Annie

by Val Wood

  ‘Get out, both of thee,’ said their mother and aimed a slap across their heads. ‘This lady wants to talk to Robin and she can’t with thee in bed. Go on, out, saucy jackanapes.’

  Annie smiled at the harassed woman. She knew how hard it was to deal with a handful of children, especially when one of them was sick. But these youngsters, except for the sick one looked happy enough. Not cowed and frightened as hers had often been when Alan had been at home.

  ‘Is tha husband away?’ she asked.

  The woman shook her head, puzzled by the question. ‘No, thank God, he’s in regular work just now and earning money, and I’m onny sorry that Robin is sick and can’t go out, for I badly need some proper sleep in my bed instead of on ’floor.’

  ‘Sorry, Jinny.’ Robin stretched his hand out to his sister. ‘I’m feeling much better. Tha can have thy bed back tonight, honest.’

  Jinny patted his hand, and picking up her shawl wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘I’m off to get a jug o’ milk,’ she said. ‘I won’t be long,’ and nodded to Annie as she went out of the door, scooping up the children with her as she went.

  ‘I’m sorry, Annie. We can’t make ’trip this time, I can’t hardly stand. Maybe next week if ’weather holds.’ Robin gazed at her from watery, bloodshot eyes and whispered, ‘tell Master Toby how sorry I am.’

  Annie sat on the edge of the bed, not too close as to risk catching anything, but already feeling the heat from the fire which was blazing in the hearth. She fanned her face with her hand. ‘There’s no wonder tha’s sweating,’ she said. ‘It’s like a furnace in here.’

  ‘Doctor said to keep ’fire built up and ’blankets piled on so as to sweat out ’fever,’ Robin wheezed. ‘I feel like I’m lying in ’middle of a lake; I’m soaked through, but if that’s what’s to be done!’

  Annie nodded. That was the cure, she knew, and if you were strong enough to stand the sweating then the fever would subside, but, she looked anxiously at the child beside Robin, this recklin doesn’t look strong at all. A sudden anxiety hit her. Her own bairn Ted, wasn’t healthy. Would he be looked after properly at the Seaman’s Hospital. Would they sit with him and hold his hand as she did?

  Tears came to her eyes and she held back a sudden emotion. What if he’d died and she hadn’t been there to comfort him?

  ‘Annie? Is tha crying?’ Robin spoke huskily. ‘Don’t cry over me. I’ll soon be up and about.’

  She sniffed away her tears. ‘No, I’m not,’ she said. ‘I was just thinking that I’d go on my own. Up to ’Wolds I mean.’

  Robin hoisted himself onto one elbow. ‘Tha can’t.’ He was scandalized. ‘What would Master Toby say? He’d be that mad. It’s far too dangerous for thee on tha own.’

  Annie put her chin in her hand and pondered, patting her fingers against her cheek. ‘He wouldn’t know until I was well gone and then it would be too late. We’ve loads of stuff to sell. If tha’d let me have Charlie, I’d pay thee for loan of him, and then tha won’t be too much out of pocket.’

  She suddenly remembered the donkey tied up outside and all the goods in the cart, to say nothing of the items hidden beneath the blankets, and stood up.

  ‘Wait, Annie. I don’t know. Tha can have Charlie gladly and I want nowt for him, he’ll look after thee, same as I would, but tha can’t go alone.’

  ‘Pooh, course I can. I’ll be back in three days and Toby won’t even know I’m gone. Don’t tell him unless tha has to. Don’t worry him if tha can help it.’ She knew that Toby wouldn’t let her go. That he was doubtful about her even going with Robin when bad weather was imminent. He would certainly put his foot down about going alone, but she wanted to. She wanted to know if she could be independent, to know if she could manage without a man to protect her.

  She remembered her fear when she’d heard that Alan had died. How she’d wailed and cried to her friend Maria that she was finished, that she and her children would starve with no man to protect them. But they didn’t starve for she had found Francis, who had fed them and given her money, but oh, she shuddered, at what price.

  ‘Take care, Annie. I can’t say I’m happy about this, but take Charlie, he’s tied up round ’back.’

  Annie turned to him from the door. ‘Tha sister called me a lady.’

  ‘Aye, that’s what I told her tha was. She’s a proper lady, is Mrs Hope, that’s what I said.’ Robin sank back into the bed. ‘And I meant it, tha’s a real brave lady, Annie.’

  A grin turned up her lips. A lady. She’d never been called that before. Many other names, but not that one.

  Charlie greeted her enthusiastically, leaping into the air with all four legs off the ground and his tail wagging fit to drop off. Then seeing the cart waiting with one of Robin’s nephews patiently guarding it, he leapt in with a bound and sat eagerly waiting, his tongue lolling from his panting mouth.

  The going was harder than she’d imagined, for the tracks up the hillside were muddy and slippery and she had to take the donkey by the reins and pull when he sometimes refused to move. She fell several times and soon her boots and cloak were caked with mud. As she reached the summit of the hills it became easier, the chalky ground was harder and less muddy and the air was drier, the fog disappeared and she could smell the sharpness of winter.

  She allowed the donkey to graze for a few minutes and Charlie to run and sniff, he caught the scent of rabbits and chased round and round searching eagerly and she let her gaze wander at the landscape around her. The sky was bright with no sign of snow, though the sharpness of the cold pure air pierced her nostrils, and the brightness reflected on the chalk-white track in front of her. It stretched onwards through an expanse of open, gently undulating country, without a sign of habitation, not a cottage or farmstead could she see, but merely a coppice of trees standing dark against the sky in the distance.

  ‘Come on, Charlie,’ she shouted. ‘Let’s be off. We can maybe reach them trees by midday and tha can have a fine time lifting thy leg at all of them.’ The dog looked up at her voice and then set off after her as she urged on the donkey with a crack of the whip.

  She looked down into a shallow vale from the coppice as she sat and ate a hunk of bread and cheese. She had learned now to pack some food for her midday meal and she had brought plenty for she had packed for Robin too. Water she had brought also, for though the water in the Wolds was sweet and pure, streams were infrequent in the dry valleys.

  At the western end of the valley she could see a farmstead, a cluster of barns and low buildings. We haven’t called at that place, she thought. We skirted ’top of this vale and went down ’other side. I’ll maybe give them a call this time.

  The farmer’s wife was eager to buy. ‘Nobody comes down here, we’re onny farmstead in this valley and it’s a long pull uphill to get out, so they allus miss us. Next vale has more folks in it.’

  ‘Well, I’ll call on thee, missus, though maybe not every time, and I might not get here again until spring on account of ’weather. They say it gets bad out here.’

  The woman looked at her in surprise. ‘Dossn’t tha know about our weather? By, Mrs Hope, if tha’s not prepared for it tha’d better be getting off home. Another couple o’ days and snow will be here.’

  Annie looked out of the low window at the blue sky and smiled. ‘Doesn’t look much like snow to me. It’s a beautiful day.’

  ‘Take notice on what I say,’ the woman assured her. ‘It’ll snow! Now, let’s see what tha’s got.’

  As Annie puffed and panted up the hill out of the valley she realized why the woman was so glad to see her. Poor soul won’t see anybody save her husband and a few pigs and sheep. I’ll have to think twice afore I tackle this hill again. Her heart hammered against her chest, her ears pounded and her vision was filled with floating stars. Still, she bought plenty, and some tea, she thought gleefully. How her eyes lit up when I offered her that.

  She reached the top of the ridge and caught her breath. The wind was much sharper up here and a
few clouds were rolling in. She cracked the whip again and headed off, this time in the direction of the Sutcliff’s inn. She had asked directions of the farmer’s wife and she had said that it was no more than a three hour walk, less by donkey or mule.

  The road curved and undulated through shallow valley bottoms and gentle hills, and here and there she found a farmstead nestling within a dip, or an isolated hamlet, and in each she stopped and offered her wares. She sold mostly fustian and strong linen and a large quantity of buttons and thread, needles and knitting pins, but she didn’t offer tea or tobacco, for though these people invited her in, they were reserved and uncommunicative and she was afraid of being rebuffed.

  She recognized the next valley as being the last one before reaching the Sutcliff’s and she heaved a sigh of relief. She was so weary and it was almost dusk. She looked up. Coming out of the darkness down the hill towards her was a company of soldiers and she drew in a breath of dismay.

  ‘Jump in Charlie. Come on.’ She ordered the dog into the cart where he curled up on the blankets and she stepped down and walked alongside the donkey.

  ‘Good evening to ye, Mrs Hope.’

  Thank goodness it’s Sergeant Collins, she thought. I hope he remembers what I did for him.

  ‘You’re out late tonight, and alone! That’s hardly wise. Where’s your brother?’

  ‘My brother? Oh. Robin. He’s sick, and all these good folk out here are waiting for their warm wool cloth ready to make up for winter. I couldn’t let them down so I came by myself.’

  ‘How very commendable.’ He gave her a wry look as he sat above her on his bay stallion.

  ‘Has tha been to Sutcliff’s?’ she asked cheekily. ‘I’m just on me way there now. I’m ready for a good supper.’

  ‘No.’ He shifted uneasily in his saddle. ‘We’ve had to miss them this time.’

  She thought that one or two of the men muttered to each other and Sergeant Collins spoke sharply to them.

  ‘We’ve called several times and they’ve been most hospitable. However,’ he hesitated as if debating what to say, then said quietly, ‘it doesn’t do, I’m afraid, to become too friendly. We have a job to do out here – questions to ask which might impose a strain on friendship.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.’ She suddenly felt afraid. Did he suspect Mr Sutcliff of receiving smuggled goods? Was he trying to warn her? And yet, she felt a pang of sympathy for these soldiers so far from home, who were trying to assist the customs officers in endorsing the King’s regulations amongst lonely farmsteads in open country, or on windswept river-banks and hostile coastal villages.

  Sergeant Collins signalled to his troop to ride on and they continued along the valley. He swung down from his mount and her sympathy disappeared. What if he should want to search the cart? Charlie growled but stayed on the blanket as he approached.

  ‘Can I offer thee a pretty ribbon? I said last time I saw thee I would have more goods.’ She made as if to open a pack.

  He shook his head and she saw his lips turn down.

  ‘I think I know someone who would appreciate it,’ she was flippant and yet still he remained serious.

  ‘Mrs Hope, can I speak with ye?’

  He gazed at her so gravely that she was quite sure he was about to tell her that he knew exactly what was in the cart and that he was about to take her into custody. She was sure he was only saving her the embarrassment of arresting her in front of his men, because she had previously been kind enough to direct them towards a warm fire and good food and ale.

  Her legs started to tremble, her stomach churned and she tasted half digested food in her throat. Oh, I hope I’m not sick. Oh, don’t let me retch. Not here in front of him. Will I hang? But I can’t hang twice. Would I rather swing for a few ankers of brandy and a sack of tea than for—?

  ‘Mrs Hope?’ He touched her arm. ‘Can I confide in ye?’

  She clutched the side of the cart. ‘What? Oh – aye, ’course tha can.’ Her sickness started to subside as she realized that he was more concerned over some trouble of his own, than he was over any misdemeanor of hers.

  ‘It’s about Miss Sutcliff – Lily.’

  Annie started to smile, weakly at first at her own deliverance, then with more gaiety as she thought that Sergeant Collins was about to tell her of his warm feelings for Lily.

  ‘I want ye to do me a favour. Will ye tell Lily that I’ve had to go away? Tell her that I’ve been transferred.’

  ‘But why? Is it true?’

  ‘Not strictly, though we shall be moving on soon. No. It’s just that it’s better if I don’t visit again.’

  Annie eyed him suspiciously. ‘Tha’s not got her into trouble and trying to slide out of it?’

  He looked shocked. ‘Nay. I was brought up to be a strict Calvinist. There’s been nothing of that sort.’

  She was unsure what a Calvinist was, but by the look on his face it appeared there was not much merrymaking, which was probably a pity. But poor Lily. Was her only chance of meeting a worthy man about to slip away?

  ‘Then why? I reckon she could get fond of thee, given ’chance.’

  ‘That’s the trouble you see. I could get very fond of her, I am already.’ He twined long strands of his horse’s mane around his fingers and looked down the darkness of the valley towards where his men were merging into the landscape, merely a blur of red uniform standing out from the shadows.

  ‘I already have a wife.’

  The statement came out terse and blunt and Annie stared at him open-mouthed. Poor Lily.

  ‘I was married at seventeen and joined the regiment six months later. I’ve seen my wife no more than six times in fourteen years. I can’t even remember what she looks like, yet we’re tied together for life. And as for Lily. What can I tell her? That my marriage was a mistake? That I can offer her nothing? I could love her, I know that, and I think she could love me.’

  Annie nodded. ‘Aye,’ she said quietly. ‘I think she probably could.’

  ‘So will ye tell her? Tell her that I’ve been called away, and that I’m sorry. You’ll know what to say – being a woman. You’ll have the right words.’

  Her lips trembled as she watched him ride away. He cantered swiftly down the valley until he was barely to be seen, then she narrowed her eyes as she saw him rein in and turn towards her and canter back again.

  ‘I’m so troubled by my own thoughts that I almost forgot. Be careful, Mrs Hope.’

  ‘What? Nay, I’m perfectly safe. There’s nobody who’d harm me out here.’

  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what I mean and well ye know it. Take care. There’s a revenue man who’s running a vendetta against particular smugglers. Make sure you’re not involved.’

  He turned and cantered away again before she could make any reply to his warning and with a shiver which ran down her spine she climbed back into the cart and drove up the hill.

  There was a lantern hanging on the gate of the Sutcliff’s inn and she stopped and opened up a pack by its light. She took out a length of dark blue ribbon and carefully cut it with her scissors, and tied the piece into a bow. Then she placed it back onto the top of the pack and refastened it.

  ‘Come on then, Ned. Tha’ll be glad of some oats. Tha’s worked hard today.’ She stroked the donkey’s ears and led him into the yard. Charlie jumped down from the back of the cart and stretched himself and then went to the door of the inn and barked.

  She put her hand up to knock but the door opened and Lily stood there, her face smiling with pleasure at seeing Annie.

  ‘It’s so good to see thee, Annie. Come in, do.’

  Aye, she’ll not think so in a minute, Annie thought as she entered the inn. There’s no amount of tea or pretty muslins that’ll make up for what I’ve got to tell her.

  13

  Mr Sutcliff helped her unload the cart. She pulled back the blankets and he lifted out two half ankers of geneva and one of brandy. She kept the bag of tea for Lily well hidden.
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  ‘Tha did well,’ he whispered and lifted the spirits into a wooden barrow. She followed him down the yard and into the vegetable garden and held a lantern high as he lifted up some heavy boards which were lying on the ground. Beneath the boards was a deep pit and into this he stored the spirits.

  He wiped his brow. ‘Thanks. Let’s get into supper before those wenches wonder what we’re up to.’

  ‘I just wanted to tell thee,’ she said urgently. ‘Be careful. I’ve had a tip off. Revenue men are about, so watch out for strangers.’

  ‘And what about ’sodgers? I’ve not seen them about.’

  ‘They’re moving on, so I hear. They’ll not be up here again for a bit.’

  Supper was already on the table as they went in and Rose manoeuvred the places so that she could sit down next to Annie. ‘I’m sorry that Robin is ill,’ she whispered as she helped her to floury potatoes. ‘Will tha tell him I was asking about him and hope he’ll soon be well.’ She blushed as she spoke and Annie glanced across at Meg who was sucking enthusiastically on pigs’ trotters, and realized that she had been mistaken, it was sweet Rose who Robin hankered for, not merry Meg, and the desire appeared to be reciprocated.

  She wasn’t able to speak to Lily alone until they went up to bed, and Joan, Meg and Rose were finishing off their chores in the kitchen.

  ‘Has tha seen Sergeant Collins?’ Lily asked shyly. ‘He hasn’t been here for a week or two. He’s a very pleasant man, a man I can talk to.’

  Annie sighed and sat on the bed. ‘Come and sit here,’ she said and patted the patchwork coverlet. ‘I want to talk to thee.’

  Lily did as she was bid. ‘Tha’s seen him,’ she smiled. ‘Is he coming?’

  ‘No.’ Annie shook her head and grasped Lily’s hand. ‘He’s not. I’ve seen him, it’s true, and I’ve a message for thee. But it’s not a message tha’ll want to hear. At least not entirely, though tha’s lucky to have such a fine man think of thee so well.’