by Rosie James
Abigail broke the silence. ‘My aunt made a real effort to look the part for the funeral … she was a perfect vision dressed in black!’
‘Good for her,’ Luke said. ‘Keeping up appearances, then.’
‘It was quite something for her to get scrubbed up like that,’ Abigail admitted, ‘so perhaps she harbours a secret wish to be someone else, after all.’ Abigail paused. ‘We all have secret wishes, don’t we, Luke?’
There was silence for a few moments, then he said, ‘By the way, all the formal papers came yesterday about my college course – and, unusually, it’s not going to start until November this year, which is rather late.’ He glanced across. ‘But until then at least I’ll be home here for us to see each other – if and when we get the chance,’ he added.
Abigail didn’t say anything for a moment. The thought of Luke – her Luke – moving right away was something she didn’t want to think about. No more occasional Thursdays to look forward to. No more anything to look forward to. ‘Will you be in London?’ she asked, and he nodded.
‘I think the course starts there, but they apparently send students all over the place to other colleges from time to time during the whole procedure,’ he said. ‘A sort of movable feast, by the sound of it, which I hope I’m going to enjoy but I probably won’t.’ He glanced down and saw that her eyes had filled with tears.
‘Come on,’ he said lightly. ‘Don’t be sad, because that last cake is yours.’ But Abigail shook her head.
‘No thanks – you have it, Luke,’ she said, cross with herself at feeling so terrible that he would be going away at the end of the year. After all, she’d always known that he would be furthering his education far, far away from this inauspicious village. But to be reminded that the time was fast approaching was painful. She stood up suddenly, picking up the empty plate and their glasses.
‘It’s such a perfect afternoon, Luke,’ she said, trying to sound upbeat. ‘I would love to look around the garden.’ She glanced out of the window at the vast rolling lawn. ‘We don’t go in for much decorative planting at Coopers. There is never any room for things which do not produce food to sell,’ she added ruefully.
They cleared up the tea things, then, hand in hand, they left the kitchen and began wandering along the grassy paths of the garden which seemed to go in every direction, Abigail stopping every now and then to inspect something which particularly took her fancy.
Out of sight of the house, they took a left turn and Luke said, ‘Behold – the rose walk! My mother’s particular interest.’
Abigail stared. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Numerous arches stood at regular intervals down the long path, all festooned with trailing foliage. Most of the flowers were still in tight bud but one or two were already opening their fragrant faces to the sunshine.
‘How absolutely beautiful,’ Abigail said, and Luke looked down.
‘I was thinking the same thing,’ he said, gazing at her.
Abigail blushed, and still holding hands they wandered past the rose trail and almost immediately came to the summer house Luke had mentioned the other day. Without saying another word, Luke reached into his pocket for his bunch of keys. Then he moved forward and opened the door.
‘Come on, it’s been all aired and freshened up for the summer,’ he said, ‘so we might as well have a sit down for a few minutes and admire the view from inside.’
Going in first, Luke immediately went over to the canvas garden chairs which were stacked neatly against one wall. Setting two of them up, he pushed one towards Abigail before sitting down on the one next to her.
Putting her head back and half-closing her eyes, Abigail said, ‘I may fall asleep in a minute – so I hope you won’t mind.’
‘You’re hardly likely to fall asleep sitting up like that,’ Luke said. ‘Oh, I know.’ Then he got up and went over to the other side of the room, bringing back a striped sun lounger which he opened up in front of her. ‘Here, try this for size,’ he said. ‘It’s actually quite comfortable.’
Abigail did as he suggested, then lay back outstretched, and sighed contentedly as she felt the gentle breeze from the open door begin to fan her face. ‘This is heavenly,’ she murmured, turning to look at him, ‘but I feel really mean having the only bed.’
Without any hesitation he got up. ‘Move over a bit, then,’ he said.
Then he stretched out beside her, and soon they were entwined in each other’s arms.
‘This seems the perfect moment for me to make something absolutely clear to you, Abigail Wilson,’ Luke said softly. ‘Because I promise you now, that when I am earning enough money to support you, I shall arrive at Coopers and snatch you away from your aunt for ever.’
Abigail turned to gaze into his eyes. If only that could be true. But the chances of Luke Jordan being able to escape the charms of other women were slight because he was simply irresistible. And he was going to be away, he’d said, for three or four years. What hope did she have when she wouldn’t even be there to compete with the attractive women he was bound to spend time with?
He raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at her. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’ he said, and she smiled up at him, her eyes moist.
‘I believe you, Luke,’ she said, though she was really thinking, I want to believe you, Luke.
Then his lips closed over hers, more urgently this time, and Abigail responded readily as his hands began to trace her soft curves beneath her clothes. And then, without any sense of shame, she helped him undress her. It sent her pulse racing and her heart soaring.
‘I love you, Abigail,’ he whispered, ‘and I will never love anyone else, ever. I give you my word.’
Cruelly, fate decreed that for the rest of that month Abigail could only get to the village once to see Luke. But it had been worth it because, without either of them putting it into words, their relationship had changed. Now, the sense that they really belonged to each other filled them with a warmth which was different from anything they’d felt before.
But it wasn’t until the middle of July that Abigail realised the plight she was in.
Getting out of bed, she drew back the curtains and stared out at the familiar scene. The scene that never changed. But something else had changed. Something had changed in her.
Standing back, she placed her hands lightly over her tummy, feeling for something, anything. How did you feel the tiny beginnings of a baby? Having seen the goats giving birth to their kids many times, and from everything she’d read in her books, Abigail had a good idea about reproduction, and she knew that it took nine months for a human baby to emerge into the world. But how did you look – and what did you feel – during those months?
Well, how was she to know? All she did know was that she’d missed last month and was late for this one – the first time ever. And the realisation filled Abigail with absolute terror. Because when her aunt was told, Abigail would be thrown out of Coopers and she’d have nowhere to live and nowhere to go.
And that was why she would have to tell Luke, soon. She would go tomorrow, Thursday, and break the news. He would find ways to look after her and their baby because he would never leave her to face this by herself, she knew he wouldn’t.
‘Can I help you?’ A man’s gruff voice from behind the hedge at Mulberry Court made Abigail look up, startled.
‘Oh no – thank you,’ she replied quickly. ‘I’m just waiting for someone – waiting for Luke Jordan. He should be home in a minute.’
Coming into full view, the man stared at her over the gate. ‘Well, you’re going to be disappointed, luvver,’ he said. ‘The Jordans don’t live here anymore.’
Abigail’s mouth dropped in surprise. ‘What … what do you mean?’ she said. ‘Where are they living now?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m only the gardener keeping the place tidy until the owners take up residence,’ he said, ‘but what I was told was that the Jordans had gone back to London and then someone said the lady and the young
lad have gone to France for a few months – where they’ve got a place in the south, so I believe.’ The man made a face. ‘A’wight for some, innit – but the lady hadn’t been too well, so I heard.’
Feeling as if the ground beneath her was going to melt away and suck her down and down, Abigail just stood for a moment trying to take in this terrible news.
‘Well, thank you,’ she said faintly, turning to go.
As she retraced her steps along the road and past the school, keeping well away from the market, Abigail tried desperately to let the news she’d just been given sink in. Luke had obviously left school a couple of weeks before the end of term to accompany his mother – so now he was further away from Abigail than he’d ever been. He was never to know that they were to have a baby … and they would never see each other again.
Stopping for a moment to regain her breath, Abigail paused in her thoughts. Her first impulse, her first instinct, had been to tell Luke – but now she wasn’t so sure. Would he mind that she was pregnant? Anyway, how could he be a proper father to their baby when he was away at college – and what on earth would his parents think when they found out? They would surely be angry at the situation and the last thing Abigail wanted was to do anything to harm Luke – to harm his chances of graduating and fulfilling the career which had been decided for him.
Abigail put her hand to her mouth, tormented by sudden guilt. Why hadn’t she stopped to think what this news would undoubtedly mean to Luke? She knew that he loved her – he’d said so over and over again – but he was in no position to provide a home for her … not yet! It wasn’t the right time for them. It was too soon!
Abigail straightened her shoulders defiantly, even though her heart was at breaking point. She was going to have this baby – she was going to love this baby – and conquer whatever troubles lay ahead.
And telling her aunt was going to be the first hurdle.
That thought made Abigail pause, holding her sides for a second. Well, hadn’t Luke told her that she was bright and clever and funny and that if she really wanted something, it was up to her? That if she was determined enough, she could change her life to however she wanted it to be?
Well, one day, Abigail would prove his words.
But she would never see the long letter he had addressed to her because it had slipped from the postal tray on the hall table and had become trapped, right out of sight, under a corner of the sturdy cabinet alongside.
Chapter 4
June 1939
‘Come on, Emily, it’s time to wake up,’ Abigail said softly. ‘The chickens want their breakfast, and there will be lots of eggs for you to collect.’
Emily sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning, and Abigail hugged her tightly, the endearing scent of her little girl’s warm body filling her with the usual enchantment.
It was six o’clock, and Abigail quickly got herself dressed, then helped Emily button up her liberty bodice and put on her frock. Presently they went downstairs where Edna was stirring the porridge. She barely looked up as they entered, merely nodding a greeting, and soon they were all sitting at the table to begin their breakfast.
Abigail was about to drop her bombshell. It was not going to be easy to break the news to her aunt, but it had to be today, Wednesday, because tomorrow was market day and Edna would have the best chance of acquiring extra help. And then it would be Friday – the very last one in which Abigail and her daughter would wake up at Coopers. And the first one of their new lives.
They ate in comparative silence until Edna said, without looking up, ‘The back field must be cleared this morning because all the vegetables are just right for market – you can pack them in those new boxes I managed to buy cheap last week.’
It was the peremptory tone, the familiar, terse instruction that gave Abigail the courage to speak out. She turned to look down at Emily who had finished the last of her porridge and was sitting quietly swinging her legs. Young as she was, she’d learned how to read the situation, whether it was better to keep quiet rather than chatter endlessly to her mother as she usually did.
Abigail smiled down at her. ‘You go and collect the eggs, now, darling,’ she said, ‘because I want to talk to Aunt Edna for a moment.’
‘Goody goody,’ Emily said, jumping down from her chair. She loved putting her hands into the warm straw to find the eggs. It was her favourite job.
‘And mind you don’t break any,’ Edna said to Emily’s departing back, ‘like you did last week.’
That was all that Abigail needed; she turned to look straight at her aunt.
‘I have something very important to say to you, Aunt,’ she said firmly, as Edna stood up to collect their three dishes.
‘Oh? Well, hurry up about it because there’s a lot to do this morning.’
Abigail didn’t beat about the bush. ‘You need to know that Emily and I are leaving Coopers on Friday,’ she said quietly, ‘and we won’t be coming back.’
That stopped Edna in her tracks, and she stared at Abigail. After a long silence, she said, ‘What ever are you talking about? And where on earth do you think you’re going?’
‘We are going to seek a new life, Aunt, where I can show my daughter that there is something other than this. Where we can be happy. Where she can grow up among other people and find out about things, do things. And where she will have friends … friends to play with.’
‘Oh, really?’ Edna said sarcastically. ‘And how are you going to achieve all that? You have no money, no experience of the outside world that you seem so anxious to be part of. You’ll never make anything of yourself out there because what have you got to offer? And your daughter will be nothing but a millstone around your neck, I can promise you that! And I should know – personal experience taught me a hard lesson!’
Abigail bit back the retort that was forming on her lips, but said patiently, ‘Emily and I will make our way together, come what may, Aunt. And I do have a little money – enough to see us through until I find myself work.’
Leaning forward with both fists on the table, Edna’s eyes narrowed. ‘Oh? And where did you get that money from?’
‘It was what Dada gave me on each of my birthdays,’ Abigail said calmly. ‘And he impressed on me that I should save it because I was sure to need it one day.’
For a moment, Edna said nothing. ‘And I suppose you’re going to seek your fortune in one of the towns along the way?’
‘No – I thought we might try our luck somewhere bigger … perhaps Bristol,’ Abigail said, ‘where there are more opportunities.’
‘Bristol? But what work do you intend looking for? What experience have you had other than what you’ve learned here?’
‘I don’t care what it turns out to be,’ Abigail said quickly, ‘but it will be one for which I shall be paid money. And you’re right, Aunt, I’ve learned many things which will be of use to someone who will pay me to do them.’ Abigail swallowed. ‘I have worked hard at Coopers, all my life, long days, long hours, and you have never given me a single penny to call my own.’
‘Ha!’ Edna said. ‘Well, I have given you a roof over your head and food in your belly and clothes on your back – and now the same for the child! That is surely payment enough, isn’t it?’
Abigail let a moment pass. ‘And I will always be grateful, Aunt, but you have trapped me like a bird in a cage. And every bird eventually wants freedom … even if it’s far worse outside. Birds have to fly, need to fly … I have to fly! And I’m going to make sure that Emily, too, will escape to spread her wings.’ Abigail pressed her lips together before going on. ‘My daughter is going to live her life without shame. Everyone is going to know that there are just the two of us, that there have always been just the two of us. And I am going to teach my little girl to hold her head up and face the world with courage.’
Edna stood back. ‘Well, I think you’re absolutely mad and you’re turning out just like your father!’ She folded her arms. ‘My brother was always a dreamer, and h
e only volunteered to serve in that war because he thought it would be more exciting than staying here, and what did it do for him? It killed him! Oh, he came home, eventually, but not the strong, healthy lad he’d always been. If he’d listened to me, he’d be here now, today, instead of lying up there in the churchyard, no use to anybody.’
Those bitter words hit Abigail like a hammer blow, and she stood up defiantly. ‘Whatever Dada did, he would have done it because he thought it was right,’ she said. ‘You can think of it differently, but Dada and I talked to each other, and he told me the things he believed in.’ Abigail choked back her tears. ‘He told me that by volunteering he’d thought he could help. That it had been his duty.’
‘Well then, let’s talk about duty!’ Edna spat out. ‘Your duty to me and the fact that you have always had a home here and enough of everything and—’
‘But it was also Dada’s home, wasn’t it,’ Abigail interrupted, ‘and he would have expected me to live here for as long as I needed to.’
Edna pursed her lips. She could see that Abigail had made up her mind. ‘And have you given any thought as to how I am going to manage here on my own?’ she said coldly.
‘Yes, I have, Aunt,’ Abigail said, ‘Tomorrow is market day, the perfect opportunity for you to find anyone looking for work, and there will be plenty of choice.’ That was true. Thursdays always drew people to the village in large numbers, selling or buying produce, or those seeking temporary or permanent employment in the fields or on the farms. ‘Of course, you will have to pay them,’ Abigail went on, ‘but perhaps you could employ two youngsters, instead of an adult. That would be cheaper because children will agree to work hard for very little.’ Abigail had often heard older boys in the playground talking of work they’d done at the weekends for which they were never paid more than a few pennies or a shilling.
Edna shook her head in silent disbelief. Then, slowly – ‘Have you any idea, any idea at all,’ she said, ‘as to what is going to face the pair of you? You are going to be homeless! And at a time when the country will soon be at war again! War, Abigail! Nothing is going to stop it now! Did you consider that when you decided to go and live in an industrial city?’