Candles in the Storm

by Rita Bradshaw

  Once in the hall the girls looked at each other before Daisy said, ‘She took that well then, lass,’ and they both began to shake with laughter born of reaction.

  ‘By, lass.’ Kitty shook her head once they’d calmed down. ‘I shan’t be sorry to leave here and you’re the only one I’ll miss.’ And then she grinned. ‘Well, you an’ me mam’s dressed crab. There’s not another soul alive who does dressed crab like me mam - but then she’s got a head start, bein’ so crabby herself.’

  ‘Oh, Kitty.’ The two girls were holding on to each other now, trying to stifle their laughter in case it woke Miss Wilhelmina as they climbed the stairs. The landing was almost in pitch blackness but they could have found the small table holding the candles in their tin holders blindfolded. Once the candles were lit Daisy and Kitty opened the green baize door and passed through to the servants’ landing, and it was there that Kitty said, ‘Alf said if I had any trouble from me mam when I told her about us not to stand any nonsense. He wants me to go and stay with him an’ his mam till we’re wed. But, well, it’ll mean you being here with me mam an’ da on your own.’

  Daisy stared at the plump little face lit by the flickering candle. ‘Alf’s right, lass. Your mam’ll make your life a misery for as long as you stay. When would you go?’

  ‘Straightaway, I suppose, in the mornin’. I thought I’d nip along an’ see the mistress an’ explain everythin’ first.’

  Daisy nodded. ‘You tell her word for word what your mam said, Kitty. All right? Word for word so she understands the position you’re in. Your mam would do anything she could to stop you and Alf being together so don’t give her the chance. Once you’re with Alf and Mrs Hardy, her hands are tied.’

  ‘Aye, that’s how I feel about it.’ Kitty looked at her. ‘But I’ll miss you, lass.’

  ‘Not as much as I’ll miss you.’

  They stared at each other for a moment and it was Daisy who said, ‘By, lass, the changes a day can bring!’ whereupon they both started giggling again but without really knowing why.

  Kitty’s announcement the next day and subsequent departure barely registered on Wilhelmina. Augustus arrived at Evenley House early in the morning and he had news of William.

  Daisy stayed with her mistress while Augustus told his sister about the arrival of Marcel some hours before. He had left his name and address with umpteen folk during his quest to find out what had happened to his cousin, and one of these had turned up trumps. A doctor from an infirmary close to the port at Calais, who had unfortunately been away for a few weeks, had been told of the young Frenchman’s search on his return to work and had contacted Marcel at Claude and Lydia’s house in Paris. He remembered a man being brought in by the dockside police around the time in question, he’d told them, but doubted if it was the young Englishman they were looking for. He had been thought to be the casualty of a fight between two rival smuggling rings and had been more dead than alive. Beaten within an inch of death, but then that’s what these animals were like. Anyway, the man had been taken to another infirmary almost immediately; he could give them the name of that if they liked?

  ‘It’s William, I’m afraid.’ Augustus’s face was white. ‘Claude and Marcel went to the infirmary in Lievin. William has been there seven weeks but for the first six was in a very bad state. Even now he cannot talk much and is only just remembering who he is. He wasn’t expected to pull through, apparently, but now the prognosis is good. Gwendoline, Francis and the girls are getting ready and we’re leaving for France as soon as I return to the house. I wanted to see you myself before we left, though, to reassure you that he is out of immediate danger.’

  Wilhelmina had cried then and Sir Augustus had sat patting her hand for some moments before he left. He had not once looked at Daisy who remained quite still and silent, numb with agony. William could have died and she would not have known. These past weeks she had been thinking . . . she could not bear to recall what she had thought, guilt piercing her heart like a sharp thorn. And all the time William had been fighting for his life in a distant town in a foreign country with only strangers to take care of him. William, William, oh, William. Who could have done such a terrible thing? How could he have made such enemies?

  She tried to recall his face but his image was blurred by the mist of time. How could you love someone so much, keep loving them even though you had told yourself over and over that you hated them, and yet not be able to picture their face?

  She wanted to howl out loud, give vent to the pain inside her, but she couldn’t. All she seemed able to do was repeat his name endlessly in her head. William, William, my darling William.

  Part 4

  More Tangled Webs

  Chapter Twenty

  By the time of Kitty and Alf’s wedding on a cold, fine day in the first week of December, the news from France was good.

  William was improving daily, Augustus wrote in the latest of his weekly letters to his sister across the water. The boy was walking a little now, mainly because the physician he’d obtained to take care of William was second to none. Monsieur Richer had operated successfully on the boy’s legs, and his arm and ribs were mending well. Unfortunately it was now considered doubtful if he would ever remember the hours leading up to the attack as had been hoped initially.

  The last thing William recalled was leaving the coaching inn at Abbeville on the morning of the day he disappeared. After that, nothing. He had lost a considerable amount of weight but of course that was only to be expected in the circumstances, and he still slept twenty hours out of every twenty-four, but he was on the road to recovery and that was all that mattered. In fact the boy had made such progress in the last few days that he could now safely be left in the care of his mother; Gwendoline wouldn’t budge from his room now he was recuperating at Claude’s château.

  The letter finished with best wishes for Wilhelmina’s health, and the promise that Augustus would visit his sister as soon as he and his daughters returned to Greyfriar Hall, which he expected to be very soon.

  This report of William’s recuperation enabled Daisy to enjoy Kitty and Alf’s wedding day with a lighter heart. Kitty had spent the last four weeks sewing a simple but pretty wedding dress from a dress length Wilhelmina had sent, once the reason for her maid’s abrupt departure had been fully explained by Daisy.

  She herself had bought her friend a beautiful stole of delicate white lace which Kitty wore over her hair in the form of a veil. As she walked down the aisle of Whitburn parish church Alf had eyes for no one but his radiant bride.

  The church was full, mainly with fisherfolk but Daisy was pleased to see a number of other faces she recognised, among them Molly’s sister whose husband was now back at work again.

  It was a happy day, a joyous one, and Gladys and Harold were not missed, not even by Kitty. Wilhelmina’s poor health had not permitted her to leave the house, but Kitty’s former mistress had sent a grand wedding present to the young couple in the form of a bone china dinner service, along with her good wishes for their happiness.

  And they would be happy, Daisy thought, as she sat in Mrs Hardy’s cottage with the other wedding guests, cuddling a tired Tommy on her lap. The child had been ecstatic that Daisy had been at the village since early morning to help Kitty get ready, and had not left her side for a moment all day.

  Alf had whisked Nellie up into his arms and carried her from her cottage to his once they had returned from the parish church, and Daisy’s grandmother had sat wrapped up in blankets in one of Enid’s comfy velvet-covered armchairs, thoroughly enjoying herself. Everyone had been packed into the limited space like sardines in a tin, but the feast Mrs Hardy and some of the other women had laboured over for days had been demolished with gusto, and Alf’s mother’s homemade wine had loosened tongues and made for much laughter.

  Kitty needed this, Daisy thought to herself as she glanced round the rooms crammed with friends, almost as much as she needed Alf. Already his mam was more of a mother to Kitty than G
ladys had ever been, and the two women got on like a house on fire. Everyone liked Kitty - you really couldn’t do anything else - and in this close community where everyone looked out for everyone else, she would grow and blossom.

  ‘Not too much, I hope, lass,’ Kitty laughed, after Daisy told the other girl her thoughts. ‘I used to eat for comfort back at the house, or that was me excuse leastways, but Alf’s mam is as good a cook as me mam any day and with being so happy . . .’ Kitty pulled a face and they both grinned. ‘I’m going to have to watch it else I shan’t get through the doors in this place, them being so narrow.’

  ‘You’re fine, Kitty,’ said Daisy warmly, ‘and you look beautiful today, as bonny a bride as any I’ve seen.’

  ‘Aye, I’d agree with that an’ all.’ Alf spoke over Kitty’s shoulder, his good-looking face flushed with the effects of his mother’s potent brew. He put an arm round his new wife in a brief and unusual - for a fisherman - show of affection, before he said to Daisy who had Tommy asleep on her lap, ‘Your granny wants to go back, lass. She’s a mite tired.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Daisy rose swiftly, Tommy still held tight to her. ‘I’ll just nip back quick if I can and put the bairn to bed first, and then I can look after Gran. Tilly will want to stay on a while, no doubt.’ They all looked across to Tilly and Cuthbert sitting close together, Tilly’s children and his all intermingled about them. Peter’s widow’s friendship with the big fisherman certainly didn’t appear to be on the wane.

  Once outside, the cold night air roused Tommy sufficiently for the small boy to be able to scramble up the ladder ahead of Daisy in the cottage. She sat on the edge of the bed he shared with Tilly’s youngest bairns once the child was under the heaped blankets, stroking the silky soft forehead as she smiled into the enormous brown eyes fixed on her face. ‘I don’t want you to go.’ He spoke in a whisper. ‘I want you to stay here with me, always.’

  It wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation and it usually occurred when the little boy was tired and fretful. Daisy replied as she always did. ‘I wish I didn’t have to go too but you know I do. Where else would the pennies come from for everyone?’

  ‘Why can’t I come with you? I’d be a good boy.’

  ‘I know you would, hinny, but bairns can’t stay at Evenley House and I have to be there to look after Miss Wilhelmina. Anyway, if you came with me you’d miss playing with the other bairns, now wouldn’t you? And what would Gran and Aunty do without you?’

  ‘I don’t care about playin’ an’ I don’t care about gran an’ Aunt Tilly neither.’ He began to cry, not noisy childish sobs but silently, great teardrops slipping down his round cheeks.

  Oh, Tommy, Tommy. After all the worry about William and the emotion of Kitty’s big day, this was the last straw. Daisy felt like crying with him. Instead she pulled him to her, settling him on her lap with the blankets still tucked round him as she sat back against the bolster, resting against the wall. ‘Don’t cry, hinny,’ she said very softly as he clung to her, chubby arms going round her waist as he buried his damp face with its mop of curly hair against her stomach. ‘Look, I promise you, as soon as we can be together I’ll tell you, all right? But in the meantime I need you to look after gran for me. You’re the only one I can trust to look after her properly, you know.’

  A couple of sniffs followed, then, ‘Gran said she was gonna baste me backside the day.’

  Oh, dear, what had he done now. ‘Did she? Well, you must have upset her in some way for her to say that because you know she loves you all the world.’

  ‘I only said Eliza was a skyet-gob.’

  He had called Tilly’s youngest fish-face? Daisy kept the amusement out of her voice with some effort. ‘Why did you call her that? She’s a nice little bairn, isn’t she?’

  He shrugged. ‘She said you love her as much as me, but you don’t, do you? You don’t love her like me?’

  All amusement gone, Daisy closed her eyes for a moment. She had lit the oil lamp before she had climbed the ladder and brought it up with her. Now she opened her eyes, staring into the flickering shadows as Tommy spoke again, his voice thick with tears once more. ‘She said Aunt Tilly’s her mam but she’s only my aunty, an’ that an aunty is different from a mam. She said aunties don’t love as much as mams an’ that you’re our aunty an’ you love us all the same.’

  Daisy forgot all about diplomacy. She tightened her hold on his small body, her voice fierce as she said, ‘This aunty loves just as much as a mam, hinny, for you anyway.’

  ‘But not for Eliza?’

  ‘No, not for Eliza, just you.’ She’d probably get it from her grandmother and Tilly over this if Tommy repeated it, but the child needed reassurance and that came first. Eliza had her mother with her twenty-four hours a day, who did her lad have? ‘To me, hinny, you are my bairn. All right?’

  The small head with its silky curls nodded, and Daisy had to restrain herself from crushing Tommy to her. The poor little bairn. He might be a bit of a handful at times but he was so tender under all his bravado. She just thanked God that Margery’s parents had never expressed any interest in their grandson. The last she’d heard of Hilda and Jacob Travis they had upped and moved Newcastle way, and nothing would convince her otherwise but that this move stemmed from the arrival of the child she held against her heart.

  One day when Tommy was older and ready to understand, when he was approaching manhood, she would show him his birth certificate. But she would take care to explain fully how things had been. That his parents had loved each other, that they had made a mistake certainly but they had loved each other and fully intended to marry. She would tell him that he would have been the most precious gift of all to them, as he was to her, and he must never doubt that for a second the rest of his life. Whatever anyone else might say.

  Daisy’s lips compressed. People could be cruel, and the stigma of the word ‘bastard’ was one which broke some folk before they had even had a stab at life. But it wouldn’t be like that for Tommy, not while she had breath in her body.

  She didn’t leave the cottage until he was fast asleep, and so it was half-an-hour later before she made her way along the path towards the Hardys’ place. She had almost reached the door when a figure emerged from the shadows, making her jump.

  ‘Sorry, lass.’ Alf’s voice was wry. ‘I seem to have been doing that all me life, waiting for you and then frightening you half to death.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ Daisy was reassured by his dry amusement but her voice expressed a hint of wariness when she said, ‘Why are you waiting for me, Alf?’

  He stared into her face, holding her eyes, his own expression changing the while from one of self-mockery to seriousness before he said, ‘I need to say goodbye, lass. We never did, did we?’

  ‘Alf--’

  ‘It’s all right, Daisy, really.’ His voice dropped to a low whisper. ‘I love Kitty, more than I thought I could ever love anyone who wasn’t you, an’ she suits me. She suits me more than you would ever have done an’ I see that now. But . . . I need to say goodbye to what might have been, if you’d felt different, an’ to ask you if you’ll still be me friend? If . . . if you’ve forgiven me for the things I said that day?’

  ‘Oh, Alf.’ She made a movement with her hand, touched by the naked emotion he was trying to conceal. ‘You’ll always be my friend, you and Kitty, my best friends. And you were right, in a way at least. I have to get on with my life, I can’t cry for the moon or hope for what will never be.’

  ‘He’s gettin’ better, the young master? So your granny said?’

  She nodded.

  Alf’s face was solemn now as he said, ‘He’s got to be the biggest fool in the world, lass, for all his fine education.’

  This unswerving support - something Alf had given her all her life when she thought about it - was almost too much for Daisy, tormented as she was by worry for William and sorrow at the way he had left. Her voice soft, she said, ‘Thank you, Alf, and I nee
dn’t tell you to be happy with Kitty because I know you will be.’

  ‘Aye, I do an’ all. She needs me you see, lass. At heart she’s like a dove with one wing down.’

  Both his understanding and the simile itself amazed Daisy for the insight they displayed. She nodded at him, saying, ‘Yes, that’s just it, Alf. And she loves you too. She always has. Don’t ever wonder about that.’

  They stared at each other for a moment more before Alf rubbed his hand across his face. ‘So, lass? Friends still?’

  ‘Always, Alf.’

  ‘That’s all I wanted to hear.’ He looked at her for a second longer, then turned and went towards the cottage. ‘We’d better see about gettin’ your granny home, an’ Tilly’s bairns an’ all. Her an’ Cuthbert can sit by the fire if he’s a mind to go back with her, but I’m goin’ to get George or one of the others to walk you back into Fulwell.’