‘Ar, he would’ve knowed,’ Leah nodded, ‘and he would’ve come along of me ’cept he were called to Clara Jeavons not five minutes afore I reached his ’ouse. Clara don’t birth none of her kids easy, last one took nigh on a full day afore it come an’ I reckons this one could be doin’ of the same. That be why I says it’s like to be a few hours of the doctor comin’ here.’
Hours! Ann lowered the hand she was holding back on to the bed. Hours in which Alec could grow worse.
‘Leave me with the lad, I’ll do what need be.’
Ann looked at the boy who had come to mean so much to her, then rising to her feet turned to the woman who had befriended them both.
‘No.’ She smiled palely. ‘We will do it together.’
She had glanced at the clock, told herself the time then fetched the bowl from the hearth! Inside of herself Leah felt the strong pull of pity. The wench thought to carry on with the dressin’ of the lad’s leg, her thought him to be still living.
A soft sound from the bed arrested the thought. Leah glanced at the slight figure, at the eyes opening, at the smile touching the mouth. Her own eyes reflected relief as she scolded herself internally. You be a daft old fool Leah Marshall, a daft old fool to go a thinkin’ as you did.
Ann heard Leah sigh and looked up from the bowl she had uncovered.
‘Alec, is . . . is he? Have I done something wrong?’
‘No wench.’ Leah smiled, placing a light hand to the boy’s brow. ‘You’ve done all the way as should be, the fever be broke, though there’ll be need of poultice and mixture for a while longer.’
‘You’ve done all the way as should be . . .’
Wanting to cry, wanting to smile, not knowing which emotion was the stronger, Ann carried the bowl across to the tiny table beside the bed.
‘I thought maybe you would be needing a bit of help so I’ve seen to the girls and let them out to play.’
‘A man’s hands a touchin’ of ’em will have that lot frisky for days . . . mind you,’ Leah looked at the man sitting at the table of her small living room, ‘I can’t go a blamin’ of them for that, nor do I reckon there be a wench in Wednesbury wouldn’t feel the same should it be Edward Langley come a courtin’.’
‘Shame on that frivolous tongue.’ Edward smothered the laugh gathering in his throat. ‘Shame . . . and you knowing the only girl I would go a courting is yourself!’
Leah spooned porridge into a dish with a decided plop then returned the pot to the trivet drawn alongside the fire.
‘I’ll thank you not to let my girls go hearin’ you sayin’ of such.’ She fetched a jug of cream from the scullery and placed it on the table. ‘They gets fierce jealous and when that ’appens they gives less milk.’
‘In that case I will just have to go on hiding my feelings, at least until you get new girls.’
‘Ar, you do that.’ Leah laughed, scalding a fresh pot of tea, adding as she poured it into stout earthenware mugs, ‘It were good of you, lad, doin’ of the milkin’ and seein’ my cows into the field; I heard them callin’ but couldn’t see to them until I’d seen to the lad.’
Edward looked up from stirring sugar into his cup. ‘How is he? Is there anything I can do?’
Leah declined his offer and relayed the happenings of the night finishing with, ‘I give no thought to the wench mebbe havin’ no truck with the usin’ of herbs, of her p’raps never seein’ the usin’, it were daft of me to go leavin’ of her to treat the boy, I should’ve known the risk.’
‘You knew the risk of her taking a wrong turn in the darkness, the harm that might come were the doctor delayed; you trusted her to carry out your instruction. That was the wisest path to take, and as you say no harm has come of it.’
When he saw the young woman entering the room from the staircase the words resounded in Edward’s mind. Her care of the boy, her watching through the long hours of night, her refusal even now to rest had made her features pale and drawn and though she might not realise it the hands holding the large enamelled bowl shook with what could only be fatigue.
‘Alec is sleeping . . .’ Catching sight of Edward seated at the table Ann paused then with a fleeting smile said quickly, ‘I did not thank you yesterday Mr Langley for coming to look for me, it was most ill-mannered.’
Edward returned the brief smile. ‘Fear be a chaser of manners, as for thanks they are not needed.’
‘You may not feel the need of them, Mr Langley, but I need to express them both for myself and for everything Leah tells you did for Alec. I am sure when he sees you he will thank you for himself; I hope you will visit soon.’ Suddenly conscious of the personal nature of the invitation Ann’s cheeks flared with a rush of colour. Her next words she stammered confusedly. ‘I . . . that is we . . . with Leah’s consent . . . I’m certain Alec would appreciate your calling to see him.’
Alec would appreciate? Or was that rather Ann Spencer would appreciate? As Ann disappeared hurriedly into the scullery Leah took a fresh apron from a drawer of the dresser, exchanging it for that she had worn in the sickroom. Next she wrapped a square of white cloth about her head, tucking a straying strand of grey hair firmly beneath it.
‘Lad be washed and sleepin’.’ She glanced at the clock, now back in its familiar place on the mantelshelf. ‘I reckons there’ll be time for me to get that milk into the butter churn afore I needs set fresh dressin’ to his leg.’
Emerging at that moment from the scullery Ann put in quickly, ‘I can do that, please, you need to rest.’
‘Ar wench we both does but . . .’
Sounds from the yard caught everyone’s attention. Edward rose from the table.
‘That will be the doctor,’ his glance met that of Leah, ‘I reckon he will want to know what has been used to treat Alec. Perhaps Miss Spencer would rather you explained all that.’
Ann’s quick agreement coincided with the short sharp rap to the street door. Leah nodded, saying over her shoulder as she crossed into the parlour to admit the man waiting on the pavement, ‘Them milk pails be heavy, you waits ’til I can be there to help with the liftin’ of ’em.’
‘The yard can be mucky what with fetching the cows in and out,’ Edward explained. ‘Wouldn’t be wanting him carrying mud to the next place he might need to call; this town spreads enough soot and dirt on folks’ houses without the adding of a bit more, apart from which,’ he smiled, ‘bringing him through the parlour gives Leah chance to show off her pride and joy.’
‘Shh!’ Ann glanced at the couple re-entering the small living room. A tall slightly stooped figure dressed in black swallowtail coat, grey pinstripe trousers and top hat carrying a somewhat battered Gladstone bag followed Leah to the door giving on to the stairs. Returning the man’s quiet ‘good morning’ she turned to see Edward had already left.
Standing alone Ann experienced a surge of disappointment, an emotion she knew she had no right to feel. Edward Langley had come to this house to help Leah, to speak only with her. With Leah gone from the room it held no more interest for him.
She helped herself to an apron and headsquare, as Leah had done, then went out to the dairy.
‘I did this with Daniel and Joshua when we were kids.’
Edward’s words as she entered the low-roofed whitewashed building, said without a glance in her direction, made the feeling of rejection rise again in Ann.
‘We would compete for who lifted the most pails, the loser being landed with the job of turning the handle of the butter churn, Joshua . . .’
He paused and it seemed to Ann he looked past her, that his smile was directed at someone else.
‘Joshua.’ He laughed softly. ‘You were so determined it wouldn’t be you turning that handle, but Daniel knew your tricks.’
A squawk of hens quarrelling in their pen dispelled the moment. He lifted a brass-bound pail, emptying the still warm milk into a setting dish.
He had talked not from friendship but because he felt he ought to, that it was the well-manne
red thing to do. Ann placed fresh muslin in the several large sieves ready to receive the curd Leah had left to set overnight, then glanced at the figure lifting pails like they were paper cups. Edward Langley had gone out of his way to help with Alec just as now he had left his own farm to come and help Leah by milking her cows. But pouring that milk into the setting dishes was taking advantage of good nature, it was work that should be done by her. She must thank him yet say firmly she could manage alone. How to do that without seeming ungrateful or impolite? He could think himself unwanted here, but that wasn’t true, she wanted . . .
Once the last pail had been emptied Edward glanced up, the flick of a frown drawing his brows together as he saw the flush of pink colouring Ann’s cheeks.
‘Leave that!’ he said abruptly, ‘you need rest as much as does Leah; there is nothing here I can’t do.’
He had mistaken the rise of colour to be a sign of tiredness. Thankful for the misunderstanding Ann hid her relief behind a shake of the head, saying quietly, ‘I am sure there is not, Leah has told me of some of the antics you and her sons got up to while professing to help; but you need to be returning to Hill Rise and your own animals. I thank you for all you have done but truly, Mr Langley, I can cope with the rest.’
He had collected the empty pails and without a word carried them across the yard to the scullery. Ann felt a stab of conscience. He had taken what she had said to be a rejection.
I didn’t mean for it to imply you are not wanted! Ann gathered the soaked curd, breaking it before spreading it in the sieves she had prepared, then gathering the corners of the muslin tied them securely together. When she reached for the board used to press the semi-solid mass she was start-led by it being taken sharply from her grasp.
‘Antics might be the way Leah described to you . . .’ Edward Langley was already lifting the heavy weights on to the wooden board, ‘. . . but “useful as a clock with a limp tick and no hands” was the way she would say it to us, though it came rather more strongly the day a whole pail full of milk was spilled. Joshua was so set on not being the one to do the churning he didn’t quite empty his pails. Daniel, seeing what he was up to, collected the leavings into one pail, then when Joshua claimed he was finished pouring before us showed him the amount he had “inadvertently” left in the several pails. This of course led to a rumpus, the three of us laughing and rolling on the floor; laughing that is until Leah arrived. It was those few seconds of her saying nothing, of her staring at the milk spreading across the floor from the knocked-over pail scared us most. We didn’t know what to expect, then when she grabbed a butter pat . . .’ he paused to smile, then went on ‘. . . she held it like the sword of an avenging angel saying, “The good Lord has given me the knowin’ of the curin’ of many an ailment but naught as’ll put sense where there be none, so I be goin’ to try a remedy of my own, one which you noggin’ ’eads deserves . . . a good belloilin’ wi’ this here pat!” ’
He fetched an empty bucket in place of that half-filled with whey. ‘That was one time Leah did not live up to her word, we neither of us got the threatened spanking,’ he chuckled.
It had felt almost like sharing memories with a friend. Ann smiled, a smile which died at Edward Langley’s call from the yard.
‘I’ll just feed this to the pig then I’ll give you a hand with putting deliveries on to the cart.’
Chapter 13
‘There is nothing more I can tell you,’ Ann answered the doctor. ‘I have no knowledge of Alec’s family; as I explained, we met during some unrest in St Petersburg.’
‘That was where the boy experienced the same illness?’
Ann shook her head. ‘No. It was several hours later. We had been put ashore. The wind had whipped the water, showering us with spray. I thought that had caused Alec to catch cold and that was why he was feverish.’
As he took the hat and gloves Leah held out to him the doctor glanced at Ann. ‘I see . . . and was your supposition confirmed by medical examination?’
‘A man did come but I . . . I could not understand what was said, we could neither of us speak the other’s language.’
‘But you must have understood the treatment, what needed to be done for the boy, the medication prescribed.’
‘No.’ Ann met the statement positively. ‘Alec was cared for by a woman in whose home we stayed. I cannot tell you what she applied to the bruise on his arm and shoulder or the medicine she gave him, but she did time those treatments by the clock as does Leah.’
The doctor’s tired face showed a brief smile as he turned to Leah. ‘Obviously a woman with your skills; the boy has much to be grateful for.’
‘We be beholden for your comin’ right on after bein’ to deliverin’ Clara Jeavons, her and her new babbies be all right?’
Taking up the black medical bag, nodding once in Ann’s direction, the doctor preceded Leah through the parlour to the street door. ‘Mother and twins all well, as that boy will be thanks to you, Leah. It is your hand has saved him. I could have prescribed lotion and fever cure but what you would have got from Jackson the Chemist would contain only the ingredients you are using. Carry on as you have been doing, three more days should see the boy well on the road to recovery, but should you have any worry at all then send for me.’
‘. . . it is your hand has saved him . . .’
The words echoed in Leah’s mind.
Crossing to the gleamingly polished fire grate she touched the framed photograph in pride of place on the mantelshelf.
‘We both knows that don’t be so, Joseph,’ she smiled at the silent face, ‘we both knows there were more than my hand tended that lad. Thank Him for me Joseph, thank the Lord’s Holy Angel for placing his hand over mine.’
She had stood like someone caught in a bad dream. When the evening milking was done Edward loaded the full churns on to the cart.
He had fed the bucket of whey to the pig, thoroughly expecting Ann Spencer to have, if not finished setting butter portions into the trays, at least to have begun the process but instead she had remained as if rooted to that same spot; when he had shaken her arm to free her mind, she had jumped like some startled jackrabbit.
Why? The question had stayed with him much of the morning, a question it seemed had been answered by women taking delivery of cheese and butter.
He had offered to make those deliveries along with his milk round saying he knew Leah’s customers as well as he knew his own but Ann Spencer had shaken her head.
A silent refusal!
A wry smile accompanied the thought. He called to the horse then as the animal moved obediently let his mind return to the scene in the dairy.
She had turned away without so much as a glance, in fact she had barely glanced his way during those few minutes in the house before the arrival of the doctor and the half dozen words spoken in the dairy had been forced.
It could not be clearer if it were painted in letters six foot high. Miss Ann Spencer had no liking for Mr Edward Langley.
But then she had no cause to fear him yet he had caught the tremor of her lips as she turned to the cold store, the shaking of the hands placing the butter and cheese on to the trays, heard the quiver of breath when Leah had come to fetch her back to the living room and accepted his offer with a grateful, ‘Thank yer lad, Ann and me both ’preciates it.’
‘I sees Leah Marshall ’as teken notice . . .’
‘. . . what were said needed the sayin’ . . .’
At almost every house where he had called on behalf of Leah women had made indirect remarks, which it seemed they were not prepared to enlarge upon. So what was it Leah had taken notice of? Was Leah in some kind of trouble which had provoked the suggestion she had put forward on her visit to Hill Rise? He quickly dismissed the notion. Leah Marshall had many characteristics, some of which might not always sit well with women of the town, but no one could challenge the honesty and fairness of her dealings, he least of all; there would have been nothing untoward in her proposal that h
e take her herd, combine it with his own: unless – he drew a quick sharp breath – unless she was ill, an illness threatening her life! That she would not have mentioned at Hill Rise. ‘Pride keeps a still tongue.’ The saying often used by his father brought a coldness in its wake. Leah’s pride, her very independence, would keep her from revealing any threat to her well-being.
Anxiety made him tighten his fingers on the rein. He urged the horse to a trot. This was one time Mrs Leah Marshall’s pride would not stand in the way.
‘I be sorry for the troublesomeness of it, I knows it’ll cause a bother but ain’t no other way . . .’
Troublesome! Thomas Thorpe smiled to himself. That Ada Clews was no longer able to continue with the twice-weekly cleaning of Chapel House had had the very opposite effect; far from being an inconvenience it had become a veritable pleasure.
‘. . . the extra hours I be called to do in the factory don’t leave no time ’ardly for anythin’ else. I don’t be sayin’ it be the fault of them works managers, be none to blame ’ceptin’ the Germans and their Kaiser; I knows what I’d be a sayin’ to that one was I to meet ’im . . .’
Me too Ada. I would say thank you for the recreation your war has afforded Thomas Thorpe.
‘. . . I feels bad about lettin’ you down . . .’
The woman’s apology sang in his head.
‘. . . and wi’ things bein’ the way they am, I means wi’ every woman bein’ in the same boat as meself so to speak, well it ain’t goin’ to be no simple matter findin’ one wi’ time enough to spare for the cleanin’ of one more ’ouse along of their own.’
It can’t be helped, Mrs Clews, don’t worry about it, I’m certain someone can be found to give a couple of hours a week.
The words had been on his tongue but thanks to some watchful fate they had remained unsaid, Ada Clews running on quickly. ‘. . . so I been a thinkin’, my Sarah be excused them extra hours along of the factory seein’ ’er be a twelve month short yet of seventeen so . . . allus supposin’ it be suitable to y’self . . . then her could tek over the seein’ to Chapel ’Ouse, y’ wouldn’t ’ave no worries as to it bein’ kept proper, Sarah be a good little wench wi’ a mop and a polishin’ rag, ’er can do all I done meself.’
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