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
Kate felt the colour drain from her face, but no words would come. All she could do was stare at her mother in shock.
But Esther Godfrey, full of her day in the city, of her success with the headmistress of the St Mary’s School for Young Ladies, was not even looking at her daughter. Now she was turning away to talk directly to her husband. ‘Has the baby been all right? It’s a long time to leave her, but I had no choice. It’s a good job I’ve started weaning her.’
‘Did you see Mother and Father?’
‘Yes – I had a nice dinner with them and a long chat with them about the school. They reckon she’ll be fine there, and they’ll take her out on a Sunday afternoon. The headmistress said that was when the girls are allowed out with family or friends. Well chaperoned, of course.’
‘Peg would fetch her. Did you see Peg? Is she all right?’
‘No, she was at work, but I asked after her and she’s fine.’ She paused and Kate saw the mischievous smile curve her mother’s lips. ‘I must say, I like your dad. I reckon he took quite a fancy to me.’ Almost coquettishly, Esther smoothed tendrils of her hair that were escaping from the combs.
Jonathan caught her by the waist and planted a kiss on her mouth. ‘Well, of course he would.’
‘He’s like you, ain’t he? I mean, you’re like him.’
‘I would like to think so. I admire my father – he’s kind and gentle and all his pupils adore him . . .’
‘Is he a teacher?’ Kate butted in, desperately seeking some kind of hope. ‘Will he be there – at the school I’m going to?’
Her mother and stepfather looked round at her, surprise on their faces. They had been so busy planning, deciding her future, that they had forgotten she was even in the room.
Jonathan shook his head, ‘No love. He teaches at a boys’ school. He won’t . . .’
‘Then I won’t go,’ Kate stormed. ‘I won’t!’
She whirled around, rushed out of the kitchen and through the scullery and dragged open the back door. Then she was running – across the yard, out of the gate, across the lane and up the dunes through the trees – ignoring the shouts of her stepfather behind her.
‘Kate! Kate, don’t, love. Please don’t!’