Candles in the Storm (40 page)

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Authors: Rita Bradshaw

Tags: #Romance, #Sagas, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Candles in the Storm
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A couple of sniffs followed, then, ‘Gran said she was gonna baste me backside the day.’
 
Oh, dear, what had he done now. ‘Did she? Well, you must have upset her in some way for her to say that because you know she loves you all the world.’
 
‘I only said Eliza was a skyet-gob.’
 
He had called Tilly’s youngest fish-face? Daisy kept the amusement out of her voice with some effort. ‘Why did you call her that? She’s a nice little bairn, isn’t she?’
 
He shrugged. ‘She said you love her as much as me, but you don’t, do you? You don’t love her like me?’
 
All amusement gone, Daisy closed her eyes for a moment. She had lit the oil lamp before she had climbed the ladder and brought it up with her. Now she opened her eyes, staring into the flickering shadows as Tommy spoke again, his voice thick with tears once more. ‘She said Aunt Tilly’s her mam but she’s only my aunty, an’ that an aunty is different from a mam. She said aunties don’t love as much as mams an’ that you’re our aunty an’ you love us all the same.’
 
Daisy forgot all about diplomacy. She tightened her hold on his small body, her voice fierce as she said, ‘This aunty loves just as much as a mam, hinny, for you anyway.’
 
‘But not for Eliza?’
 
‘No, not for Eliza, just you.’ She’d probably get it from her grandmother and Tilly over this if Tommy repeated it, but the child needed reassurance and that came first. Eliza had her mother with her twenty-four hours a day, who did her lad have? ‘To me, hinny, you
are
my bairn. All right?’
 
The small head with its silky curls nodded, and Daisy had to restrain herself from crushing Tommy to her. The poor little bairn. He might be a bit of a handful at times but he was so tender under all his bravado. She just thanked God that Margery’s parents had never expressed any interest in their grandson. The last she’d heard of Hilda and Jacob Travis they had upped and moved Newcastle way, and nothing would convince her otherwise but that this move stemmed from the arrival of the child she held against her heart.
 
One day when Tommy was older and ready to understand, when he was approaching manhood, she would show him his birth certificate. But she would take care to explain fully how things had been. That his parents had loved each other, that they had made a mistake certainly but they had loved each other and fully intended to marry. She would tell him that he would have been the most precious gift of all to them, as he was to her, and he must never doubt that for a second the rest of his life. Whatever anyone else might say.
 
Daisy’s lips compressed. People could be cruel, and the stigma of the word ‘bastard’ was one which broke some folk before they had even had a stab at life. But it wouldn’t be like that for Tommy, not while she had breath in her body.
 
She didn’t leave the cottage until he was fast asleep, and so it was half-an-hour later before she made her way along the path towards the Hardys’ place. She had almost reached the door when a figure emerged from the shadows, making her jump.
 
‘Sorry, lass.’ Alf’s voice was wry. ‘I seem to have been doing that all me life, waiting for you and then frightening you half to death.’
 
‘It’s all right.’ Daisy was reassured by his dry amusement but her voice expressed a hint of wariness when she said, ‘Why
are
you waiting for me, Alf?’
 
He stared into her face, holding her eyes, his own expression changing the while from one of self-mockery to seriousness before he said, ‘I need to say goodbye, lass. We never did, did we?’
 
‘Alf--’
 
‘It’s all right, Daisy, really.’ His voice dropped to a low whisper. ‘I love Kitty, more than I thought I could ever love anyone who wasn’t you, an’ she suits me. She suits me more than you would ever have done an’ I see that now. But . . . I need to say goodbye to what might have been, if you’d felt different, an’ to ask you if you’ll still be me friend? If . . . if you’ve forgiven me for the things I said that day?’
 
‘Oh, Alf.’ She made a movement with her hand, touched by the naked emotion he was trying to conceal. ‘You’ll always be my friend, you and Kitty, my best friends. And you were right, in a way at least. I have to get on with my life, I can’t cry for the moon or hope for what will never be.’
 
‘He’s gettin’ better, the young master? So your granny said?’
 
She nodded.
 
Alf’s face was solemn now as he said, ‘He’s got to be the biggest fool in the world, lass, for all his fine education.’
 
This unswerving support - something Alf had given her all her life when she thought about it - was almost too much for Daisy, tormented as she was by worry for William and sorrow at the way he had left. Her voice soft, she said, ‘Thank you, Alf, and I needn’t tell you to be happy with Kitty because I know you will be.’
 
‘Aye, I do an’ all. She needs me you see, lass. At heart she’s like a dove with one wing down.’
 
Both his understanding and the simile itself amazed Daisy for the insight they displayed. She nodded at him, saying, ‘Yes, that’s just it, Alf. And she loves you too. She always has. Don’t ever wonder about that.’
 
They stared at each other for a moment more before Alf rubbed his hand across his face. ‘So, lass? Friends still?’
 
‘Always, Alf.’
 
‘That’s all I wanted to hear.’ He looked at her for a second longer, then turned and went towards the cottage. ‘We’d better see about gettin’ your granny home, an’ Tilly’s bairns an’ all. Her an’ Cuthbert can sit by the fire if he’s a mind to go back with her, but I’m goin’ to get George or one of the others to walk you back into Fulwell.’
 
‘There’s no need for that,’ said Daisy quickly. ‘It doesn’t take long and I’d know my way blindfold now. There’s more than enough light to see the path, it being such a clear night.’
 
‘Stubborn to the last.’ As he opened the door and a surge of voices and warmth spilled out, Alf grinned at her. ‘But humour me the night, lass, eh? It’s been a right grand day an’ I don’t want nowt to spoil it, like you turnin’ your ankle in one of them potholes an’ lyin’ out all night without anyone knowin’. You won’t have Kitty with you from now on, don’t forget.’
 
No, she wouldn’t. As Alf continued into the cottage, Daisy paused on the threshold. This was going to be yet another new chapter in her life and one she wasn’t particularly looking forward to. Wilhelmina had decided that rather than replace Kitty with another live-in servant she would make do with a daily from the village, who would arrive at six every morning and leave at six in the evening. Daisy had met the young girl concerned who had seemed nice enough but who was not particularly bright, and Maud Longhurst had certainly none of bubbly Kitty’s sense of fun. Maud was due to commence her new position in two days’ time, and Gladys was already spitting bricks after being informed by Wilhelmina that the cook would be expected to serve and clear dinner unaided in the new way of things. Not that Gladys was talking to her, Daisy reminded herself ruefully. From the morning of Kitty’s departure from Evenley House, Gladys and Harold had maintained an attitude of stony silence that was broken only when absolutely necessary.
 
But that didn’t matter. Daisy’s gaze travelled to where Kitty, bright-eyed and flushed with happiness, was laughing with some of the other fisherwomen, her brown curls bobbing and the lace stole draped about her shoulders in a cascade of white. Kitty was free of her mother now, Gladys’s hold over her daughter broken, and Daisy would have endured much more than the woman’s seething hostility and working with stolid Maud for that to come about.
 
As though her thoughts had drawn the other girl, Kitty now left the group of women and made her way over to Daisy, saying, ‘Come right in then, lass, you’re allowed. Most honoured guest, you are,’ and she wasn’t altogether joking.
 
‘I’ve got to get back, Kitty. Alf’s just going to bring Gran and round up Tilly and the bairns, and once they’re home I’m off to Fulwell.’
 
‘Aw, lass.’ The smile sliding from her face, Kitty said softly, ‘I hate to think of you there with me mam, I do straight.’
 
For answer, Daisy put her arms round Kitty and hugged her, whispering, ‘She doesn’t bother me, she never has, and that’s what gets to her. You just be happy, there’s no one deserves to be more than you.’
 
Kitty now disengaged herself enough to pull back and look into Daisy’s face, and there were tears in her eyes when she said, ‘There aren’t words to thank you.’
 
‘Thank me? I haven’t done anything.’
 
Kitty shook her head, sending the high bun of curls wobbling again. ‘Lass, you’ll never know. You’ll never know. You turned my life round when you came to Evenley House, that’s the way I feel about it, and all the good things in my life now have come through you.’
 
‘Oh, Kitty.’
 
‘I’ll miss you, lass.’
 
‘And me you, Kitty. And me you.’
 
They were brought apart by Alf’s voice behind Kitty saying, ‘Out of me way, wife, there’s folks comin’ through,’ and then he was stepping out of the cottage, Nellie held in his burly arms, and Tilly, Cuthbert and their menagerie of bairns behind him.
 
After one last quick squeeze of Kitty’s hand, Daisy made her goodbyes to Alf’s mother and the others and then followed the procession. She had always been aware that most of the fisherfolk had expected her to return to the cottages one day and marry Alf, but even if she hadn’t been the attitude of some of them today would have told her this. Not that anyone had spoken a word out of place, it wasn’t that, nor had anyone been unkind, but they had been cautious. It was as though Alf’s wedding had emphasised she was now different from them, lived in a different world; by refusing him she had indicated that the old Daisy was finally gone. It made her feel sad and almost cast adrift but she couldn’t do anything about it, and for the moment didn’t feel up to examining herself and the whole situation any further, so she resolved to put it all on the back burner and just get on with what needed to be done.
 
She straightened her shoulders, set her fancy new bonnet with blue silk flowers on the brim that she’d bought specially for Kitty’s wedding more firmly on her head, and went to meet the waiting George.
 
Chapter Twenty-one
 
Wilhelmina was resting on a couch pulled close to the roaring fire in her private sitting room, a thick travelling rug covering her lower torso and legs, but still she felt cold.
 
She glanced across to the windows beyond which more snow was swirling in a world already transformed to brilliant white. It had been snowing for the last three days. Every morning Harold cleared the path leading from the front door to the garden gate but he reported that the road beyond Evenley House was still in use so they were not cut off yet.
 
Would Augustus visit today, and would he bring Francis with him again? Wilhelmina frowned to herself. Why on earth Augustus had allowed their younger brother to return home with him and the girls she really didn’t understand. Of course she realised Augustus was upset by Gwendoline’s assertion that their marriage was over, and that she intended to stay in France indefinitely with Lydia and Claude; perhaps he found Francis’s presence a comfort? For herself, she would as soon harbour an asp in her bosom than trust Francis.
 
Wilhelmina looked towards the door as quick light footsteps sounded in the hall outside, obviously Daisy’s rather than the solid plodding of Maud.
 
‘I’ve brought your luncheon tray, ma’am.’ Daisy knew her mistress was finding Maud something of a trial; the girl was willing enough but painfully slow. She had to be told something at least three or four times before it penetrated her brain, and even then the pace at which she carried out the allotted task was snail-like.
 
‘Thank you, child.’ Wilhelmina glanced at the contents of the silver tray - a light meal consisting of beef consommé with a soft white roll - aware she wouldn’t be able to manage more than a bite or two.
 
Later that afternoon Daisy had just finished massaging her mistress’s feet when Maud ponderously announced that Sir Augustus and Mr Francis Fraser had called to see their sister. With Josiah Kirby ensconced in the kitchen with a venomous Gladys, and Francis Fraser staring at her in the sitting room, the afternoon proved to be a long and trying one for Daisy.
 
The moon was casting its cold white brilliance over the frozen vista outside the warmth of Wilhelmina’s private sitting room by the time the two brothers and Josiah left. Wilhelmina had asked Daisy to see her brothers out - it being twenty-past six and Maud having left promptly at her allotted time - and out of the corner of her eye Daisy saw Francis glance meaningfully at the valet as Josiah joined him on the drive, Augustus already having seated himself in the carriage which had arrived a minute or two earlier. Josiah nodded at the unspoken prompting, at which point both men turned as one and looked at her.

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