Sing As We Go
Page 38
‘You! What on earth do you want?’
Kathy sat down in the armchair. ‘I’ve come to see you. We’ve come to see you.’
Beatrice caught her breath. ‘Anthony? Anthony’s here?’
Kathy nodded.
The woman put her hand over her eyes in a dramatic gesture. ‘I don’t want to see him,’ she wailed. ‘I can’t.’
‘All right. You don’t have to. But wouldn’t you like to meet your grandson?’
There was a stillness in the room, the only sound the ticking of the bracket clock, the crackling of the logs on the fire.
Slowly, her hand dropped away from her eyes and she stared at Kathy. ‘My – my grandson?’
‘Yes, he’s called James and he’ll be three in November.’
‘You mean – you mean he’s illegitimate?’
‘No. Because we’re married and as I understand it, even if a child is born out of wedlock, when the parents marry the child is legitimized.’
‘You’re married?’ Beatrice almost spat out the question.
‘Oh, yes,’ Kathy said airily. ‘We’re married.’
Beatrice pulled herself up and thrust her face towards Kathy.
‘When?’ she demanded.
‘Six weeks ago.’
‘Six weeks?’ Beatrice’s mouth twisted. ‘Then how do I know it’s really Tony’s child? It could be anybody’s.’
Anger surged in Kathy’s breast. Resentment and bitterness towards this woman welled up inside her. Beatrice hadn’t changed. Not one bit, but Kathy bit back the sharp retort and with a serenity that surprised her, she said, ‘Oh, I can assure you that he’s Tony’s son. You’ll soon see for yourself.’
There were conflicting emotions flitting across the woman’s face as she struggled to come to a decision.
‘Bring him in,’ she muttered at last. ‘Just the child. Not – not Tony.’
‘Oh no,’ Kathy said firmly. ‘James won’t come without his daddy. It’s both – or nothing.’
The two women stared at each other in a battle of wills. It was Beatrice who was the first to lower her eyes and submit with a brief nod.
Kathy rose and left the room, returning a few moments later. Tony followed her into the room, carrying the little boy. George hovered nervously in the doorway.
Beatrice’s gaze was fixed on the child. Deliberately, it seemed, she avoided looking into her son’s face. She didn’t even greet him. Her whole focus was on the little boy. Tony bent forward and set the little chap in her lap. James looked up into her eyes and reached out to touch her face.
‘Hello, Grannie,’ he said, just as Kathy had taught him.
Tony stepped back to stand beside Kathy. She sought his hand and held it and together they watched. George too, from the doorway, watched. Before their amazed eyes, a change came over Beatrice. They saw it. All of them saw it for themselves, though had they not, not one of them would have believed it if it had been told to them.
The woman’s face softened, seemed to grow younger even. She smiled, and her eyes were alight with a tenderness they had not shown in years.
‘Anthony,’ she breathed. ‘My little Anthony. You’ve come back to me.’ But it was not the grown man standing nearby to whom she spoke. It was the child.
Kathy moved then and knelt beside her. ‘Mrs Kendall, it’s not Anthony, but it is his son. This is your grandchild, but that – ’ she gestured towards Tony – ‘is your son.’
Slowly, with what seemed like a great effort, Beatrice raised her eyes and looked at Tony for the first time. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even turn the injured side of his face away, but met her gaze steadily.
‘Oh – Oh – my – darling – boy,’ she gasped at last and the tears flooded down her face. She held out her arms and, for a moment, the child on her knee was forgotten.
Kathy picked James up and carried him from the room, whispering to George as she passed close to him, ‘I think we’ll leave them together for a while, don’t you?’
George followed her out. In the kitchen he took his grandson into his arms for the first time and held the boy close. In an unsteady voice, he murmured, ‘You really have the most remarkable mother.’ His gaze rested upon Kathy. ‘Thank you,’ he said simply. ‘Thank you for your generosity of heart, lass.’
Kathy smiled and touched her baby’s cheek as she said softly, ‘I can understand her so much better. Now that I know what it’s like to be a mother.’
Sing As We Go
Born in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire, Margaret Dickinson moved to the coast at the age of seven and so began her love for the sea and the Lincolnshire landscape.
Her ambition to be a writer began early and she had her first novel published at the age of twenty-five. This was followed by twenty-one further titles including Plough the Furrow, Sow the Seed and Reap the Harvest, which make up her Fleethaven trilogy. Many of her novels are set in the heart of her home county, but in Tangled Threads and Twisted Strands the stories included not only Lincolnshire but also the framework knitting and lace industries of Nottingham. The Workhouse Museum at Southwell in Nottinghamshire inspired Without Sin, and the beautiful countryside of Derbyshire and the fascinating town of Macclesfield in Cheshire formed the backdrop for the story of Pauper’s Gold. Wish Me Luck returned to Lincolnshire once more and the county is also the setting for Sing As We Go.
www.margaret-dickinson.co.uk
ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON
Plough the Furrow
Sow the Seed
Reap the Harvest
The Miller’s Daughter
Chaff upon the Wind
The Fisher Lass
The Tulip Girl
The River Folk
Tangled Threads
Twisted Strands
Red Sky in the Morning
Without Sin
Pauper’s Gold
Wish Me Luck
For my grandson, Zachary John
‘When I saw thee, I gave my heart away.’
Longfellow
ACKNOWLEDEGMENTS
My grateful thanks to the staff of Lincoln Central Library and of Skegness Library for helping so much with all my research, and to Brian and Jean Gabbitass for the photo of Brian’s father, James, who served with ENSA during the Second World War.
As always, my love and thanks to Robena and Fred Hill, David and Una Dickinson and Pauline Griggs for reading and commenting on the script, and to all my family and friends for their constant support and encouragement in so many ways.
Thank you to Darley Anderson and everyone at the Agency, and to Imogen Taylor, Trisha Jackson, Liz Cowen and all at Pan Macmillan, for always being there.
First published 2008 by Pan Books
This electronic edition published 2010 by Picador
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
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ISBN 978-0-330-52794-1 PDF
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Copyright © Margaret Dickinson 2008
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