The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  Tears blurred Maddie’s vision and though she would not allow them to fall, her heart went out to the lonely, distressed figure of the woman who had mourned her lost love for so long.

  As long as, deep in her heart, Maddie would mourn for hers.

  ‘Making up to him, smiling at him and before poor Mr Frank was cold in his grave. I saw you.’

  It hadn’t taken Harriet long to resume her goading.

  ‘Mam, give it a rest,’ Nick frowned at his mother, standing up to her more boldly than Maddie could remember.

  ‘Trying to get round him to give her the tenancy to this place, I shouldn’t wonder. Oh, but you’ve another think coming, girl, if you think that’s ever going to happen. My Nick has more right than you ever did—’

  Bluntly, Maddie interrupted. ‘It already has.’

  ‘What? What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s already happened. Mr Theo told me at the funeral. He’s going to draw up a new document, all legal, with me as the sole tenant.’

  With that Maddie turned and left the house, but not before she had seen the look of pure hatred in Harriet’s eyes.

  But what disturbed her the most was to see that same look mirrored for a fleeting, unguarded moment, in Nick’s eyes, too.

  Forty-Three

  ‘I suppose,’ Harriet said, sitting down at the supper table, ‘it would be too much to ask that you and Nicholas should have joint tenancy of the farm?’

  ‘Oh, Mam,’ he said at once. ‘Don’t spoil it for Maddie. It’s a wonderful opportunity for her, especially with her background.’

  Maddie glanced at him, stung to retort, but the words died on her lips as he added hastily, ‘Well, you know what I mean. But you deserve it, Maddie. It was your idea and you’ve worked as hard as any of us. You have to admit, Mam, that her idea has worked.’

  Maddie saw Harriet’s glance and heard her sniff of disapproval, but now, she said nothing.

  Nick was smiling broadly, his whole face alight, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. There was not a trace of the bitter resentment Maddie thought she had seen earlier.

  ‘No, you have the tenancy, Maddie,’ he said and added, jokingly touching his forelock, ‘but I would like to continue working for you, ma’am.’

  Thankful for his change of heart, Maddie laughed. ‘I couldn’t manage without you, Nick.’ Then, summoning up all her reserves of forgiveness and understanding, Maddie turned to Harriet and added, ‘Nor you, Mrs Trowbridge.’

  Theo Mayfield was as good as his word and he brought all the official papers to Few Farm himself for Maddie to sign. When everything was settled, he smiled at her and said, ‘Now, you shall be the first to know my bit of news.’

  Maddie’s eyes widened. He must be getting married. And the thought came unbidden, Oh what a lucky girl whoever she was, to have Theo as her husband. So sure was she that this was what he was about to tell her, that it took a few moments for her to take in what he was actually saying.

  ‘Although I’ve taken over the running of the estate since my father’s illness, there is so little for me to do. The estate bailiff has been with us for years . . .’ He pulled a comical face. ‘To tell you the truth, Maddie, he knows more about running things than I do. So . . .’ he was smiling so happily, his eyes dancing, ‘I’m setting up my own solicitor’s practice in Wellandon. You probably didn’t know that I went to university to study law. I’d got my law degree and had even done the necessary practice with a law firm in Peterborough, but then my father fell ill and . . .’ He spread his hands. ‘Well, you know the rest. But this . . .’ he indicated the papers she had just signed, ‘is the first legal tenancy agreement I’ve drawn up as a fully-fledged solicitor. You, Maddie, are my first client.’

  She rose from the table. ‘Then I think we should drink to that, Mr Theo, even if it is only with Mrs Trowbridge’s elderflower wine.’

  She fetched glasses and the decanter from the sideboard. Pouring a little of the clear liquid into each glass she held hers up and looked at him. ‘A toast to – to . . .’ Then she laughed. ‘Oh, I don’t know the name of your firm.’

  ‘It’s to be a partnership. Mayfield and Crouch. Tom Crouch was with me at the firm in Peterborough. He’s a great character and couldn’t wait to come in with me.’

  ‘Then here’s to your success, Mr Theo. To Mayfield and Crouch.’

  He echoed her words and then added, ‘And to you, Maddie, as the new and legal tenant of Few Farm. Here’s to you.’

  They settled to a new routine, uneasily at first, but as the years passed and Maddie made no move to oust Harriet Trowbridge or her son from Few Farm, their lives together continued. Adam grew sturdy and strong and became the apple of Harriet’s eye. It seemed as if, robbed of Frank to fuss over, the woman needed an outlet for her strange, doting affection. Maddie herself never expected – nor got – any kindness or even friendliness from the woman. What puzzled her, though, was why Harriet never lavished love on her own son. She was possessive towards Nick and still tried to rule his life, yet Maddie had never once seen her even touch him. She never kissed him, never hugged him nor even patted his shoulder. But now, she positively drooled over little Adam, until the growing child himself began to squirm away from her clinging hands and wet kisses. Maybe it was because, Maddie thought pensively, with each day Adam grew, heart-achingly, more and more like Michael.

  Funny woman, Maddie would shake her head sometimes. But at least she had no fear now that the housekeeper would ever harm the child out of spite against his mother.

  Towards the end of 1949, Nick was called up to do his National Service but arrived home after only the first week. ‘I’ve failed me medical.’

  ‘What?’ Harriet’s eyes, for once, had been wide with fear.

  Nick had laughed and put his arm about her shoulders. ‘It’s all right, Mam. I’m not going to drop dead. But the doctor just said I wasn’t A1 and it’s enough to exempt me.’

  ‘So, you mean you haven’t got to go away at all?’

  Nick’s grin widened. ‘That’s about the size of it, Mam.’

  ‘Well, thank goodness for that,’ Harriet had said. But even then, Maddie remembered, she had not hugged her son, nor even made any further enquiries as to the details of his health problem. And Nick, she noticed, did not volunteer the information either.

  Only she, Maddie, had said later, ‘It’s nothing serious, is it, Nick?’

  ‘Oh no,’ he had smiled, but for the moment no longer flicked back his hair. That had been cut to Army regulation shortness. ‘No, I’m still fit enough to work, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  ‘Well, of course it is.’ But she said the words playfully so that Nick would know that she was genuinely concerned about him.

  Steven did go to do his National Service, but every leave he rushed home to be with Jenny.

  ‘Why on earth don’t you put that poor lad out of his misery and marry him?’ Maddie said, exasperated. ‘He absolutely adores you. Who’d have thought it? Stinky Smith in love.’

  ‘Oh Maddie,’ Jenny had smiled and, for once, had not reprimanded her friend for the use of the nickname. ‘I do like him a lot. In a way, I love him, but . . .’

  ‘But you’re still hankering after Nick.’

  Easy tears filling her eyes, Jenny nodded as she whispered, ‘I’ve loved Nick from that first time I came to the farm. Can you remember?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Maddie murmured, feeling guilty at the memory. ‘And I thought you were after Michael.’

  ‘Michael!’ Jenny’s eyes were large. ‘Whatever made you think that?’

  ‘He was kind to you. Bought you some shampoo. Just like he had for me. I – I thought he liked you. I was jealous.’

  ‘You? Jealous of me? Oh Maddie, how could you even think he’d look at me when you were around? I could see even then how it was between you.’ Her face sobered. ‘How I wish it could have been different for you.’

  They stared at each other. Softly, Maddie said, ‘Me too.’<
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  ‘For God’s sake stop going on about her.’

  They were working side by side in the field. Nick stood up suddenly, towering over Maddie who was bending down, carefully placing the bulbs in rows in the ground. ‘I don’t like her,’ he said harshly. ‘I never have. You can tell her so. Tell her to marry Steven Smith.’

  Slowly, Maddie stood up and faced him, staring open-mouthed at his outburst. She had broached the subject, trying to sound him out once and for all so that she could help Jenny make up her mind. But she had not expected such a vehement, passionate denial. But at his next words, she began to understand.

  ‘There’s only one girl I’ve ever wanted. You. But you had to go and fall for Michael and all his smooth talk, didn’t you? What chance did I have against him? And then, to make it worse, when he left you, you had to go and marry his dad. You couldn’t wait, could you, for me to grow up? I’d have married you, Maddie, whatever me Mam said. I’d have loved you and looked after you. Aye, and Michael’s bastard too. I’d have put up with him, too, if I could have had you.’

  He flung the basket of bulbs on the ground so that they spilled out and rolled in all directions and stamped off, his boots leaving deep footprints in the soft earth.

  Perplexed, Maddie stared after him.

  For the rest of the day, Nick avoided her and Maddie was grateful. She needed to think. His outburst had shocked her. She had never thought, never dreamt for one moment, that Nick felt like that about her. But then, she reminded herself, she had been so wrapped up in Michael from the first moment she had set eyes on him that she had never given a thought to Nick. And after Michael had left, she was so devastated that she had allowed herself to be talked into marriage with Frank. Not that she regretted that, she told herself hastily. Frank had been a good man, a caring husband and father to Adam. But now Frank’s protection was gone. And she must face the fact that Nick might believe she would turn to him now. Surely, she reasoned, he was only imagining his feelings for her. He hardly met any other girls, thanks to his mother. So it was only natural that the adolescent boy – who was now a man, she reminded herself sharply – had imagined himself fond of her. There was Jenny, of course, who had worn her heart so openly on her sleeve, but whom he had rejected. She sighed. Oh, why did life have to be so complicated?

  Later, she told Jenny what had happened. ‘I’m sorry if it hurts you, love, but you’ve got to know. Don’t waste your life pining for him.’

  Jenny sighed heavily. ‘I suppose part of me knows that already. But I didn’t want to be unfair to Steven, sort of treating him as second best. You know?’

  Maddie nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. For her, anyone and everyone would always be second best to Michael.

  Jenny smiled tremulously and pulled in a deep breath. ‘Well, I’ve a lot of thinking to do. Besides, we may be jumping the gun. Steven hasn’t actually asked me yet.’

  Now Maddie laughed. ‘He will, oh he will, Jen. As sure as the sun will rise in the east tomorrow morning.’

  The next time they met – over the supper table – Nick did not refer to his earlier outburst at all. Maddie was surprised, but relieved. Instead, he chattered on about the day’s work and planned the following day’s jobs with Maddie nodding approval. Mentally, she crossed her fingers that his earlier outpouring would not be repeated.

  As the seasons came and went, the whole district around Wellandon flourished and became renowned for its bulb growing. From the first tentative idea, ‘Tulip Week’ grew just like the flowers themselves and stretched over three weekends. Every year more and more sightseers followed the planned route around the fields. A Tulip Queen, chosen from the young girls who worked in the industry, toured the fields on the three Sundays, dressed in a long gown with a velvet cape and a crown upon her head.

  Six years after Few Farm had, in desperation, turned to horticulture, Nick was able to say, ‘I’ve counted at least twenty buses down our lane today and as for the number of cars, well, I just lost count of those. And we’ve sold all the flowers that were on the stall at the field gate.’

  ‘Really? That’s brilliant. But they were the last of what we’ve got available to sell as cut flowers this year. We must knob the rest.’

  Nick nodded agreement. ‘I know and we ought to start that tomorrow.’

  ‘We must,’ Maddie said firmly. ‘And this year, Adam is old enough to help.’

  Suddenly, for no reason that she could think of, Nick said, ‘Time that lad had a proper father again. When are you going to marry me, Maddie?’

  His words startled her. From the day he had first told her of his feelings, he had never again mentioned them and as the months and years had passed, she had begun to believe that the boyish infatuation had withered.

  Now, standing before her, was the man he had become. He still wore spectacles and his hair still flopped forward, to be flicked back every now and again with a quick toss of his head. But he had filled out. His shoulders were broader, his body lithe and strong and although he would never have the striking good looks of Michael, or even of Theo Mayfield, nevertheless, when he smiled, his face had a cheeky, boyish charm.

  Maddie pulled in a deep breath and tried to make light of his question. Even she wasn’t sure if it was even intended to be serious. ‘Well, not this week, Nick. We’re too busy.’

  ‘Yes,’ Nick said slowly, but now he was no longer smiling. ‘That’s what I thought you’d say.’

  ‘I don’t know how we’d have done it without you.’ Maddie put her arms around Adam’s shoulders, but her words included not only her son, but Jenny and Steven too. ‘We’ve had a bumper crop this year and without you all helping to head and now lift them, I think we’d have lost some.’

  It was a warm evening in June and the five of them were walking back towards the farmhouse, all hoping that Harriet had prepared what would for them amount to a harvest supper.

  ‘The only thing that upsets me,’ Steven said, ‘is when we headed them back in April there was nothing we could do with the discarded heads. Just a huge mound of glorious colour dumped in the corner of the field. Such a waste.’

  Maddie laughed. ‘Can’t you think of a way to make a bob or two out of them?’

  ‘We-ell, I have got something in mind.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Ah,’ he tapped the side of his nose. ‘Now you just wait and see. The Mad March Hare’s not the only one who can come up with brilliant ideas, you know.’

  ‘Go on then, Stinky,’ she nudged him playfully. ‘Prove it.’

  ‘I will,’ he promised, a serious note now beneath the banter. ‘Oh, I will.’

  Forty-Four

  ‘Over my dead body.’

  As Maddie came in the back door and took off her boots in the wash-house, she could hear Harriet’s voice raised hysterically.

  ‘You’ll not marry that slut while there’s breath in my body, Nicholas. It’s bad enough that we have to live here under her sufferance . . .’

  Maddie slipped her shoes on and opened the door into the kitchen. They were facing each other across the kitchen table and Harriet, in the midst of rolling out pastry, was shaking her rolling pin at Nick.

  ‘What on earth’s going on?’ Maddie demanded and they both turned to look at her. Harriet lunged towards her, arm raised, and Maddie flinched beneath the expected blow and raised her arm to protect her head. But Nick moved quicker than either of them and grasped his mother to pull her away.

  ‘No!’ he shouted. ‘You’ll not lay a finger on Maddie. You hear me?’

  Maddie was shocked by the stricken look on the woman’s face and, despite the threat, she was moved to feel sorry for her. Now Harriet sagged against Nick in defeat and would have fallen to the floor if he had not held her upright, his arm about her waist. Her arms hung down limply now and the rolling pin clattered to the floor.

  Nick almost dragged her into the living room and pushed her roughly into a chair. Then he stood over her. He opened his mouth but at that moment the
y heard Adam’s footsteps clattering down the stairs, his merry voice calling as he opened the door into the room. ‘Mrs T, Mrs T, are you going to make gingerbread men for tea?’

  Then he stopped abruptly when he saw that all was not as normal.

  ‘What is it? Are you poorly, Mrs T?’ He came to her and put his hand on her arm and smiled that same engaging smile that had once been Michael’s. His brown eyes were full of a concern that was strangely adult in the eight – almost nine – year old. Harriet drew him to her and held him fiercely. For once, sensing her distress, he submitted to her embrace without protest. Above his head, Harriet regarded her own son with bitterness.

  ‘At least,’ she said, ‘this little chap loves me.’

  ‘There’s no call to talk like that, Mam,’ Nick was more composed now, but his tone was still tight with anger. ‘Just calm yourself down and forget all about what I said. Besides . . .’ he gave a quick, sideways glance at Maddie. ‘Nothing’s been settled yet.’

  ‘And it’d better not be,’ Harriet said and her resentful gaze was now turned upon Maddie.

  ‘What’s been happening?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing, Maddie. Leave it. It’s best left.’ And then, in a voice so low that his mother could not hear, he said, ‘For now, at least.’

  He turned and slammed his way out of the house before Maddie could make her feelings known. For once, she was in full agreement with Harriet. If what she thought had been said was true, then she too would have said, ‘Over my dead body.’

  ‘Maddie, Maddie. Where are you? I’ve got something to tell you.’

  Jenny was calling out as soon as she stepped into the house and then the door into the kitchen was flung open. ‘You’ll never guess . . .’ she began and then stopped short as she saw Maddie carefully placing a tiny candle on the cake she had been decorating.