Every Mother's Son (9 page)

Beatrice knocked on his bedroom door and he called for her to come in. They both had a special knock to indicate who they were, but they never ever barged in; they’d respected each other’s privacy since childhood.

Beatrice stretched out on his bed and unfastened her long fair hair from its plait, arranging it across the counterpane. ‘I’ve been sorting out what to take with me,’ she said. ‘I hope I’m doing the right thing. Will I like school, do you think, Charles?’

‘I think you will.’ He turned from where he was kneeling looking through his school books. ‘You won’t be bored, at any rate, as you are now with just you and Miss
whatsername
.’

Beatrice went through governesses rapidly. None of them could understand her whims, or her desire to be somewhere other than sitting at a desk when the weather was pleasant.

‘Can’t be worse, can it?’ she murmured. ‘And I’ll have other girls to talk to and it’s only until the summer, and then I’ll be off to Switzerland to be
finished off
.’ She laughed at the thought of it. ‘It’s a pity I can’t go straight there, but the Academy insisted I had experience of general schooling rather than just a governess. I wish I’d thought of it before.’ She sighed.

‘I suppose they want to be sure you can mingle with other young ladies,’ Charles said vaguely, packing his books into a trunk. ‘Being only with a governess all these years you could be a timid little thing or an unsociable outcast.’

‘Which I am.’ She sighed again, and turned sideways so that her head hung over the side of the bed and her hair fanned out like a waterfall to the floor.

‘As it is,’ he said, glancing at her, ‘they’re going to wonder who on earth has arrived and turned them upside down.’

‘Do you think I’ll ever be considered beautiful?’ she asked, her face turning pink as the blood rushed to her head.

‘How would I know?’ he retorted. ‘I’m your brother. You’ll have to ask somebody else. Ask Daniel the next time you see him. He’d tell you.’

Beatrice hauled herself up again. ‘He wouldn’t know!’ she said scornfully. ‘He wouldn’t notice. No, really, if you were looking at me as if you’d just met me and I were not your sister, what would you think? I mean, would you think, erm, for instance, she’d be quite lovely if her nose were longer … or … shorter or, erm, if her eyes were larger or she were a little fatter – you know, that sort of thing.’

Charles rocked back on his heels. ‘Well, for one thing, I wouldn’t be attracted to you because you and I look quite alike, and I’d probably choose someone dark-haired and exotic, whereas you are the typical English woman with your fair skin that burns in the sun, just as mine does.’

He eyed her as she pouted crossly. ‘But I suppose you’re all right. Your hair’s nice, blonde and shiny. I don’t know! How am I supposed to know? I don’t know any other girls.’ He paused thoughtfully. ‘I suppose that’s why we were encouraged to have the party. Maybe our parents were sizing up the contestants for our eventual nuptials.’

Beatrice shot off the bed and crouched beside him. ‘You’re not serious?’ And as he nodded, she teased, ‘So that’s you married off to Anne Mason and I to the – what did Daniel call him? The toffee-nosed idiot Hanson.’ She folded her arms in front of her. ‘I think
not
!’

‘I’d gamble that it’s the start,’ Charles maintained. ‘We’ll be encouraged to go to parties and balls and suppers to meet the right people.’ He closed the trunk. ‘Do you think that Father and Mama had to do this? Do you think that when Father was young he was invited to meet young ladies to discover if he got along with them and if they were suitable for marriage? I can’t imagine it, can you?’

Beatrice considered. ‘Yes, I can. I can imagine Papa being quite a catch. I think that all the eligible young women in Yorkshire, and,’ she added darkly, ‘even those who were not, would have fallen in love with him; and he’s still quite handsome. You’ll look like him, Charles, when you’re old.’

He wasn’t sure if he was being flattered, but he commented, ‘Well, nevertheless, when I’ve finished school I’m not going straight to university as Father wants me to; I’m going on a tour of Europe with Daniel. He wants to find out about his background and I want to see life as it really is. We won’t take a Grand Tour with Mr Thomas Cook, we’ll make our own way; we’ll cross France and Switzerland and travel into Italy, where, I suspect, Daniel’s forebears are from. I shall plan a full itinerary nearer the time.’

Beatrice had been listening silently until then, but now she said, ‘Italy? You think that’s where his family is from? Because he’s so dark-haired, you mean?’

‘And his eyes,’ Charles emphasized. ‘Have you never noticed them? So dark, almost Arabian.’

‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘Of course I’ve noticed them. Will I still be in Switzerland when you come through, I wonder?’ Her eyes gazed dreamily into the distance as if she were looking into the future. ‘I think … no, I’m sure, that I most certainly will be.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Daniel always eagerly awaited the return of Charles during school holidays, but one Easter, instead of coming home, Charles sent a postcard from the Lake District to tell him that the whole family was staying in a lodge near Lake Windermere and would be walking the fells and sailing, but he looked forward to seeing Daniel again in the summer.

‘Lucky beggar,’ Daniel said, after reading the card to his mother and sisters. ‘Look at those mountains.’ He showed them the sepia photograph. ‘How high they are! Have you ever seen such high mountains, Ma?’

‘Me!’ Harriet laughed. ‘No. Nor likely to. Top of this dale is as high as I’ll ever get.’ She looked closely at the picture. ‘You’d have to have strong legs to get up those hills.’

‘Maybe they’ll ride mountain ponies.’ Maria looked over Daniel’s shoulder. ‘Did you say that ’whole family have gone?’

Daniel glanced at her. ‘Yes, all of them.’ He gave her a smile; he knew who she was really asking about.

Maria nodded, and then Dolly said, ‘They must be really, really rich for all of them to go off on holiday, especially to somewhere so far away.’

Harriet cast her eyes over her daughters. Seeing Maria’s downcast face and Dolly’s envious one, she hoped that neither of them would develop expectations beyond those that could be realized.

‘Let me tell you what being rich means,’ she said, drawing Maria close and reaching for Dolly’s hand. ‘Being rich is having someone to care for you; being rich means not having to worry about paying ’rent or wonder where ’next meal is coming from. We are lucky. We have our own land, our own house; we owe nothing to anybody. We are rich. It’s hard work for your father and Tom, and Daniel and Lenny too – for all of us,’ she added, smiling at Elizabeth and Joseph. ‘We all have to pull our weight, but we’re doing it for
us
, so that we can have a comfortable living. And most of all we’re lucky to have each other.’

‘Do you think, then, Ma,’ Dolly said, ‘that if we work really hard, one day we might have a big house like the Harts and be able to go away on holidays?’

Harriet gave a small sigh. ‘Is that what you want, Dolly? To have servants to look after you, to only mix with people who have ’same kind of house as you do?’

‘I’d still keep my friends,’ she said. ‘I’d invite them to come to my parties.’

‘I don’t think they’d come,’ Harriet said softly. ‘I think they might be envious of you.’

‘I’m not envious of Charles or Beatrice,’ Daniel said. ‘Charles is still my best friend, and so is Beatrice.’ As he spoke her name he realized that he had missed her chatter and exuberance since she went away to Harrogate.

‘There’s always an exception, Daniel,’ his mother pointed out, ‘and you and Charles are lucky to enjoy and keep your friendship, even though your lives are so different.’

‘But what about you and Mrs Hart?’ Maria asked. ‘You’re friends, aren’t you?’

Harriet paused before answering. It was true she and Melissa Hart had a special relationship, but friends? No, she thought, we just have some things in common. ‘We are friendly,’ she agreed in compromise. ‘And I know we could share a confidence. But no, we aren’t friends in ’proper meaning of the word.’

‘Well, I think it’s silly,’ Dolly pouted. ‘We’re all ’same, aren’t we? Does it matter who’s got ’most money?’

‘No,’ her mother said. ‘It doesn’t, except to the person who hasn’t got any. And it’s not just about money, Dolly. It’s a different kind of life, and you’re either born into it or you’re not.’

Dale Top Farm continued to make a reasonable living for them all. The winters had been bitterly cold and ice was seen in the river near Goole, but the spring Maria turned fifteen Harriet suggested that she should try for service in one of the larger houses in Brough. She was a hard-working girl with many skills in the home, and she helped Harriet with the milking and the egg production, but her mother thought that her personality might flourish if she was in the company of more people. Maria didn’t want to go and cried at her mother’s proposal, but she saw the sense of it.

‘I can come home if I’m unhappy, can’t I?’ she asked, drying her eyes.

‘Of course you can, but try it for six months,’ Harriet implored. ‘You need to know what it’s like to be out in ’world, instead of up here with no one to talk to but us. On your days off you’ll meet other young maids, and lads too I shouldn’t wonder, which will be a good thing as long as you’re careful and mind what your employer says.’

Harriet had another reason for wanting Maria to move away. When Stephen Hart was last home from school he had ridden over to talk to Fletcher, ostensibly to discuss farming, but he also spent time talking to Maria, and Harriet worried when she saw how dewy-eyed Maria became.

Dolly, on the other hand, said that she would like to work away from home; Harriet knew very well that she wanted her freedom, but Dolly was giddy and still had to learn some sense, and her mother considered that she was not yet mature enough to leave her care. Harriet had seen plenty of children and young girls and boys working long hours in mills and factories, as she herself had done as a child in Hull. It wasn’t right, she had said to Fletcher, as she pondered on the plight of young mothers who had to work to feed their families, and so put their babies and young children into the dubious care of unscrupulous childminders.

I am so lucky, she thought for the hundredth and more times. How very lucky I am.

In the summer Charles sought out Daniel. ‘I haven’t spoken to my father about going abroad,’ he admitted. ‘But I’ve dropped a few hints about some of the chaps doing the Grand Tour before they go on to university. A party of them are setting off for Switzerland this summer with one of the tutors; they’re visiting Geneva, Lucerne and some of the other alpine districts. It’s very well organized, but I think you and I should start out next spring and just go where our feet tell us. What do you think, Daniel? I’ll be nineteen by then and I’m really excited about the idea of travelling. I’ve done well with my French lessons, although my Italian is a bit scratchy. I can’t seem to roll my r’s,’ he laughed.

Daniel was anxious. He hadn’t mentioned the proposed excursion to his parents either, at least not since some time back when he’d gone out on another trip with Tom and hadn’t been sick, not even when they went out of the Humber mouth and into the German Ocean and along the coast as far as Bridlington.

Since then they had been too busy for him to even think about it; they’d bought more sheep and cattle, and at market had sold bullocks and heifers for between six and ten pounds, lambs at a good price and half-bred ewes for between thirty-eight and forty-six shillings, which made up for the hay crops which hadn’t done so well as the summers had been wet. In addition, they had bought a small plot of land from a neighbouring farmer who was retiring, to use eventually for pig breeding.

Lenny had said he’d like to leave school and specialize in pigs and build up a herd. Harriet had raised objections, but Fletcher had said mildly, ‘He can read and write and add up, and if pig farming is what he wants to do, what’s ’point in him staying on at school? He’s keener on farming than Daniel is – Daniel’s love is his hosses. Has he mentioned anything more about travelling to find his grandfather?’

‘No.’ Harriet smiled. ‘I’m sure it was just a childish whim. It was Rosie who put that idea in his head. I think he’s got over it.’

Fletcher wasn’t so sure and reminded her that Daniel had been out again in Tom’s boat. ‘Tom said he’s got over his seasickness and is still talking of going abroad.’

‘That was ages ago,’ Harriet maintained, hoping that Daniel was content on the farm; she couldn’t bear to think that he might leave and never come back.

Fletcher gently patted her cheek. ‘Mother hen,’ he smiled. ‘Your chicks will fly eventually, you know.’

‘Yes,’ she murmured, catching his hand and squeezing his fingers. ‘I know. But not yet, and I hope ’girls will stay close to home when they marry, and then we’ll have grandchildren!’

‘Not yet,’ Fletcher begged, ‘please!’

‘No, of course not yet,’ she teased. ‘But they’re all growing up so fast it’s frightening.’

As she gazed at him so close to her, at his soft grey-blue eyes and full warm mouth smiling back at her, she thought that they were not yet too old to have more children, who would fill the gap if their older children did leave home. She wistfully remembered the baby she had lost a few days after Joseph’s mishap with the horses – there had been no more since.

*

Tom stretched his back at the end of a busy harvesting day; they had turned the horses into the fold yard to drink and tomorrow at six would start another field. He and Daniel had been mending a broken spoke on a cartwheel whilst Fletcher and Lenny went back to the house. He looked up. ‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Who’s this come visiting?’

Daniel followed his gaze. Two women on horseback were on the road above them, looking down. ‘Don’t know,’ he muttered, slightly uncertain; there was something familiar about one of them. ‘Just riding by. Or is it …’ Yes, he thought, it could be – but mebbe not. Then she waved, and he waved back. ‘It’s Beatrice!’

‘Miss Hart, you mean,’ Tom murmured as he watched the two young ladies turn their mounts down on to the stubby grass and come towards them.