The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  She could hear Michael warbling and splashing.

  Smiling, Maddie fell asleep.

  Seven

  ‘You know that field of tulips just beyond where your cows are, Mr Frank?’

  Seated at the breakfast table Maddie spoke about the sight that had intrigued her ever since the morning she had first seen the field. Each time she fetched the cows, she would stand for a few moments just drinking in the beautiful sight.

  ‘Stop your chatter and get on with your breakfast,’ came Harriet’s harsh voice.

  Maddie saw Frank glance towards the housekeeper. He said nothing but brought his gaze round to Maddie and said quietly, ‘Aye, lass, what about it?’

  Early that morning she had seen a line of women moving amongst the blooms. ‘They were cutting them this morning. Not leaving any long stalks on the flowers like you do to put in a vase, but cutting just the heads off.’

  ‘Aye well, lass, they have to. Like I told you, they’re running a business.’

  ‘They use some as cut flowers, though,’ Michael put in.

  ‘That’s true. They pack and send a lot away, but there’s a market stall in town that’s loaded with flowers this time of the year.’

  ‘Oh, I’d love to see it.’

  The man’s smile broadened. ‘Well, it’s market day tomorrow and I was going to go myself to look at some beast. You can come with me, if you like.’

  ‘It’s the Spring Fair as well, isn’t it, Dad?’ Michael said. ‘There’ll be roundabouts and swings, won’t there?’

  ‘You’re right, Michael. I expect it’ll be in the Black Swan Yard and the field behind it.’ Frank glanced round the table, now including everyone. ‘I tell you what, we’ll all go. Make an outing of it and have lunch at the White Hart.’

  ‘Great,’ was Michael’s reply but Maddie saw Nick look towards his mother.

  ‘Not me, Mr Frank,’ she said sharply and then added, ‘but thank you for the invitation.’

  ‘Oh come along, Harriet,’ Frank coaxed. ‘You can’t avoid going into the town for ever. Besides, you went not long ago when you got those clothes for Maddie.’

  A glance passed between them and Maddie, anxious not to give away the fact that she had overheard their quarrel about the clothes, stared down at her plate.

  Harriet too averted her eyes from Frank’s gaze now, hesitating before admitting, ‘No, I didn’t. I got Mrs Grange from the corner shop in the village to get them for me.’

  Frank was nodding slowly. ‘Ah yes, Mrs Grange.’ He picked up a forkful of bacon and chewed it slowly, his thoughtful gaze still on his housekeeper.

  ‘Besides,’ she was saying, ‘who’s to see to things here if we all go off gallivanting?’ Her mouth was tight with disapproval. ‘And what about your milk round, Michael?’

  ‘I’ll tell everyone on my round this morning that their milk will be a little late tomorrow. I’ll come back from town once we’ve had this posh lunch and do the round in the afternoon.’

  ‘Folks won’t like that.’

  ‘We’ll see to everything before we go,’ Frank said. ‘And I’d really like you to come with us, Harriet.’ His grin was boyish and he looked, for a moment, nearer the age of his own son. ‘I’ll even try to get the car going. If I can scrounge a drop of petrol, we’ll travel in style. I’ll have a look at it after breakfast.’

  ‘We’ll help you, Dad. Won’t we, Nick? I’ll only have time for a quick look with you now before I have to get off on my round, but I’ll help this afternoon.’

  Now the younger boy smiled but avoided looking at his mother. Maddie had no such qualms and watched the housekeeper’s face. It was obvious that the woman was struggling to overcome some kind of fear that only Frank seemed to understand. To Maddie’s amazement, she saw the tightness around Harriet’s mouth slacken as she put her head on one side with an almost coy expression. ‘Well, in that case, Mr Frank, yes, Nicholas and I would be delighted to go.’ Turning to her son, she added, ‘Now, you help Mr Frank by doing some of his jobs if he’s going to be busy with the motor car. You can start by cleaning out the hen-house. And you can feed the pigs.’

  Nick’s mouth was suddenly sulky as he muttered, ‘Yes, Mam.’

  They rose from the table, Frank and Michael chatting animatedly about the motor. Outside, Maddie touched Nick’s arm. ‘I’ll do the hen-house, if you want to go with Mr Frank and Michael.’

  The pale grey eyes behind the spectacles blinked. ‘Would you really?’

  ‘’Course I will. What do I know about cars and engines and things?’ She grinned. ‘But I have learnt how to muck out.’

  A flush crept up the boy’s face as he said, so quietly she hardly heard the words, ‘I never thought you’d do something like that for me. If you’re really sure, I would like to go an’ watch. I like engines. Anything mechanical.’

  ‘What about the pigs?’

  ‘I’ll do them later.’

  It was the longest conversation she had had with Nick. She smiled at him. ‘Go on, then. Go and stick your head under the car bonnet with Mr Frank.’

  The hardened layers of chicken dirt were more difficult to scrape up than she had imagined, but once she had dug down to the concrete floor of the building and could get the sharp edge of the spade beneath the layers, it was easier. She was actually singing to herself when she heard Harriet’s voice behind her.

  ‘What are you doing? I told Nicholas to do this job. You should be in the Dairy.’

  Maddie felt herself trapped. She knew if she told the housekeeper where Nick was, he would be in trouble.

  Cheerfully, she said, ‘There’s nothing much to do in the Dairy, Mrs T, so I thought I’d help Nick.’

  ‘Don’t answer me back. There’s always work in the Dairy, girl. And my name’s Mrs Trowbridge to you.’

  She moved into the dimness of the building treading carefully across the slippery floor and came close to Maddie. Gripping the girl’s arm, she leant towards her. ‘I know your little game, miss. Flirting with young Michael and even fluttering your eyelashes at Mr Frank. Don’t think I don’t know. Well, if I had my way, you’d be back at that Home quicker than you came.’

  ‘You picked me,’ Maddie shot back. Harriet blinked, shocked by the girl’s effrontery.

  ‘You cheeky little madam. I wish I’d left you where you were.’ She thrust her face even closer. ‘If you really want to know, girl, I didn’t so much “pick” you as you was the only one available. The matron said that the other two who were school-leaving age had already got fixed up with jobs.’ Her grip on Maddie’s arm tightened. ‘That should have warned me, shouldn’t it? Nobody else wanted you.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. You picked me purposely,’ Maddie flashed back, now so angry that she forgot caution. ‘ “Are you sure she’s the one,” you said.’

  For a moment, Harriet looked perplexed, almost guilty, as if she had been caught out. ‘How . . .?’ she began, but Maddie interrupted, unable to stop the words bursting form her mouth. ‘I know exactly why you picked me. You thought I’d got no family. I heard you ask Mrs Potter if I’d got anyone belonging me and when she said “no”, you thought no one would ever come looking for me. You thought you could work me to death and no one would know – or – or care.’ Her voice threatened to quaver, but she carried on defiantly. ‘Well, I have got family, so there. And one day they’ll come looking for me . . .’

  ‘Oh no they won’t . . .’ Harriet began, her eyes sparkling with malice, but whatever she had been about to say ended in a cry of alarm, as, hurt and humiliated, Maddie twisted herself free of the woman’s grip so suddenly that Harriet was thrown off-balance. She tottered backwards, dropping the basket, half-filled with eggs. Her arms flailed helplessly as she sat down heavily in the dirt that Maddie had just scraped into a pile. For a moment, Maddie had the overwhelming urge to laugh, but as the woman groaned and screwed up her face in pain, the girl’s mirth died.

  She held out her hand to help. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs T – Mrs Trowbridge.
I didn’t mean . . .’

  ‘You – you little hussy. Wait ’til I tell Mr Frank about this.’ Ignoring Maddie’s hand, the woman struggled to regain her feet. ‘Just look at all that waste.’ She pointed to the eggs smashed on the floor, their yellow yolks oozing across the wet dirt. Already hens were running to peck at the raw egg. ‘Get it cleaned up quickly. You’ll have the hens breaking their own eggs to eat them next, once they get a taste.’

  ‘What do you mean . . .?’ Maddie began, but the woman’s voice rose.

  ‘Get it cleaned up, I tell you. Get this finished and then get the rest of the eggs collected.’

  She turned and limped away, holding her right buttock.

  Maddie no longer felt the desire to laugh. Now she was in real trouble.

  ‘Send her back. She’s useless. Good for nothing. She’s trouble with a capital T.’

  ‘Harriet, she’s only a little lass. How can she be expected to do everything right just yet? Besides, what actually happened in there?’

  Maddie waited, holding her breath. This time she was not eavesdropping on the quarrel between Frank and his housekeeper. This time she was right in the middle of it.

  ‘She pushed me over.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. You’d got hold of my arm and I pulled myself free and you fell over.’

  The woman glared at her. ‘You pushed me. Said I was walking on your clean floor.’ Harriet’s mouth twisted into a sneer. ‘Clean floor. I ask you, Mr Frank. Clean floor in a hen-house?’

  Maddie gasped and felt her face flush with anger. ‘That’s a lie. I never said that.’

  ‘Oh, calling me a liar now, are you? It’s you that’s the little liar.’ Harriet turned to Frank. ‘See how red her face is. Are you going to take her word against mine?’

  Helplessly, Frank glanced from one to the other.

  Maddie had always hated deceit of any kind. She’d hated it in the Home when girls had taken one another’s belongings and then lied their way out of trouble. She’d once sat on a girl until she’d confessed to taking Jenny’s hairslide.

  Through gritted teeth Maddie said now, ‘I never tell lies.’

  ‘Send her back, Mr Frank. Back where she belongs.’

  For a moment he closed his eyes, sighed heavily and shook his head, irritated by the whole incident. Then he looked down at Maddie. ‘I really don’t want to have to do that, so try to be a good lass, eh?’ His tone was gentle, almost sad, and then he reached out and touched her hair in a gesture of tender affection.

  And that was Maddie’s undoing.

  She gave a little sob, turned and fled from the kitchen, through the wash-house and out of the back door.

  Then she ran and ran. Out of the yard, down the lane to the meadow where the cows grazed, not stopping until she had run the full length of it and come to a halt at the hedge overlooking the field of flowers.

  Now breathless, her crying was coming in huge, wracking sobs. The pretty blooms were all gone, only the headless stalks and the green leaves were left.

  Gone too, was Maddie’s feeling of security.

  If Harriet Trowbridge could lie about a silly thing like that today, then there was no telling to what lengths she would go to get rid of Maddie. But what hurt the girl the most was that Frank had believed his housekeeper.

  He had not believed Maddie.

  Eight

  ‘Are you getting ready then? We’ll be going in half an hour.’

  Maddie, watching Michael standing before the mirror over the mantelpiece to tie his tie, said, ‘I didn’t think I’d be going. Not now.’

  It was almost eight o’clock the following morning. Everyone had risen early to finish the milking and have breakfast so that they could arrive at the market as early as possible, but nothing more had been said about Maddie going.

  Michael came and leant on his hands on the table. ‘That’s all forgotten, young’un. Go and get ready. Look sharp.’

  Still Maddie did not move. ‘Hadn’t you better ask Mr Frank?’ Her voice was husky with the tears she was trying to hold back.

  Since the previous morning, Maddie had been awaiting her punishment. For the first time since coming to Few Farm, Maddie felt as if she was back at the Home. It was just the same as Mrs Potter had done when Maddie had, to the matron’s mind, misbehaved. Hour after hour had been allowed to tick by whilst Maddie pondered upon the inevitable punishment. What would it be this time? Extra chores, like scrubbing the tiles of the kitchen floor until her hands were red raw and her knees ached. Or would it be the cane? Maddie would imagine the thin cane whistling through the air behind her before it struck her bare bottom.

  She shifted uncomfortably in the chair now under Michael’s gaze, already feeling the anticipated pain. She guessed it would be Mrs Trowbridge who would administer the strokes and she knew that the housekeeper would relish each and every weal that appeared on Maddie’s skin.

  Or maybe she would be shut in a cupboard somewhere, though offhand she couldn’t think of one here that resembled the one under the stairs at the Home . . .

  She would have stood any one of these punishments without a murmur, Maddie thought, if only they would let her go with them to the market today. But she knew that Harriet Trowbridge would guess that the very worst punishment she could inflict upon Maddie would be to leave her at home.

  Maddie bit her lip as she looked up at Michael. ‘Mrs T won’t want me to come.’

  Michael straightened up. ‘Well then, I’ll take you. We’ll go on our own, just you and me. But hurry up, ’cos if we’ve got to walk all the way to town, we’d best be off now.’

  Maddie swallowed and her heart began to thump with excitement. ‘D’you mean it? Really?’

  He was grinning at her now. ‘’Course I do. Go on.’

  Ten minutes later she was back downstairs, face scrubbed, hair brushed and dress changed, though the latter still caused her anguish. The yellow cotton dress, one of the second-hand garments from the market stall, hung shapelessly on her thin frame, the hem too long and uneven. And her stout, lace-up brown shoes were too heavy for a fine early summer day. But Michael smiled down at her and winked.

  ‘Pretty as a tulip,’ he said kindly, but she knew he couldn’t mean it. ‘Come on, then.’

  As they were leaving by the back door, they collided with Frank coming in.

  ‘Hello, you two. All ready?’

  ‘We thought we’d go on our own, Dad,’ Michael said quietly. ‘Leave more room in the car.’

  Frank glanced shrewdly from one to the other. ‘Well, that’s all right, but I was looking forward to us all going together. Won’t you come with us?’ He glanced from one to the other and then Maddie felt Michael’s gaze upon her. He was trying to shield her, but it was up to her to tell the truth. Hadn’t she said, so vehemently, that she never told lies. Well, neither would she let someone else even bend the truth to help her.

  Squarely she faced Frank. ‘I didn’t think I’d be allowed to go. Not after what happened yesterday. So Michael said he – he’d . . .’ She shot a glance at the older boy, hoping she wasn’t about to get him into trouble with his father. ‘He’d take me.’

  ‘Oh Maddie.’ To her surprise, Frank’s voice was sorrowful rather than angry. His expression told her that maybe he guessed what had been in her mind, perhaps even imagined the harsh discipline she had endured already in her young life. ‘You’re not at the Home now, love. We’re not going to punish you like that. If you do something wrong, well, we’ll tell you about it at the time.’ He moved closer to her and put his arm about her shoulders, looking down into her upturned face. ‘We might get a bit cross now and again, but once it’s over, that’s it. See?’

  Wordlessly, Maddie nodded. She couldn’t speak for the lump in her throat, not caused by misery now, but by this man’s kindness. She was even prepared to forgive him for seeming not to believe her the previous day.

  ‘So,’ he was saying, ‘shall we all go together?’

  Maddie looked at Michael, who
smiled and nodded.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Maddie said in a small voice.

  He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and said, ‘Good. Now, I’d better go and make myself look respectable.’

  Harriet made a great play of limping across the yard to the motor car and easing herself into the front passenger seat beside Frank. Maddie, squashed between Michael and Nick in the back seat, said nothing.

  ‘All set?’ Frank asked as all the doors were slammed shut. ‘Here we go. Come on, Bertha, old girl. I hope you haven’t forgotten how to do it after all this time.’

  With a grating of gears and a couple of kangaroo hops, they were out of the gate and gaining speed down the lane.

  ‘I don’t think it’s Bertha that’s forgotten, Dad,’ Michael shouted. ‘I reckon it’s you that’s forgotten how to drive her.’

  ‘You could be right, son. Hang on to your hat, Harriet, I’m about to take you round this next corner on two wheels.’

  Harriet gave a little shriek of alarm and clutched at her black hat whilst in the back seat the three youngsters held onto each other and thrust their hands across their mouths to stifle their laughter.

  The cattle market was held in a wide street. There were no pens for the animals, like in the sheep market, and the beast just stood, quite patiently, in the open, cobbled street in clusters of four, five or six with only a drover to tend them.

  Brought up in an all-female establishment, Maddie had never seen so many men together in one place in her life.

  ‘Where have they all come from?’ she asked, gazing around her in wide-eyed amazement.

  ‘All over Lincolnshire,’ Michael said. ‘They even come from Nottingham, Leicester and Cambridgeshire.’

  ‘Really?’ She couldn’t take her eyes off them. Some were dressed in farmers’ workaday clothes, jackets, caps and stout boots, but some were smartly dressed in checked jackets and plus-fours. There were even one or two elderly gentlemen who wore black suits and bowler hats.

  Maddie was fascinated by the sounds, the sights and even the smells. She breathed in the whole atmosphere, revelling in being a part of it, relishing the feeling of belonging. She watched the beast being paraded around before interested buyers and listened, open-mouthed, to the auctioneer rattling off the bids so quickly that she could scarcely follow him.