The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘Mind you don’t nod your head, young’un, else you might find yourself the proud owner of half a dozen cows,’ Michael teased.

  Maddie laughed, but the next time the auctioneer’s glance went around the crowd, she stood rigidly still, even holding her breath.

  ‘Maddie! Maddie!’

  She knew the voice even before she saw the small figure darting amongst the crowd, pushing her way through to reach her.

  ‘Jen. Oh Jen.’ The two girls flew into each other’s arms.

  ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ the young girl was crying now, tears running down her face as she hugged her friend. ‘It’s awful there without you.’

  ‘Did you get my letter?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ She pulled back and looked up into Maddie’s face, smiling now through her tears. ‘It’s the first letter I’ve ever had in me whole life.’

  Maddie giggled. ‘It’s the first time I’ve ever been able to write one. But what are you doing here? In town?’

  ‘Mrs Potter brought me. She’s over there. I had an interview with someone who grows flowers, but I don’t think I’ll get the job. I’m too little to stand at the bench to pack them into the boxes, the man said.’ She pulled a face. ‘I don’t think she’s very pleased with me.’

  ‘So, what’s new?’ Maddie grinned and they hugged each other again until Frank cleared his throat and said, ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend, Maddie?’

  The girls pulled apart and Maddie, with the habit of years, pulled Jenny’s coat straight and smoothed back her wayward hair. Then she bent and pulled up the girl’s socks that were wrinkled about her ankles, as she said, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Frank. This is my friend, Jenny, from the Home.’

  Jenny smiled shyly as each member of the household from Few Farm acknowledged her in their different ways. Frank stepped forward and shook her hand, Michael flashed her his engaging grin whilst Nick smiled shyly from behind his spectacles. Only Harriet gave a curt, unsmiling nod, though her glance took in the child’s appearance from head to toe. Maddie heard her sniff of disapproval when Frank said, ‘Would you like to join us, Jenny? We were just going to have lunch at the White Hart.’

  Jenny glanced over her shoulder. ‘I’d love to, Mr Brackenbury. But I daren’t. Mrs Potter . . .’

  ‘Well now . . .’ Frank held out his hand, ‘let’s you and me go and find this Mrs Potter and ask her if the Brackenbury family might have the pleasure of your company for lunch. How would that be, eh?’

  ‘Ooh yes, please.’

  It was the earnest ‘please’ that touched Frank’s heart. He cleared his throat quickly and said firmly, ‘Come on, then.’

  They set off through the crowd together, the broad-shouldered farmer and the little girl who, though almost fourteen looked only eleven or twelve years old. Behind them, Maddie followed, intrigued to see Mrs Potter’s face when confronted by a request that one of her charges, not to mention the infamous Maddie March too, should be asked out to lunch with a gentleman and his family. She turned briefly to tell Michael that she’d be back in a minute or two, but found, to her surprise, that not only he but Harriet and Nick were following in her wake.

  This’ll be good, the girl thought and smiled.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Potter.’ Moments later Frank was raising his hat to the startled matron.

  There was suspicion in her eyes as she eyed the man before her, then, ignoring his greeting, she hissed at the child, ‘Get back where you belong, girl, and don’t let me catch you darting off again. Ain’t I told you about talking to strange men?’

  Maddie stifled her laughter at the indignant look on Frank’s face. ‘My name,’ he said stiffly, ‘is Frank Brackenbury and I believe you know this young lady?’

  He moved aside to reveal Maddie, and the others, standing behind him.

  Mrs Potter’s eyes narrowed. ‘Indeed I do.’ She sniffed and, seeing Harriet too, she nodded. ‘I suppose you want to bring her back to me, eh? Well, there’s no place for her now. She’s too old to come back to the Home. You’ll have to fend for yourself, Maddie March.’ She turned back to face Frank. ‘I’m sorry, sir, if she’s caused you bother, but I can’t say I’m surprised.’

  ‘On the contrary, Mrs Potter, we are delighted to have Maddie live with us.’ He paused and then added quietly, as if unable to resist doing so, ‘I wouldn’t send her back to your orphanage if I was to go bankrupt tomorrow.’

  Mrs Potter had the grace to flush in embarrassment and, flustered, to say, ‘Oh well, sir, I am pleased to hear it. Perhaps all my efforts were worthwhile in the end.’

  With a hint of sarcasm, Frank said, ‘Maybe so, Mrs Potter, maybe so.’ He cleared his throat and said, ‘What I came to ask you was would you allow young Jenny here to have lunch with us? I will bring her back to the Home later, if that would be convenient. In fact,’ he added, as if he had just thought about it, ‘she could go home with us and I would bring her back to you at whatever time you say later this evening.’

  ‘Oh well, now, sir, I don’t know about that.’ Mrs Potter’s mouth pursed primly. ‘We don’t normally let any of our girls go out with strangers.’ But then she appeared to be calculating swiftly in her mind, the girl was coming up to school-leaving age. That very morning she had been turned down for one job. Maybe if Mr Brackenbury was pleased with one of her orphans then . . .? Mrs Potter smiled. ‘But, of course, in your case, sir, since I know Mrs Trowbridge and you have already taken Maddie March, then I don’t see any problem.’

  She turned now and prodded the young girl on the shoulder. ‘You just mind you behave yourself, miss.’

  ‘Yes, Matron,’ Jenny said in her meek voice and slipped her hand into Maddie’s.

  As they moved away from Mrs Potter, Jenny began to skip and chatter. Her excited, piping voice rose above the hubbub around them. ‘Guess what happened last week? Mr Theo Mayfield came to the Home to visit. You know, Sir Peter’s son. We was all called together and he told us that he’s been appointed to the Board of – of – what is it they call them, Maddie?’

  ‘Governors.’

  ‘That’s it. To the Board of Governors. He’s ever so nice, Maddie. Ever so friendly and handsome. Fair curly hair, he’s got. I always used to be a bit frightened of Sir Peter, but I don’t think I will be of Mr Theo. I wish you could see him, Maddie.’

  After they had walked all round the market again and Frank and Michael had stood before two cows for sale, pondering whether to make a bid and then deciding against it, Frank turned and said, ‘It’s too early for dinner yet, but I could murder a cuppa. How about the rest of you?’

  ‘I could do with a sit down, Mr Frank. I can’t stand on me feet any longer.’

  Frank’s eyes twinkled. ‘You should have worn your comfortable shoes, Harriet, not your “Sunday-go-to-meeting” pair that pinch your toes.’ He turned to the younger members of the party. ‘You coming, or do you want to go off by yourselves?’

  ‘We’ll go and have a look at the fair, Dad.’

  ‘Don’t leave these two young lassies on their own, will you now?’

  ‘’Course not,’ Michael said, almost indignantly.

  ‘Right then. We’ll come and find you there.’

  As Frank and Harriet moved away, Michael said, ‘Come on, I’ll buy us all an ice cream each.’

  Now that his mother was out of earshot, Nick was not to be outdone. ‘Fancy a ride on the roundabout?’ he said to Maddie. ‘I’ll treat you.’

  Maddie grinned. ‘You’re on. What about you, Jen?’ But the younger girl hung back. ‘I daresunt. You go, Maddie. I’ll just stand and watch.’

  ‘We’ll watch ’em and laugh at ’em when they fall off, shall we, young’un?’ Michael said to Jenny and put his arm casually about her shoulders.

  Maddie was startled by a sudden strange feeling that stabbed at her. She had never felt this way before, but when she looked at Michael with his arm around Jenny and saw him smiling down at her, she felt such resentment towards Jenny that it fri
ghtened her. And he’d called her ‘young’un’ too, the nickname that Maddie had thought was only for her.

  Nine

  The fair had come to Wellandon, as Frank had said, to the field behind the Black Swan a short distance from the cattle market. Fairground organ music greeted them as they drew near and they could hear the merry laughter and the shrieks from young girls as the handsome, dark-haired young man in charge of the roundabout sent it faster and faster. There were swing boats, dodgem cars, a waltzer, a helter-skelter and even a big wheel, as well as all manner of stalls; hoopla, a coconut shy and a shooting gallery. There was even a gypsy fortune teller in a small striped tent with an elaborate sign that said ‘Madam Pallengro, Palmist and Clairvoyant’.

  ‘Come on, Nick,’ Maddie said deliberately, ‘we’ll show ’em.’

  ‘Let’s go on the Galloping Horses,’ Nick said and held out his hand for her to climb up onto one of the white-painted horses whilst he climbed onto the one next to her. The ride, when it began, not only went round but also up and down and Maddie had not expected the peculiar feeling in her stomach. ‘When it goes down,’ she shouted to Nick above the hubbub, ‘my tummy feels as if I’ve left it up there and then I meet it coming down as I’m going back up.’

  Nick laughed and pretended to be galloping his charger. Faster and faster the music played and faster and faster the world spun around, so that soon the faces of those watching became a whirling blur to Maddie. She began to feel slightly sick and was thankful when the ride slowed and the earth began to regain its rightful shape.

  ‘You all right?’ Nick said as he held up his hand to help her slide down from the horse. ‘You look a bit green.’

  ‘Don’t you dare tell them,’ she muttered.

  ‘They’re round the other side. Let’s go over there,’ Nick suggested, ‘make out we haven’t seen them. Just till you’ve recovered.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Maddie said gratefully and followed Nick towards a shooting gallery, willing her legs to stop feeling quite so wobbly.

  ‘There you are,’ came Michael’s voice.

  Nick turned. ‘Couldn’t see you,’ he lied glibly. ‘We thought you and Jen had gone off together.’

  ‘Not ’til I’ve challenged you to a shooting match. I might just stand a chance of beating you while you’re still dizzy from that roundabout.’ He turned to the two girls. ‘Nick’s a crack shot. Much better than I am.’

  ‘Only ’cos I always get the job of going out to shoot rabbits in the fields or rats when the outside buildings get overrun with them,’ Nick muttered, but Maddie could see that he flushed at Michael’s compliment.

  As they approached the shooting gallery, Nick’s grin widened. ‘It’s a tube shooter. Ah well, you’ve no chance now, Michael Brackenbury.’

  ‘What’s a tube shooter?’ Maddie asked.

  ‘The guns are fired through a tube at the target,’ Michael pointed. ‘Look.’

  On the side of a gaily painted wagon she saw that there were two guns mounted on stands, each pointing down a long metal tube which passed right through the wagon and out the other side.

  ‘It looks like a gypsy caravan,’ Maddie said and Michael laughed. ‘It is – in a way. The chap who owns the gallery lives in the wagon. I saw inside it last year and those tubes run right under his bed.’

  ‘However do they move it all?’

  ‘Like everything else on the fairground, it all comes to pieces and then he packs it all on the top of his wagon and off he goes. I like to come and watch them taking everything down. Talk about “a fine art”. Everyone knows exactly what he’s got to do. It’s a sight to see, I can tell you.’

  Maddie glanced at Nick, who was already moving towards the man collecting the money. She didn’t think she had ever seen him looking so animated, so clearly enjoying himself. When he was smiling happily, he looked a different person to the sullen boy going about his work on the farm under his mother’s watchful eye.

  ‘Go on, Nick,’ she called above the organ music coming from the roundabout, so loud that it dominated the whole fairground and even echoed into the surrounding streets. ‘Win me a prize.’

  He glanced back over his shoulder at her, a look of incredulous delight on his face. ‘Right. I will.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Jen,’ Michael said. ‘I’ll win one for you.’

  Jenny, with a daub of vanilla ice cream on the end of her nose, smiled shyly up at him.

  The girls stood side by side and watched the two boys take up their positions, covering their ears a moment later at the resounding bang, bang, bang from each one.

  ‘They sound like real guns,’ Maddie said when they came back.

  ‘They are,’ Michael said. ‘With real live ammunition.’ He smiled. ‘So don’t go standing near the end of those tubes – just in case!’

  The man was coming towards them with the two cardboard targets in his hand. ‘The one on the left . . .’ He glanced from Michael to Nick, who said, ‘That’s mine.’

  ‘Well, young feller. Bull’s eyes every time.’ He grinned, showing worn, brown-stained teeth. ‘I’ll have to give you a prize.’

  ‘What about me?’ Michael asked.

  The man slapped the target playfully against Michael’s chest. ‘You, son, will have to go away and practise harder. Way off the bull, you were. Every time.’

  ‘Let the lady choose what she wants,’ Nick said and Maddie followed the man to his wagon.

  Sitting on top of a box, resplendent in a blue silk gown edged with lace, was the prettiest doll Maddie had ever seen. Her eyes widened when she saw it and she didn’t even need to speak for the man to reach up for it and then place it in her arms.

  ‘Oh, isn’t it beautiful?’ Jenny breathed when Maddie returned to them.

  ‘Sorry, Jen, I’ll . . .’ Michael began, but at that moment they heard Frank’s voice behind them.

  ‘There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you. Come along now, we’d better go and get that lunch else there’ll be none left.’

  In the dim interior of the White Hart, Frank said, ‘Now, you young ones sit at that table together and we’ll sit over here in this quiet corner. All right, Harriet?’

  As Maddie slid into the bench seat, she noticed the look of concern on Frank’s face as he held out a spindle-backed chair for his housekeeper. Harriet looked pale and her eyes darted nervously about her. She kept the brim of her felt hat pulled low over her forehead and sat with her back to the other diners.

  Maddie shrugged and turned her attention to Jenny, who slid onto the seat beside her, her wide eyes drinking in all the sights around her.

  Jenny reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘This is fun, isn’t it?’

  Maddie nodded as she sat the doll between them and watched as Jenny touched the frilled skirt gently, almost reverently, with her small fingers. ‘Isn’t she lovely?’ Maddie heard her murmur, more to herself than to anyone else.

  Then she looked up and smiled around her, nodding across to where Frank and Harriet sat. ‘Isn’t Mr Brackenbury kind?’

  Michael squeezed himself into the seat opposite Maddie and Nick perched beside him. He seemed almost as ill-at-ease as his mother and kept glancing furtively over his shoulder towards her.

  ‘What about me?’ Michael teased, hearing Jenny’s remark. ‘Aren’t I kind too?’

  Jenny blushed. ‘Oh yes, you’re all very kind. But I mean, him offering for me to join you for dinner. He doesn’t even know me.’

  ‘If you’re a friend of our Maddie’s, then that’s good enough for us,’ Michael said and winked at Maddie. She felt a warm glow suffuse her and felt sure now that Michael was only being friendly towards Jenny for her sake. He was not pushing her out in favour of a new and prettier little face.

  She glanced at her friend. In the short time since Maddie had left the Home, Jenny seemed to have grown and filled out a little. Today, no doubt in honour of the interview with a prospective employer, she had on her Sunday best navy dress and a short blue
jacket. Her hair, though clean, lacked the shine that Maddie’s now had. How Maddie longed to give her friend some of the precious shampoo that Michael had bought for her. Then Jenny’s, too, would be a shining golden halo. And hers would be curly, whereas Maddie’s was straight.

  As if reading her thoughts, Jenny turned to her and said, ‘Your hair’s ever so pretty, Maddie. I like it cut short around your face. And it shines so now.’

  Maddie glanced across the table at Michael. ‘That’s because I can now wash it in some lovely shampoo instead of that awful carbolic, Jen.’

  The younger girl’s eyes were envious as her glance roamed over Maddie’s hair. ‘I wonder if mine would shine like that?’ she murmured.

  The young waitress was standing at the end of their table, notepad in hand. Michael ordered for them all and as the waitress left them again, Jenny stared at Michael and Nick, glancing from one to the other. ‘Are you brothers? You don’t look much alike.’

  ‘No, we’re not related but Nick and his mother have lived with us since we were both babies. We’re like brothers, though, aren’t we, mate?’

  Suddenly, Nick grinned and Maddie marvelled once more at how different he looked. Gone in an instant was the sulky mouth, the resentful look in his eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed, ‘we even fall out like brothers.’

  Michael laughed. ‘That’s very true.’

  Maddie opened her mouth to ask what had happened to Michael’s mother and to Nick’s father but before she could speak, Jenny leant against Maddie’s shoulder and said, ‘Me and Maddie always say we’re sisters. Don’t we?’

  Feeling guilty now about her earlier feelings of jealousy, Maddie nodded.

  ‘Of course, we’re not,’ Jenny went on. ‘We know we’re not, but we like to think we are. Maddie always stuck up for me. The others tease me, you know. Me being small.’

  ‘I know what that’s like,’ Nick said suddenly, but Maddie noticed that he glanced swiftly towards his mother before he spoke and he kept his voice low. ‘The kids at the village school used to tease me and Mam sent me to another school. I had to travel miles on a bus all on my own to get there.’ He paused as the remembered pain flitted across his eyes. ‘I didn’t like it there much either.’