by Penny Jordan
She looked at her daughter, and saw that she was sitting staring at Silas, totally enraptured, her small face propped up in her hands as she leaned on the table and watched him.
‘Do you have any dogs to look after your sheep?’ she asked him seriously at length.
Kate felt her heart leap into her throat, and her eyes burn with emotional tears as she looked at them. Father and daughter, and to her, if no one else, so very alike. More, perhaps, in small ways than obvious ones, and her throat locked tight with love and pain as Silas replied equally gravely, ‘No, we don’t, I’m afraid…’
‘I could lend you Blackie,’ Cherry offered. ‘He’s my dog, and I’m training him, but he’s only a pup yet. But he’s got the makings…’
To his credit, Silas didn’t smile.
‘I could show him to you if you like,’ Cherry offered.
The kitchen had become oddly silent, and Kate was so totally engrossed in watching Silas and Cherry that it was several seconds before she realised her parents were watching her. Once she did realise, a vivid flush stained her face. What had she given away in those few unguarded seconds to bring that look to both their faces?
‘I’d like that very much,’ she heard Silas saying, and Cherry got up, offering him information about her pup and its training in the slightly old-fashioned way she had picked up from Kate’s father.
‘Are you coming with us, Mum?’ Cherry invited, but Kate shook her head. She didn’t think she was strong enough to withstand the emotional impact of watching them together—father and daughter, although neither of them knew it. And Silas was so good with her, seeming to know by instinct how to treat her. How not to talk down to her, because Cherry was at that vulnerable age when she was just beginning to be aware of adult condescension and hurt by it. But then, of course, he would have his experience with his sister’s sons to guide him.
She watched them walk across the yard together, Cherry looking up at Silas as she chatted energetically to him.
‘Does he know…about Cherry?’ her mother asked quietly from behind her, making her stiffen and turn to look at her in shock.
‘How…how did you know?’ she stammered, looking from her mother’s face to her father’s and seeing the truth on both of them.
‘She’s very like him,’ her mother said quietly. ‘And besides, we’re your parents. He seems very nice,’ she added inconsequentially, and Kate’s heart ached, because in her mother’s voice she heard the concern of mothers the world over, for their children and their happiness.
‘He is,’ she agreed softly. ‘But no, he doesn’t know, and I can’t tell him. For Cherry’s sake.’ She had never really explained to her parents what had happened, and she did so now, not sparing herself when describing how she had seen Silas with his sister and children and immediately leapt to the wrong conclusion.
‘We’ve talked quite a lot this last week, and one thing I have learned is that Silas does not want the encumbrance of a wife and family. He told me so himself, and I can’t take the risk of having Cherry hurt by discovering that he’s her father, only to find out that he doesn’t want her.
‘Even though you still love him.’
‘Even though I still love him,’ Kate confirmed. ‘Even though I love him far more than I ever did before.’
* * *
Silas didn’t leave until well into the evening. He fitted well into her family, Kate recognised, listening to him discussing the various merits of selective breeding with her father.
‘It’s all very well in theory,’ her father half scoffed, ‘but wait until you have to put it into practice.’
‘I quite agree,’ Silas responded. ‘And I’ll soon have an opportunity to find out just how successful this new strain is. I’ve bought a farm not far from here. It’s very neglected and run-down at present, and the land needs attention, but when I officially leave my present post at the end of the summer I hope to concentrate on seeing just how this new strain develops…’
Kate stared at him, her heart thudding uncomfortably, totally ignoring everyone else as she challenged huskily, ‘How can you do that? You said you were going back to Ethiopia.’
Silas looked at her, breaking off his conversation with her father. He had been so totally engrossed in what they were discussing and his own enthusiasm for the subject that he had allowed himself to be trapped in his own lies.
His throat went dry. He could see anger in Kate’s eyes, and pain as well, and his pulses started to pound. Could it be possible that, despite everything, she still cared for him?
Of course she did. She must. She could never have made love with him the way she had the other night if she didn’t.
But giving way to the overwhelming sentiment of the moment was one thing, making a lifelong commitment was another, and he knew he couldn’t bear the thought of Kate turning away from him in pity when she learned the truth. His pride, and his fear that her compassion for him would lead her into sacrificing herself to a relationship which would be devoid of the family she had so often stated she wanted, would not allow him to tell her how much he loved and needed her.
He had quickly learned from Cherry’s bright chatter when she showed him her pup that she had no knowledge or experience of her father, but that was not to say that at some stage he might not appear to share their lives. Kate still loved him. She had said so.
‘Yes…Yes, I am,’ he lied. ‘I’ll be getting a manager for the farm.’
By the time she discovered the truth, she would be back in London, and he would do all he could to ensure that on her future visits home he kept out of her way.
They all went out into the yard to see him off, Kate’s father gruffly telling him that he was welcome to call whenever he chose.
He was just about to get into the Range Rover when, to everyone’s surprise, Cherry rushed up to him and hugged him briefly.
He held on to her automatically, bending his head to ruffle her hair and return her embrace.
She was tall for an eight-year-old, he thought, her coltish body promising elegance in adulthood, but she was still young enough and obviously loved enough to be totally natural with everyone.
After he had gone and they went back in the kitchen, Cherry said wistfully, ‘Silas is really nice. I wish…’
‘What?’ Kate demanded forcefully, staring at her, her whole body tense. Please God, don’t let Cherry say she wished he was her father…
But she realised her imagination was working overtime when Cherry said simply, ‘I wish we could stay here for ever, Mum, instead of going back to London. It’s so much better up here.’
* * *
Kate didn’t sleep well that night; the wind in the eaves disturbed her, and then later so did the silence. In fact, everything disturbed her, or was it just her own thoughts and memories that wouldn’t allow her to sleep? Or perhaps the knowledge that Silas wasn’t there?
In the morning she woke up with a headache that refused to go away.
After one look at her, her mother suggested that a morning spent weeding the vegetable garden might help.
‘There’s something very therapeutic about pulling out weeds, I always think. Perhaps it’s the righteous vice of being destructive in a good cause. I always imagine I can hear the plants sighing in relief as I pull out the weeds.’ She smiled whimsically at Kate, who tried to respond.
Her father was going to see Sam Benson and he was taking Cherry with him. As it wasn’t far across the fields, they were going to walk.
They came back just before lunch. Kate, sitting back on her heels and surveying the neat pile of weeds she had extracted from the vegetable garden, watched them.
Cherry had her head down and her footsteps dragged. She was walking very stiffly several yards away from her grandfather’s side, and it was plain to Kate that something was wrong.
She got up unsteadily. So far, her parents had not witnessed Cherry’s very stubborn streak. Normally sunny-natured, her daughter could be astonishingly recalcitrant
when she thought she had right on her side. Just like her father. And just like her grandfather, too, Kate reflected wryly, dusting down her jeans and going to meet them.
Cherry refused to meet her eyes, and so did her father. Both of them looked mutinous. Both of them were glowering.
Kate waited until she and Cherry were safely upstairs before asking firmly, ‘What’s wrong?’
Cherry had her back to her as she washed her hands ready for lunch, and Kate took hold of her shoulders and firmly turned her round so that she could look at her. Ever since Cherry had been old enough to understand and reason for herself, Kate had accorded her daughter the same respect she would an adult, offering guidance and advice, but never imposing her own views on her.
Now she wondered if she had done the right thing, or if, perhaps, she had been too lax. Did Cherry trust her enough to tell her what was wrong, or would she believe that Kate must automatically side with her own father?
‘I wanted Gramps to buy Meg—that’s Mr Benson’s dog—and bring her with us, but he wouldn’t.’
Kate expelled a faint sigh of relief.
‘Well, I expect he had a good reason for that, didn’t he?’
‘He said Meg belonged to Mr Benson and that we just couldn’t take her.’
‘Well, no,’ Kate agreed, trying to feel her way through what she suspected was going to be a very dangerous minefield indeed.
‘But poor Meg was tied up with no water and no food, and the chain had rubbed on her neck and…’
Cherry started to cry, and Kate bit her lip, knowing how her daughter felt about the ill-treatment of animals, any animals…
‘I wanted Gramps to bring Meg away. I would have paid Mr Benson for her, but Gramps said he couldn’t interfere with the way a man treats his dog. And then he frowned at me, you know the way he does, and said we had to come home. And poor Meg cried, Mum. It was awful.’
Kate sighed again. She could see it all. Her father was a farmer, with a farmer’s lack of sentiment about animals, but Cherry was still a child, with ideals and a very tender heart. In Cherry’s eyes, her grandfather had failed her, and in her father’s eyes, Cherry was probably making a fuss about nothing, Kate reflected, knowing how much her father detested what he called ‘women’s softness’.
It took her a while to persuade Cherry to go down for lunch, but when they got there she found that Kate’s father had been in and gone out again.
Over Cherry’s head, Kate and her mother exchanged understanding looks, both of them trying to distract the little girl as she toyed with food she obviously didn’t want, her small face pale and strained.
Kate’s headache, which had started to abate during the morning, had returned in a full-blown migraine, and when, after lunch, Cherry asked if she could go out and play, Kate agreed.
It was her mother’s day for her local WI meeting, and with her head throbbing so painfully that she could hardly see, Kate went upstairs to lie down.
At some time or another she must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew was when her mother shook her gently awake and proffered a cup of tea.
‘I can’t have slept so long,’ Kate groaned, sitting up. Her headache had gone, leaving her feeling weak and slightly lethargic as it always did. ‘How’s Cherry now?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen her,’ her mother told her. She saw Kate’s face and soothed, ‘Now, don’t start to panic. I’ve only just driven in, and I came straight inside. It’s only half-past five, and I told her we wouldn’t be eating until later today because I was going out. She’s a sensible child, Kate, and unlikely to do anything foolish.’
‘But she is a child,’ Kate responded, ‘and I’m her mother…’ She pushed back the bedclothes. ‘Where on earth can she be?’
‘Look, before you start panicking, I’ll go down and check the yard. She’s probably out with Blackie. She normally takes him out around this time for his training.’
Conceding that her mother was right, Kate nevertheless dressed quickly and followed her downstairs.
As her mother had predicted, Cherry’s pup was missing. ‘Why don’t you go to the end of the lane and give her a shout? She never takes him very far,’ she suggested.
Kate followed her advice, terrified of admitting the fear growing inside her. One read such dreadful news items about missing children. Cherry might be sensible, but she was only ten years old…
She called her name until her throat was sore, and then, just when she was beginning to panic in earnest, she saw Cherry running towards her, over the crest of the hill, Blackie at her heels.
She was breathless by the time she reached Kate, her face flushed, and an oddly guilty look in her eyes, but Kate was too relieved to see her to do anything more than say chidingly, ‘Where on earth have you been? I’ve been calling you for ages.’
‘I was walking Blackie.’
An averted profile muffled the explanation slightly, and, taking a firm grip of her arm, Kate led her back towards the farmhouse.
Over tea, Cherry was subdued, but Kate put it down to the fact that she was still hurt by her grandfather’s refusal to rescue the dog.
Even so, she was surprised to hear Cherry saying at seven o’clock that she was tired, and went upstairs with her while she got ready for bed, anxious to make sure there was nothing really wrong.
‘Gramps would have helped if he could, I’m sure,’ she told Cherry as she tucked her up. ‘But he could hardly just take Mr Benson’s dog, could he?’
Cherry went white and averted her face, her mouth trembling, and Kate sighed. There were times when her daughter could be so sensitive. As she smoothed back her hair from her forehead, she told herself that she had been wise not to say anything about Cherry to Silas. It was better surely that Cherry shouldn’t know her father, rather than that she should know him and be hurt by him.
‘Is she all right?’ Kate’s mother asked when Kate went back downstairs.
‘Not really. She’s very upset about the dog.’ Kate looked at her father and saw that he was scowling, a sure sign that he was embarrassed and uncomfortable. ‘Is there really nothing we can do, Dad? She says the animal is being badly treated.’
‘I offered to buy it off him, but he wouldn’t sell.’
‘But if it’s being badly treated, surely the RSPCA…’
‘This isn’t the city,’ her father interrupted harshly. ‘Up here, it’s still a man’s own business how he treats his beasts.’
Kate sighed, knowing there was nothing more she could say or do, other than perhaps to try to have a word with the vet to see if there was anything he could do.
None of them heard or saw the small, slim figure creeping stealthily down the rear staircase and out into the yard. Blackie started to yelp as he recognised his young mistress, but Cherry silenced him quickly.
It was a long way to the disused farm where she had hidden the dog. It greeted her with yelps similar to Blackie, jumping up to lick her face, as she kneeled down to give it the food she had brought for it.
She dared not stay long, and she hated the mournful way the dog howled as she left.
* * *
’Gone, they are, and I can’t find them anywhere,’ Kate heard her father grumble.
‘What’s gone?’ she asked him as she walked across the yard. There was still a certain coolness between Cherry and her grandfather; the former having gone off by herself this morning for a walk.
‘A brand new pair of wire-cutters.’
‘Oh, well, I expect they’ll turn up,’ Kate comforted him, her mind more on Cherry than on her father’s missing wire-cutters.
Over lunch, Cherry was still very subdued. She looked pale, there were shadows under her eyes and her normal bright smile was dimmed, and when Kate’s father asked her if she wanted to go down to the village with him she shook her head.
* * *
It was the postman the following morning who brought them the news.
‘Have you heard about Sam Benson’s
missing dog?’ he asked chattily, as he handed over the letters to Kate.
She shook her head, her body suddenly chilling.
‘Seems someone’s gone and stolen it. Mad as fire he is.’ He looked speculatively around the yard. ‘Seems to think your father might have had something to do with it…Claims he wanted to buy the dog.’
Kate tried to look surprised, knowing that whatever she said was all too likely to be passed on to the next farm he delivered to, and then went inside, handing over the mail to her mother. Cherry was sitting huddled over her breakfast, and it was barely touched.
Kate looked at her daughter. Surely it was stretching her imagination too far to think that Cherry was responsible for the dog going missing?
Even so, as soon as she could, she got Cherry on her own and sat her down on the windowseat of the bedroom that had been Kate’s own when she was a girl.
‘Mr Benson’s dog is missing,’ she told Cherry, without preamble, ‘and he’s virtually accusing your grandfather of being responsible.’
She had her hands on Cherry’s shoulders, and she felt her flinch and her own heart dropped.
‘Cherry, you must tell me. Did you take the dog?’
Cherry hung her head, her voice muffled by tears as she said huskily, ‘Yes. I had to, Mum,’ she added defiantly, her eyes flashing as her head came up. ‘She’s frightened of him and so thin…’
‘But, Cherry, that’s stealing.’
Kate cursed herself for her unthinking words as she saw Cherry go white.
‘I thought she was chained up,’ she said in a softer tone. ‘How did you set her free?’
‘I took the wire-cutters. I worked it all out…’
’And where is she now?’ Kate asked her, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.
‘The old Jessop farm. The one that Mr Edwards has bought. I’ve shut her in one of the barns there. Mum, will I go to prison?’
Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks, and for all her fear and anger Kate couldn’t stop herself from taking her in her arms and hugging her reassuringly.
‘Of course not. But what you did was wrong, Cherry. Yes, I know you felt you were right. I understand why you did it, but if you’d just waited a little while I was going to ask the vet if there was anything he could do. The dog will have to be returned to Mr Benson, you must see that…’