The Healing Hand

CHAPTER ONE 1854-1

CHAPTER ONE

1854Tania gazed dreamily out of the window of the train as it flashed past and thought just how attractive the French fields looked.

Even the hardworking men and women on their farms seemed to have a romantic atmosphere about them.

It was something she did not see in England.

She was thrilled to be travelling in one of the new fast trains running from the Gare du Nord to Boulogne.

It was the first time she had been in one and it was even more exciting than she had expected.

Tania had been at a school in Paris for the last two years.

She knew she would never forgive her stepmother for not allowing her to come home so that she could have said goodbye to her beloved father before he died.

Her stepmother, however, had been adamant, saying that she must stay at the school in Paris until her education was complete.

She fully realised it was not because Lady Amesly was interested in what she learnt.

In fact she had known from the moment her father had remarried after her mother’s death that the new Lady Amesly had found her a nuisance.

And she certainly did not wish to chaperone Tania into the Social world.

Tania recognised that life was going to be difficult. The first thing she must do when she arrived back was to pick up the threads with her friends and relatives.

‘I expect, as we are living in London, it will not be too difficult,’ she tried to reassure herself.

At the same time she could just hear her stepmother saying in the voice she always used to her stepdaughter, but never to her husband,

“You will stay away in France, Tania, until I decide when you can return.”

It became even more complicated when she had turned eighteen last May.

Her stepmother had written to the Mother Superior of the school, which was part of a French Convent, to say that Tania was to stay there as long as possible.

She was indeed prepared to spend more money on her education, but it was money her stepmother obviously begrudged her.

After Christmas the Mother Superior sent for Tania and spoke to her very kindly,

“We love having you here at the school, Tania, and you have been an exemplary pupil, but you are older than the other girls and I think you should now go back to your home. I sincerely hope you will eventually find someone you love and be married.”

Tania had not wished to leave.

But she knew in her heart that the Mother Superior was right in thinking that she was too old to stay on at the Convent School.

It was a most exclusive school that accepted only the daughters of Noblemen or Royalty, whether they were English, French or any other nationality.

It was now the beginning of February and she was being sent home despite the protests of Lady Amesly.

“I would have kept you another month, dear child,” the Mother Superior had said, “but it so happens that Sister Agnes is going to London for family reasons and this is a good opportunity for you to travel with her.”

She was well aware that the Mother Superior was always annoyed when the nuns had to be taken away from teaching to escort some girl who had to return home during the term time for whatever reason.

There had been one pupil last term that had to be escorted home as far as Egypt and the history lessons had suffered.

Sister Agnes taught English and the school would have to find a temporary tutor until she was able to return.

Sister Agnes was most upset at having to go back to England to be with a dying relative and she had come away from the school in a distraught state of mind.

Tania spent several hours on leaving Paris trying to soothe Sister Agnes.

“I know he will die before I can get home,” she was wailing.

There was nothing Tania could possibly say, except that she was sure – which she was not – that Sister Agnes would arrive home in time.

She had often wondered why religious people made such a fuss about death – if they believed that someone was swept up into a perfect Heaven, why should they weep so much for those who had passed on?

She suspected that it was they themselves who were frightened of death.

Her mother had taught her to pray when she was a child and she had always believed in some Power overhead directing her life and taking care of her.

But she had no wish to return home now after her dear father’s death.

Her stepmother disliked her, and she knew that she would not be a welcome member of the household, despite it being her childhood home.

She prayed that God would support and help her and that somehow things would work out for the best.

The train was moving at what she considered was a tremendous pace and she continued to gaze out at the view sweeping past the window.

Sister Agnes appeared to be sleeping – at any rate she was silent in the seat at the far end of the carriage.

They fortunately had the carriage to themselves as the Station Master himself had locked them in before they left Paris, promising them that they would be much safer and more comfortable alone.

They were due to reach Boulogne early tomorrow morning where there would be a ferry waiting to take them to London Bridge.

The Mother Superior had informed Lady Amesly of the time of her stepdaughter’s arrival.

Tania was hoping that a carriage would be waiting for her and that would mean she could give Sister Agnes a lift to wherever she had to go.

Suddenly she heard the brakes screech and the train rapidly slowing down.

Then there was a violent thump.

It was so violent that Tania was instantly thrown roughly onto the floor.

As Sister Agnes screamed out hysterically, the train came to a standstill with a great many bumps and lurches.

It took Tania a moment or so to realise that there had been a crash.

She picked herself up from the floor and sat back on the seat she had just been thrown off.

Sister Agnes was lying stiffly where she had fallen and was now whimpering rather than crying.

“I am afraid there has been an accident,” Tania called out somewhat unnecessarily.

There was no answer from Sister Agnes, but there was a thunderous noise of voices shouting outside.

The door of the carriage was unlocked and a man in uniform put his head in to ask in French,

“Is anyone injured?”

“I don’t think so,” Tania replied in French.

“Everyone has to get out so we can clear the line.”

“What on earth has happened? What have we hit?” demanded Tania.

But already the man had moved away to the next carriage.

Slowly, because she felt somewhat unsteady, Tania rose to her feet and pulled Sister Agnes up onto the seat.

“You are not hurt,” she insisted, seeing no blood, “and we have to climb out now.”

“I am far too ill. The shock has killed me,” sobbed Sister Agnes weakly.

Tania thought it would be useless to argue with her, so she went to the carriage door to see if there was anyone who could help.

There were several women rushing around outside screaming or in floods of tears, whilst the men were trying to pull their possessions out of the carriages.

Looking up the line Tania could see that their train had crashed into another one travelling slowly in the same direction, but fortunately it was a goods train.

Tania thought that a lot of the women were making an unnecessary fuss – they were being overly hysterical, not because they had been hurt, but simply because there had been an accident.

She could see no one at the moment she could possibly ask to help Sister Agnes.

And she could hardly jump out of the carriage and leave her alone.

Suddenly she could see walking down the line towards her a tall good-looking young man whom she felt instinctively must be English.

As he reached Tania’s carriage, he started to say in French,

“Are you all right? Is there anything I can do?”

“Oh, please help me,” Tania implored him. “There is a woman here, a nun, who thinks she is injured, although I suspect she is just upset at being thrown onto the floor.”

The Englishman – she had been right in thinking he was English – smiled at her.

“You don’t seem to have been damaged.”

“It certainly was a shock,” Tania answered, “and I can see now that we have run into the back of another train in front of us!”

“Sheer carelessness on the part of those running the line,” he responded. “But mercifully our driver saw it far enough ahead to be able to apply his brakes in time to avert a disaster. They say that once the line is clear there will be another train to take us on to Boulogne.”

“Well, that’s a blessing anyway, but what shall I do about Sister Agnes?”

“I imagine she is your chaperone and should be looking after you,” the Englishman commented, but he was smiling as he spoke.

It was clearly a statement and not a rebuke.

He climbed into the carriage and persuaded Sister Agnes to lie full-length on the seat.

“I don’t think she is injured,” he said in a low voice to Tania.

“I am sure she is not. We both fell forward at the same time and, although a shock, it has not hurt me at all.”

She looked anxiously at Sister Agnes whose eyes and lips were tightly shut.

“I will see if I can find something for her to drink,” offered the Englishman.

“That’s a good idea. I am sure that what she would really like is a cup of tea.”

The Englishman laughed.

“That is very English, but as we are now in France, I think it will have to be something more stimulating.”

“You must not give her alcohol. She is a nun and they are not allowed to drink.”

“Then I am afraid it will have to be water. There is a restaurant car at the front of the train.”

Tania had been told this before she left Paris, but it meant they would have to get out and leave their luggage unattended in their compartment.

The Englishman had already clambered out of the carriage and he now held up his hand, obviously intending Tania to accompany him.

She thought it would be rude if she did not do so. The nun, although she seemed almost unconscious, would guard their luggage.

She therefore jumped down.

As the Englishman took hold of her hand, he pulled her through the crowd and they walked up to the front of the train.

Next to the engine, as the Englishman had told her, was the restaurant car.

Tania could see that mercifully the crash had been much less severe than it might have been.

But when they looked in through the windows and the door they saw that the impact had smashed the tables in the restaurant car and everything was broken.

There were pieces of china and broken milk bottles everywhere and it looked as though a huge pot of coffee had fallen near the entrance.

“We cannot go in there,” exclaimed Tania.

“I could try,” the Englishman suggested doubtfully. “But I think it would annoy the engineers, who have just arrived to move the trains off the lines.”

“Is there no hope of our being able to travel on our train?” Tania asked him.

“I think it most unlikely and it may take a long time to clear the lines, in which case I should imagine they will send another train for those who are going to Boulogne.”

“Do you think we will have to stay the night here?”

“It looks rather like it, but I am certainly hoping we will not. My carriage is full, so there will be no question of being able to lie down to sleep.”

“It may not be as bad as we expect. Try to find out from someone how they are coping with the collision.”

The Englishman looked round.

She felt he had a strong personality like her father, who always got what he wanted and people obeyed him.

A moment later she realised what the Englishman was looking out for.

A small engine, drawing one small car, came down the line and stopped behind the goods train.