‘Is that all though? Fred must’ve hit him enough times before but you never offered him a permanent job.’
‘Perhaps I felt sorry for him,’ Sam said quietly. ‘Being robbed of his future like that. All the lad ever dreamed of was serving his country, helping to win this blasted thing.’
Edie frowned. ‘I never heard you talk about the war like that before.’
‘You thought I didn’t care, just because I’m stuck here?’ Sam said. ‘Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do, London. If there’s one thing I can’t abide it’s a bully, and that’s all Hitler is. A power-mad little bully.’
‘Then why aren’t you –’ She stopped.
‘Why aren’t I in uniform?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘Because people still have to eat. There’s more than one way to win a war. I’m presuming you feel the same or you wouldn’t be here.’ He glanced at her. ‘Or wasn’t the Land Army your first choice?’
She flushed. How could he possibly know that? He seemed to have a knack for reading her mind.
‘Actually … no,’ she admitted. ‘I wanted to be a Wren, but they wouldn’t have me.’
‘Why not?’
‘I …’ She hesitated. ‘Some childhood health problems. I’m fine now,’ she added quickly. ‘But my doctor said they wouldn’t take a risk on me.’
He sighed. ‘Well, I know how you feel.’
‘You?’ she said, blinking.
He nodded. ‘I tried to join up early in ’39, when it’d become obvious to everyone but Chamberlain that war was inevitable. I’d made plans with a lad I know from a farming family in Kirkton who has a club foot to manage Larkstone, so they couldn’t throw that “reserved man” nonsense at me. Made no difference though. The army don’t want me.’
Edie looked over his solid frame. Not want him? How on earth could they not want someone like Sam? He was strong and athletic. He could run from one end of the farm to the other in no time, vaulting over stiles with his muscular arms. He could haul a full-grown sheep over his shoulders as if it barely weighed a thing. Edie couldn’t imagine any medical reason for him being refused.
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘Left ear didn’t pass muster,’ he muttered, unconsciously rubbing the afflicted organ. ‘Problems as a lad left me deaf on that side, and apparently one working ear isn’t good enough for His Majesty. Kick in the head, right?’
‘But … everyone in the village thinks you dodged joining up. The feathers …’ Now Edie had been at the farm a while, she knew that the white feathers and taunting graffiti of ‘coward’ and ‘traitor’ appeared semi-regularly around Sam’s property.
‘Let ’em think what they want,’ Sam said, a fierce look in his eyes. ‘I never asked for this bloody village’s approval. They’d made up their minds to hate me long before this. It’s a good way to get left alone, and I like being left alone.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Edie said quietly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘What for? It wouldn’t have made a difference.’
‘It would have made a difference to me.’
‘Huh.’ He was quiet for a moment, glaring into the distance. Then his scowl lifted and he turned back to her. ‘You still stepping out with Errol Flynn then, are you?’
‘Who?’
‘That pretty flyboy.’
‘Oh.’ Edie flushed. ‘We were never … it was only a couple of dances.’
‘Plenty of brass, I expect? Their lot always seem to come from some nobby school.’
‘I really wouldn’t know.’
Sam fell silent, then jumped suddenly to his feet.
‘Come on, London,’ he said, the old gruffness back in his tone.
Edie stood too. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Summat to show you.’
Puzzled, she followed him to the henhouse.
‘Oh!’ she said when he showed her what was in there. She clapped her hands. ‘Oh, the loves!’
Sam laughed at the look of delight on her face as she examined the tiny yellow chicks.
‘Hatched a couple of days ago,’ he said. ‘Take your pick, any two you fancy. They’ll be ready to go home with you next week, I reckon.’
‘We can really have them?’
‘Promised, didn’t I?’
‘Thank you, Sam. That’s very kind of you,’ she said, beaming at him. ‘I’ll speak to Prue about getting a coop.’
Sam looked awkward under her effusive thanks.
‘So, um … have you seen that new film then?’ he said after a moment’s silence. ‘Supposed to be a masterpiece.’
‘Hmm?’ Edie was watching the chicks as they waddled about, looking like fluffy sherbet lemons on legs.
‘This Orson Welles thing. I’d rather watch Stan and Ollie myself, but everyone seems to be raving about it.’
‘Citizen Kane? No, not yet.’
‘I, er … it’s showing at the Empire in Kirkton.’
‘Is it?’ Edie was only half paying attention. ‘Terrific, I can see if Vinnie and Barbara want to go. Tilly’s too big now to be comfortable for a whole picture.’
Sam rubbed his neck. ‘I did think … I wondered if you might like to go with me.’
She looked up, frowning. ‘With you?’
‘Yes, with me. Damn it, Edie, you know what I’m asking.’
‘You’re … you want me to go to the pictures with you?’
‘Aye, well, you aren’t forced to,’ he said, retreating into surliness in his embarrassment.
‘I can’t … you’re asking …’ She stared at him. ‘I don’t bloody believe this!’
‘All right, London, I get the idea,’ he growled. ‘Forget I asked.’
‘You know, I’d actually started to think you might be a decent chap. Giving Davy his job back, letting us have the chicks, and then all those times it was only the two of us and you never … I’d begun to hope there might be more to what happened with Tilly than met the eye. But you’re just another man, aren’t you, Sam? Only after one thing.’ She shook her head in disgust. ‘The girls tried to warn me what you were up to. I should’ve listened.’
He frowned. ‘What was that about Tilly?’
‘You’re responsible for her condition. You got her in the family way then you refused to marry her. You admitted as much to Vinnie.’ She met his eyes with a glare of challenge. ‘And I was going to be next, was I?’
‘You weren’t going to be anything,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Well, do you deny it?’
‘That I refused to marry Tilly Liddell? Aye, I do deny it.’
Edie blinked. ‘Pardon?’
‘Suppose I offered and she said no? What then, London?’
‘She … why would she do that?’
He turned away, his face red with anger and mortification. ‘You’d have to take that up with her.’
Chapter 21
Edie rarely arrived home before seven when she was working at Larkstone Farm. As she had quickly learned, there were no short days in lambing season. Tilly was usually waiting for her in the kitchen, and the two girls enjoyed a gossip together while Edie ate her evening meal. Today, of course, she was particularly keen to get her friend alone. But when she got to the kitchen, she found not only Tilly but Jimmy and Aggie, beaming as if they had an especially good piece of news to share.
‘Hullo,’ Edie said as she eased her tired body into a chair. ‘What’re you two monkeys doing up?’
‘We’re allowed. Mrs Hewitt says,’ Aggie told her. ‘We got special permission to wait for you so’s we can give you a surprise.’
Edie felt that she’d had enough of surprises today, but she could tell the two of them were bursting with excitement so she played along.
‘Is it a nice surprise?’
‘Oh, very,’ Tilly told her, amusement sparkling behind her sober expression. ‘Show her, Ag.’
‘Right, this is my surprise,’ Aggie said with an important air. ‘Jimmy’s got a s
urprise too, but Tilly says I’ve to give you this one first because you’ll be starved.’
Edie laughed. ‘She’s not wrong. Is it a food surprise then?’
Aggie nodded eagerly. She looked at Tilly, who put a plate of cheese pudding and spring greens down in front of Edie with a flourish.
Edie eyed the pudding warily. ‘It hasn’t got one of those snakes on a spring inside it, has it?’
‘No,’ Aggie said, bouncing on her heels. ‘Eat it, Edie. I mean, eat it, please,’ she said after a look from Tilly.
Edie swallowed a forkful.
‘It’s delicious,’ she said, blinking. ‘Should I be surprised by that?’
Aggie couldn’t contain herself any longer.
‘I made it!’ she burst out. ‘Jimmy helped too. Tilly let us make it for your dinner and she says it’s betterer than anything she could make.’
‘She’s right,’ Edie said, with an apologetic grimace for her friend. ‘It’s the best cheese pudding I’ve ever eaten, that’s for sure. Thank you, both of you.’
Aggie beamed with pride.
‘Jimmy’s got something to show you too,’ Tilly said. ‘Haven’t you, Jim?’
He answered with a shy nod.
‘Go and get it then,’ Tilly said.
The little boy bounded from the room and came back with his school exercise book, open at today’s work. Several lines were filled with writing, each spelling out ‘James Adam Cawthra’ in letters that became steadily more legible as Edie looked down the page.
‘Jimmy! Did you write this?’ she said.
He nodded eagerly.
‘All on his own,’ Aggie said, glowing on her brother’s behalf. ‘He said the teacher helped a bit with the first one – only a little bit – but all the others Jimmy done just himself. Ain’t he clever?’
‘I always knew he was,’ Edie said, smiling at the pink-cheeked little lad. She ruffled his hair. ‘Well done, Jimmy, I’m ever so proud of you. If you keep practising your letters with me and Uncle Jack, I bet you’ll be ahead of everyone when you go into the big class.’
Aggie’s brow darkened.
‘What’s the matter, sweetheart?’ Edie said gently.
‘Maybe he won’t get to go into the big class. Maybe we’ll get sent back to Bet.’
‘Are you still worrying your daft little head about that?’ Tilly said, flicking one of her pigtails. ‘We told you: no one’s going to send you away, not this time.’
‘They will if the war finishes,’ Aggie muttered. ‘I hope it never, ever ends.’
‘Ag, you oughn’t to say that,’ Edie said. ‘The war’s a terrible thing. People are dying because of it, all over the world.’
‘If it’s wicked to say, I don’t care,’ Aggie announced defiantly. ‘I don’t want the stupid war to end. I want to stay here, where there’s food an’ no one boxes your ears for talking too loud an’ … an’ …’
All of a sudden she burst into tears. Edie cast a worried look at Tilly before folding the little girl into a hug.
‘Now, don’t you worry,’ she said softly as Aggie buried her face in Edie’s shoulder. ‘If you don’t want to go back to Bet, you won’t.’
‘You mean we can stay here? Mrs Hewitt’ll let us?’
‘Well, I don’t know about that. But you shan’t go back to a home where you’re starved and beaten. I’ll make sure of it.’ Edie’s face knit into a determined frown. ‘Whatever it takes, I will.’
‘Promise?’
‘Cross my heart.’
That seemed to satisfy Aggie. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, and the sight of Edie eating her cheese pudding – pausing after every mouthful to compliment Aggie on the texture, flavour and anything else she could think of – soon had the little girl smiling.
Edie had nearly finished when Prue put her head around the door.
‘Children, you ought to be getting to bed,’ she said in the stiff, formal voice she always used to address them. ‘You may read a little before lights out if you wish, Aggie.’
Aggie cast an anxious look at Edie, who understood. She swallowed down the last mouthful of her cheese pudding with an appreciative ‘mmm’, and the girl broke into a grin.
‘Scrumptious,’ Edie said. ‘Aggie, I need to have you make all my meals.’
Tilly laughed. ‘Oh no, what have I done? I won’t have a job by the end of the week.’
Aggie giggled.
‘Here, can I have them?’ she asked, pointing to the handful of crumbs on Edie’s plate. ‘I mean, please can I?’
‘You’re not still hungry, are you?’ Tilly asked. ‘You had three helpings at dinnertime.’
Edie smiled. ‘I think I understand. They’re not for you, are they, Aggie? You’re saving them for Pepper.’
Aggie gave a shy nod.
‘I’m not sure crows are supposed to eat cheese pudding but I expect a tiny bit won’t hurt.’ Tilly shook the leftovers on to a piece of brown paper and wrapped them up. ‘There.’
‘Thank you, Tilly.’ Aggie graciously submitted to a kiss from both the women, as did Jimmy, then she took her brother’s hand to take him up to bed. ‘Night night.’
‘They’re really flourishing, aren’t they?’ Edie observed when she and Tilly were alone.
‘I know. All it took was a bit of kindness.’ Tilly glanced at the door. ‘Jimmy still won’t speak though.’
‘He will when he’s ready.’ Edie smiled. ‘So were they cooking with you all afternoon?’
‘Yes, I told Jack to send them in when they got home from school. It keeps them out of Prue’s hair, and they loved helping to make your dinner.’
‘You see? You’re a natural mum.’
‘I certainly feel a lot less terrified by the prospect than I did before they came.’ Tilly poured them both a mug of tea and heaved her huge body into the opposite chair. ‘Oof,’ she groaned. ‘I’ve got at least another six weeks of this and already I’m the size of the Albert Hall. You don’t suppose it’s twins, do you?’
‘God couldn’t be so cruel.’
Edie stared down into her mug, wondering how to bring up what she wanted to discuss.
‘So, good day at work?’ Tilly asked, as if reading her mind.
‘Yes and no.’ Edie looked up. ‘Sam tried to make a date with me today.’
Tilly frowned. ‘What?’
‘He asked me to go to the pictures with him.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said …’ She took a deep breath. ‘I said I couldn’t even think about walking out with a man who’d dealt so unfairly with someone I cared about.’
Tilly looked away. ‘Edie, you shouldn’t listen to idle gossip. I told you my story.’
‘It’s all right, Till. You don’t need to lie any more.’ Edie rested a hand on hers. ‘I know.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Sam admitted it. To Vinnie, and to me when I confronted him today. Besides, it’s all over the village.’
‘Sam Nicholson … is a good man,’ Tilly murmured, blinking back a tear.
‘Are you in love with him?’
‘With Sam?’ She smiled. ‘Now there’s a thought.’
‘He told me he asked you to marry him.’
‘Yes,’ Tilly whispered. ‘That’s true. He asked me to be his wife and I refused.’
‘But why would you do that? If the two of you were married, that would solve all your problems, wouldn’t it? The baby would have a father, you’d both be provided for …’
‘It isn’t that simple, Edie.’
‘Why not? I know you like him. He’s got his own livelihood, he’s handsome, not to mention that you’re having his baby. I can’t understand why you wouldn’t have him.’
‘Perhaps I’ve got just enough romance left in me to think a man might want me for love rather than duty,’ Tilly said in a quiet voice. ‘Is that so strange?’
‘What makes you think it isn’t love?’
‘A girl always knows.’ Tilly pushed away her tea
. ‘I think I’ll go up to my room. I’m not really in the mood to stay up late.’
Edie looked up at her. ‘I upset you, didn’t I? Till, I’m sorry. I just hate to think of you being badly used.’
Tilly summoned a smile. ‘I’m not upset. Tired, that’s all. I am very pregnant, you might have noticed.’ She patted Edie’s shoulder. ‘Goodnight, Edie. And please, sweetheart, you must stop worrying about me. I know what I’m doing.’
Chapter 22
Edie was hoeing with Jack the following Wednesday afternoon when Jimmy and Aggie came running towards them, satchels and battered cardboard gas mask boxes banging against their sides. That meant it must be about quarter to four. Edie could set her watch by the children: every day, as soon as they arrived home from school, they came running to say hello.
She’d just been reflecting on her scene with Sam the week before, and worrying how the two of them would get along on the farm tomorrow. It had been Friday afternoon when she’d confronted him about Tilly, but she hadn’t seen him since. When she’d arrived at work on Saturday morning she discovered Sam had gone rabbit-shooting, leaving a note allocating them their tasks. Clearly he was in no hurry to face her again.
Did she owe him an apology? It did seem that the situation between him and Tilly was more complicated than she had suspected, but that hardly absolved him of getting her friend pregnant in the first place.
The date he’d wanted to make with her though – what did that mean? Edie wasn’t sure how she ought to feel about it. Her wariness of him as the seducer of her friend had prevented her thinking of Sam Nicholson as anything more than her boss before now.
Anyhow, it didn’t make any difference. No matter how Edie felt about Sam, she couldn’t walk out with the father of her friend’s baby. Even if he wasn’t a complete cad – even if he had wanted to do the right thing, and it had been Tilly’s decision to refuse him – she couldn’t do that. He was soon to become a father, and whether married to his child’s mother or not, that came with certain responsibilities which she had no intention of interfering with.
She had been surprised, though, to discover Sam had tried to join up. Edie had never believed him to be a coward, but she had thought that like Prue, he saw the war as something foreign and far away; not his concern. It had come as a shock to learn he had been as adamant to fight the forces of evil as she had herself, and, like Edie, been robbed of his chance.
Edie's Home for Orphans Page 19