by Dilly Court
‘He could, but it’s very inconvenient.’ He finished his tea in two large gulps. ‘All right, you may call the boy and tell him to make the trap ready, but I want him back here as soon as possible. I need his help ditching this afternoon.’
‘Would you like him to collect the ploughshare from the smithy, Eddie?’ Dora asked innocently. ‘It would save you a trip to the village.’
He hesitated, as if the decision was a momentous one, and then he nodded his head. ‘I suppose the boy could be trusted to carry out such a simple task unaided. Very well, but tell him not to use it as an excuse to loiter.’ He shoved the empty cup into her hands and left the kitchen without a backward glance.
As the door closed on him, Dora turned to Irene with a conspiratorial smile. ‘I want Arnold to meet his cousin. Even if Maude wants nothing to do with us, there is no reason for my boy to be kept apart from his own flesh and blood.’
‘I agree with you. And perhaps Miss Maude is not quite as unfeeling as you seem to think.’
‘Why do you say that?’
Irene was touched by the eager look on Dora’s face and she gave her an encouraging smile. ‘I believe that the bedchamber where I sleep might have once been yours. I was allowed to use it on my previous visit to Havering and it struck me then that it was like no other room in the house. I don’t think that a thing has been changed in it since you left home all those years ago, but it has been kept clean and aired as if in readiness for your return.’
‘Is it a room overlooking the garden?’ Dora asked with a tremor in her voice. ‘Are the curtains and coverlet patterned with roses, and does the afternoon sunshine flood the room with light?’
‘Yes,’ Irene said, smiling. ‘It is exactly like that.’
Dora’s eyes misted and her lips trembled. ‘Thank you for telling me, Irene. Perhaps, deep down, Maude has forgiven me after all. You don’t know how happy that makes me.’
An hour later, after an uneventful ride in the somewhat rickety trap behind an aged carthorse with no apparent ambition to go faster than a snail, they arrived at the village smithy. Irene had suggested that Arnold, a boy of few words, might like to go there first. Dora had already told him that he was to meet his cousin from London, but Arnold had not appeared to be particularly interested. Irene could only hope that Arthur might be a little more enthusiastic when she introduced him to his young relative. Perhaps under Artie’s influence, the rather surly and taciturn Arnold might turn out to be a totally different boy. It was worth a try.
‘Here we are, Arnold,’ Irene said cheerfully as they approached the smithy.
‘I’ve been here before,’ Arnold muttered, shooting her a pitying look, as if to imply that all women were scatterbrained creatures who must be tolerated but otherwise ignored. ‘You are the stranger round here, not me.’
Arthur emerged from the forge and was heading towards them. ‘And that is your cousin Arthur,’ Irene said, ignoring his rudeness.
‘This is a surprise, Renie,’ Arthur said, casting a curious glance at her companion. ‘I didn’t know you had a gentleman friend in the neighbourhood.’ He winked at Arnold, who turned his head away with a disdainful sniff.
‘I won’t get down, Artie. I’ve hurt my ankle and Arnold is going to drive me home when he has done an errand for his father, Farmer Kent.’ She gave Arthur a meaningful glance, jerking her head in Arnold’s direction.
‘Farmer Kent’s son?’ Arthur stared at her with a puzzled frown. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Artie, I want you to meet your cousin, Arnold Kent.’
‘My cousin?’ Arthur looked at Arnold and then back to Irene. ‘I still don’t understand.’
‘I never asked to meet you. It was Ma’s idea and my dad says that all women are simpleminded.’ Arnold shot a scornful look at Irene. ‘If you ask me, this one ain’t no better than the rest.’
‘Here, boy, don’t talk to Miss Irene like that,’ Arthur said angrily. ‘Show some respect.’ He drew Irene aside, lowering his voice. ‘Is this true, Renie?’
‘Yes, and it explains a lot. It was Dora, Miss Maude’s sister who married her old sweetheart.’
‘Damn me!’ Arthur said, staring at Arnold in amazement. ‘No wonder the old girl was upset. Are you certain?’
‘I met Dora at the farm. There’s no doubt that she is Miss Maude’s sister.’
‘Stop whispering.’ Arnold stood up in the well of the cart. ‘What are you saying? I want to know.’
‘It’s up to you to sort this out, Artie,’ Irene said gently. ‘I’ve done my bit.’
A shadow of doubt crossed Arthur’s face, but he stepped up to the cart and held out his hand. ‘How do, old chap? I’m pleased to meet you.’
‘I have to collect a mended ploughshare,’ Arthur said stiffly, ignoring Arthur’s outstretched hand. ‘We deal with Bligh, not his apprentice.’
Arthur’s smile faded. ‘Do you now? Well, young man, I’m sorry but the gaffer is busy at present, and I think I can be trusted to find the article in question. Would you like to hop down and give me a hand?’
‘No, I would not. Just do as I ask and be quick about it, my man.’
With a swift movement, Arthur hoisted his surly cousin from the driver’s seat by the scruff of his neck and the seat of his breeches. ‘Blood relative or not, you don’t speak to anyone in that tone of voice, young ’un.’
Irene smothered a giggle at the sight of Arnold’s red face and flailing limbs as Arthur dangled him above the ground. ‘Don’t be too hard on him, Artie. He’s just a boy.’
‘And a rude one at that,’ Arthur retorted, releasing Arnold so that he landed on his hands and knees in the mud. ‘Get up and help me find the ploughshare. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to take the wrong ’un home to your pa.’
Arnold scrambled to his feet, brushing the mud off his knees. ‘You did that on purpose, you big bully.’
‘I did it to teach you to mind your manners, cousin,’ Arthur said amicably. He held out his hand. ‘You and I should be friends and not foes. Come, shake on it.’
Arnold backed away. ‘How do I know that we really are cousins? You could just be saying that to make a fool of me.’
‘It’s time someone told you a few home truths, young man. Come with me and I’ll tell you a bit about your mother’s family. Then you can decide whether or not you want to get to know the Greenwoods.’ Arthur strolled away from the cart and disappeared into the fiery interior of the smithy.
Arnold hesitated and he glanced nervously at Irene. She smiled and nodded. ‘Go on. You’ll like Artie when you get to know him, and you might find you have more in common with him than you imagine.’
For a moment she thought that he was going to refuse, but then he seemed to think better of it and he trotted after Arthur like an obedient puppy. Irene sighed. Her ankle was throbbing painfully and her head was beginning to ache. She was glad that she had been able to introduce Arthur to his cousin, and maybe in time the breach between Miss Maude and her sister would be healed, but all this only served to remind her that she was far from home and family. Meeting Edward’s father had unsettled her even further, but it had made her realise that she should stop looking for answers in the safety of the countryside. She must return to London where she truly belonged.
Rainclouds had gathered and the sky had darkened ominously. She called out to Arthur to hurry and was relieved to see him returning with Arnold helping him to carry the heavy ploughshare. They loaded it in the trap and Arnold leapt up beside her with the agility of a young monkey. He took the reins and released the handbrake.
‘Goodbye, young ’un,’ Arthur said, ruffling his hair.
‘Do you promise to come and see me at the farm?’ Arnold asked plaintively. ‘You won’t forget, will you?’
‘I will come on Sunday. I don’t hold with family feuds and I look forward to meeting your ma and pa.’
Arnold nodded his head and grinned. ‘Walk on,’ he said, clicking his tongue against his teeth.
<
br /> Irene shot a grateful look at Arthur and he responded with a wink and a smile. ‘See you later, Renie.’
She blew him a kiss as the horse started off at a steady plod, and she turned to Arnold with a smile. ‘That wasn’t too painful now, was it?’
He hunched his shoulders and grunted.
She took this for assent and they lapsed into silence for the rest of the short drive to the Round House. As Arnold slowed the horse to a halt outside the gate, Irene prepared to climb down.
‘Do you need some help?’ Arnold murmured with a half-hearted attempt to rise from his seat.
‘I can manage, and you’d best get home before it starts to rain or you’ll get drenched.’
She winced as she attempted to put weight on her injured ankle. ‘Maybe I could use a hand,’ she admitted reluctantly.
‘Someone’s coming down the path,’ Arnold said, peering over her shoulder. ‘And he’s bigger and stronger than me.’
Irene turned her head and her heart lurched against her ribs. For a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. Hope and fear of disappointment merged into one as he drew nearer, and the blood pounding in her ears threatened to deafen her. He vaulted the gate and came to stand by the cart. Even in the half-light she would have known that familiar face. It might be ten years since she had last seen her brother, but there was no mistaking Jim’s grin, which spread from ear to ear as he looked up at her.
‘Strewth, girl, I hardly recognised you.’ He lifted her down from the trap and held her at arm’s length, staring at her in wonderment. ‘You’ve changed so much, Renie. What happened to that little kid who was bawling her eyes out because I was leaving?’
‘Jim – after all this time. I – we thought you might be …’ Her breath caught on a sob as she gazed at him through a veil of tears. The boy was now a man; his round boyish features had been sculpted by maturity but the eyes were still the same. ‘I c-can’t believe it. Is it really you?’
‘It’s me all right. I’ve come to take you home, ducks.’
‘How did you know where to find me? Oh, Jim, I think I must be dreaming.’
‘I’m off then,’ Arnold said sulkily. ‘Seems you don’t need me any more.’
Irene gave him a watery smile. ‘Ta for bringing me home, Arnold.’
Jim took a coin from his pocket and tossed it to Arnold. ‘That’s for your trouble, boy.’
Arnold caught it deftly but he tossed it back at Jim and the coin landed on the soft ground at his feet. ‘I don’t want your money, you great oaf.’ He flicked the reins. ‘Walk on.’
‘You’ve hurt his feelings,’ Irene said, torn between tears and laughter as she watched the cart disappearing into the gloom.
‘Never mind him,’ Jim said, glancing up at the leaden sky. ‘We’ve got ten lost years to catch up on, so let’s get you indoors before the heavens open.’
Irene gazed up into his suntanned face. ‘I can’t believe it’s really you. Pinch me or I’ll think I’m dreaming.’
He pinched her arm. ‘Is that real enough for you?’
‘Ouch! That hurt,’ Irene said, laughing. ‘There’s so much I want to know.’ She had almost forgotten her injured ankle but it reminded her now with a sharp stabbing pain as she attempted to walk and she reached out to grasp Jim’s arm.
‘What’s the matter, Renie? Are you hurt?’
‘It’s nothing – just a twisted ankle.’
He swept her up in his arms. ‘Same old Renie,’ he said, chuckling. ‘You was always getting into scrapes as a nipper. You may look like a lady, but you haven’t changed a bit.’
She clung to him, scarcely able to believe that her long lost brother had really come home. Despite the tingling sensation where he had pinched her, she still feared she might wake up and find it had all been a dream, but when he pushed the back door open with the toe of his boot and the familiar aroma of cooking and wet dogs filled her nostrils, Irene knew that all this was real.
Martha looked up from stirring a pan on the range and her face crumpled with concern when she saw Irene. ‘Lawks, what happened to you?’
‘I hurt my ankle,’ Irene said breathlessly as Jim set her down on a chair by the fire. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, Martha.’
‘We was getting worried. Miss Maude was about to go looking for you when your brother turned up. He said you was always disappearing when you was a nipper and not to worry.’ Martha turned back to watching the contents of the pot. ‘I says you’d come back when you was hungry, but Miss Maude was in a bit of a stew.’
‘Well, she’s here now,’ Jim said, shrugging off his greatcoat to reveal a smart suit that would not have looked out of place on a city gentleman. ‘And I’m sure a cup of tea would go down well, or perhaps something a bit stronger – for medicinal purposes, of course.’ He glanced at Irene with a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes so reminiscent of their father’s that she felt her throat constrict.
‘Miss Maude doesn’t hold with strong drink,’ Irene murmured, turning her head away so that Jim would not see how she struggled to control her emotions. She did not want to make a fool of herself in front of Martha, and Miss Maude had just walked into the kitchen with a look on her face that would have turned fresh milk to cheese in an instant.
‘Oh! So you’ve decided to grace us with your presence then, Irene.’ It was a statement rather than a question. ‘I don’t suppose you gave a thought to the possibility that Martha might be worried sick about you. I don’t allow things like that to put me out of countenance, but you could have shown a little consideration for our – I mean, her – feelings.’
‘Hold on a moment, Miss Greenwood,’ Jim said, laying his hand on Irene’s shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. ‘Irene has hurt her ankle and I think she deserves the chance to explain her absence. I’m sure she had no intention of causing either of you any concern.’
Maude’s stern features relaxed a little and she inclined her head. ‘Maybe I was a little hasty.’ She turned to Martha with an imperious wave of her hand. ‘Tea, please, Martha, and fetch the brandy bottle. We’ll take it in the parlour if Mr Angel would be kind enough to help Irene to the sofa. And bring some clean linen and a bowl of cold water so that I can make a compress for her ankle.’
‘Do this, do that,’ Martha grumbled. ‘Anyone would think I was a slave.’
Maude shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t want you eavesdropping outside the door, so you’d better join us. Don’t fret, you old harridan, we’ll await your coming.’ She whisked out of the room and her footsteps echoed off the polished oak floorboards and she made her way to the parlour.
Jim lifted Irene from the chair despite her protest that she could walk. ‘I’d best carry you, ducks. You should keep your weight off that ankle until it’s been seen to. Anyway, it seems we’ve had a royal command, so we’d best not keep the lady waiting.’ He glanced over his shoulder at Martha, who was still mumbling beneath her breath as she made the tea. ‘I’ll be back to help you with the tray, Miss Martha.’
Irene stifled a giggle at the sight of Martha’s open-mouthed look of astonishment, which quickly turned into a delighted smirk. ‘I see you’ve a way with the ladies,’ she whispered as Jim carried her out of the kitchen and along the hallway to the parlour. ‘You’ve been away for so long and there’s so much I want to ask you.’
‘I’ve been round the world more times than I can count, and seen a great many things. I’m a different person from the wild boy that I was when I left home.’
‘Not too different, I hope,’ Irene said, laying her head on his shoulder. ‘You’re still my big brother and I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you have come back to us.’
He laid her gently on the sofa. ‘It’s been too long, Renie. But I’m here now and I mean to make amends for everything.’
‘Not before time, as far as I can see,’ Maude said, brushing him aside and bending over Irene to unlace her boot. ‘Don’t hover, young man. Go and fetch the cold water and lin
en so that I can put a cold compress on this ankle. There will be plenty of time later for explanations and apologies for the way you treated your family.’
‘Don’t be too hard on him, Miss Maude,’ Irene said when Jim was out of earshot. ‘I’m sure he had good reasons for doing what he did.’
‘Men are all the same,’ Maude retorted, pulling her mouth down at the corners. ‘They follow their own inclinations and be damned to the rest of us. And I’m not apologising for the bad language.’
‘Miss Maude,’ Irene began tentatively, ‘before the others return, I must tell you something.’
‘This will hurt a bit,’ Maude said as she eased the boot off. She stared at the rough bandage that Dora had inexpertly applied to the injured joint. ‘Whoever did this was no doctor.’
‘No, but she was kind and she meant well.’ Irene bit her lip as Maude unwound the makeshift bandage.
‘Can you move your foot?’
Irene wiggled her toes, wincing with pain. ‘Yes, but it hurts.’
‘And I’d say it was your just desserts for poking your nose in where it doesn’t belong,’ Maude said crossly. ‘Don’t put on that innocent face, miss. I can guess where you went this afternoon and I don’t imagine you walked to Romford. Anyway, I saw you drive past with that boy. I’ve seen him in the distance at the market and I’d recognise the Greenwood nose anywhere.’
‘You’re right, but I make no apology for going to Navestock. I wanted to find out if Farmer Kent was related to the people I know in London, but I had no idea that his wife was your sister.’
‘I have no sister. She is dead to me.’
‘And yet you kept her room just as it was when she lived at home.’
‘Sentimental nonsense,’ Maude snorted. ‘You have Martha to thank for keeping the room clean and aired. Dora went behind my back and married the man who should have been my husband. She bore him a son and I remain childless.’
‘But you have a nephew. He is a fine boy, but not a happy one.’
‘That isn’t my problem.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Irene angled her head. ‘I think he needs his kind aunt and his cousin Arthur, which is why I made certain that they met. If I have interfered, it was from the best of intentions. I would not deliberately upset you, especially when you have shown me nothing but kindness.’