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Back Plough the Furrow Save as PDF
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

Ma’s round cheeks wobbled with pleasure. ‘It’s a young feller who’s come back from the war – Walter Maine. Lost a leg, he has. He’s got a wooden one but you should see him get about, Esther. I couldn’t believe it. Before I met him,’ Ma clasped her hands in front of her ample bosom, ‘I have to admit I was a bit doubtful. I thought he’d be a cripple, like. Not a bit of it! One crutch he uses but can he move!’ Her laughter cackled so loudly that the hens, pecking in a leisurely way in the yard, squawked in alarm and scuttled for cover. ‘He’s not idle either.’ There was pride already in her tone for her future son-in-law. ‘Learning to be a blacksmith, he is, so’s he’ll have a trade.’ Her tone dropped. ‘You know our smithy’s lad never came back from the war . . .’

Esther nodded and Ma went on, ‘So I reckon he’s glad to have a young ’un to take on.’

So many lives altered by the war, Esther thought, but aloud she asked, ‘When’s the big day?’

Ma shrugged and stretched her mouth into the familiar toothless grin. ‘We thought Midsummer Day – they’ve no reason to wait any longer. There’s attic rooms above the smithy they can have and the smith’s wife says she’ll be glad to have Enid’s help, and,’ Ma added, ‘our Enid’ll even help out in the smithy itself if need be. She ain’t afraid of work.’

Esther smiled. ‘No, I can vouch for that.’

Ma’s round face took on a dreamy expression. ‘Eh, but what wouldn’t Ah give to see me girl in a fine white dress on her wedding day?’ She sighed and then added in a more matter-of-fact manner, ‘Ah, well, there it is – frippery’s not for the likes of us. She’ll have to have a new costume that’ll serve her after her wedding day.’

As Ma waddled away down the lane towards the Point, Esther watched her go, a plan forming in her mind.

The sewing machine she had brought back from her Aunt Hannah’s was now in constant use. She made smocks and dresses for Kate and simple skirts and blouses for herself. Could she, Esther asked herself, make a wedding gown for Enid?

It would be the most complicated thing she had ever tackled, but she could afford to buy a length of material out of the extra money the squire had got for the car – or that he said he had got.