Becky awoke with the dawn. Her head still ached, but Dr Gale’s pills had given her a good night’s refreshing sleep. A scratch on the door and she turned her head. ‘Who is it?’
No answer but the door opened and Joseph slipped in. He closed the door very quietly and came to the bedside. ‘My love. My lovely Becky. How much better you look now – how do you feel?’ His hands found hers and helped her sit up. He pulled the pillow behind her head to make her more comfortable and sat on the bed beside her. Gently he kissed her aching temple, her eyes, her cheeks, and then, lingeringly, her mouth. ‘I couldn’t go without making sure you were better.’
‘Go?’ Her voice was very quiet but he understood the emotion hidden within the one word and smiled reassuringly.
‘Back to Hexworthy. I have to work, you know that. And then there is something that I shall be doing, very soon – and then—’
She gripped his hand. ‘But why must you go? You need to get over that awful fight. Your leg – I saw what happened. And those falls – your back must be hurt?’
His smile faded. ‘I shall get over it. And you must understand that I have to go back to work.’ His eyes, grey and wide, looked into hers almost pleadingly. ‘Trust me, Becky. Trust me.’
The pain in her temple grew stronger. She leaned back on the pillow feeling weak and suddenly low spirited. He had won the match, won the purse, but still he had to leave her. And while she was feeling so sorry for herself – suddenly she was full of black thoughts. Was it so much more important that he kept his job at Hexworthy than stay here and wait until she was well again? Was that the love that he had sworn he felt for her?
‘I don’t understand,’ she whispered, turning her face from him – he mustn’t see the easy tears. ‘Why must you go back to work? You said it was only repairing walls – surely they can wait for a day or two.’
‘No.’ He let go her hands, sat up straighter and looked at her with a different expression. Looking at him again she saw resolution, determination, strength – and knew she had to accept his decision. Something in Hexworthy that he had to do and by now she knew him so well that she realized nothing would change his mind. Even leaving her here, in bed, unable to get back to her life wouldn’t stop him. He must go and once again, she was left, waiting.
‘I want you to stay, but of course you won’t. So go and let me sleep.’ She heard self pity in her voice and was angry with herself. But the pain and the disappointment was too great. ‘Goodbye,’ she said unevenly and burrowed into the pillow.
‘Becky, Becky, I’ll be back soon. I promise. Very soon.’ His voice was deep and full of a longing that touched her heart. It was only when she felt him rise from the bed that she opened her eyes and looked towards the door. He stood there, and she knew suddenly that there was something he longed to tell her, but couldn’t. Not yet. And so she was able to give him a last, watery smile as she murmured, ‘Goodbye, my love. Come back soon.’
Joseph rode back to Hexworthy. At Widecombe horse sales Rupert Fielding had bought a quiet little mare for Becky, and she was in the stable, waiting for her new mistress to recover and then ride out. Joseph, having had Rupert Fielding’s permission, saddled her quietly, without waiting for Tom to come down from the tallat, and then led her out of the yard.
‘Off you go, my beauty. Let’s see how you run.’ Clearly, she was delighted to be in the fresh morning air and he settled into a comfortable pace as they turned into the road and headed for Hexworthy. During the ride he thought back to the conversation he and Rupert had had after the evening meal last night.
Rupert had surprised him by apologizing for his unfriendly treatment when first he came to the Manor. ‘I thought you were just a fly-by-night making free with my daughter,’ he said wryly, lighting a cigar and telling Joseph to sit down. ‘Now I know I was wrong and you and Becky are truly fond of one another. I can see that you’re strong and trustworthy, and I have a job to offer you once this Hexworthy work is finished.’
Joseph, trying not to show the pain his back was inflicting on him, nodded. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said shortly. ‘And what is the job?’ Those damned library shelves, perhaps, after all, he thought, disappointed but amused.
Fielding’s words surprised him. ‘Now Briggs has gone I need a new estate bailiff and I think you could do the job. You know the moor. From all I hear about you I know you’re a good craftsman, you understand the sort of work that’s needed, and I reckon you would be popular with my tenants. ‘
They regarded one another in silence, while Joseph tried to sort out the many thoughts abruptly filling his mind. Rupert drank his whisky, then said, ‘No need to decide at once. Think about it and let me know. And remember, there’s Briggs’s cottage and bit of land to go with the job.’ Leaning back looking through the cigar smoke, he smiled. ‘And, perhaps, if Becky and you eventually marry, this would be useful. A ready-made home.’
Like a bell, the word chimed with Joseph’s heartfelt ambition.
Home.
Suddenly the pain in his back edged away and he smiled as he said, ‘It’s good of you, sir, and I’ll think about all you’ve said.’ He certainly would. ‘But for the moment I have to get back to Hexworthy. Something’s waiting there for me, you see, something that’s the most important thing I’ve ever wanted, ever done.’
Rupert watched the grey eyes light up and reluctantly felt his admiration for Becky’s sweetheart to grow. Would he, in time, make a good husband for Becky? Not quite the alliance he was hoping for, but even so. He nodded. ‘Very well. And if you feel you’ve got to get back there you can try out the new mare I bought for Becky.’ He grinned. ‘Better for your back than that long walk.’
Joseph stood up, stretching his aching muscles and returned the smile. ‘Thank you, Mr Fielding. I’ll do that. I shall be off early tomorrow, so I’ll say goodnight now. And thank you again.’
Rupert stood up and offered his hand. ‘Come back soon, Freeman. She’ll be waiting. And I shall want to know if you’ve decided to accept the offer I’ve made.’
A last look between them, and then Joseph left the room. Rupert sat down, returned to his whisky and cigar and thought how pleasant it would be to have Becky living so close to the Manor if Freeman accepted the job – and of course he would. Why not? He’d be a fool not to. Becky, living nearby; she could carry on doing his accounts, and be his hostess when he had social occasions. Now, Felicity’s absence drifted into forgetfulness, for Becky would be here.
Closing his eyes, he smiled.
Farmer Narracott saw Joseph arrive, put the mare into the stable with a feed of oats, and then walk across the yard.
‘You’m late,’ he grunted.
Contritely, Joseph nodded. ‘I’m sorry. Things I had to do after the match. I came as soon as I could.’
The old man’s face creased into wrinkles. ‘You did well there, boy. Don’t worry ’bout it. The grin faded. ‘And Dan’l tells me that you’ve got an idea ’bout doing what old Satterley did all those years ago, building a stone house fer himself in a day.’
Joseph took in a long breath. The old man sounded sympathetic, but could he be sure?
‘I am. I’ve got friends who say they’ll help.’ He stared into the faded brown eyes. ‘And of course I need your sayso to take the time off.’
Bill Narracott leaned on his stick and grunted again. ‘An’ where you gonna build this house, then? Not on my land, boy.’
Joseph’s mouth twisted. He was half there, but this could be the vital part of the agreement. ‘Mr Fielding’s got a piece of rough land between here and his house. It’s on level ground, near a stream. Piles of moorstone handy and ideal for a small holding which is what I plan. He’s offered me a job so I’m hoping he won’t mind me putting my roots down on his estate.’
During the ride from the Manor, it had touched his mind that Mr Fielding’s permission should have been requested before he put his plan into action. But yesterday, and Becky’s pain and his own soaring ambition had pushe
d everything else into forgetfulness.
‘Oh ah. Well, you’d better get on wi’ it, then. Old Satterly had until dusk to build for his freehold an’ you’ll be the same, I reckon.’ Farmer Narracott nodded and gave what Joseph guessed was the nearest to a good smile that he was likely to get. ‘An’ I won’t dock you of money that you’re not earning. A house, eh? Got a wife, then?’
Joseph felt his own smile burgeon. ‘I soon will have.’ Becky flew into his mind, Becky riding the new mare, trotting over the moorland, coming to see their home. Becky with him, never again to part. It must be built today.
‘Thanks, Mr Narracott,’ he said, and strode away to find Dan’l and the other men who had offered their help. Get on with it. Get it finished, with smoke drifting up from the chimney, that means the freehold is mine, and then back to Becky, to tell her. To bring her here – home.
They gathered on the piece of land he’d selected, the three mates from work at Hound Tor and a couple of men living in Hexworthy who had enjoyed the match and offered their help, together with Dan’l Hunt, there with the agreement of farmer Narracott.
‘You gotta good spot ’ere, Joe’, said Dan’l, looking around him with expert eyes, when they arrived by horse and cart laden with tools and crib. ‘Stream near enough to get water easy, those trees up there to keep off the wind and all this moorstone nearby. Let’s get on with it quick, I reckon.’
Jackets were taken off and bags of crib tossed down in the shade of a red berried rowan tree. The seven men looked at each other. ‘So where do us start?’ asked Davy, and Joseph felt his mind suddenly clear. He could already see it, the finished cottage.
‘Get the stones together first. Then we’ll build the walls.’ Already he and Ed were handling the granite, hauling up the big rocks and starting the first line of stones.
They worked steadily with only a brief stop at midday for drink and food. The work was hard, dangerous even, with the humping of the massive rocks causing bruises and cuts. But they laughed and talked as they carted more stones and, as the afternoon passed, collected great armfuls of bracken for thatching the roof. The sun sank too fast for Joseph’s peace of mind, but, wiping sweat from his brow, he looked at the building which had grown almost magically since the morning, and knew his cottage would be finished in time.
The walls were only five feet high, but they reached the sloping roof and met the thatch, keeping out the rain which had started to fall early in the afternoon. Inside he built a fireplace and joined with Davy and Dan’l to add a chimney to the inside wall.
It was quite dark, and very wet, with the trees on the top of the hill behind them soughing in a rising wind when Joseph said hoarsely, ‘That’s it, then. It’s done. Just got to light the fire.’
Dan’l produced his tinderbox and kneeled by the hearth, coaxing the slight flame to catch the twigs laid on the granite slab that formed the base of the fireplace. They were damp, but at last the flame leaped and, crackling, the fire began to burn. Joseph, watching, felt emotion suddenly thrust through him. He touched Dan’l on the shoulder. ‘Well done. Come outside and let’s see the smoke.’
They all stood out in the rain, wiping their faces and staring up at the chimney from which smoke began slowly appearing. Dan’l turned to Joseph and grinned. ‘There’s your home, then, boy. So come back now and have a bite with me an’ Mary.’
Joseph felt torn in half. He had planned to immediately ride back to High Cross Manor to tell Mr Fielding about the cottage, ask about the freehold, and then say yes, he accepted the job offered, but suddenly his body was sending other messages. The painful strains of yesterday’s fight had been made worse by today’s work of lifting, heaving stones and building the cottage walls. His injured leg was swollen and ached with each step he took. But he needed to go back to Becky…. He thought as hard as his churning mind would allow him, and then grudgingly accepted that rest was making such strong demands that he could only accept Dan’l’s offer of a meal, and then get himself back to the tallat and sleep.
He thanked Dan’l and then turned to his other friends, gathering up their belongings before returning home. ‘Can’t thank you enough for your help. Next time I’m in the inn I’ll put in pints for you all.’ After hearty words of thanks and handshakes, they parted and went their separate ways.
Joseph’s thoughts as Dan’l’s carthorse plodded homewards through the dusky evening were happy and celebratory ones that came and went through his weary mind. With the cottage half built now he and Becky could be together. And it was only as Dan’l turned into the yard at Hexworthy that Joseph began to feel anxious about how Rupert Fielding would respond to his grabbing a piece of the estate land without permission. But after a wash, a hot meal and then the thankful fall into his bed in the tallat, everything faded. His last thought was that tomorrow was a new day.
In the morning the pain and muddled thinking had lessened. The dawn was bright and cold and he was up early, finding farmer Narracott and telling him that he must leave today but was grateful for having had the chance to learn about working with stones. The old man grunted, but nodded his head. ‘On your way, then boy, an’ good luck with what you do next. You’re a good worker an deserve some’at better’n stone walling.’ He watched as Joseph took the mare from the stable, tacked her up and then rode out of the yard, giving a final wave as he did so.
At High Cross Manor he knocked on the kitchen door and was taken into the warmth by a kindly Mrs Mudge, who took his damp coat off him and poured boiling water onto the half empty teapot.
‘So how’s Becky? Is she here?’ He couldn’t wait to see her.
Nellie Mudge returned to her seat by the fire. ‘Gone to the farm for a couple of hours, she said. Better, yes, no more headache, but she wanted to be with her family.’ She looked at Joseph and saw his disappointment. ‘Don’t you go chasing off after her now. The maister said as when you come back, he wants to see you – at once. So tidy yerself a bit and then you’ll find him upstairs. In his study, I guess.’ She grinned. ‘Up earlier these days – a lot to do, so he ses.’
Joseph drank the tea, focusing his thoughts. Now he had to explain to Mr Fielding just what he had done yesterday. And then he began to wonder if in so doing he had foregone his opportunity of taking the job offered – would the maister still want him as estate bailiff? He was frowning as he went upstairs and knocked at the study door.
CHAPTER 23
Rupert Fielding heard his knock and met him, halfway across the room. ‘I hope you’ve come to tell me you’re taking the job I offered? The estate needs to have a new bailiff very soon. Here, sit down.’
Joseph eased himself into the chair indicated, thoughts busily gathering themselves into what he hoped would be a polite and tactful way of revealing what he had done. It struck him forcibly that if Fielding were to make trouble about setting up on his land, very probably the job offer would be withdrawn. But he wanted the job. Estate bailiff? Yes, he could do it well and efficiently. And it would be worth doing, work that would use all his experience of living and working on the moor. It would complete his life’s journey. But the cottage freehold….
‘Well?’ Rupert’s voice was impatient and Joseph took a long breath before plunging into the problem.
‘You know about old man Satterly, years ago, building a stone cottage in a day with help from his friends?’
‘Of course. It’s part of Dartmoor folklore.’
‘Well, sir, I’ve done the same.’ A pause. ‘And on your land, without your sayso.’
They stared at each other in silence. Until Rupert said slowly, ‘Satterly did it to claim the freehold – was that your idea, too?’
Joseph nodded. ‘Yes. We got the roof on and smoke coming out of the chimney in a day. Even though the building is only half finished, that means the cottage is mine.’
‘On my land?’ Rupert’s voice was grim, his stare cold.
‘Yes, sir. And I ask you to let it stay and be a home for me and Becky.’
&nbs
p; Rupert stood up and walked to the window. He stood there for a moment before looking back. Joseph saw the stiffness of the tall figure and prepared himself for a hard answer. What could he do if Fielding refused to give him the piece of land?
For a long moment Rupert said nothing, then suddenly he turned and the expression on his face was unexpected. Not quite a smile, but a hint of approval which sent Joseph’s grim thoughts flying.
‘Of course, you know that I should demand that you take it down, stone by stone, just as you’ve built it.’ There was a note of wry amusement in the words. ‘But I know you’ve done this for Becky, so of course I can’t complain. All right then, Freeman, you can have your cottage and we’ll come to terms about the piece of land surrounding it. And you still haven’t told me whether you want the job I offered.’
Joseph’s smile said it all. ‘I take it, and thank you. I’ll do my best for you, Mr Fielding. And as for the land – well – all I can say is thank you.’
They looked at each other and then Rupert held out his hand, saying quietly, almost as if to himself, ‘And of course the other gift I make you, Freeman, is my daughter’s hand in marriage – if that’s what you’re going to ask next.’
Taking the proffered hand and shaking it, Joseph could only say huskily, ‘I was. And, now, with your approval, I shall ask her.’
Rupert walked carefully to his chair and eased himself into it. He arranged papers on the table, frowned at them and then looked up, smiling. ‘Well, Freeman, your duties as my estate bailiff start tomorrow morning, early. Here in my study. I badly need your help. We’ll discuss payment and I’ll give you some orders. But for the moment I think there’s something far more important you have to do.’
Drifting Shadows Page 22
