Sons and Daughters

by Margaret Dickinson

  Charlotte shook her head.

  ‘He said, “It’s your fault Mother died. She’d have looked after me. She’d have taken care of me, but she died because of you.” It took me two hours to get the poor little chap to calm down and make him believe he was not to blame. And I’m not sure if I succeeded even then. He still seems – subdued.’

  ‘He was tearful at Sunday school – that’s why I’m here. He said Philip was home.’ She omitted to tell him what else Georgie had said, but she felt that Miles probably guessed. ‘Is there anything I can do?’ she added.

  ‘I don’t know what anyone can do. I’m at my wit’s end, Charlotte, I don’t mind telling you. Ben seems to be the only one he’ll tolerate.’ He gave a wry laugh, ‘Mind you, that’s probably because Ben doesn’t let Philip rile him.’ He paused then added, ‘I’m getting a second opinion. A doctor from London is coming on Wednesday. Perhaps we’ll know more then.’

  ‘Well, if there’s anything I can do, let me know. And after Wednesday perhaps we’ll have a better idea as to how to handle it. If he really has nothing physically wrong, then it sounds to me rather like a case of very bad temper.’ She chuckled, trying to raise Miles’s spirits. ‘Rather like Midnight was when you first bought him. Bad tempered and stubborn.’

  He gazed across the hearth at her as he murmured, ‘Maybe you’re right.’

  When he heard that Philip was home, Osbert insisted that Edward harness the pony and trap and drive him to the manor. On arrival, Edward told Charlotte later, Osbert demanded to be allowed to see the boy. What passed behind the closed door, no one knew, only that Osbert emerged with a satisfied smirk on his face and – for a while – Philip was more amenable.

  But that all changed once more after the visit of the specialist on the Wednesday. He was a bluff, no-nonsense man. He was clever and knowledgeable and Miles had no need to doubt his opinion.

  ‘He confirms what the other doctors said,’ he told Charlotte when he drove to Buckthorn Farm to see her. ‘There’s nothing physically wrong. It’s more – now what was the word he used? – psychological. It’s all in his mind. But he did ask me if there was anything troubling the boy. Was there any reason why staying put was more attractive than getting up?’

  ‘Is he worried Jackson and John might attack him again? Is that it, d’you think?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘Well, he can be reassured on that point.’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’

  ‘But – what?’

  ‘Surely he doesn’t think that’s going to happen again. I would call the police then. I can forgive – and understand – the first time, but I wouldn’t tolerate any more attacks.’

  ‘It’s not going to happen. The Warren family have every reason to be grateful to you for what you’ve tried to do to make amends.’

  ‘Short of Philip marrying Lily, you mean?’

  Charlotte regarded him with her head on one side. ‘Are you still pressing him to “do the decent thing”?’

  Miles sighed. ‘It’s not been mentioned since he was injured, but I think he still knows that’s what I think he should do.’

  ‘Then I think that’s the problem. It may not even be a conscious thought, but if he lies there, a helpless cripple, he can’t be made to walk up the aisle with a girl he doesn’t want to marry.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘It’s possible.’ She paused then asked, ‘Would you let me see him?’

  ‘Of course, but I doubt he’ll want to see you. And I wouldn’t like him to be rude to you.’

  Charlotte laughed. ‘He won’t be able to throw me out physically, will he? And if he did,’ she chuckled again, ‘problem solved.’

  Miles spread his hands. ‘You can but try.’

  She stood up. ‘And have I your permission to tell him he’s not going to be forced into marriage?’

  Miles sighed once more. ‘Sick or well, he’s never going to agree to it. I rather gather that’s what your father was telling him when he visited the other day – that he had no need to marry the—’ He glanced at her. ‘Well, I won’t use the words he did.’

  ‘I can guess,’ Charlotte said wryly. ‘Did he tell you what had been said?’

  Now Miles chuckled. ‘No, but Georgie – the little imp – was listening at the keyhole.’

  ‘Good for him!’ Charlotte smiled delightedly.

  ‘What do you want? Come to gloat, have you? Think Buckthorn Farm will be yours if I’m a cripple? Well, it won’t. Your father has been here and he’s promised he’ll draw up a watertight will. There’ll be nothing you can do.’

  ‘I don’t think I particularly want to. Not now.’

  ‘What d’you mean, “Not now”? My father’s not been stupid enough to propose to you, has he?’

  Charlotte threw back her head and laughed. ‘No. What I mean is I have plans.’

  ‘Plans?’ he sneered. ‘What plans can you have? You’ve no money. Nowhere to go. And who in their right mind is ever going to marry a drab, plain creature like you?’

  ‘Very true.’ To his utter surprise, Charlotte agreed. ‘But you’re wrong about one thing. I do have somewhere to go. My aunt has offered me a home with her. And I may well take her up on it.’

  ‘Typical. You’d sponge off relatives for the rest of your life. I expect you hope they’ll leave you all their money now your father’s cut you out of his will?’

  ‘No. I shall train to be a teacher. Women can go to college now, get proper qualifications.’

  Without thinking what he was doing, Philip pressed his fists into the bed to lever himself upright. Charlotte noticed, but made no comment. ‘And who’s going to look after Buckthorn Farm if you go?’

  Charlotte shrugged and turned towards the door. ‘Buckthorn Farm? Why should I care about Buckthorn Farm?’

  ‘Because it’s my inheritance, that’s why.’

  ‘Really? Then you’d better get out of that bed and start learning how to run a farm, hadn’t you?’

  As she reached for the doorknob, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, the teacup come sailing through the air towards her. She ducked just in time and it smashed against the door panel.

  She wagged her forefinger at him as she opened the door to leave the room. ‘Temper, temper!’

  Thirty-Seven

  ‘Did you tell him about Lily?’

  ‘Not this time,’ Charlotte told Miles. He was waiting for her in the hallway when she came down the stairs. She smiled. ‘We got on to other things. He sat up to throw a cup at me, so that’s a start.’

  ‘Charlotte—’ Miles began to apologize, but she held up her hand to stop him.

  ‘It roused him – made him move. It’s a good sign. He’s still in a filthy temper. though. Anyway, I’ll come again tomorrow.’

  ‘Well,’ Miles was still doubtful, but felt obliged to say, ‘the specialist from London did say we’re not to pamper him.’

  ‘We won’t do that, I promise you. He needs breaking in – just like Midnight. And, sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind. You have to let them know just who’s the boss.’

  ‘I thought you trained your horses with gentleness and kindness?’ He couldn’t hide the surprise and the amusement in his voice.

  ‘Sometimes. It depends on the nature of the animal you’re dealing with. If it’s a nervous creature, it needs soft handling, but a bad-tempered, brutish beast needs taming. Anyway, I must go. Joe’s coming to see me this afternoon. He has someone in mind to take over as farm foreman when he leaves.’

  ‘I’m sorry if my offering Joe the tenancy of Purslane Farm will cause you problems.’

  ‘I shall miss them all, but I’m happy for them.’ She looked at him, her violet eyes softening. ‘I expect you’re doing it for your future grandchild, aren’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘That more than anything, I suppose. But Joe – and his sons – deserve a chance. Besides, they made it quite clear that if you were likely to leave, they didn’t want to stay at Buckthorn Farm a
nyway.’

  ‘Really?’ Charlotte was startled.

  He regarded her thoughtfully. ‘You know, my dear, I don’t think you know how loved you are by the people around here.’

  At that Charlotte blushed and turned away. ‘It’s time I went,’ she said over her shoulder but he heard the catch in her throat and knew his words had touched her.

  As she walked home, Charlotte thought, But there’s only one person around here that I want to love me, Miles Thornton, really love me, but I don’t suppose you ever will.

  Charlotte was quite happy to hire the new farm foreman and two young lads whom Joe had recommended to take the place of the departing Warrens. But before she made her final decision, she felt obliged to consult Miles once more.

  Any excuse to see him, she castigated herself as she went again to the manor.

  ‘It’s Eddie Norton, Miles. Joe says he’s the makings of a good foreman. He’ll need some guidance for a while but Joe is sure he’s the right one. But I’d be taking one of your best workers from here on Home Farm.’

  Miles waved aside her doubts. ‘No matter, Charlotte. Like John Warren rightly said, there are a lot of young men looking for work in these difficult times. There’ll be dozens after the vacancy here, I’ve no doubt. No, no, you take Eddie.’

  Eddie Norton had worked on the Ravensfleet Estate since leaving school. And, better still, he was the son of Peggy’s cousin. Charlotte felt she would still have a member of the Warren family on Buckthorn Farm. And she felt he deserved a piece of good luck after being suspected of bringing Lily down.

  ‘You’ll be wanting to move into their old cottage, I take it?’

  The young man stood nervously in front of her desk in the farm office.

  ‘Oh no, miss. I’ll still live with me ma near Ravensfleet, if that’s all right with you.’

  ‘I’m surprised you’re not married,’ she said candidly. He was a good-looking young man and he’d already told her he was twenty-six years old. The same age as she was and just the right age to train up as a foreman, she’d thought.

  At her question, Eddie’s face fell. ‘No, miss. I was walking out with a lass from Ravensfleet way but she caught the influenza, when it was so bad, miss, if you remember. Just at the end of the war. We was only eighteen, but we was both serious, if you get my meaning. We’d talked about marrying, but then she got ill and – and she died, miss.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Eddie. I wouldn’t have asked you if . . .’

  ‘’S’all right, miss. I suppose one day I might meet someone else. Me mam’s allus on at me to find a nice girl and get wed. I had thought that me and Lily might – ’ He shrugged his strong shoulders and sighed, ‘but you know all about that.’

  ‘So, you won’t be needing the Warrens’ cottage, then?’

  Eddie shook his head. ‘Me mam’s settled where she is. She moved in there as a young bride and she dun’t want to leave all her memories. She – she still feels me dad’s close.’ He smiled, embarrassed. ‘You know how some folks are, miss.’

  ‘Of course,’ Charlotte hastened to reassure him. ‘I wouldn’t dream of asking your mother to leave her home.’

  ‘I’ll mek sure it dun’t interfere with me work here, miss. I mean, I know I won’t be as close at hand as Joe’s been, but—’

  Charlotte raised her hand. ‘It’s not that. I just thought you might need a home of your own, that’s all.’

  At the end of the month the Warren family moved into Purslane Farm.

  ‘It’s the end of an era, Joe,’ Charlotte said as she stood watching them load all their belongings on to the farm cart. There’d be one or two more trips before everything was moved.

  ‘Eddie’s here helping. His ma and Peggy have never been what you’d call close, but they’re making up for lost time now. Edith and Eddie live just down the lane from Purslane Farm, so we’ll be seeing more of them. It’ll be nice for Peg. She’s going to miss you – and Mary.’

  ‘She’s welcome here any time. She should know that.’

  ‘She does, miss, but’ – he puffed his chest out proudly – ‘she’ll not have much time, I’m thinking. She’s a farmer’s wife now.’

  ‘She is, Joe, and you’re a farmer.’ She handed him the brown paper parcel she carried. ‘And I’ve brought you a present to start you off.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’

  Charlotte laughed. ‘You might not think so when you see what it is. It’s a set of ledgers to keep your accounts.’

  Joe’s face was a picture. ‘Ah, but I’m not so good with the paperwork side of it, miss. I’m a hands-on type of a chap.’

  ‘I know that, Joe, but I think your John is the ideal man to keep the books for you. And tell him not to be too proud to come and ask for a bit of help if he needs it.’

  ‘I will, miss. And thank you.’

  She stood watching as the cart swayed down the lane, Jackson driving with Lily sitting beside him. Walking behind and keeping an eye on the precariously balanced belongings were Joe, Peggy, John, young Tommy and Eddie. Charlotte felt a lump in her throat. She was so glad for them; they deserved this chance, but she was going to miss them dreadfully.

  And there was someone else who was going to miss Peggy, too. Charlotte retraced her steps back to the kitchen of Buckthorn Farm. As she stepped through the door, she said, ‘A cup of tea and a little chat, I think, Mary.’

  With the departure of the Warren family and the removal of Lily from the immediate vicinity, Charlotte fully expected that Philip would make a miraculous recovery. Both she and his father had told him – more than once – that he was not going to be pressed into marrying the girl.

  But still, he languished in bed, insisting that those louts had irreparably damaged his spine and that he’d never walk again. He’d not be able to return to school or go on to university as he’d hoped and his dreams of a career as a lawyer lay in tatters.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Charlotte had told him briskly. ‘You could still be a lawyer from a wheelchair, if needs be.’

  ‘Get out! I don’t know why you keep visiting. Nobody wants you here, least of all me.’

  Things might have continued thus if it hadn’t been for another visit from Aunt Euphemia and her husband. She swept into Buckthorn Farm kitchen dressed in furs and in a cloud of expensive perfume.

  ‘I want you to come on a little holiday with us, Charlotte dear,’ Euphemia announced in a tone that brooked no argument. ‘We’re going to Derbyshire for a week at the end of February. Bakewell. It’s a charming little place and so quiet at this time of year. You’ll love it, I’m sure. Your father can manage without you for a week or two.’

  Charlotte chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully.

  ‘You go, miss,’ Mary encouraged. ‘You deserve it. You’ve never had the chance before. We’ll look after your father and the farm’ll be all right. Eddie can always go over and ask Joe if he’s worried about anything.’

  ‘D’you know, Mary,’ Charlotte said slowly, her eyes sparkling with sudden excitement. ‘I’ll go.’ She turned to her aunt. ‘Thank you, Aunt Euphemia, I’d love to come. But – not a word to Father, mind, until everything is settled.’

  Euphemia wriggled her plump shoulders. ‘Oh, I do love a secret.’

  Charlotte and Mary did not dare to catch each other’s glance. They didn’t think the loquacious Euphemia would be very good at keeping secrets.

  Everything was ready; her suitcase packed with the meagre few pieces of clothing she possessed. Edward had the pony and trap waiting in the yard as Charlotte, in her best hat and coat, went into the sitting room to tell her father that she was going away for a week or so with his sister.

  ‘You’re what?’

  For a moment, Charlotte felt a shaft of fear. Her father’s face drained of its colour and then flushed a fiery red. His hands shook and when he tried to rise out of his chair, he fell back, panting. His eyes glazed over and Charlotte thought he was suffering a seizure.

  ‘Father . . .’ She st
epped towards him, her hand outstretched.

  ‘Get away,’ he spat. ‘You – you Jezebel! Leave me too, would you? Go, then, go and never come back. I never want to set eyes on you again.’

  Seeing that he was not ill, Charlotte fled, but she was trembling and distressed when she returned to the kitchen. ‘He – he was so angry, Mary. He said, “Leave me too, would you?” I don’t know what he meant.’

  She was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice Mary turn pale and cast frightened eyes towards Edward, standing near the open door with Charlotte’s suitcase in his hand.

  But Charlotte, thinking aloud, answered her own question. ‘I expect he meant the Warrens going. Perhaps he feels everyone’s deserting him. But he dismissed them – he was going to turn them out. And who can blame them for taking the chance Mr Thornton offered? Anyone would have done the same, wouldn’t they, Mary?’

  Mary swallowed her panic and said shakily, ‘Yes, of course, miss. That’s what he does. He makes people leave. He—’

  ‘Mary . . .’ There was a warning note in Edward’s voice, but Charlotte thought no more of it when he added, ‘Tis time Miss Charlotte was leaving, if she’s not to miss the train.’

  Charlotte hugged her quickly and followed Edward out of the door. She was unaware of Mary, her hand to her throat and something akin to terror in her eyes, watching her go.

  Thirty-Eight

  ‘We shall have the most marvellous time and I have a lovely surprise for you when we get to Derbyshire,’ Euphemia burbled, clapping her hands like a small child at the thought of a special treat.

  ‘Now, now, Euphemia,’ Percy said, smiling benignly. ‘You promised.’

  ‘I know I did, but I can hardly keep it to myself. But I must – I must. I mustn’t spoil it. She’d be so cross with me if I did.’

  ‘She?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Who, Aunt? Who are we going to meet?’

  Euphemia pressed her lips together to stop the words escaping. ‘My lips are sealed. In fact, I’ll get Percy to put sticking plaster across them if I don’t keep quiet.’