‘That young man seems very full of himself,’ Agnes remarked, looking back over her shoulder. Rob Chadwick stood watching them, his arms folded across his burly chest.
‘Aye, he is.’ Carrie kept her gaze pointing resolutely forward, her lips tight.
‘He’s an old friend of yours, you say?’
Carrie paused for a moment. ‘We were sweethearts once,’ she said. ‘We were supposed to be married. But then he left the village and broke my heart.’
Agnes stared at her. ‘When was this?’
‘Three years ago.’
Agnes looked back across the field. Rob had joined another group of men, his golden head bobbing above theirs.
‘And now he’s come back,’ she said.
‘Aye.’
There was something about the way Carrie said it that made Agnes glance sideways at her. Carrie looked desolate, as if there was a part of her heart that had still not healed.
Agnes understood that feeling all too well.
‘I had a sweetheart too, once,’ she said.
She didn’t know why she had uttered the words. Daniel was a memory she had kept to herself for so long, it felt strange to talk about him.
Carrie’s blue eyes widened. ‘Who was he?’
‘He was a junior doctor at the hospital where I did my training. We were supposed to be married, too.’
It was an old story, a student nurse falling in love with a young doctor. Most of the girls in her set had done the same, some several times over. Nearly all these attachments had ended up in tears or drama, with the poor heartbroken girl being consoled in the nurses’ home when her doctor admirer moved on to someone else.
But it was different for Agnes and Daniel. Right from the start they had fitted together, like two halves of the same whole. Everyone knew they were one of the few couples who would end up living happily ever after.
And then …
‘Did he break it off, like Rob did?’ Carrie enquired.
‘No, I did.’
‘Why?’
Agnes had a sudden picture of her mother standing over her, the day she discovered Agnes was pregnant.
‘Of course Daniel must marry you,’ she had said briskly. ‘We’ll organise the wedding as soon as possible, then when the child is born we can say there was some confusion with the dates.’
‘There isn’t going to be a wedding.’
Her mother had stared at her, horror written all over her face. ‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘I don’t want to marry him.’
‘Don’t be silly, of course you must be married,’ her mother had dismissed Agnes’ objection. ‘Daniel is to blame for all this mess, and now he must do the right thing by you.’
But Agnes had never told him about the baby. Instead she had broken off the engagement and left the hospital, never to see him again. But even as she faced her mother’s wrath, Agnes had known she had done the right thing. ‘I made a mistake,’ she said sadly.
Carrie looked as if she wanted to probe further, but Agnes was saved by the brass band striking up to mark the start of the parade.
Agnes felt her heart swell as she watched the ranks of men marching round the field, hundreds of them, heads held high, banners flying aloft. As the Bowden men went past, she was surprised by the hot tears of pride that sprang to her eyes. She knew the men’s names, recognised their faces. She had witnessed the struggles they went through every day. Their weary determination was written all over their faces.
The people of Bowden might not have taken her to their hearts, but she had certainly taken them to hers.
The parade ended, and the men started to disperse, most of them going off to enjoy the beer that was being served in one of the tents.
‘It’s too hot to stand out here,’ Agnes said to Carrie. ‘I’m going to look for some shade.’
‘Aren’t you staying for the tug-of-war?’
Agnes looked at her. ‘Are you?’
‘I thought I might as well.’ Carrie shrugged, turning her gaze away.
It’s nothing to do with you, Agnes Sheridan, she told herself as she walked away. For all you know, it could be an innocent friendship. But she had the feeling there was nothing innocent in Rob Chadwick’s intentions.
She only hoped Carrie Shepherd knew what she was doing.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Agnes made another slow circuit of the fairground, then bought herself an ice cream from the hokey-pokey man and sat under a tree to eat it, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face.
Then she made her way slowly back to the field. The tug-of-war had finished and the next race was being set up. Agnes saw Carrie with her three sisters, laughing together on the other side of the field. They were a handsome family, the four girls all as radiantly pretty as one another.
They looked so happy together, Agnes decided to let them be. Instead she wandered over to the competition ring, where the contestants were preparing for a three-legged race. Elsie Stanhope, standing close to the start line, watching her two brothers tying their legs together.
‘They won’t let me join in,’ she told Agnes sadly. ‘I told Chris I’m a faster runner than our Billy, but he says I’ll hold him back because I’m a girl.’
‘Is that right?’ Carrie glared across the field at Christopher Stanhope. ‘You don’t want to take any notice of him, Elsie. Girls are every bit as good at running as boys.’
‘That’s not what Chris says.’
‘Then perhaps you should show him?’
‘How can I, when I don’t have a partner? Unless …’ Elsie looked up at her. ‘Would you, miss?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘Oh, no, I can’t. I haven’t run in a race since I was at school.’
‘You could do it, miss. Please?’
‘Really, I shouldn’t—’
‘Go on, Nurse.’ Mrs Willis, who was standing close by, grinned at her. ‘You can’t disappoint the lass, surely?’
Agnes looked from one to the other. She was about to refuse when she saw the bright hope on Elsie’s face.
‘Oh, why not?’ said Agnes ‘But I’m warning you, I’ll probably fall over.’
She began to regret her decision as she and Elsie hobbled to the starting line, arms around each other. Mrs Willis had spread the word, and quite a crowd had gathered to watch her.
‘Go on, Nurse! You show ’em!’ someone cried out.
‘A halfpenny on t’nurse to win!’ someone else said.
Soon the comments were flying thick and fast. Agnes gave an embarrassed smile, glad that Dr Rutherford and Mrs Bannister were not there to witness the scene. She couldn’t think what Miss Gale would make of it, either. It was hardly dignified behaviour for a district nurse.
‘On your marks, get set … go!’ Suddenly it was chaos. Everyone else seemed to get off to a flying start, while Agnes and Elsie set off on the wrong foot and somehow managed to stumble over each other. Agnes could hear the cheers and jeers coming from the crowd as they picked themselves up and started again.
This time they managed to fall into pace with each other, and soon they were catching the other contestants up. They even managed to overtake a couple, including Elsie’s brothers. She shrieked with delight as they ran past them, and Agnes couldn’t resist a grin over her shoulder at Christopher’s outraged face.
That’ll teach you to steal my cap, she thought.
The finishing line was in sight. The winner had already broken through the rope, but Agnes and Elsie were heading for third place. Just another few yards, and then—Christopher Stanhope came sprinting out of nowhere, half carrying his squealing brother, whose little legs pumped to keep up with Christopher’s long strides. As they passed, Christopher put a foot in Agnes’ path, tripping her up. The next thing, the rope bonding her to Elsie had come untied, Agnes’ feet had left the ground and she was flying headlong. She put out her hands to break her fall, but instead of hitting the ground she suddenly felt a pair of strong arms catch and hold her.
Agnes looked up in dismay to find herself staring into the face of Seth Stanhope.
He looked as shocked as she felt as he held her close to him. For an unguarded second they could only stare at each other, her hands resting against the muscular wall of his chest. His grey eyes were ringed with bright green, Agnes noticed.
Then they both seemed to recall themselves at the same moment, pushing away from each other and stepping apart self-consciously.
‘Are you all right, miss?’ Elsie came up to Agnes, her round face full of concern.
‘I’m fine, thank you.’
‘Nowt damaged then?’ Seth said gruffly.
‘Only my pride!’ She smiled sheepishly. When she looked up, she was surprised to see he was smiling too.
‘You’ve lost your hat,’ Elsie pointed out.
‘Have I?’ Agnes put her hand up to her head. Her hair had come loose from its pins and flowed over her shoulders.
‘It’s over here.’ Seth picked it up from the ground, dusted it off and handed it to her. As she took it, their hands brushed and she felt a sudden, alarming pull of attraction.
Seth must have felt it too. He snatched his hand away from hers as if he’d had an electric shock.
‘Can I go and look at the gallopers, Dad?’ Elsie interrupted them, breaking the tension.
‘Aye,’ Seth said, but he didn’t move.
‘Will you come?’
‘Nay.’ Seth seemed to pull himself together, shaking his head. ‘I can’t, lass. I’ve got to have a word with someone.’
He looked around vaguely. He was making excuses, Agnes could tell. Anything so he didn’t have to spend time with his own children.
The thought was enough to vanquish any attraction she might have felt for him.
‘Why don’t I come with you?’ she said to Elsie. ‘I might even find a penny for you to have a ride, how about that?’
Elsie’s face lit up. ‘Could I?’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Seth muttered. ‘We don’t want charity.’
‘For heaven’s sake!’ Agnes snapped back at him. ‘It’s my money and I’m allowed to spend it how I choose. Or are you telling me I can’t?’
Their eyes met again, but this time there was no warmth in Seth’s stormy gaze.
‘Tha can please thysen,’ he muttered.
It was a relief once they started arguing again. Seth felt himself on safer ground, feeling anger towards the nurse, reminding himself what an outspoken busybody she was.
It was far more comfortable than the sensation he’d had when he had briefly held her in his arms.
It was the crowd that had drawn him over to the ring, wondering why so many had gathered to watch a children’s three-legged race.
‘It’s t’nurse, racing with your Elsie,’ Reg Willis had laughed, a glass of beer in his hand. ‘She’s a game lass, I’ll say that for her.’
‘Aye.’ Even when Reg pointed her out, Seth still hadn’t recognised Agnes. She looked so young and pretty in her flowery cotton dress, her chestnut hair flying loose about her shoulders, like one of the village girls.
And then his son had barged past and tripped her, and without thinking Seth had stepped into her path to catch her in his arms before she fell.
He felt the heat rising in him at the memory. It had been so long since he had held a woman close to him, he had forgotten what it was like. It was the only excuse he could give for the tug of attraction he had felt then, his hands on the curve of her hips, breathing in the scent of her skin.
He watched her walking away beside Elsie. She was pinning her hat back in place. He found himself thinking about the softness of her hair against his cheek.
‘What’s she doing with our Elsie?’
Seth started at the sound of Hannah’s girlish voice behind him, pulling him out of his reverie. ‘T’nurse is taking her on the gallopers.’
‘Is she now? I would have taken Elsie, if she’d asked.’ Hannah sounded offended. ‘Nurse’s got no business, sticking her nose in.’
‘I daresay she means no harm.’
Hannah sent him an accusing look. ‘You’ve changed your tune, Seth Stanhope. You didn’t have a good word to say about her a few weeks since. Or have you forgotten how she turned up at the picket line, making a fool of you in front of the other men?’
Seth’s mouth firmed at the memory. ‘Nay, I haven’t.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Hannah said. ‘If I were you, I’d give that lass a wide berth. You don’t need someone like her, bringing you trouble.’
‘Aye,’ Seth said, his gaze still fixed on the slender, chestnut-haired figure. ‘Aye, I reckon you might be right.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
May Edcott was being crowned Gala Queen, and Eliza was furious about it.
‘It in’t fair,’ she fumed, as they watched last year’s queen place the crown of flowers on May’s head. ‘I’m much prettier than she is. And look at those fat ankles!’ She turned on Carrie. ‘This is all your fault.’
‘Me?’ Carrie was shocked. ‘How do you work that out?’
‘Well, it stands to reason, doesn’t it? They’re not going to make me Gala Queen because I’m related to the pit manager.’
‘And there was I, thinking it was because you look like a heifer!’ Hattie muttered.
‘And you can shut up, too,’ Eliza snapped, swinging round to face her.
‘At least you can be one of her maids-in-waiting,’ Carrie said, trying to placate them both.
Eliza lifted her chin. ‘I’ve a good mind not to do it,’ she said haughtily. ‘The last thing I want to do is trail round after May Edcott all day, listening to her showing off!’
‘She won’t say no,’ Hattie whispered, as Eliza stalked off. ‘You watch, she’ll be on that float next to May in a couple of minutes, trying to get her face in all the pictures.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I suppose I’d better go and keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t try to tear that crown off May’s head!’
‘Can I take Henry on the shuggy boats?’ Gertie asked Carrie.
‘If you like. But don’t let him go too high, will you?’ Carrie called after her sister as she headed off with the pram. ‘And don’t be too long, either. I’ll need to take him home soon. It’s getting too hot for him to be out.’
She watched Gertie disappear into the sea of people, clutching Henry by the hand, his plump little legs toddling beside her. It was a scorching day, and Carrie could feel rivulets of perspiration running down inside her dress. She usually loved the sunshine, but this time its brightness made her feel dizzy.
She sought out the cool shade of the tent, where the mothers were gathering for the bonny baby competition. Carrie sank down on a bale of hay at the back to watch them preening their babies, adjusting bonnets and fastening bows, and spitting on handkerchiefs to clean grubby faces.
It gave her a pang, thinking about the previous year, when she and James had come to the gala together. He had been welcome then, everyone nodding a greeting to them as they walked around the fair, a happy young couple with their newborn son.
James had insisted on holding Henry in his arms, showing him all the sideshows, even though he was barely four months old and couldn’t take in anything but the sounds and colours.
‘You’re wasting your time, you know,’ Carrie had laughed when James insisted on demonstrating how to hook a duck on one of the stalls. ‘He can’t understand a word you’re saying.’
‘How can you say that?’ James had stared at her in mock outrage. ‘My son happens to think I’m very wise. Look at that rapt expression on his face. Or, of course, it might just be wind,’ he added ruefully.
Then they had come to the tent where the bonny baby competition was being judged, and Mrs Morris had smiled and said, ‘You’ll have to enter your bairn next year, Mr Shepherd.’
‘Indeed we will, Mrs Morris,’ James had replied, so proud of his wife and son he looked fit to burst.
They had been so happy a
nd in love then. It was hard to believe that a year later they were scarcely speaking to each other.
Now Carrie barely recognised her husband as that same smiling young man who had carried his baby around the fair and made her laugh. James moved like a ghost around the house these days, largely staying out of her way. On the rare occasions they did meet, he was tense and taciturn.
Carrie was so worried about him; she had long since forgotten her anger with him for the evictions he had ordered. The lockout weighed heavily on him, making him look haggard and older than his years. He barely seemed to eat or sleep these days. Carrie longed to comfort him, but there was such a chasm between them she didn’t know how.
She saw Rob Chadwick enter the tent and sat back, trying to retreat into the shadows. But it was too much to hope that he wouldn’t see her.
‘Hello again.’ He plonked himself down on the bale next to her.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t know you were interested in the bonny baby competition?’
He grinned. ‘I just wanted to get out of the sun for a while. It’s fair baking out there.’ He took off his cap and wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve.
‘And there was I, thinking you’d come to see Ellen Kettle?’ Carrie nodded to where Ellen was primping the ruffles on her baby son’s bonnet. She caught Rob’s eye and gave him a sly smile.
Rob sighed. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, I in’t interested in Ellen Kettle?’
‘She likes you.’
‘That’s her lookout, not mine.’ He nodded towards the mothers gathered on the platform. ‘Is your bairn in the competition?’
Carrie felt another pang, thinking about last year. She shook her head. ‘Our Gertie’s taken him to look round the fair.’
‘Shame. With looks like yours he’d be bound to win. Unless he takes after his father?’ he grinned.
‘Shut up about his father!’ Carrie turned on Rob. ‘If you haven’t got anything nice to say, you can go and bother someone else!’
He blinked at her in surprise. ‘Keep your hair on, I were only having a laugh.’
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