by Val Wood
‘I don’t think ’person I’m looking for will have emigrated,’ Daniel said. ‘He’ll be Granny Rosie’s age.’ Then he frowned. ‘But I suppose a seaman could have landed up anywhere. I might not ever find him.’
‘But if you start in Rome, the authorities will be sure to know which district the Orsinis come from,’ George said.
Charles conceded that he might be right. ‘But we need to talk about how we’ll get there.’ He wagged a finger at George to shut him up. ‘We’ll wait for Father to come in and see what he thinks.’
Daniel thought that this meeting wasn’t turning out to be such a good idea. It would be better if Charles and I discussed it on our own rather than having to listen to everybody else’s opinion.
Christopher Hart came in at that moment, murmuring his apologies. He bowed and said, ‘How do you do,’ to Harriet, and shook Daniel’s hand when he stood up to greet him.
‘So how are you getting on with the travel arrangements? Ah,’ he said, looking around. ‘Mr Tuke not here?’
‘Fletcher sends his apologies, sir,’ Harriet said. ‘He couldn’t get away.’
‘There’s always a job to be done in farming,’ Christopher commented, ‘but I expect that these two young men would rather make their own decisions in any case?’ He raised his eyebrows in query, and first Charles and then Daniel nodded.
‘What I was going to suggest, however, if I may,’ he went on, ‘is that perhaps you would allow me to drive you to whichever port you decide to leave from. It might be quicker travelling by road rather than having to change trains several times.’
‘Unless we sail from Hull, sir,’ Daniel said, ‘and across ’German Sea to ’Netherlands.’
There was then a discussion of the various options for getting across from England to the Continent, and Beatrice put in her opinion that travelling by road wasn’t all that pleasant when the weather was bad. By the time they’d reached stalemate it was nearing midday and Harriet had to get home to attend to the men’s food, so the meeting was abandoned.
‘Let’s both make an itinerary,’ Charles suggested to Daniel before they parted, ‘and swap notes. You put down your ideas and I’ll put down mine. That way we’ll know what the other wants.’
‘Yes,’ Daniel agreed. ‘But I’ll discuss it wi’ Fletcher and Ma first. I haven’t travelled before, so I’ll need advice.’
His mother hadn’t travelled either, but Fletcher said he considered that a Kentish port would be the best option as it was a mere hop across the English Channel, and if they intended to aim for Italy it would be a shorter journey than going from Hull and across the Netherlands.
‘Although,’ he mused, ‘looking at the dykes that the Dutch built would be interesting.’
Charles dropped in to see Daniel a few days later, bringing an atlas. ‘I’ve made notes of where we might disembark if we go from the south, and to some extent I’ve followed Mr Thomas Cook’s footsteps when he takes his travellers to Switzerland. We could go via Le Havre.’
Later that evening, Daniel traced the journey from Le Havre across France, Switzerland and Italy and felt sick with excitement and trepidation. ‘It’s such a long way,’ he said to his mother. ‘Look at ’size of France!’
‘I’m looking.’ She was peering over his shoulder at the map. ‘Would you go through Paris? There was a lot of trouble some years ago. News even came through to England.’
‘There’s always trouble somewhere, Ma.’ Daniel continued tracing his finger across the Continent. ‘It was a revolution of ’workers. It’s all quiet now. Well, fairly quiet,’ he added. ‘I’d like to go there. I’d like to see Napoleon’s Triumphal Arch. We had to draw it when I was at school.’
He looked at her. ‘You’re not to worry, Ma. We’ll keep out of trouble; keep our heads down as much as possible. You don’t mind me going, do you? You don’t think I’m letting everybody down by going off on this jaunt? It’s not just about finding my grandfather – I think ’chances of that are fairly slim – but it’s a good excuse for going travelling.’
‘I don’t mind.’ She stroked the back of his head. ‘I think it’s exciting. Such an adventure for you. I’m just anxious that you won’t come back.’
‘Like your brother, you mean?’ He shook his head and smiled. ‘I’ll come back, Ma. I promise.’
‘No,’ she said urgently. ‘Don’t promise. I don’t want to be ’sort of mother who’d hold her bairns back from what they wanted to do. But write and tell me where you are. Not knowing would be ’worst of all.’
Later, Daniel told Fletcher that he’d rather travel by train to the port of departure. ‘We’ll have to stop over somewhere on ’way down if Mr Hart takes us, and there’s no need. We’re not bairns. We’re going travelling abroad; we can manage between here and Dover!’
‘Then say so,’ Fletcher told him. ‘Tell Charles that’s what you want to do. This is your journey as much as his.’
Charles was sorting through his books, deciding which he would need for his final term, when his mother knocked and came in. ‘Getting ready?’ she asked wistfully.
Charles nodded. ‘Yes.’ He sat on his bed. ‘Just think – I won’t be needing these any more after this term.’ He hesitated. ‘Mama?’
Melissa raised her eyebrows; she always knew when something was bothering her eldest son. ‘Yes?’
Charles bit on his lip. It was time, he thought, to assert himself. ‘When Daniel and I set off in the spring, I don’t want Father to take us. I want to travel by rail and Daniel does too, but he’s too polite to say so. The journey by road is too long to do in a day, but if we travel by train we’d be at the port by evening.’
‘And I would rather you did.’ She smiled. ‘It’s just that your father has never trusted trains. He’s always said they are dangerous.’
‘He’s stuck in the past, Mama. Trains have been running for forty years! They’re quicker and safer than travelling by potholed roads, and Father would want to break the journey somewhere.’
Melissa gave a small sigh. It was true. Christopher was ageing; he took longer to do everything nowadays, but he took his duties seriously and she knew he would want to see Charles and Daniel safely on board ship, just as he insisted on taking Beatrice to London to meet her escort for the journey to Switzerland. He would take her all the way if he could.
‘I’ll speak to him,’ she said. ‘I’ll persuade him.’
‘No,’ Charles said. ‘Sorry, Mama, but I’ll tell Father. It’s what we want to do. And,’ he added, ‘Beatrice would rather travel by train to London. She says she’s nervous when Father takes the reins to give Benson a rest. She travels across France to Switzerland by train, after all.’
‘Why has Beatrice not said? She’s usually quick to give her opinion.’
‘She doesn’t want to upset him. She knows how he worries.’
‘Well, it’s too late now. She travels tomorrow. I wish she’d told me,’ Melissa said. ‘I might have persuaded him. I could have gone with her to London, stayed a few days, done some shopping,’ she added pensively.
When Charles brought up the subject with his father, he thought there was a sense of relief in Christopher’s manner when he agreed that if that was what they really wanted to do, they should do it. ‘I’ll admit that I wasn’t looking forward to the long journey – but,’ he added swiftly, ‘if you should change your minds …’
‘We won’t, sir,’ Charles said equally swiftly. ‘And I think I should mention to you that Beatrice would prefer to travel to London by train. I suppose it’s too late for tomorrow, but perhaps next time?’
‘Oh, dear,’ his father sighed. ‘I hate travelling by train, noisy smelly things. I fear I’m becoming redundant. By the time you come home again from your travels – how long are you likely to be away, do you think? – you’ll be itching to take over the estate and I shall be ready for my rocking chair.’
I won’t, Charles thought. It’s the last thing I want. Stephen will suit the role better
than I. But he answered amiably, ‘You’re a long way off the time for your rocking chair, Father,’ and avoided the question of how long he would be away.
Beatrice wished that the subject had come up earlier. ‘I’m stuck with travelling by carriage,’ she groaned. ‘But I’ll return by train when I come home in the summer.’
‘Easter, you mean,’ Charles said. ‘Or are you planning on being in Switzerland when Daniel and I come over?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her cheeks flushing. ‘I certainly am, so you’ll come straight there, won’t you? Sail to Le Havre as I do, and then take the train to Paris and make your way to Switzerland. By the way,’ she said casually, ‘I’m going to say that Daniel is my cousin, otherwise I might not be able to come out with you.’
‘Out with us?’
‘Yes. I’ll say that we’re going out for lunch or tea or something. If there are any girls staying at school for the holidays I might ask one of them to come, and then I won’t need a chaperon.’
‘Not Agathe, please,’ Charles begged. ‘Anyone but her.’
‘No, not her,’ Beatrice said contemptuously. ‘We don’t mix so much any more. She’s become very pompous.’
‘Will you go back after the summer hols?’ Charles asked, and he laughed as he spoke. ‘Or will you be finished?’
‘As much as I’m ever likely to be.’ Then she said despondently, ‘I don’t know. No, I hope not, but Mama and Papa will decide. But what do I do then? I’m nineteen. Must I do the rounds of partying and balls and wait for someone suitable to ask for my hand in marriage?’
‘Poor you.’ Charles patted her shoulder. ‘I’m so pleased that I’m not a girl.’
She pouted. ‘If no one desirable asks for me, then I might travel too. Women do, but not at my age. I’ll have to wait until I’m mature enough to go on my own or with a female companion, otherwise I won’t be classed as respectable.’
‘But would you mind not being considered respectable?’ Charles asked teasingly. ‘Except, of course, that you realize it would rebound on us, your brothers and our parents?’
‘Well, you wouldn’t mind,’ she said crossly. ‘You don’t care what anyone thinks.’
‘No, I wouldn’t.’ Charles grinned. ‘Unless you do something really reckless and stupid and then I might.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, I don’t know, running off with a bounder. Ruining our name and your reputation.’
‘Ha!’ she said. ‘The chances of my finding a bounder are exceedingly slim.’
Daniel went over to the manor that evening. He’d spruced himself up and slicked down his unruly hair. He’d come to say goodbye to Beatrice before she left the next morning, and the boys too, he said awkwardly, in case he didn’t see them the following week.
‘I wish I could stay at home,’ Stephen told him out of his father’s hearing. ‘I’d much rather be working outside or going to agricultural college.’
‘Maybe next year?’ Daniel suggested. ‘They might not take you yet in any case.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Stephen said thoughtfully. ‘I hadn’t considered that, so maybe I’d better buckle down and be sure of being accepted.’
‘I like school,’ George said, and his brothers groaned and called him Swot. Beatrice went up to him and gave him a hug and he squirmed and looked sheepish.
‘I’d better be off,’ Daniel said. ‘I hope you have a good journey, Beatrice.’ He could feel his neck flushing and he hunched into his jacket. ‘I’ll, erm, see you in Switzerland.’ He laughed. ‘I can’t believe I said that. Pinch me, somebody!’
They all rushed to oblige, even Beatrice, and they were all laughing and jostling when Mr and Mrs Hart came into the room. Mrs Hart raised her eyebrows in her inimitable way, but Christopher Hart gave a small puzzled frown and Daniel wondered if he had ever had any rough and tumble with friends when he was young.
‘Daniel was just saying that he couldn’t believe he’s going to Switzerland,’ Charles explained ineptly. ‘And asked us to pinch him.’
And although Mr Hart murmured ‘Ah!’ Daniel knew that it was Beatrice he was looking at, not him, unless – and more likely – it was at both of them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Over the winter period and towards the Easter season, Daniel fitted in as many jobs as he possibly could. Ever since he was old enough to yoke a horse to a plough, it was considered and accepted that his role in the farming year was the ploughing, harrowing, sowing and reaping. He loved his horses and took great care of them, checking their health and their feet and feeding, watering and grooming them, and he knew he would miss them almost as much as he would his family.
Fletcher would take over their care whilst he was away, for he was the one who had taught him; Tom, who was able to turn his hand to most work, would fill in wherever he was needed. Lenny had his beloved herd of pigs, which had produced several litters of piglets, some of which he had sold on after they were weaned; and whereas Joseph was still rather nervous of horses since his encounter with them when he was a toddler, he liked to tend the sheep, and helped Fletcher repair and reassemble machinery.
Yet Daniel still said he felt guilty at leaving.
‘Tell you what, then,’ Fletcher said one evening after they had finished their supper. ‘When you come back home, Lenny can go off adventuring, and then when Joseph is old enough he can go.’
Lenny looked up. ‘I can’t go. I’m too busy to go anywhere. I intend building up an even bigger herd than I’ve got now, and I’m going to try out different breeds to find ’best meat for pork and bacon.’
‘But what about me?’ Dolly complained. ‘I’d like to travel too.’
‘You’ll have to find a rich man to marry you, Dolly,’ Tom said. ‘I’d marry you myself, but I’m done wi’ travelling.’
‘But you’re too old, Uncle Tom,’ Dolly objected. ‘You’re as old as Da!’
‘Your da and me have been having a discussion, Dolly,’ her mother broke in, ‘and we’ve decided that you and Maria can swap jobs. We think that you’re ready to start work. Maria has already asked Mrs Topham and she’s willing to tek you on. You can start after Easter.’
‘Oh, Ma! Really?’ Dolly was ecstatic. ‘And you mean that Maria will come home?’
‘Yes, she’d like to, even though she says she’s been happy enough at Mrs Topham’s.’ She smiled at Elizabeth. ‘And it’ll be nice to still have two girls at home, won’t it, Lizzie?’
Elizabeth, still scraping her bowl of custard, nodded.
The weeks sped by. Harriet worried about Daniel sleeping rough, and decided to sew him a sleeping sack in case there were nights when he couldn’t find accommodation. Fletcher drove her to Brough station, where she caught the train into Hull. There had been many changes in the town since she had last been and she wished she had more time to look round some of her old haunts. She located a draper’s shop and bought waterproof material, a pair of fustian sheets and some strong cotton thread, and returned home well pleased with her purchases.
When she had finished tacking it all together she asked Joseph to find her some sheep’s wool from the meadow. She washed and dried and teased it until it was soft and fluffy, filled the sack and stitched it up.
Daniel climbed into it to try it for size and declared it perfect. ‘Charles is going to want one, Ma. You ought to have bought enough material for two.’
‘I never thought,’ she said. ‘Surely Charles will have something similar already? But if he hasn’t, I think there’s enough material left, and I only used one of the sheets.’
‘Mek him one, Ma,’ Daniel said. ‘He’ll be as pleased as Punch.’
So she did, and Daniel continued to plan their route and build up his list of what he would need for the journey. Granny Rosie knitted him thick wool socks, a scarf and a brightly coloured hat to cover his ears, which he gazed at in dismay even though he thanked her; he polished his best good strong boots and put aside several pairs of laces, because, as he told Elizabeth wh
o was watching him, ‘The best boots you can buy are no good without laces.’
‘I’ll miss you when you’ve gone, Daniel,’ she said plaintively. ‘I don’t understand why you have to go.’
He gave her a squeeze. ‘I don’t have to go, Lizzie, but I want to. It’s important to me.’ He had already explained that he was going in search of his grandfather; when he came home again he would explain further if he had discovered any answers.
Easter fell in early April that year and Charles, Stephen and George Hart arrived home the week before. Charles was euphoric at leaving school for the last time, for as he explained to Daniel when they met, ‘Although I’ve left my options open for going to university later, and that is what my father expects of me, in all honesty I don’t think I will. I’d like to study art and maybe literature, but mostly art, and I think this journey through France and Italy will open my eyes, allowing me to see what is possible.’
‘I’d like to go to Paris,’ Daniel told him. ‘I’d like to see ’palace gardens and ’River Seine.’
‘Yes, I would too,’ Charles said eagerly. ‘And the Louvre. Not that I want to be an artist, I’m not good enough, but I’d like to see the works of art that I’ve read about.’ He lowered his voice. ‘And particularly Montmartre,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t tell your mother we’re going in case she’s heard of it.’
‘Why?’ Daniel whispered.
‘It’s where the artists and their models live,’ Charles said in an undertone. ‘There’s a lot of drinking and, erm, other things going on. Struthers, our art master, told us about it; he’s a very liberal-minded sort of fellow and spends his summers there. Have you heard of Camille Pissarro?’
Daniel shook his head, and Charles continued, ‘He’s one of the artists who live there and apparently he gathered a group of other artists together, including Monet and Cézanne, to create the Impressionist school of painting. There are other artists and writers living there too because accommodation is cheap and most of them struggle to earn money, but,’ his voice dropped even lower, ‘the area is considered to be very decadent.’
