by Valerie Wood
Tom nodded. It was just that he had a sneaking suspicion that Betsy was up to something; she’d been so vague about her trip out with Sammi. ‘Where did she say she was going, Da? Was it into Hull or Hornsea?’
‘Well, I don’t rightly know. I don’t recall her saying exactly.’
That’s right, she didn’t, Tom pondered. Nor did she say how they were going. ‘Were they going in Sammi’s trap, or was Johnson driving them in the carriage?’
‘They must have been going to Hornsea. She said summat about Sammi’s trap.’ His father shifted uncomfortably and winced. ‘I can’t remember what. Summat about meeting her in ’village to save turning round. So she’d never drive all ’way to Hull in ’trap, would she?’
‘No. No, of course she wouldn’t.’
‘There’s no sign of ’em.’ George came back inside. ‘So we’d best get our own supper.’
At half-past eight, Tom strode into the village himself and walked down the main street and stood looking down the long road which led into Hull. The road curved sinuously over the hummocky plain, dipping and gently rising, disappearing below the hollows and then reappearing again a few miles on. It was empty. Not a horse or cart or carriage, not a man or woman to disturb its tranquillity. It was as empty as it had been when he had last waved good-bye to Mark.
Then he turned and walked to the other end of the village and stood on the rise, looking down the road leading towards the coastal town of Hornsea. There was a lone rider coming towards him, a farmhand by the look of him, riding on a shaggy hooved plough horse. He was about to call and ask if he had seen anything of Miss Rayner’s trap, when he thought better of it. No point in spreading the word around the whole village unnecessarily; instead he called as the man drew close, ‘I’m waiting of a delivery. Have you seen anyone else on the road?’
The farmhand tipped his cap and shook his head. ‘I’ve not come far, only from Redshaw’s, but there’s nobody else on ’road.’
Tom walked back to the mill. The sun had gone down and though it wasn’t yet dusk, the evening was grey with low-hung clouds, threatening rain.
‘I’ll wait a bit longer and then ride over to Garston Hall,’ he announced. ‘Betsy’s perhaps gone back with Sammi to spend the night there, though I think she might have called home first.’
His father looked worried, though now an angry frown creased his forehead. ‘She’ll feel ’sharp end of my tongue when she does get in,’ he said. ‘Nine o’clock and not yet home! Unless summat’s happened,’ he added anxiously.
‘Nowt’ll have happened, Da.’ George bit into a slice of raised pork pie. ‘She just gets mad at us allus watching out for her. She’ll be staying out late on purpose.’
Tom put on his jacket over his flannel shirt and brushed his dark hair in front of the mirror.
‘Tha doesn’t have to get toffed up to see thy kin.’ George eased a piece of meat from a hollow tooth with his tongue. ‘Unless tha’s expecting to be invited to supper.’
‘And you don’t have to talk with your mouth full, but you do,’ Tom answered back sharply. ‘Watch out for Da. I’ll be back as quick as I can.’
The road to Monkston was pot-holed, some of the hollows had been filled with sand and pebbles, but his Cleveland bay picked his way steadily on powerful limbs. There was a rush of white wings as a barn owl flew past, and in the hedgerow he could hear the rustling and twittering of disturbed finches, buntings and wrens.
A light was showing in one of the bedroom windows, and Tom assumed that it was Victoria’s room. She hadn’t been well again and everyone was worried about her. Another lamp was burning in a downstairs sitting-room, though the drawing-room window was in darkness. He rang the bell and waited. He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. The maid who opened the door gave him a bright smile. ‘Good evening, Mr Foster,’ she said and bobbed her knee.
‘Er, good evening.’
‘You don’t recognize me, do you, sir?’ She opened the door wider to let him in.
He shook his head. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Yes, of course. It’s Jenny. How are you? Are you enjoying your work here?’
‘Yes, sir, thank you. Though I’m coming to your house soon.’ She gave him a beaming smile. ‘As soon as Mrs Rayner thinks I’m ready, I’ll be coming.’
‘We’ll look forward to that.’ She’s a merry little soul, he thought, she’ll cheer Father up no end.
‘Are Mr and Mrs Rayner at home, Jenny? I need to speak to them. Or Miss Sammi?’
‘I regret Mr and Mrs Rayner are not at home.’ She answered parrot-fashion as if she had been rehearsing. ‘But Miss Sammi is,’ she added eagerly. ‘Shall I take you through?’
‘Please,’ he said, and followed her across the hall. ‘Is my sister with her?’
‘No, sir!’ She looked blank at his question, then, knocking on the sitting-room door, she opened it and announced, ‘Mr Tom Foster, Miss Sammi.’
Sammi was sitting on a sofa by a low fire, an opened book lying at her side. ‘Hello, Tom! What brings you here?’
‘I’m looking for Betsy. Isn’t she here?’
A frown creased her brow. ‘No. I haven’t seen her for a few days. Why did you think she was here?’ She motioned him to sit beside her.
Tom bit his lip. Something was wrong. Betsy had lied. ‘She said something about a shopping trip. We’re sure she said you were going too.’
‘No. Betsy knew that I had to stay here with Victoria,’ she disclosed. ‘I told her that Mama and Pa were going up to the Wolds for a few days. Victoria is feeling a little better,’ she added, ‘so they made the most of the opportunity.’
‘Who else might she have gone with?’ Tom asked, perturbed that he couldn’t think of the name of a single female whom Betsy had befriended.
‘No-one,’ Sammi said slowly. ‘She has never had much time for anyone in the village.’ She tapped her finger on her lips and he followed the curve of her mouth with his eyes. ‘What time did she go?’
‘Early. She was rather vague, yet she mentioned something to Da about you.’
‘I think she’s gone into Hull!’ Sammi thought it through. ‘I told her about the opening of the new park, and what fun it was going to be. Billy and Gilbert were both going. If she has gone, she will have gone in with the Hornsea carrier!’
‘Which park?’ Tom frowned. ‘And why would she go without telling us?’
‘The People’s Park,’ she said. ‘Billy told me all about it. There’s to be a fête, and entertainment with fireworks this evening. That’s where she’ll be, Tom. And you wouldn’t have let her go alone.’ She looked at him frankly. ‘That’s why she didn’t tell you.’
There was a knock on the door and it was immediately opened. Martha stood there with a rigid expression on her face.
‘Yes, Martha?’ Sammi looked up in surprise. ‘What is it?’
‘Beg pardon, Miss Sammi. But I wondered if there was something wrong – Master Tom being here so late, I mean.’ She looked from one to another as they sat side by side, and Tom gave a slight smile at her hostile expression. She wavered. ‘With Mr and Mrs Rayner being away and it being so late for calling,’ she repeated, looking again at Tom. ‘I wondered if there was anything I could assist with?’
Tom rose to his feet. Anyone could, of course, misinterpret his visit. ‘I’m anxious about my sister, Martha. She hasn’t arrived home from a shopping trip and I thought she was with Miss Sammi.’
‘Not arrived home! My word!’ Martha was aghast. ‘Where in the world can she be at this time of night?’
‘Thank you, Martha, that will be all. Master Tom is leaving shortly.’ Sammi grimaced as Martha closed the door behind her, and she and Tom exchanged a smile. ‘She’s like a mother hen when Mama is away,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve been thinking.’ She rose to her feet. ‘If Hull was very busy because of the fête and Betsy missed the carrier to come home, the most sensible thing she could do would be to go and stay with Gilbert and Harriet, and catch the carrier again tomo
rrow.’ She nodded reassuringly. ‘That’s what she will have done.’
‘Do you think so?’ His mind was drifting away from Betsy. This setting is so right for her, he reflected. Sammi seemed to be framed in the backcloth of the room; her back was to the overmantel mirror and he saw the red curls hanging down her back. Flowers were on a side table, blending with the pale green walls and the gold damask covers on the furniture.
‘Tom? Don’t worry.’ She shook his arm gently, breaking his reverie. ‘She will be all right, I’m sure. But come tomorrow and tell me, won’t you?’
Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed her on her cheek. ‘Good-bye, Sammi.’ He swallowed. ‘Thank you. Yes. That’s where she’ll be. There’s nothing I can do tonight anyway.’
She opened the sitting-room door for him and he begged her not to come out; there was no need, anyway, for there was Martha hovering in the hall, waiting to usher him out.
‘I’m sorry, Martha,’ he apologized. ‘I had no idea that Mr and Mrs Rayner were away, but even if I had, I would still have come. I’m very anxious about my sister.’
‘I do understand, sir. But I hope you understand my position too.’ She pursed her lips. ‘When young Jenny said as it was you calling on Miss Sammi, well, I thought there was something up.’
He laughed softly. ‘You did perfectly right, of course, but I’ve been coming here all of my life, you surely know that I wouldn’t compromise Miss Sammi?’
She didn’t smile back but regarded him in a deliberate manner. ‘It’s not me as is the problem, Master Tom. It’s tittle-tattling of others that we have to watch. Miss Sammi is of an age, and we have to mind her character.’ She opened the door and ushered him out. ‘Good night to you, sir.’
As he slung himself into the saddle, he felt more despondent than ever. He wished he could believe that Betsy would have gone to Gilbert’s. It would be just like her to spend her money on a hotel, and a woman alone would not be viewed with respect. He sighed and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. And as for Martha, as she was so mindful of Sammi’s reputation, even with him whom she knew so well, did it mean she was aware that there was a suitor somewhere on the horizon? And why had Sammi’s parents chosen to go to the Wolds at this particular time? Were they anxious to arrange a marriage before rumour of Adam reached other ears? Was there a rich farmer up there considered suitable enough to ask for Sammi?
The next morning Tom walked down into the village to wait for the carrier on his journey into Hull. He hailed him as he waited outside the Raven Inn.
‘Did you pick up a young lady yesterday morning?’ he asked. ‘Dark hair, yellow dress?’
‘Aye, I did. Right bonny she was too. Going to ’opening of ’new park, she said. By, what a crush. Tha should have seen ’crowds. Did she get home all right?’ he asked. ‘I waited ’till gone three, like I said, but she didn’t come.’
Tom rubbed his chin absently. ‘No, she didn’t. She must have stayed with a relative.’
‘Aye, well that doesn’t surprise me. Forty thousand visitors they reckoned they had in town. And it’ll be ’same again today, ’cos Mayor’s bairns are planting another tree and there’ll be more festivities.’ He clicked his tongue and the horses pulled away. ‘So don’t be too surprised if she doesn’t get back tonight either. But I’ll keep an eye open for her if tha’s worried,’ he shouted back. ‘She said as how her brother generally took her in.’
Did she now? Tom’s anxiety was replaced by anger. It seems to me that Betsy has planned this escapade and given no thought to anyone else. Not Da, who needs her, and not George or me who might be worried about her.
She didn’t arrive back by the afternoon carrier, and George, who had been down to meet it, reported that the carrier had said that the town was still brimming with visitors.
‘Dammit!’ Tom struck the kitchen table with his fist. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
His father called through from the parlour, he’d obviously heard his exclamation. ‘Tha’ll have to go into Hull and look for her. Go to Monkston and see Sammi, ask her where she thinks she might be. She might have an idea. Then tha can go first thing in ’morning.’
Tom didn’t think for one moment that Sammi would know where Betsy was staying apart from with Gilbert and Harriet, but he felt the need to be doing something, and he had also promised to tell Sammi as soon as he had news. Which I haven’t, I’m as much in the dark as I was yesterday. Where on earth has she got to?
Martha opened the door to him this time. ‘Still no news, Master Tom?’ She pursed her lips. ‘That’s bad. I don’t like ’sound of it at all. Who’s looking after Mr Foster?’ she asked keenly.
‘My brother and I.’ He was off-hand. I could do without this badgering, he griped. I’ve enough to think about without your curious questioning.
‘Have you food in ’house, Master Tom?’
‘Yes, thank you, Martha. Is Miss Sammi about, or are her parents back yet?’
‘No, they’re not,’ she said anxiously. ‘I wish they were. Miss Victoria’s been poorly again today.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Perhaps I should go?’
‘No, come along in, sir. Miss Sammi could do with company maybe. She’s had a tiring day.’
She’s had a change of heart towards me, he thought grimly as he waited in the sitting-room. I’m not such a threat after all. He glanced around the room, everything was the same, firelight flickering, the flowers shedding petals and a slight fragrance, yet it seemed somehow empty without Sammi’s presence. Just as home does, he mused. It hasn’t been the same since she left.
‘Miss Sammi said will you go up, Master Tom.’ Martha stood in the doorway, a look of disapproval on her face.
‘Up?’ He looked questioningly at the servant.
‘To Miss Victoria’s room,’ she said primly. ‘Nurse has gone for a rest and Miss Sammi doesn’t want to leave her sister. She said as you were to go on up,’ she added, as if to say that the decision wasn’t hers. She showed him upstairs and held open the door, then left, leaving it slightly ajar.
He tiptoed across the room to where Sammi was standing close to the bed. She wore a simple gown of grey, the folds falling softly about her. The room was lit by one low lamp and a small flickering fire; Victoria was asleep in the large bed, her face was pale but her breathing was regular.
Tom stood looking down at her. How long would they keep her? he wondered. She had suffered since childhood with her respiratory problems. Every harvest brought her difficulty as grain dust filled the air, and every winter the cold brought her low with bronchitis.
Sammi gave a deep shuddering breath beside him and he turned to her and took her hand. ‘I thought she was so much better yesterday?’ he whispered.
‘She was,’ she said quietly. ‘And then she had another attack. I’m so glad that you are here, Tom,’ she said tremulously. ‘I felt so lonely. So worried.’
He pulled a long stool up to the bed and bade her sit down, then sat beside her so that they could both keep watch. He put his arm around her and she leant against him. ‘You should have sent for me, Sammi. I would have come.’
‘I almost did,’ she said and put her head against his shoulder. ‘Then I thought of how worried you had been about Betsy and Uncle Thomas, and I didn’t want to bother you.’ She turned her face towards him. ‘Has Betsy come home?’
He shook his head. She was so close, so trusting. He would have to leave, he couldn’t bear the nearness of her, it was cutting him in two.
‘Tom! Where can she be?’
‘Still enjoying herself I shouldn’t wonder,’ he said acidly. ‘While we are all worrying about her.’
She didn’t answer, but anxiety showed on her face and he noticed dark shadows beneath her eyes as if she hadn’t slept.
‘Rest for a moment,’ he said, pulling her close once more. ‘You look tired.’ It is enough, he thought, that I can be of comfort to her. If it is the least I can be, then so be it.
Her hair bru
shed his cheek as she sat with her head against him and presently she mumbled softly, ‘I’m so glad that you are here, Tom.’ He didn’t answer, but just listened to her steady breathing and watched Victoria as she turned her head on the pillow and slipped into a deep slumber.
His arm began to get cramped and he shifted slightly. ‘Sammi,’ he whispered, ‘I have to go.’
She didn’t answer and he leaned his head forward to look at her: her eyes were closed and she was lost in sleep. He manoeuvred himself to his feet, and lifted her into his arms. Her head was in the crook of his arm and he stood for a moment just looking at her. Then he bent his head and kissed her lightly, his lips on hers. She moved slightly and sighed; he moved towards the door. Martha was coming up the stairs and she stopped as she saw them.
‘Ssh,’ he said softly. ‘Show me to Miss Sammi’s bedroom. She’s fast asleep.’
Martha, with tight lips, turned at the top of the stairs and took him along the landing to Sammi’s room. He remembered where it was, for he had been in it when they were children, but he didn’t recognize it now without the childish toys and hangings. This was a woman’s room, with swathed drapes and soft fragrance.
He carefully placed her on the bed and turned to go. ‘Miss Victoria’s asleep too, Martha,’ he said quietly, ‘but you’d better rouse the nurse to sit by her.’
‘Aye. I will. You can leave everything to me, Master Tom. You’ll want to be getting back home,’ she said firmly.
He nodded. He wanted to smile. If she had appeared a moment sooner, she would have thrown him out on his ears; as it was, he could sense her bristling disapproval at finding Sammi in his arms. But she wouldn’t say a word, of that he was sure.
Jenny was standing in the hall. She was wearing an outdoor cloak and a small bag was on the floor by her feet.
‘I hope I’m doing right, Master Tom.’ Martha followed him down the stairs. ‘I don’t want to step out of turn, and I would have asked Miss Sammi if she hadn’t been asleep, but I’ve told young Jenny she’s to go back with you.’
