Chapters (53)
- Cover
- Title page
- Dedication page
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Sow the Seed
- Reap the Harvest
- About the Author
- ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON
- Acknowledgements
- Copyright page
Suddenly he seemed painfully sober. ‘I – I think I must have done, Esther.’ Slowly from his pocket he pulled a piece of crumpled paper. Awkwardly, he dragged himself to his feet, but Esther made no move to help him. Instead she took hold of his arm roughly and pushed him towards the house. ‘Then you’d better go back and un-volunteer.’ Inside she steered him into the kitchen. ‘Just you sit down there, me lad, and let’s have it. Just what have you done in your drunken state?’
Matthew fell back into the wooden chair and passed a hand, which shook slightly, across his forehead. Beads of sweat glistened on his face. ‘Oh, Esther, I don’t know what I’ve done.’
‘Have you volunteered?’
Matthew raised apologetic eyes to look at her. Slowly he nodded.
‘Whatever made you do such a stupid thing? You can’t go. What about the farm? I can’t manage the farm on my own.’
Matthew’s smile was without humour. It was a smile of sadness. Soberly now, he said softly, ‘You don’t need me, Esther. You never did.’
‘Of course I need you, Matthew. Don’t be so stupid. If you can’t think about me and the farm, what about your daughter? What about Kate?’
‘Kate?’ He spoke her name almost as if he didn’t remember who she was. ‘Oh, Kate. Well, she dun’t need me either. You’re mother and father to her. We both know that.’
‘Matthew, will you stop being so – so deliberately stupid,’ she screamed at him.
As her tone grew shriller, his by contrast grew softer and more patient – more resigned to what he had done. ‘Stupid? Yes, I’m stupid. At least I was.’
He sat staring into the glowing embers of a dying fire. Esther, stunned by his manner, was quiet now.
‘I knew you only married me to get the tenancy of this farm, Esther,’ Matthew was saying quietly. ‘At least I didn’t give much thought to it afore we was wed . . .’ The ironic smile twisted his mouth again. He had sobered swiftly, yet he was more talkative, more expansive and confiding than she had ever known him. She sank down on to the rug watching him as he talked, his face half in shadow illuminated only by the red glow from the fire.
‘I – ain’t been quite fair to you, Esther. I know that now. I blamed you for tricking me into marrying you, when really I – I should have married Beth.’
There, it was said now, Esther thought, but she remained silent, sitting on the rug, hugging her knees up to her chest and staring into the glowing coals.