Like Father, Like Son

by Diane Allen

  ‘Aye, if tha wants to come, you can join us. I think we might just let you.’ Edmund grinned at his wife. ‘What do you say, Polly? Do you think she’ll be any good at picking us a lamb?’

  Polly smiled. There was often a bit of banter around the supper table, so she knew how far to go when she answered. ‘Aye, go on, then we can buy two, in case the one my mother buys dies.’

  ‘I’ll give you bloody “die”. I was looking after and rearing sheep before you were even born!’ Ada flicked the tea-towel around Polly’s ear softly. ‘Now, let’s get some water warming on that fire and give you a bath. I’m not taking you into Hawes looking like that mucky family from further down t’ dale. I’ve my pride, and so should you have, Miss Harper. Father, when you’ve finished your supper, get the tin bath out from the outhouse and make yourself scarce for half an hour. Our Polly’s getting too old for you to wander around or sit in the kitchen while she baths in front of the fire.’

  ‘Do I have to, Mother? I’m not that mucky.’ Polly hated the exposure of being naked in the kitchen, for she was always aware that anyone could walk in through the kitchen door and see her with nothing on. Lately she had been more aware of her feminine figure and the changes that she’d undergone in previous years, and felt awkward about her new body.

  ‘Yes, you do – you could grow potatoes in the muck around your neck. I want you to help with the shopping, so I’m not taking a mucky tomboy around with me. I need some supplies from Sam Allen’s, and I’m not having his hoity mother looking at us like we are a piece of dirt on her shoe.’

  ‘Now, Mother, she’s no better than the rest of us. She’s just forgotten where she’s come from. I remember when they hadn’t a ha’penny to rub together. It was the building of the railway that made them. Old Elijah saw a good opportunity in supplying the navvies, and went for it, and you can’t knock him for that.’ Edmund belched loudly and rose from the table. ‘I’ll get this bath then. What’s up with your supper, Mother? Tha’s not eaten anything.’ He nodded at the still-full plate, as Polly cleared the table.

  ‘I don’t feel like eating, that’s all. Bacon and tatties isn’t one of my favourites, and this year our home-cured bacon’s a bit fatty for me.’ Ada reached out for the empty kettle and pan and put them under the cold-water tap that Polly was just starting to run, before washing up.

  ‘As long as that’s all. Tha looks a bit white to me. Go and put your feet up. Polly will bath herself. She’s not a baby now, you know – she’s sixteen, a grown woman. And you’re right. The old pig last year was fed too well, so we’ll have to keep her leaner for less-fatty bacon this year.’ Edmund looked at his wife. She looked tired, and he knew how her heart hurt: sixteen years of not knowing if your son was alive or dead was a hard burden to carry. It had been Polly’s disappearance that had made her fretful, but the lass were growing up. There’d be a man in her life before long – there was bound to be, with her good looks. And then she’d want a family of her own. Ada would have to accept it and make the best of it, for she must realize the day was coming. He went into the outhouse and came back with the galvanized tin bath, putting it down in front of the fire. ‘I’ll go and have a camp with Len down in The Street, see what gossip he has.’

  ‘Don’t you be coming home blathered. He always tempts you with his drop of whisky, does that one.’ Ada bustled past him with a towel in her hand.

  ‘Nay, I’ll not be doing that. I’ll just see what he knows and then wander back. See you in a bit, ladies.’ Edmund dipped his head before going through the low doorstead.

  ‘It’ll be first time ever he comes back from Len’s walking straight, if he does.’ Ada tipped the boiling water from the kettle into the tin bath. ‘Now come on, lady, put some cold water in here and get into your bath, and I’ll have forty winks in the parlour. I don’t know why you’ve decided to come over all shy. There’s nowt there I haven’t seen before.’

  Polly sighed. A bath on her own. Finally they’d realized how old she was. She put the washed dishes away into the Welsh dresser that stood against the main wall of the kitchen, and then poured the near-boiling pan of water into the bath, followed by a pan of cold water from the tap. She ran her hand in the steaming water of the bath: it was just right. On the side of the chair next to the fireplace Ada had placed the clean towel and a bar of carbolic soap, and over the wooden airing rack suspended from the ceiling hung a clean flannelette nightdress, in readiness for a cleaner Polly.

  She slipped out of her clothes and shivered as she stood naked in the farmhouse’s kitchen and tested the water with her toe, before lowering her young body into the warmth. The water’s depth only reached halfway up her thigh, but it was warm and refreshing and, to be honest, she had needed a bath. She lay back and enjoyed the warmth of the water and the heat from the open fire, gently washing herself with the towel flannel and soap. Her thoughts wandered back to Tobias. She’d never been interested in a man before, but his dramatic good looks had got her feeling something she’d never experienced before. She closed her eyes and pictured his smile.

  ‘Are you all right in there? You’ve gone quiet,’ Ada yelled through from the parlour.

  ‘Yes, Mam, just scrubbing myself clean,’ Polly shouted back.

  Just trying to forget Tobias Middleton, she thought to herself. But I don’t know if I really want to, her heart replied.

  3

  The centre of Hawes was busy with market stalls, livestock and traders. Tuesday was the main market day, when all the Dales folk from Wensleydale and the surrounding districts came and got their shopping or bought and sold livestock. Outside the Crown Hotel and up to Townhead the cobbled pavements were filled with pens of sheep, tethered cows and wooden crates of clucking hens or geese. Further down the street, market traders and farmers’ wives called out, selling fruit and vegetables, butter and cream, and home-baking ingredients.

  ‘By heck, it’s busy today, Father.’ Ada held onto the side of the cart next to Edmund and looked down the street at the throng of people. ‘Morning, Mrs Bentham. Morning, Agnes!’ Ada shouted greetings at friends and neighbours, while Edmund acknowledged his friends with a tip of the head, or a gesture from his finger just tipping his cap. ‘We’ll go down to the butcher’s first, then I need some cotton. And then, our Polly, you can come and help me carry what I want from Sam Allen’s.’ She turned round to give Polly, in the back of the donkey cart, her orders.

  ‘But, Mum . . . I wanted to go with my father,’ Polly whined.

  ‘You’re right. Our Pol, go with your mother. I’ve a bit of business to do, before I look for a lamb.’ Edmund skilfully drove his horse into a vacant space, to be tethered just outside the Crown Hotel. ‘I’ll meet you both here, outside the Crown, in thirty to forty minutes.’

  ‘Would this business have anything to do with lifting your right arm, by any chance?’ asked Ada to Edmund, as she climbed down from the cart.

  ‘It’s nowt to do with you, woman. Anyway, no doubt you’ll be led astray by some of your old gossips. At least I find my news out in one spot, instead of chattering the length of Hawes.’ Edmund tied the horse up securely and grinned at both Ada and Polly as they brushed their skirts down, before setting about their business. He knew forty minutes would be more like an hour and a half, by the time Ada had been in and out of the shops and had caught up with all the gossip. He watched as both of them strutted off down the busy street, not going any further than five yards before sharing some juicy morsel of news.

  ‘She’s growing up, is your lass, Edmund.’ Len Brunskill slapped his lifelong friend across his back as he joined Edmund, and they both mounted the steps into the Crown.

  ‘Aye, she is. I can’t believe she’s sixteen. It doesn’t seem five minutes since Bernard Dinsdale brought her under his coat in a snowstorm. I didn’t think we’d see her grow up, but both Ada and me are keeping fairly well. Aches and pains, but nothing to really complain about.’ Edmund stepped up to the bar and winked at the serving lass. ‘Pint, is it,
Len?’

  ‘Aye, go on then, you’ve twisted my arm.’ Len waited until both had been served, and then sat down in a quiet corner before he told his best mate his news. ‘Well, you’re doing better than Bernard Dinsdale, Edmund. I heard tell that he died, last week in his sleep, so Polly’s brother has no father. Now, what Dora and the lad will do, I don’t know? He’s a bit young for taking on Lamb Paddock, where they live, and it will barely make them a living. It’s not the biggest farm, up Cowgill.’

  ‘Aye, that’s bad news that you tell me, Len. I’ve never seen him since the night he brought Polly. I suppose he didn’t want anything to do with us bringing all that grief to his door. But he wasn’t a bad man. He’s brought the lad up like his own, as we have Polly, and neither child knows any different than that we are their parents. It’s for the best.’ Edmund took a long sup from his pint glass and slammed it down. He was silently cursing Danny. He’d still not forgiven him for the grief he’d caused, on his disappearance.

  ‘Have you still no word from your lad?’ Len felt for his old schoolmate, for he was a good man and had stood by his commitments.

  ‘Not a bloody word, from that day to this. We don’t even know if he’s alive. It’s Ada I feel for. Some days you can tell she grieves for him. It would even be better if we knew he was dead – at least we could put closure on him. But we know nowt.’

  ‘Aye, Edmund, I’m sorry. These bloody children, you bring ’em up best you can, but you still don’t know what they’re going to turn out like. You’ll have heard that Dick Cooper’s lad is trying to throw Dick out of his own farm, because he wants it for himself?’

  ‘Never heard a thing, though it wouldn’t surprise me. They think everything you’ve got is theirs, and bugger how long it’s taken you to earn it.’ Edmund shook his head and drank another sup.

  ‘Here, drink up. I’ll get next ones in, and I’ll tell you all about it. Your women will be ages yet. Besides, there’s a new stallholder down the far end, and he’s selling lace and cotton and all the rubbish that women like.’ Len winked as Edmund drained his glass dry and then wiped his lips on his sleeve.

  ‘Aye, go on, we’ll just have another. Old Clover knows her way home and, besides, Polly can handle her, if I sit in the back of the cart.’

  ‘Just look at this, Polly, isn’t that the bonniest piece of lace you’ve ever seen? So delicate.’ Ada ran the intricate piece of lace between her fingers and showed it to Polly, who wasn’t in the least bit interested.

  ‘It’s Nottingham lace, madam, made especially for me, in the homes of a group of ladies that excel in their skills. It would look beautiful around the edge of a handkerchief, or perhaps on a collar on a spectacular dress, for your beautiful young daughter.’ The stallholder smiled a sickly grin at Polly and, as she looked at him, she couldn’t help but be reminded of a fox showing its teeth before killing its prey.

  ‘How much is it?’ Ada fumbled for her purse from underneath the sausage and rolled brisket that she’d just bought at the butcher’s.

  ‘To you, madam, one shilling. Would madam like any ribbons, thread, pins?’ The Fox, as Polly had now called him, waved his hands over his stall of goods, lingering over the gaily tartan ribbon that Ada was eyeing next.

  ‘A yard of that tartan ribbon and all, and then that’s it.’

  ‘One shilling and sixpence, please, madam.’ The Fox measured out the tartan ribbon along a wooden rule, snipping it off with his shears – just like the snip of his teeth – as he pocketed the coins from Ada.

  ‘Well, he was a pleasant man. I think you took his eye, our Polly,’ exclaimed Ada as they made their way across from his stall to the shop doorway of Sam Allen’s.

  ‘I didn’t like him, Mother, he reminded me of a fox.’

  ‘You are a funny lass. How can he look like a fox? Sometimes, Polly, your imagination runs away with you.’ The doorbell jingled as they entered Sam Allen’s grocery shop.

  ‘Morning, Mrs Harper. Morning, Polly.’ Sam Allen smiled at two of his regular customers as he stood waiting for their order over his spotlessly polished counter.

  ‘Morning, Sam, can you put this order together, please? It isn’t a big one; just one or two things we’ve run out of.’ Ada passed Sam her shopping order across the counter, and he went about the business of putting the order together.

  Polly stood next to her mother and waited. She loved the smell of Sam Allen’s. It was a mixture that fused with her senses: the smell of freshly ground coffee, a real luxury that she had never tried; freshly baked bread; and, in the far corner, paraffin, which reminded her of last spring’s chicks, which she had reared around a paraffin heater for warmth.

  ‘Everything all right, up at Paradise? Have you started lambing yet? At least the weather’s decent.’ Sam was making conversation as he worked his way through the list.

  ‘Aye, we’ve started lambing – that’s why we’re here. Edmund wants to see if anybody has a spare pet lamb. One old ewe lost hers yesterday. He wants to mother one onto her.’ Ada watched as Sam weighed six pounds of flour out of the huge flour bins and folded it up into a crisp, new brown-paper bag.

  ‘He’ll get one. I heard some bleating coming from the pens this morning, and Mrs Blades from over Buttertubs was in earlier, telling me there’s a lot of triplets being born this year. I suppose, if they are an old ewe, they can’t manage to feed three.’ Sam checked the list against what was in front of him. ‘Is that all then, Mrs Harper?’

  ‘Aye, that’s grand. What do I owe you?’

  Sam passed her the list with the prices next to each item, and the total at the bottom.

  ‘Price of sugar’s gone up, Sam. I’m sure it wasn’t that last month.’ Ada counted her money out and handed it over to a blushing Sam.

  ‘Aye, well, I can’t control price of sugar. It’s something we don’t grow in this country. Everything keeps going up, I’m afraid.’ Sam placed his money in the till and passed some of the groceries to Polly and the rest to Ada. ‘Here, I’ll get you the door, seeing as your hands are full.’ He rushed to open the door, allowing Ada and Polly right of way out of the shop. Just as they left, Tobias Middleton met them in the doorway.

  ‘Tobias, your mother’s in the back, with my father. She’ll be glad to see you.’ Sam stopped Tobias in his tracks, to allow Ada and Polly out of the shop.

  Polly’s heart missed a beat. It was him again, and there she was, with her arms filled with shopping.

  ‘Good morning, Polly from Paradise. I see your hands are full. May I help you?’ Tobias smiled at the blushing young woman, and then realized that her mother did not look at all happy with his offer.

  ‘We are fine, thank you, Mr Middleton. We can manage quite well on our own. Come on, Polly, follow me.’ Ada stepped out with determination, without looking round at Polly, expecting her to follow.

  Polly looked up at Tobias and gave him a slight smile. He was so handsome.

  ‘Polly – now!’ Ada stopped in her tracks and waited for Polly to follow her, watching as Tobias Middleton removed his hat to her. Polly’s comments about the stallholder came back to haunt Ada. Now that was a fox, and Polly was the chicken!

  ‘How does he know you? You want nowt flashing your eyes at the lad. He doesn’t come from much. He might own Grouse Hall and a few more farms, but his father was a wrong ’un, and he’s like him because he has his looks. As for his mother – well, she married Sam Allen just to get her hands on his shop. She wasn’t even married when she had Tobias.’

  ‘I met him on my walk over to Mallerstang. We just exchanged pleasantries. So, Mother, you do know him?’ Polly nearly had to run to keep up with Ada as she stepped out across the street.

  ‘Aye, me and your father know him. He was treated no better than a dog when he was a lad, until his mother claimed him, after the death of his father. And now he’s worth a bit of money and thinks himself something, with his fancy waistcoats and posh ways. You listen to my words, Polly Harper: keep away, for he’ll only bring hear
tache, and you can do better than that for a man.’

  Ada and Polly reached the horse and cart and deposited the groceries in the back.

  ‘I see your father isn’t here. He’ll still be inside with his old cronies.’ Ada nodded at the Crown. ‘Damn, I’ve forgotten the cotton I wanted! Polly, run back to that stall and get me a bobbin of white cotton, while I stir your father. I thought we’d come for a pet lamb, not a drinking session.’ Ada passed Polly some coins and pulled her skirts up, as she climbed the steps into the Crown. ‘Mind you don’t talk to anybody, especially that Tobias.’

  Polly looked at the money in her hand. She’d not go back to the stall, as she didn’t like the man that had served them. She’d go to the draper’s next door to Sam Allen’s. That way she could dally a little outside the shop window, just in case Tobias was there. What did her mother know? Tobias might not be like his father; and if he was, he couldn’t have been all bad! She rushed across the street and entered the draper’s, quickly asking for what she wanted, then glanced across at the horse and cart to make sure her parents weren’t waiting for her. All clear! Polly gazed into the full windows of Sam Allen’s, trying to peer between the advertising posters and jars of sweets in the window, but there was no sign of Tobias in the shop, just of women going about their daily shop. She sighed and hung her head, before crossing the street back to the horse and cart just in time to catch her mother and father coming out of the Crown.

  ‘Give over, woman, I’ve only had a couple. To hear you talk, you’d think I’d drunk the beck dry.’ Edmund was standing his ground while Ada chastised him for drinking more than he should.

  ‘That Len Brunskill always was a bad influence on you. I can never forgive him for making you late on our wedding day.’ Ada never forgot anything.

  ‘That was forty years ago, woman, and it wasn’t his fault. My horse threw a shoe and went lame – nowt to do with Len! Anyway, are you two done? Let’s be away and buy this pet lamb.’ Edmund strode out up the street, with Polly and Ada following him, without waiting for Ada to answer back.