Ella's War

by Lynne Francis

  What would Ella do? Ella was wondering that herself. Hearing how Albert had hoped to come back to Northwaite, once he had achieved enough to make Alice proud of him, had given her an unpleasant reminder that he believed he belonged to Alice, and probably always would. His shocking discovery of her death so many years after it had happened had simply served to reinforce that belief. Ella realised that her anxiety over her developing feelings for Albert wasn’t misplaced at all. She sought Albert’s eyes, but although he had raised them hopefully when Sarah started to speak, he refused to meet Ella’s gaze.

  ‘Why, I can help you all get settled here and then I can return to York.’ The idea came to Ella in a flash. Did she mean it, she wondered, or was she hoping to provoke some sort of response from Albert? If so, she was disappointed for, at that moment, Beth broke free from her game and hurled herself at Albert’s legs.

  ‘Come and play with us,’ she demanded. ‘We can play hide-and-seek. It’s lovely here. Thank you for bringing us.’ And she tugged at his hand and pulled him up the garden.

  Ella went over to the hedge and looked out over the gate and across the field. The woods at the far side dipped down into the valley, leading down to where the ruins of the mill stood. Beyond, in the distance, the higher reaches of Nortonstall were visible, grey brick and slate shimmering in the afternoon heat. Had Alice ever stood looking over this gate, she wondered? She herself had used it many a time in her younger years, slipping away over the fields to avoid the chores.

  She turned back to find her mother sobbing quietly under the tree. ‘Why, whatever is wrong?’ she asked, hurrying over to sit beside her and placing an arm around her shoulders.

  She was relieved when Sarah shook her head and smiled. ‘I’m not sad. Well, I suppose I am. But I’m happy too. Is it possible that things could be about to be made right? After such a long time? It’s just that it is a lot to take in. Don’t mind me. Leave me be. Go and talk to Albert.’ Sarah suddenly looked worried again and Ella felt as though she had divined her thoughts and anxieties about his sudden change in demeanour towards her.

  ‘It looks as though Albert is happy in Beth’s company. Let’s go into the house and have a look around. Albert’s offer is such a generous one, but we need to be sure. We are quite settled in Luddenden, after all.’

  So Ella and Sarah went arm in arm into the house, and soon the others drifted in too and although some of the memories that the house brought back were painful ones, there were happy ones too. Ella told Beth how Albert had come to see her when she was a baby, and how shy he was of her, and how he was in awe of her tiny fingers and toes. Then Beth laughed at him and he teased her and told her she was even more frightening now. Amidst all the good humour, Sarah went quietly into the kitchen and moved around it, running her fingers over the dusty surfaces, before sitting down heavily at the kitchen table.

  ‘It’s barely changed at all since we were last here, even though others have lived in it.’ She sighed and looked around. ‘But it’s a nice feeling. It’s still home. What do you think, Ella?’

  Ella was prevented from replying by the noisy arrival of Annie, Beattie and Beth, who had been having a look around upstairs. They clattered down the staircase and burst into the kitchen.

  ‘Can we go now? We’re hungry. And it’s such a long walk home.’ Beth looked disheartened at the thought. ‘But can we come again? I like it here.’

  Albert had followed them through. ‘One last surprise,’ he said, bending to open a cupboard of the dresser. He pulled out a basket, laden with bread and cheese, some cold cuts and a bottle or two of ale. Ella rinsed the dust off the plates and glasses at the pump outside, then they all sat down in the garden and ate the picnic, making the most of the last vestiges of warmth as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

  ‘It’s getting cooler,’ Sarah said, struggling to her feet aided by Thomas, once there was nothing left of the picnic but crumbs. ‘Time to head home I think.’

  They were all reluctant to leave: Ella because of Albert; the girls because of the garden; Sarah because of her memories; and Thomas because he couldn’t face the walk home. As they passed the churchyard once more, Ella turned back and saw Albert watching them. And, for a fleeting second, she thought there was someone else standing at his side, someone whose height and stature was very like her own.

  ‘A trick of the light,’ she told herself, shivering slightly. When she turned to look again, there was nobody there.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The move was accomplished with very little fuss. Sarah had discussed it with everyone on the walk home, highlighting the advantages in the same way that she had when they had moved to Luddenden so recently. The same carter who had transported them less than six months before was hired to drive them over to Northwaite. They had few extra possessions, other than a box or two of Sarah’s wares for market. The hill from Nortonstall up to Northwaite was so steep, though, that they had to climb down from the cart and walk behind it to ease its load.

  Sarah’s face was aflame with more than the effort of walking as the procession made its way over the cobbled main street of Northwaite. This time, in the middle of a weekday morning, there was no escaping the stares and comments. Women stopped sweeping their steps to lean on their brooms and watch them pass and Ella was nervous in case someone should call out or make comments bolder than the muttered ones she could barely make out.

  A figure stepped out of the side road to join the little procession as it passed the village shop and Ella’s heart leapt, for it was Albert, come to show solidarity. He walked at the front, by the horse’s head, and cheerfully greeted anyone he recognised, not a whit abashed by the stir they were causing.

  Sarah had sent Beattie to school and Annie and Thomas to their apprenticeships, with instructions to join them at home time. Ella was glad they were spared the embarrassment. Even Beth, initially excited, had sensed the atmosphere and shrank back to hide amongst Sarah’s skirts as she walked. As the edge of the village drew near and Lane End Cottage came into view, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. They hastened up the path and Ella, who had promised herself that she wouldn’t, stole a glance back towards the village. With the exception of two or three people gathered, gossiping, she was relieved to see the street returning to normality.

  Albert reached into his pocket and presented the big iron front-door key to Sarah with a flourish.

  ‘All yours, for as long as you wish,’ he said. ‘I will come over on Saturday afternoon to see how you have settled in, and Thomas can give me a hand to sort out the garden. Once the weeds are cut back you’ll be able to see how much still survives of your original planting. Not much, I fear, but I’m sure it won’t take you long to establish your herb beds again.’

  Albert was as good as his word. Sarah had taken the Saturday off from the market, preferring to use the time to set the house to rights. Thomas made his way home from the printworks where he was apprenticed and Albert allowed him enough time to eat a quick lunch before giving him a spade and bidding him join him in the garden. Albert scythed the long grass while Thomas turned over the herb and vegetable beds, pausing now and then as Sarah exclaimed at the discovery of a plant that she could use for her remedies. By dusk, order was restored to the garden and both Thomas and Albert were sprawled full length on the shorn grass, alternately laughing and groaning at their aching muscles. Ella paused to watch them from the kitchen window, musing on their easy relationship. Once again, her thoughts turned to how different things might have been were it not for the mill fire and if Alice still lived. Then, reluctant to pursue that line of thinking, she took glasses of ale and a jug of water out on a tray for the two workers, and promised them supper within the half hour.

  As Albert looked up to take a glass from her, smiling his thanks, she momentarily glimpsed the look of longing she had read in his eyes before, but then the shutters came down and he was polite and withdrawn once again. Ella, fulsome in her praise for the work that they had done, did her best to
remain unmoved, but she withdrew to the kitchen with a heavy heart. All had changed between her and Albert and she was at a loss as to explain how it was so. Perhaps it was for the best; her planned return to York would hopefully keep her too busy to brood on it further.

  Days passed, and to Ella and Sarah’s surprise, their return occasioned little comment in the village. It seemed as though the passage of time had helped; either that or those most vociferous in their original condemnation of the family had moved elsewhere in search of work. Indeed, on their first Tuesday in the cottage one of the villagers knocked at their door, enquiring as to whether Sarah would be at the market the following Saturday. Only, she said, she had missed her the previous Saturday and had need of one of Sarah’s ointments. Sarah invited her into the kitchen, found the jar she required and then talked to her in greater detail, promising to make up a remedy for her, specially tailored to her needs. It was the start of a trickle of similar visitors, whose numbers swelled to a steady flow within the month. Sarah started talking about having specific evenings for consultations as she found the visitors, although welcome, disruptive to the family routine. Albert, overhearing her discussing this during one of his evening visits, fashioned a stone niche beside the kitchen door over the course of several subsequent visits. It was designed so that Sarah could set a lit candle in a jar there to signify when patients were welcome of an evening. Ella had stood silently by and watched him at work, patiently chipping away and smoothing the stone. Under his practised fingers, contours and a simple swirl of foliage emerged from the pale stone that formed such a contrast to the grey exterior walls.

  Albert seemed to neither mind nor enjoy her silent observation. Ella had learnt over the weeks to expect little from him. Even so, it came as a shock one evening when Annie related that she had heard that Albert was walking out with Violet Lockwood. Sarah looked sharply at Ella and scolded Annie for spreading tittle-tattle, then quickly changed the subject. The unwelcome news kept Ella awake throughout the night, tossing and turning in her bed. She knew Violet, remembering her well from her mill days. A little older than Ella, she was the daughter of Walter Lockwood the Northwaite butcher and, unless she had changed, quite a forceful character. But walking out already? Why, it was less than a month ago that Ella believed she had cause to think that there was something between herself and Albert.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Barely two months had passed since the carter had brought them from Luddenden to Northwaite and here he was again, waiting outside Lane End Cottage in the sunshine of a late August morning that promised a hot day ahead. The letter that Ella had persuaded Sarah to write had received a swift reply from York and, as Ella picked up her bags to take them out to the waiting carter, she reflected that this time she both knew, and did not know, what to expect. Life in a big city would be strange no longer, and she knew both the house and its occupants. Yet she did not know who she would find there or how they would receive her. The letter that Sarah had read out to her from Mr Ward had made mysterious reference to ‘some changes in the household’ since she was there last. If anything, Ella felt more nervous than when she had been setting out into the unknown. Was returning to York going to prove to be a misjudgement? Weighed against this was her certainty that she couldn’t stay in Northwaite and endure the sight of Albert, who had settled back in the village, on an almost daily basis. Nor could she continue to feel so hopeless about her lack of contribution to the household. Sarah had been adamant that her presence was invaluable to her, but even though patients had returned for the remedies that she had been supplying to them seven years previously, and her market stall was still popular, Ella knew that the weekly expenses for a family were high. The peppercorn rent charged by Albert was invaluable; Thomas and Annie would both be bringing in small wage packets once their apprenticeships were at an end, but until then Ella felt it her duty to find a way to provide. On top of that, Beth would be starting at Northwaite school in the autumn. Ella felt her choice was clear. She had to go back to Grange House.

  Thomas, Annie and Beattie had said their goodbyes earlier that morning. There had been tears then and Ella did not relish further distress from Sarah and Beth. But she found Sarah on the front path with a furrowed brow.

  ‘I can’t find Beth anywhere,’ she said. ‘I’ve searched the house from top to bottom and even looked under the beds.’

  ‘Do you think she could have run off?’ Ella was immediately alarmed.

  ‘She was upset at the thought of your leaving, but would she have missed the chance to say goodbye?’ Sarah was troubled.

  ‘We need to look sharp, miss, if you’re to make the train.’ The carter had turned in his seat and was viewing the unfolding scene dispassionately.

  It was with mounting agitation that Ella loaded her bag into the back of the cart, disturbing a small cloud of dust from the empty flour sacks piled there as she did so.

  With a heavy heart, she prepared to mount the step to sit herself next to the driver when she heard a volley of muffled sneezes.

  ‘Beth?’ she said, questioningly.

  There was a moment’s silence, followed by more sneezes. Ella drew back the folded sacks to reveal Beth, her face and hair white with a dusting of flour, tear streaks making runnels down her cheeks.

  ‘Oh, Beth,’ Ella said, quickly lifting her out and hugging her, with no regard for the mess it would make of her travelling clothes. ‘Did you think to come with me? I’m so sorry to leave you but I promise I will come back soon. You must be good for Ma. And for Albert,’ she added as an afterthought.

  ‘Miss –’ the carter said by way of warning, as the horse shifted its feet uneasily and tossed its head, sensing his growing impatience.

  Ella gathered both Sarah and Beth to her. ‘I love you both,’ she whispered, then turned and rapidly mounted the step to seat herself beside the carter. Needing no further encouragement, he shook the reins and they were off. Ella turned and gazed at the scene behind her, trying to lodge it in her memory – Sarah clutching Beth’s hand and waving; both of them crying; Sarah bending to give Beth her handkerchief; the sun bright behind them; the hills blue in the distance.

  The carter stayed silent as Ella’s shoulders heaved and shook while they trotted at a brisk pace through the village and down the hill to the station. As he handed her down from the cart in the station yard, the train just coming into view as it chugged around the bend in the valley, he said gruffly, ‘Don’t take on now. The young ’un will be busy enough on summat else by now, I’ll be bound. Aye, and when she’s but a few years grown she’ll be after joining you in yon big city!’ And with that he shook the reins and headed off without a backward glance while Ella, struggling to compose herself, hastened with her bag to the station platform, just in time to climb into a carriage before the doors slammed shut.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The train was, as before, too crowded to afford Ella any private space, either physical or mental. Although she appeared to be looking out of the small portion of window available to her, her gaze was unseeing. However, she managed to smile politely at her near neighbours and even exchange a few pleasantries, even though her mind was in a whirl and she felt that her heart might break.

  Once again, she was leaving behind the family and home she loved so much, to return to a life she had once enjoyed but that now filled her with trepidation. She had no idea of the welcome she would face on her return, if any, nor whether it would be possible to feel secure in her position. John’s presence would be the one saving grace, but it was difficult to know how he might feel about her after her sudden, unexplained departure. Would he trust her again? He would feel that she had abandoned him. Perhaps he had a new governess, one he felt closer to, or maybe he had already been sent away to school?

  It wasn’t until she was sitting on the station platform at Leeds, waiting for the York train, that she allowed her thoughts to stray to the subject that was most upsetting to her. This time, she had no interest in watching the pas
sengers spill from the trains, or wondering about the nature of them, their journeys or their errands for the day. Her thoughts were turned wholly inwards as she mourned the loss of something that she wasn’t even sure was real. Perhaps it had been solely her imagination that Albert had feelings for her. Yet she was convinced she had felt some connection between them, a connection that seemed to have vanished as soon as the family left Luddenden for Northwaite. Or did it date back even earlier? Had something happened when he had returned to York with news of Ella’s whereabouts? She turned the events over in her mind, trying to put her finger on when she had noticed a change. And now her feelings threatened to overwhelm her.

  As a child in Northwaite she had felt happy and secure, wrapped up in her own thoughts as she roamed the fields and woods around their house. Although, or perhaps because, she was the second child in a family of five children, she had a solitary nature and was content in her own company. It was Alice who had borne the burden of both helping her mother and working at the mill. With a sense of guilt, Ella recognised that she had slipped away from the house, and her duties, whenever possible.

  Once Alice had given birth to Beth, things had changed. Ella found herself thrust into Alice’s role, at least to the extent of taking up employment at the mill. The busy, noisy environment and the need to fit in had come as a shock to Ella but she had soon reverted to her usual dreamy demeanour, which seemed to act as a protective bubble around her. It wasn’t until she had gone to work for the Ottershaws, after Alice’s death, that she had finally lost this. There was no place for such a disposition in an employment that filled her every waking hour, where it seemed she had full responsibility but not the recognition for running the household. Grange House had been a shock of a different nature. Here she had learnt how to work as part of a team, as she had at the mill, in a position that gave her some status, however lowly. Although she respected her fellow employees at Grange House, and they had been kind to her, in her adult years she had lacked the experience of someone caring for her, of wanting to do things for her. Albert had given her a glimpse of what such a feeling could be like. When he had taken her to the tearoom in York she had been flustered not only by her surroundings but also by his solicitude, even though it was just simple concern for her wellbeing on such a cold day. Until such a concern was exhibited, and by someone of the opposite sex, she had had no idea that she had been starved of such attention. Albert’s subsequent visits to the family in Luddenden had opened the floodgates. Ella was terrified of showing anyone how it made her feel, terrified of exposing her vulnerability. And now she could see she had been right to safeguard her emotions. It felt as though, for whatever reason, she didn’t deserve happiness and she was foolish to have even allowed herself a glimpse of it; to have indulged in a fantasy of a life that might have been hers. If it wasn’t clear that Sarah and the family were now on the road to a better future, thanks to Albert, she would have been forced to conclude that Alice’s death had somehow blighted them all.