Red Sky in the Morning

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Red Sky in the Morning Page 32

by Margaret Dickinson


  There was an awkward silence as if all of them were thinking the same thing. Luke would not have approved of May’s marriage or of the fact that Anna was longing for the day when Bruce returned.

  Betty nodded, comforted by Anna’s words. ‘They do seem nice lads,’ she said, ‘and at least if you say Pops would have approved of them—’ She didn’t finish the sentence and what she didn’t say seemed to hang in the air between them.

  ‘Here’s the lorry,’ Rita said and there was a further flurry of hugs and goodbyes and promises to write. As the lorry drew out of the yard, Anna followed it into the lane and stood waving until it turned a corner and disappeared from her sight. Slowly she walked back into the silent farmhouse and wandered from room to room. She would be sleeping here alone now and, though the fact didn’t frighten her, she knew she would be very lonely.

  Oh, if only, she thought, Bruce would come home.

  The months dragged on and another Christmas came and went. Whilst May and Douglas spent Christmas Day and Boxing Day with her, there was nothing festive about the atmosphere in the farmhouse.

  Anna did her best, cooking a goose with all the other Christmas fare that rationing would allow, but Douglas seemed ill at ease and fidgeting to get back to town. And May too no longer belonged at Clayton’s Farm – if she ever had, Anna thought wryly.

  There was no word of Bruce being home on leave or even of a date for his demob.

  ‘Do you think he’s signed on? He said he was going to.’

  Douglas frowned. ‘He’d better not have done, else I’ll have something to say about that.’

  Near the time of May’s birthday in May, she and Douglas arrived at the farmhouse unexpectedly one weekend.

  ‘Come on,’ Douglas said, ‘pack your case. We’re taking you back to town.’

  ‘But, I can’t leave—’

  ‘Of course you can. Phil and Maurice will manage for a few days.’ He smiled as he leant towards her. ‘And we’ve got a surprise for you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Aha, you’ll have to wait and see. Wouldn’t be a surprise if we told you, would it?’

  Anna was still doubtful, but when May said persuasively, ‘Oh please come, Anna, you haven’t seen our house yet,’ she gave in.

  ‘I can’t stay long though. There’s sheep dipping to do soon and I don’t think the lads’ll manage on their own.’

  ‘We’ll see, we’ll see,’ Douglas said and Anna saw him wink at May. As she packed an overnight bag, Anna began to feel excited. It would be nice to go to Lincoln, to go shopping. Perhaps they’d even go to Douglas’s cinema together and see a film. She’d like that. Perhaps that was the surprise.

  May showed her all over the semi-detached house she and Douglas had bought. Their new home was set on a road leading up the hill on the northern side of the city. Anna buried the thought that her mother’s money had paid for it.

  ‘They’re lovely houses, aren’t they?’ May enthused, flinging open the door of one of the three bedrooms. ‘And this is your room. We’ve had decorators in specially. Do you like it?’ she asked eagerly.

  Anna glanced around at the pink-flowered wallpaper, the pink bedspread and matching curtains fluttering at the window. ‘It’s – it’s lovely, Mam, but—’ She turned her gaze towards her mother. ‘But I won’t be living here. I’ll have to stay at the farm.’

  May flapped her hands. ‘But that’s only for a few years. Until you can sell it and come and live in the city with us. You might even be able to come before, if you put a manager in. Then you can get a nice job in an office and—’

  Anna shook her head. ‘Mam, I don’t want to work in an office. I want to work on the farm. I love it there. Besides, I couldn’t sell Grandpa’s farm.’

  ‘Oh, Anna, surely you’re not serious? You can’t really mean that you want to live out there? All on your own?’

  ‘I won’t be on my own.’

  ‘You will be at night when the workers have gone home. And we can’t keep driving out to the farm. Petrol’s still in short supply, you know.’

  ‘Bruce will be with me.’

  May laughed. ‘You can forget that, you silly goose. Bruce won’t want to live in the back of beyond any more than his father does.’ May shook her head and added bitterly, ‘If that stupid old man hadn’t tied everything up so tightly that we can’t sell the place for years, we’d be living in clover now.’

  Anna glanced around her. The words were out before she could stop them. ‘You don’t look to be doing so badly, Mam.’

  ‘Anna!’ May was appalled. ‘How dare you speak to me like that?’

  ‘You shouldn’t speak about Grandpa like that.’ Tears filled the girl’s eyes. ‘He loved us. Both of us.’

  May sniffed. ‘You, maybe, but I’m not so sure about me.’

  Appalled, Anna stared at her. ‘Of course he loved you, Mam. Look how they took us in at the start of the war and – and looked after us when Daddy—’

  ‘I know, I know, but – ’ May bit her lip – ‘I always felt that was more your grannie’s doing than his.’

  Anna was adamant. She shook her head. ‘No, no, you’re wrong. I know you are. He wanted the best for you. I know he did. And as for him not liking Douglas, well, maybe then it was only because he was concerned about you getting involved with someone else so soon after Daddy—’

  May said bitterly, ‘Oh, you don’t know the half of it, Anna. How could you? I’ve told you before that he didn’t like your father when I first met him.’

  ‘I know, but he came round, didn’t he?’

  ‘He was against me marrying him because Ken didn’t want to live on the farm. It was always because of the farm.’

  ‘But – but he was always nice to Daddy.’

  May laughed wryly. ‘Oh yes, after we had you. He came round very quickly when we gave him a grandchild. He even wanted me to christen you Anna Clayton Milton, but I drew the line at that. Such a mouthful. But he was quite happy then to think that there was someone else to pass his precious farm on to.’ She paused and then added pointedly, ‘He was right, wasn’t he?’

  Anna nodded slowly and said huskily, but with a firmness that her mother could not fail to notice, ‘Yes, he was.’ Then she added, ‘I’m sorry, Mam, I didn’t mean to cheek you.’

  ‘I should think so too. Douglas was right. He said you had a stubborn streak in you. Well, my girl’ – May put her hand on Anna’s shoulder and propelled her from the room – ‘there’s someone downstairs waiting to see you who might change your mind for you.’

  As they stepped into the sitting room Anna gasped aloud, for standing in front of the fireplace, resplendent in his army uniform, was Bruce.

  Anna flew across the room, her arms outstretched. Bruce caught her and swung her round.

  ‘How’s my best girl?’ he laughed and, though both Douglas and May were watching, he kissed Anna firmly on the mouth, ignoring her blushing protest.

  They had a wonderful weekend. Anna and May went round the city shops on the Saturday and in the evening they went to the cinema, Douglas having procured the best seats in the front of the circle.

  On the Sunday May packed a picnic and they went to the Arboretum, sitting on the grass in the warm September sunshine.

  ‘When do you have to go back?’ Anna asked Bruce for the first time. Until this moment she hadn’t wanted to broach the subject.

  Bruce lay back and put his hands behind his head. ‘Wednesday morning. Four whole days of leave.’

  ‘You won’t be going abroad again, will you?’

  ‘Dunno,’ Bruce said, squinting up at her. ‘I told you, I thought I might sign on after the war. Well, I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to become a regular. I like the army life.’

  ‘Oh, but what about—?’ she began and then bit her lip.’

  Bruce grinned. ‘What about what?’

  ‘Oh nothing.’ She glanced away from him and pulled at the grass.

  Bruce sat up. Softly, he said, ‘You were
going to say, “What about us?” weren’t you?’

  ‘Well,’ she said hesitantly then added hastily, ‘but maybe you don’t want – I mean—’

  ‘Of course I want. You’re my girl, aren’t you?’

  Anna blushed and nodded.

  ‘We can write to each other and when I come home on leave—’

  ‘Never mind about that.’ Douglas raised his voice and both Anna and Bruce realized that, though he had been lying back with his eyes closed, he had been listening to every word of their conversation. ‘Never mind about that,’ he said again, sitting up. ‘What you want to do is to get married. The pair of you—’

  Now May sat up. ‘Oh no, Douglas. Anna’s far too young. She’s only seventeen. There’s plenty of time—’

  ‘No, there isn’t,’ Douglas almost snapped. ‘This war should have shown you that, May. Youngsters have to grab their happiness. Just think about it. They haven’t even got to save up for a home of their own.’ He spread his hands. ‘Anna’s already got one. The farm. They can live on the farm. And you’ – he jabbed his finger towards his son – ‘can forget about signing on for years. What more could you want than a life in the country? You’ll be set up for life, the pair of you.’

  ‘But you said—’ May began, but Anna saw Douglas glare at his wife. ‘Never mind what I said. If it’s what they both want, then why make them wait, eh?’

  Still May hesitated as she looked across at Anna. ‘Is it what you want, love?’

  ‘Well—’ she glanced at Bruce. He was staring at his father as if he thought Douglas had taken leave of his senses.

  Ignoring him, Douglas boomed, ‘Of course it is,’ as if the matter had been decided. ‘Come on,’ he said, getting up. ‘It’s getting chilly. Let’s go home. Bruce, you help me pack up the picnic things. You two go and sit in the car. We’ll manage.’

  As Anna and her mother walked down the slope to where the car was parked on the road, she glanced back. Douglas was wagging his finger in Bruce’s face, whilst his son stared wordlessly at his father. It looked as if Douglas was telling his son exactly what he must do and that Bruce was not daring to argue.

  Later, after their evening meal, Anna managed to whisper to Bruce. ‘Will you take me back to the farm tomorrow morning? I have to get back and we need to talk.’

  Bruce nodded.

  Forty-Five

  ‘You don’t have to marry me, you know. Never mind what your dad says,’ Anna said as they drove back to the farm.

  ‘Who said I didn’t want to marry you?’

  ‘No one, but—’

  ‘Well, then, what are you going on about?’ Bruce snapped and Anna glanced at him and then fell silent.

  They did not speak for the rest of the journey and when they drew to a stop in the yard, Bruce leapt out saying, ‘I’ll bring your things in. You’d better go and make sure those lads you left in charge haven’t killed off half your stock.’

  As Anna climbed out and began to walk towards the house, Bruce flung up the lid of the boot and reached inside. For no particular reason, she glanced into the boot as Bruce was lifting out her bag.

  Beneath it, lying in the well of the boot, Anna was sure she saw two or three chicken feathers. Bruce slammed the lid. Anna stopped and stared at him.

  ‘How’ve they got in there?’

  ‘Eh? Come again?’

  ‘Those feathers? In the boot? How’ve they got in there?’

  For a moment, Bruce glared at her, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  She pointed. ‘In there. There’s some chicken feathers.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. You’re seeing things.’

  ‘Open the boot then. See for yourself. There’s definitely feathers in the boot.’

  Frowning, Bruce opened the lid once more and glanced inside.

  ‘There! Look!’

  Bruce slammed the lid once more. ‘So what? Them hen feathers get everywhere. So does their flipping muck. Last time I came here I got a right rollocking from my Sergeant when I got back to camp ’cos there was chicken muck on my boots.’

  Somehow he had turned the accusation against her, but for the rest of the day Anna could not put the memory out of her mind. The thought that perhaps Betty had been right after all crept insidiously into her brain.

  Bruce, however, seemed to have put the incident out of his mind. As dusk fell, he said, ‘I’d better be getting back to town then.’ He slipped his arm around her waist. ‘Unless you want me to stay the night. It must get lonely for you—’

  Anna shook her head. ‘No, you’d better go. It wouldn’t be right, you staying here. People would talk and I don’t think Mam’d like it.’

  ‘Dad’d talk her round. Oh, go on, Anna, let me stay.’

  ‘Well, you could sleep in the spare room.’

  ‘The spare room? I’m not sleeping in any spare room.’

  Anna gasped as his meaning became clear. ‘Oh no,’ she said firmly now, ‘in that case, you’re not staying.’

  Bruce let his arm fall away. ‘Please yourself. There’s plenty wouldn’t turn down an offer like that.’

  Anna gasped. ‘What – what do you mean?’

  Bruce grinned. ‘What do you think I mean?’

  ‘That you – you’ve been with other girls?’

  Bruce opened his mouth to retort and then suddenly he closed it again, then frowned slightly, almost as if he realized just what he had been going to say and had caught himself just in time. ‘I didn’t say that, did I?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Don’t jump to conclusions. All I said was, there’s plenty wouldn’t turn down the offer. Right?’

  ‘All right,’ Anna said in a small voice. Once again he had gained the upper hand in an argument.

  ‘So? Do I stay or do I go?’

  This time he could not argue when Anna turned away from him. ‘You’d better go.’

  From the kitchen she heard the car roar off up the lane until she could hear its sound no more.

  Suddenly, she felt incredibly lonely and regretted her prim refusal of Bruce’s company.

  The following morning, her eyes still heavy with sleep after a restless night, Anna went out into the yard. Clanging noises were coming from the cowshed. The morning milking was already under way.

  She peeked round the door to see Jed sitting with his head pressed against a cow’s side, the milk spurting into the bucket. He was whistling softly.

  ‘Morning, Jed,’ Anna said quietly, so as not to startle the cow.

  Jed twisted his head sideways. ‘Morning, Anna. Had a nice weekend?’ The question was not quite the polite enquiry it might have been. There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone and no friendly smile to accompany it.

  She gave a swift nod, but lowered her eyes. ‘Everything been all right here?’

  ‘Fine. Phil’s away up the fields to check the sheep.’ His reply was terse and to the point.

  ‘I’ll have breakfast ready for you all. How long will you be finishing milking?’

  ‘’Bout half an hour.’

  She was sitting in the kitchen, cupping a mug of tea in her hands and watching Jed devour a plateful of bacon, eggs and fried bread, when Phil burst in through the back door.

  ‘You know those lambs you kept back from going to market? To increase the stock?’ he began at once. Anna turned to look up at him and Jed stopped eating, his fork suspended halfway between the plate and his mouth.

  Anna rose slowly, guessing what he was going to say. ‘Yes?’

  ‘One’s missing.’

  Anna closed her eyes and groaned. ‘Oh no!’

  Jed’s face was grim. Hurriedly he finished his meal and rose to his feet. ‘We’d best have a good look round, but if we can’t find it, I reckon you ought to report it to the police this time, Anna.’

  Anna shuddered. He was right, of course, but the memory of the chicken feathers in the back of Douglas’s car was all too vivid.

  Forty-Six

  Over the next few
weeks no letters came from Bruce and Anna could not bring herself to write to him either. Perhaps their romance was over, she thought dully, almost before it had really begun.

  Douglas and May came out to the farm most weekends and never left without trying to persuade her to move to the city to live with them.

  ‘Why won’t you agree to put a manager in here? That young fellow, Jed, he’d be ideal. I know he’s only young but he’s got his uncle close by,’ Douglas said more than once, always angling his suggestions to appear as if he only had Anna’s best interests at heart. ‘It’s no life for a young girl like you stuck out here. Living all alone. Your mother’s worried sick about you. Think of your mother, Anna. You’re being very selfish, you know.’

  Anna said nothing but sighed inwardly. It was amazing, she thought, how both Douglas and Bruce seemed to turn everything around to being someone else’s fault.

  But Anna didn’t want to go. Oh yes, some nights she felt very lonely, but usually she was so tired that she went to bed early and slept the sound sleep of someone who had worked hard all day in the open air. Winter had been the worst with the long dark nights, but always the memory of Luke made her determined to stay. Her grandfather had left Clayton’s Farm to her. He knew she loved it and he had trusted her to carry on the family tradition. And now it was summer again, a year on from the end of the war. Things were getting better and there was plenty of work to keep her busy.

  ‘I’ll not let you down, Grandpa,’ she whispered into the darkness as she lay in bed. ‘I’ll never sell your farm. Never.’

  ‘Bruce is coming home on leave next week,’ Douglas told Anna toward the end of June. Has he told you?’

  ‘No. He – he hasn’t written lately.’

  Douglas frowned. ‘Not written? Well, I’ll have something to say about that when I see him.’ He patted Anna’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, love. You know what young fellers are. I expect he’s not much of a letter writer.’ He gave a bellowing guffaw. ‘Takes after his dad.’

 

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