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Back Plough the Furrow
Chapters (53)
  1. Cover
  2. Title page
  3. Dedication page
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-one
  25. Twenty-two
  26. Twenty-three
  27. Twenty-four
  28. Twenty-five
  29. Twenty-six
  30. Twenty-seven
  31. Twenty-eight
  32. Twenty-nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-one
  35. Thirty-two
  36. Thirty-three
  37. Thirty-four
  38. Thirty-five
  39. Thirty-six
  40. Thirty-seven
  41. Thirty-eight
  42. Thirty-nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-one
  45. Forty-two
  46. Forty-three
  47. Forty-four
  48. Sow the Seed
  49. Reap the Harvest
  50. About the Author
  51. ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON
  52. Acknowledgements
  53. Copyright page

There was a triangular piece of grassland which lay between the Seagull and the cottages and on the third side ran the river bank where the boat was moored. From the deck of their boat home the Elands had a clear view of the cottages and the pub and beyond them across the marshes towards the sea.

‘Of course, all the fellers come and talk to him,’ Esther made herself chatter on. ‘They’re getting a little less embarrassed now.’ She smiled musingly, ‘Funny, isn’t it, Will, how those two bairns weren’t afraid or awkward around him, and yet some of the grown-ups – they couldn’t get away fast enough when they first saw him.’

‘It was a shock for us to see him in such a state, Esther, remembering how he used to be afore he went to war. A fine strapping lad, brought down like that.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘It’s wicked, that’s what it is. I must admit,’ he added, a little shamefacedly, ‘I didn’t quite know what to do or say that first time.’

There was silence between them and then Esther, struggling with an inner conflict that she could still not quell, said haltingly, ‘How’s – how’s me aunt, then?’

‘No change, lass, no change. George – poor chap – he’s wearing himself out.’

Again there was a long pause, then Will said softly, ‘Won’t you go and see them, lass? Even if only for George’s sake. He’s always asking after you – has done ever since you left. Won’t you go?’

Esther, wrestling with her conscience, pressed her lips together, and shook her head. ‘I can’t, Will, I just can’t.’

Matthew made rapid progress. Soon he could walk unaided. Then, hesitantly at first, he began to speak again. Just one word and then two or three, like a child learning to talk for the first time.

Esther would shake her head, a small smile on her mouth as she watched the three of them together. The two children, one on either side of him, skipping and dancing, chattering, glancing up at him, Kate slipping her hand into his, and Matthew placing his hand on Danny’s shoulder, not so much now for support as just in affection. Esther watched and smiled and in her heart she was glad. Glad for Matthew, compassionate enough to rejoice that he had perhaps, after all, some sort of life ahead of him. She was still a little fearful of the closeness between Kate and Danny. Yet what harm could it do while they were so young?