by Diane Allen
3
Isabelle looked at her husband lying back in the unmade bed, half-asleep but half-awake as he listened to her ranting. She’d tossed and turned all night, thinking about the repercussions of her mother’s death. When she’d asked what was to become of Windfell, Archie had completely ignored her.
‘What if Mother has not left me Windfell? It’s my home. I hope she realized how much I love the place. You do know that my true father bought it? That’s why it should belong to me.’
James yawned and rubbed his head, giving up on getting any peace as he pulled the covers back and sat in his nightshirt on the side of the bed. ‘I thought your father was broke and beyond help, until your mother stepped in and saved the day.’ He relieved himself in the chamberpot and immediately regretted his response.
‘Oh, shut up. You know nothing when it comes to my family.’ Isabelle looked at her husband. ‘I’m beginning to realize that the family history I was told was perhaps a little bit in favour of my mother, especially if Windfell is not to be mine.’
‘All I know is that Archie has always been here for all of us, and your mother loved him,’ said James. ‘Besides, he didn’t say anything. Wait until you’ve spoken to the solicitor this afternoon. Old Walker will tell you everything.’ James pulled his nightshirt off and looked at his brooding wife. ‘Do you know how dark you look when you are in such a mood? Be thankful for what you have got, Isabelle, else it looks like you are a money-grabbing bitch. We’ve got Ingfield, thanks to your aunt, whom nobody had a good word for. It’s a grand house, with plenty of bedrooms and all you need in a home. What do you need Windfell Manor for?’
Isabelle stared at her husband and didn’t reply as she walked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and leaving James in no doubt that the day ahead was going to be a hard one. She walked along the long adjoining corridor, with its stained-glass window bearing the coat of arms of the Ingfield family upon it, and hesitated at the top of the stairs. Ingfield House, it was true, was a lovely home and she had been lucky to inherit it from her Aunt Dora, although that had only been by default, as Dora had died without making a will, leaving Isabelle – the closest and only traceable heir – to inherit all that was now around her.
She sighed; the shop in Skipton, a property and business in the Queens Arcade in Leeds and a rented shop in Bradford’s Foster Square she already knew were hers, as they were in her joint name with her mother. But the place she loved was Windfell, and her heart was yearning to own it. She felt her lip tremble and her eyes started to fill with tears. She broke down as she turned back towards her bedroom, sobbing uncontrollably as she met James on the landing.
‘Hey now, enough of this. Your mother was a good woman. She loved you; she will have done right by you. Have patience and wait until you hear what the solicitor has to say.’ James knew Isabelle had set her heart on the family home, and he knew how much it was hurting her to realize that possibly it was not going to be hers for the foreseeable future.
‘I don’t ask for much. But I just wanted Windfell. It’s right that Danny and Archie have Crummock, but I had my heart set on Windfell!’ She hid her face in James’s jacket, crying relentlessly as she remembered the days she had shared with her mother in her old home. How she missed both. Her mother was gone forever, and it had just hit her that she would never hear her voice and feel her kisses again. But she knew she would remember Charlotte every day if she lived at Windfell and spent her life alongside the spirit of her mother, which filled every nook and corner of the manor.
Danny sat across from his father and watched him as he finished his late, leisurely breakfast.
‘Are you alright this morning, Father? You looked tired last night, that is why I left you early.’ He watched as Archie drew breath between his two rashers of bacon – the same breakfast he’d eaten for as long as Danny could remember.
‘Aye, I’m alright; you have to be, haven’t you, lad? Moping about is not going to bring her back, no matter how much I miss her. Lottie was an exceptional woman, and I only hope Isabelle will take a leaf or two out of her book.’ Archie sipped his tea and looked across at his son. ‘Isabelle can be spiteful sometimes. She’s expecting to inherit everything, and I don’t like that.’ He stirred his tea and noticed the puzzlement on his son’s face. ‘Lottie has left Windfell to Isabelle, but only after my day – or until I feel I want to leave it. She’ll find out this afternoon; Charles Walker will tell her.’ Archie grinned. He loved Isabelle, but she had a lot of her true father in her, and he had ignored her prying at the funeral into what was to become of Windfell.
Danny sat back and looked at his father, who was a devil for keeping things to himself when he thought it was for the best.
‘Anyway there’s something I want you to ask Harriet, and I’ve something else to tell you – something I think you should know.’ Archie’s face clouded over.
‘Go on then, Father, tell me your worst.’ Danny waited.
‘Nay, we’ll go into the study. Give the servants the chance to clear my breakfast away.’ Archie looked at his one place setting on the large mahogany dining table, remembering that there used to be up to six places set most mornings, not that long ago. He rose from his chair and walked across to the study, Danny following behind him. ‘Shut the door, lad. I don’t want anyone to listen in.’
Danny sat down in the chair that Charlotte had loved so much, noticing the tapestry down by the side of the chair that had never been finished by her, and never would be now.
‘What’s wrong, Father? You’re not ill, are you?’ Danny looked at his father and noticed how worried he looked.
‘Nay, I’m fine. But I can’t see the point in rolling around this big house, and I hate them bloody stairs because of my bad knees – and Isabelle will not want me here, if I offer for her to move in with me. Besides, I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself when it comes to how they spoil Luke. Jane is another matter, but they’ve ruined that lad.’ Archie paused. ‘Would you and Harriet be able to put up with me at Crummock? It’s more where I belong; and Crummock, I know, will be yours after my day.’ Archie looked across at his son. He knew he was asking a lot, for Harriet would not welcome the news gladly.
‘Aye, heavens, Father. You don’t have to ask. I presume it’ll be your farm after today, and you know you can stay with us. It’ll save you trailing the road up to us, because it’s what you will do, if you live here alone or with Isabelle.’ Danny sighed and tried to smile in reassurance at his father, wondering how he was going to break the news to Harriet.
‘But what about Harriet – she’ll not want me under her feet?’ Archie knew what his son was thinking, realizing full well that Harriet would complain.
‘I’ll not have her say a bad word about it. We’ve two spare bedrooms, and we owe you and Charlotte for everything we have, so she will have to lump it,’ Danny blustered.
‘Right, if you are alright with that, then that’s what I’ll do, and then Isabelle can have her Windfell. It’s where she belongs; this was Lottie’s dream, not mine. I’d rather be sitting at Crummock’s kitchen table than at that big dumb thing in the dining room all by myself.’
‘Is there something else that’s bothering you? ‘Danny glanced at the worried-looking man across from him and waited. It seemed it was a morning of confessions.
‘Aye, this is why I wanted you to close the door.’ Archie hesitated. ‘I went to Ragged Hall the other day, as somebody told me Bill Brown wasn’t too well. So I went to see him, seeing as we’ve traded things together over the years. And that was when I saw his grandson. I nearly dropped down dead – he was the spit of you.’ Archie stopped in his tracks and looked across at his son. ‘The baby that Amy Brown was carrying all those years back was yours, lad, and he’s back: grown up and living with his grandfather.’
Danny stared at his father, not knowing what to say.
‘He even carries your name – Daniel. His grandfather said nowt, and I didn’t either, but I’m sure ol
d Bill knows he’s yours. It’s up to you to introduce yourself, if that’s what you want. I think the lad deserves to know who his true father is, and perhaps you could make up for all the lost years. But I thought it fair that I let you know my thoughts.’ Archie looked across at his son; he didn’t know what to advise: whether to leave the lad alone, or suggest that Danny go to Ragged Hall and make himself known. The decision had to be Danny’s.
Danny rubbed his hand through his hair. ‘I’ve never told Harriet about Amy Brown and me – let alone about the baby that I suspected was mine. We aren’t seeing eye-to-eye at the moment, as it is, as she’s never satisfied with her lot. Finding out I fathered a baby before we were married would be the final nail in the coffin.’
‘Aye, I’ve heard her moaning at you. She’ll not really want me living with you, but she might have to bite her tongue a bit, if she thinks I’m listening in. Wait until I’m there with you and then make up your mind. Daniel’s not going anywhere. Part of the reason he’s with his grandfather is that he and Amy’s husband don’t get on, so Bill told me. Her husband probably realizes that he’s got a cuckoo in his nest.’ Archie rubbed his hand over his knees because they were aching, and thought about the young man who had greeted him and taken him by surprise as he entered the yard of Ragged Hall.
‘Is he good-looking, Father? How tall is he? Does he really look like me?’ Danny leaned forward; he knew full well that, now he was aware of his son’s existence, he was going to have to meet him.
‘Aye, if you can remember yourself in the mirror from twenty years back, then he’s you. A bit thinner perhaps and doesn’t look right happy, but by the sounds of it he hasn’t had the best home life. He’s the oldest of five, and it’ll have been a struggle for your Amy, bringing them all up at Slaidburn.’ Archie noticed the look of concern on his son’s face.
‘And Amy – did Bill mention how she is doing?’ Danny remembered the wild young lass with dancing eyes who had captured his heart that long, hot summer. He should have married her, not Harriet, but the family had to come first back then.
‘He never mentioned her. Sorry, lad.’ Archie looked at the disappointment in his son’s eyes. ‘Best you think what to do about the lad, and leave Amy alone. Remember, you’ve responsibilities of your own; you’ve enough on your plate.’
‘I know, but I’ve never forgotten her.’ Danny hung his head.
‘No – nor I your mother. But they are both in the past. Anyway, I’ve told you my news. Think about it, but don’t go hurting your own family; they should come first. And today let’s go and face the music with Isabelle; she’ll be in a slightly better mood if she thinks she can move into Windfell and get rid of me from under its roof.’ Archie smiled as he watched his son struggle with the news. He wondered if he shouldn’t have told him about Daniel, but if his own son had been living across the other side of the dale, unbeknown to him, he’d have wanted to know. Whatever Danny did, it was up to him now.
Isabelle looked at Archie and wiped her nose and eyes as the family group stood outside the solicitor’s, after hearing the will being read. She looked at her family group. ‘Well, I didn’t know what to think when you ignored me yesterday, Father. As it stands, dear Mama has done right by all of us. I presume you will be staying at Windfell, Father?’ Isabelle looked for support from James as he stood next to Danny.
‘Nay, lass, you can have Windfell now. It’s of no use to me. I’ve decided to move out. I’ve asked Danny if I can move in with him and Harriet, then you can have your home back all to yourself. I need nowt with that big posh house. I hate climbing those bloody stairs. With hindsight, I should never have sold my father’s home of Butterfield Gap.’ Archie looked at Isabelle and watched as her eyes flashed, thinking of Windfell becoming her new home and the consequences of Archie moving into Crummock.
‘You are going to live at Crummock? Does Harriet know? She’ll not be very happy. She’s never happy about anything nowadays.’ Isabelle shot a glance at Danny. She was at the end of her tether with her sister-in-law and her surly ways.
‘Danny’s asking her later in the day. She’ll be right with it. After all Crummock will be theirs, after my day, and your mother gave her a sweetener when she left her those few shares in the firm. It’ll make Harriet think herself valued at long last.’ Archie looked sternly at Isabelle. ‘You be right with her, Isabelle – you and Harriet used to be so close. You just made different decisions, but Harriet deserves a bit of the profit from the shops.’ Archie had noticed Isabelle’s face cloud over when old Walker had disclosed a 10 per cent share in the chain of shops to go to Harriet.
‘I am right with her. It’s Harriet that’s got bitter and twisted over these last few years. I can’t help being me. She shouldn’t hide herself away so much up at Crummock. I’d welcome her back any day to help run things, if she would only ask.’ Isabelle was tired of trying to be all things to all people. She’d put every waking hour into her mother’s chain of shops, as well as having her two precious children, and hadn’t time for listening to the gripes and moans of Harriet.
‘Aye, well, she’s different from you. She prefers to be a wife and mother rather than a hard-headed businesswoman like you and your mother. Harriet lost two bairns, remember that. A mother never gets over losing a child.’ Archie looked at James and Danny, who were also like chalk and cheese but never spoke a bad word between them. If only the women of the family were like them. He watched as the two men shared a joke and laughed out loud as they turned to join in the conversation between Isabelle and Archie.
‘So, sir, you are to live with Danny?’ James looked with concern at Archie. ‘You don’t have to leave Windfell because of us; we are quite happy where we are at.’ He admired his down-to-earth father-in-law and felt that perhaps Archie was being hasty in his decision to live with his son.
‘Nay, lad, Windfell’s too big for one person. You will fill it well. Jane and Luke will enjoy living there and, besides, it’s where Isabelle belongs. I can help our Danny up at Crummock, and I’m sure Harriet will get used to me being about. I don’t take a lot of looking after.’ Danny smiled at James. He was not a hard northerner, but was softly spoken and gentle, perhaps too gentle for the hardheaded Isabelle.
‘As long as you are sure? You can return and live with us if you wish; there will always be a welcome, I’m sure.’ James shot a glance at Isabelle and noticed the dark look she gave him.
‘Nay, lad. Windfell can be all yours, once I’ve moved out. It’ll make life easier for all.’ Archie patted James on the back. ‘Now, I’m off for a gill in the King Billy – something I haven’t done for years. You lot get yourselves home and explain to your families what’s to happen next. I can do no more.’ Archie looked at his pocket watch. It was three o’clock; he’d have a gill and then get a carriage back home, just in time for his supper. He needed the peace, some time away from all the squabbling. He could just imagine the chatter and racket at both houses, once they were on their own and able to discuss their futures. Both siblings caused nothing but worry and were never satisfied with their lot. He’d just been happy with a full belly and a roof over his head, and hadn’t expected anything from his parents, when he was their age. Where did it all go wrong?
4
Isabelle stood in the hallway of the manor, looked around her and sighed. She was home. She’d always known Windfell would be hers one day, and although she was sad she had lost her mother, she was overjoyed that at last she could move her family there. The clock that Archie had brought from Butterfield Gap chimed, as if to remind her that Windfell was not quite hers yet – not until Archie signed it over to her, as he had agreed earlier in the week. ‘Well, you can be thrown out; you never did fit in with the rest of the house,’ she said to the chiming clock, as she stood with her hands on her hips. She remembered her mother putting up with it, after it was placed in the hallway on the death of Archie’s father. Nevertheless, it was going to be good to be back in her beloved bedroom, and to be able to walk
down the sweeping stairs knowing that now she was the new mistress of Windfell.
She turned as the front door opened, realizing that the summer’s day had slipped into a warm sultry evening and that James and her daughter Jane – the new apprentice – had just returned from their first day working together in the shop at Skipton. Her shop; the words seemed strange as she mulled them over in her head. The shop that she now owned, along with the one in Leeds and the one rented in Bradford.
‘Well, I can see what you’ve been doing all day, while Jane and I have been working hard to earn you more money.’ James hung up his bowler hat on the hatstand by the door and grinned at his wife. ‘Playing lady of the manor, by the looks of it.’
‘I have not, I’ve just been remembering how many good times we had here, and looking at what Father is taking with him and what needs doing before we move in next week.’ Isabelle linked her arm into James’s and smiled at Jane, who was yawning and looked tired, next to her father. ‘Tired after your first day at work?’
