The Windfell Family Secrets

by Diane Allen

  23

  Charlotte leaned over the lichen-covered packhorse bridge and looked down at the swirling brown waters of the River Ribble. In the distance she could hear the noise of the gushing Stainforth Foss. She watched as a dipper dived into the swirling waters, only to reappear a few yards further downstream, gleaming as if bedecked by the most precious jewels, and with some aquatic grubs in its mouth. The sun shone and played on the reflection of the water, and Charlotte smiled as she noticed the cream-and-brown speckled froth that the force of water had created around nearby tree roots. It swirled round and round, unable to escape the capture of the roots and the current of flowing water. ‘Ale water’, her father would have called it. Charlotte heard his voice as clearly as if he stood next to her, and remembered his loving smile. She missed him so much.

  It was the first day in March, St David’s Day, and the sun was trying its best to prepare for spring, by sneaking a little warmth from behind the clouds. And the river bank foretold the coming of spring, as the dainty wood sorrel and dog’s mercury were starting to show. Another week or two and there would be wood anemones, primroses and the pungent smell of wild garlic, which the locals would gather to cook with, making a delicious soup, when added to potatoes.

  Charlotte sighed. She’d tossed and turned all night and had taken this walk to clear her head of worries. The wedding was getting nearer and nearer, but her main concern was the decision she had taken, after her visit to Skipton. It was going to affect all aspects of her family’s life. After returning on the train with Bert, she had decided to go back to Skipton on her own and, as Bert had suggested, look around the newly built retail property. It was, as he said, not carved in stone that she must remain a mill owner. The more she had thought about it, the more running a haberdashery and milliner’s shop appealed to her. In fact, when she had looked around the space, she had realized that the shop could sell all manner of things. Plus, she could employ some of the young mill girls who had lost their jobs and offer them positions as shop girls. Unfortunately, she had not yet plucked up courage to tell Archie her new plans, and she was now feeling guilty. She knew straight away what he’d say: that she was mad in the head, as Skipton was more than ten miles away; and even more than that for Harriet, once she had settled into Crummock.

  However, Charlotte did not regret signing for the deposit on the shop without Archie’s or the rest of the family’s knowledge. She’d decided to keep it to herself, just until the wedding was over; she didn’t want to spoil the run-up to the happiest day of Danny and Harriet’s life, by perhaps making Archie cross with her, for going back into business without his knowledge. Her news would keep. The lease on the shop at Settle ran for quite a few months yet, so at least Isabelle and Harriet were secure.

  With this all settled in her mind, she opened the wooden gate and stepped onto the foot-worn grassy path that led the length of the river; if she followed it, she could walk back to her home along the river bank. She picked up her skirts and walked down by the side of the flooded river, stopping at the Foss as she gazed into the swirling whirlpool that frothed and bubbled at the foot of the falls. In summer it was a favourite place for couples to stroll and enjoy the scenery, and in the coming months salmon would be seen leaping up the falls, in an urgent attempt to return to the place of their birth further upriver, to spawn; and their skins would shine like rainbows as they fervently made attempt after attempt to jump the falls.

  Today, the Foss was dark and forbidding, and Charlotte did not lurk for long on the slippery limestone rocks that overhung the falls. Making her way down the river bank, she climbed the stile that led into the parkland of Windfell and the path that, if it was followed, went to Ferndale Mill. She stopped as she drew level with the railway line that ploughed through the bottom of her park, and wondered whether to walk further and see the progress being made in rebuilding Ferndale, which the Christies were rumoured to have started. She thought better of it, as the weather had turned into a fine drizzle, so she pulled her shawl around her and headed out of the river bottom, up the hillside that led back to Windfell. She stopped once on top of the hill and looked down amongst the trees, hearing the sound of pickaxes at work, confirming that the Christies had indeed started work on Ferndale. She watched as a plume of smoke rose from further down the dale, signifying an approaching steam train and its coaches, with the steady shunt of the engine building up, louder and louder, as it climbed to the next station at Horton-in-Ribblesdale. Charlotte looked on as the train and carriages passed her, filled with passengers going who knew where. Perhaps she was like those passengers: following a track that she knew not where it ended. But if it was up to her, it would end in success; and she would not regret selling Ferndale, if her plans for her new venture came to fruition.

  ‘Have you had a good walk, ma’am?’ Lily took her mistress’s shawl and gloves.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Lily. Although it’s a little nippy out there and it is just starting to drizzle.’

  ‘I think Ruby’s been waiting for your return. She’s eager for you to see the wedding-breakfast menu. She says she’s to order quite a bit of it in and doesn’t want to disappoint, if she can’t get anything from either the butcher or the fruitier, ma’am.’ Ruby waited, with her hands full of Charlotte’s shawl and gloves.

  ‘I suppose I will have to look at it – she’s quite right. To be honest, I’ve been putting it off until everyone responded to the invitations, which they now have. I think we will be looking at around eighty-five for lunch. I hope Cook and the kitchen staff will be able to cope.’ Charlotte sat down in her chair and warmed her hands in front of the fire. ‘Ask Ruby to bring me her menus and we will work through them. Could you ask her to bring me a cup of tea as well, Lily, please. I need to warm up.’

  Charlotte leaned back. She was beginning to regret being fully in charge of the upcoming wedding. She couldn’t help but think that Betty Armstrong was getting off lightly with her daughter’s marriage. But it had been all her own doing; she had, after all, set out her plans, without giving the Armstrongs a chance to add their four penn’orth. A decision that she was now regretting, with her new business plans looming.

  ‘Ma’am, Lily said it was a good time to sit down with you now.’ A flustered Ruby pushed the tea-tray onto the small side table next to Charlotte and waited with her notepad in hand. ‘I wouldn’t have been so forward, but it’s only a good three weeks away. I’ve almonded the wedding cake and it is in hand, but all the rest is a bit undecided, as you’ve been out of the house a lot lately and I haven’t had time to catch you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ruby. Sorting out the sale of Ferndale has led me not to concentrate on this wedding, and I must admit time is taking me by surprise. I don’t know where the months since Christmas have gone. Thank goodness Isabelle and Harriet have sorted their dresses, and that the menfolk have already got suitable attire. So that just leaves the wedding breakfast to be sorted, and I’m sure you will have that in hand, if I know you.’ Charlotte poured the milk in her tea and smiled at a frustrated-looking Ruby. ‘Are you not joining me with a cup of tea?’

  ‘Oh no, ma’am, it wouldn’t be right.’ Ruby sat patiently as her mistress took a long sip.

  ‘Right, you tell me what you’ve planned for our eighty-five guests.’ Charlotte sat back and waited.

  ‘Eighty-five, ma’am – that’s going to stretch us all. Can Thomson hire some serving staff from the Craven Heifer at Stainforth, perhaps? Because otherwise I don’t know how we will cope. Getting the food to everyone warm is going to be an art in itself.’ Ruby looked horrified at the number of bodies she was going to have to feed; she only wished she’d been told beforehand, before she had put the menu together.

  ‘Yes, tell Thomson to get whoever he needs, and to let me know how many extra staff I need to pay for the day. Tell him to vet those he gets. I don’t want any empty-headed young girls who are worth nothing.’ Charlotte could really have done without employing more staff.

  ‘Yes,
ma’am. He’ll be careful, and we will make sure the day goes well, with no upsets. Now I know we are in Lent at the moment, so we have been eating very little meat, but with the wedding being on Easter Saturday, I hope I’ve put together a set menu that you agree with. All the produce is in plentiful supply, which is a good job, now that I know I’ve got to cook for eighty-five. I thought I’d make Apple Charlotte – after yourself, ma’am, and of course the old Queen Charlotte.’ Ruby passed over her menu and watched as Charlotte cast her eyes across it:

  Ox-Tail Soup, or Grilled Fresh Herrings with Mustard Sauce

  *

  Crépinettes of Chicken

  *

  Roast Loin of Mutton

  *

  Brussels Sprouts Dressed in Butter

  *

  Boiled Potatoes

  *

  Apple Charlotte Pudding with Custard

  *

  Cheese

  ‘I couldn’t have done better myself, Ruby. Mr Atkinson can supply you with the mutton, I’m sure, and the vegetable garden is still full of sprouts. I noticed them this morning as I passed it on my walk. You are to be applauded for your use of seasonal produce and for keeping to a sensible budget, no matter how many guests we have attending. It may not be as fancy as my wedding breakfast, when I first got married to Joseph Dawson, but it is filling and satisfying. We will decorate the tables with fruit and flowers, and it will be a wedding that they will remember.’ Charlotte smiled at Ruby. She was good with the kitchen purse strings, and she should have had more faith in the prudent cook.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am. We will decorate the dining hall and make it a day to remember, as you say. Young Master Danny is a lucky man to be marrying Miss Harriet – she will make him a good wife.’

  ‘Yes, I should be thankful. I’ve got a loving family and, as you say, Harriet will fit into the family well. How’s things downstairs, Ruby? I hear we have another blossoming romance, between Jethro and Mazy. I couldn’t quite believe it, when Mr Atkinson told me.’ Charlotte smiled.

  ‘Yes, we are all happy for them. They tried to keep it a secret for a while, but I think they gave that up as a bad job, especially when young Eve found them kissing in the coal shed. It’s good to think they have one another. At one time I thought Jethro would always live with his horses, but he’s even taken to having a bath twice a week. Eve takes buckets of hot water across to the stable, for him to wash in the tin bath. I’ve never known him do that before.’ Ruby laughed.

  ‘I’m glad he’s taken to washing more frequently. As you say, he was beginning to love his horses a bit too much, and smell like them as well.’ Charlotte smiled; she had a soft spot for Jethro, for he had always said things as they were, and had always supported her since her arrival at Windfell.

  ‘Mazy will sort him out. He’ll be turned into a gentleman before you know it.’ Ruby stood up from her seat and looked across at Charlotte. ‘Are you alright, ma’am? You look a little pale, if you don’t mind me saying.’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you, Ruby. Just a little tired, and wondering where all the years have gone. What with our Danny getting married, and Isabelle being infatuated with her charming Mr James, I’m beginning to realize that I’m not as young as I feel. That I’ve got to make my mark on the world before it’s too late.’

  ‘It’s losing Ferndale – that’s taken the wind out of your sails, ma’am. But knowing you, you’ll bounce back with something bigger and better. And a wedding in the family will make everyone feel better. It’s been a hard winter, but a lot of folks have had it harder than us at Windfell. We should count our blessings, ma’am, that’s what I always say.’ Ruby looked down at her list and thought of the families that had no bread on the table, and there she was, planning an extravagant five-course meal.

  ‘You are right, Ruby. I will give myself a good talking to. Stop myself floundering in the doldrums, which I seem to be in at the moment. I took a walk down by the river this morning, and I think I heard the sound of picks and shovels being used on Ferndale, so I presume work has begun to repair it. I can’t bear to go and actually look at the place, for it holds so many memories for me.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Lily walked up that way from her home at Stackhouse, and she said it was thronged with workmen. So it won’t be long before the mill is back up and running, thank the Lord. It hit everyone badly. You’ll know that some families have actually left the district – they’ve had to, as without work they’d starve.’ Ruby shook her head.

  ‘Yes, it was a tragedy, not just for me, but for everyone. Three families have moved out of the lock cottages, leaving them empty. I’ll be glad myself when the mill is rebuilt and working, as at least I’ll be able to get tenants for my cottages.’ Charlotte picked up her embroidery from her sewing box next to her and looked at it, uninterested.

  ‘If that’s all, ma’am, I’ll go and prepare dinner for tonight.’ Ruby curtsied and wished herself a penny behind her mistress in savings, as she left Charlotte looking at the embroidery that she had struggled with for the last countless months.

  ‘Ruby says there’s three cottages at the locks empty. They are bonny little cottages with a good lump of garden. I’ve always fancied living there, but they’ve always gone to mill workers in the past.’ Mazy lay back in Jethro’s arms and tested the waters with her idea. Although she had only been walking out with him for three months, Mazy knew that she had found the man she wanted to live with all her life; and she had imagined doing so, since knowing there were empty cottages just waiting to make them both a perfect life there. Happy and content in one another’s company.

  ‘Aye, it’s a sad do. But you can’t expect folk to stop, if there’s no work. Have you really fancied living down there, even after Walter Gibson hanged himself and Betsy Foster was murdered down there? I don’t know if I’d fancy them. And you’ve Mrs Batty living down there – she’d never be away.’ Jethro yawned and placed his hands behind his head as he looked up at the rafters of his home above the stables, spotting a bit of daylight from where the rain had been dripping regularly.

  Mazy turned and leaned on her elbow and looked at Jethro. She ran her finger over his striped collarless shirt and then kissed him sweetly on the lips, as his iron bedstead creaked with the weight of two people on it. ‘It would be alright if I’d somebody to live with down there. It would make the perfect first home, and Mrs Atkinson wouldn’t charge a lot.’

  ‘Get her asked then. Eve might share with you, then the rent wouldn’t be as much.’ Jethro concentrated on the hole in the roof, only half-listening to the suggestion that had been put in front of him.

  Mazy sat up on the bed edge. ‘I wasn’t thinking of sharing with Eve,’ she snapped.

  ‘Then who were you thinking of sharing with, and what’s up with you?’ Jethro realized suddenly that his momentary lack of interest had caused Mazy to become upset.

  ‘I thought we could live there, me and you. It would be better than this frozen room over the stable.’ She reached for her shawl.

  ‘What: live over the brush? I could never do that, Mazy. I was brought up right.’ Jethro was disgusted at her suggestion; they might be lying in one another’s arms in his bunk, but that was different from living together out of wedlock.

  ‘I’m going to have to spell it out, aren’t I? I thought we could get married – you and me – and rent one of the cottages from the mistress.’ Mazy held her breath. It should have been Jethro who asked her. And if he said no, she wouldn’t know what to do.

  ‘You and me get married? You mean you want to marry me?’ Jethro beamed.

  ‘Well, I thought that was what we were leading up to. And I don’t really want to share our sleeping arrangements with Sheba, even though she is a thoroughbred.’ Mazy looked at the dumbstruck groom.

  ‘Bloody hell, lass. Yes, let’s do it! Let’s get married and, aye, let’s get one of those lock cottages. It’ll be better than having rain peeing down on me.’ Jethro looked up at the roof again and grinned.

/>   ‘You are so romantic, Jethro Haygarth. I don’t know what I see in you.’ Mazy shook her head in dismay.

  ‘I’ll show you what you see in me, Mazy Banks.’ Jethro grinned and pulled her down to him, making the bedstead creak even more. ‘We can do this every night and every day, if we’ve a mind, when we are wed.’ He rolled on top of her as she screamed. ‘Of course I’ll bloody marry you.’

  24

  ‘Where does time go, Arthur? It doesn’t seem five minutes since it were me moving in there.’ Archie stood by the side of the cart that was loaded with the belongings of Arthur and Mary, and patted the patient nag waiting to be driven off.

  ‘Aye, we’ve had some fair times at Crummock, but it’s being left in good hands, with your lad Danny and his wife-to-be. They’ll farm it well.’ Arthur looked around the farmstead that had been his home for more than twenty years and had given him some of his best years, along with his wife Mary.

  ‘Well, I want to wish you and Mary all the best for the future, and I hope you will both be happy over at the Gap. I know you’ll look after it well, just like you looked after Crummock well. Both Charlotte and I owe you a lot.’ Archie shook Arthur’s hand as he climbed up on the cart next to Mary.

  ‘And I owe you a lot. You’re a good man, Mr Atkinson. If your lad turns out to be as big a gentleman as you, he’ll not go far wrong.’ Arthur tipped his cap at Danny, who stood in the doorway of Crummock, watching the couple departing. ‘Tell him to get himself down to Settle market place next week and hire the usual two Irishmen for lambing, because he’ll need them. But I don’t need to tell you that. It’ll be strange, just having my own spot to worry about, but my old lass here can’t wait to have a place to call her own.’ He turned and smiled at Mary.

  ‘Aye, get yourself gone, before dusk is upon us. Get your fires and lamps lit, ready for the night.’ Archie looked up at Arthur, before hitting his nag on its flanks, stirring the horse into motion. He watched as the cart and its occupants made its way down the farm path and around the wood end, until it was out of sight.