The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  Her hand was still bandaged and she was limping slightly, but Jenny was smiling happily.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Maddie said as she hugged her. ‘Should you be out of hospital so soon?’

  Jenny giggled. ‘They couldn’t keep me. They took all the bits of shot out and I badgered the doctor to let me out. But Steven and – and Theo . . .’ she glanced back over her shoulder, ‘have been so kind. They scarcely let me out of their sight. If Steven’s not with me bullying me to take care, then Theo is. Oh Maddie, it’s so wonderful to have a real family and what’s even better is to know that we – you and me – are really related. Every morning when I wake up and remember, I still can’t quite believe it.’

  Maddie felt a swift stab of envy, but immediately felt guilty. She had her family. Michael and Adam, and even Harriet now, and still she had Jenny. She would have to be satisfied with that.

  Jenny was interrupting her wandering thoughts. ‘When the Parade’s over, Theo wants us all to meet him at the White Hart for tea. Mrs Trowbridge as well.’ Jenny leant closer to Maddie and whispered, ‘Does she know about me?’ When Maddie nodded, Jenny added, ‘And how did she take it?’

  ‘All right. She’s changed.’ Maddie grinned, ‘Well, not that much, but she’s coming to terms with the past. No more grudges.’

  Jenny gave a sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness. Anyway, you’ll come to the tea party then?’

  There was an air of excitement about Jenny and Maddie wondered briefly if there was an announcement to be made about Steven and herself. Maybe, Maddie thought, they’ve finally set a date for their wedding.

  ‘We’ll be there,’ Maddie promised. ‘All of us.’

  ‘Good. I must go. See you later . . .’ And she disappeared into the crowd as quickly as she had come.

  ‘It’s going to grow and grow, this Parade, Maddie. Whoever thought it up, it’s a brilliant idea.’

  ‘Well, Steven was in on it from the first, but several people have all worked together to make it happen.’

  ‘Only a few floats this year but, you watch, every year there’ll be more and more.’

  ‘Look, Mam. Here it comes. The first one’s the Tulip Queen.’ Adam was pointing excitedly to the first float in the procession. The pretty girl in a long white dress and a tiara upon her head, sat at the centre of a huge flower with red petals, waving to the crowd as the float passed by. The following decorated lorry had a large crown fashioned out of metal and adorned with flower heads. After that came a car with a circle of flowers around it at bumper level, so wide that it doubled the width of the car.

  ‘How on earth is he going to get that round corners?’ Michael laughed.

  Then came a tractor almost completely covered with red flowers and the lettering ‘Join the YFC’ picked out in golden tulip heads. The next float was their own from Few Farm, proudly driven by Ron Smith almost hidden beneath the profusion of flowers.

  ‘Oh Mam, just look at that one.’ The last float in the procession was perhaps the biggest of all; an enormous butterfly, the details of its wing markings picked out with different coloured tulips.

  ‘Isn’t that beautiful?’ Maddie breathed. ‘Steven was right, when he said there ought to be a better way than just dumping the discarded heads. What a lovely way to make use of them.’

  ‘Now, next year,’ Michael was laughing beside her, ‘we’ll build the biggest and the best float ever.’

  Despite all the recent tragedy that had touched them all, a warm glow of happiness spread through Maddie’s soul. Michael would be here, with her and Adam, next year and all the years to come.

  Even if she never found out the truth about her family, she could be happy with that.

  Fifty-Nine

  As the last marching band passed them by, Michael said, ‘Come along, we’d better go and find Jenny and Steven – and Mr Theo.’

  He was waiting for them in the bar at the White Hart and came forward to greet them.

  ‘I’ve hired a private room,’ he told them. ‘But before we go in . . .’ He took Maddie’s hand and looked down at her. ‘I have a surprise for you, Maddie, but I thought I should, in fairness, warn you.’ His glance went beyond her now to Harriet. ‘And you, Mrs Trowbridge. I didn’t want it to be a shock for you. For either of you.’

  Puzzled, Harriet glanced at Michael, who put his face close to hers and whispered in her ear. For a moment the woman looked startled, but then she nodded. ‘I’ll be all right, Mr Theo. Maddie has a right to . . .’

  Before she could say any more, Theo smiled and put his finger to his lips. ‘Not another word, Mrs Trowbridge, or you’ll spoil my fun.’ He held out his arm to Maddie and said softly, ‘Are you ready?’

  Maddie gave a laugh that sounded strangely nervous. ‘Well, I’m not quite sure what for, but yes.’

  Michael, with Harriet on his arm and Adam bringing up the rear, followed behind them.

  As he opened the door, she saw Steven first and then Jenny sitting beside Amelia Mayfield and holding her hand.

  ‘Oh Theo. I’m so glad. How lovely to see them together.’ In a low voice she asked, ‘Does your sister understand?’

  Quietly, Theo said, ‘I’m not sure, but we’re hoping in time . . .’

  ‘Oh thank you, thank you for doing this for Jenny . . .’ Maddie began to say, but Theo was shaking his head. ‘That’s not the surprise, Maddie.’

  She became aware then that there were three other people standing at the far side of the room. An old man, leaning on a stick, and a younger man and woman standing one on either side of him.

  Maddie looked at them and when her glance came to rest on the woman, her mouth opened in a shocked gasp. She was older than Maddie, possibly by as much as ten years, but she had the same fair hair, the same blue eyes, and even the same saucy smile that lit up her eyes until they sparkled.

  It could be me in a few years time, Maddie thought. And then she knew. This was her sister. It had to be.

  Theo was leading her towards them and she was clinging to his arm, suddenly afraid that her legs were going to let her down.

  The old man was staring at her and as she drew closer she could see that tears were coursing down his wrinkled cheeks, but still he never took his gaze away from her. And as she stood before him, she heard his whisper. ‘Madeleine.’

  The stick fell out of his grasp and clattered to the floor. The old man tottered and swiftly the two on either side of him caught hold of him and steadied him. But he seemed oblivious to his own frailty, for he was stretching out both his arms to Maddie.

  She went into them, putting her own arms around his neck and murmuring, ‘Dad, oh my daddy.’

  ‘My baby, my baby!’ He was weeping openly now against her neck and clutching her to him. ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me. It broke my heart to leave you, but I couldn’t take care of you. You might have died like my poor Mary. I didn’t know what else to do. Forgive me. Forgive me.’

  There was scarcely a dry eye in the room. Even Harriet was fishing in her handbag for her handkerchief.

  And then as Maddie drew back and looked into Matt Cuppleditch’s face, she held his hands between her own and said, ‘It’s all right. It’s all right, really. There’s nothing to forgive. I’m just so happy to have found you.’ She looked to the two standing beside him. ‘All of you.’

  Then they were all laughing and crying together. Theo brought a chair for Matt and they clustered around him, all speaking at once.

  ‘We saw the piece in the paper and showed it to Dad,’ the woman began to explain. ‘Then Roland . . .’ she nodded towards the man, ‘rang Mr Theo.’

  ‘I wanted to come back for you, so many times,’ the old man was murmuring, ‘but I felt so ashamed of just leaving you there . . .’

  ‘We’re living near King’s Lynn now. It’s not far away . . .’

  ‘He’s talked so often about you. I’m Alison, by the way. Aren’t we alike . . .?’

  Her brother, Roland, was interrupting. ‘There’s two more of us,
but they live in London. They’re coming to see you as soon as they can. But they’ve families. You’ve more nephews and nieces, besides Jenny.’ He smiled across at Jenny, anxious to include her.

  ‘You know about Jenny?’ Maddie asked and her newfound brother nodded. ‘Mr Mayfield . . .’

  ‘Theo, please,’ Theo put in.

  Roland smiled, ‘Theo has explained everything.’

  There was no bitterness, no recriminations, they were just so happy, all of them, to be reunited. The only difficult moment was when Maddie turned and drew Harriet forward. ‘You remember Harriet, don’t you?’

  There was a silence in the room now as everyone watched and waited.

  Matt looked up at her and then held out his hand. ‘Of course we do. How are you, my dear?’

  Harriet was overcome and unable to speak but she took the old man’s outstretched hand and nodded vigorously. Relieved, everyone began to talk at once again.

  It was all right. Everything was going to be all right.

  To one side of the room, unseen by Maddie, Michael held out his hand to Theo. ‘Thank you, Mr Theo, for all you’ve done for Maddie. Thank you for making her happiness complete.’

  Theo took his hand and placed his other hand on Michael’s shoulder. His voice was husky as he said, ‘You’re a lucky man, Michael Brackenbury. Take care of her, won’t you?’

  ‘Oh I will, Mr Theo. I will.’

  The Tulip Girl

  Born in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire, Margaret Dickinson moved to the coast at the age of seven and so began her love for the sea and the Lincolnshire landscape.

  Her ambition to be a writer began early and she had her first novel published at the age of twenty-five. This was followed by twenty-eight further titles including Plough the Furrow, Sow the Seed and Reap the Harvest, which make up her Lincolnshire Fleethaven trilogy. Many of her novels are set in the heart of her home county but in Tangled Threads and Twisted Strands, the stories included not only Lincolnshire but also the framework knitting and lace industries of Nottingham. The Workhouse Museum at Southwell in Nottinghamshire inspired Without Sin and the magnificent countryside of Derbyshire and the fascinating town of Macclesfield in Cheshire formed the backdrop for the story of Pauper’s Gold. Wish Me Luck returned to Lincolnshire once more and the county was also the setting for Sing As We Go. Part of the story in Suffragette Girl took place in Davos, Switzerland, but Sons and Daughters was set solely in the flat marshlands near the East Coast. Forgive and Forget centres on the rich history of the beautiful city of Lincoln. Jenny’s War is divided between Margaret Dickinson’s beloved Lincolnshire, wartime London and the rolling hills and dales of Derbyshire. Second World War Sheffield is the setting of The Clippie Girls.

  www.margaret-dickinson.co.uk

  ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON

  Plough the Furrow

  Sow the Seed

  Reap the Harvest

  The Miller’s Daughter

  Chaff upon the Wind

  The Fisher Lass

  The River Folk

  Tangled Threads

  Twisted Strands

  Red Sky in the Morning

  Without Sin

  Pauper’s Gold

  Wish Me Luck

  Sing As We Go

  Suffragette Girl

  Sons and Daughters

  Forgive and Forget

  Jenny’s War

  The Clippie Girls

  Acknowledgements

  The glorious tulip fields of Spalding and district were the inspiration for this novel, although the story is entirely fictitious. I am very grateful to Mr Reg Dobbs, OBE, author of Bulbs in Britain – A Century of Growing, for his kind interest and help and the loan of photographs to help with the cover design.

  Aspects of Spalding – 1790–1930 and Aspects of Spalding – People and Places by Norman Leveritt and Michael J. Elsden were a wonderful source of general information.

  My very special thanks to Mr Robert Molson, who generously gave his time to introduce me to the area and to share his memories with me.

  My love and thanks as always to my family and friends, especially those who read and helped edit the script in the early stages; my sister and brother-in-law, Robena and Fred Hill; my brother and sister-in-law, David and Una Dickinson; my friends, Pauline Griggs and Linda and Terry Allaway.

  First published 2000 by Macmillan

  First published 2013 by Pan Books

  This electronic edition published 2013 by Pan Books

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

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  www.panmacmillan.com

  ISBN 978-1-4472-1637-7 EPUB

  Copyright © Margaret Dickinson 2000

  The right of Margaret Dickinson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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