The Girl on the Doorstep: from the bestselling author of The Workhouse Children (A Black Country Novel)

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  ‘Mum, there’s this girl called Lucy—’ John began.

  ‘I guessed as much,’ Sarah interrupted. She knew the day would come when her boys would notice and then become interested in girls, and now it had happened.

  ‘Well, I really like her, Mum,’ John continued his face flushing with embarrassment.

  ‘So, what’s the problem?’ Sarah asked keeping her eyes forward to save her son’s blushes.

  ‘Our Frank likes her too!’ John burst out petulantly.

  ‘Ah, now I understand.’

  ‘Mum, I don’t know what to do!’ John was becoming fractious.

  ‘Have you told this Lucy how you feel?’ Sarah asked quietly.

  ‘No! I’ve only met her a few times but, oh, Mum – she’s lovely. She’s an artist and…’ John went on to tell how they’d been over to the gypsy camp; how her sketches were so life like and how she laughed and joked around – with Frank.

  Sarah listened as they meandered down the street. She’d scowled at hearing about the gypsies and their visits to Rosie Harris where this Lucy also lived. However, she kept her counsel and after purchasing the flour for Mrs Poole, they slowly retraced their steps.

  ‘John, if you like her so much you’ll have to make it known to her. Ask her if she’ll allow you to court her, that way you’ll know if she feels the same about you,’ Sarah advised.

  ‘But what if she says no?’ John was agitated.

  ‘At least you’ll know where you stand.’

  ‘Then there’s our Frank. Mum, I hate that Lucy is coming between us. I know I’m short tempered with him, but I can’t help it.’

  ‘Look, son, one of you will have to speak with Lucy, and it may be that she has set her sights on another altogether,’ Sarah said, her heart going out to her boy who was clearly distressed. ‘Either way, I don’t want my sons falling out over a girl!’ Her voice now held a sharpness that brought John to a standstill.

  ‘I don’t want that either, Mum, it’s like half of me is missing when we argue,’ John said wrapping an arm around his mother’s shoulder.

  ‘What’s your father say about all this?’ Sarah asked as they began to walk once more.

  ‘Much the same as you.’

  Arriving back at Daventry House, John kissed his mother farewell and stepping out towards the basin he felt slightly better. Although the problem had not been solved, his burden had been shared and was not nearly so heavy to carry.

  ‘Mum said to say hello,’ John called out as he climbed onto the ‘Two Hearts’.

  ‘How was she?’ Bill asked.

  ‘Good. She’s looking much better now.’

  ‘I was going to come with you, but you’d already left by the time we’d sorted out the load,’ Frank said feeling a little put out.

  ‘Sometimes I just need to do things by myself!’ John snapped. He saw the hurt spring to his brother’s eyes but could not bring himself to apologise.

  ‘Right! You two – below deck – NOW!’ Bill’s voice boomed out.

  When all three were sitting around the small table, the boys looking sheepish, Bill spoke again.

  ‘I’ve had enough of this. John, you are surly and bad tempered. Frank you are winding John up like a clock. I know Lucy Richards is at the heart of this and I tell you now, the next time we’re at Rosie’s it will be sorted out once and for all. Now shake hands and let’s have no more of this bloody nonsense!’

  The boys did as they were bid and then suddenly both began to smile, taking Bill very much by surprise.

  ‘That’s the first time you’ve ever shouted at us,’ John said.

  ‘Is it any wonder? That’s the one thing you’ve inherited from your mother – you can make my blood boil!’

  ‘Sorry, Dad,’ the voices sounded in unison.

  ‘It’s not me you should be apologising to,’ Bill whispered as he stood to boil the kettle.

  ‘Sorry,’ the boys spoke quietly to each other.

  Bill, with his back to the twins, smiled. Whatever happened, nothing would break the bond his sons shared – God willing.

  Thirty-three

  Lucy was amazed that her neighbour Fanny had taken in her arch enemy Molly Mountford and that they would be living together. Molly was to be a lodger – to pay board when she eventually found herself some work.

  Sitting in Rosie’s living room now, the four women were chatting when Fanny said. ‘Oh I nearly forgot to tell yer – them gypsies am back.’

  Lucy felt her heart quicken at the possibility of seeing Jake Harding again.

  ‘Where are they camped do you know?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘Ar, over the back of Crescent Wharf where they was the last time,’ Fanny replied.

  ‘I think I’ll pop over and do some more sketching,’ Lucy said gathering her things together.

  ‘Lucy, be careful.’ Rosie’s voice held a warning.

  ‘I will, don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for supper.’ Grabbing her shawl, she wrapped it around her shoulders, and with her bag over her arm she tripped out with a spring in her step.

  As she hurried through the streets, Lucy felt the first drops of rain, and only then realised how dark the sky had become. She increased her pace, rain or shine she was determined to see Jake again.

  The rain fell in a light patter as she wove her way through the tangle of streets, and a chilly wind took up. Lucy shivered as she felt the cold wetness seep through her clothes and she quickened her steps even more.

  Finally arriving at the circle of vardos she saw no movement. Clearly everyone was out selling their goods. Then she heard children’s laughter.

  ‘Hello,’ she called out as she entered the campsite.

  A head poked through the split door as a returned ‘hello’ greeted her.

  ‘I came to do some more drawings, but the weather seems set against me,’ Lucy said as she dragged her shawl up to cover her hair.

  ‘Best come in here a while then,’ Jake’s honeyed voice drifted to her on the wind.

  Lucy saw him standing in the doorway of his ’van, his dark eyes shining in the dim light of the brewing storm.

  ‘Ta very much,’ Lucy said striding towards him and ascending the three wooden steps.

  Jake stood a brief moment staring into the girl’s blue eyes and Lucy felt like her heart would explode.

  Moving aside, he allowed her entry and Lucy gasped her surprise at the clean and tidy interior.

  ‘Sit,’ Jake commanded quietly. Closing the door against the rain which was now hammering down on the vardo, he moved to a tiny table. ‘Tea?’

  Lucy nodded. ‘Ta.’ She watched his every movement intently. She saw him reach into a small cupboard and lift out a china cup and saucer. Her mind slowed everything down in an effort to remember every little detail.

  ‘I thought you might be out around the town,’ she said at last which broke the silence that hung between them.

  Jake shook his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. He watched the girl sitting opposite him and guessed why she had come.

  Lucy’s eyes roamed around and took in the pretty curtain at the window up front, and the benches covered with matching material. She could feel Jake staring at her and her pulse quickened. She knew she should not be here, alone with this man, but all reason and propriety were pushed aside.

  As the silence between them lengthened, Lucy began to feel uncomfortable and she shuffled on the bench. Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met and she felt a physical pain in her heart. At that precise moment she would do anything in her power to make this man love her.

  The only sound was the rain beating a steady rhythm on the vardo roof. Lucy stared shamelessly at the man who had haunted her over the weeks he’d been on the road. She felt the heat of her blood pumping through her veins and her pulse throbbing. She swallowed hard; her throat was dry and her hands were sweating. She knew Jake was considering her, she could see it in his smouldering eyes.

  What would she do if he kissed her? She
would kiss him right back letting him know exactly how she felt about him.

  Suddenly as if reading her thoughts, Jake stood and dragged her to her feet. Holding her upper arms he looked deep into her eyes. Lucy knew he was giving her the chance to escape him should she wish to. Staring back at him, she gave him her answer by closing her eyes. Slowly Jake bent his head and gently placed his lips on hers.

  Fire tore through her body; her senses screamed pleasure as she returned his kiss. Her eyes remained closed long after his lips left hers. If ever there was a heaven, this was it for Lucy Richards.

  Slowly she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her. She was very much aware of what he wanted and also that he was again giving her the opportunity to leave. For the briefest moment she considered it, but she ached to be kissed again.

  Throwing caution to the wind, Lucy closed her eyes and tilted her chin upward. Her heart soared as their lips met again in a kiss that was hotter than a furnace.

  *

  The rain had eased off and Jake watched Lucy walk away from the camp. She turned and waved, and he gave a quick salute in return.

  Sitting alone once more he brooded. He should not have done what he did, but the girl was almost begging him. He had given her ample time to change her mind and leave, but she had stayed. He knew how she felt about him and he’d taken advantage of that. It was to please her he told himself in an effort to assuage his conscience.

  Jake sighed into the quiet, praying Rosie would never discover what had occurred between him and her friend. But then, why should he concern himself? Rosie didn’t want him; he was free and single, so he could do as he wished.

  He began to wonder if Lucy would be the sort to pester him and be on his doorstep night and day. Would she expect courtship or even marriage? He could do a lot worse than Lucy Richards for a life partner, but he had not considered being married to anyone other than Rosie Harris. There was also the gypsy convention of marrying with the Romanies. Had he made a mistake with Lucy?

  He felt guilty at leading the girl to believe he cared for her. Oh, he did like her, but he loved Rosie and would do so until the day he died. When that time came, would he have a wife and family to carry on his name, or would he still be alone?

  Pushing his bed back into place beneath the bench, Jake wished with all his heart it had been Rosie lying there with him.

  Lucy walked home on a cloud of happiness, oblivious to the spitting rain, and a thrill shot through her when she remembered her own boldness.

  They had shared something precious which to Lucy had proved Jake’s feelings for her were as strong as hers for him. Her mind was a flurry of activity as she sidestepped puddles gathering on the cobblestone road.

  Surely now Jake would ask her to marry him. Her pulse was rapid at the thought and an involuntary smile came to her lips. If they did marry, then she would live in the vardo with her new husband; she would have to learn the Romany way of life.

  How would the others take to him marrying outside of the clan? Would they accept her as their Bandolier’s wife? She enjoyed the thought of being married to the leader of the group.

  Reaching the house as the heavens opened once more, Lucy took a deep breath to calm her nerves and stepped indoors.

  No one would know what had occurred between Jake Harding and herself. It was her secret and she would hold it safe in her heart, to be brought out and enjoyed when loneliness surrounded her.

  Thirty-four

  Over the next few weeks Rosie felt the chill in the early morning air. She knew, from her travels with Maria, that the countryside would be a myriad of beautiful colours. The gold, bronze and copper of the falling leaves heralded winter would not be long in coming.

  Along with Fanny and Molly, Rosie often walked to the market to do their shopping. She’d noticed Lucy had spent a lot of time sketching at the gypsy camp.

  Margy and Abner called in when they could, and Rosie was always pleased to see them. However, of Bill and his sons there had been no sign for a while. Evidently they were busy, and she knew they would visit when work permitted. She ached to see Bill again, but she kept herself busy with her ‘readings’ along the canal.

  Returning from the market one day, Rosie noticed as if for the first time, the smoke puffing from chimneys adding to the pall hanging over the town. The buildings were blackened although the windows gleamed. Birmingham housewives were fiercely proud of the little they had and spent their days cooking and cleaning.

  Striding down Holloway Head, Rosie glanced down the side streets all lined with grimy houses and shops. The sun was out but it held no warmth and she hurried on home.

  She had been in the house but a minute when a rap came to the front door. Opening it she gasped, and a thrill coursed through her body.

  ‘Bill! What a lovely surprise. Come in – hello John, Frank.’

  Closing the door behind her visitors, Rosie fought to control her excitement. He was here at last. Her eyes took in greedily his tanned skin from months of being on the waterways. His fair hair bleached almost white by the sun; his bulging muscles from heaving heavy crates around, his blue eyes twinkling as he smiled acceptance at the offer of tea.

  ‘It’s been a while, Bill. I take it you have all been working hard?’

  ‘We have indeed.’ Looking around Bill asked, ‘Lucy not around?’

  ‘No, she’s over with the Romanies; she spends an awful lot of time there at the moment,’ Rosie answered as she buttered home-made scones. Seeing the look on all three faces she asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

  The twins hung their heads as their father answered. ‘These two likely lads have both developed a fancy for Lucy, and besides coming to see you, we were hoping the girl could help sort it out.’

  ‘Oh I see.’ Rosie looked at the boys in turn.

  ‘Unless you could…’ Bill ventured.

  ‘That would be up to Frank and John. It must be their decision as they are now young men and able to make up their own minds. Besides, I can’t guarantee it would help.’

  The twins raised smiling eyes to Rosie; they were pleased she didn’t see them as children.

  ‘I’m game!’ Frank said shoving his hand forward across the small table.

  Rosie laid her own beneath Frank’s and closed her eyes. As the shudder built in her, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. She was still thinking the same thing as the trio of Mitchells left her a couple of hours later.

  *

  At that same time, Lucy sat sketching the children as they played outside their vardos. Jake was out and about – again. She had not seen him since that rainy day when she had brazenly given herself to him. She fretted he was deliberately avoiding her.

  With a heavy heart, she collected her things and made ready to leave. It was then that she saw Jake striding towards her and the weight lifted to be replaced by a soaring happiness.

  As he walked straight past her, he jerked his head for her to follow him. Once inside his ’van he looked her straight in the eye.

  ‘We’re striking camp, it’s time to move on,’ Jake said quietly.

  Lucy’s heart leapt. Would his next words be to ask her to accompany him?

  ‘I’m not sure when or if we’ll be back – so go your own way, Lucy.’

  Her heart plummeted into her stomach and her mouth gaped open. He was telling her he wasn’t taking her with him.

  ‘But, Jake – we… we…’ Lucy struggled to hold back her tears.

  ‘I know, and it should never have happened. My heart belongs to another and always will.’ Jake’s words came out in a rush.

  ‘Jake, I thought… I thought yer loved me!’ Lucy’s tears fell as she looked at the dark-haired gypsy she loved to distraction.

  ‘No, Lucy, I made love to you, but I don’t love you. It won’t make up for what I’ve done but please know – I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry! Jake please – I want…’ Lucy was almost begging now; she was beside herself with grief.

  ‘Go now,
Lucy, and don’t come back,’ Jake said as he opened the door. The kumpania who were milling around looked at their leader.

  ‘Strike! We move today!’ he yelled.

  The sobbing girl left the vardo and ran from the camp. Her heart had shattered into a million pieces and she was blinded by tears.

  Lucy ignored the stares of the people as she fled through the streets. How could Jake do this to her? Why had she allowed herself to fall for the wild gypsy? She couldn’t imagine how she would go on without seeing him.

  Rushing through the door of number two, Lucy threw her bag down in a fusion of despair and temper.

  ‘Lucy, whatever is the matter?’ Rosie asked looking at her friend’s tears.

  ‘The gypsies am moving on!’ Lucy managed between sobs.

  ‘You knew they would at some point so why the tears this time?’ Rosie enfolded the girl in her arms, but the picture in her mind told her all she needed to know.

  ‘Oh Lucy!’

  ‘I know but I love ’im Rosie!’

  The two girls stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time until at last Lucy’s tears abated.

  ‘He’s a traveller, Lucy, it’s in his blood and the call is strong,’ Rosie said quietly.

  ‘I understand that but – I thought he’d take me with ’im! But no, he said ’is ’eart belonged to another!’ Lucy sniffed loudly.

  Rosie felt uncomfortable knowing she was the one Jake Harding had spoken of.

  ‘There will be someone for you, Lucy. You are so young yet, you have your whole life ahead of you. Maybe you should concentrate on your drawing and try to forget Jake.’ Even as she said it, Rosie knew this first heart-break would stay with Lucy forever.

  Lucy sniffed again, then in a fit of temper picked up her bag. Taking out her latest sketches she threw them onto the fire.

  ‘Oh Lucy no!’ Rosie was aghast.

  ‘Forget you said – that’s the way to ’elp me forget Jake Harding and his clan!’ Lucy snapped before dissolving into tears once more.

  Lucy went to bed early that night and Rosie sat by the fire thinking about the events of the day. Her friend had been taken advantage of by that gypsy rogue. Why had she given herself so freely? Lucy hadn’t said a word, but Rosie knew the moment she held the girl in her arms. Why had Jake not shunned her earlier? How would Lucy manage now, without what she saw as the love of her life?