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Sons and Daughters

Page 23

by Margaret Dickinson


  Charlotte nodded.

  Peggy went on in a flat, emotionless voice. ‘We didn’t expect it, but it was good of Mr Thornton to try. We – we appreciate that.’

  ‘He’s a good man,’ Charlotte said softly. ‘I’m sure—’

  Charlotte was interrupted by her father’s strident voice. ‘Warren. You there, Warren.’

  Charlotte turned to see him a few yards away, leaning on his stick and shouting so that all the world might hear. ‘You’re fired. The lot of you. And you’re to leave the cottage at once, d’you hear me? At once. You’ll be packed and gone by daybreak tomorrow.’

  Charlotte turned and ran towards her father. ‘No, Father, no. You can’t do this. I won’t let you.’

  As she met his glare, she stopped, shocked by the vehement hatred in his eyes.

  ‘You’ll hold your tongue, girl, if you know what’s good for you. Else you’ll be gone an’ all . . .’ In a swift movement, he raised his stick and brought it down against her shoulder in a vicious blow. Charlotte reeled and fell to the ground. She heard everyone’s cries of shock and alarm, but before anyone could reach her, Miles’s strong arms were round her and he was lifting her up. Before he carried her away, he glanced just once at her father.

  ‘You’ll rue this day, Crawford. Mark you well. You’ll rue this day.’

  ‘You’re coming home with us,’ Miles said. ‘And I won’t hear any arguments. You’re not staying with him a moment longer.’

  Charlotte was too shocked to argue. She felt foolish, but her shoulder was hurting so much, and her legs felt so weak, that she had no choice but to allow him to carry her to his motor car and place her gently inside.

  He straightened up and looked around for his sons. ‘Ben,’ he called. ‘Come along. We’re going home. Where’s Georgie?’

  Ben came running up. ‘He’s with the Warren family. I think he and Tommy are making up.’ He climbed into the front seat. ‘They’re all smiles, anyway. He didn’t see what happened. How are you, Miss Charlotte?’

  She touched her shoulder and winced. ‘I’ll be all right, I think. I don’t think it’s broken.’ She glanced out of the window to see Edward wrenching her father’s stick out of his hand and flinging it as far away as he could. Then he grasped the older man by the arm and hustled him towards the pony and trap. She didn’t think she had ever seen Edward look so angry or stand up so defiantly to his master.

  ‘Now he’ll sack Edward and Mary for real. It won’t be just one of his threats this time.’ She leaned her head back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. ‘Oh dear!’

  Georgie came running across the grass to the car. He made no attempt to get in but, instead, stood near the driver’s door, his face upturned towards his father. ‘Me’n Tommy is friends again, Papa,’ he said, the wide beam back on his face. ‘Can I stay to Sunday school?’

  ‘I don’t think there’ll be Sunday school today, Georgie. Come along, climb in.’

  As he clambered in, he saw Charlotte. ‘Oh! You’re here! Are you coming to luncheon?’

  ‘I—’

  Ben turned round in the front seat. ‘Didn’t you see? Mr Crawford hit her and Father rescued her. We’re taking her home with us, aren’t we, Father?’

  ‘Indeed we are, Ben.’

  As Miles got out of the car again to crank the starting handle, Georgie slipped his hand into Charlotte’s.

  ‘Wilkins, show Miss Charlotte to one of the spare bedrooms. See she has everything she needs. Then I need to see you and Mrs Beddows in my study. Boys, amuse yourselves until luncheon.’

  A short while later, a rather nervous Wilkins and Mrs Beddows tapped on the study door.

  ‘Wilkins – Mrs Beddows – please sit down.’

  The servants glanced anxiously at each other. They were not used to being treated with such courtesy by an employer. But then Mr Thornton had already proved himself to be an unusual master. They sat down nervously on the edge of their seats.

  ‘There may have to be some changes here and I want to – well – consult and include you in any decision I make. But let me make it quite clear from the outset that, although it might affect you, your employment with me is quite safe and your home is here for as long as you want it. Now, I’m not sure yet what is going to happen, but it may mean that Miss Charlotte and Mr and Mrs Morgan, too, will be coming to live at the manor . . .’

  For the next half an hour, the two servants listened in amazement, nodding their ready agreement when Miles finished by saying, ‘Can I rely on you both to keep everything I’ve said confidential for the moment?’

  ‘Most certainly, sir, and thank you for your trust in us. I think Mrs Beddows would join me in saying that.’

  Mrs Beddows smiled and bobbed a curtsy. As they left the room, it was Miles who was left with a small smile on his face. What good people there were in these parts. At least, some of them were. His face sobered as his thoughts returned to all the problems that faced him.

  There was a small tap at the door and Wilkins entered again with a letter on a silver tray. ‘This was delivered by hand, sir, whilst you were at church. I do apologize for not handing it to you sooner.’

  ‘No matter, Wilkins,’ Miles said mildly. ‘I don’t expect it’s anything important.’

  But he was wrong. It was important. Very important. He sat for a long time in his study, the single sheet of paper in his hand, thinking. It didn’t alter any of the plans he’d discussed with both Wilkins and Mrs Beddows. But there were things it could alter.

  As he rose to go to the dining room for luncheon, he was smiling. Despite his concern for Philip, the unexpected letter had brought news that could make his other problems easier to resolve.

  Perhaps, after all, there was some truth in Cuthbert Iveson’s sermons. For, at this very moment, it seemed as if some, if not quite all, his prayers had been answered.

  But for now he must make his unexpected guest feel welcome in his home.

  That evening Miles rode over to the Warrens’ cottage once more.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb your evening,’ he began, but Joe held the door wide, inviting him in.

  ‘ ’Tis already disturbed, Mr Thornton. We’re in the throes of packing up our belongings. Please excuse the chaos,’ Joe said apologetically, adding, ‘and don’t mind the wife. She’s been crying ever since we got home from church.’

  ‘I do mind, Joe, I mind very much. About all of you.’

  ‘Here’s Mr Thornton, Peggy love. Boys, mek room for the master.’

  Jackson leapt up at once and placed a chair near the fire.

  ‘Please excuse me, Mr Thornton.’ Peggy was still dabbing her eyes with the corner of her white apron. ‘I must look a sight, but I just don’t know where we’re all goin’ to go, and given a moment’s notice like that. By daybreak, he said.’

  ‘I know,’ Miles said grimly. ‘But I wouldn’t take that too literally, if I were you. He can’t turn you out physically.’

  Joe and Peggy gaped at him. ‘Can’t he? I mean, won’t he get the constable – the bailiffs – if we don’t go?’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  Peggy sank into a chair. ‘And then there’s Miss Charlotte. I can’t stop thinking about that poor girl.’ Fresh tears welled in her eyes. ‘How is she, Mr Thornton?’

  ‘Well enough. The doctor’s been this afternoon and there’s nothing broken. She’s just badly bruised and shocked.’

  Joe snorted. ‘Who wouldn’t be? Her own father striking her like that. And it’s not the first time, is it?’

  ‘She’s going to stay at the manor for a day or two until things calm down,’ Miles told them. ‘But she’s insisting on going home. She says the farm won’t run itself and she – ’ he paused, his final words coming out on a sigh – ‘she still feels she has a duty to her father.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go back, if I was her,’ Jackson muttered.

  ‘What about Edward and Mary?’ Peggy asked.

  ‘I’m going to see them when I leave here.�
��

  ‘Edward and Mary’ll look out for her.’ Joe tried to soothe his wife’s worries.

  ‘They won’t be able to stop him hitting her, though, will they?’

  Joe was silent, unable to argue the facts.

  ‘Maybe when things have settled down a bit, Miss Charlotte will get the old man to change his mind. I mean, about sacking us and turning us out,’ John put in. ‘It was all done and said in a fit of temper. You could see that. Let’s face it, Jackson. It’s because of you an’ me. Because of what we did to Master Philip.’

  Miles waited, looking round at their anxious faces.

  ‘Well, I’m not bothered about me job,’ Jackson muttered stubbornly. ‘I can get work anywhere.’

  ‘I don’t know that you can,’ John said. ‘The state the country’s in at the moment, jobs are going to be hard to come by.’

  ‘Then I’ll emigrate,’ Jackson muttered, but this only brought a wail of desolation and fresh tears from his mother.

  ‘But the real worry is Dad getting a job.’ John was still the one speaking what was on all their minds. ‘And somewhere for them to live with Tommy and Lily and her bairn. We’d be all right, Jackson. We can go anywhere, but what about them?’

  Miles cleared his throat and, from his pocket, brought out the letter he had received that morning.

  ‘Perhaps there is something I can do to help in that respect. I had notice this morning from Mr and Mrs Bailey, who – ’ he smiled – ‘as you probably know even better than I do, are my tenants in Purslane Farm, the other side of Ravensfleet.’

  ‘Aye, we do, sir. Poor old Dan Bailey’s not been well for some time and his farm – if you’ll forgive me saying so – has not been run as well as it once was.’

  Miles chuckled. ‘If you say so, Joe, if you say so. But here’s the thing. Mr and Mrs Bailey are moving down south to live near their married daughter, it seems.’

  ‘That’d be Elsie, their eldest. She married – oh, must be ten years back – and moved away,’ Peggy put in, always ready with a bit of family history. She perked up a little now her thoughts had been distracted for the moment from their problems.

  Mr Thornton fingered the letter, turning it round and round. ‘The thing is, I’ll be needing new tenants, won’t I?’ Joe stared at him and Miles returned his gaze steadily. ‘I’m not sure what acreage it is, but is it big enough to support you and all your family, Joe?’

  Joe stared at him open mouthed. ‘You mean – you mean . . . ?’ He was overcome and couldn’t get the words out, but Jackson could.

  ‘You’re giving us first chance of the tenancy, Mr Thornton?’

  ‘If you want it, yes.’

  Jackson gave a whoop of delight, jumped to his feet and slapped first his father and then his brother on the back. ‘Our own farm. Our very own farm.’

  ‘Wait a bit, our Jackson. Just hold yar ’osses.’ Joe faced Miles. ‘Is this ’cos of our Lily?’

  Miles nodded. ‘Yes, Joe. I’ll not deny that. I feel – very responsible. I’m ashamed to say that Philip is still refusing point-blank to marry Lily. But she is, after all, carrying my grandchild. But besides that, I like your whole family, Joe. You’re good people. You don’t deserve the way that bitter old man is treating you any more than his daughter does. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to help her – not yet – but I can help you. And I want to – if you’ll let me.’ He held out his hand to Joe. Slowly, not quite knowing how this good fortune had befallen him, Joe took his hand and shook it firmly. After all the heartache and tragedy of the past few days, Joe felt humbled by this man’s goodness.

  ‘We’ll not let you down, master,’ he said huskily. ‘We’ll mek a go of it and turn that farm around, back to what it used to be.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt of that, Joe. No doubt at all. The only thing that does worry me is, what’s going to happen to Buckthorn Farm?’

  But to that, no one had an answer.

  Thirty-Six

  ‘I have to go back, Miles,’ Charlotte insisted two days later. ‘You’ve been so kind – incredibly kind. And your offer to take in not only me but also Edward and Mary is so, so generous. But my duty is at Buckthorn Farm. Now Joe and the boys are leaving, I must seek more workers. And Edward and Mary – I must find out what is happening to them.’

  ‘They’re fine,’ Miles insisted. ‘I saw them yesterday and their only concern is for you. Your father seems to have conveniently ignored Edward’s actions. I expect it suits him to do so,’ he added wryly.

  Charlotte smiled weakly. ‘Father can be very perverse.’ She leaned forward across the breakfast table. ‘I don’t want to go. You – and the boys – have made me so welcome. Despite your worries over Philip, this is still a happy household. I’ve loved being here, playing with Georgie’ – she put her head on one side and her eyes twinkled mischievously – ‘and with the dolls’ house.’

  But Miles didn’t smile. His expression was wistful. ‘I bought that when my wife was expecting Georgie. We so longed for a daughter, you see.’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s amazing,’ she murmured.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘That you should have wanted a daughter so much, when my father . . .’ She stopped, but there was no need for her to say more. She sighed. ‘And talking of my father, I really must go home. You do see that, don’t you, Miles?’

  He sighed heavily. ‘I suppose so, but I want you to promise me that you’ll come back here at the very first sign of trouble.’

  ‘I will. I can promise you that.’

  ‘Very well, then. I’ll drive you over this morning.’

  ‘No need,’ she said getting up from the table. ‘The walk will do me good.’

  He rose too and laughed wryly. ‘There’s just one thing – I think you’re going to have a much harder job persuading Georgie to let you go.’

  Laughing together, they left the breakfast room to go in search of the little boy.

  Charlotte entered Buckthorn Farm by the front door. This is my home, she told herself. No skulking in by the back door any more. She went at once to the sitting room. Osbert looked up as she entered.

  ‘Oh, it’s you. Come to beg forgiveness, have you?’

  ‘I most certainly have not,’ Charlotte said quietly, but with a firmness that had never before been in her tone when addressing her father. Until this moment, she’d always felt downtrodden in his presence. But now she’d found a self-confidence she’d never thought she possessed or could possess.

  ‘Where are your glasses, girl?’

  ‘They’re broken, Father.’

  ‘Then you must get a new pair at once.’

  ‘There’s no need, Father. My eyesight is perfect.’ Her mouth twitched with mischief as she added mildly, ‘I don’t know what optician it was who told you all those years ago that I needed spectacles, but he certainly conned you into buying something I do not need.’

  Her father glared at her, but said nothing.

  ‘And as for the Warrens, Father, they will be staying for another month. I don’t know if you know or not, but the Baileys are moving out of Purslane Farm and Mr Thornton has offered Joe the tenancy.’

  Osbert’s face turned purple and, for a moment, Charlotte thought she had gone too far. She took a step towards him. ‘Father?’

  ‘Get out,’ he spat. ‘Get out of my sight.’

  Charlotte turned on her heel and left the room, heading towards the farm office. Her hands were trembling, but there was a small smile of triumph on her lips.

  Today, she thought, my new life begins. From today, things are going to be very different around here.

  After Sunday school the following week, Georgie slipped his hand into hers. His mouth quivered and his eyes were full of tears.

  She squatted down so that her face was on a level with his. ‘What is it, darling? What’s the matter? Has Tommy been nasty to you again?’

  The boy shook his head. ‘No, no. It’s just – we miss you. Won’t you come and live wit
h us?’

  ‘Oh Georgie – ’

  ‘And Philip has come home.’

  ‘But that’s wonderful! How is he?’

  ‘Horrible. He’s in bed all the time. He can’t walk and he’s bad tempered. He shouts at everyone and throws things.’

  ‘Oh dear.’

  ‘Papa is so upset. He doesn’t know what to do.’

  ‘I’ll come over this afternoon and see you all.’

  Georgie nodded and allowed her to lead him to where Brewster was waiting to drive him home.

  That afternoon, Charlotte found Miles sitting in one of the deep leather wing chairs beside the fire in his study. He looked tired and defeated. She sat down opposite him and poured the tea Wilkins brought into the room without being asked.

  Miles had greeted her perfunctorily when she’d come in, but now he sat slumped in the chair, his long legs outstretched, his gaze on the flames in the fireplace almost as if he was unaware of her presence.

  ‘Here,’ she said gently. ‘Drink this and tell me what’s the matter. Is it Philip?’

  With a deep sigh, he roused himself, took the cup she held out to him and stirred the liquid. ‘Yes,’ he said heavily.

  ‘It’s – it’s bad news?’

  ‘The doctors say,’ he said slowly, ‘there’s nothing wrong with his back. Nothing’s broken – badly bruised, of course – but not broken.’

  ‘But that’s wonderful news—’ she began, then stopped. From the look on Miles’s face, it didn’t seem to be. ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But Philip says he can’t move – can’t feel his legs. He’s not even trying. He’s just lying there letting everyone wait on him. And his behaviour’s – well, there’s no other word for it – it’s disgraceful. He shouts and screams at the servants. He throws anything he can lay his hands on. He threw his dinner last night at poor Lucy – that’s the new girl Mrs Beddows took on to replace Lily. She’s from Ravensfleet. She’s a good little thing, but I doubt she’ll stay long if she’s treated like that. And as for Georgie, he’s in tears every time he comes out of Philip’s room. Do you know what Philip said to him yesterday?’

 

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