The Bobbin Girls

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘All right,’ she told him finally. ‘Just one more kiss. But I’m watching your hands this time, make no mistake about that.’

  Dolly was sitting in the kitchen peeling potatoes for Lizzie when Alena got home. It was less of a surprise to see her sister-in-law thus occupied than it might once have been, so Alena took very little notice beyond wishing them both good evening. She sank into a fireside chair and propped up her feet on the brass fender. But then something in the resolute pursing of her mother’s lips and glimmer of suppressed impatience in Dolly’s eyes, told her all was not quite as it should be, that the pair were holding something back.

  ‘What?’ She looked from one to the other of them. ‘You look like the cat that’s swallowed the cream, Dolly. What is it? What’s happened?’ Alena was hoping that her sister-in-law might be pregnant again. She knew that Dolly desperately wanted another baby, yet, perhaps because of the troubles in her marriage, none seemed to be forthcoming. ‘Come on, why are you looking so pleased with yourself?’

  ‘It’s not about me,’ Dolly said hastily, as if reading her thoughts. ‘It’s you who should be preening yourself. She folded her plump arms and set her head to one side to deliver the message with a knowing smile. ‘Tomorrow at two, in the usual place which, apparently, you will know. Or so he says.’

  Her mind still on Mickey and whether she had permitted him to be a little too bold, Alena looked blank. ‘Who said? What are you talking about?’

  ‘He were right disappointed that you weren’t in when I saw him this afternoon, and most particular that I give you his message.’

  ‘Who?’ Alena was frowning, not understanding the enigmatic remarks, and then as the pair started to giggle, instinct brought her to her feet as if she’d been scalded. ‘Rob?’ Her voice was barely above a whisper. ‘You’ve seen Rob!’

  Then she was reaching for both her coat and the door handle almost in the same instant. It took their combined efforts to hold her back. ‘Not now, love. Tomorrow, he said,’ Lizzie gently reminded her, staring at her daughter’s mouth now bare of lipstick, then lifting a lock of wildly curling hair that had broken free from its pins. Just as well, it’ll give you time to smarten yourself up. Where have you been today? Through a hedge backwards? And you’ve got grass stains on your new frock. They’ll never come off.’

  Alena wasn’t interested in grass stains, though she did rush to the kitchen sink to splash cold water over her face. ‘What does it matter what I wear? He’s here. At last.’

  Lizzie offered her a towel to dry herself. ‘You look a bit rumpled, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Ma, I’m not a child any more. Neither is Rob. He wants to see me, not my frock.’ She turned to the mirror that hung over the fireplace, whipped out all the hairpins and began vigorously to brush the stiff curls.

  ‘Happen because you’re a young woman now, and not a child, you wouldn’t want him to ask too many questions about why you’re looking so rumpled, would you?’

  Alena paused only momentarily before slamming down the brush that seemed to have made scant difference, perhaps even added to the wildness of her hair since she hadn’t the patience to put back all the pins. ‘Oh Ma, don’t.’ And she gave her mother a quick hug. ‘I must go to him. Now.’

  ‘Nay, lass. Think.’

  ‘He said tomorrow,’ Dolly quietly put in, pausing as she reached for another potato to consider Alena with a thoughtful frown. Ma’s right. Happen it’ll be difficult if you go barging in before then. He might not be too pleased.’

  Alena actually laughed at that. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course he will be pleased. He’ll be delighted.’ She was halfway out the door when her parting words clinched the argument. ‘We haven’t seen each other for four years, for God’s sake!’ Then the whirlwind preparations were over and the house reverberated with an echoing silence.

  ‘Dear God,’ Lizzie said, staring at the closed door. ‘What have you done now, Dolly?’

  Alena’s heart was beating twenty to the dozen, and not simply from the exertion of running all the way to Ellersgarth Hall. There was a pain in her side, her mouth had gone dry and she felt sick.

  What if he wasn’t there, after all? Or if Dolly was right, and he wasn’t pleased to see her? Or if his feelings about her had changed? Mickey said that Rob was weak, not simply quiet and thoughtful.

  Could that be true? Perhaps he did give in too easily to James’s strictures. Was that why he’d stopped writing?

  Maybe he only wanted to meet her tomorrow in order to tell her they must part for good? Alena’s heart sank at this dreadful prospect and she slithered to a halt, becoming aware of a prickle of sweat between her breasts. Oh lord, why did she never listen to anyone’ She should at least have changed her grubby frock.

  By the time she reached the last corner of the long drive which led up to the farmhouse, Alena had quite convinced herself that either he would not be there, or that he wouldn’t want to see her. Then suddenly there he was, leaning casually against the trunk of a beech tree. The shock of seeing him was so great that at first she couldn’t believe her eyes. How different he looked, how splendid.

  This tall, sophisticated, good-looking young man in open-necked shirt and slacks simply couldn’t be Rob, could he? Where was the harum-scarum boy with tumbling curls and grubby knees. She had once been familiar with every single freckle on his fine skin, even with the way the silken hairs grew on his strong young arms. But she knew nothing of this man. He seemed a stranger to her.

  And he was not alone.

  On this warm summer evening, Olivia had arranged a small supper party out on the lawn. A long table had been set up, covered in a lace cloth, upon which lay an assortment of cold meats, salads and desserts. Dressed in beige silk and looking even more stunning than usual, she seemed relaxed and happier than Alena could ever remember seeing her. She was laughing as she handed round plates of food to the few assembled guests, clearly delighted to have her son home at last. James was deep in conversation with a portly gentleman and neither they, nor Rob himself, noticed Alena for some moments, which gave her ample time to collect her breath.

  Then he pushed himself away from the tree, swung round to face her, and she knew he’d become aware of her presence as if by instinct. She saw then, with a breathless lift of her heart, that he was smiling at her, as he always had.

  Rob saw a beautiful young woman in a blue summer dress marked with grass stains and mud on the hem. Her hair was as wild as he’d remembered it, her eyes even more blue, and he saw that she was breathing heavily, as if she had been running. Alena. Who else could look such a scarecrow and tear his heart in two?

  Yet almost in the same instant that he pulled his hands from his pockets and took a step towards her, his father was beside him, firmly grasping his arm and preventing him from taking another.

  He saw her hesitate, her lovely young face revealing a heartbreaking picture of fading hope, delight turning to dismay. Perhaps she saw his frown, heard his fierce whisper to James, but despite the fact that a deathly silence had fallen upon the assembled company and everyone was staring at them, she took a half-step towards him, his name on her lips. Brushing aside his father’s restraining hand, Rob strode purposefully forward to meet her.

  Dear God, thank you, she murmured, releasing a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding, for in that moment she knew that everyone had been wrong. The long empty years and endless lonely nights were vanquished by that smile, and he was a stranger no more. Rob was still hers.

  They stood and simply looked at each other, not touching, not smiling, not even speaking. Nothing that needed to be said could be expressed in that magical moment of reunion. It was enough that they were together.

  Then, as of one mind, they turned and walked away up the long drive, seeking the privacy of the woods. Several pairs of eyes watched them go, but no voices called to them, no protest came from Olivia or James, nor any sound from the fascinated guests. Not that either of the you
ng people would have cared, or even noticed.

  By instinct they chose the right path. Walking with the setting sun at their backs, their feet unerringly followed the path to their private childhood paradise. Yet each was only too aware that they were no longer children, that they had grown to adulthood, and that this might be the start of a journey for a man and a woman.

  Chapter Twelve

  The oak still stood, proud and noble. The rope they had swung from as children still hung from the crooked bough. Protected amongst the thick crown of leaves and branches, birds nested and reared their young, grubs turned into butterflies, beetles scurried and fungi bloomed. High in the trunk a red squirrel peeped at them before leaping to a branch and scurrying away in fright. It caused them both to laugh, but didn’t quite break the tension that was building between them.

  They sat between roots which spread out over the green turf of the woodlands, like arms embracing them, exactly as they had done all those years before. Alena curled her feet beneath her and leaned back against the sun-warmed bark to gaze at Rob in wonder, unable to believe that at last he was here beside her.

  ‘I thought you’d forgotten Ellersgarth existed,’ she said, reminding herself how he’d clearly become so engrossed with his new friends and his new life that he couldn’t even find the time to write, let alone come and see her. She longed to ask why, but was too afraid of what the answer might be. Instead she pursed her lips, lifting her chin in that pert way she had, attempting to fool him into thinking she really didn’t care one way or the other. For a moment that was exactly what he did believe, and all his insecurities rushed to the surface as he hastened to defend himself.

  ‘It’s not my fault that it’s been so long since I came home on a visit. I longed to come.’

  ‘You were too busy playing on your new rugger pitch, or swimming in your new swimming bath, I suppose.’ she mocked.

  ‘No. I kept asking all the time, but the more I asked, the more Father refused to allow me. He thought it would unsettle me, that I was better off staying at school.’

  ‘I dare say you were - better than bothering to stand up to him.’ They were quarrelling again. This was their first moment together after nearly four years and they were squabbling, only the light inconsequence of their bickering had quite gone, leaving hurt and a dull emptiness in its place. If someone else had come along and made these accusations they would have united as allies. Now they seemed stuck on opposite sides of an insurmountable fence.

  Rob was shaking his head. ‘I hated being away from the hills, the lakes and the forest, and from Ellersgarth.’

  ‘But not from me?’ she couldn’t resist provoking him.

  ‘Most of all from you.’ His voice was low and sounded suddenly angry. ‘You must have realised that, Alena. You said you’d wait. And I’ve written.’

  ‘I barely received a postcard this last year.’

  ‘I had exams and...’ He paused, not wanting to explain how there was little privacy in a boys’ school. ‘I thought you’d forgotten me.’ His father had taken great pleasure in telling him she was seeing Mickey Roscoe. Rob had hidden his hurt by pretending he was no longer interested. But looking at her now, at the smear of dust on her nose, her wayward curls, her wide defiant eyes, he knew he could never lose interest in her. Never. But he had his pride.

  ‘You’ve made new friends too, I hear.’

  Alena’s heart quickened as she recognised in the dullness of his expression that he knew she’d been seeing Mickey Roscoe. All in the past now. Still, she hadn’t quite forgiven him, had no intention of letting him off the hook for his neglect too easily.

  ‘You don’t expect me to sit at home and mope, do you?’ But there was something in her eyes that told a different story, and, not for the first time, he began to doubt his father. It came to him then, the reason for her coolness. It was as if she had actually spoken her fears out loud or he could read them in her mind, and at last he smiled.

  ‘You look exactly the same, Alena.’ He wanted to say only lovelier than ever, but couldn’t quite manage it.

  ‘Huh, how would you remember what I looked like?’

  ‘With a fish-face like yours? How could I forget?’

  She cast him a quick, startled glance and saw how he grinned, the flecks of gold that she remembered so well dancing in his eyes. And suddenly it was all right again. He was the old Rob, ready to tease and squabble, but his love for her clear in every word, every gesture, in the brightness of his gaze fixed upon her.

  ‘I can’t say I missed your horse-face either.’ And they smiled into each other’s eyes with perfect understanding.

  ‘I pictured you every night, but I forgot that you would have grown up and changed from the young girl I once knew.’

  ‘And you are no longer a boy,’ she added, a slight breathlessness in her voice, for it was true. This Rob, sitting so relaxed with arms resting on his knees, seemed different. The broad maturity of his chest and shoulders, the way his fair hair fell across a wide brow, the absence of freckles, and the shadow of stubble on his chin, all told their tale. He was a man.

  On that first evening they talked as if they were in the midst of a conversation that had been interrupted for four minutes, instead of four years. The awkwardness between them had vanished as if it had never been, and the time apart was forgotten as stories were told, news exchanged, agonies shared. Rob finally admitted to the way he’d been bullied at his first school, and how in dealing with it he’d been suspended.

  ‘Father hated that. It hurt his pride that a son of his should be picked on in that way.’

  She was outraged. ‘How utterly stupid! He should have been proud of you for sticking up for yourself, not blame you for being bullied. How unfair. It’s like blaming a poor hedgehog for being flattened by a great farm tractor.’

  ‘I’m still in one piece, thank goodness.’ But he was laughing at her anger, loving her fervour, her outraged sense of justice. He’d forgotten how very wound up and emotional she could become. Yet it was one of the things he loved most about her, her passions and enthusiasms, the way she lived life to the full and felt everything so keenly. Now he reassured her, saying he hadn’t liked the school much in any case. ‘I’m glad I left. He found me a better one, I’ll give him that. Nobody attempted to bully me there.’ Which mollified her a little.

  A small silence fell, in which Alena suddenly felt oddly shy. ‘So now you’ll be looking for a job?’

  He pulled a face. ‘Father still favours university. Battle lines will no doubt be drawn up yet again before I get my way, as I fully intend to this time.’ Which caused them both to smile.

  ‘Good for you. Do you know what you want to do?’

  ‘I mean to be a woodsman. I might go and see Frank Roscoe again, see if he knows of anyone looking for an apprentice. How about you? Are you happy, Ally?’

  She felt her heart contract at the use of his pet name for her. ‘Of course I’m happy, though we’ve had our own troubles here.’ She told him then about her work at the mill, about Dolly losing the baby and Sandra’s accident, though glossing over its cause.

  ‘But the best thing is, I think Harry and Sandra are walking out. Isn’t that wonderful? Ma had almost given up hope of his ever finding a girl. Now we just need to find someone for Kit.’

  ‘Which, for all his good looks, with his father’s temper, won’t be so easy,’ Rob added, then saw her face fall. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.’

  ‘No, it’s not that. You’re right, he is like Dad.’

  When Rob heard the true reason for her reaction, he expressed such sorrow at Ray’s death that tears sprang to her eyes. But she decided this was not the moment to tell him why, exactly, she grieved so deeply. She might break down entirely then. Alena dashed the tears away and asked him to tell her more about his future plans and ambitions. They became so utterly absorbed in their conversation and each other, that it was only when the distant church clock struck ten that she scrambled to her feet
in a panic.

  ‘Heavens, I shouldn’t be here! I’ve got work tomorrow. I have to be up at six.’ The long summer day had beguiled them into thinking it might never end. As she turned to go, he grasped her wrist and pulled her back to him.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?’

  Alena looked surprised, as if it were a foolish question to ask. ‘Of course.’ Then before she could change her mind, or think better of it, she kissed him full upon his mouth, soft and warm and sweetly beguiling, and for all it was fleeting and light-heartedly done, it came as no surprise to either of them that seconds later she was in his arms, and he was at last kissing her as she had always longed to be kissed. Childhood was over.

  Following supper with Lizzie that evening, Dolly and Tom walked home in complete silence. This was such a common state of affairs that neither of them remarked upon it, or made any attempt to break it. The Lakeland night was warm and soft, a gentle breeze whispering in the boughs of the beeches, and Dolly tucked her arm in his, wanting any passers-by to be sure of whose wife she was. Relations between them may well have fallen into a distant, lacklustre tolerance, but that was no reason, she believed, to broadcast their problems. They’d developed a sort of truce in which each intruded as little as possible upon the other, but it made neither of them happy. This wasn’t at all how Dolly had imagined married life with the much sought-after Tom Townsen.

  As they reached The Golden Stag, Tom jerked a nod vaguely in Dolly’s direction and, shrugging free of her arm, headed towards the open pub door.

  ‘Here, where you off to?’

  He stopped, surprised. ‘For a pint, if it’s aught to do with you.’ Something in the casual way he disregarded her brought out all her carefully suppressed misery.

  ‘I’m your wife, in case you’ve forgotten. But then, I’m surprised you bother to stay married to me at all, since most of your time these days is spent in that flipping pub.’