‘Go on,’ Kate whispered, prompting.
They had stopped walking and turned to face each other. ‘Ya mam stopped – right in front of us. She didn’t speak but sort of gestured with her hand that we should walk out behind the three of you. Just as if we were – well – family almost, or at the very least, close friends. And yet now . . .’
‘And yet now,’ Kate finished for him, ‘they don’t even speak to each other.’
Danny nodded and they resumed walking hand-in-hand until they came near to Brumbys’ Farm.
By silent, mutual consent, they let go of each other’s hand. As they reached the farm gate, Danny said, ‘We won’t tell ’em yet.’
‘No, let’s keep it our secret for a while.’
They looked at each other, seeing one another in a new way, a different way. Kate felt the thrill of excitement just below her ribs.
Danny loved her.
‘I’d best be off,’ he murmured, but made no move. ‘It is a bit late to go out on the boat now.’
‘Yes.’ But she too remained exactly where she was. ‘We got talking about other things, didn’t we?’
They were standing very still, just looking at each other.
‘How about Sunday afternoon then?’
‘Sunday?’ Kate murmured, absently.
‘The boat. We’ll go out on the boat on Sunday afternoon.’
‘Oh yes,’ Kate’s eyes glowed. ‘Sunday afternoon.’
‘Me want to come wiv you.’
On the Sunday afternoon after dinner, Lilian stood in front of Kate as she pulled on her boots.
Kate sighed but said levelly, ‘Not today. Another time, maybe.’
‘Where you goin’?’ the child persisted. At four years old, Lilian was an unattractive child with grey, expressionless eyes, mousey, straight hair and a sullen mouth that seemed always to be pouting. She was proving to be a sickly child – totally unlike her robust half-sister. Lilian was always catching cold and Esther was for ever fussing over her youngest chick; something Kate would never have believed possible.
To be fair, though, Kate thought, her mother had hardly ever needed to fuss over her, and on the only occasion when she had been really ill, well, she couldn’t fault her mother for the attention she had given her then. Even if it was guilt-based, Kate often thought, remembering the days following her return from the Lincoln school.
‘Yes – just where are you going?’ her mother asked now.
‘We’re going to try out the new engine in Danny’s boat – well, Mester Eland’s boat.’
‘Oh, that. I’ve heard enough about that these past weeks from ya father.’
Her stepfather’s face appeared from behind his newspaper. ‘Let me know how you get on. Get Danny to show you how to start it and how to steer . . .’
‘Now, why would I want to know how to start an engine, or how to steer it, Dad? It was bad enough having to row till we could get the sails up. Now there’s a motor in it, I’m just going to lie back and . . .’
‘If you ever get stranded out at sea, you might well be glad to know a little about how it works. You should learn, Kate. Any knowledge is useful. You never know when you might . . .’
‘Well, it’s unlikely I’ll ever be out at sea without Danny, and he’ll know.’
‘Haven’t you got some sewing you ought to finish before your class tomorrow night?’ Esther put in.
‘It’s Sunday, Mother, the Lord’s day,’ Kate answered pertly, mimicking the words Esther herself used so often, but taking the sarcasm out of her tone with a cheeky, infectious grin. ‘The Sabbath’s not for work. Sunday’s for rest and for meeting my – my friends.’
She bit her lip. She would have to be more careful; she had been about to let slip a hint of the change in the relationship between herself and Danny.
Esther’s normally generous mouth tightened visibly until it was a hard, straight line. Kate saw her open it to speak, but before the words came, she was out of the kitchen, through the scullery and banging the back door shut behind her. Yet it was not until she had crested the Hump and was running across the stretch of grass between the cottages and the river bank that she was able to forget the disapproval on her mother’s face, nor the lonely figure of her little sister, standing staring forlornly after her.
‘Kate! Kate!’ The sound of her name came bouncing across the breeze and she turned to see Rosie, a long-legged, coltish nine-year-old, galloping across the grass towards her. ‘Danny’s taking us both out in his dad’s boat to try out the engine.’
Kate was disappointed. She would not have Danny to herself. Then, as Rosie linked her arm through hers, Kate felt a stab of guilt. It was impossible to feel irritated with Rosie for many minutes. She was so pretty with her white-gold curls and merry laughter. She was their friend – hers and Danny’s. She mustn’t be selfish, Kate told herself sharply, wanting to exclude Rosie from their outing just because now there was something extra special between herself and Danny.
After all, she and Danny had the rest of their lives to be alone together. Kate felt an excited flutter just below her ribs.
The mere thought filled her with happiness.
Fourteen
She was cycling home along the coast road, singing softly beneath her breath, when she heard a familiar chugging noise behind her. Smiling to herself, Kate braked and jumped off her bicycle, wheeling it on to the grass verge. There was only one person around here who owned a motor car; Squire Marshall. And with his erratic driving on the narrow lane, it was much safer to dismount.
But it was not Squire Marshall at the wheel of a brand-new Austin Twelve; it was Danny. He drew to a halt beside Kate and leaned out through the window, grinning, as she gaped open-mouthed at him.
‘Whatever are you doing driving that?’
‘You not the only one who’s been promoted.’ His grin widened.
For the past two weeks Kate had been working as supervisor in the workroom. She even had three girls working under her and, with the added responsibility for their work being properly done as well as her own increased workload, there had been a substantial increase in her pay.
Kate laid her bicycle down in the long grass on the verge and went across the lane to stand beside the vehicle. ‘What d’ya mean?’
‘Mester Marshall’s made me his chauffeur. I’m to look after his car and drive him and his missus wherever they want to go.’
Kate shook her head wonderingly. ‘Won’t you be working on the land any more?’
‘Oh yes, but I’ve always liked motors. He’s talking about getting a tractor and a new reaper and ’ee ses he’ll put me in charge of all the machinery. It’s the sort of job I’ve alius wanted.’
‘Oh, Danny – that’s wonderful.’ She touched his arm as he leaned through the open window. Then she grinned archly at him. ‘Will it mean more money?’
He gaped at her for a moment and then, as he realized she was mocking his own question to her a few weeks back, he poked his head further out of the window and kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Spect so. If we go on like this we’ll be able to afford to get wed soon.’
Kate threw back her head, her laughter bouncing on the breeze. ‘I dun’t reckon a bit of promotion and a few shillings a week more is going to mek us millionaires!’
‘Dun’t reckon I’d want to be. Mind you, I wouldn’t mind a car like this of me own one day.’ He ran his hands lovingly round the steering-wheel. ‘Would ya like to come for a ride?’
‘Did we ought to?’ she asked doubtfully.
‘Squire wouldn’t mind.’
Moments later they were driving towards the town, but when they reached the first houses, Danny turned the motor round and headed back along the coast road. ‘Best not be seen.’
‘Oh, do let me have a go, Danny. Let me drive it.’
‘Well, I aren’t sure about that.’ Now it was Danny’s turn to be doubtful.
‘Oh, go on,’ she pleaded with her most winning smile. ‘I’ll be ever s
o careful and do just what you say. Squire wouldn’t mind,’ she added coyly echoing Danny’s own words.
‘Well . . .’
Minutes later she was sitting behind the wheel as Danny was telling her which foot to put on which pedal. ‘Press on the clutch-pedal – the left one.’ Danny put the gear lever into first gear. ‘Now, let it off slowly and at the same time press on the accelerator.’ The engine spluttered and the car hopped forward.
‘Slowly, I said,’ Danny bellowed in her ear.
Kate grinned at him. ‘Sorry.’
‘Try again . . .’
They moved forward along the lane in a series of jumps and engine stalls, with Kate laughing and Danny shouting at her. At last she seemed to get the hang of it and they were crawling along in first gear, but at least smoothly. ‘Now try second gear – press the clutch . . . into neutral . . . rev the accelerator . . . press the clutch again . . .’ and he pushed the gear lever into second gear.
The speed was increasing as they approached a gentle bend in the road, the sand-dunes on the left-hand side and on the right a grass verge and then a dyke.
Kate careered across the road towards the verge.
‘Turn your wheel. Brake!’ Danny shouted.
‘Which is the brake?’ Kate shouted back, unconsciously pressing down harder on the accelerator. The front wheels bounced on to the grass and the car headed towards the dyke. Danny grabbed the wheel and wrenched it round, but too late. The nearside wheels were on the slope of the dyke bank and the car slid, in slow motion, into the dyke, tipping over on to its side against the opposite bank.
As the car settled itself there was a ghastly silence until Danny, thrown against her and pinning her against the door of the car, said, ‘Now look what you’ve done. I’ll get the sack for this.’
Kate was shaking but not too shocked to reply with asperity, ‘Oh, wonderful! Not a word of “Are you all right, Kate?” or “Have you hurt yourself?”’
Danny levered himself off her and started to clamber up out of the car. He glanced back down at her. ‘Well – have you?’
There was a slight pause before Kate answered morosely, ‘No.’
Danny pushed at the door, now opening at a tilting angle, and heaved himself out. Then he thrust his head and shoulders back inside and held out his hand to her. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a pull.’
They stood side by side on the bank looking down disconsolately at the car nestling forlornly on its side in the dyke bottom.
‘D’ya think our horses could pull it out?’ Kate suggested.
‘They might.’ Danny didn’t sound too hopeful.
‘I’ll bike home and get me dad to come back.’
‘What am I going to tell Squire Marshall?’
‘I’ll go and see him,’ Kate said airily. ‘He likes me – he’ll not shout at me.’
‘Oh no you won’t,’ Danny said swiftly. ‘I aren’t hiding behind a woman’s skirts – not even to save me job!’
It was two hours before the Squire’s motor car was standing upright on the road once more. The two horses had pulled it from the dyke once Kate’s stepfather had attached ropes to the front axle. Now they were all standing in the lane viewing the damage while the two horses champed lazily on the grass verge.
‘Whatever were you doing, Danny?’ Jonathan was asking.
Kate and Danny exchanged a glance and Kate opened her mouth to explain, but before she could speak Danny said, ‘I wasn’t concentrating – me nearside wheels hit the verge and I couldn’t seem to steer back on to the lane and afore I knew it – I was in the dyke.’
‘Perhaps the steering’s gone.’ Jonathan was on his knees in front of the vehicle, bending down to look underneath, his head almost touching the ground as he peered between the front wheels. ‘If that’s the case, then it’s not your fault.’
‘No such luck,’ Danny muttered, but only loud enough for Kate to hear and understand.
Jonathan was reaching underneath the car. ‘Looks to me like the axle’s bent, that’s all.’
‘That’s all!’ Danny echoed wryly. ‘It’s bad enough.’
Her stepfather was levering himself to his feet. ‘See the Squire, Danny, and explain what happened. Tell him I can put it right if he likes.’
Kate saw the hope in Danny’s eyes. ‘Can you really, Mester?’
She watched the exchange between Danny and her stepfather. The latter was nodding. ‘I should be able to – I may need to get some parts, but it shouldn’t be too big a job. Come on now, Danny, you get in and steer, and we’ll pull it back to Brumbys’ Farm.’
As dusk crept over the flat fields, Kate was still waiting for Danny to come back from the Grange. Watching from a bedroom window which faced westwards, she could see the tall chimneys of the Squire’s home surrounded by trees. At last she saw a figure walking along the road leading from the Grange back towards the coast road. Lightly she ran down stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen. She paused in the doorway and held her breath. Her mother was bending over the range. Quietly, Kate edged her way towards the door leading into the back scullery, but her mother glanced up and saw her.
‘And where do you think you’re off to at this time of night, Missy?’
‘Danny’s just coming back from the Grange. I want to know what the Squire said.’ And without waiting for her mother’s permission she ran out of the back door.
Really, she thought to herself, I’m almost eighteen and yet I still can’t hardly move without her wanting to know what I’m doing.
She hung over the farmyard gate and Danny’s shadowy shape loomed up in the dusk. “Ave ya still got ya job then?’ she called merrily, confident that the worst Danny would receive from the kindly Squire was a telling off.
‘It’s all right for you to joke!’ Danny muttered morosely. He was walking towards her, but his hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his trousers. Suddenly, he kicked viciously at some loose stones on the road side, sending them pattering on to the grass verge.
A sudden fear clutched at her. ‘He didn’t – oh, he wouldn’t – sack you. Did he?’
‘He did! The old bugger bloody well sacked me!’
Kate gasped. Danny rarely resorted to bad language; that he was doing so now, and being so disrespectful to the Squire, shocked her.
And what made it worse – it was all her fault.
Very early the following morning, before going to work, Kate cycled to the Grange. Standing in front of the Squire’s huge polished desk, she felt the familiar fluttering just below her ribs that she got when she was nervous.
‘What’s so urgent, young lady, that I have to be dragged away from my breakfast?’
He was sitting on the opposite side of his desk now, glowering at her. When she had been shown into the book-lined study, he had been sitting in a wing-chair near the long window overlooking the smooth expanse of front lawn, his right foot propped up on a footstool, and a plate of bacon and eggs on a small table to one side. Leaving his meal, he had levered himself up from his chair and hobbled across the room, wincing with every step.
Kate had always liked the Squire, with his bristly white whiskers and red face. As a child, she had thought of him as a jolly Father Christmas and in her sudden concern for him, her nervousness was forgotten for a moment.
‘Have you hurt your foot, Squire?’
‘Gout,’ he said testily. ‘That’s why I wanted a driver till that silly young fool put my new car in the ditch!’
Her stomach lurched afresh. ‘That’s what I’ve come to see you about – Danny Eland.’
The old man grunted and glared up at her. ‘Well? What about him?’
Kate took a deep breath. She was taking a big gamble and she knew it. He couldn’t hurt Danny any more – he’d already dismissed him. But the Squire was her mother’s landlord. He owned the home they all lived in. If she, Kate, angered him even more . . .
‘Well, get on with it.’
‘It was all my fault, Squire.’ The wor
ds came tumbling out in a rush. ‘About your motor car, I mean. I was driving it, not Danny. I begged him to let me have a go and – I know he shouldn’t have. Oh, Squire – I’m so sorry. Please don’t sack Danny. And me dad – he can make it good as new. He’s ever so clever with motors and . . .’ She was babbling now in her agitation.
‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ The look on the Squire’s face was so comical that Kate gave a nervous little laugh.
He was shaking his head and staring at her. ‘You’re so like your mother, Kate, do you know that?’
Now it was Kate’s turn to blink in surprise.
‘She was only about your age when old Sam Brumby died and she came to see me, standing exactly where you’re standing now . . .’ His eyes clouded over as if he was seeing not Kate, but her mother, Esther. ‘No more than a slip of a girl, she was, but there she stood almost demanding that I grant her the tenancy of Brumbys’ Farm. The Brumbys had the tenancy for generations, but there was no family to carry on after Sam.’ There was a pause, then the Squire said quietly, ‘I always admired your mother for her honesty and it seems you too have that same virtue.’
He smiled at her now, and it was once more the Squire she knew and liked. His eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘All right, young lady, I’ll see young Danny doesn’t lose his job. Mind you, he shouldn’t have let you drive it.’
‘I know, but . . .’
He held up his hand, palm outwards. ‘All right, all right. Just so long as you get your stepfather to fix it up, we’ll say no more about it.’
‘Oh, thank you, Squire, thank you. But, just one more thing . . .’
‘What is it?’ he asked resignedly, but his anger was gone now and his eyes were twinkling.
‘You – you won’t ever let Danny know I came to see you, will you? He’d be cross. He’s got his pride, you see.’
The Squire’s whiskers twitched. ‘All right my dear. It’ll be our little secret.’
And as the Squire was rewarded with one of Kate’s beaming smiles, he in turn gave her a broad wink.
The Fleethaven Trilogy Page 52
