by Rosie James
Abigail shrugged briefly. How could she have considered something she was ignorant of? Very little news of any kind found its way to Coopers. ‘I am sure that Emily and I are going to be all right, Aunt,’ she said. ‘And whatever happens, we’ll find a way to look after ourselves.’
Just then, Emily trotted back in and went straight over to her mother. ‘I’ve put all the eggs into the little boxes and the chickens were very pleased to see me.’ She smiled up at Abigail. ‘Can we give them their breakfast now?’
‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do,’ Abigail said, ‘and then there are all those vegetables to be dug up, so there’s no time to waste.’ She looked across at Edna who remained stony-faced. ‘Just give me a list, Aunt, of anything more you need us to do, and of course, Emily and I will be here tomorrow as well, to do everything as usual. I wouldn’t want to leave too much for the new helper, or helpers to tackle. It will take them a little time to get used to everything.’ To get used to you, Abigail would like to have said.
Early on Friday morning Abigail woke with a start. She hadn’t slept well, her mind going over and over her plans, trying to reassure herself that the massive step she was taking was the right one for them. She’d nearly gone mad asking herself that question, but how did anyone know if a huge change in their life was taking place at the right time? Surely, in the end it had to be a matter of trusting your instincts?
Yet with every doubt that crept into her mind, Abigail could hear her father’s reassuring voice telling her to always have faith in herself. ‘In the end, we must all stand up for what we believe in,’ he’d said gently, ‘With determination – and a little bit of luck thrown in – you can change things in your life if you really want to. Remember that, Abigail.’
Thinking about those words now, Abigail realised that it must surely have been his wish that one day she should strike out on her own. And that thought made her heart soar with optimism. She knew she had the determination.
All she and her tiny daughter needed was the little bit of luck …
At that moment, Emily sat up, immediately wide awake. ‘We’re going on a big puffer train today, Mummy, aren’t we?’ she said eagerly. ‘And we’re taking dolly with us, aren’t we?’
‘Of course we are!’ Abigail exclaimed. ‘I’ve packed all our clothes, and there are bags to carry. They’re not very heavy.’
And how could the bags be heavy when they had so few possessions? They had just two basic sets of clothes each – most of which Abigail had made herself with various pieces of material or wool which Edna would only bring back from the market when Abigail had insisted that either she, or Emily, really had to have another cardigan or skirt, or to replace some underwear that wouldn’t survive another wash. As for shoes, Emily had always worn little canvas daps easily available at the market stall, while Abigail, after her school shoes had finally become too small, wore the same steel-tipped clogs as Edna and many others who worked on the land did. Reasonably comfortable, clogs were strong and reliable and never wore out.
Emily clambered out of bed and started getting herself dressed. She’d already reached the point when she refused to have any help. ‘Is Aunt coming with us, Mummy?’
‘No – no, of course not,’ Abigail said. ‘This is just our adventure – yours and mine. I told you that yesterday, didn’t I?’ She pulled back the curtains. ‘Look, it’s another lovely day, and after breakfast we’re going on quite a long walk across the fields.’
‘But I can collect the eggs first, can’t I?’ Emily said, sitting down on the floor to pull on her daps. ‘There’ll be time for me to do that, won’t there?’
Abigail smiled quickly. ‘Yes, and after we’ve had our wash in the scullery, I shall tidy up the kitchen, and milk the goats,’ she said. ‘One last time.’
Downstairs Edna was nowhere to be seen, but, as usual, the porridge in the large saucepan on the range was ready to eat, and Abigail went over to fill their two bowls. ‘Perhaps we should have a second helping today, Emily,’ she said, ‘so that we won’t feel hungry on our journey.’
‘Can I have some honey on mine?’ Emily whispered, darting a glance at the door in case Aunt suddenly appeared. Edna didn’t see the need for sweet stuff and rarely bought any sugar, insisting that the honey from their own bees was sufficient. ‘I don’t really like porridge without honey,’ Emily said.
‘No, and neither do I,’ Abigail agreed, reaching into the cupboard for a jar. And just then Edna came in from outside and looked down at them.
‘So, you’re enjoying your “Last Supper” are you? Well, I hope wherever you’re going that they feed you properly. And with the same good food you’ve enjoyed all your lives.’ Then, to Abigail’s surprise, her aunt took a spoon to put some honey into Emily’s porridge.
‘Thank you, Aunt,’ Abigail said quietly. ‘And Emily would like to collect the eggs before we go – and shall I milk the goats?’
‘No need,’ Edna said shortly. ‘I’ve done both, so you can run along whenever you’re ready to go. I’ve got two young lads taking over from you, starting this morning at eleven. I’ve taken them on for the next two weeks to start with, and if they turn out to be suitable, I’ve said they’d be able to stay longer. I’ll have to see whether they know what hard work really means. Their hours will be seven in the morning until seven at night when they will go home. Of course, they’ll have to stay longer when it’s fruit picking – I’ve told them that.’
After breakfast, Abigail collected their things from upstairs, then went down to find Emily sitting on the doorstep, waiting. She stood up, patting the front of her dress. ‘Look – dolly always likes sitting in my pocket!’
Abigail smiled. The small doll had been one of the first things, perhaps the very first thing, that Dada had given her all those years ago. ‘Well, she is a very tiny dolly, isn’t she, and she does look very comfy there.’
Just then, Edna came through, carrying a small string bag. ‘Goodness knows when and where you’re going to find anything to eat,’ she said, ‘so there are sandwiches and a bottle of my elderflower cordial in this. I hope it’s not too heavy.’ She handed the bag to Abigail. ‘Now, you’d better be off because those lads are due in a few minutes.’
Abigail was almost dumbstruck. That was the first time she could remember her aunt showing any concern, for her niece or her great-niece. For a second, Abigail wanted to put her arms around Edna’s neck and hug her, but thought better of it. Edna would not have appreciated it. Instead, Abigail said, ‘Thank you so much, Aunt.’
Edna merely nodded before going back outside.
Then Abigail, holding Emily’s hand in hers, walked down the front path and away from Coopers for the last time. And with her heart full of hope and anxiety, Abigail whispered under her breath, ‘I promised you I would escape one day, Luke, but I wish you were here with me. And I wish you knew about your daughter. Our little girl …’
Abigail decided to skirt the village rather than go through it, in case they were recognised. She didn’t want to be stopped by any locals and questioned about who Emily was. This wasn’t the time for explanations.
After half an hour walking, they stopped under the shade of a sycamore tree and Emily said, ‘Can I have a drink now, Mummy?’
Abigail opened the string bag and unscrewed the lid of the bottle of elderflower. ‘Here you are, but don’t drink it all. Save a bit for later – until I can buy us something else.’
‘But where are we going now?’ Emily said. ‘Aren’t we going to get on a puffer train?’
‘We are,’ Abigail said patiently, ‘and we’ve seen those huge clouds of steam in the distance already, haven’t we? But there’s just a little further to walk before we reach the station.’ She smiled down. Emily’s sturdy little legs seemed to be having no difficulty in making the journey across the fields. She’d refused Abigail’s offer that she should be carried for a few minutes.
Abigail had decided that they wouldn’t get on the train in the v
illage, but would walk to the Halt a short way up the line, then take the smaller train going to the main branch. Then, finally, they’d be on their way to Bristol.
Lying back with her eyes half-closed, Abigail let her memory take her to all the times she’d spent with Luke … especially those magic Thursday afternoons she’d managed to get to the village to be with him, more often taking their sandwiches to one of the more isolated corners he’d discovered rather than to Mulberry Court, because the housekeeper was usually there. And, held closely in each other’s arms, they’d talk about anything and everything. Well, there was nothing Luke didn’t know because he and his family had travelled all over the place, and it was Luke who’d explained how the trains worked, and that from here the biggest cities were London in one direction and Bristol in the other.
‘London is much bigger than Bristol,’ he’d informed her. ‘In fact, it’s huge. I know London well because we’ve lived there most of my life, but I’ve only been to Bristol a few times. My father was at university there – perhaps that’s where I’ll end up,’ he’d added.
Now, they heard a train whistle and Emily clapped her hands excitedly.
‘Is that our puffer?’ she said. ‘Are we nearly there?’
‘I think so,’ Abigail replied, and almost at once they could see the railway line, like a long brown snake, appearing in the distance, the noise of the approaching engine getting louder. Hurrying their steps now, she glanced down, remembering that her little daughter had never been anywhere near a station, nor had she seen many people. The only visitors who’d come to the cottage had been the gypsies, the vicar or the occasional itinerant salesman – who was soon seen off by Edna. Abigail bit her lip. Emily had such a lot ahead of her.
‘I’ve told you that trains make a terrible noise, haven’t I, Emily?’ she said. ‘So when we get to the station you won’t be afraid, will you?’
‘I’m not afraid!’ Emily replied. ‘I’m not, Mummy!’
Presently, they stood on the platform watching the train pull in at the Halt. There were few other passengers around, and as they alighted they found a compartment all to themselves. As Emily clambered up on to her seat, Abigail said, ‘Well, I think this might be the time to eat our picnic now, Emily.’ She unwrapped the honey and cheese sandwiches, and, with Emily sitting beside her looking at one of her books, Abigail tried to relax, tried not to let any nagging worries spoil the day. They’d taken the first huge step, but was the money she had going to be enough? Exactly how much was she going to need when they got to Bristol – and was it going to be as easy as she’d thought to find work to support them both? Not to mention the fact that she had no idea where they might be sleeping tonight.
Resting her head against the soft back of the seat, Abigail checked that the small, secret leather purse she’d stitched securely into the lining of her bolero was there resting against her heart. And that everything in the strong canvas holdall – her pens and paper, and especially Dada’s war drawings in the wax packet – was protected. His pictures had come through so much already, she was going to look after them until the day she died. Abigail’s heart swelled with love as she thought of her gentle dada and all that he’d gone through.
Abigail allowed herself a small pat on the back that, so far, this momentous day seemed to be going well. They had escaped and they were on their way.
Arriving at the branch line, they got off the small train and went across to the ticket office. ‘One and a half to Bristol, please,’ she said, holding out her money. The desk clerk glanced up.
‘Single or return?’
‘Oh … oh single, please,’ she said quickly. Then, as the man took her coins – ‘We are not coming back, you see. We are never coming back,’ she added.
He looked up curiously at the beautiful young woman standing there in front of him, with the tiny youngster beside her.
‘Well, good luck,’ he said cheerfully.
‘Thank you,’ Abigail said, putting the tickets into her purse. ‘I expect we are going to need it.’
Chapter 5
It had been a long journey, the train stopping at every station before finally pulling in at Bristol. Abigail stood up and went into the corridor to stare out of the window.
‘Bristol Temple Meads!’ the guard called out, then the doors were thrust open, all the passengers spilling out onto the platform and making for the exits.
For much of the time, Emily had been fast asleep in her corner of the carriage, and Abigail went back to wake her up.
‘Come on, Emily,’ she said gently. ‘We have to get off the train now.’
Emily stirred, blinking her eyes, but immediately got down from her seat. ‘Have I been asleep a long time?’
‘Quite a long time,’ Abigail replied, ‘so you will be nice and fresh to set off on the next step of our adventure! We must find somewhere to stay tonight, mustn’t we? But first we will have something to eat.’ Abigail had seen the restaurant sign on the platform as they’d pulled in, and now she was suddenly dying for a cup of tea. ‘Are you hungry, Emily?’
‘Yes – and can I have some chips?’
Abigail retrieved their belongings from the rack above their heads, then helped Emily get off the train. And as they stepped onto the platform, the noise, the shouting, the hissing from the engine, the guard’s whistle, the hubbub with everyone rushing about was frightening. Abigail pulled Emily towards her.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Abigail said. ‘We’ll soon be getting away from here.’
‘I’m not afraid,’ Emily said, ‘but can we have chips soon? I’m hungry, and so is dolly.’
The restaurant was a huge room and it was fairly busy, but there were several vacant tables and Abigail led Emily over to one in the corner. ‘You sit here and look after the bags, Emily, and I will go to the counter and order our food,’ she said. ‘I won’t be long. You can see where I am.’
The queue of people waiting to be served was not long, and soon it was Abigail’s turn. The woman behind the counter looked down, a half-smile on her lips. She’d seen these two come in a few minutes ago and admitted to being curious. Well, the little child was quite cute, and the woman very beautiful – but who would wear clogs in this weather! Those things clattering along the floor had made everyone look up. ‘What can I get you?’ she said pleasantly.
‘A pot of tea and a glass of milk, and some chips? Two plates please,’ Abigail said, already opening her purse.
‘Oh no chips left, I’m afraid,’ the woman said, ‘and we won’t be frying any more tonight. But we’ve got sandwiches, and beans on toast or eggs on toast – and, oh yes, there are some sausages left.’
Abigail’s heart sank. Emily was an easy child to please, but she’d specially asked for chips, her favourite food, and she’d been so good all day. Abigail, too, had imagined the pleasure of dipping a few chips into some salt … sometimes potato chips were the only things that would immediately satisfy the pangs of hunger.
She shrugged. ‘Oh, well, four sausages, please, and some bread – and two packets of those biscuits?’
The woman began preparing their order, and without looking up she said, ‘Your little sister is very much like you, isn’t she?’
And it was true. Apart from the difference in the colour of their hair, they both had the same heart-shaped face, the same tip-tilted nose, the same appealing expression in their wide green eyes.
Without a beat, Abigail said, ‘Oh – Emily is not my sister – she’s my daughter.’ Well, Abigail had been determined that from the outset everyone was going to know the situation. That was how it was going to be from now on.
The woman’s brief smile disappeared, and, tight-lipped, she almost slapped the order down on the counter. Her daughter, had she said? Huh! And no ring, so obviously not married! Disgusting! Young girls like her were no better than sluts!
Abigail paid the bill – which she’d noted from the list above the counter that she had enough money for, then took their tray of food a
cross to Emily. ‘Sorry, darling – they didn’t have any chips,’ she said.
Emily’s face fell. ‘No chips? Oh but – I wanted chips! I’m so hungry!’ And to Abigail’s surprise, her little daughter burst into a flood of tears.
‘Shhh, Emily,’ Abigail said, glancing around. ‘Don’t make a fuss, there’s a good girl. I promise we’ll get some chips tomorrow.’
‘But I want some now!’ Emily wailed. ‘Why can’t we have them?’
‘Because they’re all gone,’ Abigail said, drawing Emily onto her lap.
‘Well then, I wish we were back at Coopers where you would cook me some chips,’ Emily said, pushing the plate of sausages away so crossly it nearly fell on the floor. She buried her head into Abigail’s shoulder. ‘You would have made me some chips. I’m hungry and I’m tired and I wish we were going to be sleeping in our own bed tonight.’
To her own consternation, Abigail realised that without much trouble she could have shed a tear of her own. It had been a long day and a long journey, and she had no idea where they would be sleeping tonight.
What had she done, jumping into the unknown like this? She’d been so certain that it was the right thing, the thing she’d wanted to do for so long. Yet it had taken a silly little incident to make her feel unsettled and unsafe.
She took out her handkerchief to dab briefly at her eyes which had begun to mist, and Emily looked up. ‘Are you crying, too? Do you wish we were back home?’
Abigail shook her head. ‘No, I do not, Emily,’ she said firmly. ‘We shall soon find another home where we will be just as comfy, I promise you.’
From her seat a few tables along, Eileen Matthews couldn’t help being aware of the small drama taking place over there in the corner. Earlier, she had seen them enter the restaurant – the young woman and the very small child – and it had been hard not to stare because there was something about them that made you look twice. The woman was attractive – no, beautiful – and the little girl was picture-perfect. They only had bags with them, not cases, so perhaps they hadn’t got off the train but were waiting here for someone.