The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘Or better,’ Maddie said, ‘depending on how you look at it. We’ll be even busier when the flowers and bulbs are ready for picking.’

  ‘I could come and help when Mrs Grange doesn’t need me,’ Jenny offered.

  ‘You’re on,’ Michael said, ‘come next spring, we’ll need all the help we can get.’

  They saw Jenny safely to the back door of the shop and then Michael and Maddie retraced their steps down the lane. They walked side by side, not touching, until they left the outskirts of the village and Maddie felt Michael reach for her hand. They walked along, not speaking, just content to be together, hand in hand, until they came almost to the farm gateway. Behind the shelter of the hedge and hidden from the farmhouse, Michael stopped in the middle of the lane and took her in his arms.

  ‘Oh Maddie, how long I’ve had to wait for you to grow up and there I was not even realizing you’d had another birthday.’

  Maddie buried her face against his neck, winding her arms about him. She could feel the beat of his heart even through his clothes. It matched the beat of her own. He was kissing her face, her forehead, the tip of her nose and then his lips sought her mouth. ‘Oh Maddie,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘I want you so.’

  ‘Come on,’ he said at last, taking her hand. They crept into the yard and without protest she allowed him to lead her to the hay shed. He began to kiss her in earnest, pressing her down into the soft hay. Then his fingers were searching beneath her clothing and she quivered as his cold hand found the warmth of her breast.

  ‘Maddie, oh Maddie,’ he breathed and then they were lost in the wonder of discovery of each other. Lost to time and place. Lost to sense and reason.

  As Michael lay on top of her and gently, lovingly, made her his own, the whole world exploded into golden light. It was like a summer’s day and they were lying amidst a rainbow field of tulips, the sun bright and warm and shining down benignly upon their love.

  Twenty-Six

  The work was even harder than any of them had imagined and what they would have done without Bill Randall’s practical help and advice, Maddie could not think. Not only had he already lent them his concrete mixer and his wooden-framed plough to prepare the ground, but he obtained their very first supply of bulbs.

  The day after the party, Bill’s old truck rattled into the yard at Few Farm. Climbing down from the driver’s seat he called out cheerfully to Maddie. ‘I thought you might be able to make use of this little lot, mate.’

  When she went to the back of the truck and saw pallet after pallet stacked high and every one filled with bulbs, her mouth dropped open.

  ‘It’s not easy for someone just starting,’ Bill said, ‘but I’ve spoken to one or two mates and we’re all chipping in with some stock for you.’

  Maddie felt a lump in her throat. Funny, she thought, I only want to cry when someone does something so unexpected and so kind for me.

  ‘It’s very good of you,’ Maddie said, her eyes sparkling.

  ‘There’s different varieties but I’ve put labels on them, mate, to show you which is which. There’s Clara Butt, that’s a pretty pink, Inglescombe Yellow and Bartigon Red. Then there’s Rose Copland, another pink, and William Copland, that’s purple. Now,’ he pointed to three trays, each marked with a black cross. ‘These have been in my cold store since the beginning of August. They’re the ones for forcing in your greenhouse and they ought to be planted now in boxes, like I told you, ready to bring into your glasshouse at the right time. They’re different colours, an’ all.’

  ‘Our very own rainbow,’ Maddie murmured.

  ‘Eh? What did you say, mate?’

  She smiled at him. ‘Oh nothing, Mr Randall. Thank you so much for all these. What do we owe you?’

  ‘Don’t worry your pretty head about that just now, mate. We’ll wait for our money. We know Frank of old. He’ll pay us when he can. We all know that. Oh, and I’ve brought you these.’ He picked up a small cardboard box. ‘A few very special bulbs just for you. They’re called Keizerskroon and they’re red with yellow edges. Very pretty, they are.’

  Now the tears spilled over and Maddie wiped them away hastily and smiled up at the big man. ‘I don’t know how to begin to thank you, Mr Randall.’

  He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Think nowt on it, mate. Think nowt on it.’

  But Maddie thought a great deal of it.

  ‘By heck, we’re going to be busy planting this lot,’ Frank said, scratching his head when he saw the bulbs, but Maddie only grinned. Already in her mind’s eye she could see the waving tulips in full bloom.

  ‘Then we’d best get cracking.’

  ‘Well, yes, I agree. But what do we actually have to do?’

  ‘Mr Randall said there’s only enough here to plant a few acres for our first year, but because we’ve already got Mr Taylor’s say-so, we can increase the acreage as soon as we can.’

  ‘Maybe Mr Theo could help us,’ Michael put in.

  ‘Oh, I don’t like to ask him,’ Frank shook his head. ‘He’s been so good already.’

  ‘We’ll send Maddie,’ Michael laughed, winking at her. ‘I think he’s a bit sweet on our Maddie.’

  ‘We’ve enough to be going on with here, at the moment,’ Maddie said, though she was laughing along with Michael, not even thinking that his suggestion might be serious. ‘And the rest of the land we can use for potatoes or caulis.’

  ‘Ah well, now I do know about growing them, but I have to admit, lass, I’m a bit lost with these flowers.’

  ‘We need to start planting now,’ Maddie told him. ‘Mr Randall says the usual way is to plant them in rows, leaving every seventh row empty.’

  ‘Why?’ Nick asked suddenly. He had been standing listening to the conversation but until this moment had not joined in.

  ‘To walk along for hoeing the weeds out and later for the picking.’

  Frank and Michael nodded.

  ‘What about the greenhouses? Do we plant some in there?’

  Maddie shook her head. ‘No. You only bring them into the greenhouse roughly a month before you want them to flower, though the time depends a bit on the different varieties. Take the Rose Copland, say you want that to flower say for Christmas, then you’d bring it into the greenhouse a month before.’

  ‘What about the temperature?’ Frank asked. ‘We’ll have to mind to get that right, won’t we?’

  ‘For the first week you keep it very moderate and then increase it to about sixty-five degrees.’

  ‘Sounds easy,’ Michael said, ‘but I wonder if it’s going to be.’

  ‘We’ll make it work,’ Maddie said and she saw Frank and Michael exchange a smile.

  ‘But what do we do with them ’til then?’ Nick asked. ‘Just leave them like this?’

  ‘No. We plant them out first . . .’

  ‘In the field? You mean we have to plant them out and then dig them all up again to bring in? That sounds like a lot of unnecessary work . . .’

  ‘No, no. We put them in boxes. Look, like this one. Mr Randall brought a couple to start us off. He couldn’t spare any more so we’ll have to get some more from somewhere.’ Maddie pointed to a wooden box approximately twenty-four inches by fifteen. ‘You put them in these, well spaced, and then cover them thinly with soil and bring them into the glasshouse at the right time.’

  There was a silence as the menfolk took it all in.

  ‘Where do we put them until then?’

  ‘In the field but I should think as near to the yard as possible. After all, we’ve got to carry them to the glasshouses, haven’t we? How about in a row along the hedge side?’

  ‘Sounds sensible,’ Michael murmured.

  Frank glanced at Nick. ‘How’s the trench coming along for the pipes from the boiler house to the first glasshouse?’

  ‘All right. I should get it finished today.’

  ‘I’ll go into Wellandon to see a chap I know about the heating pipes,’ Frank said. ‘And I’ll see about some more
boxes, love.’

  ‘And we’ll get started with the planting, shall we, Maddie?’ Michael said. ‘I’ll go and harness Rajah.’

  The following morning when they were all seated at the breakfast table, Frank said, ‘You know, it’s not going to be an easy task to monitor the temperature in the glasshouses. I’ve been thinking about it and, Nick, since you like dealing with engines and mechanical things, how about I teach you all about the battery house and the boiler house and between us we’ll look after the heating system for the greenhouses. Maybe we can think about a pump, like Bill Randall suggested.’

  ‘And a thermostat,’ Nick joined in and Maddie noticed the sudden spark in his eyes. Frank nodded and jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the greenhouse that Mr Theo had given them. It had been built on to the side of the house and now covered the window of the living room. ‘In fact, I’d like to know what you think about this greenhouse. How do you think we should heat it? I was wondering about running pipes from the boiler in the kitchen.’

  ‘What? Dig up my floors?’ Harriet said indignantly.

  ‘No. We’d come through the wall from the kitchen there,’ Frank pointed to the corner near the ceiling. ‘And run them along just under the ceiling and out there . . .’ Now he pointed to the corner near the outer wall. ‘. . . and into the greenhouse. What do you think, Nick? Of course, you’d still have to help with the field work, but what do you say to learning how to handle that side of things?’

  Maddie didn’t think she had ever seen such pleasure light the young boy’s face. But before he could answer, his mother cut in, ‘I don’t want Nicholas meddling with anything dangerous, Mr Frank. You’ve always kept the boys out of your battery house.’

  Frank sighed but this time he looked at Harriet down the length of the table. ‘They’re hardly boys now, Harriet, either of them. And I’ve already shown Michael quite a lot about how things work. Nick’s sixteen in a week or so and if his interest lies in the direction of things mechanical, then it’s up to us to help him learn all he can. After all, maybe he won’t want to stay at Few Farm all his life . . .’

  ‘He’ll do as I tell him,’ she snapped and Maddie glanced at Nick in sympathy. No wonder he always seemed to have a sulky twist to this mouth. To Maddie’s surprise there was a sudden flash in the boy’s eyes as he turned to his mother.

  ‘Mr Frank won’t let me get into any danger and I’ll always do exactly as he tells me.’ Without waiting for her answer, Nick turned towards Frank. ‘I’d like that very much, Mr Frank. Thank you.’

  Harriet said no more but her face turned red with a rage she could hardly suppress.

  ‘Good old Nick,’ Michael said later as they snatched a few brief precious moments. ‘I never thought I’d see him stand up to her like that.’

  ‘Where’s he gone now? I saw him going out of the gate after breakfast.’

  ‘He’s taken Dad’s gun on a walk around the fields.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Rabbits. They’ll nibble anything and everything if we don’t keep them down.’

  ‘I’m surprised his mother lets him have hold of a dangerous thing like a gun.’

  Michael winked at her and put his finger to his lips. ‘She doesn’t know, so not a word. All right?’

  Maddie nodded.

  Michael sighed and kissed her forehead briefly, ‘Well, we’d better get on with the work. Come on, Tulip.’

  The autumn passed in a haze of hard work and loving Michael. Their times together were brief and snatched but all the more precious and exciting. Then came the day they were all waiting for – the first of the trays to bloom in the glasshouse. It was Nick, out early in the morning two days before Christmas Eve to check the temperature, who came rushing into the house.

  ‘Come and look. Quick!’

  ‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Maddie cried, but he had raced off again without further explanation.

  ‘Oh, don’t say . . .’ Michael was already out of the door, following him, whilst Maddie, still struggling to pull on her Wellingtons, shouted, ‘Wait for me. Michael, wait.’

  When she arrived at the door of the first greenhouse it was to see Michael and Nick just standing drinking in the sight of a tray of pink tulips that had burst into flower. Silently, Michael held out his hand to her and she moved slowly towards him, taking his hand but her gaze was on the beautiful flowers.

  ‘We’ve done it,’ he whispered and his voice was hoarse. ‘We’ve really done it. Isn’t that the loveliest sight?’

  Maddie nodded, unable to speak. Since she had first seen the heart-shaped bed of golden tulips deep in the woods and then Mr Randall’s rainbow field, as she always called it, she had dreamt of such a moment. True, it was only one tray of the flowers, but Maddie could not have felt prouder if it had been fifty acres.

  And one day, she vowed, it would be.

  Whilst Nick had been put in charge of the heating and Maddie had undertaken the day-to-day care of the bulbs, Michael had been the one to organize the selling of the blooms once they were ready. Already he had a buyer waiting in London and transport would be by train from Wellandon Station.

  ‘Right,’ he said now, breaking their trance. ‘I’ll get the boxes and we’ll get these packed now. Then I’ll take them to the station for the night train.’

  ‘If they’re not going until tonight, Michael,’ Maddie said, thoughtfully, ‘I think we should leave picking them until as late as possible. Mr Randall said we should pick early in the morning or late at night. I know that’s right for the fields, but I suppose the same applies to the blooms in here.’ She glanced at him. ‘Doesn’t it?’

  Michael wrinkled his forehead. ‘Well, I would have thought that now they’re just coming out they don’t want to be left much longer in the heat. We don’t want them too far out, do we?’

  Maddie bit her lip worriedly. ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘I don’t think just the rest of today will hurt.’ Nick shrugged his shoulders. ‘Let’s face it, we’re going to have to learn by our own mistakes a bit at first, aren’t we? I mean Bill Randall can’t tell us everything. We’ve got to stand on our own feet.’

  Maddie and Michael exchanged an amused glance. Nick was right, they had to agree, but such a statement coming from the boy whose mother ruled his every waking moment made them want to laugh.

  ‘You’ve got a point there,’ Michael put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. ‘So what do we do? Pick ’em and pack ’em now or wait ’til tonight?’

  ‘Pick half of them now and the other half tonight and let’s see for ourselves if it makes any difference,’ Nick suggested.

  Michael laughed. ‘You’re full of bright ideas this morning. That’s exactly what we’ll do, but we must get them to the station by six o’clock at the latest. At tulip time, you know, Wellandon handles hundreds of boxes every night. Before the War it was thousands and the number is building up again as more and more flower growers are turning away from food production as soon as they’re allowed. Of course, there won’t be that many this time of the year, but I don’t want ours to get left aside in favour of the regular growers.’ He bit his lip. ‘I think I’ll drive into town this morning, just to make sure that everything’s all right for this first consignment. After that, it should be plain sailing.’

  Through the day, Maddie picked all the flowers that were ready, laying them carefully in the wooden boxes in neat bunches. ‘I’m coming with you,’ she informed Michael as she helped him load the boxes into the boot of Frank’s car. ‘I want to see this first lot on their way for myself.’

  ‘Don’t you trust me with your precious tulips?’

  She grinned at him, ‘Of course I don’t. You might decide to give them away to all your girlfriends in the village.’

  Michael’s dark eyes sparkled with fun. ‘And when have I had time to see any girlfriends the last few weeks? Besides . . .’ Now the look in his eyes was serious. ‘The only girl I want is right here with me all the time.’


  He reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. ‘Come on, let’s go and sell your flowers.’

  ‘Our flowers,’ she corrected him as she climbed into the passenger’s seat beside him. ‘Everyone deserves the credit. Even . . .’ she smiled impishly at him, ‘even Mrs Trowbridge.’

  ‘Oho,’ Michael laughed. ‘Now it really hurt you to say that, didn’t it?’

  Maddie said no more; she didn’t need to.

  It was dusk when they returned to the farm.

  ‘Well, Tulip, that’s the first safely away and we’re still living up to our name,’ Michael said as he got out of the car and stood in the yard.

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Few Farm. Only now it’s a few ’taties, a few caulis and a few tulips.’

  ‘Oh you!’ Laughing Maddie pushed Michael on the shoulder and, playfully, he caught hold of her hands, pulling her close to him, his dark brown eyes looking down into hers. The longing flared between them and suddenly the smile faded from Michael’s eyes. She felt as if the breath had been knocked from her body as she looked up at him, her lips slightly apart. For a brief moment they were lost in a world of their own until Harriet’s voice from the back doorway made them both jump and spring apart.

  ‘Your supper’s ready.’

  When Maddie turned to walk towards the housekeeper, it was to see the look of pure hatred on the woman’s face. For some time Harriet must have suspected that there was something between her favourite and the orphan girl she had brought into the house.

  Now she had seen it for herself and knew for certain.

  Twenty-Seven

  It was in the January, when the blooms in the glasshouse were at their most delicate stage, that Maddie began to feel unwell.

  Carrying another heavy tray in from the field to the second glasshouse, she felt suddenly dizzy and before she realized what was happening she had dropped the box and was pitching forward, the ground coming up to meet her.

  ‘Maddie! Maddie, what is it?’

  She heard Frank’s anxious shout from behind her. She was trying to rise as he reached her.