by Terri Nixon
‘We understand.’
‘No! I’m not sure you do.’ Seeing Amy’s head start to draw down into her shoulders, I lowered my voice. ‘You must remember what she was like when we came to your grandfather’s house? Not a word, barely a look…and you can see she’s not as other children of four are. But she’s found her home now, and I know even Frank will see that when he comes for her. He told me he’d rather settle nearby, and see her when he could, than take her away from somewhere she feels safe.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Helen said. She reached out and touched my arm, and her eyes met mine. I began to believe her, and relaxed my posture.
‘I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have shouted. You do understand, though?’
‘Of course.’ Louise hesitated and bit her lip. ‘Whatever I say next, Kitty, I want you to promise me you will accept in the spirit with which it’s spoken. We want to help, somehow. We have…’ She stopped, and Helen nodded for her to go on. ‘We have more money than we need. We’d like to give you some. For Amy. To put away for her future.’
I looked at them in turn, unable to think of a single thing to say. ‘Why would you do that?’ I managed at last.
‘She’s such a sweet thing. And so sad,’ Helen said softly. ‘We want to think that one day she’ll be able to choose the life she wants for herself. To go to school, and maybe even university if she wants to, or simply to buy her own horse, or her own house. To never worry about debt.’
The word rang around the room, and suddenly everything made sense. Louise stepped away from us both and folded her arms tight across her chest. Until now I’d always felt as if Helen were the oldest, in maturity if not in actual years, but now Louise looked every bit as old as Evie and Lizzy, and every bit as capable.
‘Kitty, our family has seen some awful things. I don’t know if you realise, but—’
‘You organise loans, yes.’
‘Well then, you’ll know. We talked about it after lunch, and we can’t bear the thought of this poor child suffering in the way we’ve seen some families do. Especially since the war.’
‘We’ll look after her,’ I said, but it was pride and good intention talking, not practicality. I knew that as well as they did.
‘But what about if her father does collect her after all?’ Louise pressed. ‘He might save enough to take her away, but do you think he’ll have thought to save enough to sustain them after that? If he’s as devoted as you say, he’ll be here and whisking her away the moment he has the train tickets, or the steerage fares. But what then?’
Frank was sending what he could, and saving what he could, but the memory of his expression whenever he looked at his little girl made it painfully clear that Louise was right. She came over to me, and her hand gripped mine. ‘Please. Let us do this. For Amy and her father, and for your own peace of mind.’
I found myself nodding. Part of me hated myself for it, but a glance at Amy, flushed, now happy again, and cross-eyed as she peered into her spoon, banished that. ‘Thank you.’ It was hard to speak, but I tried to keep my voice steady. ‘We’ll put it away in the bank, and make sure she writes to you as soon as she’s able, to thank you herself.’
‘Well good,’ Louise said, and her sudden smile broke the thin veil of ice that had hung over us. She slipped her arm through mine and led me back into the main part of the house. ‘We have it safely locked away at the hotel, so we’ll give it to you when you drive us back.’
‘Thank you,’ I said again. It seemed inadequate, but for them it was enough.
An hour later I went to find Jessie. She was scrubbing vegetables for tonight’s dinner, and Lizzy was making pastry, and they were chatting quite happily. It was an usual sight, and it gave me hope for my next request.
‘Jessie, I know you don’t like it, but would you please come with me to take the girls home?’
‘Do you really need someone else?’ Jessie looked beseechingly at Lizzy, who considered.
‘It won’t hurt you to go alone this once, Kitty. Frances is writing some letters at the moment, so I don’t want to disturb her just to ask.’
‘I’d be more than happy to go alone,’ I said, ‘but I’m going to bring Pirate back. It’s Archie’s last half-day tomorrow, and I’d love him to spend some time doing what he loves most. Mr Pearce is expecting me this evening and I need someone to drive the trap home. Please, Jessie?’
She seemed gratified that I was asking nicely, and was able to acquiesce with good grace, thereby preserving the pleasant atmosphere, and convincing me she’d turned as much of a corner as Amy had. Indeed, the drive out to Princetown passed agreeably enough. Amy sat in the back with Louise and Jessie once again, and now there was more chatter drifting up to where Helen and I sat. Amy’s words were as few and far between as ever, but now and again her quiet giggle would settle into my heart and I’d find a smile on my face that grew wider every time.
Pippin clattered to a stop outside the Plume of Feathers, and I jumped down to help Louise and Helen; their fashionable skirts looked very nice, but they made climbing in and out of a pony trap something only other people ought to do.
‘Wait here,’ Louise said, and she and Helen went indoors quickly, leaving me standing in the road, and Jessie clicking her tongue impatiently.
‘What are we waiting for?’ she wanted to know after a few minutes. ‘I want to get back.’
‘You can go if you like,’ I said. ‘I can walk over to Mr Pearce’s.’
‘Fine, we will.’ She called back over her shoulder, ‘Hold tight, Amy; we’re off.’
She had just turned Pippin around to face back down the road towards Plymouth, when Helen and Louise came back out. Curious, she pulled the trap to a halt again, and waited.
I tried to swallow the feeling that I was doing something awful; this was for Amy, and how was it so different, after all, from asking for a roof over her head and food on her plate? Besides, they had offered… Still, it felt wrong, and I wanted it done and over with. I went to meet them.
Louise gave me a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. I had no idea how much might be in there, but it felt substantial. I thanked her once again and hugged her close. Then Helen put her arms around me too, and I felt that Amy, if not myself, had found two real, everlasting friends.
‘Come on,’ Jessie called. ‘I might as well take you down there, now.’
I climbed back onto the front seat, and waved the two girls out of sight before tucking the small package into my pocket.
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s for Amy.’
‘Yes, but what is it?’
‘What does it matter?’
Jessie clicked to Pippin. We drove for a few minutes in silence, then, as we passed the railway station she took a deep breath. ‘Is it money?’
‘Why ever would it—’
‘Is it money, Kitty?’
Taken aback, I could only blurt, ‘Yes!’
A second later I almost fell off my seat, as Jessie flicked the reins hard, sending Pippin into a startled canter. My heart thudding, I twisted to see Amy’s white face staring at me in terror, her mouth open in a wordless cry, and I grabbed Jessie’s hands and pulled, slowing Pippin to a fast trot.
‘Don’t worry, darling,’ I said to Amy, when I could speak properly. ‘That won’t happen again.’ I turned back; Jessie’s face was set and stony, no apology forthcoming. ‘What the hell was that?’ I hissed, not wanting Amy to hear. ‘What does it matter if they want to give her some money?’
She turned to me in a fury. ‘You are such a liar!’
‘What?’
‘Get out! Go on; get out! I’ll take Amy home. She doesn’t need you.’
‘Jessie!’
‘She’ll be quite safe with me. Get out!’ She gave me a rough push, and it was only by jumping that I managed to avoid a nasty fall. Even so I stumbled as I landed, and fell, skinning my knee. The apple I’d brought for Pirate dug into my thigh as I pitched awkwardly sideways. Stunn
ed, I watched her turn Pippin and the cart in a tight, practised circle, and drive back the way we’d come.
‘Jessie!’ I yelled, angered beyond belief. I couldn’t think of anything to say that might make her stop; I was still reeling from the accusation she’d flung at me. It was true, I’d lied a lot over the past week, but nothing that warranted this. And in any case it was the money that had pushed her into this fit of madness, not my lies.
I climbed stiffly to my feet, and began the short walk to the sawmill. By the time I got there I was hot, and even angrier than before, until Seth appeared, and nodded. ‘Miss. Your soldier not with you?’
‘No, he’s working for Mrs Adams today.’
‘Ah. That’s good of him. He seems like a nice sort, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
Despite myself, I felt a smile crossing my face. A nice sort. He was certainly that. ‘Thank you, I’ll tell him you said so.’
‘Hurt your knee, miss?’
‘Just a graze,’ I said, pulling the material of my trousers away from where they had stuck, with a little wince. ‘I’ll patch it up when I get home.’
‘Right you are. You’d be used to that.’
‘Sorry?’
‘You know, Red Cross.’
‘Oh, you remembered that?’
‘I didn’t say at the time, miss, ’cos I was so blood…uh, so angry with the two of you. Beggin’ your pardon. But, well, it’s a good thing, isn’t it, fixing broken people? Best you can, anyway, like.’
‘Yes,’ I said slowly. ‘It is, isn’t it?’ And just like that, I made my decision. A tightening in my belly, and a faint, queasy roll, told me it wouldn’t be easy, but I would do it because it was a ‘good thing’. The right thing. The only thing. My heart picked up pace, and I felt myself straightening, my shoulders squaring.
‘Anyway, you’ll be wanting Pirate,’ Seth went on, oblivious to the way his words had affected my future, and that of untold others. ‘He’s ready and waiting. Bring him back in a day or two.’ He led Pirate out of the stable, and the long white face nuzzled me in recognition. I fished out the apple, and let him pluck it from my hand while I gathered up the reins with the other, then I was up, and waving goodbye, feeling the cool wind tug at my hair and cool my hot face.
Once past the village I took the moorland path, pushing Pirate into a canter, and letting all the tension and anger flow out of me as the ground sped by beneath us. I remembered Archie’s look of relaxed happiness yesterday, and knew my expression would match it now; something about the horse’s smooth strength, and the ease with which he responded to the lightest touch on the rein reminded me of the day I’d ridden the horse we’d named Woody. If we hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here riding Pirate now… It was odd how things turned out.
I drew closer to Dark River Farm, and a glance to my right revealed the pony and trap, ambling along the main road. I looked long enough to satisfy myself that Amy was safe and happy, now sitting alongside Jessie, and then veered off and took the long way around once again. This time I came out at the field where the others were working. I heard Nathan’s shout, and Belinda’s laughter and reply. I didn’t know what they were saying, but the sounds of people working companionably together in these fields, underlaid by the distant sound of sheep and the call of the wood pigeons in the trees, gave me a sudden pang; could I really leave this, now I knew I loved it so much? And then, lower and stealing all the strength from my legs, Archie’s voice joined the others and I knew I’d go wherever he went, for the rest of my life.
I didn’t go over to them; they didn’t know I was there. I just turned Pirate towards home, and hacked him quietly the rest of the way, out to the road and then down the lane. I passed ‘our’ patch of grass, now no longer flattened, but easily distinguishable from the rest of the path, and the pleasant ache deep in my belly flared. Tonight we would be together again, and even if we didn’t make love, I would be able to touch him, talk to him, and read his immediate response to my decision to go back to Flanders.
But first, there was Jessie.
Chapter Nineteen
I found her upstairs, walking towards her bedroom. My voice cracked out. ‘You!’ She turned, her eyes wide, then saw it was only me and carried on walking. ‘Jessie!’
She stopped and sighed. ‘What?’
‘Where’s Amy?’
‘As if you care!’ She whirled on me. ‘You have the money.’
‘Why are you so angry about that?’ I was honestly puzzled. Surely it couldn’t be jealousy, not this time.
‘Who are those girls really?’
‘Jessie—’
‘Tell me!’
I sighed. ‘Helen and Louise McKrevie. Will and Evie met them in—’
‘Yes, I believe that. What I don’t believe is that you met them purely by chance yesterday. And I want to know why they’re suddenly giving you money for a little girl they’ve never met before.’
Something about her face stopped my fury in its tracks; she looked stricken, not angry, and I eased my voice down into a softer tone. ‘What’s wrong? Why don’t you trust them?’
‘You can’t trust anyone in this world,’ she said, her own voice catching suddenly. ‘Not anyone.’
‘Jess—’
‘Stop saying that!’
‘Well what do you want me to call you? Your real name’s Frances, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Call me that.’
I looked at her for a moment, wracking my brain for something that would explain this strange behaviour. ‘It’s going to get confusing,’ I said at last.
‘Then call Frances Mrs Adams.’
‘Oh, not that again!’ My irritation crept back. ‘You’ve never liked that, have you?’
She ignored that. ‘Why did Lady Creswell throw you out of Oaklands, Kitty? Same reason as your mother doesn’t want to know you?’
I hurt with the need to make her stop. ‘You don’t know anything about that.’
‘Then tell me.’
‘No.’
‘Why can’t you go home?’
‘Why can’t you?’
She stopped then, and her mouth opened and closed, then she shrugged. ‘I can. If I want to. I just don’t want to.’
‘What’s your mother done to you?’ It was my turn to throw the barb, and it struck true; she lashed out, thumping the wall.
‘Stop it! I told you, nothing.’
‘Shall I write to her, like you wrote to mine? Would that be fair?’
‘What?’ Her face went blank with surprise. Had she forgotten already?
‘You did your best to send me away, and it nearly worked, so perhaps I should do the same to you.’
‘You think I wrote that letter?’
‘You…you didn’t?’
‘No!’ She laughed then, and it wasn’t wholly unkind, but neither was it the slightest bit mirthful. ‘You idiot, that was Belinda!’
‘Don’t lie; Bel wouldn’t.’
‘Oh, wouldn’t she? Not even if she thought the handsome stranger had taken a shine to you?’
‘Nathan? Don’t be—’
‘I didn’t write the letter, Kitty.’
I spoke, not with disbelief now, but with a sort of bewildered betrayal. ‘Why would Bel want to send me away? We’re friends.’
‘Why do you think? It’s always men with you girls, isn’t it?’
‘What do you mean, us girls?’
‘You flighty, pretty types.’
I almost laughed too, then, but it would have been through humour, at least. ‘Are you poking fun at me?’
She ignored my question. ‘Look, ask her your stupid questions. I’m more concerned about those girls, and what they want with Amy.’
‘They don’t want anything with her. They just want her to have a good start in life.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
I was really cross again now. ‘Well what do you think they want?’
‘I…she…’ Jessie stopped and closed her eyes for a
moment, then opened them again and looked at me steadily. She seemed to come to a decision, and took a deep breath. ‘Kitty, what do you know about Amelia Dyer?’
‘Who?’
She glanced past me down the landing, and then opened her bedroom door. ‘Come in here. I want to talk. It’s time.’
‘What about Amy?’
‘She’s with Lizzy. She’s safe.’
It was an odd thing to say, but curiosity got the better of me and I followed Jessie into my old room and sat down on the bed. Jessie sat beside me, but wouldn’t look at me. We remained silent for a while, and although I was desperate to ask her something, anything, to get her talking, it would only upset things. So I waited.
Eventually Jessie took a deep breath and began. ‘Just over twenty years ago a woman called Amelia Dyer was hanged. Her daughter Polly was arrested too.’ She fell silent, but again I bit my tongue against the obvious questions, sensing her need to get her thoughts straight before she voiced them.
‘They were baby farmers.’
I flinched. ‘Baby farmers?’
‘Didn’t you hear about the “Reading Horrors” then?’
I shook my head, tight with apprehension at the thought of what I might hear next. Jessie’s voice was calm enough as she explained, helping to steady my rising horror.
‘Amelia used to take in children. Unwanted children. She used different names over the years, and she’d take payment from some poor girl who’d been caught out, ten pounds, something like that, and offer to give the child a good home. Save the girl the disgrace, and the cost, of bringing up a child.’
‘That’s…well, it’s awful, but surely it’s good for the child?’
‘It might have been. Except they never brought those children up. The children died, Kitty. Almost every one. Hundreds, they said, by the time those women were stopped.’
My mouth suddenly dry, I couldn’t swallow for a second, couldn’t breathe. I waited for my heart to start beating again, and when it did it hurt. But the air moved through me again, and I was able to speak.