by Diane Allen
‘It stinks, I don’t know how anyone can wear it,’ growled Jane as she watched Rosie place the precious bottle in her pocket.
‘It can’t smell that badly – it’s one of our leading sellers, Miss Jane. Perhaps it is a matter of differing tastes.’ Bert grinned. ‘Now, I’d better get on with my work, but do mention me to your mother, Rosie, and tell her that I’m glad to see her back within these walls.’
‘I will, Mr Bannister, and thank you for the perfume.’ Rosie smiled.
‘No problem, lass. I know it’s gone to a good home, someone who will appreciate it.’ He threw a knowing look at Jane as he made his way down to the bottom of the warehouse.
‘I think old Bert is losing it a bit; all he talks about is the good old days. He never talks about the here and now, and it is always about Grandmama and when he first worked for her. I swear he doesn’t like me, although he seems to like you well enough, giving you some of Mother’s products to take home with you.’ Jane looked at Rosie, who was handling her precious gift.
‘I can give it back to you, if Bert shouldn’t have given me it. I don’t want to get him into trouble.’ Rosie touched the bottle and hoped that she could keep it.
‘No, Mama won’t mind. It’s only cheap stuff and, as I say, it stinks, despite what Bert says. I wouldn’t be seen dead wearing it.’ Jane put her nose in the air and walked through the shop floor, strutting like a prize peacock, ignoring the shop girls and smiling a sickly grin at the customers she knew. ‘We only attract the best customers at Atkinson’s; they deserve the best, and that is what I will definitely give them, once the store is mine.’
Rosie listened and watched as her cousin showed her all the way round the store. She was amazed at all that was on offer and at the number of customers the goods attracted, but what also amazed her was Jane’s arrogance. She only worked in the warehouse with Bert and was still learning the job, with fewer responsibilities than she herself had back at Crummock Farm. Jane’s mother might own most of the firm, but Rosie’s mother owned a part of it, too – a fact that Jane was definitely overlooking. Rosie breathed out with relief when they finally climbed the stairs to join their parents in the tea-room. She’d had enough of the precious Jane and her forthright views, and was ready for home.
‘So, I can’t entice you back for a day or two each week? Just to take fittings and help Madge Burton, while I look over the accounts and do the other things that I now find myself doing.’ Isabelle lifted her teacup to her lips, curling her little finger elegantly as she sipped.
‘I’m sorry, but no, those days have gone. I’ve got the children and the farm and, now that Archie is living with us, he takes looking after as well. He’s not as good on his legs as he used to be.’ Harriet shook her head. She had been tempted as she looked through the design books and at work in progress in the busy cutting room. It had reminded her of the love she had once felt for her work. But she knew her place was at Crummock, helping Danny with the farm and bringing up her children.
‘You could bring baby Georgina with you, and you need only work when Ben is at school. Surely Rosie is old enough to take on some more responsibilities, like my Jane? After all, she’s not far off seventeen.’ Isabelle smiled at her sister-in-law. She’d noticed the glint in Harriet’s eye as she looked around the cutting and fitting room; there was still a love of fashion running through her veins. A love that she aimed to rekindle.
‘Rosie has enough on. Besides, she helps her father more than me, as she loves the farm more than housework.’ Harriet smiled at her daughter and caught a smirk on Jane’s face; a smirk that she would have liked to wipe off it, if Jane’s mother had not been there.
‘Well, think about it. You don’t have to decide here and now. I’m just glad we are back on better terms with one another, and that I had the chance to tell you how much I have missed you.’ Isabelle looked across at Rosie. ‘You know, your mother is a wonderful seamstress – a hundred times better than the one I’ve got at present. I do wish that you’d try to persuade her, my dear.’
Rosie glanced at her mother and then smiled at her aunt. She knew why her mother didn’t want to return to work at Atkinson’s. It was true, Harriet did live for her children and the farm, but Rosie also knew that deep down Harriet did not want to become involved in family politics again. That was what had torn the family apart previously, and it was likely to continue to put strain on the situation for some time, if Jane was ever put in charge of the firm.
‘It’s up to Mother, Aunt Isabelle, but I will try and persuade her, if you wish,’ said Rosie. She glanced at her dark-faced uncle, who definitely did not look amused at her aunt’s suggestion.
‘Thank you, my dear. I hope Jane looked after you this afternoon? She’s such a well-mannered young lady that I’m sure she did. I think I’ve taught her well.’ Isabelle glanced at her daughter.
‘She was the perfect host, Aunt Isabelle, thank you,’ said Rosie. Although she didn’t enjoy it, she could play the game as well as anyone else.
11
‘Well, how did you go on today with Isabelle?’ Danny looked across the table at Harriet.
‘Alright. I think she wants me to come back and join her again.’ Harriet looked at her father-in-law as he grunted.
‘Missing her mother’s work already, is she? She never was one for hard work.’ Archie looked up from his supper plate and thought of the hours that his darling Lottie had given to Atkinson’s. The hours that his stepdaughter was now beginning to appreciate.
‘I might be wrong, but I don’t think she likes her new seamstress, although even I found her a bit demanding. She’s only young, but she has this air of complete confidence about her.’ Harriet had not been impressed by her first meeting with Madge. It had only been brief, but she could see why Madge perhaps did not fit into the ethics of Atkinson’s.
‘It’s called being young, my dear. Can’t you remember when you and Isabelle had your first shop in Settle? You would have taken on the world, back then. Besides, our Isabelle can be a funny one, and you of all people should know that.’ Danny sat back in his chair and smiled at Harriet. ‘Would you like to go back and do a few hours? It would probably do you good. Rosie can do a bit more around the house, and we could always get somebody else in for a few days. I can tell that you’ve missed it – you look full of life this evening.’ Danny was pleased that Harriet had enjoyed her day with his stepsister. It had been a long time in coming, but the wounds were gradually healing.
‘I don’t know, I’ll think about it. Georgina is still so young. Perhaps in another few years; then it gives Rosie more time to enjoy her life before settling down in her own marriage and home.’ Harriet drank her tea and smiled.
‘Where is Rosie anyway? I know Ben and Georgina are in bed, but Rosie is usually around the table with us.’ Danny breathed in and watched as his father finished his supper.
‘She asked if she could take some bread and cheese and a piece of bannock for her supper. She’s been cooped up with Jane all day today, and you know she hates not being outside, so she said she was going for a wander before it gets dark. She’ll not have gone far, she’ll be back before nightfall.’ Harriet stood up and collected the dirty plates.
‘I’d want to be out and all, if I’d been with Jane all day,’ said Archie. ‘I used to think she took after my Lottie, but lately she’s got an edge to her. One I don’t like. I think I might have to bring her up sharply soon. She should be a kinder soul. Not everyone is as privileged as her, she should remember that,’ he commented as he made his way from the kitchen table to his usual resting place next to the kitchen fire. He sat down in his trusted Windsor chair and reached for his pipe from above the fireplace. ‘She does right, does Rosie. She needs a bit of fresh mountain air to clear her head of all the sarcastic remarks she will have had to have put up with today. I don’t blame her.’ He lit his pipe with a spill and leaned back and looked at his son. ‘She’s like you, is your Rosie. Happy with the land, and doesn’t wan
t owt else.’
‘She’s growing up, Father. Soon lads will be coming a-calling.’ Danny joined his father, sitting across from him next to the fire.
‘Time enough for that yet, lad. Let her enjoy trailing the fells first. Then she can find herself a fella.’ Archie puffed on his pipe, content with his lot. He loved Rosie; she was a grand lass and he hoped she would stay young and innocent for as long as possible, God willing.
‘I thought you were never coming!’ Ethan propped himself up on one elbow and looked across at Rosie as she ran across the clapper bridge to the grassy bank where he lay.
‘I couldn’t make it too obvious. Besides, I’d the dogs to feed and the eggs to collect, as I’d missed doing that this morning, with going to Skipton.’ Rosie sat down beside him and kissed him quickly on the cheek. ‘Don’t complain anyway, I’ve brought us both our suppers. Mother said I’d to help myself to cheese and bread and a bannock, so I made sure there was enough for both of us.’ She untied the napkin that held their supper and laid the contents out amongst the grass and flowers that grew on the banks of the river at the wash-dubs.
‘That looks bloody good. Here, let me supply the pudding.’ Ethan leaned over to the side of the dry limestone wall that stood behind him and pulled some small wild bilberries from the stumpy, wiry bush that grew below it. ‘And this is for my girl, to match her eyes.’ He leaned over again and picked a sky-blue scabious, then placed it behind Rosie’s ear, kissing her as he did so and touching her cheeks lovingly with his hand.
‘We shouldn’t, Ethan, we vowed we would just be good friends.’ Rosie blushed and looked coyly at him.
‘I can’t help it – you know I can’t. I feel different when I’m with you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. This evening couldn’t come quick enough.’ Ethan kissed her again and held her in his arms.
‘Me, too. I hated my time with Jane. She is such a clever devil, but, in all honesty, knows nothing.’ Rosie lay back in Ethan’s arms. His breath was slow and sure next to her and she let her fingers trace the opening of his shirt, which revealed the dark hairs of his chest.
‘Don’t! Now you are teasing and I don’t think I can control myself.’ Ethan sighed. ‘You know, I do think a lot of you. But you also know that what we are doing is wrong – your father and grandfather would kill me, as would my father. Well, you saw last time what my own father would do to me.’
‘Well, they are not about to find out. I’m not going to say anything, and who else is there to witness our meetings? I think I love you, Ethan, I really do.’ Rosie rolled onto her side and looked into his eyes as she opened his shirt more and ran her hands over his chest as she kissed him.
‘Rosie, my Rosie, we shouldn’t, you know we shouldn’t.’ He breathed in deeply and kissed her hard on the mouth, before rolling her onto her back and lying upon her. ‘I’ll be gentle, I promise. This is our secret,’ he whispered as he pulled her skirts up and undid his buttons. He’d been waiting for this moment all summer and could resist no longer.
‘You do love me, don’t you, Ethan?’ Rosie whispered, her heart pounding as he could hold back no longer. But Ethan didn’t reply, he just kissed her and carried on undoing his trousers, before entering her and taking over her body with every thrust that he made. She winced with both the pain and the thrill of having sex with her wild lover. ‘You do love me. Don’t you?’ she whispered again. But Ethan still didn’t reply, as he put his finger to her mouth and smiled down at her. She’d given herself willingly to him and now he was making sure he enjoyed his innocent farm girl.
The bread and cheese had gone stale in the dying summer’s sun, untouched and unwanted, as they lay back in one another’s arms and thought about what they had just done.
Rosie pulled her skirts down and didn’t know if she wanted to cry or laugh. She’d taken part in something that, up until now, she had only seen animals do, but she knew what the consequences might be. She lay back and worried. It had been her fault, as she had teased Ethan; she should have known what she was leading him towards, and that a decent woman would have waited until they were married.
‘What if I’m . . .?’ She turned and looked at Ethan.
‘You won’t be, I pulled out in time. You’ll be fine – stop worrying. That’s the last thing we both need. I’m not that daft.’ Ethan sat up and looked across the trickling stream as a dragonfly darted and skimmed over the waters in the dying light. In truth, he didn’t know for certain, but he hoped nothing would come of the dalliance. ‘The sun’s going down, you’d better be off, or else you’ll have to answer to your father.’ He got up onto his feet and offered Rosie his hand. She took it and pulled herself up next to him. ‘Stop worrying, you’ll be fine.’ He kissed her on her cheek.
‘I’m sure I will, but I can’t help worrying. I shouldn’t have egged you on; it was my fault.’ Rosie smoothed her skirts and threw the wasted bread and cheese into the river, before picking up the napkin.
‘It was both our faults,’ Ethan said, as he kissed her once more. ‘Now, get yourself home. I’ll walk up by the Wharfe track, just in case someone comes looking for you. You go up the home track, it’s not as far.’ He held her at arm’s length and noticed she was near crying. ‘Don’t cry, you’ll be fine.’
‘I know, but if I’m not . . . you’ll stand by me?’ Rosie whispered.
‘Of course. But it hasn’t come to that yet. Now, go.’ Ethan watched as Rosie balanced over the clapper bridge and made her way home along the lane. He stood and looked over to the rocky outcrop of Norber and watched the sun slowly sink, filling the sky with oranges and pinks as it disappeared from sight.
What had he done? He didn’t even know if he did love her, in truth. Rosie was just a young girl, and he had known she would be an easy first conquest. Tomorrow he would tell her not to visit him in the loft. After all, the Irishmen were coming to help with hay-time and he didn’t want them knowing their secret. It would give them both time to come to their senses.
12
‘Doesn’t Luke look smart? Just look at him in his uniform, like a true soldier.’ Isabelle gazed proudly at her young son, dressed in his latest cadet’s uniform, with his Lee Enfield rifle strapped over his shoulder. He stood in front of both of his parents in his khaki breeches and tunic, peaked cap, knee-length puttees and brown leather boots, loaded down with belts and ammunition pouches. The brass badges on his shoulders and cap, stamped with ‘Giggleswick OTC School’, shone in the sun.
‘I’m lucky to have got this rifle.’ Luke grinned. ‘My mate Palmer still has to use his old Martini–Henri carbine, which is really heavy to carry when you have the full kit on, and it only fires blanks.’ He touched and stroked his rifle lovingly and smiled at his father as he did so.
‘Just mind what you are doing with the thing. I never have liked guns. I still can’t believe that Giggleswick School has been given a sub-target machine. I don’t think they should really be offering military training. I really don’t believe in this wave of militarism that is sweeping through the school.’ James looked up from his paper and scowled at his young son. ‘Besides, that uniform has cost all of thirty shillings, and that is on top of the subscription of seven-and-six, and the use of that damn rifle at two-and-six per term. You’d think we were made of money. And for what – for our son to learn to kill someone or perhaps be killed, if a war comes?’
‘James, we are not at war, nor likely to be. This makes our Luke happy and he’s good at it. Captain Pierce said Luke was one of this year’s leading cadets. He’s already put his name down to go to Hagley Park next year, to train with cadets from Eton and Harrow and elsewhere in the country. You should be proud of him.’ Isabelle smiled at Luke, who looked a little crestfallen. ‘Luke, sing your father the song that I heard you and the other cadets singing about Giggleswick forming a military band – you know, the one that is sung along to the tune of “The British Grenadiers”.’
‘Do I have to, Mother? Father is obviously not impressed.�
� Luke stood uncomfortably and ran his finger around his high-collared tunic.
‘Yes, go on, and then he will understand the pride that you boys have in being an officer-in-training at Giggleswick.’
James sighed as his son stood awkwardly in front of him and started to sing:
‘Our numbers have increased this term; our Recruitment Sergeant’s grand.
To make us quite complete, we lack but a stirring military band;
And if our CO speaks the truth, next term there’ll surely be
An ear-splitting Rat-a-plan, Toot, Toot, Toot, from the Giggleswick OTC.’
Luke breathed in deeply as he finished and looked across at his father, waiting for any praise that might come his way.
‘Perhaps you would be better joining that band, instead of being so handy with that gun of yours. But, as per usual, your mother will decide, and I will not be listened to.’ James rose from his seat and walked away from his wife and son, who was intent on going down the military path even though there was unrest in the world. Neither of them knew what they were doing; to Luke, it was just a game, and in Isabelle’s eyes he was doing something she could be proud of.
‘Don’t listen to your father, he’s just in one of his moods. You concentrate on doing as well as you can in all your subjects, and with the OTC. I can see you making an officer, if what Captain Pierce says is correct.’ Isabelle smiled at her son.
