by Rosie James
The time was passing all too quickly, and after a few moments Abigail disentangled herself from Luke’s arms and got to her feet. ‘I’ll have to go,’ she said reluctantly. ‘My aunt will be waiting with a hundred and one jobs for me to do. And she’ll be looking at the clock, wondering why I’m late.’
He stood and put his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him again. But Abigail moved away. ‘Goodbye, Luke,’ she said quietly. ‘I am going to miss you … so much.’
His expression was dark as he gazed down at her. ‘This is not goodbye,’ he said, his tone unusually terse. ‘Not if you don’t want it to be, Abigail.’
What had he meant by that? Abigail asked herself as she trod swiftly across the fields towards the cottage. Had he meant that however hard it might be, it was up to her to free herself from the stranglehold of life at Coopers? So that they could be together again sometimes, if only for a few hours?
That thought put a spring in Abigail’s step as she hurried home. Luke’s words filled her with determination.
Now it was up to her.
Chapter 2
Early October that same year
Standing at the sink as she washed their breakfast porridge bowls, Abigail glanced back at her aunt.
‘Aunt – why don’t you let me take the trap to market today?’ Abigail asked tentatively. ‘It’s very hot, isn’t it, and you might like to stay home for a change.’
Edna glanced at her sharply. ‘Why ever should I want to do that!’ she said. ‘You’ve never taken our stuff to market in your life and wouldn’t have a clue as to how to get the best sales! Besides, the plums are nearly falling off the branches and are just right for harvesting … it’s going to take some time to pick them and box them all up so that’s what you’ll be doing today!’
Abigail hadn’t been to the village since the day she’d left school because Edna made sure there was never the time nor the need. The couple of occasions on which Abigail had ventured that she might like to go to the village had met with the usual objections. ‘What for?’ Edna always demanded. ‘There’s nothing for you up there anymore, and there isn’t time for you to go skiving off when you’re needed here.’
So, as usual, Abigail did what she’d always done: obeyed her aunt’s wishes.
But today was going to be different Abigail assured herself as she put their dishes away, because she desperately wanted to see Luke! She couldn’t wait a day longer! It had been ten whole weeks since they’d been together, ten whole weeks for her to go over and over that first, really passionate kiss they’d had, the kiss that had said so much.
And remembering Luke’s last words to her, ‘This is not goodbye. Not if you don’t want it to be’, Abigail had made her plans.
She would leave the cottage as soon as Edna left to go to market, and then take a roundabout route to the village. Once there, it would be easy enough to avoid her aunt noticing her, and anyway, once Edna had begun shouting her wares, she wouldn’t have eyes or ears for anyone or anything else.
Even so, as Abigail watched the trap disappear around the bend, she felt her heart begin to race. She had to get to the village, see Luke and return to Coopers before her aunt came back. It should be easy enough, shouldn’t it? But Abigail wasn’t used to subterfuge and the first thing her aunt would do was to inspect what her niece had been doing, and the quantity of plums which had been piled into the huge boxes. Abigail made a face to herself. It was going to be a tight operation – but it would be worth it, just to see Luke again. And the thought that she would soon be gazing up into his black eyes, and hearing his calm, reassuring voice, gave Abigail the determination she needed.
Wearing a simple blue dress, and with her light cotton shawl around her shoulders, Abigail left the cottage and made her way swiftly along the hilly route she’d used many times before. The shawl was partly to cover her head and face in case she was recognised by anyone when she got to the village – anyone who might mention to her aunt that they’d seen her.
Within a very short time Abigail found herself among the large crowd gathered around all the stalls and, keeping her head well down, she skirted the edge of the market and almost ran towards the school. Of course, lessons would still be going on, but she knew that Luke usually went home for his lunch on Thursdays and the church clock had just struck twelve. Moving quickly now, she rounded the corner out of sight of the school and kept walking along the dusty road towards Mulberry Court knowing that soon she would see Luke making his way home, his easy stride swallowing up the comparatively short distance.
With her heart racing in anticipation, Abigail wondered whether to hide and jump out and surprise him … but no, she didn’t want to do that. All she wanted to do was to see him and feel his arms around her again. The dreams that she dreamed every night were not enough. She needed to feel him close, to feel his heart against hers.
And suddenly there he was, walking towards her, his bag slung over his shoulder as usual. He seemed to be looking up at something in the sky, but then his gaze turned towards her and he saw her. Dropping his bag, he was beside her in an instant, throwing his arms around her, almost lifting her off her feet.
‘Hey,’ he said slowly, softly, ‘how have you managed this? You haven’t killed her, have you?’
Abigail laughed shakily. ‘No – I’ve managed to escape but I haven’t got long because I’ve got to get back to Coopers before my aunt returns from the market. I just had to see you, Luke. The last couple of months have seemed endless.’
‘For me, too,’ Luke murmured. ‘I’ve walked down to Coopers twice hoping to catch you alone but your aunt was there right in the front and I didn’t want to get you into trouble.’ With his arm now tightly around Abigail’s waist as they walked along, he looked down at her, the look in his eyes almost making her melt. ‘Luckily, there’s no one at home this afternoon,’ he said, ‘but my sandwiches will have been left for me – so we can share them in private – if you’ve got long enough.’
‘I’ve got long enough,’ Abigail said.
She had never been inside the house before, and Abigail felt as if she was entering another world. As they went through the richly carpeted hall into the kitchen, she was immediately aware of the rows of bright copper pans hanging above the Aga cooker, of rows and rows of expensive crockery on the tall dresser, of the huge jug of wild flowers placed on one wide window sill, everything shining with fragrant cleanliness. On the opposite side of the room were three full-length windows looking out onto a rolling lawn that seemed to go on for ever.
‘What a beautiful garden, Luke,’ Abigail said, and he nodded.
‘Yes, there’s a lot of it, which keeps the gardener busy,’ he said. ‘And just out of sight there’s a summer house. Not that I’ve sat in it much,’ he added, ‘but my mother seems to like it.’
Abigail turned away, glancing at the scrubbed wooden table on which there was a tray covered with a white cloth, together with a crystal water jug and matching tumbler.
It seemed rude to go on staring, but Abigail couldn’t help it – while thinking what a good job it was that Luke had never been to Coopers, and never would. What ever would he make of their primitive abode, their earthy surroundings?
He pulled out two chairs for them to sit side by side. Then he removed the white cloth to reveal a plate of neatly cut sandwiches which had leaves of moist watercress tucked between the layers, a china dish of chocolate biscuits and a bowl of fruit – apples, bananas and grapes. He grinned down at her.
‘Our lunch,’ he said. ‘I think the sandwiches are ham, so get started while I fetch another tumbler and fill the jug.’ He glanced back at her as he went over to the sink. ‘The housekeeper has taken the day off to visit a cousin who’s not very well,’ he said, ‘but she’ll be back in time to make dinner for when my parents return from London.’
If she had been invited to eat at Buckingham Palace, Abigail couldn’t have felt more honoured to be having her lunch here with Luke. Everything was so s
pecial. He was so special.
For the next ten minutes between mouthfuls, they exchanged news of what they’d been doing – though Abigail didn’t have that much to reveal. But Luke kept making her laugh about things that had gone on at school: that there’d been a real fight in the playground, that the usual culprits regularly got the cane for talking in class and that Miss Jones who taught the Infants was leaving next year to get married.
But there was something more important that Abigail wanted to know.
‘And … who is sitting next to you in class now, Luke?’ she asked, and he shrugged.
‘Derek – you remember Derek – but I hardly know him because he doesn’t say anything. Not anything interesting or funny, anyway,’ Luke replied. ‘It’s not the same at school without you, Abigail … I mean, it’s just work and routine now, slightly boring to be honest.’
After a moment, Abigail said, ‘I wish I was coming back there with you, now, this afternoon, Luke,’ and he took her hand in his and looked down at her.
‘You don’t know how much I hate you not being there,’ he said quietly. ‘But at least you’ve found a way to get to the village incognito! That’s a start, isn’t it? When I saw you standing there as I turned the corner, I thought I was dreaming!’ He bent slightly to brush his lips across her cheek. ‘Do you think you’ll be able to escape again? Soon?’
‘I’ll try,’ Abigail murmured, loving the feel of his face against hers, ‘but it can only be on a Thursday when my aunt is here at the market. And I’ll always have to get back before she does.’
‘True love never did run smooth,’ Luke quoted softly. Then he moved their lunch things right away and pulled her in close to him. Then he kissed her and she kissed him back, properly …
Presently, like Cinderella hearing the midnight chime, Abigail heard the clock on the kitchen wall strike one, and she moved away, standing up quickly.
‘I’ll have to go,’ she said. ‘It’ll take me half an hour to get back and I’ve got all those baskets to fill.’
He stood as well, reluctant to let her go. ‘But – you will come here again, soon, won’t you?’ he said.
‘I will do my very best, I promise,’ Abigail said.
Chapter 3
Almost as if she knew something was going on, for the next few weeks Edna announced that she would be returning early from the market on Thursdays. ‘This is always a busy time,’ she’d said. ‘As you know very well, Abigail, all the ground has to be cleared and dug and made ready for spring planting, so I’ll cut it short in the village while there’s still enough light for us to work by.’
So apart from two brief visits to the village just before Christmas, it wasn’t until the following year that Abigail began a routine of seeing Luke for their treasured time together, when Edna stayed all afternoon at the market.
‘I know it’s difficult for you, but I wish you didn’t always have to go back so soon,’ Luke said regretfully. ‘I mean, I could always find some excuse about being late for the afternoon session at school … and I’d love a bit longer for us to be together so that we could, you know, just talk about everything, like we used to.’
He was so right, Abigail had thought. Not only that, but he always held her in the way that only Luke Jordan knew how. Caressing her possessively as if to hold the rest of the world at bay and to tell everyone that she was his, and he was hers. And that nothing would ever change it.
It was one day in early April the following year that Edna imparted the news of the moment – Lillian, the vicar’s sister, was gravely ill.
‘Dear me,’ Edna said as she and Abigail trudged down to the back field with their hoes and buckets. ‘I do hope she recovers soon because she and the vicar have lived together all their lives and it would be so hard for him to do everything without her help and support.’
Abigail nodded. She remembered the vicar’s sister who occasionally came to the school with him when he took morning prayers every Monday. ‘I always thought she looked a very kind lady,’ Abigail said.
‘Hmm,’ Edna said, ‘I’m afraid that’s a false hope – from what I’ve heard. Anyway,’ Edna went on as she started hoeing her row, ‘I shall go to the funeral, of course – which is sure to be a big affair, what with the two of them being so well known in the area.’
‘But she’s not gone yet, Aunt,’ Abigail said. ‘Her brother’s prayers might save her.’
‘Praying does not always do as you want it to,’ Edna retorted. ‘Or, rather, the word “No” is often the answer. Anyway, nothing we can do about it,’ she went on as she continued with what she was doing. ‘But at least I’ve got my black outfit ready to wear – the stuff I had to buy for your father’s funeral, if you remember.’
But of course Abigail remembered Dada’s funeral, and seeing Edna in her long black skirt and top, with a tiny little skull cap on her head … Goodness knows where she’d managed to find that, Abigail had thought at the time.
Two Thursdays later, Abigail repeated the heart-tightening operation of getting to and from the village unseen, but this time she had news for Luke.
Next Friday, the 1st of May at 4.30 p.m., Lillian’s funeral was to take place and there would be a large gathering of faithful parishioners attending, invited to take tea and cake in the church hall afterwards. Edna was going to be there and did not expect to return to Coopers until perhaps seven o’clock.
‘No one goes to a funeral by pony and trap!’ she’d said, when Abigail had posed the question.
So on that Thursday when Abigail saw Luke coming towards her, she almost threw herself into his arms with the news. ‘I can’t believe it, Luke,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I have never known my aunt to be away from Coopers for that length of time! We shall have at least two hours … two whole hours … just to be together.’
Luke put his arm around Abigail’s waist. ‘And guess what?’ he said. ‘Not only is the housekeeper also going to the funeral, but my parents are in London that evening and won’t be home until next morning!’ He held her to him tightly. ‘We shall have Mulberry Court to ourselves without interruption!’
When that special Friday in 1936 dawned, the weather was surprisingly warm for so early in May. And although the passing of the vicar’s sister had little to do with them, Edna went about her usual duties with a very solemn look on her face, barely saying a word to Abigail but every now and then repeating, ‘Dear, dear. God rest her soul.’
And despite feeling genuinely sorry about Lilian’s death, Abigail could barely stop smiling. In just a few hours, she and Luke were going to be together. And this time with no urgent rush for her to get home – though she’d have to make sure she reached Coopers well before her aunt returned from the funeral tea.
Just after three o’clock, Edna came down the stairs in her mourning attire, and Abigail glanced up in surprise. Her aunt looked quite respectable out of her working clothes. She also seemed to have taken some trouble doing her hair, and the little skull cap perched on top looked quite nice … nicer than Abigail remembered it the last time it had been worn.
‘You look very smart, Aunt,’ Abigail said, and Edna pursed her lips.
‘How I look is hardly the point of today,’ she said, but Abigail knew the remark had pleased her aunt. ‘One thing I am grateful for is that it’s not raining,’ Edna went on, ‘because it’s unpleasant walking to and from the village when it’s wet.’
Abigail would love to have retorted – ‘Don’t you think I know that?’ But she resisted the temptation. Her aunt was in a good mood, and obviously looking forward to her unusual afternoon out.
Keeping an anxious eye on the little clock on the shelf, Abigail saw that it was quarter to four. Enough time had passed since her aunt had left, and Abigail knew she could get to the village in twenty minutes. By that time all the mourners would be safely in church and out of the way. The coast would be clear.
Wearing the only pretty, flowery cotton skirt she possessed, and the pale blue top that went with it,
plus her shawl loosely around her shoulders as usual, Abigail left Coopers and walked to the village. When she arrived it was eerily quiet and practically deserted. The curtains of any dwelling she passed were drawn tightly shut, the sultry warmth of the afternoon seeming to add to the sombre atmosphere.
But Abigail wasn’t sombre – she was almost deliriously happy – and when she saw Luke waiting for her by the gate of Mulberry Court, his face wreathed in smiles, she automatically broke into a run to meet him. He ran forward, drawing her into his arms and closing his lips over hers.
‘You look lovely,’ he murmured.
She smiled up at him. Well, she had taken trouble to do her hair which was floating loose around her shoulders.
Then, with their arms around each other’s waists, they walked slowly up the drive and into the house.
Luke nodded towards a plate of fancy cakes on the kitchen table. ‘The housekeeper didn’t want me to starve before she got back,’ he said, ‘and as you can see, there are plenty for the two of us.’ He pulled out the two chairs. ‘Shall I make us a pot of tea – or would you prefer something cold? There’s a bottle of pop waiting to be opened.’
Abigail took the chair offered and gazed up at him. He was wearing light, casual trousers and an open-necked, dark brown shirt, and his hair – with its usual wayward lock falling carelessly across his forehead – glinted and shone like polished ebony.
‘I’d like a glass of pop, please, Luke,’ she said.
He grinned. ‘Yeah. Me too.’
Abigail half-smiled as she watched him. When they were together on those precious Thursdays, they always had so much to say in such a short time that their words would often tumble over each other, but now, today, they weren’t saying much at all. Just revelling in being together, with no anxiety that she would be found out.
