Above the Bright Blue Sky

by Margaret Thornton

Miss Thomson shook her head a little impatiently. ‘You haven’t, not really. I know you are a good well-brought-up girl. I could tell that when I first saw you. That is why I chose you. It’s just that…I am not used to children and so…’ She looked across at Luke, who continued the speech for her.

  ‘And so…Miss Thomson and I have decided it would be better if Audrey came to live here with Patience and me, and Maisie, of course. I don’t need to consult my wife first, because I know that she will agree with me wholeheartedly. Isn’t that so, my dear?’

  Patience smiled conspiratorially at Audrey, whose beaming smile reached nearly from ear to ear, then she turned to her husband. ‘Great minds think alike, Luke. That is what we had already decided. Audrey will come and live here with us. In fact, I think she had better stay here now, then she can come to church with Maisie and me.’ She nodded across at her husband. ‘Time is creeping on, my dear.’

  ‘Quite so.’ Luke stood up. ‘If you will all excuse me, I have some things to attend to before the morning service. I am pleased it has all ended happily. Thank you, Miss Thomson.’ He inclined his head graciously towards her.

  The lady rose to her feet. ‘Thank you too, Rector. I will arrange with Daisy to bring your things across, Audrey. After morning service shall we say, Mrs Fairchild? And I must have a little talk to Daisy. I may have been rather impulsive… But I am sure she will not really want to leave me. Daisy knows on which side her bread is buttered…’ She was talking almost to herself as Patience showed her out of the front door.

  It sounds as though Amelia is having second thoughts about losing her treasure of a maid, she thought, as she watched the woman cross the village green to her house. It was most likely that she had dismissed Daisy and was now wondering what on earth she would do without her. Well, that was one problem that was between Daisy and Miss Thomson. She, Patience, had quite enough on her plate at the moment. There was a shoulder of lamb to put in the oven before they set off for church, and two little girls to see to instead of one. Maisie was abnormally subdued, but Audrey, quite on top of her own little world, did not seem to have noticed.

  After the church service had finished Patience busied herself with the lunch preparations, enlisting Maisie’s help in setting the table, whilst Audrey went across the green to assist Daisy in moving her belongings. Patience wanted to have a little chat with Maisie, on her own. She placed the potatoes in the oven to roast around the lamb joint, and diced the carrots and swedes ready for boiling, then she went into the dining room where Maisie was setting out the wooden mats and the cutlery.

  ‘Four places today, Maisie,’ she said. ‘Have you remembered? Yes, I see you have; good girl. It’s exciting, isn’t it, having your friend, Audrey, to come and live with us? It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it?’

  The girl looked up at her and nodded silently, then a tiny frown appeared between her eyebrows and she pursed her lips tightly together. Patience went across and put her arm around her. ‘But, somehow, I get the impression that you are not quite as thrilled about this as you might have been at one time. Am I right?’ She felt Maisie nod again.

  ‘Then won’t you tell me all about it, dear? What is worrying you? I promise that I won’t say a word to anyone, not even to Luke. I don’t want you to be unhappy, not about anything.’

  Maisie was silent for a moment, then she said, quietly, ‘I thought I wanted Audrey to come and live here. I did at first. An’ I do now, really, I suppose. But…it’s been so nice, Aunty Patience, hasn’t it? Just you and me and Luke. An’ I thought I was a bit special, like, an’ so I stopped thinking about Audrey coming here, ’cause I liked it just on my own. I was never special at home, y’see. Me mum was always so busy with the little ’uns, an’ she was always tired. She never had time for me… But you have, Aunty Patience. An’ I’ve been real happy here.’

  ‘Of course you are special, Maisie,’ said Patience, giving her a hug. ‘You always will be, to me and to Luke, and to your mum as well. You mustn’t think like that about her, my dear. You’ve told me about…your home, and I know your mother is sometimes not very happy. But you are special to her, because you were born out of the love that she and your father shared. Do you understand that, Maisie love? I think you do…’

  ‘Yes…’ Maisie nodded. ‘But I haven’t seen her for ages, and it’s getting hard to remember her and the kids.’

  ‘She has promised to come and see you before Christmas, hasn’t she? And I’m sure she will, very soon…’ Please God, let it be true, thought Patience, in a fervent little prayer. Lily Bragg had been promising for so long that she would come.

  ‘Try to be happy about Audrey coming here,’ Patience continued. ‘Luke and I…we have grown to love you, Maisie. But the amazing thing about love is that there is always more than enough to go round. There will be some to spare for Audrey, and we will learn to love her, too. And we will all be happy together; I feel certain of it. Now…do you feel any better?’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Maisie. ‘Yes…yes, I do. But…Aunty Patience; you know how you said me and Audrey could share a room? Well, I’ve got used to my own little room now, an’ I like being there on my own. I had to share with Joanie and Jimmy at home, an’ I hated it. An’ I think Audrey’ll want her own room an’ all. It’s nice to have your own little place, isn’t it?’

  ‘Very nice,’ agreed Patience. ‘Yes, Maisie; I understand perfectly. Audrey can have the room at the back that overlooks the garden. When we’ve had our lunch we’ll find some clean sheets and blankets and get the bed made up. Oh, here are Daisy and Audrey coming in. Off you go and give them a hand. And show Audrey which bedroom she will be having. The room at the back, next to the bathroom; that will be Audrey’s…’

  Maisie, feeling a little better about everything, went into the hallway where Daisy and Audrey were carrying various bags and parcels across the doorstep. Luke had appeared, too, from the sitting room, looking much more informal than he had a little while ago, now in his shirt sleeves and black vest, topped by his clerical collar.

  ‘I’ll take the heaviest bag for you,’ he said, ‘and this one as well.’ He picked up the bag and a paper carrier full of books. ‘Come along, Audrey. Let’s go and find your room. I think Maisie knows which one it is, don’t you, Maisie? Then I’ll leave all you young ladies to get on with things. A very big welcome to you, Audrey. We are very pleased to have you here with us.’

  ‘Thank you,’ mumbled Audrey, going rather red and obviously quite overcome with emotion, too much so to look at Luke. But she cast a covert glance at Maisie, and the two friends smiled knowingly at one another.

  Yes…Maisie nodded to herself. She had realised that she felt tons better now. Aunty Patience had a way with her of smoothing out the rough patches. She supposed Audrey, too, would soon be calling her Aunty Patience…?

  ‘This is going to be your room,’ she said when they reached the upstairs landing, pointing to the door next to the bathroom. She felt pleased that Patience had put her in charge.

  ‘I thought you and me might be sharing a room,’ said Audrey. ‘Aren’t we going to? Mrs Fairchild said…’

  ‘Oh, it was just an idea,’ replied Maisie airily. ‘My room’s only got one bed in it, y’see, so I would have to move. Besides…I like it on me own,’ she added truthfully, ‘an’ I thought you would an’ all, Audrey. Anyway, it’s what Aunty Patience and I decided would be best.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ agreed Daisy. ‘There’s nowt like a bit of privacy. There’ll be times when you want to be on yer own, kid. You make the most of it, Audrey.’

  Audrey nodded. ‘OK; I don’t mind. Actually, I’ve never shared a room and I thought it might be fun, but I’m sure this will be very nice.’ She went across to the window. ‘Oh yes…’ she said, eagerly, as she looked out. ‘What a lovely view of the back garden. And look…I can see the chimneys of the big house. It’s the one where the squire lives, isn’t it, and Bruce? And look at the hills in the distance… Oh yes, I like
it. It’s lovely.’

  ‘It is indeed,’ said Daisy, standing next to her and giving her a hug. ‘You’ve fallen on yer feet all right, kid.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a very nice view,’ said Maisie, in a matter-of-fact voice. But her room was at the front; she had a view of the village green and she could see all the comings and goings further down the High Street. Admittedly, Audrey’s room was a little larger than hers. There was enough room for two single beds, but her eagle eye noticed that it was quite sparsely furnished. A wardrobe, a dressing table (rather a plain one; it didn’t have a frill round it like the one Maisie had), and an empty bookshelf. It appeared a little gloomy, too, because the back of the house faced north and did not get the advantage of whatever sun there might be until much later in the day; which meant scarcely at all in the wintertime.

  Maisie realised she was being rather spiteful, comparing Audrey’s room unfavourably with her own, and being secretly glad that it was not as nice. To make amends she said, ‘Come on, Audrey. Let’s put all yer books on the shelf, then it’ll make it look more cheerful, like.’ Audrey had brought several books with her from Armley and had bought some more, from a second-hand stall on the market, with her spending money. ‘And I expect Aunty Patience will lend you a few ornaments and vases and things. And perhaps a nice bright cushion like she gave me. Now, let’s put your clothes in the wardrobe. See…you’ve got three drawers an’ all for your underwear and stuff.’

  Maisie’s organising abilities came to the fore, and the three of them were just getting the last garments away when Patience appeared. ‘It’s looking more like home already,’ she remarked, looking at the books on the bookshelf with Audrey’s little alarm clock, and her teddy bear sitting on the bed which, at the moment, was covered with a dreary looking grey blanket. ‘This room’s a little bit drab, I know. It’s ready for decorating, but then so are a lot of the rooms. But I’ve got a nice jolly counterpane, all coloured stripes and zig-zags, and that will brighten your bed up no end. And we’ll put a blue blanket on the other bed to make it look more cheerful. I’ve just put some clean sheets in the airing cupboard, so after we’ve had our dinner we’ll get it made up and I’ll put a hot water bottle in.’

  ‘I’d best be getting back now,’ said Daisy. ‘I’ve got to see to t’ dinner. There’s a piece o’ beef in th’ oven, but I’ve still got all t’ veg and t’ gravy to see to. Old Amelia…er, Miss Thomson,’ she amended at Patience’s sharp glance, although if she had observed her more closely she would have seen a definite twinkle in that lady’s eye. ‘Miss Thomson’ll have to make the most of it, ’cause it’ll be me last Sunday, all being well.’

  ‘What do you mean, Daisy?’ asked Patience. ‘I know Miss Thomson dismissed you, but I thought that was just her reaction, on the spur of the moment. I understood that she had asked you to stay on?’

  ‘Oh aye, she asked me all right,’ said Daisy, ‘but I said no. Not on your life! I’m not going to stay there no longer being treated no better than a bloomin’ slave. She’ll have to find another skivvy, won’t she?’

  ‘Yes, maybe she will,’ replied Patience, ‘if you mean what you say. But you have been getting quite a lot of help recently, haven’t you, Daisy?’ She looked at her quite sternly. ‘From what I gather, Audrey has been helping with many of the household chores, and that is not what was intended for these children who are our guests. They are not supposed to be used as extra servants. Maisie helps me now and again with little jobs and she makes her own bed, and I shall expect Audrey to do the same. But no more than that. What you have been doing, Daisy, was quite wrong. Whether Miss Thomson knew about it or not, I am not sure.’

  ‘She turned a blind eye,’ said Daisy. ‘She did when it suited ’er. Other times she had eyes like a bloomin’ ’awk. I’m sorry, Mrs Fairchild, honest I am. I know Audrey weren’t supposed to help, like, but I were so tired sometimes and she didn’t seem to mind. Y’see, Miss Thomson asked me if I’d look after her – Audrey, I mean – when she first come here, when t’ war started. She said would I take charge of her, like, an’ she gave me a bob or two extra in me wages. So I thought, aye why not? She’s a grand little lass. An’ we got on well, didn’t we, kid?’

  ‘Yes, we did,’ replied Audrey. She turned to Patience. ‘Like I told you, Mrs Fairchild, Daisy was kind to me. Don’t be cross with her, please.’

  ‘Very well, we will say no more about it,’ said Patience. ‘But I had no idea, Daisy, that Miss Thomson had delegated the charge of Audrey to you. That was certainly not right…’ It was, indeed, a revelation. Amelia had certainly opted out of her resposibility. What a nerve, handing the child over to her maid! It was fortunate that Daisy was a kind and good-natured young woman at heart. It could have turned out so much worse.

  ‘What do you intend to do though, Daisy?’ she asked. ‘Are you going to look for another position? I should think carefully if I were you. I know Miss Thomson is a bit of a tartar, but you might do worse. I could have a word with her; I would try to explain that she expects far too much of just one person.’

  ‘No, me mind’s made up,’ said Daisy decisively. ‘I were thinking about it before all this, an’ now I know for sure what I’m going to do…I’m going to join the ATS.’

  Patience gave a little gasp. ‘Well, that is a surprise!’ she said. The two girls looked at Daisy in amazement, Maisie with a knowing glint in her eyes as well.

  ‘Is that so you can be near yer boyfriend?’ she asked.

  Daisy laughed, shaking her head. ‘No, it ain’t; not really. I don’t suppose we’d be sent to t’ same place anyroad. No…I reckon all us young women’ll be expected to do our bit afore long if this war goes on. So I might as well join up sooner rather than later.’

  ‘But…what about Miss Thomson?’ asked Audrey.

  ‘What about her?’ laughed Daisy.

  ‘Does she know what you’re going to do?’

  ‘No, not yet. But she soon will. And what she’s going to do about it is her look-out, not mine…’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lily missed her eldest child more and more as the days and the weeks went by. She kept promising herself – and promising Maisie as well – that she would go on a day visit to the little town of Middlebeck. But already it was mid-November and she still had not been to see her daughter. She felt rather guilty about it, but it was partly circumstances that had prevented her from making the journey.

  Joanie had caught chickenpox; not badly, but it had forced her to keep the child in for a while. And then, inevitably, Jimmy had gone down with it as well. During the few weeks when the pair of them had not been able to run wild with the other children of the neighbourhood she had made a determined effort to make them behave themselves, and, also, to get them thoroughly clean and tidy and to encourage them to stay that way. They had been scrubbed clean, once their spots had receded, their hair washed and trimmed, and they had both had a selection of new clothes – at least, newish, from the church jumble sale – and sturdy shoes from a second-hand shop to replace their down-at-heel sandals.

  Jimmy, who would be three years old in January, had finally dispensed with nappies, to his mother’s great relief, and with this achievement he had seemed, suddenly, to become a little boy – a much more lovable one – and not a whining baby. Joanie had just turned four years old and she, too, had stopped wetting the bed. Lily was convinced that her earlier lapses had occurred because, in her own childish mind, she was competing with her baby brother for attention. Now, to Lily’s amazement, she finally seemed to be making headway with both her young children.

  She had known she must get the upper hand with them before going to see Maisie. She would, of course, have to take the children with her. There was no question of her leaving them behind with Sid. He would not want to look after them, much as he reminded her that they were his children, and neither would she consider asking him, even for one day. The husband and wife hardly spoke to one another now.

  It sounded to Lily as th
ough Maisie had done really well for herself with her lodgings in Middlebeck. A reverend gentleman, of all things, and his wife, a woman called Patience who, from Maisie’s letters, seemed to be quite a paragon. Lily felt rather envious of her on occasions, at the same time being relieved that her daughter was in good hands and was so obviously happy there. Maisie did write in her letters that she missed her, which touched her very much. Occasionally she made mention of her younger sister and brother, although Lily guessed this was more out of duty than true concern. But she never referred to either Sid or Percy.

  Lily had realised, to her shame, that she could not take two scruffy badly behaved children to visit what she thought of as Maisie’s posh guardians up in north Yorkshire. Not only would she, Lily, feel ashamed of them, she knew that Maisie would as well, and she did not want to let her eldest child down. She knew only too well that she had allowed herself to become dispirited and careless of her appearance, trapped as she was in a hopeless marriage. And so, as well as taking her two little ruffians in hand, Lily had made an effort to sort herself out as well. She did not want to arrive in Middlebeck – if she ever managed to get there – looking dowdy and shabby and middle-aged. She treated herself, out of her ‘charing’ money to a fashionable dark red coat, only a little worn at the collar and cuffs, from the second-hand shop, and a perky little hat with a feather on the brim to match. Her new jumper and flared skirt, also a pair of black patent leather shoes with only a slight crack in them, came from a jumble sale. All this finery, though, did not look right with the thick lisle stockings she normally wore. And so she spent a precious two shillings on a pair of pure silk ones. The local draper’s shop had recently had a small allocation, which the proprietress told her would be the last for goodness knows how long.

  Her hair had not been cut for ages. Lily could not afford to have it cut properly at a hairdresser’s, but then neither could most women that she knew. Occasionally, if it became too straggly she lopped the ends off herself. Most of the time now she bundled it into a sort of roll around her head, which was a little tidier than having it hanging loose, but was not very becoming.