Aye, you might well look like that, thought Agatha. That’s put the wind up you, hasn’t it? ‘I don’t think we would have been hard pressed as you put it. What does she do that a part-time housekeeper couldn’t? I can wash myself and you see to the disposal of the chamber pot and things of that nature. For years Hannah helped out in the shop, and now you say Bart is doing well enough.You’re surely not run off your feet down there, Edward. Not with the way things are at present. No one’s got any money to throw about, that’s for sure. To put it bluntly, sometimes I think Miriam imagines she’s your wife. Not me.’
Now she had really rattled him; she could see him wondering what she knew. Edward paid great store by his reputation as a comfortably well-off shopkeeper and pillar of the community; she knew he had been angling to get on the town council for years. One whiff of scandal and that would be put paid to, along with half their business most likely.
‘That new doctor that’s taken over from Dr Heath, Dr Clark, you know,’ she waited for him to nod his head, ‘I might do what he suggested and see one of them consultant people at the infirmary in the new year. Dr Heath would have been content for me to stay in this bed for ever as long as he had his payment each month when he called, but this one is a different kettle of fish. Young, up to date with all the new advances and what have you. He seems to think they might be able to do something for me. It would be a long job, he said, with me having been bed-bound for so long, but he reckons once the bleeding and pain is seen to I’d find myself with a new lease of life. What do you say about that?’
She stopped speaking and looked him straight in the eye. He returned her glance but paused before bringing himself to say, ‘Why - why haven’t you mentioned this before? I - this is the first you’ve said about an operation. ’
Yes, because she had wanted to choose her moment. She knew what Miriam had had in mind for years.The woman was like a vulture willing her to die so she could pick the bones of everything that made up her life - her home, the business and not least her husband. Oh yes, she had Miriam’s measure. And this was her Christmas box to her sister-in-law.
She watched her husband trying to conceal his agitation. She had never thought herself to be a vindictive woman. Until the last few years she would have labelled herself nice, forgiving, even overly soft-hearted, but since Dr Clark’s visit two weeks ago when she had caught a glimpse of a way out of this soft, comfortable hell, she had been forced to recognise she hadn’t known herself very well.
Becoming aware Edward was waiting for an answer, she roused herself. ‘Why haven’t I mentioned this before?’ She shrugged. ‘I suppose I wanted to get it clear in my mind first whether I was prepared to go the route of an operation. It’s no good seeing a consultant unless I’d do what he might say, is it?’
She waited to see if he would swallow the explanation.
‘I see.’ His lips moved one over the other as if he was sucking something from them. ‘And you are quite sure you would?’
‘Oh yes, Edward. Quite sure.’
Even at this late stage if he had reached out and taken her into his arms, said something encouraging along the lines that of course she must take the chance and he would be with her all the way, even then she might have found it in her heart to try and love him again. As it was he continued to drink his tea before rising and saying, ‘We’ll speak to Dr Clark again, you and I together so I can hear what he says. These young doctors are all very well with their modern ideas but not everything new is necessarily beneficial. An operation carries a high degree of risk and is not something to be undertaken lightly.’
If she had been wavering, this would have made up her mind for her. But she was already sure. She marvelled he knew her so little after twenty-two years of marriage. But at the moment she was still stuck in this bed and at the mercy of them both and so she nodded and said, ‘Quite.’ She had said enough to Dr Clark for him to suspect her husband might be awkward to deal with. He was a canny lad, Dr Clark.
‘Would you care for another cup of tea?’
She nodded again, letting him reach the door before she said quietly, ‘The next time Rose Wood calls in the shop, ask her to come up and have a word with me, would you?’
‘Rose Wood?’ He swung round, his voice high with surprise.
‘She’s Jake Fletcher’s mother and likely she has news of Hannah if she’s still staying with him at the farm.’
She saw his eyes blink rapidly for a moment. ‘Mrs Wood rarely comes into the shop, they can’t afford much these days. Like some others I could name, that family does most of its shopping at the market late at night when stuff’s marked down. But . . . but if I see her passing I’ll ask.’
Aye, and pigs fly. Agatha let her eyes rest on her husband for some seconds before she said, ‘Thank you, Edward.’
He hesitated, looking as though he was about to say something more but then he nodded and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
He did not walk through to the kitchen to pour his wife another cup of tea but instead joined Miriam in the sitting room. She was slouched in an armchair, a half-full box of chocolates at the side of her and a magazine in her hand. ‘What’s the matter?’ She stared at him as he stood just inside the room.
‘I’ll tell you what the matter is.You should have let her have Hannah’s letters like I told you. There was nothing in them she couldn’t have read.’
‘Well, we didn’t know that till I opened them, did we? And once I’d done that we couldn’t very well give her them then.’
‘She’s like a dog with a bone, she never lets up.’
‘She will, don’t fret.’
The irritation her casualness invoked came through in his voice when he said, ‘Do you want to know what she’s just told me?’
‘What?’ Miriam sat up in the chair. ‘What’s up?’
‘Her, or likely to be. This new doctor that’s took over, him that’s all bright eyed and bushy tailed, he’s told her to see a consultant at the hospital with a view to having some kind of operation. He reckons it’ll make a new woman out of her.’
Miriam stared at him.‘That’s ridiculous, she’s as weak as a kitten. Look how that cold she caught in October nearly finished her off. How does he think she could come through an operation?’
‘I’m just telling you what she said.’
‘And she’d do it? She’d have the operation if they asked her to?’
‘Oh aye, she’d have it all right.’
‘Then let her.’
‘What?’
Miriam did not look at him but took her time selecting a chocolate from the box beside her. ‘Let her have the operation if she’s set on it,’ she said flatly. ‘If that’s what this consultant she’s going to see recommends, let her have it. You couldn’t very well stop it anyway.’
Edward stood staring at her, an empty cup and saucer in either hand. ‘I thought . . .’
As his voice trailed away, Miriam looked up. ‘You thought I wouldn’t want her to have it?’
‘Well, aye. Aye, I did. If she was up on her feet again it’d mean . . . Well, what I mean is, it’d be nigh impossible for us to . . .’
‘I don’t think there’s much likelihood of Agatha getting on her feet again, operation or no operation. And before that happened she would have to come through the anaesthetic. From what I understand, you have to be as strong as a horse to withstand that.’
There was a long pause. ‘Then . . . then I should talk her out of it.’
‘Oh, don’t be so stupid, Edward.’ Miriam stubbed the words at him. ‘Not to mention hypocritical. You know as well as I do her days are numbered. Look at her, she’s skin and bone. And the bleeding, it’s worse than ever. What difference does it make if she goes quickly in an operation or lingers for months in the state she’s in now? An operation would be . . . merciful. Aye, merciful. That’s all I’m saying.’
In the ensuing silence, Edward watched as she took another chocolate and popped it in her mo
uth. She picked up the magazine from her lap, saying, ‘If you’re getting another cup of tea, I’d like one.’
He said nothing more before he left the room but once in the kitchen he stood with his hands palm down on the table and his head bent. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Miriam on the one hand and Aggie on the other. Did his wife know about Miriam? It seemed impossible she did or she’d say something, and yet . . . He wasn’t so sure. The Aggie who had spoken to him in the bedroom a few minutes ago was not the lass he had married or the invalid of the last years. Dear gussy . . . He groaned softly, shaking his head from side to side. If she did know and she got better, she’d make his life a living hell, any woman would. But on the other hand, if she didn’t come through the operation he’d have Miriam to contend with. He’d rather cut off his right hand than marry her, but she was a nasty bit of work, Miriam. Who knew what she’d do if she felt she was a woman scorned. He wouldn’t put it past her to approach Hannah and persuade the lass to tell tales out of school and then his name hereabouts would be mud. All in all he thought he’d rather take his chances with Aggie . . .
It was getting dark by the time Hannah heard the horse and trap return. Outside, the weather was thickening, the earlier sunshine having been overtaken by more storm clouds.
She had lit the oil lamps in the kitchen and hall and Seamus’s room, and was busy making sandwiches with the last of the Christmas turkey and baked stuffing when Jake walked in the kitchen, shaking the snow off his cap.
She smiled at him as he said, ‘We’re in for another packet right enough, it’s coming down thicker than ever. Old Isaac said we were in for a bad winter and he’s never wrong.’ He rubbed his boots on the cork mat and walked over to the red glow of the fire in the range, holding out his chilled hands to the warmth.
‘Isaac is always pessimistic,’ Hannah said indulgently. ‘In all the time I’ve been here I’ve never heard him predict anything good.’
‘That’s true.’ Jake turned his head, grinning. ‘And in that case I suppose he’s got to be right at least some of the time. It just seems like all the time but that’s probably because he isn’t shy about reminding you when things turn out the way he foretold.’
She was so glad he was home. To hide the emotion which had flooded her breast, she said quietly, ‘How did you find them all when you got to the house? Did your mother like the cake I sent? You did tell her it was specially from me?’
‘Those were the very words I used.’
Hannah had sent Rose one of the big round Christmas cakes Clara had helped her make at the beginning of November. She had made three in all, crammed with fruit and each one holding a good measure of cooking brandy. She had also loaded Jake up with a large slab of golden butter, a cold joint of cooked beef and several other goodies, and Jake had added several bottles of cider made from the farm’s apple trees. The best eating apples were laid out on newspaper in the attic ready for eating all through the winter months, but there were plenty of sour ones which were crushed in Seamus’s cider press and treated with yeast and other ingredients before the juice was put into barrels. Apparently Clover Farm’s cider was known for miles around for having a kick like a mule.
‘So how was everyone?’ she asked again.
‘About as you would expect.’ Jake took off his coat and the new muffler she had bought him for Christmas. She had bought a similar one for Seamus too, and in return the two men had presented her with a silver bracelet engraved with tiny flowers. She had left the charm bracelet her aunt and uncle had bought her at the flat and her mother hadn’t included it with her belongings. Not that she had worn it after she realised why her mother had been so put out when her uncle had bought her the gift.
Jake walked across to the table and reached for a morsel of turkey. He swallowed it before he said flatly, ‘It’s not a happy household, Hannah.’
No, she didn’t suppose it was. ‘Perhaps it will be better when things pick up again workwise. Less of a struggle, you know.’ She couldn’t bring herself to mention Lily.
Jake shook his head.‘I can’t see Wilbur working again. He’s had his card marked as a troublemaker. He was a puffler the last few years.’ At her look of inquiry, he said, ‘If any of the men’s wages was docked unfairly or they felt they should’ve been paid for wet work or gassy work or whatever, he was designated as the one who’d go and see the deputy, even the overman if needs be. He had some right rows with them about whether the gas was bad enough to affect the men’s breathing and how many lamps it’d put out, things like that. All very laudable, but Wilbur being Wilbur, he got under their skins. It’s one of the reasons they haven’t put Adam back at the face, if you ask me. The face is where the money is. As it is, Mam said he’s earning seventeen shillings and thruppence doing the sort of labouring work you do as a young lad. Fetching and carrying, passing stuff and tidying up after the skilled blokes, even shovelling pony muck. They’ll let him stew and get the message he’s going to have to keep his mouth shut, unlike his father, before he gets face work again.’
If it hadn’t been for this afternoon she would have found it in her to feel sorry for Adam.‘Seventeen shillings and thruppence and Naomi’s bit to support the whole lot of them?’
‘And Joe’s wage,’ said Jake mildly, sitting at the table.
‘But that’s not much after he’s paid Clara his board.’ All the men and women, the bairns who earned something too, would stand in line each week for their wages from Jake. As an inexperienced newcomer to the farm, Joe would be lucky to get half of what someone like Daniel would receive.
Jake glanced at her. ‘It’s not too bad.’
He was putting in money from his own pocket before he gave Rose Joe’s wage packet. Hannah didn’t know how she knew but she was sure of it. And although she knew he would be doing it purely for his mother and to alleviate her worry, it would also mean Wilbur was saved the indignity of having to go to the Guardians because they couldn’t manage on what was coming into the house. She stared at Jake. Quietly, she said, ‘Does Joe know you add to it each week before you hand it over?’
His eyes narrowed momentarily, then he smiled.‘Not much gets past you, does it? Aye, Joe knows. It’s our little secret.’
‘And your mother?’
‘Joe’s wage packet is Joe’s wage packet as far as she’s concerned. There’s no need for her to know different. If it slipped out and Wilbur got to know . . .’ He shrugged. ‘Let’s just say it’d make life difficult for my mam. Not that he’d tell her to stop accepting it, mind.’ He stopped, shaking his head, and the words came slow and deep as he said, ‘Why she ever married him is beyond me. She didn’t have to.We lived with her parents and my grandmother looked after me while she worked.’
‘Perhaps she missed your father.’
‘She had her parents and me.’
‘But she might have been lonely for . . . Well, a partner. You know?’
It was some seconds before he answered, ‘Aye, I know,’ and he stood up as he did so. ‘I’ll go and have a word with Seamus before I have my tea. Do you want me to take a tray up for him?’
‘I haven’t mashed the tea yet. You go up and I’ll bring his tray shortly.’
When Jake had left the kitchen, Hannah stood biting her lip and berating herself for her thoughtlessness.That had been a silly thing to say, why didn’t she think before she spoke? He was the last person on earth she wanted to upset. But if she said anything now, it would make things worse.
She began to busy herself with setting the table for the two of them and seeing to Seamus’s tray, her movements jerky with her agitation and the encounter with Adam relegated to the back of her mind. Trying to justify herself, she thought, it wasn’t as if he had to be by himself. It was his choice. Since Joe had begun work at the farm he’d told her it was common knowledge among the farm folk that Grace Osborne had liked Jake for ages. Apparently Grace had cried buckets when Farmer Dobson’s daughter had made it plain how she felt about him, only pul
ling herself together when it became apparent Jake had no intention of responding to the farmer’s daughter’s overtures either.
Hannah had been surprised at first by what Joe had said, but the more she had thought about it, the more she’d acknowledged that Jake did have something about him in spite of his scars. Or perhaps because of them. Oh, she didn’t know. And she couldn’t think about this now, her head felt as though it was going to explode. One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t be sorry to see the end of this year once Christmas was over.Whatever happened in 1927 it couldn’t be as traumatic as 1926.
PART FOUR
1927 - The New Life
Chapter 15
It was now August 1927 and life had gone on quite smoothly on the whole since Christmas. True, Seamus’s health had deteriorated and he was confined to bed permanently, but he was reasonably cheerful about it most of the time.Shortly after Christmas he had suffered another heart attack and Jake had taken the decision to convert the dining room into a bed-sitting room for the farmer. This had been partly so Seamus could feel he was still part of the day-to-day life of the farm - the view from the dining room’s large windows, next to which Seamus’s bed had been placed, encompassed the lane which led to the pigsties and barns and was always a hive of activity - but also because it was more practical for Hannah who had taken on the daily care and nursing of the elderly man. She had done this willingly, glad she could repay the farmer in some measure for his kindness to her, and her attitude had gone a long way to settling Seamus.
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