To, it didn't happen every day, and she doubted if it would ever happen again, so she allowed herself to be pulled up, and did not resist when he took her hand and drew her towards the bank; and there he sat down. And when his feet splashed the water into spray, hers joined his, and their laughter mingled.
Later, she could not recall how long they sat splashing their feet like two children; she only knew that when they moved away from the pool, he insisted on drying her feet; and during the process they fell into a silence until, as she went to put on her stockings, he said, 'No; leave them be. And let's move into the shade over there; the sun is getting very hot here.' He gathered up his boots and socks and she carried her boots and stockings and the towels, and together they walked into the deep shadow of the copse.
There it was cool and, looking round at the foliage, he said, 'Isn't it beautiful? It's like Arcadia,' and putting out his hand, he now gently stroked her cheek, saying, 'You don't know anything about Arcadia, do you, Jinnie?' and she answered, 'No; it's a new word to me.'
'And you like words. Max says you're always learning new words. What do you get from them, Jinnie?'
She looked down through the cool green light to where their feet were close together and still, and quietly she said, 'The difference in people.'
He stared at her for a moment, the expression on his face puzzled; and then he said, 'Yes. Yes, words make out the difference in people and separate the classes. Is that what you mean?'
She wasn't quite sure about the bit of separating classes, she only knew that how people spoke pointed to how they lived; and yes, she supposed that did put them into different classes.
She did not resist him when he caught hold of her hand and drew himself closer, while murmuring, 'I doubt if we'll ever sit like this again, Jinnie.'
She was gazing into his eyes and he into hers.
'It's only once in a lifetime one touches on wonder and the spell of love. You understand what I mean, Jinnie?'
Yes. Yes, she understood what he meant, but for the life of her she couldn't give him an answer.
'I am to be married very shortly, you know that?'
Still she couldn't answer, but she made the slightest movement with her head and he went on,' I've been torn asunder lately with my feelings: I ... I know I must be married, for everyone's sake, yet I can't get you out of my mind. I've ... I've always had a feeling for you, Jinnie; but recently this has grown and at times has become unbearable when I've seen you and couldn't touch you, couldn't be near you. I had to joke with your two guardians, when all the time I just wanted to talk to you.'
'If you weren't promised in marriage and bound to marry, would you have married me?'
He was so taken aback by the cool question that he dropped her hand for a moment and, sitting back on his knees, stared at her for some seconds before, mumbling, he said, 'Why .. . why, of course, Jinnie. Yes, yes.' Then with more emphasis, 'Yes, of course I would.'
She refused to question the icy dart that pierced her chest during that second of hesitation, his hooded gaze, and then his mumbling ... he who spoke so perfectly.
But in a low and tender voice, she said, 'That's all I wanted to know, because I've always loved you, Richard.
Since the very first moment I saw you I think I've loved you. Yet I've known in my heart it was just like a fairytale, just like this.' But then spreading out her hand, she added quickly, 'No, not like this because this is real; my dreams weren't, and I knew that they never could be. I
... I know you must marry. I've always known it, and I've accepted it, but I just wondered if you hadn't been bound to anyone would you have stooped to me.'
'Stooped to you!' He was now gripping both her hands and pulling her close. 'Jinnie. Jinnie, never say that about yourself. No-one . . . no-one would ever need to stoop to you, you're so beautiful, so attractive in all ways: those dreadful clothes, your ugly boots, all these rough things that you've always worn every time I've seen you, couldn't hide your beauty, or cover your appeal, and wherever I am, whomsoever I'm with, your appeal will stay with me.'
Her hands went up to his face now and cupped it, and her lips trembled as she said, 'That's all I wanted to hear.'
When he drew in a long shuddering breath and put his arms around her she allowed her body to fall against his. Then they were lying on their sides.
When their faces were almost touching she felt him stiffen, and when he said, 'I ... I should go. I must go,' she kept her arms about him and murmured, 'I want something of you to remember, and once you're married you . . . you must never come up here again, for my sake, even if it means breaking your friendship with Bruce. Yes, it would be better all round if you did that.'
'Oh, my dear; you're so wise; yet you're not even seventeen. You've always been much older man your years. Oh, if only things could be different. Oh, Jinnie.
Jinnie. Jinnie.'
When his lips fell on hers, they did not make her feel ecstatically happy, but rather she experienced a feeling of satisfaction, as if something she had waited for and dreamed of had at last come to pass . . .
The sun was spangling the shadows when at last he drew her up from the ground and they held each other, swaying as if slightly intoxicated, as no doubt they both were. Her hair had fallen in a tangled mass on one of his shoulders, her face was rosy, her eyes bright. She brought her head forward and kissed him on the lips and said,
'Till my very dying day I'll remember this morning.'
'As will I, my dear, my dear, dear one. Oh' - he was clasping her to him again - 'you're so lovely and so understanding. That is it, so understanding about this whole tangled matter. I don't think there's another young woman in the world of any class who would see things as you see them.'
There was that stab again to mar the wonder of the past ecstasy ... a mention of class. It was because of class that this would perhaps be the only time in their I lives they would come together.
As his hand stroked her neck yet again she said, 'I
... I must go, really I must. I have chores to see to'
- she had stressed the word chores -- 'and I'm not sure what time they'll be back.'
'Oh yes; they . . . they--' He relinquished his hold on her and, sitting down again on the grass, he quickly pulled on his socks and boots; then turning from her, he straightened his clothes, dusting down his waistcoat, then his coat and trousers. She too had donned her stockings and boots, and when slowly she walked from the copse and into the harsh sunlight he drew her back into the shade, saying, 'Don't come with me; I want to remember you here; always to remember you here.'
He leant forward and once again they embraced, and now she said, 'Goodbye, Richard;' and after a moment's pause, he said,' Goodbye, Jinnie, my dear, dear beloved Jinnie. Goodbye.' Then he turned from her and hurried towards the narrow road that led to the farm.
She stood watching him until he was out of sight; then she returned to the copse and lay down on the ground where they had lain together and where she had given herself wholeheartedly to him; no reticence, no shyness until now, as she recalled what had taken place and wondered if she really was just sixteen. Did all girls feel as she did at this age? How were you supposed to feel at sixteen? Surely not as she was feeling now: like someone full of knowledge, strange knowledge, for she had to ask herself, how had she known how to make love with a man?
With the high winds and cold driving rains, summer seemed but a memory.
Bruce had brought up an extra ton of coal and also a load of wood so that the two fires could be kept on day and night. He found pleasure in being able to buy extra comforts for the house, almost as much, in fact, as when he bought odd things for Jinnie. But he still retained the vivid memory of the disappointment he had experienced the evening he and Max had returned from Newcastle, parcel-ladened.
He had stood by the table urging Jinnie to unwrap the packages, only to be dumbfounded, first by her hesitation, then by her lack of any appreciation as she unveiled the contents of one
parcel after another. And when, finally she lifted up a pair of soft, black-leather shoes, and a cry escaped her, he and Max stood in blank amazement as they watched her fling the shoes along the table, and after them the lovely pink-velvet dress and the green-milton cloth coat with matching felt hat, and all the other bits and pieces of fancy aprons, cotton dresses, and such, before flinging herself round to drop into a chair; and the cries that escaped from her were like those from an animal.
Bruce had taken her by the shoulders and shaken her, crying, 'Stop it! girl. Stop it! What's come over you?' But when the sounds became even louder and more unearthly, Max pushed him roughly aside and his large hand with no light slap went across her face, sending her head wagging, causing Bruce to protest,
'My God! man. No; don't do that; you'll break her neck.'
'Only way, hysthysterical.'
And apparently it was the only way, for her voice stopped its high wailing and dropped into sobbing. She then lay back gasping for air, and when Bruce stood looking down at her, shaking his head and saying, 'Well, that's the last time we'll surprise her like this,' Max said,
'Under-understandable: never had decent rags in her life.'
'Yes; yes, that's it,' Bruce agreed, 'yes, I suppose you are right.'
'We should have thought of that.'
He recalled that she had stayed in bed the following day, lying like someone sick; and in a way she had behaved like someone sick ever since.
Later, she had thanked Bruce for the beautiful clothes and for his kindness to her; but apparently they brought her no real joy, for there remained that same sadness in her, and he was pained by the knowledge that he knew what was causing it.
And now the day had arrived. It was pouring from the heavens and there was a wedding in Hexham Abbey, and her pain was at its height.
Neither Max nor Bruce had mentioned the wedding, nor had they questioned the fact that for months now Richard hadn't put in an appearance at the farm; but then it was known he had again been to France and had returned only a week or so ago. It would seem that all the preparations for the wedding had been left to his family, although Lillian's mother had surprisingly got over her bereavement malaise and was once more visiting, so Mrs Stevens had informed Bruce.
She was a little busybody, was Mrs Stevens, but then busybodies had their uses, for he would have known very little about the goings-on in the villages and thereabouts if it wasn't for her, because on market days he would journey either to Allendale or Hexham simply to sell his goods, returning as quickly as possible. He had never yet accepted an invitation to go and spend some of his hard-earned money in any of the bars.
He wondered if Jinnie knew what was to happen this day. Very likely she did, because she took Mrs Stevens her eggs, and Mrs Stevens would keep her there for long periods because she liked her visitor, who was such a good listener.
Of course, Bruce had been quizzed about his windfall: poor Hal to go like that and to be buried at sea; but then one man's misfortune was another's good luck. It was understood he had picked up Hal's full-pay note, as he hadn't left the half-pay to anyone. He was a mean fellow, was Hal, except when paying for his bodily needs.
But Bruce was another mean one, wasn't he? He had never been known to stand anybody a pint, not even himself, and market days were a thirsty business.
So the gossip had gone on, and today its main subject would undoubtedly be the wedding, for anyone who was anyone in the county would be there.
For the last four nights, after going up to her pallet bed under the roof, Jinnie had sat for an hour on end rocking herself. Her periods had always been regular, so after missing a period, she knew what had happened. She had managed to hide her morning sickness from both men, but the period of hiding would soon be over, for the result of that glorious moment was already in evidence, and there was a fear on her, not about having a child, but about the reactions of both Bruce and Max towards Richard. When Hal had hurt her, Max's reaction had stopped short of killing him, but she dreaded to think what he, and Bruce too, might do to Richard. There was a new pain inside her when she thought of Bruce.
He had been so kind; he was still kind. Each day he seemed to be more thoughtful of her. He never went into Hexham but he brought her back some little item that would add to her pleasure in the house, for he knew that now she was taking a pride in it. But what she feared most from him was his scorn.
She knew through Mrs Stevens that today was the great day; and not before time, she had said, for one obstacle or another had delayed that marriage. Of course, Mrs Stevens had put in slyly, it seemed strange that Bruce had not received an invitation, even if it was only to the Abbey, because they had been such pals, hadn't they? Very strange pals, too, because it wasn't often two different classes met as they had.
Sometimes, Jinnie wondered if she really liked Mrs Stevens.
She heard the scullery door being opened; then the clatter of big boots told her that Max was entering the kitchen. He had to push the door open with his back for his arms were full of logs, and as he passed her on his way to the fire at the far end of the room he said,
'It's s-set in again. Did you ever see such weather?
I hope Bruce didn't go very f-far up there the day; but likely he did because of the f-foot rot. It's only affected two, but it can spread. That smells nice,' he added.
'It's just hot pot and dumplings.'
'D-do me,' he said, moving towards the table, where he watched her mixing some flour and fruit in a bowl, and he asked, 'What's th-that for?'
'A plum-duff.'
' Oh, plum-duff. I love plum-duff. Plenty of currants in it, though.'
'Well, there's plenty of currants in this one,' she said, smiling at him across the table; then she added,
'There's a cup of tea if you'd like it.'
'When d-did I refuse tea, eh?'
She poured him out a mug of tea, and he pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down. As he sipped it he watched as she placed the pudding into a cloth and tied the ends, and quietly he said, 'Don't be sad, Jinnie.'
She blinked her eyes rapidly, pressed her lips together tightly and slowly shook her head before she said, 'What makes you think I'm sad?'
'Well, I know you, don't I? I know you better than you know yourself. Know lots of you . . . about you.'
When she lowered her head and he saw her hands grip the edge of the table, he rose quickly to his feet and went round to her side, murmuring, ' Oh, me dear.
Me dear. Don't cry. I know 'tis a special day for some and a heartbreak d-d-day for others. I know, but l-llook at me.' He thrust a hand under her chin and brought her swimming eyes on to his face as he said, 'One day you'll be happy, very happy. I know. You still a girl, full of fffancy.'
'No, Max,' she interrupted him; but he put in quickly,
'Y-y-yes, Max; and Max is telling you you've g-g-got to grow yet, both in your body and your mind. We live and learn. I learn y-y-years ago over Miss Caplin.'
'Miss Caplin?' Her eyelids blinked now. 'Why Miss Caplin?'
'Huh!' He tossed his large head to the side and again he emitted, 'Huh! You think I not capable of falling in l-llove?'
She wanted to laugh: Max and Miss Caplin? Miss Caplin must be nearly twenty years older than Max.
'When I young boy, all limbs' - he now jerked his arms and legs - 'g-gangly they call it, she was good to me. And she was beautiful. M-m-my love for her was hopeless. She could have been my mmmother, but she was pretty and kind and I l-l-loved her. I still do, although in a different way. I said before, you know, Jinnie, there be all kinds of love. I l-l-love you. Oh yes, I l-l-love you, but in a different way from that which I l-l-love Miss Caplin.'
Slowly now she dusted her hands one against the other over the pastry board; then turning to him, she put her arms around his neck, and she kissed him on the cheek, saying softly, 'And I love you too. You have been my father, as Bruce is my brother.'
'Ho, ho! Oh, yes; I be your father. Could be your fat
her, yes, yes; but Bruce no brother. Oh no, Bruce no brother. Get into your head' - he now stabbed his finger against her brow - 'Bruce is a man, and a good man, but he is n-n-not your brother.' He turned sharply from her, saying, 'There he is now,' and made quickly for the door into the scullery room, while she took up the pudding from the table and dropped it into the pan of water boiling on the hob, before pulling it aside to make room for the kettle; and she was brewing a fresh cup of tea when Bruce entered the kitchen.
His face was red, as were his hands, which he chaffed together as he said, 'I don't know when it's going to stop; it thinks it's winter.'
'You're cold.'
'Frozen. I don't think I have any skin left on my face.'
He rubbed his cheeks, and when he saw her mashing the tea he said, 'Oh, I'll be glad of three pints of that. Next time I go up there I'm taking a can with me. It might only be luke-warm when I get at it, but it'll be something.'
'That's an idea.'
When after a moment he said, 'How d'you feel? How have you been?' she turned sharply and looked at him and asked, 'What d'you mean? I'm the same as when you left this morning.'
'Oh, Jinnie' - he dropped his head - 'let's come into the open. You know what day it is as well as I do. Let's face it: it's over and done with, he's married.
The fairy-tale's finished.'
'Oh you! Don't you start on me, please!'
'Oh.' He moved from the fire to go quickly towards her, saying, 'Oh lass; I didn't want to start on you, I just want you to feel I'm with you. I know how you feel because I know how I feel.'
Her head was bent as she muttered, 'Oh, don't. Don't talk so, not tonight, Bruce, please.'
'All right. All right. Here's your guardian angel coming back. He'll knock my block off if he thinks I've made you cry. Come on. Come on. Smile. Please try. We'll both try, eh?'
But instead of trying she said a strange thing. Looking him squarely in the face she said, 'You're too good to be true, Bruce, you know that? You're too good to be true.'
The Tinker's Girl Page 29
