Fairfield Hall
Page 15
Richard and Phoebe Webster glanced at each other before the vicar cleared his throat and said, ‘Two of the three tenanted farms are vacant and the third is likely to be so very shortly. Mr Jackson will fill you in.’ He seemed reluctant to say more.
Annabel was puzzled but she nodded and accepted the offer of a cup of tea before going in search of Ben.
‘I’ve just got back from town,’ he greeted her when she met him in the street. ‘And I’ve sent the telegram. If there’s a reply, they’ll deliver it to the big house.’
Annabel raised her eyebrows. ‘You think there might not be?’
He shrugged. ‘No knowing where his lordship might be. The Army’s a law unto itself.’
‘Quite. But surely they’d see he got the news somehow? Ah well, we’ve done our best.’
‘How is Lady Fairfield?’
‘Poorly. Very poorly, but she’s warm and nourished now and the doctor has promised to call again today. How is everyone in the village? The Cartwrights’ baby?’
Now Ben smiled. ‘Thriving – thanks to you.’
Annabel flapped her hand, brushing away his compliments, and changed the subject swiftly. ‘I’d like to visit the tenant farmers today, but Mr Webster tells me there’s only one farm occupied. Why is that?’
Ben took a deep breath. ‘The Chadwicks are at Blackbird Farm.’ He paused briefly to explain. ‘All the farms have bird names, m’lady – except, of course, Home Farm.’
‘Go on.’
‘They’ve just given notice that they’re leaving.’
‘Where are they going?’
Ben’s voice was heavy as he said, ‘Same place where the Broughtons from Chaffinch Farm have gone.’
‘To another estate, you mean?’
Sadly, Ben shook his head. ‘No, m’lady. The Broughtons are in the town workhouse and the Chadwicks’ll be following them any day now.’
Twenty-Three
Annabel stared at Ben in shocked dismay. Huskily, she whispered, ‘No, oh no! You mean that my husband has allowed his tenants to sink to such depths that there’s nowhere else for them to go but the – the workhouse?’
‘I doubt he knows. Since his brother died last year and Master James inherited the title – and the estate – he’s hardly been here. His mother’s too frail to take on the responsibility and as for his sister –’ he hesitated and Annabel prompted gently.
‘Go on. Whatever you say will go no further, I promise you.’
Ben nodded, sure now that whatever he told her would not be repeated. She had proved that already. He’d watched how she manipulated conversations so that she gave nothing away.
‘You’ve probably seen it for yourself by now. Lady Dorothea’s only interest is in the house and her son’s inheritance.’
‘Yes, I have, but what I don’t understand is that if she’s so concerned about her son inheriting, why is she not anxious that the estate should be profitable?’
He sighed. ‘Things have got so bad that I don’t think she can handle it. No doubt she does want the estate for him, if possible, but her main ambition is to see him as Lord Fairfield in a grand house.’
‘But she can hardly have one without the other. Where would his income come from?’
To this, Ben had no answer.
‘And the third farm?’
‘Sparrow Farm. Now, they did go away to relatives, I believe. Certainly, they’re not in the workhouse.’
Annabel shuddered. ‘And nor will anyone else from here be in such a place for much longer.’ She stood up quickly. ‘Come, we’ll go to see the Chadwicks. Tell them they needn’t leave.’
Ben was smiling as he stood up. He liked this feisty young woman. She had given him real hope.
When they drew into the farmyard at Blackbird Farm, the place seemed deserted already.
‘Whom am I about to meet, Ben?’
‘There’s only Jim Chadwick and his wife, Mary, now. They had two daughters but they both married and moved away.’
‘And they’ve been running the farm between them?’
‘They employed men from the village, but, of course, they haven’t been able to pay them any wages recently, so—’
‘Couldn’t they have gone to one of their daughters instead of – instead of . . .?’ Annabel couldn’t bring herself to stay the dreaded word.
‘Too proud to ask.’ He smiled. ‘Jim is a grand fellow – big, burly and always cheerful – but he has a saying and he lives by it.’ Ben lapsed into the local dialect as he quoted the farmer. ‘“Ya dorn’t see the chicks scratching for the owd hen”.’
Annabel was smiling as she climbed down from the trap, but when Jim Chadwick appeared at the back door, her smile faded. The man standing there bore no resemblance to the farmer whom Ben had described. He was tall, but now he stooped a little and, yet again, as she had seen so often, his well-worn clothes hung loosely on his thin frame.
‘Come to see us off, ’ave ya, Ben? That’s decent of you.’ His eyes went to Annabel and his murmured greeting to her was stiff and formal and bore none of the friendly tone that had been in his voice when he’d spoken to the estate bailiff. ‘M’lady.’
Annabel remembered now that she had seen this man sitting in church with a thin, nervous little woman at his side. She moved forward and held out her hand. ‘Mr Chadwick. I’m pleased to meet you. May we come in?’
He hesitated a moment and then stood aside for her to pass into the kitchen. Annabel glanced around swiftly at the empty grate, her eyes coming at last to Mary Chadwick, standing at the table. She was tying up a bundle of their belongings. Tears were flooding down her cheeks and she turned her head away from Annabel’s gaze.
‘We’ll be gone in a few minutes, m’lady,’ Jim said heavily. ‘We’re not taking owt wi’ us. Just a few personal bits. We won’t be needing owt where we’re going.’
Mary pressed her hand to her mouth, but sobs escaped her.
‘No, you won’t be taking anything,’ Annabel said, adding firmly, ‘because you’re not going anywhere. This is your home and you’re staying here.’ She moved forward to put her arms around Mary’s shoulders and lead her to the Windsor chair near the hearth. The woman sat down but clung to Annabel’s arms, looking up at her beseechingly.
‘We can’t stay, m’lady. We can’t pay the rent because we can’t run the farm no more.’
Annabel patted her hand and then glanced over her shoulder towards Jim. ‘Come and sit down, Mr Chadwick, and I’ll explain.’
The man moved slowly towards the chair on the opposite side of the hearth and sat down heavily.
‘We’ll get your farm back on its feet. It’ll take a while, I realize that, but in the meantime, you’ll pay no rent.’
‘But we’ve no money to buy even food for oursens, let alone tek on farm labourers and, with the best will in the world, I can’t run this place on me own.’
‘Food will be provided and the men you need will be paid.’
‘How?’
Annabel licked her lips. This was a proud man she was dealing with. He wouldn’t accept charity happily. ‘By me, Mr Chadwick, but,’ she added swiftly, as he opened his mouth to protest, as she’d guessed he would, ‘it can be a loan. If you wish, you can keep a ledger of every penny spent on you and your farm and one day – when the farm is paying its way again – you can pay me it all back. In instalments, of course.’
He gaped at her and then rubbed the back of his gnarled hand across his eyes. ‘I must be dreaming. Am I dreaming, Ma?’ Annabel felt tears start in her own eyes to hear the man address his wife as her grandfather addressed her grandmother.
Mary was smiling through her tears and still clinging to Annabel’s hand. ‘If you are, Pa, then I’m in the same dream and I don’t want to wake up.’
‘No dream, I promise,’ Annabel laughed. ‘Now, unpack your belongings and get a fire lit in the range and cook yourselves a meal.’
Jim and Mary glanced at each other. ‘We’ve no coal, m’lady.’
‘Then we’ve come at just the right moment.’ Annabel turned to Ben. ‘Mr Jackson will organize for some coal to be delivered to you and some food, too. More supplies will be coming sometime today.’
‘But we can’t pay you.’
‘Please accept these first few items as a gift.’ Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she added, ‘Then you can start keeping an account.’
Jim was staring at her. ‘D’you know, I nivver believed in prayers being answered, but I do now. You’re the answer to all our prayers.’ And now, quite unashamedly, he wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘God bless you, m’lady. May God bless you.’
Annabel was embarrassed and didn’t know how to respond as she felt the blush creeping up her face, so she smiled and nodded and turned her attention back to more practical matters. She looked at Ben. ‘Now, where next? The workhouse in town to fetch the Broughtons home?’
‘We could.’ There was doubt in his voice. ‘But their house will be cold and possibly damp. It’s been unlived in for some weeks.’
‘Then we’ll go there and see what needs doing, but I don’t want them staying in that place any longer than they really have to.’
‘We could help clean it up, m’lady.’ Already there was a new strength and vigour in Jim’s voice.
‘That’s kind of you and I’d be glad of your help, of course, but you and Mrs Chadwick must get yourselves well and strong first.’
‘Be warned, m’lady,’ Jim said seriously, ‘Dan Broughton is an awkward old cuss. He was very bitter about having to leave.’
‘I don’t blame him.’
‘And he’ll not tek owt he sees as a handout.’
‘Were you on good terms with him, Mr Chadwick?’
Jim chuckled and Annabel caught a glimpse of the man whom Ben had described before life had weighed him down and killed his jovial nature. ‘Before all this happened, we got along fine.’
‘Then it sounds as if I’ll need your help.’
Mary was already unfolding the bundle and placing her precious family photographs back on the mantelpiece.
‘Are those your daughters?’ Annabel asked.
‘Aye, and them’s our grandbairns.’ She pointed to a picture of three children; two boys and a girl.
‘You must be very proud of them.’
‘We are,’ she said and her face fell for a moment. ‘And I hope they’ll soon have reason to be proud of us again.’
‘I’m sure they’ve never stopped being proud of you. None of it has been your fault, I know that, but now we must all pull together. I’d be glad of your support.’
‘You have it, m’lady,’ Jim said. ‘Be sure of that. If there’s owt we can do, though it bain’t much at the moment, be sure to ask us.’
‘There is perhaps one thing you could advise me about.’ She glanced between Ben and Jim. ‘Both of you. The farm that’s empty – Sparrow Farm – is there anyone in the village who might be capable of taking it on?’
The two men exchanged a look before Jim said slowly, ‘Well, if Ben agrees with me, the only man I can think of would be Adam Cartwright. He worked for me from being a young lad.’
Mary paused in dusting her photographs. ‘The farm’d be a grand place for their bairns to grow up and their eldest boy, Simon, is old enough to help out. Country children learn to do whatever little jobs they can from quite an early age and he’ll soon be past school age anyway.’ She paused and nodded, smiling now. ‘We heard about his babby and what you did, m’lady.’
Annabel nodded, avoiding yet more compliments neatly by saying, ‘Do you agree, Ben?’
‘Aye, aye, I think I do. With a bit of help and support from us’ – he included Jim – ‘I think he could make a go of it.’
‘That’s settled then. We’ll see him later, but first we’ll go and take a look at Chaffinch Farm.’
‘How many are there in the Broughton family?’ Annabel asked Ben when they had climbed back into the trap and were heading out of the yard and turning towards the neighbouring farm.
‘Dan, his wife, Lily, and their sixteen-year-old, William.’
Ben had the keys for Chaffinch Farm and when he opened the back door and they went inside, Annabel was appalled at the filthy state of the house.
‘How long did you say it has been since they left?’ she asked, looking around her. It was going to take a while longer than she had anticipated to get the place habitable again.
‘Just over two months. I’m sorry, m’lady. It looks as if they haven’t been keeping it right for some time. I heard tell that Dan got very depressed and just sat by the fire all day leaving the work to Lily and young William.’ He paused and his expression was anxious as he asked reluctantly, ‘Would you rather we found some new tenants?’
‘Heavens, no! Don’t ever think that, Ben. They’ll just need more help, that’s all.’
Ben’s face brightened. ‘William’s a good lad – a hard worker – though his dad never appreciated him. With a bit of guidance, though . . .’
Annabel chuckled. ‘It seems there are going to be several needing “a bit of help and guidance”. We’re going to be busy, Ben. Right, I’ve seen enough here – more than enough. Now, let’s take a look at Sparrow Farm.’
Ben took his watch out of his waistcoat pocket. ‘Do you want to stop for lunch, m’lady?’
‘Is it that time already? Are you hungry?’
‘Well, a bit, m’lady.’
‘Sorry, that was a silly question. You must be hungry all the time. All of you. We’ll go back to the vicarage. I’m sure Mrs Webster can find us something. Then we’ll carry on. That’s if you’re not too tired.’
Ben smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. ‘Not any more, m’lady. Not now. You’ve given us all hope and there’s nowt like hope to put life back into us.’
Phoebe was standing at her kitchen table, red faced from the heat of her kitchen, carving the biggest joint of beef that Annabel could remember ever having seen. Villagers were already queuing at her back door.
‘They’re all cooking their own vegetables,’ she explained as Annabel and Ben walked in, ‘but I’ve cooked this in my big oven this morning. It was easier that way. Now, sit down at the end of the table and I’ll cut some for you both. Lizzie, are the vegetables ready?’
‘Coming, ma’am.’
Richard joined them and they all sat down at the kitchen table to eat. When they had finished, Ben leaned back in his chair. ‘I can’t remember when I last enjoyed a meal so much. And that beef! I reckon it’s the best I’ve ever tasted.’
‘Now,’ Annabel began, rising from the table, but she was interrupted by a knock at the back door. Annie opened it to Edward.
‘Now, my lovely,’ he smiled, opening his arms to Annabel, ‘your gran and I thought I should just come over and see how you are.’
‘We’re getting things sorted out gradually, though Lady Fairfield has pneumonia. Dr Maybury has promised to come every day and we’ve sent word to James.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Edward said. ‘That’s serious in someone so frail.’
‘I must go up and see how she is,’ Richard put in, rising from his seat.
‘And we’ll be bringing the Broughtons home from the workhouse as soon as we can, but their farmhouse is in a dreadful state. We’ll need to get it cleaned and aired. I’d ask Jane to help, but she’s helping out at the house. There are plenty of women in the village who I know would help, but they’re weak from lack of food. I don’t like to—’
‘I’ll do it,’ Lizzie said at once. ‘If Mrs Webster doesn’t mind.’
‘Thank you, Lizzie, but you can’t do it on your own. It’s a daunting task, I don’t mind telling you.’
‘The workhouse,’ Edward said. ‘You mean to tell me that Dan Broughton and his family are in the workhouse?’ He shook his head sadl
y. ‘I wish I’d known that, Annabel. I’d’ve done summat about that ’afore now. Tell you what, my lovely,’ his face brightened. ‘I’ll ask my workers if their wives’d help out. They can come over in the cart.’
‘That would be wonderful, Gramps. And now we’re on our way to Sparrow Farm. It’s been empty for some time.’
‘I’ll come with you. Your gran isn’t expecting me back till tea time.’
Strangely, though it had been deserted for some months, Sparrow Farm was not in as bad a state as the Broughtons’ farm.
‘Just a good clean, that’s all it needs,’ Edward said looking around. ‘And there are implements in the barns. All that’s missing is folk to run it and a couple of horses.’
‘We’ve being thinking that Adam Cartwright might like to take on the tenancy. Do you know him, Gramps?’
Edward wrinkled his brow for a moment, before his face cleared and he said, ‘The one who’s baby was so poorly? Oh aye, I know who you mean. He used to work for Jim Chadwick. Nice young feller.’
‘That’s him,’ Ben said. ‘Jim thinks he’d do all right, with a bit of guidance.’
Edward nodded. ‘Be grand for his young family. How’s the babby doing now?’
‘We’ll call when we get back to the village.’
As the three of them climbed back into the trap, Annabel sighed as she looked about her. ‘Isn’t it a sad sight, Gramps? Deserted, neglected fields; no crops, no livestock. It breaks your heart.’
Edward put his arm around her shoulders. ‘You’re doing a grand job, my lovely. Now, ’tis time I was on my way home and you can go back to the village and give Adam the good news.’
Twenty-Four
‘Come in, m’lady,’ Adam greeted Annabel and Ben. ‘I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done . . .’
Annabel smiled. ‘I wanted to see how little Eddie is, of course, but we’ve come about something else too.’
‘Oh.’ The young man’s face clouded. ‘You – you want us to leave because we haven’t paid the rent?’
Annabel shook her head, ‘No – nothing like that. Hello, Betsy. How are you?’