by Diane Allen
‘Yes, Mother, I enjoy my role in the cadets. I feel that I’m doing something special for my country. And Father is right that we are training in case war ever comes, but I’m not even seventeen yet, so I’d be too young to go anyway.’
‘Don’t talk of such things. War will never happen, despite the war in the Balkans, and Germany building up its naval fleet. Prime Minister Asquith is anti-war, and he’ll not let Britain get drawn into anything. You enjoy the training. I’ll settle your father down, and he’ll come round to the idea.’ Isabelle watched as her son left the room. Perhaps James was right, and perhaps Luke should not be training as a soldier; but as Archie had said, it was giving her boy discipline and a purpose in life, and Luke was good at it.
James walked out of Windfell, slamming the door behind him as he put on his jerkin and new motorcycle goggles. He needed to get away from his family, and his new acquisition was calling him – as well as his mistress – as he strode across the pebbled driveway to where it stood.
‘Going for a ride out, sir?’ Jethro looked at his master, dressed in his new attire, and watched as he lovingly rubbed his hands along the handlebars of his motorcycle.
‘I am, Jethro. I thought I’d have a ride down the road and happen up to Ingleton. I’m still getting used to what my machine can do. Isn’t it beautiful?’ James stood back and looked at the Scott motorcycle that he had acquired through the new motorcycle company based in Saltaire. ‘She’s a twin-stroke, you know? I’ve got her to go as fast as thirty miles an hour – it feels like you are flying.’ James smiled at Jethro, who was shaking his head.
‘You’d not get me on the back of one of them. Give me a horse any day. They are a lot less noisy, for a start, and probably more reliable. And I haven’t got a clue what a twin-stroke is, so you’re wasting your breath telling me that.’ Jethro thought nowt of the new machine that was his master’s pride and joy. ‘What do you want to go that fast for, anyway?’ He watched as James put his leg over the motorcycle and beamed as he pulled his goggles down, before kick-starting it into action.
‘Until you’ve done it, Jethro, you don’t know what it feels like. Otherwise, you’d want to do it,’ James shouted above the roar of the engine, urging it into action as Jethro looked on.
Jethro shook his head again as the smell of fumes filled the yard, and he listened as James and the motorcycle made their way out of the drive of Windfell Manor and down the road towards Settle. Give him a horse any day, not a noisy heap of metal. These young folk, with their new ideas, had no respect of the old ways. He shook his head again and made for his beloved horses; at least they showed him respect.
James sat back on the bike’s seat. He could feel the purr of the engine beneath his legs. He felt he was completely in control of the machine. It made him feel like the man he had longed to be for some time, especially now that he had Madge hanging on his every word and giving him her complete attention, unlike Isabelle. His life was beginning to be more bearable.
He smiled to himself as he let out the bike’s throttle to climb the steep hill – called Buckhaw Brow – outside the village of Giggleswick and then cut off along the rutted road to the small hamlet of Feizor. He couldn’t wait to hear what Madge had to say, once she saw him on his motorcycle. He knew her reaction would be different from that of Isabelle, who had moaned about what it had cost and the fact that she had no intention of ever being seen on the thing. He made his way across the small ford that ran through the hamlet of Feizor and hoped that the motorcycle wouldn’t splutter and fail as he came out the other side and drove it over the limestone roadway to the cottage where Madge lived.
‘Oh, my Lord! you’ve gone and got one of those contraptions,’ Madge squealed as she opened the door, wondering what the noise was outside her quiet home. ‘You’ve come to see me on it. Everyone will be talking!’ She giggled and screamed as she looked at her lover, whilst he took his goggles off and brushed back his greying hair. She gasped as she gazed at the bike in amazement, and then kissed James on the cheek. ‘I’ve got to have a go on it, you’ve got to give me a ride!’ she shouted as she walked around the bike, looking at every inch of it.
‘I don’t know, Madge. I’m only just learning to handle it myself. Besides, it’s not very ladylike. You’d have to pull your skirts up and sit in tight next to me. What if someone sees you?’ James looked shocked.
‘I don’t care, I’ve got to have a go.’ Madge hoisted her skirts up and sat sharply on the small leather seat, holding James close to her on the back of the bike.
‘Mind your legs – the exhaust is hot, it will burn them. Tuck your skirts in tight, I don’t want them catching in the chain. I don’t think we should do this, Madge.’ James breathed in deeply – he didn’t want her to think he was not man enough to be seen with her behind him – and decided to kick-start his bike with her still on it. The closeness of her body to his made him forget his fears and he shouted above the roar of the engine, ‘Hold on tight and remember, mind your skirts.’
They made their way unsteadily down the rough road from Feizor and then onto the better road that led back down Buckhaw Brow into Giggleswick and Settle. Madge laughed and screamed at every corner, as James tried to counterbalance the weight behind him, stopping at the top of the brow of the hill and looking down upon the slate roofs of the houses of Settle in the valley below.
‘Go on – what have we stopped for? Take me down, I dare you!’ Madge laughed and urged him on as she pulled her long, knotted scarf around her neck and checked her hair. ‘Are you frightened that we might be seen? Or is it that the bike’s too big for you?’ She giggled, squeezing him tight.
‘No, it’s just that I shouldn’t be on it with you. The bike’s new to me. And I worry what people will think of you, if they see us together.’ James put both of his feet on the ground and steadied the two of them.
‘There’s no one about. Look, you can see the road is clear almost until Settle. People are eventually going to know about us anyway, if your promise to leave Isabelle for me is true,’ she cried. ‘Go on, keep driving, then turn around and take me back home. I’ll have had my thrills for the day by then.’ Madge kissed him on the ear and hugged him close. ‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘You know I love you.’
James breathed in deeply. Despite his better judgement, he fired the engine up and started down the hill. Madge screamed with delight and her scarf flew like a pennant behind her. The road dipped and the wind lessened, making the scarf fly low and limp, until it dragged downwards near the back-wheel sprocket and chain. She paid it no heed as the bike built up speed and she screamed with excitement. But all too quickly her screams of joy turned to screams of panic, as the scarf became entwined in the motorcycle’s chain and back wheel, pulling at Madge’s neck and making her unable to breathe. The scarf became more and more entwined as the motorbike picked up speed and dragged her from behind James. She tried to yell and scream and she clawed at James to save her, as she and the bike flew across the road, unseating James and leaving Madge, still and unbreathing, on the stony road of Buckhaw Brow. Battered and bleeding and with a broken neck, her body was lifeless. The scarf was still entwined in the gears of the motorbike, while its wheels continued to turn.
James lifted his head. His leg hurt and he could see that blood was beginning to pour and seep into his moleskin trousers, leaving a dark-red pool on the white of the stony road. ‘Madge, Madge!’ he yelled as he dragged himself across to her, every inch of road being more painful than the first. His face and arms became peppered with grit and stones as he pulled himself over to where Madge lay, and he realized that he must have broken his leg, as he pulled at the body of his love. He looked at the twisted scarf and the once-beautiful face of the carefree woman who had been so full of life until a few minutes before. Now she was covered with blood, bashed and torn as the bike pulled her underneath it.
‘What have I done? I knew you shouldn’t have got on it – you knew I was worried about your skirts. Why didn’t yo
u think to secure your scarf?’ He sobbed and then winced in pain. The two loves of his life lay broken and exposed on the wild fellside, with the sun glistening on Madge’s blonde hair and on the gleaming metal bike frame. James lay back and looked up at the sky. His head felt faint and his stomach was nauseous. God, what had he done? How was he ever going to live with himself? And how would he explain Madge’s death to Isabelle? She’d never understand, and he knew she would never, ever forgive him.
13
‘Dr Burrows has gone. He’s happy with your progress.’ Isabelle pulled the morning room’s door to and sat down next to James. She glanced at him, sitting upright in his invalid chair, and breathed in deeply. She couldn’t bear the sight of him at the moment; he’d bought shame on her family and, most of all, to her. They were the talk of the community.
James looked at Isabelle. She had hardly spoken to him since the afternoon the Bradley brothers had carried him into Windfell, after finding him unconscious and Madge dead and broken on the road at Buckhaw Brow.
‘Isabelle, I’m sorry. How many times have I to tell you that I’m sorry?’ James held out his hand for her to hold.
‘Sorry – you’re sorry. Sorry that you were found out, and that Madge Burton is dead because of your unfaithfulness. That’s all you are sorry about. I should throw you out, along with that awful machine, but I’ve to think of our family. So just be grateful that you still have a roof over your head and that I’m even talking to you.’ She glared at him.
‘Madge meant nothing to me. I keep telling you: she just saw me riding my motorcycle on the road to Ingleton and begged for a ride. How could I refuse her? You know what she was like. I just wish both of us had not been so foolish.’ James looked out of the window, unable to keep eye contact with her. He knew she knew that he was lying.
‘So that’s why all the locals are talking about you calling at Madge’s door at all hours of the day and night. And I suppose there is a valid reason for all the staff at Atkinson’s to be smirking and talking about your little tête-à-têtes with Madge behind my back. I must have been blind and stupid!’ Isabelle pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. ‘This isn’t the first time a man thinks that I’m too stupid to realize what’s going on under my nose. But this time it’s not going to get the better of me.’
‘I don’t think you are stupid. Honestly, there was nothing going on. People gossip, you know that. They put two and two together and make six. I just wish poor Madge was still alive to back me up. I’d do anything for her to be here, standing now in front of us both.’ James sighed and tried to get comfortable in his invalid chair as he gingerly moved his splintered leg.
‘I bet you do. I suppose you’d rather it was me they were burying on Tuesday, and not Madge. That would have been more convenient for you.’ Isabelle breathed in deeply, waiting for the next round of attack.
‘The funeral’s set for Tuesday then. I must try and go.’ James looked down at his broken leg.
‘You will not even think of it. You’ve brought enough disgrace to this house, without showing up at her funeral. I personally hope she’s rotting in hell, the little hussy. I gave her a good job, paid her well and gave her responsibilities. But no, Madge was not happy with that; she wanted my husband and, like a fool, he fell for her charms. To think that I even let you go to Leeds together. I bet, if I checked, there would be a room for that date at the Queens booked in your name. I’ll go to the funeral. I’ll hold my head up high and suffer the indignant looks that people will give me. We owe her parents that much at least.’
Isabelle turned round in her seat and opened the rolltop desk that her mother had sat at when she was alive; she couldn’t help but think of how her mother must have felt when she discovered that Joseph Dawson, her husband and Isabelle’s father, had another woman in his life. It had been the making of Charlotte Atkinson in the long run. She herself would just have to ensure that James had not endangered her family and all their futures.
‘Aye, Isabelle, I’ve heard your news.’ Danny looked across at his sister and felt for her.
Archie looked up from lighting his pipe and also looked at Isabelle. ‘I’d never have thought James was capable of that. I always thought he’d eyes for nobody but you. Folk are awful gossips, and sometimes they get it wrong. It’s a sad do that the lass died, like, but happen best that she’s out of the picture, as it is.’ Archie noticed how crestfallen Isabelle appeared. Usually she was as hard as nails, but today she looked vulnerable.
‘Father, I meant that we’d heard about Madge dying and that James broke his leg. Not the other rubbish that folk are gossiping and saying.’ Danny quickly corrected his father and gave a pleading look for help to Harriet, as she placed a cup of tea down beside her sister-in-law.
‘You don’t have to pussyfoot around me. I know the stories and I can tell you now that they are probably true, although at the moment James denies it all. But I can tell when he’s lying, and he has not been acting himself these last few months, so I knew something was wrong, but didn’t know what.’ Isabelle pulled off her crocheted gloves and took a sip of her tea. ‘I just hope the children don’t hear. People can be so cruel, and I have made a few enemies of late. It’s not easy following in Mother’s footsteps.’
‘Oh, Isabelle, I’m so sorry. You must be hurting. I would really like to say what I think to James and give him a piece of my mind. I knew I didn’t like that Madge as soon as I saw her at Atkinson’s. There was just something about her, as if she had one-up over everybody else. I shouldn’t talk ill of the dead, but that is how I felt, as if she was superior to us.’ Harriet put her hand on Isabelle’s arm and squeezed it lovingly.
‘I’ve been blind, but life goes on. We will have to try and make the best of it. I think, looking back, that Bert Bannister tried to tell me a few weeks ago, but I didn’t take the hint. I wish he’d come straight out with it. At least then Madge would still be alive.’ Isabelle dropped her head and stared into her teacup.
‘Bert always did know everything. That’s why your mother thought a lot of him. He always looked out for my Lottie. He’s a good man, but getting a bit long in the tooth, like us all.’ Archie stared out of the kitchen window and looked wistfully across the valley below to his first home of Eldroth.
‘Are you off to the funeral? And what are you going to do at Atkinson’s? James won’t be able to open the studio up for a while, and you’ll need a new seamstress.’ Danny sat back in his chair and looked at his sister. He was certain she hadn’t come to Crummock on a social visit. She was here for a reason, and it would probably involve Atkinson’s.
‘I’m closing the studio for a few months, until James gets back on his feet. As for a new seamstress, I don’t know what to do. I’m at a loss and my order books are full.’ Isabelle paused and then looked up at Harriet. ‘I don’t suppose I could ask for your help, Harriet? Just for a few weeks, until I find a replacement? I’d arrange transport there and back for you, and pay you a wage. I’d even employ a first-class nanny to look after Georgina. It would be such a help and I’d be so grateful.’
Harriet looked across at Isabelle. She knew that what Isabelle was saying was genuine, but she hesitated in answering.
‘I really am in a mess and I need those that I trust and love around me. Just as you helped once before, when you gave me the strength to pick myself up and move on when I was hurt by that awful man, John Sidgwick. Help me again, Harriet, please.’
‘I don’t know. Georgina is still young and there’s the house and the farm. We’ve only just finished hay-time, and it will be winter before we know it. I’d like to, but I already have enough on my plate.’ Harriet saw all eyes watching her make her decision.
‘Rosie will look after the house; it’s time she was more of a lady than a tomboy,’ said Danny. ‘And if you get a nanny, Georgina and Ben will be fine. Just start with two days a week and take it from there. See how it pans out. You’ve talked of nothing else since your visit to Skipton.
’ He looked across at Harriet. He knew that she secretly yearned to be back working again, despite her life as a mother and housewife at Crummock. She could also give Isabelle a run for her money – something he knew Harriet had been wanting to do since their disagreement all those years ago.
‘I’ll see – give me some time to think about it. I don’t want to be hurried into something I might regret.’ Harriet breathed in deeply and looked at Isabelle. ‘You’d get me a nanny and transport, and I could come and go as I please?’
‘Yes, I said so, and I’d be so grateful. It would be like old times, except that we are both much wiser.’ Isabelle smiled and knew that she’d got what she’d come for.
‘Aye, old times. Remember the bad as well as the good, and then hopefully neither of you will fall out again.’ Archie spat his mouthful of tobacco into the fire, making it hiss.
‘We’ll not fall out, we’ve both learned a lot since those days.’ Harriet smiled wistfully, remembering the better days with her sister-in-law. ‘I’ll come and help. Only a few days, mind, and we will see how it goes.’
‘Thank you, I just need somebody to be there for me. And I knew I could count on you.’ Isabelle rose from the table and hugged Harriet and then looked around her. ‘Crummock looks lovely. Mind, it always did at this time of year.’
‘Aye, you’ve got to learn to take the sunshine with the rain, otherwise you’ll not survive long up here, or in life. Get home to your man now, you’ve done your business; and make sure you look after him first. Happen then he won’t wander off again,’ said Archie.
‘Father, be quiet.’ Danny stood up and tried to stop his father from saying any more.
‘It’s alright, Danny. Father always says what he thinks, we both know that. And perhaps I don’t always put James first, but he doesn’t with me, either, so on that score I think we are even.’ Isabelle made her way to the doorway. ‘Harriet, I’ll let you meet all the nannies that I think are suitable, and Jethro will pick you up for the station in the mornings.’ Isabelle smiled as she made her way out into the late summer’s day. ‘I’m so grateful, believe me,’ she said as she made for her carriage.
