The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  Forty

  At just gone half past four, Steven’s lorry drew into the yard. He climbed down, slammed the door and was calling out as he came across the yard, ‘Maddie? Where are you?’

  She poked her head out of the door of the big barn and shouted, ‘Here. I’m in here. I haven’t got the packing finished yet. Frank’s had to go to the hospital.’

  Steven nodded. ‘I guessed as much. I’ve just passed the ambulance on its way to Wellandon. Here . . .’ He picked up a bundle of raffia and moved to stand beside her. ‘Let me help. A dozen to a bunch, is it?’

  Maddie grinned at him. ‘Baker’s dozen.’

  ‘Tut-tut.’ Steven shook his head. ‘And there I was thinking what a clever business woman you were. Just think how many you’re giving away. For every twelve bunches, you’re giving a whole bunch away.’

  ‘Ah,’ Maddie tapped the side of her nose. ‘But they can’t come back at me then and tell me one of the blooms was too far out or a stalk damaged. We did talk about it, me and Frank,’ her voice shook a little, thinking about the man who had become so dear to her and who at this moment was being admitted to hospital. She should have gone with him. She should be at his side, but the flowers would not wait and they were their livelihood. She knew he would understand. ‘But we decided,’ she went on more strongly, ‘that if we gave a little, we might not get any complaints.’

  ‘And have you had any?’

  ‘Complaints?’ Despite her anxiety, she smiled at him. ‘Not one.’

  A shadow fell across the open doorway of the barn.

  ‘Oh! Hello, I didn’t know you were here.’ Nick’s tone was flat, devoid of any note of welcome.

  ‘Come to lend a helping hand,’ Steven grinned at him. ‘Maddie asked me if I could take the boxes to the station.’

  ‘There was no need. I take them.’

  ‘You’ll have enough to deal with here,’ Maddie put in quickly. ‘Now Frank’s so ill.’

  ‘How do you think I’ve been managing these last weeks and helping look after him?’ There was a barely concealed sneer in Nick’s tone now. ‘It’ll be easier now he is out of the way.’

  ‘Nick . . .!’ Maddie began but swiftly he added, ‘You know what I mean. Now that he’ll be well looked after, we can concentrate on the work. That’s all I meant.’

  Steven had his head down now, concentrating on tying the bunches and laying them carefully in the wooden boxes, but Maddie could see that there was a tightness to his mouth that had not been there before Nick’s appearance.

  ‘These boxes are returnable, aren’t they?’ Steven said, changing the subject.

  ‘Yes. But sometimes we have a job to get them back.’

  For a moment, he appeared to be deep in thought, then he said, ‘I might be able to help you out a bit there . . .’

  ‘I thought you might,’ Nick said, sarcastically. ‘Well, if you’re taking over, I’ll get on with the work in the battery house. Or do you want to have a go at that an’ all?’

  ‘Nick!’ Maddie was suddenly angry, but before she could say more, Steven touched her wrist and said softly, ‘Leave it, Maddie.’

  ‘Steven, I’m so sorry,’ she said, as Nick disappeared across the yard towards the battery house.

  Steven shrugged. ‘Funny lad, isn’t he?’

  Maddie sighed and said softly, ‘Moody, I suppose you’d call it. But with a mother like he’s got and the life she’s made him lead, well . . .’ She said no more, but knew that Steven understood her meaning.

  Frank was in hospital for a week during which time they did all sorts of tests, yet still they could not put a name to the cause of his debilitating illness.

  ‘I’m coming home tomorrow,’ Frank told Maddie on the following Sunday afternoon.

  ‘Have they said you can?’

  ‘No,’ he smiled at her and held up his hand as she began to protest. ‘But I feel so much better and I hate being here. I’ll be better at home.’

  ‘Will they let you come?’

  ‘How are they going to stop me?’

  ‘Oh, Frank, you mustn’t go against the doctor.’

  ‘I won’t, Maddie. But Dr Hanson will be in tomorrow morning. I’ll have a word with him then. Just you bring my clothes tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘I heard Mr Brackenbury was ill. I came to see if you needed any help?’

  Maddie gave a little gasp of surprise at the sound of his voice. Behind her, she had heard the greenhouse door open and gently close, but she had not looked up from picking the tulips.

  ‘Oh, Mr Theo. I’m sorry, I thought it was Nick coming in.’ She stepped towards him down the narrow aisle between the rows of trays on either side of the glasshouse, brushing the earth away from her fingers.

  ‘No, please, don’t let me stop you. I know how important it must be to crop the blooms at just the right time. We can talk as you work. That is . . .’ he hesitated, ‘if I won’t be in your way?’

  ‘Of course you won’t. But I would like to get on. I’ve these to pack for Nick to take to the station and . . .’ she smiled, ‘time’s already running out on me.’

  ‘Then, please, do carry on, Maddie. I’m sorry – Mrs Brackenbury.’

  Maddie laughed as she turned back to her task. ‘Call me Maddie. Everyone does.’

  ‘Thank you. Then you must call me Theo, without the Mister.’

  She glanced briefly over her shoulder at him. ‘I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘Why ever not?’ Then softly, he added, ‘I’d really like you to.’

  ‘Oh – well . . .’ Maddie was unaccountably flustered. To consider calling Sir Peter’s son by his Christian name in such a familiar manner was against all Mrs Potter’s strict rules. And even though she was no longer under the woman’s thumb, the upbringing was hard to leave behind. ‘I’ll try.’

  Whilst Maddie worked, they talked. Theo wanted to know all about Frank’s illness and what was being done. Then Maddie asked, ‘How’s your father?’

  ‘Better, but not better, if you know what I mean. He’s recovered from the stroke as far as he’s going to.’

  Maddie said nothing, but glanced at him enquiringly. She heard him sigh as he said, ‘He’s paralysed and there’s little hope of further improvement.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said with sincerity, although her pity was more for the young man standing beside her than for Sir Peter.

  ‘Yes,’ Theo said quietly. ‘He’s not the . . .’ He hesitated and Maddie had the feeling that he altered what he had been going to say. ‘The man he was.’

  There was a long silence now whilst he watched her work. It was not an uncomfortable silence between them yet Maddie felt obliged to break it. ‘I’m sorry that Mr Frank hasn’t sent you any rent yet. He means to start paying you again this month, with the New Year, but . . .’

  Theo held up his hand. ‘Please, Maddie, don’t even mention it.’ He smiled at her. ‘To tell you the truth, I had forgotten all about it. Our estate bailiff sees to all that and it really hadn’t crossed my mind again.’

  ‘Well, we hadn’t forgotten.’

  ‘No, I know that. But don’t worry about it just now. You’ve enough to cope with.’ He stood idly slapping his riding crop against his legs as he watched her work. ‘These flowers are lovely. You really have done well, Maddie.’

  Maddie gathered together a dozen or so golden blooms and, turning, gave him a wide smile. ‘Please, would you take these for your sister?’

  Embarrassed, he held up his hand, ‘No, no, really, I didn’t mean . . .’

  ‘I know you didn’t,’ she said softly. ‘But please take them to her. I – I know how much she loves them.’

  Their glances met and held and he gave a tiny nod, acknowledging that she understood far more than was being said between them.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly, reaching out for them. There was no need for him to say more except, ‘I’d better be getting along and not hinder you any longer. Give my regards to Mr Brack
enbury.’

  ‘He’s hoping to come home tomorrow.’

  ‘Then I’ll call to see him next week. Goodbye for now, Maddie.’

  ‘Goodbye, Mr Theo, and thank you.’ Somehow she just couldn’t bring herself to drop the ‘Mr’.

  ‘As I said,’ he murmured softly. ‘Don’t mention it.’

  As the sound of his horse’s hooves down the lane died away, Nick came into the greenhouse. ‘What did he want? Come to demand his rent?’

  ‘Exactly the opposite,’ Maddie said tightly. ‘He’d forgotten all about it.’

  ‘Oho, I bet!’ Nick countered sarcastically and went out again, slamming the door so that the glass rattled.

  ‘Mind the . . .’ Maddie shouted after him, but already he was striding across the yard, too far away to hear, so that her voice fell away on the final word, ‘. . . plants.’

  ‘Oh, it’s good to be home.’ Frank gave a deep sigh of satisfaction as he lowered himself into his chair.

  ‘Well, I must say you look better, Mr Frank,’ Harriet fluttered around him, bringing a rug for his knees and prodding the fire into blazing warmth.

  ‘I feel it, Harriet, I’m thankful to say.’

  ‘Have they said what it is?’

  Frank shook his head. ‘No. Some sort of gastroenteritis, they think.’

  ‘Have they given you a special diet . . .?’

  ‘Oh Mam,’ came Nick’s voice. ‘Let the poor man get settled before you start firing questions at him.’ He came and laid his hand on Frank’s shoulder. ‘It is good to have you back, but I’m sorry, I must go and start the generator or we’ll have problems.’

  Frank looked up, suddenly worried. ‘Are you managing all right, Nick?’

  Maddie saw the fleeting flash of resentment in Nick’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant and she hoped that Frank had not noticed it.

  ‘Of course I am,’ he said and smiled so genuinely that Maddie had to admire his self-control. ‘I had a good teacher.’

  Maddie went out to the greenhouse, leaving Harriet to fuss around Frank. There were three more trays ready for cropping and packing.

  ‘Will you be able to take these to the station this evening?’ she asked Nick when he joined her in the greenhouse.

  ‘Sure you don’t want to ask Steven?’

  She glanced at him but he was grinning at her and she smiled back. ‘He was only trying to help and we were a bit pushed that day, Nick.’

  ‘I know. And you’re right.’ He came and stood close to her and, to her surprise, he put his arm around her shoulders. For a moment, she stiffened under his touch. It was what Michael used to do and the memory hurt. Then she relaxed, relieved that Nick seemed prepared to accept outside help now and again.

  Softly, so that Frank would not hear, for they were in the greenhouse attached to the house wall and both Frank and Harriet were only on the other side of the living-room window, Maddie said, ‘We’ll have to have some help come April. This year there’ll be more to cope with than even the three of us can manage. And that’s if Frank’s fully recovered.’

  ‘Oh, he’ll be fine by then,’ Nick said airily. ‘But you’re right. And to be honest, I’d sooner it was Jenny and Steven than complete strangers.’

  There was silence between them for a moment, but still Nick did not remove his arm. ‘Maddie,’ he said slowly. ‘I’ve been thinking that perhaps I should still go to see Michael. Like the doctor said.’

  She looked at him, their faces close together. ‘Why? He’s so much better now. I – I don’t think his life’s in danger now.’ When Nick made no reply, she added, ‘Do you?’

  He sighed before answering. ‘I really don’t know what to think. I just wondered if – if the hospital have found something that they’re not telling us about.’

  ‘They’d tell me, wouldn’t they? As his wife?’

  ‘You’re very young, Maddie. Maybe they wouldn’t tell you. Or me.’

  ‘What about your mother then?’

  She felt him shrug. ‘She’s not his next of kin. Besides, she didn’t even go to visit him in hospital, did she? Actually, that did surprise me, you know. I thought she would have made the effort for Mr Frank.’

  ‘But you think . . .’ Maddie said slowly, beginning to see the reason behind his suggestion. ‘That they would tell his son? They would tell Michael?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  She was thoughtful for some moments, though her hands were still busy picking the flowers. As she moved to reach over, Nick’s arm fell away from her shoulders. His action had surprised her and although his touch had not really bothered her, when his arm was removed, she felt relieved.

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ she said at last. ‘Maybe you should see him again and at least tell him everything that’s happened. I suppose . . .’ The words were difficult to say. ‘It’s only fair.’

  ‘It’s more than he deserves,’ Nick muttered. ‘But I’m thinking of Mr Frank more than – him.’

  ‘Me too,’ Maddie murmured, but in her heart she knew that was not strictly the truth.

  There was no way that they could keep the reason for Nick’s absence for two days a secret from Frank and although he objected at first, Maddie could see that his protests were only half-hearted.

  ‘Now don’t you go sleeping in station waiting rooms again. It’s too cold this time of year,’ his mother insisted, ladening him up with food parcels, not only for Michael this time but enough to sustain Nick for two days, too.

  ‘No, I won’t. I’ll find somewhere I promise. No more, Mam,’ he held up his hand as she tried to stuff yet another parcel into his rucksack. ‘I’m biking to the station. I really can’t carry another thing.’

  Maddie walked with him to the gate. ‘Tell him everything, Nick, won’t you?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Maddie. I’ll sort it out.’

  And he was gone, wobbling down the road on his bicycle and whistling cheerfully.

  Forty-One

  That evening as Maddie was undressing Adam in front of the warm glow from the range, without warning the lights went.

  Harriet, in the kitchen making cocoa, gave a cry of alarm. ‘Oh, the milk! I can’t see – wait a minute, there’s a torch in the table drawer.’

  Maddie sitting perfectly still until her eyes became accustomed to the dim light cast by the fire, heard Harriet scrabbling about. ‘It’s all right,’ came her voice again. ‘I’ve found the torch.’

  Maddie finished undressing Adam and waited until Harriet came into the room, the light from the torch wavering in front of her.

  ‘Will you be all right if I take the torch? I must go and see what’s happened.’

  ‘Don’t you go out there. Mr Frank wouldn’t want you anywhere near his battery house.’

  ‘Mrs Trowbridge, I can’t leave it. The pump will stop and the greenhouses will go cold. I’ll go up and see Frank.’

  Carrying Adam against her left hip, Maddie took the torch and climbed the stairs. Frank was in bed and, because he had already put out the light, he was unaware of any problem.

  ‘Frank, I’m sorry to wake you . . .’

  ‘Mm . . .?’ came his sleepy voice. ‘What is it, love?’

  ‘The lights have all gone out. What do I do? Isn’t there a lever in the battery house that I just put up a notch?’

  ‘Don’t you go in there, Maddie. Let me go.’ He pushed back the bedclothes and began to get out of the bed.

  ‘I can manage it, if you just tell me what to do.’

  ‘No, no. I don’t want you going in the battery house and besides,’ he smiled at the child in her arms, ‘that little chap is dropping to sleep in your arms. You put him to bed. I’ll go and see to things out there. I can’t understand it, though,’ he added as he pulled on his trousers over his pyjamas and tapped his pocket to make sure he had his keys. He slipped his arms into his dressing gown and thrust his feet into his slippers. ‘Nick had the engine running only yesterday. I can’t think what’s happened.’

  He
paused only to light the candle in its pink holder that always stood on the bedroom mantelpiece and then he took the torch from her hands. ‘Can you manage with that light to put him to bed?’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’ He was moving quite strongly out of the bedroom. Maddie, torn between going with Frank, and seeing to her child, said, ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Frank?’

  ‘Yes, yes, love. You see to Adam, bless him.’ He came back and planted a kiss on the sleepy little boy’s head. Then he looked at Maddie, his brown eyes twinkling, his cheeks, though a little thinner just lately, creasing into such a loving, caring smile, that she smiled back at him. Their glance held for a long moment before Frank turned away and headed for the stairs.

  ‘The lights have come back on,’ Harriet greeted Maddie a little time later when at last she came downstairs. Adam, though tired, had taken a long time to settle. ‘But Mr Frank’s not come back in.’

  Maddie stared at her. ‘Not come back in,’ she repeated stupidly. ‘But I thought when the lights came on again, he’d be back in. I just thought he’d stayed down here to have a hot drink . . .’ Her voice faded away.

  ‘He shouldn’t have gone out there in the cold. Couldn’t you have done it?’

  ‘He wouldn’t let me. But I’d better go out and see what’s happening. Listen out for Adam if he starts to cry, won’t you?’

  Harriet’s face positively beamed. ‘Of course I will.’ And though Maddie knew that Harriet would probably find an excuse to climb the stairs and bend over the cot, crooning softly to ‘her little man’, she had no choice but to go out to Frank.

  Whatever could be wrong that was keeping him out in the cold battery house so long?

  Maddie ran to the barn at the side of the house and pulled open the door. Thankfully, he had not closed it behind him, locking her out, for Maddie had no other key. Only Frank, and now Nick, had keys to the battery house. ‘Frank, Frank, where are you?’

  His torch lay on the floor casting an eerie beam of light . . .

  Maddie’s scream echoed around the rafters and a bird, perching in the eaves, flew off in fright. Frank was lying on the floor directly beneath the control panel, his mouth agape, his eyes wide and staring and she knew without even touching him that he was dead.