No Wings to Fly

by Jess Foley

  Lily put her hands up to her hat, checking it, then whispered with a little chuckle, ‘We shouldn’t be sitting here. We should be looking at the treasures, not using the place just to shelter from the rain.’

  ‘Ah, it’s all right,’ Tom said. ‘We’re not doin’ any ’arm.’

  She nodded, sighed, then turned fully to him. ‘Well, now, our Tom – let me look at you.’ She could see in his appearance the time that had passed. He was seventeen now and a little taller, though still with the lean, wiry look he had always had. He was, she thought, no longer a boy.

  ‘Well,’ he said, taking off his cap, ‘how do I look?’

  ‘How do you look? You look fine.’ She meant it. Although his jacket and trousers were worn, his polished boots were scuffed, and he was in need of a haircut, there was nevertheless an air of well-being about him, pointed up by the little white rosebud he had pinned in his lapel. He looked positive and bright, and more vital than she had seen him in years. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘you look fine, and as handsome as ever.’

  He laughed lightly, his voice echoing a little in the quiet. ‘Well, you look handsome too, our Lil. Though I’m bound to say you look a little bit older as well.’

  ‘Well, I am older.’ She smiled at him. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you.’

  ‘Ah, you too. Had you been waitin’ long?’

  ‘Just a little while.’

  ‘Sorry about that, but I ’ad to wait on Mr Ballantine. He’s the boss’s brother. He give me a lift in on the wagon. I’m to meet him again at ’alf-seven.’

  ‘Well – that gives us a while.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘Oh, Tom, you’re back, and you’ve got a job.’

  ‘Ah – and it’s a right nice place to work. Mr and Mrs Ballantine are really nice, and I got a neat little bed over the stables. It’s not grand, but I’m not after grand anyway. It’s fine for me. I’m there with two other blokes. We gets on just dandy.’

  ‘That’s so good to hear. I’ve been so concerned about you.’

  ‘Yeh, I reckon you ’ave, but I’m fine now – really.’ He leant back, stretching out his legs in their worn and mended corduroys. ‘Oh, Lil, it’s such a relief to be back down ’ere again. I don’t know why I stayed away so long.’

  ‘Why did you go, Tom?’ she said. ‘Why did you go to London in the first place?’

  He gave a little shrug. ‘Yeh, sometimes I asked meself that. I only know I felt I ’ad to get away somewhere.’ He paused. ‘See – I got dismissed from the farm at Halls Haven.’

  ‘Oh, Tom. You never told me that.’

  ‘Yeh, I got dismissed.’ He leant forward, and lowered his head. ‘It was the foreman. I was foolish, and somehow I let it out that I’d been in Wentworth, and he took against me.’ He shrugged. ‘So – I got me marchin’ orders.’

  Lily looked at his set profile, then said, forcing a smile, ‘So – you went to London. Imagine that.’

  ‘Oh, ah, I went to London all right.’ He turned to her again now. ‘Well, you ’ear the stories about it, London, and I knew of a chap who went there. So – I thought it might be the place for me. They say a fellow who’s prepared to work ’ard can make a good livin’ for hisself. So, I thought, why not?’

  ‘I wish you had let me know, Tom. I didn’t know where you were or what had happened to you.’

  ‘I know. I should’ve told you, but – well, I was moving about from one place to another while I was there. I was ’ardly in one place long enough to send an address. Besides – I wasn’t ’appy with it – my situation, I mean.’ He sighed. ‘The whole thing – it was such a let-down. I so wanted to be able to write and say that I’d made something of meself, but nothin’ turned out the way I’d hoped. Still – things’ll be better now.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure they will.’

  He nodded. ‘Aw, I tell you,’ he said, ‘London’s a remarkable place, no doubt about that.’

  ‘You must have seen some real sights there.’

  ‘You bet I ’ave.’

  ‘And the ladies there have fine clothes, do they? A lot more fashionable than you’d find here in Corster, I’ll bet.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about fashion and stuff – you certainly see some finely dressed people – but you see people of all kinds there. Rich people and a lot of very poor people too. And people from all over the world: Chinese people with narrow little eyes and long pigtails; Indian people with brown skins; black people too – black as coal with big lips and fuzzy ’air. You see all kinds – and they dress in the weirdest way and speak very strange languages. You can’t understand a word. You wouldn’t credit it, believe me.’

  Lily gave a sigh. ‘It must be such an exciting place. I’d love to go there someday.’

  He nodded. ‘Oh, yeh. Mind you, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Not by a long chalk. And I tell you something – it’s a right filthy place.’ He gestured towards the square below the window. ‘You think this place is dirty, right? You don’t know what dirty is till you’ve seen London. Well, they call the place the Smoke – that’s what they call it. The ’ouses are black, I tell you. Black with all the soot and the smoke. And some of them fogs you get in the winter – they’re as thick as soup, and you can’t see your ’and in front of your face.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Ah, that’s right. You’ve never seen fog like it, believe me, and when you get indoors afterwards you finds your ’ands and face are filthy. It ain’t no wonder they gets diseases there. They got the smallpox now, did you know that?’

  ‘Oh, yes, it’s in all the papers. It’s not only in London, either – it’s getting everywhere – even here in Redbury and Corster and places.’

  ‘It must be bad, then. Still – I managed to stay all right.’

  ‘Thank heavens, yes. What kind of work did you do?’

  ‘Anything. I worked all over the place. I went wherever I could get a job. I worked in ’otels sometimes – odd job boy, or boot boy. Porter sometimes. Then again another time I was ’elpin’ out on a market stall. For a few days I worked as a crossing-sweeper. I was a runner once, for some firm in the City, takin’ messages all day. Though that didn’t last long. Then another time I was workin’ in a shoe factory, cleanin’ up round the machines. I did work where and when I could. You couldn’t afford to be fussy. Sometimes I didn’t ’ave any work at all.’

  Lily frowned. ‘Oh, Tom,’ she said, ‘it sounds awful. How did you sleep? Where did you live and eat?’

  ‘Well, when I was workin’ at the ’otels I got to sleep and eat there too, though the sleepin’ wasn’t much to write ’ome about. A little cupboard usually, but I was glad of it. At least I was in the dry. Other times I slept where I could. Now and again in some shop doorway – a few times I even went into the workhouse.’

  Lily put a hand to her mouth. The workhouse . . . ‘Oh, thank God that’s over,’ she said. ‘That’s behind you now. You mustn’t go back there again.’

  ‘No, I won’t – never. I’m not meant for the city life.’

  ‘How did you come down – from London?’

  ‘Aw, it took me a good while. I walked most of the way, though now and again some kind wagoner give me a ride on ’is cart. I slept where I could – in barns when I was lucky. I managed to get summat to eat too. People were kind generally, and at other times I was able to pick up some vegetables ’ere and there. But it’s all right now. It don’t matter now. It’s over, and I got me a job, ain’t I?’

  ‘Yes, you have, and that’s wonderful.’

  ‘They’re takin’ me on at the start just for a couple of months – over the ’arvest, while one of the regular farmhands is away.’

  ‘Only for two months? Oh, dear – that’s disappointing.’

  ‘Yeh, I know. I’m told he’s been ill and is laid up for a while, but who knows, they might decide they can’t manage without me. Anyway, the main thing is, I’ve got a job for the time bein’, and it’ll give me a chance to look around for summat more permanent. For I’ll
tell you somethin’ – jobs ain’t so easy to come by right now. I reckon I’m lucky to have anything at all – and they been very nice to me at the farm. Mrs Ballantine, she give me a good dinner of eggs and potatoes. She says I need fattening up.’

  Lily smiled. ‘I’m not surprised.’

  ‘Never mind. I feel fine, that’s the main thing, and now that I’ve got a job, and somewhere to stay, everything’ll be all right again.’ He paused. ‘I got a good feelin’ about this place, and I’ll tell you summat – I’m not ever gunna give you cause to worry about me again, Lil, believe me, I’m not.’

  She smiled. ‘Well – just see that you don’t.’

  Lifting his head he looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘I must keep an eye on the time. I mustn’t keep Mr Ballantine waiting. That won’t be a good start.’ On the window pane the rain continued to fall, while from the distance came the faint rumble of thunder. Tom sat in silence for a moment or two, then said:

  ‘I never ’ear anything from ’ome now, you know. I wrote. I told you I wrote, but I never got an answer. I doubt I’d be welcome there any more. I guess they made that clear enough.’

  Lily took in his words, then, taking a breath, preparing herself, told him of their father’s death. She told how she had been summoned to his bedside, and of how she had written to him, Tom, at the farm in Halls Haven but had had no response. When she had finished relating her story he sat with his head bent, his hand raised to cover his eyes. She realised that he was weeping. She laid her hand on his shoulder, and after a while he grew calmer, and ceased his crying.

  ‘I’d have gone to see him like a shot,’ he said softly. ‘If I’d only known.’ He drew back his lips over his teeth. ‘I should’ve been there.’

  She pressed his shoulder. ‘You didn’t know. You mustn’t reproach yourself. It couldn’t be helped.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ he murmured, and gave a deep sigh. ‘I was such a disappointment to him.’

  ‘Oh, Tom . . .’

  ‘It’s true. After I come out of Wentworth he never spoke to me again.’ He paused, then said hesitantly, ‘Did he speak of me, Lil? Did he – did he ask about me?’

  The briefest moment, then she said, ‘Yes. Of course he did.’

  ‘Did he?’ There was a note of barely contained joy in his voice. ‘Lil, did he? What did he say?’

  ‘He said – he said he wished – wished you’d been there,’ she lied.

  ‘Did he? Did he say that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He gave a little groan. ‘Oh, God – I wish I’d known. I wish I’d known he was sick. What else did he say?’

  ‘He said – he said he loved you.’ The lie came off her tongue with only the merest hesitation, and even as it did she knew she would do it again.

  ‘He said that, did he?’

  ‘Yes, he did.’

  ‘Oh – Lil.’ And the tears welled in his eyes again and spilt onto his cheeks. He put up a hand and brushed them away. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you for tellin’ me.’ He burst out with a little sound that was half sob and half laugh. To Lily’s ears it was a sound of joy and relief, and she had no doubt that she had done the right thing.

  For a minute neither of them spoke, then Tom said, his voice grave again, ‘What about her, Lil – our mother? I bet she didn’t ask after me, did she?’

  Lily could think of no words to say, but her silence was enough. Tom gave a nod. ‘Nah, why do I bother to ask? Why would I even wonder about her? She don’t change. She never will.’

  Lily shook her head. ‘No, I don’t reckon she will, Tom.’

  ‘Have you seen her since? Since Father died?’

  ‘No. We didn’t part on the best of terms. I’m sorry not to see little Dora though, but it can’t be helped. Dora and I – we’ll no doubt meet again at some time – when she’s older maybe, but for now . . . well, I’ve got no intention of ever going back.’

  He confirmed his understanding with a nod. ‘You don’t need to. You’re an independent woman now. A governess yet.’

  ‘That’s right. For three and a half years now.’

  She went on then to tell him of her teaching of the Acland girls, and a little of her uneventful life in Little Patten. She finished by telling of how she had received her notice of dismissal.’

  He gave a sympathetic shake of his head. ‘Aw, that’s too bad,’ he said. ‘So you’re going to be out of a job soon.’

  ‘Yes, in just over a week. I’m looking for something else.’

  ‘Any idea where you’ll go?’

  ‘No, not yet. Though I have an interview tomorrow with a family in Seston. So wish me luck.’

  ‘Oh, course I do. You’ll get something soon, I’m sure of it.’ He smiled. ‘But even better – maybe you’ll meet someone and get married. Then you won’t need to worry about governessin’ ever again.’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ she said, with an ironic laugh, ‘that’ll be the day.’

  His expression remained serious. ‘Is there – anyone in your life, Lil? Anyone special?’

  Her laugh came again. ‘Anyone special? No. No fear of that.’

  ‘Nobody?’

  ‘No, nobody.’ She wanted done with the subject. ‘I thought there’d surely be somebody by now. You’re a tidy-lookin’ girl, our Lil. I reckon any chap would be proud to be seen out with you.’

  She waved a hand, dismissing his compliment and the subject. ‘Well, there’s no one,’ she said. ‘Anyway – enough of all that.’

  ‘What you need to do,’ he said, grinning, ’is to get ’itched up to some rich farmer. Can’t you arrange that? Can’t you find some rich widower farmer with a couple of well-behaved kiddies to go and governess for? Then I can come and work on the farm, can’t I?’

  She joined in his laugh. ‘Oh, that would be fine, all right, but don’t hold your breath waiting. In the meantime we’ve got to live.’

  Ascending footsteps sounded on the stairs, and soon a man and woman with a small boy came into view. Probably like herself and Tom, Lily thought, they had come in to get out of the rain. The newcomers moved among the exhibits with the young father pointing out to the child various items which he thought might be of interest. Lily could not take her eyes off the boy. He wore a wide straw hat and a neat little sailor suit, and had golden curls falling almost to his shoulders. He would be about Georgie’s age. Tom, also watching the child, murmured softly, ‘He’s a handsome little chappie, ain’t he, Lil?’

  She turned to him as if coming out of a dream. ‘Sorry?’ she said, and then: ‘Yes. Yes, he is.’

  The young family did not stay long in the gallery, and were soon making their way back to the stairs. The rain was easing off now and the daylight was fading.

  Tom said into the quiet, when the visitors’ footsteps had died away, ‘Your own little fella, Lil – d’you ever ’ear of ’im?’

  She did not know what to say. His words touched her gladness for the afternoon like a bruise. She bore the pain for a second, then said, ‘No. No, I don’t – but let’s not talk about the past, Tom.’ She forced a smile. ‘We’ve got enough to think about with the present.’

  ‘Yeh.’ He gave a little nod. ‘You’re right, you’re right.’

  ‘I’m glad the people at the farm are nice to you.’

  ‘Oh, ah, they are.’

  She smiled, looking him over again. ‘And you’re looking so sharp with your buttonhole.’

  He raised a hand and touched at the rosebud. ‘Ah, that’s what Cissie give me.’

  ‘Cissie?’

  ‘She’s one of the dairymaids there. A right pretty little girl too.

  Lily gave a slow nod, smiling. ‘Oh, is she?’

  ‘Ah, she is.’ He grinned. ‘I think she’ve taken a bit of a shine to me.’

  ‘Oh, well, now . . .’

  ‘She ain’t been there long either – not much longer than me. I tell you summat – you ain’t seen a prettier girl this side of Weston.’ His smile lingered for a few moments longer, the
n he glanced up at the clock again. ‘The darned time’s gettin’ on, Lil. I’m gunna have to go. I mustn’t keep Mr Ballantine waiting.’ He picked up his cap and put it on, and got up from the bench. Lily stood up beside him.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I reckon this is goodbye for now, then.’

  ‘But not for long this time, right?’ She reached out and pressed his arm. ‘I shan’t be much longer at my address in Little Patten, but you can always write to me at Miss Balfour’s.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Shall I walk with you to the square?’

  ‘No, that’s all right – I’ll ’ave to get a move on. What you gunna do now?’

  ‘I think I’ll just sit here for a while, then I’ll go and get my train.’

  ‘Right.’ Turning to the window, he looked down onto the cobbled square below. Now that the rain had ceased, the townsfolk were out again and going about their business. ‘We’re so high up ’ere,’ Tom said, and gave a little shudder. ‘It gives me the creeps. It’s like one of the windows at Wentworth – ‘cept this one don’t ’ave any bars.’

  ‘Tom – don’t.’ Lily reached out to him. ‘Don’t think of such things.’

  ‘I can’t ’elp it.’ He gave a little shrug. ‘I still get nightmares sometimes.’

  ‘Tom – oh, my dear, you must try to forget it. You really must.’

  ‘Yeh – I know, but easier said than done.’

  ‘Of course, but – oh, you must try to put all that behind you. It’s all in the past.’

  ‘Yeh.’ He nodded, turning his back on the window and the view. ‘That’s what I tell meself.’

  ‘Well, it is. You’ll never see the place again.’

  ‘No, that I won’t.’ He spoke with a quiet note of passion. ‘I’d never go back there.’

  Standing facing him, she reached up and touched at the flower in his buttonhole, then smoothed down his jacket’s lapels. She watched his mouth soften again, then said, ‘Shall I see you again soon?’