Fibber, I thought, I bet you forgot and plan to go to the town on Monday and buy something. I gave him a sneer to let him know that I’d seen through his lying words. He gave me a sneer back and lifted up the folded newspaper Mother had been reading, ready to hit me about the head. Our Billy never missed an opportunity for bullying. But I felt reckless that night, upset with what had happened and anxious to pass that upset around. “Don’t believe him,” I muttered. “He hasn’t got anything.”
Billy opened his mouth to answer me but I continued with a stupid grin on my face, “He’s been too busy thinking about lasses. You should have seen him at the picnic with…”
My sentence was cut off abruptly as Billy growled, “Shut up, you,” his little brown eyes darkening, “and mind your business.” He gave me a scowl and his fingers tightened on the paper. “Anyway, where’s your present? We haven’t seen that yet.”
I could feel Mother and Elizabeth staring at me. “Richard?” said Mother, “you didn’t forget, did you?”
“I might have.”
Elizabeth smiled gently. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got plenty of lovely gifts.”
“Don’t let him off that easy.” Billy laughed, but the laugh was mirthless. “He’s a mean young bugger. He wants to save his money for going out with his fancy friends from the grammar. He needs a telling off.” And putting words into deeds with cruel suddenness, he leant over the table and smacked the newspaper across my ear. It was only a sting, which normally I’d have ignored but maddened by all that had happened that evening, I threw back my chair and ran round the table to grab him.
“Bastard!” I shouted, pulling him off his chair and onto the floor. We often had these little scraps, it meant nothing, simply the sort of thing that lads did, but this night I was out of control. I curled my thin hands into sharp bony fists and pummelled him. He grunted with pain as one hit got him on the point of his nose and a spurt of blood shot out and sprayed into my face.
“What’s the matter, you stupid bugger,” he yelled, surprised, I think, by the unexpected retaliation and struggled to gain his usual upper hand. We wrestled and punched, rolling over and over until eventually he fastened one fiercely strong hand round my neck and started to choke me. How I thrashed and flailed about, kicking my legs until they crashed into the kitchen table. Above my cries and Billy’s grunts I could hear the cups and saucers rattling and out of the corner of my eye, saw the milk jug roll off the table and shatter on the floor beside us. My struggle was all in vain. Try as I might, I couldn’t release Billy’s hands from their deadly grip.
“Stop it!” yelled Mother quite terrified, trying desperately to pull us apart. I was beginning to lose consciousness when suddenly, I was blinded by a great shower of water and our Billy’s hand loosed its hold. As I blinked the water away I saw Elizabeth standing over us with the mop-bucket that she had filled from the trough in the yard. “You’re mad, both of you,” she yelled, “and I hate you. You’ve spoilt my birthday.”
Even now, after all these years, I feel ashamed. It was an awful thing to do and my old cheeks burn with the memory. I can see my seventeen-year-old self, gawky, snuffling and scrambling up from the floor, tears in my eyes and blood splattered over my best white shirt. “Sorry,” I muttered my voice hoarse, for the effort of speaking was painful. I think our Billy would have killed me, if we’d struggled further. “Sorry,” I whispered again and pushing through the debris of chair legs and water, ran out of the room.
“’T’was only a bit of fun,” I heard Billy grunt carelessly as I went out of the door. “Our Dick and me are the best of pals. You know that, Mother. And you too, Elizabeth.”
Outside, the night was dark and cool and a light rain had begun to fall, plastering my hair to my throbbing head and mingling with the hot tears that now ran, uncontrolled, down my cheeks. What a fool I’d made of myself. Fighting Billy was always a mistake, I’d had cause to regret that on more than one occasion, but this business with Elizabeth and Johnny Lowe had really floored me. I’d had no idea before, that I felt like that about her. She was part of the family, a cousin, a sister, as close as that. But of course she wasn’t really. Nothing of the sort. I suppose that was the moment that I knew for certain, that I loved her. Even the callow and inexperienced youth that I was, and barely understanding what I was experiencing, I recognised the most important emotion that I would ever feel.
I was right. Through all the years and disappointments that followed, the times when I was angry and despaired of the things she did, I never stopped being totally and utterly in love with my Elizabeth.
But then, stupid boy that I was, this emotion was new and confusing and I didn’t know how to handle it. All I knew was that I had wanted to please her more than anyone else in the world and that I had let the opportunity go.
“Richard?” She was walking across the yard towards me, the light from the open kitchen door behind her and her hair, released from the blue band with which she’d tied it back for the party, flowing like a cloud around her head. “Richard?” she repeated, a puzzled note in her voice, “that wasn’t like you.”
“No,” I muttered, turning my back on her and clumsily wiping the tears from my face. “Sorry.”
She stood so close beside me that I could smell the faint perfume of the lavender water in which she’d rinsed her hair. “You know,” she said, “there’s nothing between me and Johnny Lowe. We’re just pals, like we all are.”
How did she know that I was upset about that? Had I shown myself to be jealous? Oh God, what a fool I must have seemed at the party. I couldn’t look at her and couldn’t speak.
She put a hand on my arm. “Come in now and make friends. Billy has got over it and your mother doesn’t want you to go to bed upset.”
Did she know about it too? Mother? I was ready to run into the village and get on the first train that stopped. The embarrassment was too hard to bear.
“Your mother says it doesn’t matter if you haven’t bought me a present and you know I don’t mind. Having the lovely swimming party was enough.”
I let out a breath of relief then. If Mother thought I was only upset about the gift then at least I could show my face again in the kitchen.
“Come on,” Elizabeth pulled at my sleeve, “let’s go inside and you can give me your shirt to put into some salt water. That blood will stain, if you leave it much longer.”
There was nothing else to do. I couldn’t stay in the yard all night, I would look like a bigger fool, so I allowed myself to be turned and walked beside her back to the house. Just before we got to the door, I stopped. “I did get you a present,” I said still not looking at her but gazing at the damp patches on the cobbles beneath my shoes. “I just didn’t find the right time to give it to you.”
“Did you, Richard? That’s really kind of you.”
Her voice in the still night was innocently happy and I loved her more for not making fun of me. I turned to face her and taking the little tissue paper parcel out of my trouser pocket, put it into her hand. “Here. Happy birthday, Elizabeth.”
The rain had stopped and the clouds that had covered the nearly full moon drifted away, so that we could see each other in light that was almost as bright as day. I watched nervously as she undid the tissue paper and revealed the necklace.
“Oh! It’s lovely!” she breathed and held it up to the moonlight. The silver links gleamed a pale cold colour and the blue beads seemed as dark as midnight. “I love it!” she said, true excitement in her voice and then, “thank you, Richard for choosing this. Nobody in the whole world, except you, could have found something that would please me so well.”
The relief, the happiness I felt then is indescribable. I was so glad that I hadn’t given it to her before. It was better this way, just between ourselves. It made the gift seem all the more precious. I grinned. “I thought you might like it,” I said, the words tumbling from my mouth in relief and I was going on to tell her about the gypsy but she stopped me with a finger over my lips.
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“Put your face down,” she ordered and as I lowered my head to hers, she reached up and put her mouth on mine. Our kiss was long and heartfelt. It was my first, as I remember, but I had enough sense to savour every moment, putting my arms around her soft body and drawing her close to me. Owls hooted, and a fox barked somewhere in the copse beyond the nine-acre field, but otherwise the earth stopped spinning and time stood still.
How long we might have stood there, I don’t know. Elizabeth gave no sign of pulling away and I could have stayed with my arms wrapped around her forever.
She put her lips to my ear. “You mustn’t be jealous, Richard,” she breathed, “you know I love you better than anyone else.”
I was dizzy with happiness. Elizabeth loved me and was to be mine. All her other followers were of no account. She had chosen me.
“What are you two doing out there?” It was Mother at the kitchen door and I sprang away from Elizabeth as though I’d been stung. She moved more slowly and looked round gently towards the yellow light that outlined Mother’s thickening figure.
“We’re just coming,” she said lightly, “Our Dick has got over his bit of temper now and wants his supper. Don’t you?” She looked back up at me and smiled.
If this was a ploy to fool Mother, it didn’t work, for when I stumbled uneasily through the door, she gave me a look that left me in doubt that she wasn’t pleased with my behaviour. She had seen the kiss, had probably been standing at the door for a while before she spoke, and had not liked what she saw.
Oh, Mother, you were so wrong in what you did. Why couldn’t you have left well alone?
Chapter 10
Sharon has gone out tonight to a Summer Ball and I’m left with the baby sitter. The pretence is that the girl, Linda Parry, is looking after Thomas, but I know that I am also part of her remit. She has already been into my room twice offering cups of tea and sandwiches. I’ve refused, but nicely, because it has been kindly done and I wouldn’t want Sharon to be upset. Young Linda is as nervous of me as I am of her so we have decided on a sort of armed truce. I won’t bother her and I hope she won’t bother me.
Sharon looked a picture going out. Her red hair was pinned up and she wore a long pale green dress with a skirt that floated as she walked and a tight bodice, which showed off her tanned shoulders. I liked to see her dressed up. Normally she wears jeans and T-shirts and marches around the house and yard in built up training shoes. I hadn’t realised that she had such dainty feet until I saw them tonight encased in gold high heeled sandals.
“You look nice, Mummy,” said Thomas as she gave us a twirl in the kitchen to show off her outfit. “Doesn’t she, Mr Richard?”
I nodded. “Yes. Charming. Quite lovely.” Oh, but she does have a look of the Major. I can see him now with those fine drawn cheek bones and intelligent blue eyes. I know Mother thought him a handsome man and I suppose he was. Sharon is a pretty woman and I’m not the only one who thinks so. She has followers.
“You know where I am, if you want me,” she said picking up her little beaded handbag, “and I’ve given Linda all the phone numbers.” She looked at me and Thomas as though we were the same age and frowned. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“For goodness sake, go,” I growled. “We’ll manage perfectly, won’t we, son?”
Thomas was leaning against my shoulder, eating a lolly ice that dripped unnoticed by him onto my shoes. I didn’t mind. That child is such a joy to have about this old and dreary house. “We’re going to watch the telly, Mr Richard and me,” he said. “There’s a programme about cars. We’ll like that.”
Sharon looked anxious. “Make sure that you don’t tire Mr Richard out and I’ve told Linda what time you go to bed. You’ll be a good boy for me? Promise?”
Jason Hyde knocked on the back door then and she went. They looked wonderful, young and full of life. I was almost envious.
Now Thomas is in bed and fast asleep and I’m looking over what I wrote the other day, feeling happy and sad at the same time. Those words I’ve written are strange. True memory I think, but then, could I have really remembered owls hooting and foxes barking when I was so wrapped up with Elizabeth? Maybe I’m only adding impressions of what might have been, but I don’t think so. That night stands out in my mind as clear as a picture.
I went to bed in a daze after the late supper that Mother had put on the table and watched us eat. She’d seen the kiss and I could tell, from the way that her shoulders twitched and the way that she set her mouth, that she hadn’t approved. I glanced at her nervously from the side of my eye as I picked at the plate of cold beef and bread she had set before me. Normally, my appetite knew no bounds; I was a growing boy and would eat everything on offer. But this night, I could barely swallow a mouthful. My heart seemed so full that I had no room in my body for food. Mother clucked her tongue as she took the plate away and poured a cup of tea for me.
“Drink this and then go straight to bed, Richard,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically cold. “I don’t want you coming down with something.”
The only thing that I was in danger of coming down with was love and I knew that was what she meant. “Yes Mother,” I said gulping at the hot tea, ignoring the pain as it burnt my gullet, so anxious was I to get away from her disapproving eyes.
Elizabeth behaved as though nothing had happened. She chattered away about the picnic and what the other girls wore and how generous everyone had been with their gifts. She brought out the blue and silver necklace from her pocket and held it up. “Dick gave me this,” her voice was sweet and breathy, “isn’t he kind?”
The silver gleamed in the smoky light of the kitchen oil lamps. We hadn’t had the electricity put in then, that came later that year after I’d gone. I loved those lamps. No doubt the electricity was more efficient and time saving but never as beautiful. Our lamps with their milky glass domes threw a light across a room that was so calm and comforting that I always see my childhood illuminated in that way. So when Elizabeth held up the necklace, it was shown off to its best advantage.
“Very nice,” said Mother. “Cost him a pretty penny, I dare say.” She didn’t ask to handle it as she had done Johnny Lowe’s watch, but I didn’t mind. Somehow, her hands on it would have detracted from its importance.
“That’s champion,” said Billy generously. He had no malice in him now after our spat. He’d already forgotten it. He jerked his fork in the direction of the necklace. “I knew he was getting you something. He told me. Good choice, I think. Those blue stones match your eyes.”
They did. As I looked from the necklace to Elizabeth’s face, I knew I’d chosen well.
“And don’t forget,” Billy added, wiping bread and butter round his plate and shovelling the last crumbs into his mouth, “Your present from me is on its way. Next week.” He pushed back his chair and went over to the door by the scullery where his working boots stood ready. “There’s a cow ready to calf, Mother. I’m just going out to look at her. Leave the back door for me.”
Alone in the bedroom I’d always shared with my brother, I went over the events of the evening. My thoughts were all of the necklace and the result it produced. How clever I had been and how lucky I now was to have a girlfriend. Seventeen and a half years old and I knew everything. Did I picture the future? I’m sure not. Young men think only of the present day. So, as far as I was concerned, my life would continue along its set lines, school over and now university and then a job of some sort. The only difference was that Elizabeth was mine and we had a relationship to explore. Even Mother’s obvious misgivings could be set aside. She’d simply have to get used to the idea that I was grown up.
I slept deeply and with a contentment I hadn’t experienced before. So much so that I didn’t hear our Billy coming in, although he must have. His bedding was wrinkled and tossed aside when I woke up. He was already in the milking parlour.
Fred Darlington knocked at the kitchen door when we were eating breakfast.
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��I fancy a couple of days in Snowdonia,” he said. Mother poured him a cup of tea and put another piece of bacon into the frying pan.
“Why don’t you come with me? We can stay at my Uncle David’s and have some good climbing.”
Normally I’d have jumped at the offer. We’d had several weekends at his Uncle David’s in Llanberis and had climbed most of the prominent peaks in the area. I loved mountaineering, although I was an amateur and that term should not rightly have been applied to me. The struggle to get to a summit and the exultant feeling that surged through me when I stood on the top was something never bettered. Until now.
I was still thinking about how to let him down when Mother put her oar in. “I think a couple of days in the mountains will do you good, Richard. You’ve been looking a bit out of sorts lately.”
If she thought I was ailing, then this was the first I’d heard of it. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever felt better. “I’m all right,” I said, giving Mother a frown, “but I’m needed on the farm. There’s a lot to do.”
Billy came in then for his breakfast. If anyone looked low that day it was him. His usual high colour was absent and he had dark circles under his eyes. I wasn’t surprised really, he must have been up all night with the calving and our Billy did love his sleep. He slid into his place at the head of the table and poured himself a mug of tea.
“Morning, Fred,” he muttered and nodded to Mother to show that he was ready for his breakfast.
“Richard’s been kindly invited for a few days in the mountains. I think he should go.” Mother spoke with her back to me as she was dishing bacon and eggs onto Billy’s plate. “You don’t need him about the yard, this weekend, do you?”
“No. Nothing much doing.”
“But…” I searched for excuses. How could I go away now, when something so wonderful had just been added to my life? I wanted to take Elizabeth up onto the hillside and have another go at kissing her. I wanted her to tell me how much she loved me and how I had always been the one for her but had been too shy to tell me before. I looked round the room and craned my neck to peer through the window. I hadn’t seen her yet, this morning. Trying to sound casual, I turned to Billy.
The Love of a Lifetime Page 11