by Gloria Cook
Perry had asked to try his hand at milking a few days before, but due to his disability had encountered difficulty at getting down on the stool.
‘You can do it,’ Lottie had encouraged him as if she was the adult, while trying to guide him. She was pleased he was at the farm often.
‘’Tisn’t a good idea,’ Edwin had counselled. ‘You wouldn’t be able to jump back quick from a kicker and if the bucket was knocked over, as happens sometimes, well, there’d be a right old mess and you in the thick of it.’
‘I know,’ Perry had given up gracefully, not at all disappointed. Lottie had fed her grubby little hand into his and he had beamed down on her, before smiling at Emilia. ‘And I’d take too much time trying to get up every time. Think I’ll stick to the mucking out, the feeding rounds and paperwork.’
Thankfully, Selina did not venture much into the yards or animal houses, preferring to go riding and turning herself out to look her best in the evenings. Jonny, who had decided not to return to his studies until after the threshing, which was due to start tomorrow, kept himself occupied by doing mundane jobs, like clearing ditches, and Emilia knew he was trying to make things easier for her, while keeping away from Selina. Ben spent a lot of time at the farm, making it known that he did not approve of Selina’s presence; she seemed unperturbed by it. Perry and Selina had given a meal at Highertown and Ben had invited himself there. To Emilia’s surprise, so had Dolly, who had rarely gone past the village limits after dark. ‘I want to see what the house is like where they live,’ she had explained staunchly, somewhat mysterious. She had watched Selina throughout the evening. It had amused Emilia to see Selina struggling to remain polite to her mother.
The times Emilia spent alone with Perry were infrequent, both of them content to stay more as if just friends until the future dictated the time when they could make a formal announcement that they had decided to step out together. This time next year perhaps, after the first anniversary of their loved ones’ passing. It was enough to greet and bid farewell with a kiss, to pass an affectionate touch of hands, to smile into each other’s eyes. Indeed, their future together had already begun.
‘Mum!’ Lottie piped up. ‘I’m finished here.’
Emilia went to her to carry the bucket, which was too heavy for her. Lottie stayed put for the bucket to be brought back. She tilted back her head and gazed up, with a cheeky grin, at her mother. A look of devotion passed from one to the other. Lottie crinkled her bright brown eyes and there was a strong likeness of Alec about her. Emilia missed him so much at that moment. But she felt a glow of happiness. Her life was on a happy course again. The only blot, the only thing to cause tension, was Selina.
‘Missus,’ Midge Roach said in his thick accent. ‘’Tis Mister Ben come t’see ’ee.’ Midge, a married man, ruddy-faced, of small stature, who spoke as he found, glowered for a second before getting on with his work. Years ago he had worked at Tremore Farm, but when Ben had underhandedly gained purchase of it, while Alec had intended to buy it, Midge and another labourer had left Tremore in disgust and had asked Alec for jobs.
Ben didn’t care a jot for Midge’s opinion of him. ‘Hello, Em. Thought I’d drop in, see how things are.’ He was pleased not to have spotted a Bosweld about the place. It was hard to get Emilia to himself.
‘We’re fine,’ she said, emptying Lottie’s bucket in a churn and returning it to her. Lottie didn’t care for her uncle, who had never really bothered to speak to her, and she got on with the milking, humming a jaunty tune. ‘Have you heard yet from Brooke?’
‘Nothing apart from the telegram to say she and Faye had arrived safely.’ He peered down at Lottie, impressed with her industry yet torn, for a rich farmer’s daughter shouldn’t be attending to menial tasks. Nor should his widow. But Em looked entirely in the right place here, in her work clothes. And so lovely. So appealing. ‘See you’ve an eager beaver there. Need another pair of hands? You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’
‘Not really, and you’ve got your suit on. Your shoes are already mucky. Been to a business meeting?’ Emilia made her way back to Willow.
‘The suit and shoes can be cleaned. I’ve just had high tea with Dougie Blend. Nothing interesting. I might slip over to Paris soon. Why don’t you come with me?’
‘Don’t be daft!’ Emilia looked at him as if he’d suggested they fly to the moon.
‘What’s so daft about it? It would do you good. What do you say, Edwin?’
‘Same as my maid. Don’t be daft.’ Edwin’s tone was softer and polite to the young man who had been his superior when Ben had lived here. ‘Emilia doesn’t need to go gadding off.’
‘Pity. It was just an idea.’ It would be ages before Emilia would be free from here and Ben withdrew reluctantly. With Brooke out of the way he’d thought it would be easier to get closer to Emilia, but there was always a family member with her, or she was going about her duties as before as the squire’s wife in the village, and oh, those damn Boswelds… speak of the Devil…
Their Daimler pulled up outside the house, next to his sporty model. Selina got out. ‘Hello, Ben. Be a dear and help me with these.’
‘Help you with what?’ he demanded ungraciously.
‘These packages. I’ve been shopping.’
‘Who for?’
‘Does it matter? I’ve bought a few things Emilia mentioned she wanted. She hasn’t got time to go scouring the shops for bargains. I’m pleased to help out a friend.’
Ben went on ignoring her request. ‘You aren’t fooling me.’
‘Can’t think what you mean,’ Selina said brightly, lifting out a stack of shopping from the back seat.
‘I mean this sudden act that you’re a nice person. You’ve always been an evil bitch and always will be. Emilia isn’t fooled by it, you know, and people are watching out for her. Specially me. If you try to hurt her I’ll see you out of this world.’
‘A death threat, Ben? How very Hollywood. You and these anonymous people had better watch out that you don’t upset me.’ Selina smiled. A sarcastically innocent smile.
‘It won’t be long before you show your true colours again, and Emilia will send you packing. You’re only tolerated for your brother’s sake. How does that feel?’
Selina went up close to him and narrowed her eyes into two purple darts. ‘Don’t taunt me, Ben Harvey. I know things.’ She ground her heel into the gravelled drive and flounced off to the house, sweeping past Dolly Rowse with a forced convivial smile on the way.
‘I saw her face, Mr Ben. What’s she up to?’
‘I don’t know, Mrs Rowse,’ he replied, his expression as dark as a storm. ‘And I don’t like it.’
‘She’ll cause trouble, big trouble. She can’t help herself. I wish Emilia wouldn’t entertain her so. It’s keeping her here. That woman’s even talking of going to Miss Rawley’s wedding, saying she and Emilia should buy outfits together. She’s a parasite. She uses people. She presumes too much. I wish I could think of a way to get rid of her. It needs doing. Don’t you agree?’
‘I certainly do. I’ll try to think of something.’ His answer was grim. His position and perhaps Emilia’s and even the whole family’s could be grim. What were these things that Selina knew?
Selina placed a brown paper carrier of food stuffs, all delicacies, on the kitchen table, which was laden with a mountain of food preparations. She didn’t bother to ask Tilda why she had done so much extra baking. She then returned to the sitting room, where she had dropped the rest of her shopping. Her meeting with Ben was the second hostile confrontation she had received in the last two days, but she was too happy to care all that much. The day before, she had been returning to the farm on her borrowed pony. Passing Ford House, she had seen the two Annear children chasing about in the front garden and had reined in at the stone wall. ‘Hello there. It’s Alan and Martha, isn’t it? My name’s Dr Selina Bosweld. I’m a friend of Miss Rawley’s.’
The children had come to a stop and stared up at her.
‘How do you do,’ Alan said, giggling.
‘I’m very well, thank you. It’s nice to meet such a polite little boy. Your sister is very pretty.’ Selina wasn’t at all interested in them but she hoped to get on better terms with Elena, who, having seen through her earlier ploy to cause trouble for Jim, was being cool towards her. If Selina wasn’t intent on trying to establish a closer link with Emilia, she’d have tried to ruin Jim’s professional reputation by now.
‘What’s the pony called?’ Alan asked, climbing up on the wall, helping Martha to follow him. ‘Can we stroke it?’
‘Of course. Her name is Fern. She’s very gentle.’
The children were stroking Fern’s dark brown mane when a van was driven up the hill. It was brought to an unhurried stop so as not to startle the pony, but Jim had thrown himself out of the van. ‘Alan! Martha! Go inside the house at once. Go on, do as I say.’
Alan had frowned and Martha had looked unsettled, but their trust in Jim was infinite and they had jumped down off the wall and ran round to the back of the house without glancing behind.
Jim had hissed many a swear word at Selina, ‘Don’t you ever dare go near those children again! Do you hear me?’
‘I was only talking to them.’ Selina had nudged the pony forward, not wanting a scene overheard by Elena. She was anxious there would never be anything that would make Emilia change her mind about her. ‘But I won’t do so again.’
* * *
‘It’s here, Mummy!’ Lottie burst into the sitting room. Her brothers followed her in, their faces excited, even Will’s. Selina was surprised to see Lottie was still up.
‘I’ve been waiting to see this,’ Perry said, offering Emilia his arm. ‘Shall we?’
Sensing something momentous, Selina hastily pushed her arm through Emilia’s free one. ‘Has this got something to do with the threshing tomorrow? Whatever’s happening it sounds thrilling. Lead the way, Perry.’
Selina found herself outside with the entire family and workforce and she was genuinely fascinated about what she learned. Ford Farm had its own thresher, which was loaned out to the smaller farms; the farmers and labourers working in turn on all the farms. The thresher, which had the appearance of a vast wooden box, had several wheels and gadgets attached to it, and the power would come from the source of the mysterious noise, the smoking, coal-fired, visiting traction engine, which was now, like some fearsome beast, chugging and clanking and clattering, still at a good distance along the lanes. In places where low hedges and gateways allowed, belching smoke and steam could be seen.
‘It will be settled in the mowhay for a very early start tomorrow,’ Emilia explained to Selina, wishing she could think of something to free the woman from her arm. She would have picked Lottie up, but she had grabbed Perry’s hand and was dancing about in a state of anticipation. She and her brothers would be allowed the day off school tomorrow to help out.
Emilia tightened her grip on Perry’s arm to convey that she was glad to be able to share these moments with him. She always enjoyed this hectic time ahead, when the women did all the milking and animal feeding, and made the most of the female companionship, laughing and joking while they prepared and served the food for the three feasts the workers would consume throughout the day.
As the traction engine got closer the earth seemed to start shaking and the more Lottie danced about. The thick smells of burning coal, smoke and grease overwhelmed the farmyard’s usual ripe smells. When the immense, green-painted mechanical beast, with great puffs of smoke and many a shrill blast on its whistle, finally clanked and jangled its way heavily into sight, Perry tightened his grasp on Lottie, afraid she might plunge out in front of it and get crushed. It was a glorious sight. The engine driver and his mate, an ageing father and middle-aged son, wearing overalls, caps and red-and-white-spotted neckerchiefs, kept all the metal parts well oiled and highly polished, and their pride of the Cornish Belle was firmly on display. After they had brought the engine into place, the usually merry pair jumped down and solemnly gave Emilia their condolences over her loss.
‘Mr Harvey was a fine gentlemen,’ they said in unison, their declaration given in heavy dialect.
‘Yes, he was,’ Emilia said, her eyes misting over. Alec had also favoured the threshing.
‘He was,’ Perry echoed her words.
‘See you’ve got plenty of help.’ With his raddled old eyes, the father looked over the gathering. Jonny was lurking in the background. At his side was Ben, who had just arrived. Neither liked seeing Emilia in between the Boswelds.
‘Yes, I’m a lucky woman,’ Emilia said. ‘We’ll all work hard this year as usual and honour Alec’s memory.’
* * *
With the father and son seated around the supper table, Emilia thought herself very lucky, but later in the evening she was concerned to see her mother, Ben and Jonny whispering together in a little group. It could only be about one person. It seemed they were plotting some sort of campaign to rid the farm of Selina. But in successfully doing so they might inadvertently take Perry away from her too. Please God, don’t let anything go wrong tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty
The time of threshing was a pleasant time of camaraderie between the men, but not so for Perry. He soon regretted joining the throng, wearing, like them, a cap, a touser round his waist and more hessian sacking tied to his trouser legs, as protection against the unavoidable, sometimes choking, flying dust and chaff. He felt out of place, and Ben, Jonny and Will, usually so chummy with him, were so cross at Selina insisting she’d take part with the women, they all more or less ignored him. The farmers and labourers, and Jim Killigrew, who was helping out, were bemused to see him there and didn’t know how to relate to him. Perry was as able as any man to heft the sheaves from the corn-rick, which were fed beard first into the top of the thresher, but his disability made him slower and he fancied he heard more than a few impatient sighs. To withdraw now would draw derision on his masculinity, and he didn’t want to appear to Emilia to be less of a man than Alec had been, so he blundered on, thoroughly miserable.
The amount of grain, as it passed through the various sieves in the threshing machine and was graded into different sizes for different uses, grew satisfyingly nonetheless. As Emilia and Selina appeared with the tea urn, and the women and Lottie carried the food for the crib break of saffron cake, thickly buttered splits and hevva cake, Tom sought Perry’s company. ‘How are you getting on?’
‘To tell you the truth, I think I’m getting in the way.’ Perry lifted his cap to pull chaff out of his hair, its blackness dulled by the dust.
‘You’re not. People are a bit quiet because my father’s missing this year.’ Tom rubbed an itchy spot on his neck. The tiny flying debris irritated the flesh of every worker.
‘The first year will be particularly hard for you. Everything will be a constant reminder of him.’
‘It’s how I want it. I’ll never forget him. It’s good to see my mum coping so well, but there’s no one quite like her.’ Tom set his keen brown eyes on Perry. ‘You know that, don’t you? How long have you been in love with her?’
If Perry’s face wasn’t red from his efforts to keep up with the demands of the work it would have been now. ‘Tom, I…’
‘Don’t be afraid to discuss it. It’s not Will you’re talking to. He’s not so receptive as I am or he’d have noticed the way you look at her. The grandparents and Uncle Ben would have done so too but they’re so worried about your sister being around.’
‘Do you mind? About the way I feel about your mother? And is Selina getting to you too?’
‘The answer to your first question is that I don’t mind as long as you don’t rush things or compromise my mum. As for your sister, well, again, I think I’m the only one to realize what she wants.’
‘She wants to be near me, that’s what, worse luck,’ Perry said with feeling.
‘She wants more than that. She wants my mother. Do you understand, Perry?’
&
nbsp; ‘What do you mean?’
‘Watch.’
Perry gazed at the interactions of the two women. Selina was floating around Emilia. She was very close to her all the time, seeking her eyes, seeking her approval. Seeking her. ‘Dear heavens! I had no idea.’
‘Mother knows,’ Tom said simply. ‘And I know that she cares for you. Why else would she tolerate that sort of thing?’
‘Oh, bloody hell.’ Perry brought his hands up to his face. ‘Of course, now it all fits into place. Why Selina stopped insisting we move away. I’ll have to get her away from here.’ He nearly crumpled. He was going to lose Emilia after all. He couldn’t stay. He’d been hoping that sooner or later Selina would get restless and fix herself up with a new position far away. But she wouldn’t leave Emilia any more now than he wanted to, and inevitably, because Selina was Selina and a bitter, twisted woman, she’d make a determined play for Emilia, and she’d take some sort of terrible revenge over the rejection.
‘Perry, I’m sorry,’ Tom said. ‘I wasn’t happy at first when I knew there was something between you and my mum, but after my father, there’s no one else I’d consider suitable for her.’
‘I can’t do anything right now,’ Perry said feebly. ‘I don’t want a scene in front of all these people. I’ll tell Selina we must pack up and go tonight.’
Emilia came over to them with two mugs of tea. ‘All right, son? Enjoying it, Perry?’
‘Yes, Mum,’ Tom said.
‘Yes, Em,’ Perry lied.
Jonny and Dolly were watching Selina, who was distributing tea with a sickening jollity, but Ben’s dark, brooding eyes were on Emilia. Why did she spend so much time with Perry Bosweld? She always seemed to be fussing over him. The death of his daughter was sad, but – but! Ben felt he had been dealt the biggest blow in the world. No! It couldn’t be true! A few more moments of surveillance and he was certain that his horrible suspicions were not misplaced. Emilia and Bosweld were in love. They were attempting to disguise it but it was plain in his wistful, longing gaze and the overcaring way she was with him. Ben strode over to them. ‘If you’ve had enough,’ he all but hissed at Perry, ‘why don’t you call it a day?’
