The Best of Daughters

by Dilly Court

He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. ‘I’ve made a note of the parts needed with a rough guide to their cost and my charges. It might come to more if the job takes longer, or it could be less if everything goes to plan. You won’t get it done cheaper elsewhere.’

  She took it from him. ‘Thank you. My father will be in touch.’

  He did not move away, but stood staring thoughtfully at the cart and the restive animal. ‘I recognise this old trap. I think I fixed it once at the big house.’

  ‘Probably. It’s on loan until my father gets the motor back on the road.’

  He took the reins from her, making soothing noises to the unsettled cob. ‘So are you going to see to this poor brute or are you going to leave the horse and cart parked outside like a motorcar?’

  She stiffened, unwilling to admit that she did not know what to do. ‘I – er . . .’

  He grinned. ‘Would you like me to do it for you? I don’t suppose a lady like you has ever had to do anything so menial as rub down a horse or muck out a stable.’

  ‘You’re impertinent, Bowman.’

  His smile faded and he released the reins, causing the horse to move restlessly in the shafts. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to excuse a country bumpkin forgetting his manners. I’ll be leaving you now.’ He was about to go but she called him back.

  ‘No, please don’t leave me. You’re right. I do need help.’

  ‘And I’ll be pleased to oblige a lady in distress.’ There was a mocking note in his voice, and to make matters worse, he made it look so easy. He guided the horse into the coach house, and having unharnessed the animal he led it into the stables. ‘There,’ he said, stroking the horse’s neck. ‘It’s not difficult when you know how.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Daisy said stiffly. ‘I’m obliged to you, Mr Bowman.’

  ‘It’s Barnaby. We’re going to see a lot more of each other while I’m fixing your father’s motor, so we might as well start as we mean to go on.’ He shut the stall door, bolting it on the outside.

  She could not help noticing his sinewy, sun-tanned forearms, so different from her brother’s stick-thin wrists and puny, milk-pale arms. She made an effort to keep the conversation formal. ‘You’re very confident. He might refuse to accept your estimate and get someone else to do the work.’

  ‘He might, but he won’t. There aren’t many good mechanics in these parts. In fact there aren’t that many motorcars. I’m what you might call a forerunner in the machine age. It won’t be long before there are millions of motorcars on the road and petrol pumps in every village. We’re at the beginning of an exciting time, Miss Lennox. You mark my words.’

  His enthusiasm was catching and Daisy found herself looking at him in a new light. She had thought him an ill-mannered yokel but she realised now that she had been both wrong and foolish. She had spent too much of her life listening to her mother’s prejudiced views, and had looked down on a man merely because he wore overalls and worked with his hands. She realised now that she had become a snob, and she was ashamed. ‘You do make it sound quite thrilling,’ she said reluctantly.

  He beamed at her and this time there was no mockery in his smile. ‘It is. We’re coming into a modern world where fellows like this won’t be needed for work.’ He stroked the cob’s muzzle, receiving an appreciative whicker in response. ‘Anyway, I must get on. I’ve got a leaky tap to fix at the vicarage and a blocked gutter to clear at Major Henderson’s house.’

  ‘Of course. Don’t let me keep you.’ Daisy stood aside to let him pass but he paused, standing too close to her for comfort.

  ‘Good day to you, miss. Any time you need anything just send for Barnaby Bowman.’ He grinned, exposing a row of even white teeth, and then he was gone. The scent of male musk, engine oil and Lifebuoy soap lingered in the air and she stood very still, watching his swaggering walk as he went to retrieve his motorcycle. He kick-started the engine and drove off in a cloud of dust.

  It was only as she left the stables and walked towards the house that she realised she was still clutching the crumpled estimate in her hand. She quickened her pace, hoping that her father refused to sanction the work. Bowman was a disruptive influence. She made for the scullery, intending to lecture Ruby on the dangers of motorcycles.

  Victor Lennox, who had never willingly done a day’s exercise in his whole life, had arrived home tired and footsore. Teddy had blisters on his feet that needed urgent attention and he was convinced that he had sunstroke. He declared that he was too exhausted to think about food and all he wanted was to lie in a darkened room and mourn for the life he had once led. He left the room, limping.

  Close to tears Gwendoline begged her husband to accept the Pendletons’ generous offer to pay for the repairs on the Humberette, but his jaw set in a stubborn line that Daisy recognised only too well. ‘I may be close to bankruptcy, Gwendoline, but I refuse to accept charity.’ He turned to Daisy. ‘You may tell Bowman that I’ll pay him weekly for his time, plus whatever it costs to get the necessary spares.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’ She glanced nervously at her mother, hoping that they were not going to be treated to a display of histrionics.

  ‘Do as you will, Victor,’ Gwendoline said with a disapproving tut-tut. ‘You always have it your way. Nobody listens to me.’

  He smiled gently. ‘Of course we do, my dear. But you must allow me to be the best judge of how I conduct my business.’

  ‘You didn’t do too well when it came to Jeremiah Carlton. If it hadn’t been for that criminal we would still be living in Warwick Square like civilised human beings.’ She spun round, catching sight of Beatrice who was creeping past the door in an attempt to reach her bedroom and change out of her breeches. ‘Just look at your youngest daughter, Victor. She’s running wild and mixing with peasants like a native.’ She beckoned frantically to her daughter. ‘Come here this minute, Beatrice, and show your father how you went out today.’

  Hanging her head, Beatrice slunk into the room. ‘I’ve been helping the Gurneys with the harvest, Father.’

  Victor glanced at her jodhpurs and sighed. ‘I don’t know what young girls are coming to these days. But I suppose it’s better that you spend your time doing something useful rather than joining those despicable suffragists or listening to jazz music and smoking cigarettes.’

  ‘Don’t put ideas into her head.’ Gwendoline fanned herself vigorously with a lace handkerchief. ‘Go to your room and change into something decent, Beatrice. I despair of both my daughters.’ She shot a withering look at Daisy. ‘Your face is quite pink. You must have been out in the sun without a hat, and you’ve got hands like a navvy. It’s no wonder Rupert didn’t come up to scratch. You’ll end up on the shelf, my girl. And Beatrice will disgrace us all by marrying a farm labourer.’

  ‘Oh, Mother!’ Beatrice ran from the room and the sound of her running footsteps echoed throughout the house as she raced upstairs. Daisy took a deep breath, reminding herself that their mother had probably suffered the most from their move to the country. She met her father’s worried look with a meaningful nod of her head. ‘Shall we go and inspect the governess cart, Father? Lady Pendleton said we can have it as long as we like, and it’s better than walking to work each day.’

  ‘Your father goes to business, Daisy,’ Gwendoline said, sighing. ‘Common people go to work. Professional gentlemen go to business.’

  Victor rose wearily from his chair. ‘Yes, let’s go and see the grand equipage that will take Teddy and me to business each day.’ He winked at Daisy. ‘Lead the way, my dear.’

  Despite Daisy’s misgivings, Bowman started work on the Humberette next day. He worked all morning on the motor and it was all she could do to prevent Ruby from taking him cups of tea at half-hourly intervals. She seemed to have been smitten by his good looks and easy charm, although she denied any attraction on her part, saying that it was just common decency to make certain that a working man was well treated. When Daisy saw the fourth mug of tea abo
ut to be taken outside she put her foot down. ‘No, Ruby. This is ridiculous. We can’t afford it for one thing, and for another you spend more time chatting than you do actually working. It’s got to stop.’

  Ruby tossed her head and made a show of drinking the tea herself. ‘I was just going out for some fresh air.’

  ‘It’s raining,’ Daisy said coldly. ‘He’ll never get the motorcar back on the road if you keep distracting him.’

  Ruby’s bottom lip stuck out in an ominous pout but she said nothing and returned to the onerous task of blackleading the range. An atmosphere prevailed in the kitchen for the remainder of the morning. It was the first time that Daisy and Ruby had clashed head on over anything or anyone, and by midday Daisy had had enough of Ruby’s sulks. She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Perhaps Bowman would like a cup of tea before he breaks for his lunch,’ she suggested tentatively. ‘Would you like to go and ask him?’

  Ruby’s eyebrows were drawn together in a forbidding scowl as she mopped the quarry-tiled floor. ‘I wouldn’t want to be accused of wasting my time or making free with the master’s tea, miss.’

  ‘I thought better of you, and there’s no need to take that tone with me, Ruby Flagg.’ Daisy whipped off her apron and flung it onto the nearest chair. ‘You’ve been behaving like a two-year-old all morning.’ She made for the scullery door. ‘I’ll go, since it’s obviously too much to ask of you.’ She slammed out of the kitchen. It was still raining and she regretted the fact that she had not stopped to pick up an umbrella, but she could not lose face by going back indoors. She broke into a run, arriving at the coach house dishevelled and out of breath. Shaking the raindrops from her hair, which had escaped from the chignon at the back of her neck and was curling wildly around her face, she went inside. She could smell cigarette smoke and hear the clink of metal against metal. Bowman was still working on the motor and had his back to her. She strolled over to him, controlling her erratic breathing with difficulty. ‘So you’re still here,’ she said casually. ‘I thought you would have gone by now.’

  He took the hand-rolled cigarette from his lips. ‘Are you checking up on me, miss? There’s no need. I’m making a note of my hours.’

  She was unused to tradesmen talking back. First it had been Ruby and now Bowman had challenged her authority. There seemed to be a revolution going on in Rainbow’s End, and she did not know whether to stamp on it before it escalated or to join the rebels. She had listened to so many lectures on women’s rights that she could not in all conscience blame Ruby for standing up for herself, but Bowman was another matter. There was something almost feral about him that was annoying and at the same time exciting. She could not imagine him submitting to anyone in authority. ‘I’m not checking up on you, Mr Bowman. I came to see if you wanted another cup of tea.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be waiting on the likes of me, miss. Where’s that girl of yours? She’d be more than happy to oblige, I’m sure.’

  ‘Ruby is busy.’

  He flicked the cigarette end out of the open door onto the wet cobblestones. ‘What are you doing here, miss?’

  She recoiled. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  He chuckled. ‘Don’t look so offended. I mean it as a compliment. What I should have said is that you’re too good for Nutley Green.’ He glanced at her hands, clasped tightly in front of her. ‘You’re a lady. You shouldn’t be slaving over a hot stove all day.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, Mr Bowman.’

  He sat back on his haunches, looking up at her. ‘I saw your picture in the papers last year. You were one of them suffragettes and you knocked a copper’s helmet off.’

  She felt the ready blush rise to her cheeks and she dropped her gaze. ‘I’m not proud of that. I don’t believe in violence.’

  ‘There may be a lot worse things happening soon than smacking a constable on the head with a brolly.’

  His serious tone made her raise her eyes to meet his and she saw with a shock that he was in earnest. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s common knowledge that the Germans are building up their army. They’re always talking about it in the pub. Anyway, I don’t trust the Kaiser even if he is related to the royal family.’

  ‘I expect it’s just men talking when they’ve had too much to drink. I’m sure there’s no need to worry.’

  His serious expression melted into a smile that made her feel dizzy. He had a way of looking at her that made her pulses race, and he treated her like an equal, which was confusing. He did not seem to realise that there were social barriers designed to keep them in their respective places. ‘I suppose Ruby told you about the episode outside the palace,’ she said in a desperate attempt to distance herself from him without being too obvious. ‘She really shouldn’t gossip about family matters.’

  He rose to his feet, his smile fading. ‘No, she never said a word. Like I said, I read it in the papers. Anyway, it was all over the village. Everyone knows what you did and most of them think the better of you for it.’

  Once again he was standing so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his body. It was so unfair. He was not playing by the rules. She took a step backwards. ‘I’d better let you get on.’

  ‘I’m done for today. I’ve got to order some spares from Vauxhall and I don’t know how long it will take for them to come, so I won’t be here for a day or two.’ He turned away and began packing his tools in a canvas bag.

  ‘All right then,’ Daisy said lamely. ‘I hope they’ll arrive soon. I mean, it’s important to get the motor back on the road as quickly as possible.’

  He headed for the open doorway. ‘The rain’s stopped,’ he said, turning to her with a smile. ‘It’ll be fine for the church bazaar. There’s a dance afterwards in the village hall. Will you be there?’

  Taken off guard she shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t considered it.’

  ‘It won’t be what you’re used to, but you might enjoy a bit of rustic fun.’

  ‘You really do think I’m a terrible snob, don’t you, Bowman?’

  ‘Who me, miss? Whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘Now you’re laughing at me. It’s not polite.’

  ‘I’m sorry for being a bit of a turnip, miss. We simple country folk can’t help having straw growing out of our ears.’

  She followed him outside, catching hold of his sleeve. ‘You don’t know me and you shouldn’t pigeon-hole people.’

  He met her angry stare with a steady gaze. ‘Ever heard of the pot calling the kettle black? It seems to me, Miss Lennox, that you’re as guilty of that as anyone.’

  ‘How dare you? You’re forgetting your—’

  ‘My place, miss? Is that what you were going to say? You and your fine ideas about equality. Does that just apply to women with a good education and a plum in their mouths?’ Looping the canvas bag over the handlebar of his motorcycle he drew her roughly into his arms and kissed her on the lips. He held her for a moment, his eyes boring into hers. ‘You’re a woman and a damn pretty one too, if only you’d drop the airs and graces.’

  ‘You uncouth brute.’ She raised her hand to slap his face but he caught her by the wrist.

  ‘Steady, Miss Lennox. You almost stooped to my level.’

  ‘Don’t ever do that again.’ She jerked free from his grasp, taking a step backwards and glaring at him. She was furious with him and with herself for allowing him to take such liberties.

  ‘I’m not promising anything. You look even prettier when you’re cross.’ He mounted his motorcycle. ‘I hope to see you at the dance tonight. It’s a do to raise money to repair the church roof. You’d be doing your civic duty, Daisy.’ He kick-started the engine and roared off down the lane.

  Speechless and still shaking with anger, she took a couple of minutes to calm down before returning to the house. She could hear her mother’s voice as she entered through the scullery, and found her in the kitchen interrogating Ruby who looked flushed and flustered.

/>   ‘Where have you been?’ Gwendoline demanded angrily. ‘Ruby didn’t know and I’ve been waiting for my lunch. You know that I’m supposed to help Lady Pembleton on the cake stall this afternoon, but I’ve got one of my heads coming on and it’s all your fault.’

  Ruby sent a sympathetic look in Daisy’s direction. ‘Sorry, miss.’

  ‘Don’t apologise to my daughter, Ruby.’ Gwendoline edged her out of the way, coming to stand close to Daisy with a martial gleam in her eyes. ‘You know I have to eat at regular intervals or I feel faint. Now I’ll have to lie down all afternoon and you will have to stand in for me.’ She paused for breath, eyeing her critically. ‘You look a perfect fright, Daisy. Where were you when I needed you?’

  ‘I was discussing the repairs to the motorcar with Bowman, Mother. He has to send for spare parts so there will be a delay while he waits for them to arrive.’

  Gwendoline raised her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes as if in pain. ‘Stop. I don’t want to hear about that wretched vehicle. If only we’d brought our chauffeur to the country instead of that simple girl, none of this would have happened.’

  ‘Mother, please.’ Daisy cast a worried glance at Ruby, who was pulling faces behind Gwendoline’s back. Resisting the urge to giggle, Daisy steered her mother towards the doorway. ‘Go and sit in the drawing room, Mother. Give me ten minutes and I’ll have your lunch on the table, and then you must lie down. I’ll see to everything, so don’t worry.’

  ‘Beatrice has gone to the farm again. She’s running wild and it’s all because your father didn’t keep a close enough eye on his business affairs. This was a terrible move. You’ll be gallivanting around with the peasants next.’ Gwendoline tottered out of the room.

  Daisy closed the door on her, leaning against it and sighing. ‘I’m sorry, Ruby. Mother didn’t mean it.’

  ‘Yes, she did. Don’t worry, I know exactly what Madam thinks of me and I can live with that. It’s what all toffs think of people what don’t speak proper and come from south of the river. I’m used to it.’