The Girl With No Name

by Diney Costeloe

  Mrs Prynne looked at the bundles and said, ‘That’s a bit cheeky! Sixpence for wood we could go and collect ourselves for free.’

  The vicar, overhearing, smiled and remarked, ‘Ah but you didn’t, you see, and this is for such a good cause!’ He beamed at the red-faced Mrs Prynne and moved on round the room, leaving her to buy a bundle out of shame and to get himself a raffle ticket for a chance to win the Christmas cake made by the Mothers’ Union.

  ‘We pooled all our butter and sugar ration,’ Janet Tewson told him proudly. ‘They say it won’t be long before they ration eggs as well.’ She grinned at him. ‘Not that you’ll be short, what with those hens scratching about your garden, vicar.’

  ‘I’m sure we can always swap some eggs for a jar or two of your delicious honey, Mrs Tewson,’ the vicar said.

  ‘Do you think my mother would like these?’

  Charlotte turned round to find Billy Shepherd standing beside her at the fancywork stall. He was holding up two of the hankies that Charlotte had hemmed herself.

  ‘I expect she would,’ said Charlotte, adding with a smile, ‘Hankies are always useful and I made those.’

  ‘You did?’ Billy peered at them. ‘I thought they were shop ones! The thing is, I saw some with initials in the corner, you know, done in coloured thread, but it looks as if they’ve all gone.’

  ‘I can put initials on the corner if you like?’ Charlotte offered. She had seen Billy around the village from time to time and they’d exchanged smiles, but he hadn’t spoken to her since the day of the welcome party. He wasn’t at school any more, he’d left to help his father on the farm, but she’d not forgotten how much trouble he’d taken to make little Val enjoy the races that day and she wanted to do something for him in return.

  ‘Really?’ Billy sounded impressed. ‘Could you?’

  ‘If you buy them now, I’ll take them home and embroider them so they’re really special. What’s her name?’

  ‘Margaret,’ he replied, ‘Margaret Shepherd. Can you do the M and the S?’

  ‘Yes, if you like,’ answered Charlotte.

  ‘Hmm, but I can’t afford much extra... for the M and S, you know?’

  Charlotte burst out laughing. ‘I’m not asking you to pay me,’ she cried. ‘I’ll do it for you because... it’s Christmas.’

  ‘You’re on!’ Billy handed over the money for the hankies and then gave them to Charlotte, who put them in her pocket. ‘I’ll do them tonight, or tomorrow,’ she promised. ‘What colour would you like?’

  Billy thought for a moment. ‘Think her favourite colour is green,’ he said. ‘Have you got green?’

  ‘I expect so, I’ll do my best.’

  Good as her word, Charlotte found some pale green cotton in Miss Edie’s workbox and carefully worked the initials M and S, intertwined, in the corner of each hankie. Miss Edie watched with interest as, working without a pattern, Charlotte embroidered the initials.

  ‘You sew very well, Charlotte,’ she said. ‘You must have been well taught.’

  ‘I like sewing,’ Charlotte said. ‘I always have.’

  As each of them realised what she had said, they smiled. Another tiny piece of the jigsaw of her life was turned face up.

  Billy was delighted with the embroidered hankies. He called at Blackdown House next time he was in the village to collect them. Charlotte had washed and ironed them again, so that there were no marks or creases from her sewing.

  ‘That’s lovely,’ Billy said. ‘My mum’ll be dead pleased.’ He stood awkwardly in the kitchen for a moment and then said in a rush, ‘Would you like to come out to the farm one day and see the animals? Our dog, Maisie, had pups a couple of weeks ago. You’d like to see those, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Can I?’ Charlotte turned pleading eyes on Miss Edie. ‘Can I go?’

  Miss Edie smiled. ‘I expect so, in the Christmas holidays.’ She turned to Billy and said, firmly, ‘You’ll have to come and fetch her and bring her home. I’m not having her wandering about the hill on her own.’

  School ended the Friday before Christmas and on Saturday Billy arrived at Blackdown House to fetch Charlotte.

  ‘Mother says to ask if Charlotte can stay for dinner,’ he said, and to Charlotte’s delight Miss Edie agreed. It suited her very well to have Charlotte out of the house for a few hours, she had plans of her own.

  Charlotte put on her coat and together she and Billy walked the mile and a half to Charing Farm where Billy’s mother greeted her kindly. Margaret Shepherd was large, both in height and girth, her greying hair caught up behind her ears with two large combs; a comfortable, motherly woman who guessed how difficult it must be for any child being away from home.

  ‘You’ll stay and have your dinner,’ she said, a statement, not a question, and Charlotte, standing in the warm, welcoming kitchen, said, ‘Thank you, I’d love to.’

  ‘I’m going to show Charlotte round the farm,’ Billy said.

  ‘Well, she can’t go in those shoes,’ his mother said firmly, looking down at Charlotte’s black school shoes. ‘Look in the back porch and see if you can find her some boots, there’ll probably be a pair of Jane’s that might not be too bad.’

  Billy led Charlotte into the back porch, where there was a row of wellington boots. ‘These look about right,’ he said, picking up a pair at the far end. ‘Belong to my sister. She keeps them here for when she comes home.’

  ‘Where is she now?’ asked Charlotte.

  ‘Jane? She’s training as a nurse in Bristol. Here, try them on.’

  Charlotte pushed her feet into the proffered wellies. They were on the large side, but she could manage to walk without too much difficulty.

  ‘Right,’ said Billy, his own feet in work boots, ‘let’s go.’ He led the way out of the back porch into the farmyard. It was almost square, paved with cobblestones, among which some hens were scratching, pecking peacefully.

  ‘Have to shut them up at night,’ Billy said. ‘Foxes. But we have a steady supply of eggs, and Mum says we’ll have chicken for dinner on Christmas Day.’ He walked across to a stable opposite. ‘My dad keeps his horse in here,’ he explained as he opened the door and went inside. ‘He’s out today, gone over to look at the sheep in the far field. Some of them’ll be lambing before long. Come on in,’ he went on. ‘I want to show you these.’

  Charlotte followed him into the stable, waited in the gloom while he lit an oil lamp and set it on a high shelf. To her delight she found herself looking over the half door into a loosebox full of puppies. The mother dog was lying comfortably in the hay while her pups explored their restricted world. There were five of them, black and white collie dogs, snuffling in the hay. One came at once to the door and Billy reached in and picked him up.

  ‘Three boys, two girls,’ he said. ‘This one’s a boy. He’s always the brave one. Dad says I can keep him to train up as my own dog.’ He rubbed the puppy behind the ears and it wriggled ecstatically. ‘Here, you hold him,’ Billy said, passing the black and white bundle over to her. Charlotte reached out for the puppy and cuddled his warm furry body against her neck.

  ‘He’s so sweet,’ she cried, ‘and you’re so lucky to have a dog of your own. What’s his name?’

  ‘Jet,’ replied Billy, and the dog immediately turned his head towards Billy. ‘See, he knows my voice already and his name too.’ He reached out to take the pup from Charlotte. Reluctantly she handed him back. ‘You’re so lucky,’ she said again. ‘I’d love to have a dog of my own.’

  ‘Got to find homes for all of these,’ Billy said. ‘P’raps you could have one.’

  ‘Really?’ For a moment Charlotte’s face lit with joy at the prospect, but then her face fell. ‘Don’t think Miss Edie’d let me. She doesn’t like mess about the house.’

  ‘Dogs aren’t messy,’ Billy assured her, ‘not if you train them properly.’ He put the puppy back into the pen. ‘Anyhow, these won’t be ready to leave their mother till after Christmas, so you got time to ask her.’

/>   They went on round the farmyard and Charlotte looked at the huge pig in her sty. ‘She should farrow in about three weeks from now,’ Billy said.

  ‘Farrow? What’s farrow?’

  ‘Have her babies,’ replied Billy, adding, ‘You don’t know much about animals, do you?’

  ‘I’ve never lived on a farm,’ Charlotte protested, and even as she said it she thought, I know I haven’t, and stored away this piece of information to add to the others.

  They were out in the field looking at the cows, grazing the meagre grass in the winter sunshine, when the loud clanging of a bell summoned them back to the farmhouse for dinner. Billy led the way into the kitchen where the long wooden table had been laid with eight places. The day was overcast and Mrs Shepherd had lighted three oil lamps, which suffused the room with a warm glow and Charlotte realised, with a jolt of surprise, that the farmhouse had no electricity.

  ‘Billy, show Charlotte where she can wash her hands,’ instructed Mrs Shepherd, ‘the men’ll be in in a minute.’

  Billy showed Charlotte a large downstairs cloakroom, where, besides the lavatory and wash basin, coats hung on pegs and buckets and brooms stood against the wall. When she emerged into the kitchen, Charlotte found five men coming in from the outside.

  ‘You sit here, Charlotte, my lover,’ Mrs Shepherd said, pointing to a chair next to her own, ‘and Billy’ll sit next to you.’ The men all took their places at the table and Mrs Shepherd said, ‘This is Charlotte, a friend of Billy’s. She’s having dinner with us today.’

  ‘You’re very welcome, Charlotte,’ Mr Shepherd said from his place at the opposite end of the table.

  Mrs Shepherd began to ladle stew on to plates from a big pot on the range and as these were passed along the table, one of the men said, ‘You’re a vaccie, aren’t yer?’

  Before Charlotte could even open her mouth Mrs Shepherd said, ‘We don’t use that word here, Bert Gurney.’

  ‘It’s what she is,’ muttered Bert.

  ‘What she is, is a guest in our house and someone who’s come to live in our village, that’s what she is,’ Mrs Shepherd retorted and a silence fell round the table.

  To change the subject Billy said, ‘I told Charlotte that she might be able to have one of the puppies, Dad.’

  ‘Did you now?’ His father raised his eyebrows. ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘She said—’ began Billy cautiously, but Charlotte interrupted him.

  ‘I said I’d love one, but Miss Edie’ll probably say no.’

  ‘We haven’t sold them all, have we, Dad?’ demanded Billy. ‘You said I could have Jet, but there’s four more.’

  ‘We’ll talk about it later,’ his father said, ending the discussion. ‘Don’t forget I’ll need you to help with milking this afternoon, Billy.’

  ‘But I promised Miss Everard that I’d bring Charlotte home,’ Billy protested.

  ‘Then you’ll have to go sharpish after dinner, because I need you back here. You’ve had the morning off.’

  ‘She can walk home with me,’ suggested Bert Gurney. ‘I’m going her way.’ But Billy immediately said, ‘No, it’s all right, I’ll take her, I promised. I’ll be back for milking.’ Charlotte felt relief flooding through her. She didn’t want to walk back to the village with Tommy Gurney’s dad, who thought she was only a ‘vaccie’.

  The dinner was delicious and filling. ‘Have to give the men plenty to eat midday,’ Mrs Shepherd said when they’d gone back out. ‘Heavy work on a farm.’

  Back at Blackdown House, Edie hadn’t been wasting her day. She’d been out to the copse at the end of the lane and cut some branches of holly and twists of ivy. These she’d brought home, thinking that together she and Charlotte could decorate the house and perhaps make a wreath for the front door. It was so long since Edie had paid any attention to Christmas she suddenly found she was enjoying the preparations. She had finished the blue cardigan for Charlotte’s Christmas present and had bought her an atlas and a dictionary from the bookstall at the bazaar. She was also planning a special lunch for Christmas Day. Not a Christmas dinner as such, but she’d saved up her meat ration to make a meat pie which she knew was one of Charlotte’s favourites.

  When she got back from collecting the greenery, Edie went up into the attic again. Somewhere, she was sure, was a box with some old Christmas decorations in it. She opened the triangular door and crawled through, her torch lighting her way. The boxes were all tumbled as they’d been left when Charlotte had been trapped. Which might hold the decorations, she wondered. She hadn’t seen them since... She thrust the thought of Herbert away and began reading the labels, many of them in her mother’s neat hand. She must have put them up here. Sure enough, on a small cardboard box near the back, was the word Xmas. Edie hauled it out and carried it downstairs. She decided not to open it until Charlotte got home.

  Her morning had been interrupted by a ring on the doorbell and she had been amazed when she opened the door to find the vicar’s wife on her step.

  ‘Miss Everard,’ said Avril Swanson, ‘may I come in?’

  Miss Edie nodded and stepped back to allow her into the house. ‘Have to be the kitchen, I’m afraid,’ she said, leading the way. ‘It’s the only warm room.’ She waved her guest to a chair and sat down opposite her.

  ‘Would you like some tea?’ she asked, rather belatedly.

  Avril shook her head. ‘No, thank you. I won’t stay long. Is Charlotte here?’

  ‘No, she’s gone to spend the day with the Shepherds at Charing Farm.’

  Avril was surprised, but she smiled and said, ‘That sounds nice. I’m glad she’s making friends among the village children. Look, I’ll come straight to the point...’

  ‘Yes, please do.’

  ‘Yes, well, what we wondered, David and I, was, well, whether you and Charlotte would like to come to us for Christmas dinner on Wednesday. David will be having a service in the church in the morning, but we’ll all be back to have lunch at about one and we hoped you and Charlotte would join us.’ She hesitated and then added, ‘We’ve got the three Dawson children, of course, and we thought Charlotte... I mean, well, it might be fun for her to have some other youngsters around.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know...’ Miss Edie was completely taken aback by the invitation.

  ‘Perhaps you’d like time to think it over,’ Avril said hastily, not wanting to bounce Miss Everard into saying no. ‘You don’t have to say now, just let me know by Christmas Eve so I know how many potatoes to peel. We’ve killed a chicken and it’s quite big enough for all of us. So think it over, perhaps see what Charlotte thinks.’

  ‘No, I make the decisions here,’ said Miss Edie. ‘I thank you very much for thinking of us and for thinking of Charlotte, being on her own here with only me for company,’ she raised her hand as Avril seemed about to protest at her bald statement of the facts, ‘and we’d be delighted to accept. Thank you.’

  Avril was surprised but pleased. She had come in the expectation of being roundly refused, but David had agreed it was worth the effort to go and ask and he’d been right.

  ‘Lovely,’ she said. ‘We’ll expect you any time after half past twelve.’

  When Charlotte got back to Blackdown House, Miss Edie was waiting for her in the kitchen. ‘Did you have a nice time?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, it was lovely,’ Charlotte said. ‘They’ve got cows and sheep and the pig’s about to... farrow?’

  ‘Is she now? You’ll be able to see the piglets next time you go over, won’t you?’

  Charlotte was pleased that Miss Edie thought she could go again. ‘They had puppies, too,’ she said. ‘They were ever so sweet!’

  ‘Guess who came here today?’ Miss Edie said, adding before Charlotte had a chance to answer, ‘Mrs Swanson.’

  ‘Mrs Vicar?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Vicar, and she’s asked us to go to the vicarage for Christmas dinner. Would you like to go?’

  Charlotte bit her lip. She did want to go, but she wasn�
��t sure if that would be the right answer. Miss Edie came to her rescue saying, ‘I said we’d love to,’ and was rewarded with a wide smile. ‘Now then,’ she went on, ‘I got some holly and some ivy today. I thought you could make a wreath for the front door and perhaps we could put some up in the house for decoration.’

  They sat together at the kitchen table and managed to fashion a wreath from the greenery. Miss Edie found a piece of red ribbon in her workbox and when they’d added that to their creation, they went to the front door and hung it on the knocker.

  ‘Now we must look in here,’ Miss Edie said and pulled a box out from under the table. She undid the string and said, ‘Open it and let’s see what’s inside.’

  Charlotte pulled the lid off and peered inside. ‘Paper flowers,’ she said and lifted out a long chain of paper roses. Edie took it from her and laid it aside. She remembered her father hanging that paper chain, looping it across the sitting room, and she was glad that she’d made her preparations in there too. The roses should take their usual place.

  Charlotte reached into the box again and pulled out four angels with gold paper wings, each attached to a piece of string. Mother used to hang those on the Christmas tree, thought Edie, and realised with a pang of regret that she could have got a tree if she’d thought of it in time. Never mind, they’d make the most of what they’d got.

  They spent the rest of the evening putting the remaining greenery behind pictures and hanging the old decorations. Miss Edie had planned to use the sitting room on Christmas Day and when she opened the door Charlotte saw that the room had been spring-cleaned. She hadn’t been into the room since her first day at the house. Now she saw that it had been dusted and the window, which had been thick with grime, had been cleaned. The fireplace had been brushed and there was a fire laid ready for lighting. She glanced across at the piano and saw that it, too, had been polished and that there were two new candles in the holders.

  ‘I thought we’d use this room over Christmas,’ Miss Edie said. ‘My father always put the roses up in here.’ She fetched the steps and Charlotte held one end of the chain while she attached the other to the wall.