Like Father, Like Son

by Diane Allen

  ‘Don’t worry – I won’t. I don’t even like it. I’m only drinking it because Maggie gave it to me.’ Polly nearly had to shout above the sound of the people dancing and the music, and Matt leaned nearer to hear what she was saying. It was the closest she had ever been to a man, besides her family, and she felt her heart flutter as he shouted in her ear.

  ‘Do you want to dance? I’ve two left feet, but you can’t go wrong with a waltz.’

  Polly nodded her head and stood up, holding Matt’s hand tight, and he put his arm around her waist. ‘I’ve two left feet as well,’ she apologized, as the first few steps were taken and toes were stood upon. She ran her hand over Matt’s shoulder and smelt the familiar scent of the washing soap that his mother must have used to wash his shirt, and wondered what his home was like. She felt like a princess in his arms, and he was her prince, as they made their way around the dance floor of the market hall. Matt’s arms were strong and his voice gentle and, contrary to his confession of not being able to dance, it was like being whisked around the room on a cloud. He kept smiling at her, and Polly blushed at his every word as one dance followed another. She could dance to anything, with him on her arm; and dance all night, if she had to. Polly cared nothing for the crowd that was watching them, as they waltzed and foxtrotted the hours away. She was enjoying herself with Matt, and that was all that mattered.

  Out of the corner of her eye, as she floated around the hall, she noticed the unmistakable face of Tobias Middleton. His brooding stare watched her as she danced a circle of the hall, happy in the arms of Matt. Polly’s heart sank as she saw the frown on his forehead when she twirled past him, and saw on the next lap that he had disappeared. She tried to smile at Matt as he whispered something in her ear, but her heart felt heavy. Tobias held a spell on her, whether he knew it or not, and even Matt’s safe arms could not break it.

  ‘Polly, I have to go. I promised my grandmother to be home by eleven. She’ll be waiting for me, and she’ll only worry if I’m not on time,’ Matt whispered in her ear as the music ended, only for it to start up again with another, louder number. He held her hand tight and lingered a bit, before relinquishing his hold on her fingertips. ‘Will you be all right? I can’t see Maggie. Happen she’s in the ladies’ room.’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ Polly could have cried. Up until that moment she had hoped to see the night out by dancing with Matt, and now she was left the wallflower again. And as for Maggie, she’d hardly seen her all evening.

  ‘I’ll have to go, Pol. My grandmother’s on her own, and she’ll no doubt worry. I’ll see you at work on Monday.’

  ‘Yes, you go. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.’ Polly squeezed his hand in thanks and smiled at the beautiful blue eyes that she’d gazed into all night.

  ‘See you then. Behave yourself.’ Matt grinned and then pushed his way through the dancing crowd, leaving Polly standing alone in the corner of the dance hall.

  She’d expected a kiss on the cheek at least, or would that have been too daring for a first night? She put her head down, feeling a tear welling up, as she felt abandoned. Stupid woman, she said to herself, get on with it and get yourself another drink. You hardly know Matt, so why should he stay with you until the end of the dance? She looked at the doorway, half-hoping for Tobias to be standing there, beckoning her to join him in a dance. She sighed, feeling like such a hussy; she was going from the arms of one man and hoping to be held in another’s. Her mother would be ashamed of her.

  ‘Some friend you are, dancing with Matt all night. I saw you making eyes at him, when you know I fancied him something rotten. Besides, you can’t have . . . ’ Maggie pulled on her arm, as Polly helped herself to another small drink of punch from the nearly empty serving bowl. Maggie’s words drifted away on the air as the band played louder.

  ‘You were dancing with Tom Beresford. Besides, Matt and me are only friends – there’s nothing in it.’ Polly looked at her red-faced friend; Maggie’s complexion matched her hair, and there was spite in her voice.

  ‘Nah, you did it to get back at me, for not working in my father’s poxy shop. I watched you, all lovey-dovey, smiling at one another. You needn’t think you are coming home with me tonight. You can go to his place to sleep.’ Maggie was angry with jealousy and drink, and her eyes blazed as she pushed Polly’s arm off hers.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Maggie, I’m coming home with you. Where else can I go?’

  ‘To hell, perhaps. Now bugger off and leave me alone.’ Maggie wasn’t listening to sense, as she struggled to walk straight across the dance hall.

  Polly watched as Maggie went up onto the stage and pulled on Tom Beresford’s sleeve to join her. He didn’t take much persuading, and she walked out of the dance hall on his arm. She looked around the dance hall. People were staring at her, wondering what the commotion was about. What a night!

  And now where was she to go? She looked up at the huge clock face that hung on the wall of the whitewashed hall. It was a quarter to midnight. She didn’t want to see the last dance, with no one on her arm and no bed to go to. It was time to go home. She’d walk back home – the moon was bright enough to see her way back down into Grisedale. It would only take an hour to walk back down the dale.

  She went past the couples dancing and made her way down the steps, giving a backward glance at the market hall as she walked through the street of Hawes. Leaning against the outside of the market hall she could see her friend Maggie in a tight embrace with Tom Beresford, his hands placed where no honourable man would place them. No good would come of that night’s work, Polly was sure of it.

  Climbing up out of Hawes, she stood for a moment and listened to the floating lyrics of ‘After the Ball is Over’ and thought how true they were, as she hummed the next line: ‘Many a heart is broken, after the ball.’ At least she now knew that Maggie was no friend, or at least not to be trusted when she’d had a drink. She bent down and took her tightly laced heeled shoes off. She could walk faster without heels on her feet. The dark shape of Stagg’s Fell stood in front of her, and an owl hooted as she hummed to herself to keep her spirits up. It was darker than she had expected and there was a sneaky chill in the air. Perhaps she should turn back and go and knock on Maggie’s parents’ door? But pride and stubbornness set in. No, she wasn’t going to be treated like that. She’d walk home, no matter what; she would not go snivelling to Maggie Sunter. She picked up her skirts, rubbed her feet and set out, more determined now. It was just as she approached the halfway houses that she heard the sound of horses coming down the road. She stood to one side to let them and their rider past.

  ‘Whoa there!’ a voice called out to the pair of horses that were pulling a dimly lit carriage. It pulled up next to Polly, causing the dust from the dry road to catch in her throat. The carriage door flew open and the driver alighted.

  ‘I saw you at the dance. But why are you walking home on your own, at this time of night?’ Tobias Middleton stood next to her, blending into the night as if he belonged to it.

  ‘I didn’t see you. I didn’t know you were there.’ Polly coughed, trying to hide her lie. For the second time she felt herself vulnerable and alone in the presence of Tobias.

  ‘Clearly you didn’t, as you only had eyes for the young man you were dancing with. I left to go and have a drink at the Crown, I was so disappointed to see you in his arms. He, however, can’t be a gentleman, else he wouldn’t let you walk this road at this time of night.’

  ‘He is a gentleman, but he had to go home to his grandmother. And Maggie, my friend, was jealous and wouldn’t let me stop at her house. That’s why I’m walking home.’

  ‘Well, it’s not safe for you to be on this road at this time of night. Let me take you home. Get in the carriage.’ Tobias held out his hand to Polly.

  Polly hesitated, not wanting to be rude by saying no. But the rumours about Tobias’s father were still strong in the dale, and it was said that Tobias had surely inherited his ways.

  ‘
I’m fine, thank you. I’ll make my own way home,’ she said politely.

  ‘What, with no light, no shoes on your feet and another good three miles to walk, and plenty of drunken fools roaming the roads? Do you think that wise?’ Tobias stood and held his horse’s reins, waiting for an answer.

  ‘I prefer to walk.’ Polly picked up her skirt and started to walk past the side of the impatient horses.

  ‘Then I’ll walk with you. It will give us time to become acquainted. And perhaps, by then, I will have convinced you not to believe the wagging tongues of the local gossips and you’ll find me the perfect gentleman. Perhaps you’ll realize that I just want to know you as a friend.’ Tobias pulled on the lead horse and walked beside Polly.

  ‘You are impossible! You needn’t walk all the way home with me. And I don’t listen to gossip. I’ve learned that it is only half-true, no matter what anyone says.’ Polly stopped in her tracks.

  ‘Only half-true, Miss Harper? Well, how about I whisk you away – home, may I hasten to add. And leave out of tonight having my evil way with you. You know, I really don’t take after my father, no matter what people say.’ Tobias smiled and held out his hand for Polly to climb into his carriage.

  In the dim light of the carriage Polly saw Tobias’s smile and realized that, no matter what she said, he was going to see her home – safely, she hoped.

  ‘Very well, I give in. I’ll take you up on your offer of a lift home, but I alight at the bridge. You’ve no need to take me all the way home.’ Polly took his hand and felt her heart flutter as Tobias gently helped her into the carriage, remembering the first time she had met him and seen his dashing good looks.

  ‘Believe me, Polly, I have no wish to meet your father in the cold hours of early morning with a shotgun in his hand, accusing me of abducting his daughter.’ Tobias closed the carriage door. ‘I’ll sit up aloft, and then you’ll know that you are safe. Half an hour and you’ll be home and safe in your bed.’ The carriage swung as Tobias climbed onto the driving seat, and then the team was whipped into action.

  Polly sat back in the darkness of the cab. She could be being taken anywhere, and she wouldn’t have known from the darkness outside. But now she trusted Tobias. She even felt sorry for him. People were so fast to judge you by your family, and he was nothing at all like his father. Still, she wouldn’t tell her parents how she had arrived home. It was best they didn’t know. She’d tell them she’d walked, and suffer the consequences of that.

  Polly opened the kitchen door. The house was silent, the warmth from the banked-up coal fire hitting her as she warmed herself by its light, before climbing up the stairs to bed. Her head was full of the night’s happenings: memories of being swept off her feet by Matt; and of Maggie and her horrid, spiteful ways and her loose morals when it came to Tom Beresford. No wonder men thought of her as a tart. And then of the gallant Tobias, who had saved her aching feet, and perhaps more. She’d edit what she told her parents in the morning. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and it was bad enough she had to say why she was home. She yawned and pulled on her nightdress. It was good to be home. She snuggled down into her feather bed and smiled. Now, which man was the best? No doubt time would tell her, but at that moment her head was filled with thoughts of both of them.

  8

  ‘Aye, that Maggie – she’ll get herself in bother yet.’ Ada listened as Polly told her how Maggie had been the worse for drink, and so she had decided to walk home.

  ‘I don’t think she knew what she was drinking, Mother, that was her problem. She thought it wasn’t an alcoholic punch. Else I’m sure she wouldn’t have been in such a state.’ Polly folded the tea-towel and looked innocent as she tried to excuse her friend’s actions, knowing all too well that Maggie had known what she was doing.

  ‘She’s like her mother. I’m just glad you walked back home, and that you were safe. It was a bit of a daft thing to do, but you came to no harm. You don’t bother with that lass again, do you hear?’

  ‘No, Mother, she went too far this time. It’s a good job she isn’t working with me tomorrow, else it could have been embarrassing. I’ll have to pick up my overnight bag from her house, though, so I’ll have to talk to her.’ Polly felt sick at the thought of having to knock on the door of Bill Sunter’s house, but she needed her few possessions back. ‘I’ll go in my dinner hour.’

  ‘Aye, and if her mother asks why you didn’t stop, tell her straight. Maggie’s not too big to get away from having a good hiding. It’s what she’s been short of.’ Ada sat down and gasped slightly. Just lately she had been feeling under the weather, and a niggling pain down her arm would not go away.

  ‘Are you all right, Mother, you look a bit white?’ Polly watched her mother as she caught her breath and sat back in the kitchen chair.

  ‘Aye, I’m all right. I think I’ve pulled a muscle or something, when I was gardening the other day. I keep getting a pain in my chest and down my arm. Old age, Polly – I forget how old I am. It’ll go in a minute.’ Ada smiled at Polly as she pulled out the stool and placed her mother’s legs on it. ‘You’re a good lass, I don’t know what we’d do without you.’

  ‘You’d be a lot better off, I bet – a lot less worried – if I weren’t about.’ Polly passed her mother a cup of tea and placed it by her side.

  ‘Nay, lass, never say that. You were a shock to us when you landed, but we’d not send you back now.’ Ada smiled and closed her eyes, thinking of the day that Polly had arrived underneath the thick overcoat of Bernard Dinsdale in a snowstorm, while Polly thought of the shock of her mother giving birth when she thought she was well past the age of having children.

  Polly looked at her mother, with her eyes closed. Her grey hair was almost white now and she looked so tired. Lately Ada seemed to have lost her fight. A few months back she would have wanted to know everything about Polly’s night. But this morning she had got off lightly with the inquisition, which she was thankful for.

  Monday morning came quickly, and Polly’s stomach was churning with the thought of the possibility of seeing the fierce Maggie. Adding to her anguish were butterflies at the thought of seeing Matt, after their night of dancing together.

  After entering the dairy’s yard, she climbed down from the cart; she’d given over expecting a hand down from Oliver Simms, and jumped down the last few inches on her own.

  ‘Pol. Pol! Did you have a good night? I’m sorry I left you, but I’d to get home to my grandmother. She doesn’t like being left on her own at the moment – it’s not long since my grandfather died. I live with her, you see.’ Matt came running across the yard, his jacket flapping as he hurried to talk to Polly.

  ‘I had a lovely night, thanks, Matt. You don’t have to explain. You did right to go back to your grandmother. Family is precious. My mother’s not so well at the moment. My father is trying to convince her to go to the doctor tomorrow in Hawes, but she’s not having any of it.’ Polly looked up at Matt, remembering the way he’d held her, and the smell of him as she’d placed her head on his shoulder.

  ‘I’ll make up for it. How about I take you home tonight? I’ll tell Simms I’ll do his evening run. He’ll appreciate a few more hours with his family. I hope your mother’s all right. Your father does right to take her to the doctor.’ Matt held Polly’s hand tight. ‘I’ve thought of nothing else but you all day yesterday. My gran thought I was drunk, because I kept smiling so much.’ His eyes twinkled as he watched Polly blush.

  ‘Polly, have you come to work or to catch up on your social life?’ The voice of Beattie Swaine yelled across the yard for all to hear, making everyone look at the couple in their intimate moment, as their hands parted with reluctance.

  ‘Coming, Miss Swaine.’ Polly looked back as Matt whispered, ‘Tonight, I’ll be waiting’ and then ran quickly through the dairy doors.

  Matt stood watching Polly as she disappeared. It was true; he’d thought of nowt else but the lass in his arms that he’d danced the night away with, and her
long, black hair hanging down her back, cascading onto the emerald green of her swishing dress. The way she smiled, the way she talked . . . He was bewitched and was determined not to lose her to anyone else, ever.

  The morning dragged for Polly. Her arm ached from churning a full churn of milk, and the shop had been so busy, but finally her lunchtime came and she turned the ‘Closed’ sign on the door for her half-hour break. Her stomach told of her nerves as she knocked on the door of Maggie’s house and waited for a reply.

  ‘We wondered if you would have the nerve to show your face on our doorstep, you little hussy.’ Maggie’s mother answered the door and stood on the doorstep making her less-than-cordial greeting. ‘If it had been up to me, Bill would have sacked you this morning. Leaving our Maggie alone all night, after getting her in such a state. If I was your mother, I’d be ashamed of you. Our Maggie’s been sick all yesterday with crying over you.’ Jenny Sunter’s face was fuming. ‘My poor little darling, she doesn’t need friends like you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Sunter, but it wasn’t like that. I think if you ask her again, you’ll find it was more the other way round, and that’s why I walked home.’ Polly wasn’t going to be accused of doing something she didn’t do, no matter how distraught Mrs Sunter was.

  ‘Walked home, walked home – you didn’t walk home. Maggie told me you stopped the night with one of our yardmen, you little slut, leaving her all alone. Here, take your bag of stuff, and don’t bother calling on our Maggie again.’ Jenny reached inside the room and passed Polly her bag from the nearby table. ‘My Bill might employ you, but I’m fussy who comes into my house.’ With her last parting words Jenny closed the door in Polly’s face, leaving Polly nearly in tears as she held her small bag of overnight possessions.

  She clutched her bag to her and clenched her knuckles until they turned white. She was no slut! Maggie, however, was. She’d been there at the side of the hall with her skirt around her waist, enjoying sex with a married man. How dare she turn this around on Polly, without taking any blame.