by Val Wood
‘Nor I,’ he said solemnly. ‘But the – other matter is rather disturbing. Yesterday, after Robin had gone off to school, I was told, and indeed shown, that a neighbour had had a barn fire.’
‘There are often fires in the country,’ she commented nonchalantly and sipped her insipid coffee. ‘Stooks or ricks set alight accidentally by someone’s pipe, or in the summer, if they haven’t been stacked properly, haystacks can fire by internal combustion.’ She gave a little frown. ‘But not usually at this time of year. And in a barn? That’s careless. Someone must have knocked a lamp over. What?’ She saw the concern in his expression. ‘What else?’
‘It was your parents’ barn,’ he said quietly. ‘There had been a fire inside and the roof has caved in.’
‘And?’ She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘What has that to do with me? Something else?’
‘Yes. According to the Robinsons and apparently other villagers too, your parents seem to be missing. There was no one in the cottage, which hasn’t been affected by the fire, by the way.’
She lifted her shoulders again. ‘He’d be out shrimping,’ she said, unconcerned. ‘Shrimping season is about now. No?’
‘No. It seems that his boats are still moored in the creek, but someone else’s boat is missing; and his mule and cart were still tied up. I’m only telling you what I was told, Delia, but the villagers are concerned about both of them and it was suggested by the Robinsons that I might tell you.’
‘I don’t know why anyone else would be concerned,’ she said slowly. ‘They never spoke to anyone unless it was really necessary. I was sent shopping in the village almost from the time I started school, so that my mother didn’t have to. They were barely known.’
‘Well, you know how rumours can fly,’ he remarked. ‘But fishermen are out on the estuary looking for them.’
‘Well, if the worst should happen,’ her voice was cold and devoid of emotion, ‘I suppose someone might remember that the Deakins once had a daughter, but as no one but the Robinsons know where I am they won’t be able to find me, will they? Does that make me sound hard-hearted?’ she asked, looking in his face for a trace of censure, but there was none.
‘To anyone else, perhaps,’ he said mildly. ‘But not to me, and it seems, Miss Delamour, that you have at last left that little girl Dorothy behind you.’
Delia put the news of her missing parents to the back of her mind. She didn’t need to think about them. They had cast her off and she was now doing the same to them. Whatever they had done or where they were had nothing to do with her. She had more important things to think about now: her future with Giles, for one, which on the face of it appeared wildly improbable considering the short time they had known each other; but she was deliriously happy, and was loving the work in the theatre and refused to be distracted by thinking of her parents. Dennis Rogers had seen how organized she was and had decided to take time off before the next show began.
‘You must take a holiday too, Miss Delamour. Take a holiday at Easter. Go and visit that boy of yours,’ he told her, and she said that she would. She had hired a clerk for the ticket office, a Miss Graham, who was so pleased to be offered the position that she practically curtsied to Delia. She would begin the week after Easter when the box office opened for advance bookings of the variety show.
Peggy had sent Delia a letter asking if she would come for the short holiday and said there was news of the Deakins that she should be made aware of. She also said that Mr Dawson would be very welcome and she was hoping that Jenny might be there too.
Delia was curious about Jenny and wondered if Arthur had been to visit, and as the Easter holiday would begin on Thursday hoped that her friend would also travel to Paull to see her family and bring interesting news. Giles had gone to York and on his return the following day called in at the theatre to see her; he told her of his completed house sale, that the money was safely in his bank, and that he had been to his parents’ home to explain his wife’s circumstances, that she was en route to Canada, if not already there, and finally that she had asked him for a divorce which was now in the hands of their lawyers.
‘They were upset, of course,’ he said, ‘but on hearing that Marion was about to produce a child that wasn’t mine they agreed that I must divorce her immediately and said that they wouldn’t stand in my way.’ He gave a sardonic grimace. ‘As if they could! They still regard me as a mere youth unable to make my own decisions. For heaven’s sake,’ he suddenly burst out, ‘I’m thirty-one years old!’
‘Did you tell them of any of your plans?’ she asked cautiously.
‘No, I did not and will not, only what they need to know. And although I had initially thought that I might invite them to our non-wedding celebrations, I have now decided that I won’t, but will take you to meet them afterwards and present you as my wife and Robin as my stepson, and completely shock them.’ And because they were alone, he put his arms round her. ‘Light of my life,’ he said, kissing the tip of her nose, ‘you won’t change your mind, will you? You won’t begin to think that everything is far too complicated and happening far too fast?’
‘Everything is happening too fast,’ she laughed. ‘But not fast enough and I won’t change my mind.’
She wrote back to Peggy telling her that she would be there by late afternoon on Thursday and that Mr Dawson would be pleased to come too, and that he would again stay at one of the hostelries in the village to save them any inconvenience.
‘We must do things properly,’ Giles said to her. ‘We wouldn’t wish to cause the Robinsons any embarrassment, and although they might guess the situation between us I’d like to wait for the confirmation of the citation of divorce before we make any announcement.’
‘I – I didn’t think we’d make an announcement,’ she faltered.
‘Only to family and friends, to confirm our decision,’ he answered. ‘And you’ll want to explain to Robin? I don’t mean make a public announcement, although the divorce will be made public and I don’t want your name involved in that. And …’ He hesitated. ‘Would you like to be known as Mrs Dawson?’ He saw her confusion. ‘It will be an age before it can be official but you can if you want to. It’s harder for a woman to deal with such a situation than a man.’
She thought seriously about it. There seemed to be so much happening, and as they travelled to Hedon on Thursday she said, ‘I’ll explain to Robin, but not immediately, that one day we’ll marry and that you’ll be his stepfather. It might be confusing for him. He doesn’t know that Jack Robinson is his birth father.’
‘All in good time, Delia. Robin doesn’t need to know the details, but here is another dilemma for you to worry over.’ He smiled. ‘I thought that now the York house is sold I would buy a house in Hull; there are some good properties in Pearson Park and in Albion Street, and in Parliament Street too. What do you think? Perhaps we might take a look?’
‘Oh!’ She was astonished. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she might live in such elegant housing.
‘I’ve been making plans for a long time, Delia,’ he explained. ‘Thinking of when I might be free. I’ve often strolled by such houses, but I always held back, for it seemed pointless when there was no one in my life with whom to share it. But now there is.’
He looked out of the window and took hold of her hand and she realized that he too had been hurting, but hiding it so much better than her.
‘Next stop,’ he said. ‘Will your son, soon to be mine, be waiting for us?’
He was, of course; he was waiting in the trap with Peggy and jumped down to greet his mother with a hug and a kiss and eagerly shook hands with Giles. ‘We’re painting eggs,’ he said excitedly, ‘and then we’re going to have an Easter egg hunt.’
‘Oh, ho! Can anyone join?’ Giles asked. ‘I remember painting eggs when I was your age, Robin.’
‘Oh, yes, you can,’ Robin agreed. ‘We’ve got loads of eggs, haven’t we, Granny Peg? Some of them are from someone else’s hens b
ecause they’ve gone away, so we’re looking after them and feeding the goats. Molly’s feeding their mule too because she’s the only one that can go near him. He doesn’t nip her but he nipped through my breeches and I had to run!’
Delia glanced at Peggy, who shrugged and murmured, ‘Somebody had to feed ’em, didn’t they? We need to discuss some matters, Delia.’
Giles moved closer to the trap. ‘Is it essential, Mrs Robinson?’ he murmured.
She nodded. ‘Yes, I think so,’ she said on a breath so that Delia, who was still listening to Robin’s chatter, wouldn’t hear. ‘Identification is proved.’
Delia, Robin and Giles climbed into the trap, and Peggy shook the reins to set off.
‘Has Jenny come?’ Delia asked.
‘No,’ Peggy said abruptly. ‘And no word from her either; not that she needs to say she’s coming, but I would have liked to know.’
As they drove along the Thorngumbald road, Giles commented on the wide evening sky. It had been a dry and bright day and the sky reflected it. Though the sun was setting behind them in the west, great swathes of purple, red and gold were interspersed with the darkening wave-like clouds that passed over them, creating a landscape of images in the sky.
‘Look at that,’ he said, pointing. ‘It looks like the sea or a great river.’
‘Aye,’ Peggy answered. ‘It’s as if ’world has turned upside down and ’estuary is above us. There’s nothing like a Holderness sky for drama and spectacle,’ she said complacently, and even though she had never once stirred from her home county she added, ‘Nothing in ’world to touch it.’
‘Sometimes you can see castles and turrets and ships,’ Robin stretched his neck back to look up. ‘I’m going to make up a story about them.’
As they reached Thorngumbald and neared their turning, Peggy pointed ahead to where a carriage was bearing in the same direction. ‘Look there,’ she said. ‘Who round here can afford a carriage like that?’
Giles turned his head to grin at Delia, who smiled back. ‘Looks as if you might be having more company, Mrs Robinson,’ he commented.
Robin stood up to look. ‘I know who it is,’ he said excitedly, and his mother put her finger to her lips to silence him. He clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes bright with laughter.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
‘I knew that if I told you I was bringing someone home you’d clean the house from top to bottom, Ma.’ Jenny kissed her mother on the cheek when they arrived in the trap. ‘And there was no need. The house is perfect and Arthur must accept me, us, just as we are.’
‘Arthur? But – who is he?’ Peggy’s bewildered gaze cut across the yard to where Aaron was standing by the fence in his baggy old cords with his arms folded across his chest, talking to a man in a top hat with his well-coated back to them as he gazed towards the estuary.
‘He’s a great friend of Delia’s,’ Jenny smiled at her friend, ‘so that is a very high recommendation, and …’ She paused for effect. ‘He’s the man I’m going to marry.’
Peggy put both hands over her mouth and looked at her daughter. ‘But we don’t know him. He’s a toff! Look at his clothes, look at his carriage.’
‘I know.’ Jenny sighed ruefully. ‘But it can’t be helped. You’ll get used to the idea. And by the way, he lives in a huge manor house with servants.’
Then she laughed as she saw Robin race across the yard towards the two men, calling, ‘Mr Arthur Crawshaw!’
‘You see,’ she said. ‘Robin has no difficulty with his status.’
Giles folded his arms across his chest and turning to Delia said wryly, ‘Why do I feel that my nose has been pushed completely out of joint?’
‘Is this ’great speaker that we’ve been hearing about?’ Peggy also turned towards Delia. ‘The one who quotes Shakespeare?’ and at Delia’s merry nod she said, ‘I thought he was a made up person, someone out of Robin’s imagination! Well,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’d better go inside and get myself ready to greet him, but as for you marrying him, Jenny, I don’t know about that!’
‘I think you’ll find, Ma’ – Jenny laughed – ‘that although there wasn’t any necessity, Arthur has already spoken to my father.’
Later, after Arthur had been introduced to Peggy and remarked that now he knew where Jenny’s glorious hair had come from, had shaken hands with Giles and kissed Delia on her cheek and said how radiant she looked, he sent his driver to book rooms at one of the pubs in the village, telling him to get himself a meal and return at nine o’clock to collect him. Arthur and Giles, clad in an assortment of rubber boots and old coats, then went out with Aaron, Robin and an uncommunicative Jack to look over the farm. There were new spring lambs still undercover that Robin wanted to show them; young piglets still suckling and weaners who had been separated from their mothers who were snuffling about out on grass, and land that was showing new spring growth.
‘I’m pleased that you could come, Delia,’ Peggy said, whilst Jenny made them another pot of tea. ‘I want to talk to you later and I know it will be a difficult matter for you to discuss, but it must be done.’
Jenny came in carrying a tray of tea and cake. ‘I found this cake in a tin, Ma,’ she said. ‘Is it all right that I’ve cut into it?’
‘Of course it is, but don’t eat too much as I’m cooking lamb. It’s ready to put in ’oven, but I might need to do more vegetables,’ she said meaningfully, still reeling from the sight of the unexpected visitor.
‘There will be enough,’ Jenny said pragmatically, and poured them each a cup of tea. ‘You always do more than we need. Incidentally, we have to return tomorrow morning as we’re travelling to Derbyshire. Delia,’ she changed the subject, ‘you and Giles both look very happy. Is there a reason?’
‘We are happy,’ Delia said contentedly. ‘And we weren’t going to say anything yet, but Giles has filed for divorce and although it might be a while before he’s free, he’s asked me to marry him and I’ve said yes!’
‘Good heavens! How long have you known each other?’ Peggy asked. ‘And as for you, Jenny, you haven’t known Mr Crawshaw more than five minutes! What’s the rush?’ Then she gave a gasp and looked at them both. ‘There isn’t one, is there?’
Delia and Jenny both laughed and shook their heads. ‘I didn’t think it would ever happen to me, Peggy,’ Delia said wistfully, and Jenny responded by saying, ‘And I decided to catch Arthur before he had the chance to change his mind! And, Ma, you forget that you once told me that you fell in love with Da the first time you met him and were married before you reached eighteen.’
Peggy nodded. ‘It’s true, I did. We were both young but I was determined to have him.’
‘Well there you are then,’ Jenny said. ‘I’m following in your footsteps, but I’m not eighteen so why would I wait?’
Supper was a jolly affair and all the girls came along with Susan to be introduced by Robin to Mr Arthur Crawshaw, whom they hadn’t believed to be real either, just as their grandmother hadn’t. They didn’t stay to eat but were coming for lunch the next day.
On the stroke of nine, Arthur’s driver returned and Giles was offered a lift back to the village, where he and Arthur retired to the best room in the Humber Tavern and consumed several glasses of whisky, discovering that they knew many of the same theatrical people; they then discussed various aspects of marriage, of which Crawshaw knew nothing. It was then that Giles finally appreciated that his companion had never had any romantic notions towards Delia, and had regarded her as someone who was badly in need of a good and reliable friend. ‘I was there at the right time, old chap,’ he said. ‘She was pretty desperate, poor girl.’
Peggy and Delia were the last to go to bed. Delia was sharing Robin’s room but wasn’t tired and she’d hung back, helping Peggy to put dishes away, preparing the breakfast table and ignoring Peggy’s entreaties that she would see to everything. Finally, she sat down by the banked-up fire and said, ‘What was it in particular that you thought we should discuss, Pe
ggy?’
‘Oh, not tonight, honey,’ Peggy said. ‘Tomorrow, mebbe, when Jenny and Mr Crawshaw have left. I want you to have a pleasant weekend.’
‘We are having a lovely weekend,’ Delia told her. ‘And we don’t have to rush back. The theatre is closed for the holiday. But I won’t sleep tonight unless you tell me what it is we need to discuss. It’s about my parents, isn’t it? Have they been found?’
Peggy sat down opposite her and took off her cap. Pulling the pins out of her hair, she ran her fingers through it so that her curls fell on to her shoulders.
‘You’re lovely, Peggy.’ Delia smiled at her and her eyes prickled. ‘You’ve no idea how much I used to wish that you were my mother. I always wanted to call you Ma, like Jenny.’
Peggy leaned forward and grasped her hands. ‘You can, m’darling. I’d like you to.’
Delia swallowed and nodded. ‘Have they been found?’ she repeated.
‘Mrs Deakin has.’ Peggy carefully avoided calling her Delia’s mother; neither did she mention that Giles already knew, for she guessed that he had had his own reasons for not telling Delia. ‘She’s been identified by several people, including Aaron. She was found on a sandbank somewhere near Sunk Island, but there’s no news of Deakin or of ’fishing boat he took that wasn’t his.’
Delia shook her head. ‘I don’t understand why he would take anyone else’s boat. He was so very particular about his own.’
‘Could your mother sail?’ Peggy asked.
‘She did when she was a girl. Her father had been a fisherman and had taught her to sail when she was very young.’ Suddenly she recalled the day when she had caught her mother gazing out at the shrimpers’ sailboats on the estuary and in a moment of rare conversation had told her that she and Deakin had sailed there from the Devon coast. ‘She told me that she’d helped to sail the boat here from Brixham,’ she continued. ‘But never in my life did I hear her mention Paull creek or the boats and she never again talked of sailing.’
‘Mmm. I wonder why they left their own harbour?’ Peggy probed, but Delia didn’t know. She knew nothing of their past, and, she thought, she didn’t want to; they were strangers to her now as much as they had been when she was a child and a young woman.
