by Diane Allen
22
The summer months were flying by. Daisy had never known the year pass so quickly. It had been a glorious summer, the sun had shone and she had been so busy. The house at Mill Race was now nearly ready to be moved into. The only room that had not been touched was Daisy’s original bedroom, and she had not plucked up the courage to open the door and walk into what had been her jail for the term of her pregnancy. Today she stood on the landing with her hand on the door knob, willing herself to open the door. Today was the day she would step back into her bedroom.
‘Hello, hello, anybody here?’ A voice drifted up the stairs, just as Daisy was about to turn the door knob and enter.
She breathed a sigh of relief. She knew it was stupid, but she felt that once she opened that door, it would be like opening Pandora’s box and all the evils of the world would come spilling out.
‘I’m here – coming,’ shouted Daisy, recognizing Sam’s voice. She looked back at the door and then lifted up her skirts, before running down the stairs to Sam, who stood looking around the spotless kitchen.
‘By heck, lass, this spot gets better every time I come. You couldn’t live in a bonnier place. You’ve tidied the garden and all. I’m glad you’ve kept that old rambling rose around the door – it smells so bonny.’
‘I’m shattered, Sam. I’m working here and working at Grouse Hall, and making your father various preserves. I’ve never been so busy in my whole life.’ Daisy sat down in her father’s old chair.
‘Well today, my girl, make it a day off, because you’re coming with me.’ Sam grinned.
‘No, I can’t, really I can’t. I haven’t got time. I’ve got to tackle my old bedroom – it’s the last room to be done, and then I can move in before the autumn. And, once that’s sorted, I won’t have much else to do.’
‘I’m not taking “no” for an answer. I’ve to take this lemon cheese and bramble jelly to my father – he’s got a stand at the Moorcock Show. So it’s time you had a day off, for you’ve never stopped. Besides, I’ve some business to do there.’ Sam picked up the jars full of preserve and put them into his basket, which was emblazoned with the name ‘Luke Allen’ on it. ‘Come on, get your hat on and lock that door. We’re off and no, I won’t let you stay here.’ Sam patted her bottom affectionately while Daisy tried to protest. ‘Call it customer relations, because my father will be showing you off to everyone. He’s over the moon with his sales.’
‘But I’ve so . . .’ Daisy didn’t want to go, for she knew all the locals from the surrounding Dales would be there.
‘Get a move on. I’ll be waiting in the trap. I’ll treat you to a ride in the swing-boats.’ Sam giggled like a small child.
‘We are too old for the swing-boats – they are for children.’ Daisy shook her head.
‘You’re never too old. I go on them every year.’
‘Oh! So I’m not the first woman you’ve led astray on the swing-boats.’ Daisy picked up her straw boater from the hat stand and secured it with a hat pin, while viewing herself in the coat-stand mirror and smiling at Sam’s shocked face.
‘I go on them with my mates. I’ve never been on with a woman.’
‘Go on then. I suppose there will be plenty of wet days to tidy my bedroom out. I didn’t want to do it anyway.’ Daisy just hoped there would be nobody at the show from the farms around Gearstones Lodge. They were bound to recognize her – she hadn’t changed that much. But, it was a day out with Sam, whom she now knew that she loved. Everything would be all right if she was with Sam Allen.
The road up to the Moorcock Show was busy with farmers and their wives herding sheep and carrying wares to sell, and with couples and children eager to get to the big show-field set in the bottom of Garsdale valley. It was the end of summer and almost the beginning of autumn, and it was time for Dales folk to show off their best sheep and sell surplus produce to add to their meagre living.
Sam waved and talked to nearly everyone they met. They all knew Sam Allen, for his father owned the main grocery shop in Hawes and was one to count as a friend. The men tipped their caps and bowlers, while the women looked at Daisy by his side and either smiled weakly or whispered behind gloved hands.
‘Come on, lass, let’s get this to Father and then we can have a look around. My mother’s come to help, so I can have an hour or two off.’ Sam climbed down from the trap and walked with the horse, guiding it through the crowds while Daisy held onto the basket of produce.
‘Am I glad to see thee. I’m nearly out of bramble jelly, and my bread’s almost all sold. I suppose when it’s gone, it’s gone, but I could do with another few loaves – nowt like making money when the sun’s shining.’ Luke wiped his brow as some more coins jingled into his hand.
‘You want nothing with more bread – we’ve enough here. You don’t half panic, Luke, just calm down. Hello, Daisy. Your lemon cheese, jam and jelly are selling well – we’ll be needing more before the end of the week.’ Mary smiled at Daisy, before serving the customers bustling around their stall.
‘I’m going to tether the horse up, and then Mary and I are going to have a wander around. Is that all right, Father?’ Sam looked back at Daisy, whose gaze was wandering. She was taking in all the people gathered at the show, along with the smells of cooking and the shouts of the stallholders, mixed with the bleats of the sheep being shown.
‘Aye. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do – that means tha can do owt tha likes.’ Luke belly-laughed as Mary scolded him.
Sam put his arm through Daisy’s and they meandered past the long skirts of farmers’ wives and children running along with their fraught fathers. Daisy felt as if all eyes were on her, and that she was being talked about. Yet she knew it was her own mind playing tricks.
Sam leaned over a pen of Swaledale sheep and pretended to be judging them, until the dancing bear with its owner caught his eye and he dragged Daisy by the hand, to watch the poor creature doing its trick for the awestruck crowd. The bear teetered on a red drum and was made to stand on one leg, as the crowd clapped and applauded. Its eyes were full of fear and pain, and it was made to clap its paws together in recognition of the crowd.
‘I don’t like this, Sam. The poor creature’s being whipped and prodded. Look at the heavy chain and muzzle on its mouth.’
‘It’s better having the muzzle on than taking a chunk out of us.’ Sam smiled at Daisy.
‘It would be better freed and taken back to the wild, where it came from.’ Daisy closed her eyes as some children threw a stone at the poor creature, obviously leaving it in pain.
‘Come on, Daisy, I’ll take you to the swing-boats. The bear will be all right – it gets a rest between shows, I’m sure.’ Sam pulled her through the crowds until they came to the bright-red swing-boats. ‘Here, mister, there’s two of us.’ He pulled out some coins and gave them to the man in charge of the swing-boats, before climbing into the bottom of the wooden gondola, holding onto the rope that made it swing as he helped Daisy into the other side of the boat. ‘Here, Daisy, pull at the opposite time to me, and then we’ll see how high we can go.’
The man in charge of the swings gave them a push and then they were off. The iron rods that held the boat in place groaned as the couple laughed and pulled on the rope, making the swing-boat go higher and higher in the air. ‘Stop it, Sam, stop it! I’m worn out, I can’t get my breath.’ Daisy squealed as the boat lurched downwards again, and Sam grinned at her from high above. She really hadn’t wanted to go on the swing-boats, but she had enjoyed every minute on the fair ride.
‘All right, Daisy, we’ll stop now.’ Sam slowed his pulling on the rope and, with shaky legs, they both climbed out.
‘I’d better put my hat on straight. I bet I look a right mess.’ Daisy straightened her skirts and tucked a piece of stray hair back underneath her boater.
‘You never look a mess to me, Daisy – you are always perfect to me.’ Sam squeezed her hand. ‘Come and sit down by the beck with me; let’s have a bit of quiet
time together.’ His face looked serious as he held her hand tightly. They walked through the crowds to the edge of the field where the beck ran. There he took his jacket off and laid it on the dry grass of late summer. Both sat quietly, listening to the bubbling of the beck and the distant sounds of the fair.
‘Daisy, since early spring I’ve begun to think more and more of you.’ Sam held her hand. ‘I’ve never felt like this before. My mother was right: this is serious, for me anyway. What I’m trying to say . . .’ Sam put his fingers into his shirt pocket and pulled out a box. ‘What I’m trying to say, Daisy, is: will you marry me?’ Inside the box a delicate diamond engagement ring shone and glittered in the sunshine.
Daisy gazed in disbelief. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it, but it still came as a shock. And she knew her feelings for Sam were growing every day. Her heart missed a beat when he flashed his cheeky grin her way, and when his hand touched hers, it felt like being hit by a lightning bolt. She knew she loved him, but dare she marry him? It felt too good to be true. He was everything she had ever wanted, everything Bob had never been. Her eyes filled with tears.
‘Daisy, say yes; come on, say yes. I’ve plenty of money, and the business will be mine after my father’s day. I’m a good catch.’ Sam’s hand began to shake, as the ring within the box was not taken.
‘Oh, Sam, I’m frightened. You don’t really know me; there are things . . .’ Daisy looked at him. She loved the lad – she couldn’t say no.
‘Will you be quiet. I’ve heard all the talk and I’m not bothered. I know you, and I want you to be my wife. Besides, what’s my father going to do when he runs out of lemon cheese? He’s cancelled his order with Mattinson’s. Say yes, Daisy. I love you, and you know it.’ Sam held out the ring, waiting for Daisy to slip it on her finger.
Through tear-filled eyes she nodded her head and held her shaking finger out. ‘I love you too, Sam. I just hope you don’t live to regret marrying me.’
‘And why in the world would I ever regret marrying you. I know exactly what I’m getting: a grand Yorkshire lass, who’s a better cook than my father. I win all round.’
Daisy smiled and gazed at the sparkling ring.
‘I love you,’ cried Sam, putting his arms around her and squeezing her tightly, before kissing her passionately on the lips, then on her neck and down to her breasts. ‘I love you, Daisy, and I’ll always be there for you.’
‘I love you too, Sam. I’ll not let you down.’ She raised his head gently to look into his eyes. ‘My mother always said we’d be a good match, but I never listened – that was before I knew you. But she was right for once, and you are everything I’ve ever wanted.’ She kissed the smiling Sam and lay down by his side on his jacket.
Sam ran his hand up the inside of Daisy’s leg, battling with her layers of skirt and petticoats while kissing her passionately. He placed his leg over her and whispered into her ear, ‘Go on, Daisy, let me, you know you want to. And now we are engaged, it’s all right.’
Daisy wanted to cry. She wanted to feel him within her, but her head was saying no. A ring meant nothing until you were married, but, God – she’d waited so long for Sam and her to be like this.
‘Go on, Daisy.’ Sam had his hands in her drawers, and every inch of her body was saying, Please me – please me in a way I’ve never been pleased before.
She nodded. She couldn’t resist, and tears filled her eyes as Sam entered her, passionately stroking her hair, her face and her most intimate parts. So this was what proper sex and love were – not rough and hateful, but sensuous and pleasurable. The couple entwined their bodies, forgetting the fair and the people gathered there, enjoying the pleasure of one another until they were exhausted.
‘I love you, Daisy. I just want to say that to you all the time – I can’t help myself.’ Sam lay on his back with Daisy next to him.
‘Aye, I love you, but we shouldn’t have done that, not really; not before we are married.’ Daisy was starting to worry. Her passion had got the better of her, and now panic had set in.
‘You’ll be all right, lass; you’ll be bloody unlucky if you are in the family way after having it just the once.’ Sam sat up and buttoned his trousers and shook the grass seeds from off his shirt.
‘I suppose so.’ But all Daisy could think of was that it had only been the once with Clifford Middleton, and that had had a terrible outcome. She combed her hair through her fingers and fitted her displaced boater on her head.
‘You’ll be all right. Stop worrying; we are to be married anyway.’ Sam held his hand out to her and pulled her up from his jacket, which he shook and then put back on. ‘Come on – they’ll be missing us, so we’d better show our faces. And, Daisy, keep the ring and our engagement quiet today. I want to pick my time to tell my mother and father – they’ve enough on today.’ Sam smiled as he linked his arm through Daisy’s and started whistling.
‘Of course, Sam. I understand.’ Daisy looked at her fiancé. She’d made a terrible mistake, and she knew it. All she’d do now was worry whether or not she was pregnant. She’d been in that situation before and had not forgotten the anguish that went with it.
Daisy stood in her former bedroom’s doorway. It had been a week since Sam’s proposal. Looking around her old bedroom, it felt as if she had never been away. Her bed with its rotting, dusty covers stood in the centre of the room, along with the marble-topped washstand and chest of drawers. On top of them were Daisy’s old toys: a rag doll that her mother had made her, and a tatty cloth cat that had once belonged to Kitty. She knew every inch, every crack of the room, and she hated it. It had been – and still was – a cell to her and, no matter how she cleaned it, it would always remind her of the guilt she’d carry with her all her life about her liaison with Clifford and subsequent conception.
She set to work, stripping the bed and folding up the ticking mattress into a roll. There were bloodstains on it – her bloodstains from childbirth. She pulled the whole lot down the stairs and out into the garden, putting it on top of an already-lit bonfire. There she watched it smoulder, slowly burning away the evidence of her guilt. Tomorrow she’d paint the walls of the bedroom and wash the floor and then, at the end of the month, she’d move into her new home – away from Clifford Middleton, her unsympathetic sister and Clifford’s son – ready for a new life.
23
‘You look surprised to see me.’ Sam stood on the doorstep of Mill Race cottage. ‘I went up to Grouse Hall, but they said you were here, getting ready to move in.’
‘I haven’t heard anything from you for weeks – not since Moorcock fair day. I thought you’d had enough of me.’ Daisy rubbed her engagement ring on her finger. She was relieved to see Sam, but also annoyed, thinking the worst of him as the days passed and, with them, his integrity.
‘What do you mean? You thought I’d have my wicked way with you and then leave you high and dry? Besides, Daisy, it’s only been three weeks, and we’ve been busy. Hawes has been heaving this last week or two, with sheep and lamb sales. The Penny Garth holding pen has been full every day and, where there’s sheep being sold, there’s hungry farmers – and money to be made.’ Sam rubbed his head with his cap and looked at Daisy’s worried face. ‘Anyway, I’ve come to pick up what you’ve made and take you to tea at home. With it being Sunday, and my father in a good mood with all the brass he’s been making, it’s as good a time as any to tell them our news.’
Daisy sighed with relief, and then panic set in. ‘But I’m not even dressed right. I’ve got to do my hair, and my hands are a mess from scrubbing my bedroom floor with soda.’ She gazed at her rough hands.
‘Does it matter? You should see my mother. Some days she looks like something the cat’s dragged in. It’s a good day for telling them. Besides, my mother knows you are coming and she’s guessed something’s afoot. She keeps looking at me strangely and nearly crying.’ Sam made his way into the parlour of Mill Race. ‘Go on, get changed and tidy. If you must change, I�
�ll wait for you here. You must have something fresh to put on here.’
He sat down on the reupholstered sofa, which had previously had mice nesting in it, and looked around him. She was a good home-maker, Daisy, and he’d done right asking her to marry him. Folk had told him all sorts: that she was after his money; that she shared Clifford Middleton with her sister; and that she cared for nobody. But none of them knew the real her – they’d just listened to the gossip spread by the evil Joshua Oversby at Yore House.
‘Are you ready, lass? It’ll be dark, if you don’t hurry up.’ Sam heard the floorboards above him creak. He put the waiting jars of preserves into his father’s basket and placed it on the floor.
‘I’m coming, I’m coming.’ Daisy rushed down the stairs, still pinning her hair tightly into place as she reached the bottom.
‘Aye, tha looks bonny. There’s a blush in your cheeks from rushing about.’ Sam put his arm around her waist. ‘Maybe we could have half an hour to ourselves? I bet your bed’s comfy upstairs – should we try it out for size? Just to see if it’s big enough for when we are married.’
‘No, we will not, Sam Allen. Your mother’s waiting for us, and I’m not being led astray again by your sweet talk.’ Daisy kissed him on the lips and pushed him gently away as he tried to demand more from her.
‘Bloody spoilsport. But you’re right. Let’s not put the cart before the horse, else me mother would never forgive me. God help me if I was to be a father before we were married. I take it we are all right, that way?’ Sam nodded at her.
‘Yes, you’re all right, so stop bothering. But we are not tempting fate again, not until we are married. I did nothing but worry until I knew I was all right. That was why I was cool with you, turning up on my doorstep after weeks of no word. I thought you’d gone and left me.’ Daisy blushed.
‘I’d never do that – you know I wouldn’t.’ Sam squeezed her hand and lifted the basket from the floor as the couple made their way outside to the trap and to tea at Luke Allen’s.