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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

Esther smiled. The squire had been good to her, so why should she not pass on a little of that kindness to someone else? She owed the Harris family so much. First young Ernie, and now Enid and the younger boys. And Ma herself. Even though there had been a time of estrangement between them over Jonathan, now it was as if their differences had never happened.

The very next day found Esther bowling along the lane towards the town in her smart pony and trap. It gave her a sudden thrill to be driving her own trap, to be dressed in a smart costume – even though it was the one she had bought for her aunt’s funeral and therefore black. But she was still in mourning for her husband and only the ruffle of her white blouse showed at her throat in the open neck of the close-fitting jacket.

On her arrival in the busy main street, however, some of her newfound confidence ebbed away. She was not used to coming shopping, frequenting what were to her the smart shops in the town.

As she entered the largest drapery store in the main street, the bell clanged loudly, heralding her arrival. She felt that everyone in the shop turned to look her up and down and suddenly Esther felt very much the country mouse come to town.

For a moment her nerve almost failed her completely when a woman customer at the counter turned to leave and saw Esther standing uncertainly just inside the door. As she came towards her, Esther recognized her as a member of the church congregation and a woman of whom Martha Willoughby always made a great fuss.

Esther drew a sharp breath and waited for the woman’s scathing look and sarcastic remark. In readiness to do battle, Esther’s chin came a little higher and her green eyes sparkled with defiance.

The woman was on her way out, but as she drew near to Esther she said, ‘Good morning. Mrs Hilton, isn’t it? How nice to see you in town.’ The woman did look her up and down, but there was no disdain in the glance. To Esther’s astonishment, it was more a look of admiration.

‘G-good morning,’ Esther managed to stammer in reply and then she gazed about her almost in awe of the large shop with its shelves of bolts of cloth, its prim woman assistant behind the counter.

The customer, her hand resting lightly on the door handle, made no move to leave the shop but stood, her head slightly on one side, watching Esther. There was a friendly smile on her mouth.