‘Only!’ Anna cried.
‘It – it wasn’t so bad.’ May tried to sound brave, but her mouth trembled. All she had ever wanted was to be taken care of, but instead she had lived with a brutal, greedy man.
‘Poor Mam,’ Anna murmured. Then, taking a deep breath, she asked, ‘What about Bruce?’
‘He stayed in the army and only came home on leave. And when he did, the conversation was always about finding you. Of course, part of me wanted you found – desperately – but on the other hand, I wanted you to stay hidden. I was so afraid that if they did find you—’ She needed to say no more. Anna shuddered.
‘Did Douglas go back to the solicitor again?’
‘Yes, and the second time – oh, Anna – ’ tears filled May’s eyes – ‘I didn’t really understand it all. I still don’t. Douglas handled everything, but I had to swear an oath in front of an independent solicitor that I believed you to be dead and that I was your next of kin. Eventually probate was granted and – and the farm came to me.’ May covered her face with her hands and wept. ‘Douglas made me sell it. I lost Clayton’s Farm, Anna.’ She shuddered. ‘Your grandfather must be turning in his grave.’
‘Oh, Mam, don’t. Grandpa would have understood. He loved you. He wouldn’t blame you.’
‘But I blame myself,’ May whispered hoarsely. ‘And the worst of it is it needn’t have happened. Douglas didn’t have the power to make me do anything, if only I’d known it.’
‘What do you mean?’
May was shamefaced. ‘I was never properly married to him. It – it seems he never got a divorce from his first wife. Oh, Anna, how could I have been so stupid?’
Anna did not answer her directly but asked instead, ‘Who – who has the farm now?’
Through her tears, May was able to smile. ‘Jed.’
‘Jed!’ Anna was startled. But then, as the realization seeped in, she said again, but softly now, ‘Jed.’
Again there was a long silence before May asked, ‘How did Douglas and Bruce find you after all this time? No one has told me.’
Anna explained that her rebellious teenage daughter had persuaded Tony to take her to Lincoln to see one of her idols.
‘It wasn’t their fault. I’d kept her hidden away so long without any explanation. She was bound to break out sooner or later. I see that now. I’m not really sure what happened exactly. All Maisie knows is that they were outside the cinema and a photographer took pictures of the queue. Tony thinks perhaps the picture appeared in the Echo complete with Maisie’s name and where she lived and they came looking.’ Her voice hardened. ‘Of course, when they got to the farm, Bertha couldn’t wait to tell them where I was. I expect she saw for herself then, the likeness of Maisie to – to Bruce.’
‘Is she like him?’ May asked, sounding as if she hated the idea.
Anna smiled. ‘She has his red hair and his brown eyes, but, thankfully, that’s the only way she resembles him.’ Anna squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘You’ll love her, Mam. I know you will.’
They glanced across the grass to see Maisie and Tony walking towards them. Anna caught her breath. Tony’s arm was around Maisie’s shoulder and Maisie’s was around his waist. As they drew closer, Anna felt tears fill her eyes, but now, after all these years, they were tears of joy.
Tony’s face was shining with happiness and Maisie was blushing as she laughed up at him.
It’s all right, she thought. Everything’s going to be all right. As they drew near, Anna, with one arm still around her mother, held out her hand towards Maisie.
‘Darling,’ she said, ‘come and meet your grandmother.’
Acknowledgements
My grateful thanks to Graham and Liz Jarnell for answering all my questions about sheep. Any errors, of course, are mine and not theirs! As always, my love and thanks go to my family and friends, especially my husband, Dennis, and those who read the script in the early stages: Robena and Fred Hill, David and Una Dickinson, Linda and Terry Allaway and Pauline Griggs. Your constant support and encouragement mean more to me than you can ever know.
Special thanks to the best agent any writer could have – Darley Anderson. Thank you, too, to all the ‘team’ at Macmillan, headed by my lovely editor, Imogen Taylor. You’re all absolutely wonderful.
Red Sky in the Morning
Born in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire, Margaret Dickinson moved to the coast at the age of seven and so began her love for the sea and the Lincolnshire landscape. Her ambition to be a writer began early and she had her first novel published at the age of twenty-five. This was followed by a number of further titles including Plough the Furrow, Sow the Seed and Reap the Harvest, which make up her Lincolnshire Fleethaven trilogy.
Many of her novels are set in the heart of her home county but in Tangled Threads and Twisted Strands, the stories include not only Lincolnshire but also the framework knitting and lace industries of Nottingham.
Her 2012 and 2013 novels, Jenny’s War and The Clippie Girls, were both top-twenty bestsellers and her 2014 and 2015 novels, Fairfield Hall and Welcome Home, were both Sunday Times top-ten bestsellers.
ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON
Plough the Furrow
Sow the Seed
Reap the Harvest
The Miller’s Daughter
Chaff upon the Wind
The Fisher Lass
The Tulip Girl
The River Folk
Tangled Threads
Twisted Strands
Without Sin
Pauper’s Gold
Wish Me Luck
Sing As We Go
Suffragette Girl
Sons and Daughters
Forgive and Forget
Jenny’s War
The Clippie Girls
Fairfield Hall
Welcome Home
First published 2004 by Pan Books
This electronic edition published 2016 by Pan Books
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ISBN 978-0-330-54066-7
Copyright © Margaret Dickinson, 2004
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Model © Colin Thomas
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The right of Margaret Dickinson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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