Annie

by Val Wood

  She shook her head and said firmly. ‘No, Mrs Burnby. You’re very kind to suggest it but I couldn’t deprive you, I—.’ A thought struck her; she knew just the person. ‘I’ve thought of someone who would, I’m almost sure, be glad to come.’

  Joan Sutcliff. She’s so miserable at home with Lily happy with Sergeant Collins, and young Meg with a beau. They can manage without her, I’m sure she’ll Come, and I can be myself with her, I shan’t have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing.

  She beamed at Mrs Burnby. ‘I’ll write straight away and ask her. More chocolate, Mrs Burnby?’

  * * *

  Joan Sutcliff didn’t write back but simply arrived a week later in a hired chaise. She jumped down from the steps and hauled out six pieces of luggage and flung her arms around Annie’s neck. ‘Tha’s saved my life, Annie. I thought I would go mad at home with Lily and Stuart and now Meg, all mooning around lovesick.’

  ‘I can’t promise that it will be very exciting,’ Annie laughed, ‘but it will be different.’

  Joan looked up at the house. ‘Oh, it’s so grand, Annie.’ She clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘Mrs Linton, I mean. I’m sorry, I might forget sometimes at first, tha’ll have to forgive me?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter Joan – Miss Sutcliff, I mean,’ Annie answered with a laugh. ‘We’ll just have to try and remember when there’s anyone else about. But this will be a friendly household. I’ve already decided that. I couldn’t live here otherwise.’

  Henry Linton arrived back a few days later and expressed no surprise to find another female in the house. He greeted Joan pleasantly enough and asked polite questions about trade on learning that her father was an innkeeper.

  ‘Well, Anna. I know that you are anxious to know the news,’ he said as he poured the two ladies wine at supper.

  Joan rose from the table. ‘Would you like me to leave, sir? You have matters to discuss with Mrs Linton.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not unless Mrs Linton wishes it.’

  She said she didn’t and Joan sat down again, casting a hesitant glance at Annie. It was going to work, Annie thought with relief. I’m so glad that she came.

  ‘Well, as I told you, they’ve located the ship he is sailing on. Located – Pah! What they mean is that it’s somewhere between the Atlantic and the English Channel. The seas are full of ships and it is apparent to me that these powdered big-wigs who are supposedly running the war, don’t know the difference between a man-o’-war and a cork in a tub! There’s news of mutiny on our ships. The men are sick of poor food and conditions on board, not to mention the fact that most of them would rather be home minding their shops.’ He poured himself another glass of wine and stared into it and Annie waited patiently for him to continue.

  ‘Anyway. I got them to agree that Matthias shouldn’t have been pressed. It was a liberty to do so; not only as a gentleman, but also that he was exempt as a captain of a merchant ship. I told them that I would bring an action in the courts if necessary. They’ll talk to their law officers. It’s only a matter of procedure now.’

  Annie felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘So – so, then he can come home?’

  He nodded. ‘He can come home.’ His voice was husky. ‘God willing that he is alive and well and not in a watery grave alongside his brother.’

  Annie saw in his face the great strain Henry Linton was under. Not only was he full of regrets for what had happened in the past, but now he must feel that he was in danger of losing Matt as well as Toby. She reached out a hand towards him. ‘We musn’t lose hope.’ Her voice choked. ‘He’s strong and vigorous, he’ll not let a few Frenchies stop him from coming home to us.’

  * * *

  Though they seemed to have reached a mutual understanding of each other, both Henry Linton and Annie knew that life together wouldn’t be easy and there were times when their tempers frayed and they could not hold in their emotions any longer. Then either Henry would object to her ‘mollycoddling’ the servants as he called it, or she would call him a tyrant for the way he treated them, and they would slam doors or shout at each other, and that in turn would lead him to roar that she was no better than a street urchin and she would screech that that was exactly what she was.

  Then she would pack a bag and go off to York and stay with Robin and Rose, who greeted her with delight, but who, she realized, no longer needed her there for the business. The accounts were always up to date and the cloth from the merchants always ordered in good time for the next season; and after a week or so, she would bid them goodbye and return to Staveley Park.

  But Henry Linton was protective towards her and though he insisted that she accompany him to social activities, he made sure that he was always at her side in case awkward questions about her background should be asked. She detached herself from the idle chatter of the ladies, and towards Clara and Jane, who occasionally came to stay with their aunt, Mrs Burnby, she remained aloof. And these two qualities which she maintained merely because of nervousness and what she thought of as her inadequacies, somehow added to her mystery.

  And in spite of their differences she and Henry Linton began to realize that they were very alike, and Annie recalled the verbal fights that she and Matt used to have and the names he used to call her, before they realized that the emotion they felt wasn’t hate, but love. And in remembering this, Annie’s ragings at Henry Linton became tinged with humour and they would start with anger and finish with laughter.

  The servants, and now there were more, seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at this change of atmosphere, and Jed one day touched his forehead and said, ‘Don’t thee worry about me and Mayster over much, ma’am. I’d be powerful bothered if he didn’t rant and rave at me – I’d think I’d done summat really wrong,’ and Annie began to realize that there was a different order of things in this society; that sometimes people were more comfortable knowing their place and what was expected of them.

  She had asked Henry Linton if Mrs Rogerson could have more help and he’d shrugged and said she should do as she wished. Another girl was brought from the village and a youth to bring in the wood and clean the boots and to do the heavy work, instead of Jed. And Polly looked brighter for the addition of younger company to talk to, though Annie noticed that she gave herself a few airs and seemed to consider herself a step above the kitchen staff, being nursemaid and companion to Harry.

  The first winter was cold and a thick layer of snow covered the ground and Annie ordered fires in all of the rooms, including the top floor where the two young maids now slept. She allocated a room for Mrs Rogerson too and though she was reluctant at first, she eventually moved up and Jed shifted himself into her old room behind the kitchen.

  There was still no news of Matt though they had an official letter from the Admiralty saying that after due consideration they had decided that he might be released from the service with the navy, though they would be pleased if he would agree to stay.

  As the thaw came she started to ride again on Sorrel, sometimes with Harry who had become very proficient on his little pony, sometimes with her father-in-law and Jed around the estate, and she noticed that he listened more to Jed’s suggestions about ploughing and crop-growing, and agreed that the sheep were not as profitable as they once were.

  ‘We’ve plenty of land, sir,’ Jed said one day as they stood at the top of a valley. The snow was slowly melting and green patches were showing through. ‘We could try a few acres just to see how it worked. There’s men and hosses enough to do it and if we got started soon we could get in a spring crop.’

  Henry Linton grunted and looked down the valley. ‘All right. We’ll do it. Get the men started and I’ll have your hide if it doesn’t work.’

  Jed grinned and tightened the reins of his mount. ‘Aye sir, I’ll go right away and get them set on,’ and Annie gave him a smile at his look of triumph as he rode away.

  But, often, as the spring slowly began, as the smell of new grass and chalkland flora, the bleat of young l
ambs and the peewit call of the lapwing opened up an impelling instinct in her, she took off her boots or shoes and put on an old dress and her gold-lined cloak, and rode barefoot and bareback to the edge of Staveley Park land and gazed down. She narrowed her eyes and looked down, down into the steep-sided valleys, beyond the dips and curves of the narrow roads and tracks, on past the farms and copses which surrounded them, towards the villages of North and South Cave and beyond them to the ribbon of glinting water which was the river.

  Her river. The Humber. The vast estuary which ran to the sea, the sea which carried the ships where Matt might be. And then she remembered her dream. The dream of the ship with sails blazing, and of Toby and Matt and Harry holding hands together and smiling at her. And she would turn away, sobs shaking her body, and ride back, back to the great house of Staveley Park to Henry Linton and Harry, who were waiting for her there and she would know that it wasn’t enough, that she was still very much alone.

  * * *

  There came one night when she couldn’t sleep, when she tossed restlessly in her bed and then got up and went into Matt’s room and laid wide-eyed on his bed. Dawn was still an hour away and she could hear the lonely call of an owl and an answer from its mate.

  She went to the window and looked out. The garden was streaked by moonlight – the trees touched by its silver were sending long shadows across the grass, and the rosebeds in the lawn were deep, pitch dark pools. She gazed out, her arms clasped about her and knew that sleep had finally deserted her.

  Quickly she dressed. She put on a warm dress and a shawl and over that her old cloak and padded silently downstairs. The door of the inner hall creaked as she gently eased back the bolt and opened it, and then again the outer heavy wooden doors slowly opened to let in the cool air. She closed the door behind her and sped away, feeling the sharpness of the gravel on her feet as she ran to the stables.

  There was no sound from the hayloft where Kent, the groom, or Jennings the new youth, had their beds, and stroking Sorrel gently to soothe him she led him outside. She mounted him on the grass in the paddock so that no-one would hear them as they cantered away and she set off once more to the head of the valley where she could watch the dawn break over the Humber.

  She tied Sorrel to a tree and with her heavy cloak wrapped around her she sat on the edge of a bank at the top of a hill and waited. The dimness of the mystical time which hangs between night and day, hovered over her like a dark cloud, enveloping her in its shroud. Then the darkness began to disperse, bedewing her with moist grey vapour. Droplets of water gathered about her face and hair but, as the sun rose and the warmth increased, dried on her skin making her feel as if she had freshly bathed.

  The light rose like a curtain in the east, opening to bring forth a natal dawn. A dawn of such dazzling splendour it almost took her breath away. A flush of rose, a glory of gold, a light of a million candles lit the sky to herald a new day, and with it a fresh hope that today might be the day when she would hear that Matt was safe.

  She saw then the glint of the river as the light in the sky mirrored on the water. She gazed in wonder. This wasn’t her river; not the deep muddy waters that she knew so well, not the rushing river of childhood nor the eddying vortex of hidden secrets and fears. And although she couldn’t see its movement from this great distance, she knew that this was a cleansing, flowing, springtime flood with an irridescent rainbow staining its opal surface.

  She rose to her feet and let her eyes follow its course until the curve of the land hid it from her view, then she rove back again to its glistening centre and once more into the awakening valley. A horse and plough were moving infinitesimally slowly, so it seemed, across a dark field; a flock of geese calling intermittently flew across the valley, and a kestrel hung suspended above her, while from the copses and woods came the waking cry of a thousand birds.

  How awesome it is, she wondered. A new beginning. I’ve never seen the day begin so, even though I’ve seen many dawns. She stood a moment longer unable to take her eyes from the panorama in front of her. This has to be an omen for something very special. She felt within her a renewed hope, a bright and fervent expectation.

  She stretched her arms to the sky and remembered that other time when she had done the same, down by the river in Hessle, and Matt had appeared. She smiled sadly; such dreams, Annie – yet life would be nothing without them – and cast her eyes nearer. The track from the lower village was clearer now, the chalk surface was bright in the clear morning light and showed the dark figure of a horseman riding towards her.

  He must have set out in the middle of the night from somewhere, she mused as she watched. The horse was a bay she saw as they came nearer, the man of upright bearing in white breeches and dark coat with high white stock and cocked hat. She put her hand to her forehead. He was wearing a sword and the lapels of his coat were white like the sea officers wore.

  She became breathless as her pulses raced. Could it be? It had to be. Please God, let it be him. She picked up her skirts and ran down the hill and stopped again to take another look. She couldn’t see his face for the shadow of his headwear, yet there was something, some shape of his shoulders, the tilt of his head. It was!

  ‘Ma – a – tt.’ She stretched out his name in an imploring syllabic note which echoed down the dale. He looked up and around and she realized that he couldn’t see her, that she was in shadow with the hill behind her. She took off her cloak and turned it inside out and waved it and called again.

  It was him! It was him! He saw her and she heard his cry as he urged on his mount and galloped towards her, and she ran, crying and stumbling over the grassy hummocks, jumping ditches and crevices to reach the chalk road.

  He flung himself off his horse and ran the last few yards towards her, his arms outstretched to catch her as she flew down the hill to be held close and safe and loved.

  42

  ‘I can’t believe that you are here, after all this time. I must be dreaming again.’

  Matt kissed her lips again and again. ‘I’m here,’ he whispered. ‘Though it seems like a dream to me too. And yet it’s as if we have never been apart. You look just the same – your hair hanging down your back – your feet bare. You’re just as I have imagined you to be every time I’ve thought of you.’

  She laughed and rolled over in the grass to hold him close again. ‘What a blessing I came out here to watch the dawn. You might have arrived back at the house and not known me dressed in my finery!’

  The sun was warm on them as they lay on the hillside. The smell of the disturbed grass was rich and fragrant and the tracery of new leaves on the tree branches above them etched a dappled pattern across their faces.

  ‘You haven’t become a lady, Annie? Don’t tell me that father has been trying to convert you?’

  ‘I told him that he would be wasting his time. I can’t change. I am what I am, though I do try. I don’t want to embarrass him in front of his friends – or yours,’ she added anxiously. ‘I don’t want you to be ashamed of me.’

  ‘I’d never be that.’ He got up and pulled her to her feet and held her close. ‘Never. Those who want my friendship must accept me for what I am, and my wife.’

  He reached for his shirt which was lying on the grass and she saw his weather-brown back and the scars running across it. She touched his back gently and he flinched. ‘What are these, Matt? Who did this?’

  ‘Practically every seaman has a scar to show for his life at sea!’ He shrugged off her questions as he tucked his shirt into his breeches.

  ‘Tell me!’

  He looked down the peaceful green valley towards the direction of the Humber. ‘It started when we were put in the tender at the quayside. There must have been a hundred men, maybe more, packed into that stinking hell hole. There was a grating across the hold and it was padlocked, and some of the men had been there for days. We couldn’t see daylight, there was no air and no room to exercise. So I complained! Loud and long, and then others did too, and
I was brought out and accused of causing an affray and endangering the ship.’

  She saw a sudden anger on his face. ‘Me!’ His voice was harsh and bitter. ‘Endangering the ship! When I only ever took true seamen on the Breeze, and here were these men telling me! Men who had hardly ever tasted water, let alone sailed on it!’

  ‘Ssh.’ Gently she calmed him.

  ‘Twelve strokes of the cat!’ He grimaced. ‘I could have borne the pain, but the injustice will always rankle.’

  They started to walk up the hill to collect the grazing horses. ‘And of course my reputation preceded me. I was marked down as a trouble-maker. It seemed that everything that went wrong on that first voyage was of my doing, and if I objected, which I usually did, I was given the lash. I would have jumped ship if I could but I was confined to the hold whenever we were in port.’

  His face suddenly brightened. ‘Then I was transferred to another man-o’-war, the Glory, and found my old friend Greg Sheppard in command. He’d volunteered and been given a commission. I persuaded him to apply for Parson White to be transferred and then the three of us took an oath that we’d fight the French and their allies instead of our own navy, and we’d scuttle old Boney’s ships.’

  ‘I used to dream,’ Annie said slowly. ‘I dreamt that you were on board a burning ship and that Harry and Toby were with you. I was so frightened.’

  ‘The ship did burn. On this last voyage we ran into a major sea battle, which made all the others seem like skirmishes. The British ships were surrounded by the big French gunships and we sailed up right behind them. They must have felt like bears with a snapping dog at their heels, but our gunner crew were magnificent and raked several of the French ships. Then it seemed as if all hell broke loose, even the sea and the sky seemed to be alight, and we were hit several times.’