‘You’re a stranger,’ Alfie said cheerfully.
‘Hello, Alfie. You look like you’re off somewhere.’
‘Aye, I am in a minute. Miss Celeste is goin’ over to Rosemerryn this afternoon. She’s takin’ me with her to see the animals and play with Vicki.’
It was typical of Alfie, vivacious and benevolent, not to mind playing with a girl much younger than himself. Ince was reminded that until recently he had been of a similar disposition to the boy, but his cosy, familiar world had been rocked to its foundations. He had tried hard, and the Reverend Endean had urged him to come back to chapel and let the Lord do His healing work on him, but Ince needed more time to be alone before he could face starting a brand new phase of his life.
He took a small paper bag out of the shopping bag. ‘Will you take these to Vicki for me, please? It’s two sherbet dips. I’m sure she’ll share them with you.’
‘Right-o, thanks.’ Alfie kept abreast of all the gossip and knew he would find himself on dangerous ground if he mentioned Mr and Mrs Jeffries to Ince, but he wasn’t above making playful mischief. ‘You been over to Carrick Cross lately? Me mum sends me there to get goat’s milk for me baby sister. There’s a pretty lady livin’ there now. But you know that, don’t you? You used to go over there to help out, didn’t you? But not these days. I know because Miss Eve talks about you all the time.’
‘Does she now?’ Ince replied nonchalantly, but his stomach churned to hear Eve was apparently taking an interest in him. He had thought she might have called at Johnny’s cottage to inquire about him. He’d hoped she would. It had been an agreeable experience to have Eve fussing over him, holding his head against her soft bosom, gently dabbing his face with a handkerchief. He had been touched by her thoughtfulness in accompanying him to Johnny’s cottage. When he had said he didn’t want to talk about the unleashing of Spencer’s fury on him, he hadn’t meant he didn’t want to speak to her again. So why hadn’t she come to see him? He knew he had been short with her at the fete when Les had introduced her as Eve Pascoe but he’d thought they had parted friends. He had felt hurt by her abandonment of him and had fallen deeper into his melancholy, telling himself he couldn’t care less about Eve Tremorrow.
Alfie blew his cheeks out like a hamster then made a quizzical face. ‘I reckon she’s got a fancy for you. If you don’t get over there soon I reckon you’ll miss your chance.’
‘Don’t be silly, Alfie,’ Ince said crossly and he stalked off.
‘I didn’t mean anythin’,’ Alfie shouted after him, then he shrugged his scrawny shoulders and went back up the hill to see if Celeste was ready.
Dumping the shopping in the kitchen, Ince tossed the change on the dresser, ran upstairs to his room at the back of the cottage, flopped down on the bed and closed his eyes to think about what Alfie had said about Eve Tremorrow. He was pulled up sharp to hear her talking to Johnny in the garden. He sprang off the bed and went to the window. There she was, as large as life, neat and elegant in a fitted dress, small straw hat and white gloves, her clutch bag tucked under her arm. The window was open and he could hear every word.
‘I congratulate you on your bantam hens, Mr Prouse. They’re fine, healthy stock.’
‘Call me Johnny, m’dear.’ Johnny looked at Eve pointedly. ‘They were all the company I had until Ince came to live with me. He’s a fine young man.’
‘He was very good to my grandfather. I’m grateful to him for putting things in order at Carrick Cross. We’d like him to come and do some work for us. Grandfather can’t manage the place like he used to. I know people think Grandfather is lazy but he really is quite frail and he gets these terrible headaches. We can only afford to pay Ince for a few hours a week but I understand he hasn’t taken another job yet, it might help tide him over until he does. I hope he won’t be offended at my asking him.’
‘Not at all,’ and Ince could see the glee spreading over Johnny’s wrinkly face. ‘Come inside for a cup of tea. He should be back from the shop by now.’
Ince stayed stubbornly in his room. A few weeks ago he wouldn’t have believed he could behave like this. He had first helped Les Tremorrow out of the kindness of his heart but he baulked at his granddaughter making arrangements for his life – which was how he viewed it.
Johnny saw the shopping bag and called up the stairs to him. ‘Ince! Miss Pascoe is here wanting a word with you.’
Ince stayed put and did not reply.
‘Ince! Did you hear me?’
He kept his mouth clamped shut and didn’t move a muscle.
‘Ince!’
Grumbling under his breath, Johnny began the slow struggle up the stairs. Ince sighed in submission. He couldn’t let Johnny shift his old bones on the unnecessary climb.
‘I’m coming!’
‘About time too,’ Johnny uttered when he reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’
‘Where is she?’ Ince asked, not altogether contritely.
‘In the sitting room. Get in there and keep her company. I’ll bring in some tea by and by.’
To show he wasn’t particularly pleased at seeing Eve, Ince entered the room with his hands deep in his pockets. ‘Miss Pascoe,’ he said coolly.
Eve had a small ornament of an eighteenth-century lady playing a lute in her hands and she took her time admiring it. After putting it back in its exact place she observed Ince for several moments, weighing him up, until the annoyance dropped off his face to be replaced by shame. Ince knew she had overheard how long it had taken Johnny to get him down the stairs.
‘I heard you were still in low spirits.’
He took his hands out of his pockets. His next words, although challenging, were a mite friendlier. ‘What if I am?’
‘I’m sorry about what happened with your friend.’
‘You’ve heard the rumours as to why it was supposed to have happened?’
She nodded briefly. ‘Mr Jeffries must have been out of his mind.’ She made a small movement, a slight tensing of her body, and Ince knew she wouldn’t pry. ‘I’ve come on Grandfather’s behalf to offer you a little work.’
‘I know. I overheard you talking to Johnny.’
‘You look as if you’re offended by that. I’m sorry. Do you want the work?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘If I say no, Johnny will never let me hear the last of it. I wouldn’t like to see all my hard work go to waste. I suppose it will be good to be useful again.’
Eve smiled at him. ‘Shall we expect you on Monday then? You can work out the hours and pay with Grandfather then.’
Ince couldn’t bring himself actually to smile back but he felt his tense facial muscles slackening. Eve Tremorrow wasn’t a patronising busybody. She was a gentle, modest woman and she had a quieting effect on him. He found he was looking forward to being at Carrick Cross again. ‘I’ll be there bright and early.’
Johnny came in with the tea and Ince took the tray from him and set out the cups and saucers. Ince was amused to see Johnny eyeing him and Eve to ascertain how they had been getting on. Ince put him out of his misery.
‘I’m going to work at Carrick Cross on Monday, Johnny.’
‘Oh, really? That’ll do ’ee good, boy. Out in the fresh air, getting your hands in good clean earth again. That’s what you need.’ Johnny winked slyly at Eve and nodded in delight. ‘How do you like Kilgarthen then, Eve?’
‘I haven’t seen much of it yet nor met many people, Johnny.’
‘Easy answer to that,’ Johnny said artfully, looking at Ince then Eve. ‘Come to the pub tonight. There’s a little farewell do for Miss Cunningham. She told me all about it. She’s laying on some nice grub. Be free drinks all round. You won’t have the chance to get to know she but you will some of the other folk. There’ll be music, maybe even some dancing. Everybody’s going. The Reverend Endean’s going, told me himself. Why don’t you come as well, Ince?’
Ince’s immediate reaction was to say no but he stayed s
ilent, waiting for Eve’s reaction. She appeared to be thinking, then she looked at him.
‘You’re not a teetotaller, are you?’ Johnny prompted her.
‘No, but I rarely take a drink,’ Eve said, dropping her eyes demurely to her cup of tea.
Johnny got up from his chair and fussed with the tray, pouring tea into an already full cup. ‘Ince,’ he hissed through the side of his mouth. ‘Ask her out.’
Ince choked on a mouthful of tea. He thought Johnny would break a blood vessel, he was so eager. Entering a pub full of noisy people was the last thing Ince desired. He would be gawped at, talked about, given all manner of advice and consolation and receive a certain amount of scorn, but it would stop a few mouths in mid-track if he walked into the Tremewan Arms with the enigmatic Miss Eve Tremorrow/Pascoe, who was nearly as elusive as he was in the village nowadays. Ince liked the idea of that. Suddenly he didn’t want to hide away any more.
‘Would you like to go, Eve?’ he asked boldly. ‘You could make your second debut and I could re-emerge into the social life of the village.’
Both men waited with bated breath for her answer and in the main both found it satisfactory.
Sipping her tea, she looked straight ahead at nothing in particular. ‘Grandfather could do with an evening out. We’ll meet you and Johnny there.’
Chapter 23
Laura was baking bread. Celeste declined to grease the bread tins for her and sat back and filed her nails.
‘You may be looking forward to motherhood but I don’t suppose we shall ever see you become the slightest bit domesticated,’ Laura smiled at her friend.
‘Mmmm,’ Celeste replied thoughtfully. ‘Judging by the satisfied look on your face I should say you’ll soon be joining me and Dolores Uren with a stomach out here.’ She made an arc in front of her. ‘I take it all is well in the bedroom again with you and Spencer?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Laura replied breezily, still feeling warm and deliciously alive after last night’s loving.
The moment their passion had been spent Spencer had held her in his arms and apologised over and over again for calling her a slut and not trusting her. She told him she forgave him and took the plunge and brought up Ince’s name. Spencer had poured out his heart about his feelings for his friend, how much he regretted hurting Ince physically and what he had accused him of. Spencer had said he was going to try to repair their friendship the first chance he got.
‘And you’re happy and content again?’ asked Celeste.
‘I’ll settle for what I’ve got and hopefully soon a baby of my own.’
‘Well, you can have plenty of fun making up for lost time, darling. And don’t we unattached women all envy you your gorgeous man. You’ll soon be bouncing chubby blonde babies on your knee. There could be quite a few of us in the same boat. Tressa Macarthur wants another baby, so I’ve heard.’ Celeste studied her nails and chuckled wickedly. ‘And then there’s Joy Miller.’
‘Oh, Joy doesn’t want any more. She’s told me so herself.’
‘Then she ought to be more careful.’
Laura stopped kneading the dough and used the side of her arm to wipe flour off her nose. ‘What do you mean? Do you know something I don’t?’
Celeste gave Laura an even more wicked look. ‘The trouble with you, darling, is you’ve been so caught up with your own problems that you must be the only one in the village who doesn’t know, apart from her poor faithful dog of a husband of course. Joy Miller is having an affair with Bruce Tamblyn.’
‘What?’ Laura’s eyes shot wide open. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I am or I wouldn’t have said so. Joy is often in the shop alone with him during the lunchtime closing when she should be elsewhere, or they slip out on the moor or one or two other little places when Bert is at his Buffalo meetings in town. When Benjy plays here with Vicki, the other three children are packed off to their grandmother’s, leaving Joy free to enjoy herself.’
‘Good grief! So Kilgarthen has a real life affair after all. I never expected it of Joy, though, she’s always seemed so sensible. I’d never have thought she’d do this to her family. I’ll have to have a talk with her.’
‘Why? The wisest thing is to keep out of it.’ Celeste was using the tone of the wise and elderly now. ‘With the way talk is flying round the village I should think her husband will find out soon and all hell might break loose. You don’t want to be involved in anything nasty.’
‘I wouldn’t say a word normally but Joy works in the shop in my place. Bruce is Daisy’s son and she’s going to be terribly upset if there’s ever a big scene in the shop.’
‘Well, you have a point but I would still keep out of it, Laura. It’s not your responsibility. Spencer might not be happy if you got caught up in someone else’s scandal.’
Laura had not thought of it from that angle. She didn’t want anything to undermine her new happiness. ‘I’ll think about it then,’ she promised. The echo of a sudden whoop of delight came from outside. ‘Sounds like Alfie’s enjoying himself.’
‘Vicki’s showing him the animals. His little face was beaming when I came indoors. He really likes the farm. I’ll miss that boy when I leave here. You will keep an eye on him for me, won’t you, Laura? And let me know what’s happening with the Urens? There’s the added worry of Gerald beating Dolores and I don’t want the children hurt.’
‘Is that happening?’ Laura said guiltily as she put two loaves in the oven. ‘Since I married I seem to have lost touch with what’s going on in the village.’
Celeste took her purse out of her handbag and put a few pound notes on the table. ‘You just look after your own family, my girl,’ she said sternly. ‘I said observe, not get involved. I don’t want to be worrying about you from the Lake District.’
‘What’s that for?’ Laura asked, pointing at the money.
‘Rent for Little Cot. You can stop making that face, Laura, I insist. I suppose you’ll be renting it out again,’ then Celeste’s face unfolded in a wry expression, ‘or will you be keeping it empty as a haven away from Spencer and his moods?’
They laughed but with Celeste’s departure so close they fell into a sad silence. Then Laura said, ‘Why don’t you get in touch with David, Celeste? It’s got to be worth a try.’
‘You know the story, Laura. I left things too late, and anyway he probably has someone else by now. I shall always love David but now I’m going to look forward and do the best for our baby.’
* * *
His face sticky from the sherbet dip, Alfie looked critically at a large pink and dark grey pig slumbering half in and half out of the sty. Bending his neck, he whispered in Vicki’s ear, ‘Be careful what you say. That’s really Goering, the Reich’s master spy.’
Vicki, her face also sticky, shivered as his warm breath tickled her skin and she clapped a hand to her ear. ‘Eh? What are you—’
Then she remembered that everything she had shown Alfie so far had become part of his playful imagination. The hens had been a scouting party of Navaho Indians. Alfie had let out a bloodcurdling cry as they stood amidst them and the hens had scattered squawking in fright in all directions. Alfie had thought that hilarious. The ducks on and about the duck pond were dangerous crocodiles that only he, Alfie, could deal with as Tarzan of the Apes. Alfie had greatly admired Button, the two-day-old calf, although he had rudely declared her name, chosen by Vicki, as ‘ruddy stupid’. Then Button had turned into Dr Franklinson, a mad scientist who cooked children’s brains to steal their intelligence. Five minutes ago Alfie had terrified Vicki by declaring he was going to pull back the cover of the well, leap up on the wall and dance a jig all the way round it, to show the Sheriff of Nottingham that he, Robin Hood, wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. Vicki had taken in all his high jinks in the spirit of the hero-worship that the boy acquired as readily as dirt and bruises. Now they had to be careful not to give away vital secrets to the Nazis.
‘I know,’ she whispered back gleefully
. ‘Careless talk costs lives.’ She’d heard that in the school playground.
Putting his strong rough hands on her narrow shoulders, Alfie gently pushed Vicki behind him. ‘Goering is a murderous swine,’ he hissed back to her, ‘but you’re quite safe now. When I give the sign we’ll make a break for it over to that bombed-out building.’
The old trap house had been pulled down and there was some rubble left on its site. Vicki thought he must mean there. She tapped his back. ‘What’s the sign?’
Alfie was about to say something but decided that scratching his bum would be a bit too disgusting for a small girl to follow. ‘When I raise my hand and drop it suddenly. Got that?’
‘Yes,’ she replied dutifully.
Vicki waited with bated breath. She took her eyes off the pig, who would never seem quite so friendly and snuffly to her again, and stared at Alfie’s hand. Up it came on the end of his long spindly arm which was covered with stiff ginger hairs. Down the hand came and she sped off, racing so fast she reached safety in front of her leader’s longer legs.
Always one to give honour where it was due, Alfie patted her shoulder. ‘Not bad for a girl.’ He spat on the palm of his hand. ‘Put it there.’
‘Put what there?’ she asked, looking at the proffered flesh dubiously.
‘Cor, you have been brought up soft. Your hand, of course, and you have to spit on it first. We’ll shake on it and you’ll be my friend for life.’
‘Really?’ To Vicki this was one of the highest honours she had ever received.
Rosemerryn Page 26