The girl stared at her. Over the last two or three years she had begun to realize that she lived a very different life from most of her schoolfriends. All her friends, if she was honest. It hadn’t seemed as noticeable when she had been at the village school. Several of her classmates lived on isolated farms and the difference had not seemed so great. But now she was older and mixing with youngsters from the town, she had begun to see how odd her own life was compared with theirs.
‘Ask your mam if you can stay the night at mine,’ her best friend Sally had asked Maisie more than once. ‘We could go to the pictures and all meet up in the coffee bar. You’d love it. It’s what we do most Saturday nights.’
Maisie had shaken her head. ‘She won’t let me. I don’t even have to ask her. I know what the answer’ll be.’
‘Well, try.’ Sally, a good-natured plump girl with mischievous eyes and curly brown hair, had linked her arm through Maisie’s. ‘We’d have such fun.’
But Maisie had been right. Anna’s answer was ‘No’.
Late in the afternoon of her birthday, when she arrived home from school, Tony was waiting for her at the cottage.
‘I’ve brought you these,’ he said, handing over two magazines. ‘There’s some pictures of all those fellers you’re always going on about. Elvis Presley, Cliff Richard and Adam Faith, is it?’
Maisie opened the pages. ‘Oh, look,’ she exclaimed over one of a handsome, dark-haired, moody-looking young man.
‘Who on earth is that?’ Anna asked.
‘Elvis,’ Maisie breathed. ‘Oh, it’s Elvis.’
Tony grinned. ‘Reckon I look a bit like him, don’t you?’
Maisie laughed. ‘Well, a bit, but can you sing like him?’
Tony dropped the magazine onto the table. He adopted the pose of the guitar-playing idol and began to sing ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight?’
Maisie laughed and clapped her hands. ‘Oh you can, you can. You sound just like him.’
Tony laughed. ‘I don’t know about that, but I wish I had his money.’
‘You wouldn’t be any happier,’ Anna said quietly. ‘Now, Maisie, take these upstairs to your room. I must get the tea.’
Maisie pulled a face, but did as her mother asked. Tony made to leave, but at the door he turned and said, ‘Tell you what, I’ll take you for a spin on me motorbike on Saturday afternoon.’
Before Maisie could answer, Anna said swiftly, ‘Oh no. She’s not going on that. Not at the speeds you go. And don’t deny it, Tony, ’cos we can hear you from here roaring through the lanes. One of these day’s you’ll come a real cropper off that bike.’
‘Oh mam, please . . .’
‘No.’
‘I’ll be very careful,’ Tony said. ‘I promise.’
‘Please, mam. Just once. Just for my birthday.’
Anna still looked doubtful, but relented. ‘All right then. But you’re not to take her far. You promise not to go too fast?’
‘I promise.’
Maisie clapped her hands and rushed to hug her mother. ‘Oh, thank you, Mam. Thank you, Tony.’ She turned from her mother and flung her arms about his neck and kissed his cheek. Tony’s face flamed and he pushed her away, but in her excitement Maisie did not notice. ‘What time shall I be ready and what shall I wear?’
‘Er – oh – whatever you like.’ His face like thunder, Tony dragged open the door and was gone, slamming it behind him.
For a moment both Maisie and Anna stared at the closed door. Then the girl turned and looked at her mother, with wide, troubled eyes. ‘What did I do, Mam? What did I do?’
Slowly, Anna shook her head. ‘I don’t know, love. I really don’t know.’
On the Saturday afternoon, dressed in trousers, a thick jumper and warm coat and scarf, Maisie waited for Tony. And she waited and waited. As dusk fell, she said tearfully, ‘He’s not coming, is he?’
‘Doesn’t look like it, love.’
‘Have you said anything to him? Have you put him off?’
Anna shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t. I admit I did think about it, ’cos I’m a bit worried about him taking you . . .’
‘That’s it, then,’ Maisie snapped, pulling off her gloves. ‘That’ll be why he hasn’t come. He knows you’re not for it.’ Then she added bitterly, ‘And she won’t be either.’
‘No, she won’t,’ Anna said, her tone surprisingly mild. ‘But I wouldn’t have thought he’d’ve told her.’
Maisie climbed the ladder to her room and tore off her clothes. She switched on her wireless to play as loudly as possible. Then she threw herself on her bed and lay staring up, dry-eyed, at the wooden rafters of her ceiling.
I won’t cry, she vowed. I won’t let him hurt me. But with Elvis’s deep tones singing ‘Wooden Heart’, she felt the tears welling and trickling down her temples as she lay on her back.
Twenty-Seven
Maisie was out in the fields early the next morning. Two ewes had gone into labour at the same time and Anna could not cope alone.
‘You’ll have to fetch Mr Eddie, Maisie. Go down to the farm and fetch him.’ She paused and added, ‘Or Tony.’
‘I’m not fetching him,’ the girl replied moodily, ‘but I’ll go for Mr Eddie.’
‘Just go, Maisie. Get someone, else we’ll likely lose one of them.’
Maisie ran.
Tony was in the yard, swilling out the pigsty.
‘Where’s your dad?’ Maisie asked, panting hard from running all the way up the track and down to the farmyard.
‘He’s taken Mam into town. You’ve heard of her sister, Lucy, haven’t you?’
Anna nodded.
‘Well, her sister’s husband’s very ill. He’s had a seizure, Mam calls it, so she’s gone to stay for a few days.’
When Duke had got too old to pull the trap any more he’d been ‘retired’ to the meadow and Eddie had invested in a small truck. But Bertha could not drive, so Eddie now had to take her wherever she wanted to go.
‘’Cos you needn’t think I’m going on them buses. Not with all them nosy parkers. You can take me, Eddie. Every Thursday.’
‘Course I will, love,’ Eddie had agreed readily. He quite enjoyed a day’s peace at home when Bertha visited her sister, even if he did have to make two trips into town, to take her in the morning and fetch her home at night.
Today, however, there was an emergency and Lucy had sent a telegram asking Bertha to go at once.
‘You’ll have to come then,’ Maisie said now. ‘Two ewes have gone into labour and Mam needs some help.’
Tony dropped the yard brush. ‘Right. Come on then.’
They hurried back up the track, Tony loping alongside her with easy strides. ‘I don’t know why me dad doesn’t bring as many as he can down into the big barn. He did in forty-seven.’ He glanced at her. ‘The year you were born in all that snow. But he likes sticking to the old-fashioned way. Now, if it was me, I’d build a big barn to house ’em all every lambing time. But no. “What was good enough for me dad is good enough for me,” he ses.’
Maisie glanced at Tony. He was back to his usual self this morning. ‘What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come and take me out on the bike like you promised?’
Immediately, there was a wary look on his face. ‘Sorry,’ he said curtly. ‘It – it was getting the telegram from me auntie.’
She recognized it for what it was. An excuse.
‘How very convenient.’ Maisie could not stop the remark and when Tony did not answer, she knew that she had hit the mark. They hurried on side by side, but now neither of them spoke.
With Tony’s help, there were no problems and two healthy lambs came into the world. Anna, Maisie and Tony were standing together in the field watching the new mothers when they heard the sound of Eddie’s truck drawing into the yard.
‘Come on,’ Tony said. ‘Come down to the farm. Mam’s left enough food to feed an army for a week. Come and have dinner with us.’
Anna shook her head. ‘Oh
no. It wouldn’t be right. Knowing how your mother feels about me. About us.’
‘Well, I’m going,’ Maisie said, beginning to walk away. ‘I want to tell Mr Eddie he’s got two lambs.’
‘Come on,’ Tony coaxed. ‘It’ll be all right. And then I’ll take Maisie out on me bike this afternoon.’
Anna eyed him speculatively, said nothing, but began to follow him down to the farm.
‘Now, isn’t this grand?’
Eddie was beaming from ear to ear as he spread the table with a snowy cloth and got out the cutlery from the drawer. ‘She left a joint of beef in the oven that we can cut at for the week. It’ll be done now. And there’s veg to heat up. Isn’t this grand?’
Anna had stepped nervously into the kitchen. This was the first time she had been inside the farmhouse since the night of her arrival. It had taken her a few moments to feel that she could even stay. She still wasn’t quite comfortable being in Bertha’s home, but she was smiling now as she helped to lay the table, guessing that this was probably the first time Eddie Appleyard had played host in his own home. Bertha never invited guests. As far as Anna was aware, even Lucy and her husband had never visited the farm. As they all sat down together, Anna said, ‘Well, this is a feast and no mistake.’
‘Tuck in, Maisie lass, tuck in. If you’re off out on that moteybike this afternoon, you’ll need summat to warm you up.’
Maisie glanced at Tony, who smiled and nodded. ‘Yeah. Sorry about yesterday, but we’ll go after dinner.’
Maisie, ready to forgive him anything, grinned back.
The wind whipped through her hair and stung her cheeks as Maisie wrapped her arms around Tony’s waist and clung to him.
Looking over his shoulder, she watched the lane rushing towards them and disappearing beneath the bike’s wheels. Laughing, she shouted in his ear, ‘Faster, Tony, faster.’
On a perfectly straight piece of lane, Tony opened up the throttle and the bike leapt forward. Maisie screamed with delight.
At the end of the lane, he slowed, turned round and roared off again back the way they had come. When they returned to the farm, they were both red-faced and laughing. But Anna was waiting for them in the yard, her arms akimbo.
‘So much for your promises, Tony Appleyard. We could hear you from here. I might not know much about motorbikes, but I know when one’s going too fast.’
‘It was only on Long Lane. On the straight.’
‘Mebbe. But there’s hills and dips in the lane. What if something had been coming the other way?’
‘There wasn’t.’ Tony was getting angry now as Maisie climbed off the pillion and he flung his leg over the bike and propped it up on its stand. He faced Anna squarely. His voice was quiet, but deadly serious. ‘Do you really think I’d risk hurting her? Maisie? Of all people?’ Then, slapping his gloves together he marched away from them and into the house, leaving both Anna and Maisie staring after him. The one with growing dread in her heart, the other feeling as if she was about to burst with happiness.
In the summer of the following year, Maisie sat her O levels and, as a special treat, Anna allowed her to attend one of the village dances with her friends to celebrate the end of the exams.
‘But don’t think this is a regular thing because it isn’t.’
Maisie hugged her. ‘No, Mam. I won’t.’
Pat, who had been canvassing relentlessly on the girl’s behalf for the past year, listened to the exchange. ‘I’ll take you into town on Saturday on the bus and buy you a pretty skirt, Maisie. You know, one of those wide ones with lots of petticoats underneath. And some nice shoes for you to dance in.’
‘Oh now, I don’t know about that,’ Anna began. ‘It’d be a waste. Like I say, this is a one off . . .’
‘Oh please, Mam,’ Maisie begged.
Anna sighed. ‘We’ll see. Now, take Buster out and round up the lambs. The lorry’s coming for them tomorrow.’
Maisie’s face fell. She hated it when the lambs were taken to market.
As the girl closed the door behind her, Anna said, ‘It’s very generous of you, Pat but, honestly, she won’t get the chance to wear such clothes.’
‘She’ll get plenty of chance when she goes away to college.’
‘What?’ Anna screeched. ‘She’s not going anywhere. She’ll stay here with me and work on the farm. Eddie has already said . . .’
Pat sat down at the table without waiting for an invitation. ‘Eddie will say anything to keep you here. To keep you both here.’
Anna stared at her and sank slowly into the chair opposite. ‘Oh Pat,’ she said sadly, ‘not you too. You don’t think there’s something between me and Eddie.’
‘No, I don’t. I believe you. But have you ever stopped to think that Eddie maybe feels very differently? That maybe he would like there to be something between you? He doesn’t have a very happy home life, y’know.’
Anna was silent, remembering the scratches on Eddie’s face when she had first come here and, over the years, the odd bruise on his cheek. Even a black eye once or twice. And when these happened, Tony would stay away from the cottage for days, even weeks sometimes. Anna would guess that there had been a row between Eddie and his wife, and doubtless the cause had been her continued presence in the cottage. If so, it would throw Tony once more into a conflict of emotions – torn between his parents.
‘I know,’ she said flatly, ‘and it’s my fault. I should have gone years ago. I – we – shouldn’t have stayed.’
‘It’s nobody’s fault but Bertha’s. It’s certainly not yours, ducky, so don’t even think it. He’d’ve had a rough time with her whether you were here or not.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘I know so. Anyway, we were talking about Maisie and her career.’
‘You were.’
‘She’s a bright lass and ought to be given a chance. She wants to be a teacher and—’
Anna stared at Pat incredulously. ‘She’s told you that?’
Pat nodded. ‘Well, yes. I thought you knew.’
Anna shook her head and said slowly and thoughtfully. ‘No. She’s said nothing to me.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve given her the chance. You’ve just decided that she’s got to bury herself away here and—’
Anna sprang up and began to pace about the room. ‘You don’t understand. I’ve got to keep her safe.’
‘She’s a sensible girl. She – she knows the facts of life,’ Pat said, carefully avoiding referring to the unfortunate way in which the girl had learnt them. ‘If I had to put money on any of the youngsters around here not going off the rails, it would be your Maisie.’
The compliment did not ease Anna’s agitation. ‘You don’t understand,’ she repeated. ‘It’s not Maisie herself that’s the problem. It’s – it’s other people.’
‘What other people? Her peers, you mean?’
Anna shook her head. ‘I can’t risk us – being – found.’ Then, as always when the conversation came close to matters from the past, Anna clamped her mouth shut and refused to say more.
Pat heaved herself up. ‘Well, if you won’t confide in me, I can’t help you. But after all these years, surely you’ve nothing to fear now. It’s sixteen years, for heaven’s sake. You can’t still be frightened about your family – or whoever it was – coming after you? You’re not still hiding from the past, are you? Not after all this time. Surely, they’ll forgive and forget by now?’
Anna swung round, her magnificent eyes sparkling with bitterness and hatred. She almost spat the words out. ‘Oh, you don’t know the half of it. It’s me that can’t forgive and forget. Me! Don’t you understand?’
‘How can I, ducky,’ Pat said sadly, ‘when you won’t even tell me what happened?’
Anna turned away from her and, through gritted teeth, all she said was, ‘No, and I don’t intend to either. So leave it, Pat, will you? Else you and me are going to fall out.’
Twenty-Eight
‘Well, you’ve
been and now you know what it’s like. Not all it’s cracked up to be, I bet. I expect you were a wallflower for most of the evening. So don’t be asking to go any more.’
Maisie gaped at her mother. She had never heard Anna speak so scathingly. Not all it’d been cracked up to be! The village dance had been everything and more that Maisie could have possibly imagined.
Tony had taken her into the village, not on his motorbike but in his father’s truck. When they arrived outside the hall, he got out and opened the door for her, just as if she was royalty. ‘In you go then. Have a good time. I’ll pick you up at eleven.’
‘Aren’t you coming in?’ Her disappointment was obvious.
Through the darkness she heard his chuckle. ‘I reckon I’m a bit old for the village hop now. I’ll leave it to you youngsters.’
‘Don’t be silly. Of course you’re not old. Auntie Pat still goes sometimes. She told me.’ Maisie put her hand through his arm and tried to pull him towards the door. ‘Please come in, Tony. You can go if you don’t like it. But – but please just come in with me.’
Tony glanced down at the girl. In the light from the doorway, he could see that she was biting her lip nervously.
‘All right then. Just for a bit, eh? But I can’t do all this fancy jiving stuff.’
Maisie giggled. ‘Neither can I.’
‘Wait while I park the truck.’
She stood near the doorway whilst Tony moved the vehicle a little way down the road and parked it on the grass verge.
‘You goin’ to stand out here all night?’ Chris Wainwright, Joe’s son, swaggered past her on his way in. He was dressed in tight trousers – drainpipes – and a long jacket, which almost reached his knees, and thick-soled suede shoes. His black hair was greased into a hairstyle like Elvis’s. But there, sadly, the resemblance ended. Chris had a large, almost hooked nose and a spotty face. But he had other redeeming features. He was nice. He wasn’t a bully or unkind and Maisie liked him. She grinned at him. ‘I’m waiting for Tony.’
Chris’s smile wavered as he said, ‘Oh. He’s coming, is he?’
Red Sky in the Morning Page 20
