Wait For the Dawn

by Jess Foley

  ‘Oh, of course not,’ Lydia said at once. ‘I understand perfectly.’ She looked over at Tinny, who stood a few feet away. ‘We won’t go near the field, depend on it. In any case, Tinny wouldn’t misbehave – would you, Tinny?’ At the sound of his name the dog pricked up his ears.

  ‘And I should warn you,’ Whittier went on, ‘that in the small paddock over there,’ he jerked his thumb again, ‘the bull is loose. So for your own sake, don’t go near’ im. He’s a crotchety old devil at the best of times, and is at’ is worst right now.’ Another touch at his hat and the man was riding away.

  Lydia stood looking after him, his words about the bull still sounding in her ears, while visions of Ryllis in the hospital bed hovered in her mind.

  ‘What’s up, Mammy?’ Davie said, and Lydia came out of her dream and said to him, ‘Nothing, darling. It’s all right. Come on, let’s carry on, shall we?’

  The women, the children and the dog made their way over the grass where all around them wild flowers grew in abundance – dandelions, celandines and ragged robin, while in the lea of the brambles there were wood anemones. In the more rugged areas of the heathland the gorse flowers grew yellow and sturdy.

  Over beyond the common they could see the pastureland where Whittier’s sheep were grazing. They continued on, skirting the sheep field, and taking a path through the adjoining meadow, while Lydia kept a careful eye on Tinny. The dog was well trained, though, and at her command kept obediently at her heels. She was relieved and pleased at his good behaviour, for the stories were legion of the damage that a renegade dog could do to sheep and cattle.

  After they had skirted a field of barley, they came to a little woodland, and here in its shade they came to a stop, sitting down in the soft grass. ‘We’ll rest for a while and then start back,’ Lydia said, and Davie groaned and said he wasn’t ready to rest yet. ‘Can Hennie and I go exploring in the wood?’ he asked, and Lydia said, yes, if Hennie would like to go with him.

  Hennie, who was now eight years old and behaved with Davie as if she were his big sister, said yes at once, and together the two got up and, calling Tinny to them, made their way towards the woods behind.

  Lydia and Evie, turning as they sat, watched them go off, and Lydia called out after them, ‘Don’t go too far away,’ to which Evie added, ‘No – and Hennie, don’t pick any flowers; they’ll only be dead before we’re halfway home.’ A few moments later the children, followed by the dog, had disappeared among the trees.

  ‘They won’t come to any harm,’ Lydia said, and Evie agreed and then added, ‘Davie is growing so.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ Lydia said. ‘I can’t keep up with him, the way he outgrows his clothes.’

  The two women took off their hats, and Lydia stretched her arms above her head and sighed. Turning to Evie she smiled. ‘How are you feeling?’

  Evie laid her hand on the gentle swell of her belly. ‘Very well, thank you.’

  ‘You’ve looked so much happier these past months.’

  ‘Have I?’

  ‘Yes, you have. I can see your happiness there, a contentment.’

  ‘Well – I suppose that’s what I’m feeling.’

  ‘How does Jack feel about the new baby?’

  ‘Oh – he’s very excited, but no more than I am. I didn’t think it would happen again.’

  ‘What? Marriage? A new baby?’

  ‘Yes. After losing Bill like that, I don’t think I expected anything – but now, everything’s different again.’

  ‘It was time, Evie.’

  Evie smiled. ‘Yes, perhaps it was.’ She paused. ‘What about you? Did you ever think you might like a second child?’

  Lydia considered this for a moment, then said, ‘I know it’s been Alfred’s wish, but it’s just – never happened.’

  ‘Are you sorry?’

  ‘Well, for Alfred I am – but we’ve got Davie, and we both love him so much.’

  ‘That’s obvious to see – and the way Alfred dotes on him. . . .’

  ‘Oh, he does, he does. I see other fathers are so strict with their children, and I suppose it’s the way they’re brought up to be, but not Alfred. He’s not like that at all. He loves the boy so much. I don’t think he could love Davie more if he were his own child.’

  Evie said, ‘I don’t know how you feel about Alfred, but you know – speaking for myself, there’s something I wouldn’t have believed possible, that you can love for a second time – but you can.’

  Lydia looked at her, taking in her words, then said with a shake of her head, ‘Twice. Oh, heavens, with all the heartache it brings, I should think once is quite enough.’

  Evie could see no gladness in Lydia’s face, but Lydia smiled, as if casting the moment behind her, and said, ‘Jack will miss you today, I should think.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose he will.’

  ‘He’ll be having his dinner at his mother’s, did you say?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. So there’s someone who’ll be very pleased, anyway. Having her boy back for a little while, and being able to make a fuss of him.’

  From the direction of the wood came Hennie’s laughter ringing out. Lydia smiled at the sound and said, ‘They’re having fun.’ Then she added, ‘It’s good to see Hennie looking so well, and she’s such a pretty girl.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘She gets on with Jack, does she?’

  ‘Oh, yes, she does, and she needed a father. He helps her with her school exercises and – oh, he’s so good with her.’

  Lydia nodded. ‘Like Alfred and Davie. Sometimes to see them together it’s – oh, it’s lovely. Not the way it was with Ryllis and me and our father. We never felt close to him. It was almost as if he was afraid of it – closeness. Though I suppose he meant well.’

  ‘No doubt.’

  ‘I’m just so glad it’s different with Alfred and Davie. I would hate it if anything should happen to – to spoil things. It wouldn’t be right to allow anything to happen.’

  Evie frowned. ‘Of course not. What could happen, anyway?’ She looked quizzically at Lydia, who, aware of her gaze, lowered her head. Then, after a moment, Lydia looked up at her and round about, taking in the woods. There was no sign or sound of the children. ‘I saw him,’ she said.

  Evie frowned, not understanding. Then realisation came. ‘Him?’ she whispered. ‘You mean – Davie’s father? Guy?’

  Lydia swiftly put a finger to her lips and gave a nod. ‘Yes.’

  ‘How – how did that happen?’

  ‘He came into the shop while I was there, serving. It was the greatest shock.’

  ‘I’m sure it must have been.’

  ‘He saw Davie too – and Alfred.’

  ‘Did you have a chance to talk? I suppose not, being in the shop . . .’

  ‘No – but I had to run after him with a package he left behind. We were able to have a few words then.’ She paused. ‘And afterwards – I met him again.’

  ‘By accident again?’

  ‘No. Not by accident.’

  ‘Oh . . .’

  ‘No, not by accident at all. I had to go to Pershall Dean, and we arranged to meet there, at the station.’ Looking at Evie she could see a little flash of wonder in her eyes – and a look of doubt, as if she questioned the wisdom of such actions. ‘I know,’ Lydia said quickly, ‘I know you think I’m mad to have done such a thing but . . .’ She halted for a second, then added, ‘I had to see him. He wanted me to, and he was so insistent. I had to go. I – I couldn’t say no. I just couldn’t.’

  ‘Oh, Lyddy.’

  ‘I know. Perhaps I was a fool. That’s what I thought when I was there with him. We went to this little inn, but we couldn’t really talk. I had to get out.’

  ‘So – what happened?’ Evie said.

  ‘I left. I thought, What am I doing here? But he came after me – and we caught the train together. I got off here at Merinville and he went on to Redbury.’ She sat up a little straighter now, then leaned forward and
put her hands up, covering her face. When she lowered them again she said, so softly that Evie could only just hear her: ‘He knows.’

  ‘He knows what?’

  ‘About Davie. That Davie’s his – his son.’ She barely mouthed the words.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I didn’t tell him. I didn’t need to tell him. He saw the boy and saw the likeness – and he also worked out the time. It was Davie’s birthday when he came into the shop and so it was easy for him.’ She sighed. ‘God – I didn’t know what to do. And he wants to see me again.’

  ‘Did you agree?’

  ‘No. I said it wasn’t possible. Oh, Evie, I daren’t see him again. I dare not.’

  Evie sat silent, gazing at her.

  ‘I mean,’ Lydia said, ‘what could come of it? Nothing but unhappiness, don’t you think?’

  Evie said, ‘You don’t sound very sure, Lyddy.’

  ‘Of course I’m sure.’

  ‘You almost sound as if – as if you’d like to see him again.’

  Lydia gave a deep sigh and turned her head, gazing off unseeingly into the distance. ‘I don’t know what I want.’

  ‘Surely,’ Evie said, ‘You haven’t got a choice.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose I have.’

  ‘Of course you haven’t. You said yourself, what would come of it – your seeing him again?’

  ‘I think about him so much,’ Lydia said. ‘Ever since he walked into the shop he’s been on my mind – even more than he usually is, for he’s never that far away.’

  ‘Oh, Lyddy,’ Evie said, ‘this is terrible for you.’

  ‘There shouldn’t be any questions in my mind,’ Lydia said. ‘I shouldn’t be wondering what to do. I should know. I do know.’

  Into the silence between them came the distant sound of Davie’s voice yelling out something unintelligible, the words light on the spring air. Lydia looked towards the sound for a moment, then turned back to face Evie.

  ‘I don’t even know why he wants to see me,’ she said, and then bravely she added, ‘Or why I want to see him.’

  Evie nodded. ‘So you do want to see him.’

  Lydia gave the briefest nod. ‘Oh, Evie, I can’t help it. I do. I do.’ She shook her head. ‘But I’m not going to.’

  There came a burst of laughter and the sound of feet in the undergrowth, and then Davie and Hennie and the dog came running from among the trees. The time for quiet conversation was over.

  A week and a half later Lydia set out once more for Pershall Dean. As before, she carried the burlap bag with the new batch of sewing to be done by Mrs Castle and her daughter. It had rained the previous day, and that Wednesday had dawned grey, but now the clouds had gone. Lydia set off from the shop just before three o’clock, stepping out smartly to get to the railway station. Her train came in on time, and a relatively short while later she was in Pershall Dean and making her way beside the green.

  As she anticipated, the kettle was on in the kitchen at the Castles’ little cottage when she arrived, and after the fortnightly business concerning the sewing had been dealt with, she sat and drank a cup of tea with the ladies. Afterwards, she wished them good day and took her departure.

  She had only gone a few paces from the end of the lane when she heard someone call her name.

  Even as she turned to the sound she knew whose voice it was, and there was Guy, coming towards her from the shade of the trees that grew on the edge of the green. She waited until he had reached her side, her face holding all the questions that were unspoken on her lips.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said. ‘I got here before you and watched you walk past me into the lane.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought you’d never get through with your business.’

  ‘But – how did you know that I – ?’ she began, then broke off and gave a nod. ‘Of course, I mentioned it, didn’t I. I said I’d be here in a fortnight.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What – what are you doing here?’ she asked after a moment, though she knew the answer well.

  ‘I had to see you. I couldn’t leave it like it was. I’ve got to talk to you.’

  ‘What is there to say? There’s nothing to say.’

  ‘Please. Lydia.’

  She could have said no, and been adamant, but she remained standing there. He took her stillness for acquiescence, looked around and then gestured over towards the duck pond where on its bank stood an old wooden bench, half hidden behind a screen of cascading weeping willow.

  ‘Please,’ he said, ‘can we sit down?’

  She turned and looked over towards the bench, hesitating.

  ‘Please,’ he said.

  She nodded. ‘Well – just for a minute.’

  In silence they walked over onto the grass and made their way to the pond. Guy saw her seated on the bench, then sat down beside her. For some moments neither spoke, then turning to her, he said:

  ‘Lydia, if you knew how I’ve been waiting for this moment, looking forward to it . . . I could hardly sleep last night for thinking of it, that I would be seeing you today. My greatest fear was that your husband might come instead of you.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘his foot’s still troubling him.’

  ‘Don’t you sometimes bring Davie?’

  ‘I have done, but the weather seemed uncertain. He’s at home with his nurse.’

  ‘He’s a splendid little fellow.’

  ‘Yes, he is.’

  Silence between them. On the surface of the pond a mallard drake swam, dipping its head under the water among the reeds close to the bank. A damselfly came skimming by, its wings shimmering.

  ‘We had no real chance to talk the last time,’ Guy said. ‘You went off in such a hurry – and I had so much I wanted to say.’ He hesitated just for a second, then added, ‘I love you, Lydia. I love you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t – please.’ She raised a hand to her mouth. Already things were going too far, moving too fast. ‘Don’t say such things, Guy. It only makes it worse.’

  ‘You called me by my name,’ he said. ‘I never thought to hear that again.’

  She looked away from him, over the water, but really unseeing, only aware of the man beside her.

  ‘I’ve thought about you so much,’ he went on after a moment, ‘and I don’t mean just these past two weeks. Though God knows, you’ve been so much on my mind during that time. I haven’t been able to sleep for thinking about you – and thinking about our son.’ He sighed. ‘If only I could go back and change things. I’d do it all so differently.’

  ‘We can’t,’ she said.

  ‘No, we can’t.’ He sighed again. ‘But I find myself doing that all the time – thinking What if? What if? – and it does no good, of course. It’s just another kind of torment.’ He paused. ‘Look at me, Lydia – please.’

  She turned to him after a moment’s hesitation and saw the pleading, the anguish in his eyes.

  ‘Did you ever think of me over these years?’ he said.

  ‘Did I ever think of you?’ Her eyes widened in surprise at his question. ‘How can you ask such a thing? Every time I look at my son I see you. Oh, don’t ask if I ever think of you.’

  ‘I’ve grown up a little over these past years,’ he said. ‘When I look back at myself at that time when we met, when we were together, I was so young. I didn’t know what I wanted. Though, as I said to you, I didn’t want commitment. I wanted the carefree life that I’d known – and I suppose I wanted you as a part of it, that carefree life. Perhaps I wanted you without any responsibility going along with it. It’s hard to think now what was going through my mind. And then of course there were my parents. They had their plans and dreams for me.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve told you all this.’

  Lydia said nothing, but waited for him to go on.

  He looked down at his clenched hands. ‘My father had always been so good to me, and I wanted so much to do the right thing by him. Can you understand that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  �
�I wanted so to please him, especially when he was lying there, so ill, and perhaps I believed him when he told me that I’d get over you. What experience of life and love did I have?’ He gave a little shake of his head. ‘But I didn’t – get over you. I never have. I don’t think I ever will.’

  ‘Guy – don’t talk like that.’

  ‘I had eventually begun to think that I would – get over you. I had tried another relationship. It hadn’t worked, granted, but at least I was able to give my mind to other things – and then I saw you, in the shop, and I realised that all along I’d just been fooling myself. You and I – we’d known each other for such a little space of time – just for that one week – but it was enough. After that time you were always there, Lydia, always there.’

  She said nothing. A swallow came skimming over the water and vanished beyond the trees.

  ‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ Guy said. ‘Loving, wanting . . .’

  ‘Don’t I?’ she said.

  ‘Oh, Lydia . . .’ He raised his head and looked at her. ‘Is it possible that you’ve felt the same things?’

  She could not meet his eyes now and she turned her face away. Before her the mallard still dipped among the reeds and the damselfly hovered. Yes, she wanted to say, and give way to the feelings, so long kept down. Yes, it’s true, I love you. I’ve loved you all the time. I think I’ve loved you since we met in the market square that day – and I’ve kept on loving you. She said nothing, however. Guy’s eyes dwelt on her, and then he had moved closer to her and his arms, so strong, were coming around her. And she gave herself up to the wonderful safety, feeling herself drawn against him, feeling her cheek against the rough fabric of his coat, smelling the warm scent of him, familiar after all this time. It was like coming home. She wanted the moment never to end.

  ‘Oh, Lydia, Lydia . . .’

  He breathed the words as he held her close, and she revelled in the sound and in his touch.

  She murmured against him, weakly, ‘Please, Guy – someone will see us.’

  ‘No,’ he said, his voice soothing, soft. ‘There’s no one about, and even if there is, no one knows me here, no one knows you – only your two ladies, and they won’t come out.’ His hand lay on her back, moving once or twice in gentle, soothing strokes. She could have been a child again, being comforted after a fall or a bad dream. ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘Tell me that you love me too.’