When she came to, she was lying on the couch with Jessie bent over her, wafting a bottle of smelling salts under her nose. The minister’s wife was jiggling Heather, now wide awake, on her hip. Kathleen spluttered and pushed the bottle away. She sat up. ‘What happened?’ she asked.
Jessie stroked her forehead with a damp cloth. ‘You passed out – you panicked, Kathleen. Who did you think it might be?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she said slowly, ‘but I’m sorry if I alarmed you.’
Sam, who had arrived home while Kathleen was lying in the hall, and had carried her into the living room, had been dispatched to make tea, the universal panacea. He came into the room now with a tray, which he placed on a low table.
‘Let me help you sit up, Kathleen,’ he said, sounding concerned. He moved her carefully and put a cushion behind her back. ‘There. Now would you like me to hold the cup to your lips so you can sip the tea when you’re ready?’
Still a bit disorientated, she said, ‘Oh, I do like Typhoo . . .’ He laughed and she told him, ‘You have such good teeth.’
‘All the better to smile at you with! But I hope I don’t look like a big bad wolf.’
‘Oh I do like you, Sam . . .’
Jessie and the minister’s wife – who told them cheerfully to call her Min for short – sat down and sipped their tea, too. Heather lay on the rug and amused them with her gymnastics. Bob the dog watched her with his head on his front paws, for he had taken on the role of looking after her when he sensed it was necessary.
Sam held the cup steady as he said he would, and Kathleen drank her tea in little gulps. She was feeling stronger by the minute. ‘You were out in the field in the blazing sun for eight hours, running backwards and forwards to see to Heather. It’s no wonder you fainted,’ Sam said. Turning to Jessie, he asked, ‘Could she have the day off tomorrow? That would help.’
‘Of course she can,’ Jessie agreed.
Min said in her ear, ‘What a thoughtful son you have, Jessie.’
‘They are both good boys, and now it seems I have an adopted daughter and granddaughter, after losing a precious daughter four years ago.’
Danny came in accompanied by Doc Wiseman. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked anxiously when he saw Kathleen.
‘Nothing at all,’ Kathleen answered. ‘But as Doc will have told you, I’m sure, I have had a great surprise – meeting the lady who helped me along the Pilgrims’ Way.’
‘Any chance of a cup of tea for Doc and me?’ Danny asked. ‘Marion was helping me get the horses into the stables, but we took her home before we came back here.’
‘I’ll make a fresh pot,’ Sam said.
‘There’s a fruit cake in the tin,’ Jessie called after him. ‘Slice it up on a plate!’
‘I must go,’ Min said. ‘My brood will be home and waiting for their supper.’
Kathleen said, ‘You will come again, won’t you? I wore your warm cape all winter, you know, and the sprig of lucky heather is still in the pocket. I am so grateful to you; I wouldn’t have got here without your help.’
‘It is always good to hear of a happy ending to troubles,’ said Min, ‘and here you have a new family and a new life.’
NINE
On a sunny day in September, Danny turned to watch the progress of his bride down the aisle. Sam, his best man, gave his arm a squeeze of encouragement. Danny felt uncomfortable wearing a starched white shirt and high stiff collar with a tie instead of his usual neckerchief. His suit wasn’t new, but it had belonged to his late uncle and had not been much worn, due to it not being suitable wear for the brickyard. Jessie had altered it to fit him.
At Marion’s insistence, there had been no intimate moments for the two of them since the occasion that had precipitated their marriage. There had been no mention either of any pregnancy. Seeing Marion in her simple ivory gown with a band of flowers holding her veil in place, it became obvious to him that she still had her curvaceous figure but was not carrying any extra weight. He glanced at Sam, and because he knew his brother so well, he could guess that Sam was thinking the same.
Doc Wiseman had been asked to give the bride away, as Marion was determined to charm him now that he was involved in the enterprise with Danny. It will be the three of us, she thought, and Jessie, of course, but she will continue with her work and not interfere with us, I hope . . . As Marion walked past the front pew, she saw Kathleen holding the baby up to show her what was happening. She gave the girl a triumphant little smile before taking her place beside Danny and passing her small bouquet of red roses and asparagus fern to her mother.
Jessie, sitting next to Kathleen, squeezed her hand. Poor girl, she thought compassionately. She believed Danny was her knight in shining armour, and perhaps she had hopes she would be the bride today. But Danny, I am sure, will keep the promises he makes to Marion. Love will grow from friendship; I know that.
It was a simple ceremony: vows were exchanged, the wedding ring slid onto Marion’s finger. Danny already wore a signet ring, which had been his father’s. The choir led the singing of ‘Love Divine, All Loves Excelling’ and the minister gave a little homily as expected. Then the small wedding party left the church to the pealing of wedding bells. Jessie held Sam’s arm, and Kathleen, with Heather, followed them out into the bright sunshine.
The wedding breakfast was held at the farm; Jessie and Mrs Amos had worked hard to provide this, and Kathleen and Sam had promised to do all the washing-up later.
There was no honeymoon as such, for work was always a priority. Sam had decided to move out to the barn at the brickworks, though he was to help on the farm part-time as before, and Jessie insisted that until he had a stove to cook on, he should still have supper every day with the family. Marion, of course, would now assist Danny and Doc at the stables. What would Kathleen do?
Kathleen didn’t say much as she dried the dishes after the celebration meal, but Sam whistled cheerfully as he washed up in hot water with plenty of soda in it. The wedding party had trooped into the parlour, which Kathleen had helped to clean and polish. She and Jessie had filled vases with flowers from the garden, and the lid was up on the piano, which Marion could play by ear; it was called vamping, with the left hand striking the chords while the right hand produced the tune. The lyrics were printed on song sheets: ‘Nellie Dean’, ‘In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree’ and ‘Love’s Old Sweet Song’. Heather was bouncing on Jessie’s lap to the music. She was nine months old now, crawling and already pulling herself up by anything she could grab and hold on to in order to stand up. The furniture was pushed back, the carpet rolled up, leaving the floor clear for dancing.
Will anybody invite me to dance? Kathleen wondered wistfully. She wore the dress she had chosen from Jessie’s catalogue, for which she was paying a shilling a week from her wages. Blue like her eyes, it was made of soft cotton, with puff sleeves and a full skirt; the latest fashion, just right for whirling round a room, but the washing-up must be done first, so she had donned an apron to protect it.
Sam said, ‘I don’t mind missing the dancing; I tried once, and my partner said my feet were too big!’ He gave her a sideways glance; was she fighting back tears? Though Danny hadn’t given her any encouragement since he and Marion had announced their wedding plans, and nor had Sam himself.
Upstairs, the newly whitewashed rooms – the spare bedroom and the one next to it – were ready for the bride and groom. The spare room was now Danny and Marion’s bedroom, and the other room, which the brothers had shared all their lives until now, was to be a small private sitting room.
‘Where are you sleeping tonight?’ Kathleen asked Sam.
‘On the sofa, I suppose, with old Bob!’ he replied with a grin. ‘I’ll be officially leaving home tomorrow!’
‘Will you be all right at the brickworks, Sam? Have you a bed?’
‘Two beds actually. There are stacks of furniture upstairs,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It will be a bit strange not to share a room with my brot
her, but now Marion can put up with his snoring, eh? What about you?’ He turned to face her, drying his hands on a tea towel. ‘I know you were – well – drawn to Danny, if that’s the right way to put it. But if it’s any comfort, he might be thinking he has married the wrong girl right now.’
‘Don’t say that!’ she exclaimed. ‘It was far too soon after . . . I was too full of emotion after what I’d been through. I’ve got things straight in my mind now.’
‘Good. So have I, I hope. I would like you to move in with me.’
For a moment she didn’t know what to say, and then she blurted out, ‘Are you asking me to marry you, Sam? You said you weren’t ready for that yet, didn’t you?’
‘I’m not,’ he said quietly. ‘And it’s the same for you, isn’t it? Though I believe you would have changed your mind if Danny had asked you.’
‘That’s not so,’ she cried. She wanted to tell Sam that she still thought of the day he had kissed her, the first time she went to the brickworks. He had shown restraint ever since. True love was slow-burning, she could see that now.
‘I am asking you to work with me to make a home out of that barn, and to help me achieve my dream. I don’t expect you to do the heavy manual labour, though. I intend to set up the business with the money my uncle left me. I’ll employ a couple of chaps who have experience in the industry – we’d need to get in a stock of your favourite tea, because you’ll have to keep the workers fed and watered! You’ll be happy to hear that I’ll have a cart to transport the bricks to customers and I’ll let you choose the horse. It might not be a smart buggy, but you would be able to go out and about too.
‘I know Mother will be glad to look after Heather, just as she does now, but the baby could be with us whenever you’re not working. It isn’t practical or safe for a toddler to be around when we are busy with the bricks, though, is it? Also the smell is very pungent when they are being fired. I realise it would not be a comfortable place as it is here, yet . . .’
‘I’m not worried about that, Sam. I’d be independent, more or less, wouldn’t I? But people might talk.’ And it will be difficult to leave Home Farm, she thought.
‘You’re wearing a wedding ring, aren’t you? And I promise not to . . . take advantage of you, Kathleen.’
She experienced an unwelcome flash of memory about someone who had done just that, and the next thing she knew she was weeping in his arms and clinging to him. ‘I’ll work hard, Sam, I will.’
He disengaged himself gently, fetching a kitchen chair for her. ‘Hush, Kathleen, or someone will come to see what’s wrong. Sit down. I’m going to make us a cup of tea.’
‘You do like me, Sam, don’t you? I trust you!’
‘I won’t let you down, I promise.’ If only he could bring himself to say how he really felt about her, but he was holding back because of the secret she would not tell, and also because he could not reveal what he had discovered. ‘I’ll talk to Mother tonight if I get a chance,’ he said.
*
Marion had changed into her nightgown and was lying in the big double bed with the brass rails, which had been brought down from the attic. It had been up there since Danny’s grandparents had died. Danny waited for a while before he came into the room. He glanced at his new wife, who feigned sleep, and then proceeded to undress himself. The candle snuffed out, he climbed cautiously into bed. As he settled down, he suddenly became aware that she was shaking with laughter.
Her arms went round him and she whispered exultantly, ‘Together again at last!’
Danny had to know, so he asked, ‘Marion, you’re not expecting, are you?’
‘Silly boy, of course not. Mother gave me some advice before we . . . you know.’
‘Are you following that advice tonight?’
‘Of course I am. Mother said men can’t be trusted in that respect.’
‘Don’t you want a family?’ he demanded.
‘Not yet – do you?’
‘When you let me think you might be . . . well, I came round to the idea,’ he said, hurt at the deception.
‘Silly boy,’ she said again. ‘Stop talking, will you?’
He turned away from her. ‘I think we should get a good night’s sleep, Marion. It’s been a very busy day after all.’
Now it was Marion whose pillow was damp with tears. She didn’t fall asleep until the early hours, and then was woken at dawn by Danny with a kiss. ‘I’m sorry, Marion, about last night. Will you forgive me?’
‘I should be saying that, Danny. I shouldn’t have listened to Mother, but it’s difficult not to when you’re an only child and you are all she has.’
‘Let’s make a fresh start today. Are you coming down to the stables with me this morning? We will be alone there except for the horses. Kathleen is going to work with Sam from now on, Mother told me that late last night. Please be nice to her; she wants to be your friend, I know it. Nothing happened between the two of us, I swear to you. Perhaps you and I have married too young, I don’t know, but we both have to grow up quickly, eh?’
A discreet tap on their door made them start. Jessie called, ‘Breakfast in half an hour! Did you have a good night – oh, sorry, not the thing to ask of newly-weds!’
Danny and Marion looked at each other and burst out laughing. ‘Mother, as you say, don’t ask!’
*
Jessie had enjoyed a good sort-out upstairs the past week. ‘Haven’t looked at any of the furniture for years, and guess what I found? A high chair and a cot for Heather! They need a good scrub and a coat of paint, of course.’
Kathleen, busy spooning bread and milk into Heather’s mouth while she sat on her lap, said, ‘Oh good. She only just fits into the basket now. Jessie, before the others come down, I want to say how kind it is of you to go along with our arrangements.’
‘My dear, Sam’s made a good choice.’
‘There’s nothing more to it,’ Kathleen told her.
‘Not at the moment, perhaps, but nothing would please me more. I really would be Heather’s grandmother if you two—’ She broke off as Sam came in for his breakfast.
‘We two what?’ he queried with a grin.
‘You know,’ Jessie said, passing over his plate of eggs and bacon.
‘Do I?’ he said too innocently.
This time she ignored him. ‘Pass Heather to me, Kathleen, and I’ll see to her upstairs. Your breakfast is in the warming oven along with Danny’s and Marion’s. They should be down shortly, I hope.’ She paused. ‘Are you moving out today?’ she asked.
‘No, probably in a day or two, Mother,’ Sam replied.
‘You see, I believe I’m about to have another lodger. Doc has to find new rooms. His landlady told him that her son and his family are coming to care for her now she’s not so capable as she was. When I’ve cleared the attic room and the attic itself, Doc says that will be ideal for his needs. Only a few months ago, it was just you boys and me; now we will soon be bulging at the seams.’
‘He will pay, I presume, for you to look after him?’ Sam asked.
‘Of course! I will employ someone to help me here too.’ She looked at Kathleen. ‘I want you to feel this is still your home, Kathleen. Your room will be ready for you at any time, but I will call it Heather’s room now, eh? Oh, here they come at last.’
‘My fault,’ Marion said apologetically, sitting down at the kitchen table. ‘I didn’t know what to wear. I shall need some breeks like Kathleen. I’m looking forward to being with the horses; I rode a lot when I was a child.’
Danny tweaked her hair, piled on top of her head. ‘Have you ever milked goats?’
‘No, but I like a challenge,’ she said, looking at Kathleen, who flushed, because this was something she had not taken to at all.
‘We must go.’ Sam pushed back his chair. ‘I expect you want to give Heather a hug, so I’ll fetch the buggy now while you do that.’
Upstairs, Jessie saw Kathleen’s eyes well up as she kissed the gurgling ba
by. ‘Don’t worry about leaving her this morning, Kathleen – grandmothers all over the country look after the children while their mothers are at work . . . it’s traditional.’
*
Marion soon got the hang of milking the goats. She showed Danny the two brimming pails. ‘Haven’t you got a yoke to carry them?’
‘Not that I know of,’ he said.
‘We . . . Mother has one in her barn; we ought to go over later on to see if she’s recovered from yesterday.’
‘Sleeping off all those glasses of elderberry wine, I guess.’
‘Oh dear.’ Marion became agitated. ‘Has she fed the poultry, do you think?’
‘Don’t worry. She told me her new assistant would see to everything this morning,’ he assured her. ‘Time to feed our hens and collect the eggs,’ he reminded her.
Later, when they were about to take the milk back to the farm, they looked in on the horses in the stables. They would return later for the jobs to be done there. As Marion stroked the mare, Danny came up behind her and encircled her with his arms, his hands sliding up to clasp her full breasts. He whispered in her ear, ‘Sorry again about last night. Can I make up for it as we did before?’
‘Do you mean . . .?’
‘Yes, and don’t pretend you weren’t thinking the same,’ he said, as he helped her up the ladder into the hayloft.
*
Jessie cuddled Heather close before she put her in the pram for her morning nap. ‘They’re taking their time bringing home the milk, Heather; I wonder why?’ She dabbed at the dribble on Heather’s chin with her bib. ‘But we can guess, can’t we?’
I’m not too old to remember all this, she thought, although my Wilf was fifteen years older than me. I was nineteen too, when I married him. I was twenty when Sam was born, so I’m only just forty-four now, but no one seems aware of that. I’ve been Mother for so long, and now I think of myself as a grandmother . . . Wilf liked me to let down my hair; he said it was russet like the autumn leaves. But now I’ve reached a turning point in my life.
The Winter Baby Page 7
