Valley Affairs

by Valley Affairs (retail) (epub)

  ‘Stayin’ long, are yer?’

  ‘I’ll be working for Leighton for a couple of weeks. He needs help raising his root crops. He’s well behind and they should be in store. I’ve already seen him and he plans to ask someone called Maurice to give a hand too. Then, if I want it, there’s plenty of work repairing the hedges and cleaning ditches. Sidney is his only help now and they’re behind on all the autumn jobs.’ He smiled at her as she refilled her cup. ‘I won’t stay here all the time though. It wouldn’t be fair on you. But, if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay for a couple of nights.’

  ‘Stay as long as you like. If you can sleep in barns I’m sure you can get comfortable on my couch.’

  ‘Thank you. Now, tell me about young Oliver.’

  They chatted for most of the morning, and then George unwrapped a newspaper parcel from his bag and showed her two small fish he had caught that morning.

  ‘I stayed in the brickworks last night and was up at dawn so I wouldn’t be seen and went fishing. Then I wanted a wash before coming to see you.’

  He had stayed one night at a reception centre and, although his clothes had been cleaned and he had bathed, he had been conscious of the strong smell the place left on him. The carbolic soap and the process of disinfecting his clothes were two indignities he found more and more difficult to accept. It was rarely now that he used the places designed for ‘men of the road’, as they were euphemistically called, preferring to find a room when he had the money. In between he would still choose a warm hay-barn rather than one of the starkly clean, almost Dickensian centres.

  On arrival there, all who stayed had to strip for their clothes to be cleaned, then bath in strong smelling water. After washing, they were given a hot meal and a night’s sleep, followed by a good breakfast. They then had to do some small task to help pay for their accommodation.

  George usually volunteered for work in the garden, preferring that to scrubbing the long wooden bench tables, or mopping the stone floors and white-washing the walls. The only buildings in which George felt at ease were hay-barns, and Nelly’s cottage.

  Although he had stayed a night in the brickworks, he could still smell the centre’s strong disinfectant on his skin and on his clothes. He had tried to get rid of it by washing in the icy cold stream before putting on the new, albeit second-hand, clothes he had bought to visit Nelly.

  ‘George, I don’t like to think of you sleepin’ out these frosty nights. I don’t mind you stayin’ here, honest I don’t. The door doesn’t shut so you won’t find yerself locked out. Come an’ go as you please. ’Ere, what d’you say we ’ave a night out at The Drovers?’

  ‘About staying, I don’t know. But the night out, yes! I’ve been looking forward to that and with my new clothes on we might manage not to get thrown out!’

  They reminisced happily about the time last summer when a furious Evie had met them after they had gone from pub to pub and had been asked to leave by a landlord who insisted he did not serve tramps and gypsies. They went on chatting all afternoon and long into the night and fell asleep where they sat.

  * * *

  It was unfortunate for Evie that her first sight of George was when he was coming back from Leighton’s farm the following day. She was talking to Mavis Powell when Nelly and George came down the lane with the two dogs in tow and Nelly shouted out, ‘Evie, look! Yer dad’s back!’

  ‘Your father?’ Mavis frowned at the startled look on Evie’s face. Evie had just been telling her that she had been brought up in a large London house, without explaining that she and Nelly had only one room in it.

  ‘Your father?’ Mavis repeated. ‘I thought you said – you gave me to understand that your father was a highly respectable man, and he looks – well – an eccentric is he?’

  Evie uttered an explosive sound and in a low voice muttered fiercely, ‘That is not my father!’ and walked swiftly away.

  Mavis waited to see the man, curious to meet him, but Nelly walked past without a word and hurried to catch up with her daughter.

  ‘Look who’s turned up!’ she shouted. ‘I found ’im bathin’ in the stream down by Billie Brown’s all but starkers. I ask you! In December!’ She laughed and George began to explain.

  Mavis heard the words ‘reception centre’ and went into her front door horrified. The man was a common tramp. She wondered angrily where Evie got her airs and graces from.

  When Evie went inside she called Oliver.

  ‘That dreadful man is back. You are not to go to see your grandmother until he is gone. D’you hear me? I forbid you to go there while that tramp person is staying there.’

  ‘But Mum—’

  ‘Mother!’ she corrected, her voice high-pitched with rage.

  ‘Please, Mother, can’t I even go and say hello? He is my grandfather.’

  He could not have said anything worse after Evie’s encounter with Mavis Powell. ‘He is not your grandfather, Oliver and I don’t want to hear such a foolish remark again. As if it isn’t enough putting up with your grandmother, I have people laughing at me because she married a tramp! Oh the shame of it.’

  ‘People say Gran is a character, Mother. Doesn’t that mean it’s all right if she does funny things like marrying someone like George?’

  ‘Saying she’s a character doesn’t excuse her behaviour, Oliver. Just stay away from her until he has gone.’

  ‘But if I see him I’ll have to say hello, won’t I?’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Oliver! Can’t you hear me? Are you too stupid to understand what I’m telling you?’ In her anger she was more unreasonable with him than she might otherwise have been. ‘We don’t want you to talk to the man. He’s an undesirable. He isn’t your grandfather. Do not have anything to do with him. Now do you grasp what I’m telling you, you stupid boy? Now get out of my way. Read your library book, that will be more useful than thinking about that awful man.’

  She went into the kitchen to unpack her shopping and Oliver heard her say to Timothy, ‘As if I haven’t enough to put up with, Oliver being so slow and so difficult, without my mother and her drink and her men-friends. I wish I could be shot of the lot of them! What chance do we have of leading a decent life with a family like this?’

  ‘Don’t be hard on the boy, it isn’t his fault.’

  ‘Oh, I suppose it’s mine? I’m to blame for him being so thick he can’t even read as well as most seven-year-olds!’ Upstairs Oliver tore up his book and poked it down the toilet pan. He was still upstairs when Nelly and George knocked on the door and asked to see him, and were turned away.

  * * *

  Margaret and Oliver walked up the hill wondering whether to go and see Billie and May Brown. Although it was milder than of late, it was still tempting to head for the farmhouse and its big fireplace.

  Oliver’s parents had been invited to a dinner party and, although Evie disapproved of Amy, knowing she was the mother of two illegitimate children, it was very convenient to leave Oliver with her when she needed to go out. Today, as it was a Saturday, Amy had told him to come straight after lunch as Margaret would be glad of his company, and the children had set off for a walk without any real destination in mind, but their feet led them up the hill overlooking the dairy farm.

  They stopped and sheltered for a while behind a small hillock and ate the chocolate Amy had given them. Oliver pointed down at the stream below them. ‘That’s where Gran found George,’ he said. ‘Fancy washing in there. It must be freezing!’

  ‘Freddy used to fish there,’ Margaret said. ‘He said it was poaching but no one was likely to complain. He was caught once and Billie Brown came round to tell Mam not to let him go there again, but he stayed a while for a cup of tea and changed his mind. He said Freddy could go but always had to ask permission first, but Freddy never went again. He said he didn’t want Mam soft-soaping someone so he could catch a few stupid fish.’

  ‘What did he mean?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘Well, Mam looked at him and smiled an
d Freddy said she was flirting. He didn’t like that at her age.’

  ‘No, I suppose she is a bit old for that. Remember when we saw Maurice and that gypsy girl?’

  ‘And Freddy and that awful Sheila Powell. Freddy liked her but I don’t. I think she’s a flirt.’

  ‘She’s quite old too,’ Oliver said seriously.

  ‘Let’s walk along the bank for a while. We might see the kingfisher.’

  ‘Or see a fish jump.’

  They strolled along the high bank which had been broken by the autumn rains and hung over the water precariously. Slipping on a half-dried puddle, Margaret gave a sudden scream and slipped into the water. Oliver froze for a moment, horrified, then ran downstream, passing her before jumping in and grabbing her as she floated towards him. He lifted her out and they stood on the bank, covered in mud and slime, both shivering and crying.

  ‘I think we should go to Brown’s farm,’ Oliver said between chattering teeth. ‘It’s nearest and I think we need to get warm as quickly as we can.’

  They were still crying as, slipping and sliding in their wet shoes and trying in vain to get warm by wrapping their arms around each other, they pushed their way through hedges and ran through fields of cows and sheep. They arrived at the farmhouse just as Billie came out of the washing shed.

  He didn’t wait for explanations but called to his sister and they began undressing the frightened, shaking children. In a few moments they were wrapped in blankets in front of the roaring fire and drinking hot soup.

  ‘I’ve rung Amy, and as soon as you’ve finished that food I’ll drive you home,’ Billie said, coaxing Margaret to take another spoonful of the home-made broth. ‘She’s closing the shop and going straight home. You can go there as well, Oliver, as your parents are out.’

  ‘They might not have gone yet, but I’d better go with Margaret in case, hadn’t I?’ Oliver said hopefully. He would rather have someone there when his parents were told what had happened. Now the sudden danger was passed and they were warm and safe, he grinned happily at Margaret sitting opposite him in a heavy wooden armchair surrounded with cushions and blankets.

  Amy was already at the house and the fire burned brightly when they arrived. She tucked the children up in bed with hot water bottles straight away.

  ‘I’ll tell your mother what happened Oliver, you brave and clever boy,’ Amy’s eyes glowed as she looked at him. ‘She’ll be that proud of your quick thinking! You stay where you are for tonight. The doctor’s coming and I’m sure he’ll agree that you should stay put.’

  ‘Mother won’t mind being shot of me,’ Oliver said, without meaning to criticize. ‘I’d like to stay, I’m so warm now.’ The doctor saw both children and declared them fit and well. ‘But I’ll just look in in the morning to make sure,’ he said. ‘Leave them where they are until then.’

  ‘Yippee!’ Oliver said. He grinned at Margaret, ‘What an adventure!’

  ‘Everyone says how clever you were, Oliver,’ Margaret said seriously. ‘I could have drowned and so could you. If you’d jumped straight in we could have been ages reaching each other and getting out.’

  ‘I can swim,’ Oliver said. ‘I think I’m top of the class for that. I’m not stupid about everything, though Mam doesn’t think it’s as important as proper lessons. I haven’t done any life-saving before though.’

  ‘Goodness! How did you know what to do then?’

  ‘I remembered floating sticks under a bridge with George and Gran. George explained about running ahead if I wanted to catch my stick and not going into the stream to try to follow it.’

  ‘Thank you, Oliver.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ He smiled again and this time she smiled back.

  Downstairs, Amy began to shake as she realised how near the children had come to disaster. Billie went into the kitchen and made a pot of tea. He heaped sugar into it and stood over her while she drank.

  ‘Thank you for what you and Mary did,’ she said, trying to warm her chilled hands on the cup.

  ‘Diawl erioed, woman, who wouldn’t help a couple of half-drowned kids? Not that they were half-drowned,’ he added quickly. ‘Far from it. Oliver acted too quick for that. Wet they were, that’s all, wet.’ He watched as she drained the cup. ‘Want me to stay do you, ’til the Chartridges come back?’

  ‘Would you, Billie? I feel a bit odd. Frightened I suppose, thinking of what might have happened if she hadn’t had Oliver with her. Fancy young Oliver being so sensible. He’s always struck me as a fragile child, almost babyish. Far younger than Margaret, although they’re almost the same age. Yet he worked out how best to save her.’

  ‘Kids often surprise us,’ he said. ‘Your Freddy, he’s always seemed like a man yet he’s hardly sixteen. Heard from him have you?’ he asked, trying to take her mind off the accident. He persuaded her to talk about how she missed him and what she had learnt about his new life through his letters, and gradually she relaxed.

  When the knock came at the door, Billie answered it. Evie came in looking around for Oliver.

  ‘Where are they?’ she asked. ‘In playing the piano? I didn’t hear them.’

  ‘They’re in bed,’ Amy said as she came into the hall.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He isn’t ill, is he?’ Timothy asked.

  ‘No, he’s fine, but they both had a soaking.’ Amy explained what had happened, emphasising how well Oliver had coped with the emergency and had saved Margaret from a nasty fright, if not something worse.

  ‘Oliver! He could have died!’ Evie went white, ‘I’ll never let him out of my sight again.’ She was very upset and Timothy had to calm her down while Billie went out to make more tea.

  ‘Have you got anything stronger?’ Billie asked, and Amy pointed to the cupboard where she kept a bottle of brandy. Evie was persuaded to sip at a glass between tears.

  ‘It’s best to leave him here tonight,’ Amy said, her own fears fading in the face of Evie and Timothy’s anxiety. ‘The doctor said they were both perfectly all right, but he wants to see them again in the morning and they should stay in bed until then just in case.’

  ‘In case of what?’ Evie wanted to know, and the crying and panic began all over again.

  Finally they looked in at the sleeping children and left for their own home. Amy smiled her thanks at Billie.

  ‘I’m all right now. It was a help, you staying. That’s one thing I’ll never get used to, being on my own in a crisis.’

  ‘Call me if ever I can help.’ Billie said softly. ‘I’ll be glad to come, anytime.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said again. ‘Come by tomorrow to see them. I think they’ll want to tell the whole story over and over.’ For a moment she shook again. ‘Thank God they are here to tell it.’

  Driving home, Evie began telling Timothy that she would only allow Oliver out when she could accompany him, but Timothy for once disagreed. He insisted that Oliver shouldn’t be tied to his mother’s apron strings. He had noticed Oliver’s growing self-confidence and knew it would suffer a set-back if Evie made too much of the danger he had faced. He was enormously proud of Oliver’s actions and did not want him punished for his remarkable calmness and good sense.

  * * *

  A few days later, Evie opened the door to Billie Brown.

  ‘Called to see how Oliver is,’ he said, ‘and to bring him a little present for his bravery.’

  ‘Oh, thank you. Er, you’d best come in.’ Evie looked doubtfully at his disgustingly dirty wellingtons and was relieved when he slipped his large feet out of them and stood on her doormat in his thick socks. He followed her into the kitchen, lumbering after her, his large frame seeming to fill the hallway. Evie’s lips tightened. She did not really approve of people coming uninvited, especially someone as big and oddly dressed as this farmer.

  Oliver sat at the kitchen table eating his tea.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt your meal,’ Billie began. ‘I’ll come back later.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mr Brown. It
’s only Oliver eating and I’m sure he won’t mind being disturbed. My husband and I eat later.’

  Billie wondered at a family who didn’t eat together but said nothing.

  ‘Hello, Billie. Have you come to see how I am? The doctor said I’m “perfectly fit”,’ Oliver recited.

  ‘I’ve brought you a present, young man. Want to see it, do you?’

  Oliver looked at the man’s huge hands which were empty. ‘Yes please.’ He looked at the thick short coat Billie wore and at the torn pocket on one side. The other pockets looked very small, he thought, trying to peer into one. He hoped it wasn’t something useful like a pen and pencil set.

  ‘It’s outside in the van.’

  Oliver followed Billie outside and with Evie a pace behind. In the van was a collection of chains and some wooden parts.

  ‘What is it?’ Evie asked.

  ‘It’s a swing, Mum—Mother,’ Oliver said in excitement. ‘These long pieces and this piece will be the frame, those are the supports and there’s the seat. Is that right, Billie?’

  ‘Well done. Just tell me where you want it and I’ll get it up in no time. You’ll have to help me of course,’ Billie smiled.

  ‘Thanks!’ Oliver’s eyes sparkled as he looked at his mother. ‘Mam! What d’you think of that for a present?’

  ‘Mother,’ Evie corrected almost without thinking. ‘Well, er, where did you think to put it, Mr Brown?’ She sounded doubtful.

  ‘Somewhere on the back lawn? You tell me where.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know. It will make a mark, won’t it, where his feet touch? I don’t think my husband would like it. He’s very fussy about the grass, we’ve only just got it right after the neglect of the previous tenants.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Well, sorry. I didn’t think of that.’ Billie shrugged and looked at the disappointed boy. ‘Sorry Oliver, I’ll have to think of something else, won’t I?’

  ‘Mam, er, Mother, d’you think I could have it in Gran’s – Grandmother’s garden? I could use it then whenever I went there, couldn’t I? Would that be all right, Billie?’ He spoke nervously, hoping his mother would agree to the idea without considering it too deeply.