‘Hmm? Oh, sometimes I bid but often I just look and make a note of what’s selling. You need to know the market in this game. Then I’ll perhaps sell a piece privately at a good price.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Jeanie confessed.
‘That doesn’t matter. So long as I do,’ he laughed. ‘You’ll soon work it out. But remember not to make any gestures that could be mistaken for a bid.’
They sat in a large and stuffy room where rows of hard chairs were set out. Frederick acknowledged a few people with nods and smiles. Most of the chairs were occupied but when the auction got under way people wandered in and out between the lots.
Jeanie tried to concentrate on everything at first but after a while she started to get bored. The room was hot and she wanted to take off her coat but was too ashamed of her work clothes to do so.
After what seemed like hours of countless dreary paintings and ugly vases, relieved only by the occasional piece of any beauty at all, her attention was grabbed by the sound of a familiar name.
‘… portrait … thought to be Flora MacDonald, the heroine of Skye …’
‘Your Flora!’ Jeanie whispered.
‘Indeed.’ Frederick squeezed her hand and they settled down to listen to the bids.
At first the bidding was slow and Jeanie was disappointed. It seemed few people were interested in Flora, after all. But then a few started to show interest and the price rose more quickly. Soon Jeanie was jiggling in excitement in her seat like Robert did when there was a sponge pudding, and she found herself clutching Frederick’s arm in excitement. He gave her hand a squeeze and smiled into her happy face as the bids came thick and fast.
When the portrait sold for £150 Frederick declared himself well satisfied and Jeanie felt as if her eyes were on stalks at the sum.
They went outside for some fresh air then.
‘That’s better. It’s getting a bit crowded and airless,’ Jeanie said. ‘Oh, but that was fun! I felt as if I was holding my breath with the suspense.’
‘Why don’t you go and get a cup of tea? There are a couple of things I might be interested in, which are coming up shortly, and I’ve got to sort out the business with the portrait, too. There’s a teashop over there. I’ll come and find you in a little while, if that’s all right?’
‘Thank you,’ said Jeanie, glad to stretch her legs.
When Frederick joined her it was rather longer than ‘a little while’ and she’d lingered over her tea for so long that the miserable-looking waitress had asked her three times if there was anything else she wanted. Jeanie, however, refused to be cowed by her surliness. Be bold, she told herself. That was going to be her touchstone from now on. Michael had imposed this new life on her but she was determined to make of it what she could. And if that meant sitting waiting in a teashop, then that’s what she would do. She had as much right to be here as anyone else.
The doorbell tinkled and Frederick was there, dominating the room, turning every head. The waitress approached but stepped back as he strode over to Jeanie’s corner table and helped her to her feet as if she were a princess.
‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Jeanie,’ he said. ‘If you’re ready, shall we go home?’
‘Thank you, Freddie. Oh, but the bill …’
‘Allow me.’ He left a ten-shilling note on the table and they made for the door.
‘Thank you so much,’ said Jeanie graciously to the ill-tempered waitress, who was now simpering at Frederick, having seen the fortune on the table.
Jeanie emerged into the street, laughing. Frederick looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye as he took her arm and led her to the car, and Jeanie knew that he understood her exactly.
‘Did you bid for anything?’ he asked.
‘I did.’ She felt proud.
‘And were you successful, Freddie?’
‘I was. You’ll see all in good time.’ He gave a satisfied grin.
The drive back in the golden light of late summer was a treat for Jeanie. It had been an extraordinary day and she didn’t want the drive to end. She’d thought she’d be scrubbing the kitchen and dusting the books this morning, instead, she’d been on an adventure.
‘I shall take you home,’ said Frederick.
‘Thank you. That’s kind. I’m a lot later than usual. But Mum and Evie will have fed themselves earlier and Michael goes to the Red Lion if he doesn’t like the sound of what’s for dinner.’
As Church Sandleton came in sight, she turned to him and said, ‘I’ve had a lovely day, thank you. It was a bit of a holiday as I haven’t done a scrap of work, but I have done all sorts of interesting new things instead.’
‘My pleasure,’ said Frederick, driving down the main street and pulling up in front of Pendle’s.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ said Jeanie, grinning. ‘Better tackle that kitchen then.’
Frederick came round and opened the car door for her, then gave her his hand to help her out. ‘I’ve had a good day, too, Jeanie,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’ And then he bent and kissed her hand.
As she stood gaping in astonishment he got back into the car and drove away without a backward glance.
Well, I never … Jeanie watched him go, her hand raised in a wave he didn’t acknowledge. Jeanie gave a little chuckle, and quickened her steps as she went.
Robert came to the door, having heard the car.
‘You’re late, Mum. Who is that? What kind of car is that? Where have you been all this time?’
‘I don’t know, love,’ she said vaguely, not really listening, watching the red car until it was out of sight. She felt as though the day had been rather good, and that she would love to do it again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘You’re late,’ said Sue, echoing Robert.
Jeanie knew her mother was much too sharp to let the wool be pulled so easily. Yet she felt she didn’t want to share the whole day with her family. What was the point of her going to work to make her own way if she had to account for herself every time she came home, she muttered softly.
‘Out with it,’ Sue said, peeling some carrots, while the boys did their homework at the end of the table, just like they had in Shenty Street.
‘Frederick wanted to sell a painting and he took me with him to the auction, that’s all,’ she said, grinning as she remembered the excitement of the sale.
‘An auction?’ Peter looked up, his face full of interest. ‘Tell us what it was like, Mum.’
‘Hot and smoky,’ she laughed. ‘But it was exciting when the bidding started. The picture went for quite a lot in the end – I mean, we’d think it quite a lot – and Frederick was pleased. That’s how he makes his living.’
She wouldn’t mention the lunch at the hotel, she decided, and nobody asked whether she’d eaten earlier.
‘Tell me about your day,’ she asked Sue to distract her. ‘Where’s Evie?’
‘Oh, we’ve had a good one,’ said Sue. ‘Evie’s getting to be a neat hand at stitching a hem. She’s upstairs writing to Billy. She’s still disappointed about the other week when he didn’t turn up.’ She and Jeanie exchanged meaningful looks. They’d keep their views on Ada and her convenient headaches between themselves for the time being.
‘So what are you working on?’ Jeanie asked, laying her coat over a chair back and putting on her pinny.
‘I’ve a fancy blouse to make out of one of those lengths from Marie’s fabric parcel, and tomorrow I’m going to go and measure up some curtains at Lavender Cottage.’
‘Oh, aye? That’s the one I spotted the day we arrived here, isn’t it? On the way into the village – looks really pretty?’
‘That’s right. Miss Richards, she’s called. Nice woman, fifty-ish, sensible shoes and good clothes. I’ll be sure to give you a full report of the house,’ laughed Sue.
‘I shall expect nowt less,’ Jeanie replied. ‘Not a lot gets past you, Mum.’
‘You’re right there, lass,’ said Sue, and gave her daughter
a sideways look. ‘At dinnertime Michael said he’s going to be a bit later this evening. Something about a lot of marrows …’
‘So how was school today, Bob?’ Jeanie asked.
Robert had sunk lower and lower in his chair as Peter talked about what fun he was having at school. He’d watched how quickly Peter had done his homework, too, even though it was maths. And he had noticed earlier, as he sat reading a comic in the shop window while Sue and Evie worked, that Peter had got off the school bus with a whole group of other children, some of them older than he was, and they’d all been chatting and laughing. Robert had walked home from school along Church Sandleton High Street alone, as usual.
‘’S all right, I s’pose,’ he mumbled.
‘Only all right?’ questioned Jeanie. ‘Why, what’s wrong with it?’
‘Nothing …’
‘Have you found someone to play with at playtime?’
‘No … They all know each other already. They don’t want to play with me,’ Robert said.
‘Early days yet,’ said Sue. ‘You’ve not been there long, love. Just stick with it and you’ll be all right.’ She gave him a hug and he emerged from her well-padded pinafore with tears in his eyes.
‘There, love, don’t take on. Do you want me to speak to your teacher – what’s her name again?’ Jeanie asked.
‘Miss.’
‘Her name, Bob?’
‘Miss Grainger.’
Robert shook his head and Jeanie decided she’d try to speak to Miss Grainger anyway before the week was out.
They were disturbed by a thumping noise from the yard behind them and everyone turned to look through the window. Michael had come in down the side passage and was dragging something heavy with him.
Jeanie went to the back door. ‘What the …? Good grief, Michael, what on earth are those?’ She looked in horror at the contents of a large wooden box. ‘They’re not …? Oh, please, tell me they’re not all marrows?’
‘They are indeed,’ said Michael, straightening his back with a groan. ‘Mr Clackett says it’s a bumper year for them and he’s got these to spare so I thought you’d be able to do something with them.’
‘Oh, you did, did you?’ Jeanie gave him a hard stare. ‘Like marrows, do you, Michael?’ she asked meaningfully.
He looked taken aback. ‘Well, it is all food, Jeanie.’
‘They’re marrows, Michael. No one likes marrows, as far as I know,’ she said, shaking her head at the stupidity of her husband.
The others all crowded round to see and the boys lifted a few out of the box to test the weight of the monstrous vegetables.
‘This one’s as big as Bob,’ said Peter, raising one above his head like a weightlifter.
‘This one’s as big as Grandma,’ laughed Robert in turn, his tears forgotten as he tried and failed to lift the biggest marrow in the box.
‘Oh, Michael, I hope you like marrows,’ said Sue, ‘because you’re going to be eating an awful lot of them. And it was you that made such a fuss about having to eat so many vegetables over the summer.’
‘Well, you know what you can do with these marrows,’ said Jeanie, a smile playing about her mouth.
She caught Peter’s eye and they spoke in unison. ‘Stuff ’em!’
After they’d eaten their evening meal – possibly the last one for a long time that wouldn’t include marrow – Michael took himself off to the Red Lion, as he so often did, saying there was a chance he’d be seeing Jack Fletcher there.
‘So,’ said Sue, as she and Jeanie sipped cups of tea at the kitchen table, ‘seems a funny sort of job, gallivanting off to auctions when you reckon to be a housekeeper?’
‘It was only a little trip. I think Frederick wanted some company on the drive to Kingsford and he asked me, that’s all.’
‘And does he intend paying you for a day’s work while you provide him with “company”?’
‘Don’t you make it sound like something it’s not,’ said Jeanie. ‘I expect he’ll pay me for my time. I’ll be there tomorrow cleaning and getting in a bit of shopping for him, and doing all the work I usually do. Don’t make more of it than it was, please.’
Sue reached out and patted Jeanie’s hand. ‘I do understand why you want to make a bit of a life for yourself after being a wife and a mum and a washer of other people’s clothes, but you won’t forget that you’re still a wife and a mum, will you?’
‘I won’t be forgetting that ton of marrows,’ Jeanie sighed wearily, looking with distaste at the box of the vegetables now taking up a lot of space in the kitchen.
‘We can store some of them. If they’re kept dry they’ll last a long time,’ Sue said.
‘We’ll need a saw to get through them by November,’ Jeanie smiled. ‘They’ll become armour-plated if we leave them too long. Don’t you have a recipe for marrow jam somewhere?’
‘Aye, lass, I believe so.’ Sue heaved herself to her feet and went to find it, leaving Jeanie feeling happier now that her mother’s attention was distracted from herself.
It has been a lovely day – not like any day she’d ever had before – and if Frederick asked her to go on another such trip with him she wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. Why should every day be alike, stretching ahead for ever, just the same old thing and so little fun? Why shouldn’t new and exciting things happen, even to her?
Evie and Robert made a miserable pair as they skirted a field of stubble, the greying stalks scratchy against their legs above their ankle socks.
Evie had been pleased to receive the letter of explanation and apology so quickly from Billy. It really hadn’t been his fault that he’d had to stay to look after his mum, and Evie would have thought very badly of him if he’d taken the train and left Mrs Taylor feeling poorly. But it was such bad luck – the one day they had arranged to meet …
Since then they’d exchanged a few letters but it wasn’t the same as meeting up, and Evie was missing Billy so much that it felt like a weight in her stomach. The only good thing was that the sewing business had taken off even better than she and Sue had hoped. People had been friendly when they came to the little dressmaker’s premises and it felt like the family was beginning to settle into village life. Only Robert was finding it hard.
Evie looked at him now as he slouched along, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched, a look on his face that would sour milk.
‘What is it, Bob? Is it just school that’s bothering you?’ she asked.
‘Just school? Just? School’s everything – it’s all that happens to me, and it’s awful, Evie.’
Robert mooched along in silence for a few minutes, his eyes fixed on the dusty field. They climbed a stile into the woods, which was a favourite place they’d discovered over the summer. Now, the first leaves were beginning to show gold in the evening sun, and the pathway they liked to take felt cool and damp.
‘Let’s go to the stream,’ suggested Evie, remembering happy times in the summer holiday when Robert had gone there fishing with Peter and Martin Clackett.
Robert grunted and let himself be led along the rough dry track to the stream. In summer the water level had been low, but with the arrival of autumn it had started to rise. They sat down on a fallen tree trunk and watched the stream flow by, alive with insects, midges dancing in the golden light.
‘Look,’ whispered Evie. She raised her arm slowly and pointed to a rabbit on the path down which they’d come. It was nibbling on some plant in the verge, then hopped away. It made her smile.
Robert looked up into Evie’s face, smiling. ‘Brilliant,’ he said. ‘That’s something we didn’t see in Shenty Street.’
‘Too right, Bob.’
‘Though I think I prefer there to here.’
‘Do you, now? Why’s that, then?’
‘’Cos Pete and I went to the same school, and … I knew what it was like there. It’s different here.’
‘Can’t stay the same for ever, Bob. You know that. But we’ve still all got each other and that’s not
going to change.’
‘Well, I don’t have any friends. At home … Shenty Street … I had Paddy, Niall and Cormac Sullivan to play with.’
‘You’ll make new friends—’
‘No I won’t! The other children are horrible. They talk different and they make fun of me.’
‘How?’ Evie was concerned.
‘By pretending to talk like I do – like we all do – and making fun of it.’
Evie sighed. ‘I think they must be daft,’ she said. ‘Folk speak like us in Lancashire, and here they speak differently. Who’s to say who’s better? If they were in Shenty Street they’d be the odd-sounding ones, I reckon. We know that, and if they don’t then I think they’re a bit stupid. If they keep on at you, you’ve got to tell Mum or Grandma.’ Robert looked happier but he mumbled something about not wanting to be a sneak, which Evie ignored.
As they lapsed into daydreaming about Shenty Street, the Sullivans and Billy, a water vole swam up the stream right in front of them. They both saw it at once and remained completely still and silent until it disappeared.
‘Time for us to go home, too, Bob,’ said Evie. ‘It’s getting damp.’ She shivered, then took his hand. ‘Come on,’ and she ruffled his hair as they set off home together.
For a while, as everyone chatted, the clock ticked and the day grew closer to evening, everyone set about their business and the house grew quiet.
The children and Sue had gone to bed by the time Michael staggered his way home down the main street from the Red Lion, but Jeanie was up waiting for him. She’d spent the evening looking out recipes for cooking marrow, but then her mind wandered and she’d gone over every moment of her day with Frederick from when she’d first let herself into Marlowe House and daydreamed it was her own.
‘Oh, Michael! You look like you’ve had a busy evening …’ He stumbled inside, beer on his breath, and Jeanie quickly locked the front door.
‘I have that,’ said Michael with a hiccup, taking the cup of tea from her hand. ‘We had a few games of darts.’
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