Lonely Girl (4 page)

‘You mean you actually meant to run away?’ John asked. ‘Why didn’t you come to me? Maybe by offering to pack your bag, your mother was trying you, thinking that if she pretended to go along with your threat you might give up the idea.’

‘No, Daddy. You weren’t there. She really wanted me to leave.’ Rosie was adamant. ‘She chased me upstairs and started packing my clothes into a bag, and she was angry … saying bad things. She told me that when she was just fifteen she was made to fend for herself and that it never did her any harm. She said it was time I learned to take care of myself, because I would be fifteen soon and old enough to fly the nest.’

‘I see.’ John was angry that his wife had spoken to Rosie in such a way. ‘She never mentioned it to me,’ he remarked quietly, ‘and she was wrong to say such a thing. I know she left home early herself – and from what your auntie Kathleen has told me, it seems your mother was a difficult child – but after leaving home she did largely what she wanted, and never looked back. She had various factory jobs and bar work and always had just enough money to keep her in style. Yes, she’s always had tremendous style.’

Rosie was impressed despite herself. ‘I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t think, even though I said I’d go, that I’m really ready to be sent packing, and besides, I would miss you too much … and the farm … and I expect I would even miss Mother.’

‘I’m sure you would,’ John smiled. ‘Yes, she’s a difficult woman, but we’re all made different, and we have to live with what we’ve got. And you are nothing like your mother. You’re strong, too, but in a different, calmer way.’

He was keen to reassure her. ‘You’ve no need to worry about what your mother said to you because I promise you, hand on heart, you will never be “sent packing”. This is your home for as long as you need it. It will be for you to decide when the time does eventually come for you want to fly the nest.’

‘Don’t you think I’m brave enough to go out in the big wide world?’

‘I’m not saying that, sweetheart.’ John found it difficult to choose the right words. ‘You are so different from your mother. You’re a strong, deep-thinking girl, with a heart full of love and compassion. So many times I’ve seen how you put other people’s feelings before your own. Look at that time last spring when we had weeks of rain. Everything was flooded, including the big pond in the valley. When one of our new lambs escaped from the barn and slipped down the bank into the pond, you waded in after it without any thought for your own safety.’ He smiled. ‘You gave me one hell of a fright. In the end I had to save the pair of you.’

Rosie had not forgotten. ‘I’m sorry I scared you,’ she said, ‘but the lamb was so frightened.’

‘Ah, but not my Rosie, eh? Though running into the water was a foolhardy thing to do. I’m only thankful that I was there to retrieve you.’

He lowered his voice and spoke in a gentler tone. ‘You do see what I’m trying to get at, don’t you, Rosie? I could never imagine your mother going in after that lamb, but that does not make her a coward. It makes her cautious and protective of herself. But you care deeply about everything and everyone … even your mother. You’re quieter and more thoughtful than she is. You’re just altogether different. While she sees this farm and the land as a kind of prison, you’ve always loved it … much like I do. As you know, this farm was handed down to me from my father.’ He smiled warmly. ‘It gives me such joy to know that you share my passion for this place.’

He had long been saddened by his wife’s dislike of the farm and the surrounding countryside. ‘Your mother has never really settled here. She’s forever saying she wants us to move, bag and baggage, into the town centre, though she knows I could never agree to it. Maybe that makes me selfish – I don’t know. But you see what I’m saying, don’t you? The two of you are unalike in so many ways.’

Rosie spoke her mind. ‘I don’t want to be like Mother.’

John understood, although what lay behind her comment saddened him. ‘Do you know what would make me happy, Rosie? I would feel so much better if you could just try not to be too hard on your mother. She can’t help the way she is. I know she’s got many failings but don’t we all have failings of some sort or another? None of us is perfect, Rosie. Let’s take a look at the good things she’s done, shall we? First of all, she allowed me the greatest gift I could ever have … and that is you, Rosie. She raised you, and here you are, a lovely, kind and gentle girl on the edge of womanhood. You’ve turned out to be a fine human being, so somewhere along the way your mother must have done something right. I’ll admit you have good reason at times to think she doesn’t love you, but I’m sure she does … in her own peculiar way.’

Hoping he was getting through to Rosie, he went on, ‘Having said that, I have to agree that just lately she’s been on a really short fuse, but over the sixteen years since I married her I have seen glimpses of tenderness in her. Not often, I’ll admit, but somewhere under her hard shell there must be a softness in her character.’

Rosie instinctively glanced through the window. ‘Well, if there is, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.’

‘Maybe you didn’t want to … not really.’

While Rosie thought about his comment, he went on, ‘Auntie Kathleen told me that your mother left home after a furious row with her parents, apparently over some small issue that was never resolved, even though Molly dearly loved her mother. It would seem that she’s always been strong-minded, but I like to think she doesn’t mean half of what she says … that maybe her sharp tongue is just the nature of her.’

‘You really do love her, don’t you, Daddy?’ Rosie asked softly.

‘Yes, Rosie …’ he gave a deep sigh, ‘… I think I must.’

Rosie felt guilty now. ‘I really don’t hate her, Daddy.’

‘I know you don’t, sweetheart.’

‘Is it my fault that she hasn’t come home yet?’

‘Of course not. She’s probably met up with a friend.’

‘I don’t think she has many friends.’

‘Well, there you go, Rosie. Just because we haven’t seen them doesn’t mean they don’t exist. But you’re right. I know she’s not one for making friends easily.’ He confided, ‘According to her, the two girls who used to work with her at the pub were – in your mother’s own words – too young and silly for their own good. Also, as I’m sure you probably heard, she’s already had a set-to with the new barmaid who works alongside her. On top of that, for whatever reason, she hasn’t spoken to your auntie Kathleen for ages, and why she seems to have taken against Harry, I have no idea. He’s a decent young man. If I searched for a month o’ Sundays, I might never find such a fine, hard-working young man.’

Rosie had also been thinking about that. ‘Maybe the reason Mother doesn’t like him is because Auntie Kathleen is not his real mother, so he’s not part of the family.’

‘Well, yes, that may well be so, though, as far as I’m concerned, Harry is now and he always will be part of this family. As you may recall, Harry’s mother died after a long illness, and some months after that, his father, Paddy, met your auntie Kathleen. According to Kathleen, both Paddy and his son were two lost souls. Harry was a bit too young to understand exactly what was happening, but like Paddy, he was very unhappy.’

‘I know what happened,’ Rosie remarked thoughtfully, ‘and I’m really glad that Auntie Kathleen and Uncle Patrick found each other.’

‘So am I, Rosie. Sometimes good things happen, and they help us forget the bad times. Kathleen never had children of her own and she took young Harry to her heart as though he was her own. In her quiet, kindly way, she got the little boy and his father through the bad times, and the three of them are now a strong family. I had hoped your mother would accept that, but if she hasn’t accepted Harry by now I don’t believe she ever will, more’s the pity.’

‘I don’t suppose Harry cares much for her either,’ Rosie remarked angrily.

John understood. ‘There’s always hope. Maybe, after all, she’ll see him for what he is: a fine young man who works hard and takes a pride in his many responsibilities. He’s a foreman in the making. The truth is, I honestly don’t know how I would manage without him.’

The thought of Harry not being around on the farm made Rosie sad. ‘Harry told me that Farmer Bennett offered to take him on if he ever left you. But Harry told him he would never leave, that he was happy here learning how to be a good farmer.’

John smiled knowingly. ‘I’m well aware that Harry could get a prime position at any one of the farms hereabouts. I also know he’s been approached and has turned down other farmers, and I truly appreciate his loyalty.’

‘Well, if you want him to stay tell Mother to stop yelling at him and blaming him for anything that goes wrong. Yesterday she threatened to sack him. I was in the kitchen and I heard her screaming and shouting because he brought the horses in from the fields.’

‘I’m afraid that was my fault,’ John said. ‘I forgot to tell Harry that the blacksmith had to rebook as he’d been called out to an emergency. Unfortunately, it was still down on Harry’s work schedule to bring in the horses for shoeing. I explained to your mother that the employees must remain my responsibility, and if ever there might be a reason to reprimand anyone, I would deal with it. The matter is now done and dusted.’

‘I bet Mother didn’t take any notice.’

‘Oh, I think she did. I made it very clear …’ He now recalled Molly’s response to his words of caution. ‘In fact, to be fair – although she did not actually say it – I got the distinct feeling your mother was sorry for blaming Harry after I explained that it was not his fault.’

He stood and moved to the window, peering into the darkness. ‘What’s keeping her? Where the devil is she?’ He glanced at Rosie’s bedside clock. It was gone eleven o’clock. ‘Your mother is usually home by now. I’d best go and meet her. I know she won’t thank me for it, but it’s pitch-black out there, and you never know who might be hanging about in the shadows. If that clock is right, the Magpie will have closed its doors an hour or so back,’ he added under his breath.

He kissed Rosie on top of her head. ‘I’m going to find her, Rosie, and I need you to stay upstairs with Barney. I’ll secure the house and lock the doors on the way out. You know where the spare key is, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Daddy.’

‘Good.’ He gave Rosie a stern look. ‘Whatever you hear, or whoever might knock on the door, do not go outside. I’ll be as quick as I can. Close the curtains and keep them closed … and make sure you stay well away from the windows.’

He hurried across the room, then stopped at the door. ‘Remember what I said, Rosie. Do not open the door or answer to anyone who might call, no matter who it might be. D’you understand?’

‘Yes, Daddy. But can’t I come with you?’ she asked, following him to the door.

‘No, sweetheart. I don’t want you out there in the dark, and anyway I might need to go into the Magpie, and a pub is no place for a young girl.’ He gave her a quick hug. ‘Don’t you worry. I’ll be back in no time. Here, Barney. Good boy.’ He called the Labrador to him and ruffled the big dog’s collar. ‘I want you to look after our lovely girl. Don’t you leave her … not even for a minute.’

He gave Barney a little push and the dog went straight into Rosie’s arms. Holding him tight, she laughed out loud when he began washing her face with his long pink tongue.

‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ John promised, ‘and with luck I’ll have your mother in tow. Now remember, before I come into the house I’ll call up to you. When you hear my voice, take a little peep through the window to make absolutely sure it’s me. D’you understand?’

Feeling safe and loved, Rosie assured him that she did.

‘Right then, sweetheart … I’m glad we managed to clear the air and I’m glad we’ve been honest with each other. We should have had this little chat long ago, but we’ll do it again, I promise. Now I’d best be off.’

For the next few minutes, Rosie heard her father going from room to room, securing her inside the house. Then she heard him close the front door and she waited for the click of the key in the lock. When she heard that she ran back to the window and gingerly turned up a corner of the curtain in order to catch a glimpse of him.

For a moment or so she could not pick out his tall, strong figure; then he passed under the big automatic security lights attached to the largest building in the yard.

Last winter, after a spate of thefts from farms in the area, Rosie’s father had made this barn strong and secure enough to house his valuable farming equipment.

Rosie watched him, thinking he cut a fine figure in his long dark coat, his black-and-white checked cap pulled down to his brow. ‘Love you, Daddy,’ she whispered. She thought about her mother, out there doing whatever it was she did and not caring who might be at home worrying about her.

Within moments her father was gone, having quickly dodged through the space between two farm buildings to cut across the fields. Rosie often used that same short cut into town, but never in the dark. The very idea made her shiver with fright.

Now, with the dog nudging her, she carefully lowered the curtain and turned to fuss him. ‘Well, Barney, Daddy says we have to stay here and not open the door to anyone.’ She giggled. ‘Though I reckon if anyone tried to get in here, you’d have them for breakfast, wouldn’t you, eh?’

Looking up with soulful eyes, the dog stretched out on the carpet to await his master’s return, although Rosie knew he would leap up should he be needed.