Chapters (52)
- Cover
- Margaret Dickinson
- Dedication page
- Contents
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Part Two
- 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
- Sow the Seed
- Note
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Copyright page
Danny’s brown eyes were full of mischief. ‘Come on then, up you get.’ Obligingly, he bent down so that the little girl could climb on to his back, her chubby arms tight around his neck.
Danny galloped towards the cottages with Rosie bouncing up and down on his back and shrieking with laughter, leaving Kate to pick up his bicycle and wheel it after them.
The Sunday morning of Lilian’s christening was fine and bright, but breezy. Scudding clouds made the sunlight fitful, sending shadows running across the fields of waving corn.
‘We’ll have tea out on the front lawn,’ her mother decided. ‘Kate, help yar dad fetch the trestle tables from the Grange. Squire said I could borrow them. Then when you come back, you must get changed and ready for church. Jonathan, are your folks going straight to the church?’
Orders and questions came in quick succession from Esther Godfrey’s lips, scarcely allowing time for any reply. ‘When we get back from church, Kate, I want you to help me carry all the food out into the garden.’ Her mother seemed to have been baking during the whole of the previous week and now mountains of pasties and tarts, cakes and plum bread stood ready in the pantry. ‘Oh, I do hope it dun’t rain,’ Esther added, glancing anxiously at the sky.
‘Danny says it’s going to be fine all day.’
Her mother’s green eyes flashed. ‘When did you see him? I told you not to go to the Point . . .’
‘I don’t, Mam, honest,’ Kate said reasonably, trying to pacify her mother’s quick temper. It wasn’t much use going there anyway, now he was working, but she kept these thoughts to herself. ‘Have you asked the folks from the Point to the christening?’
‘The Harrises and the Maines.’
Kate looked up at her mother. ‘Not Danny and his mother and father?’ As soon as she had let the words slip from her lips, Kate could have bitten off the end of her tongue.
‘We dun’t have owt to do wi’ them.’
‘You mean you and Mrs Eland dun’t speak. Everyone else does. Dad sees mester in the pub and me an’ Danny . . .’
‘Aye, you and Danny, you and Danny! That’s all I seem to have heard for years.’
‘Why dun’t you like him now? You used to – to . . .’ Kate hesitated. Vague memories, elusive and fleeting, were nudging at her mind. ‘You used to make him welcome. When me real dad . . .’
‘Stop it! You hear me? I dun’t want to speak of him. ‘Specially not today.’
‘Why, Mam? Just tell me why?’
Suddenly, Esther Godfrey seemed weary. She sighed and turned away, more in sadness than in anger now. ‘Dun’t ask me, Katie love, please dun’t ask me. Ya wouldn’t like the answer.’