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
The smile on the woman’s face faltered a little. ‘Oh – er – well, yes. He’s at work. He – he dun’t get much time, Kate . . .’ her eyes flickered away and she fingered the hem of her apron nervously. Then Mrs Eland’s face brightened as, seeming to change the subject, she said, ‘You sit there, I’ll just nip next door and fetch Grannie Harris. She’ll want to see you . . .’
‘Oh, I see Grannie every day nearly when she comes for the milk and eggs for everyone at the Point.’ Kate took another bite, munched a few seconds, swallowed and then said, ‘You have ya milk and eggs from us, dun’t ya, Mrs Eland?’
Beth’s gaze flickered away. ‘Um, well, yes.’
Kate stared at her with candid eyes. ‘But you never come ya’sen to fetch them, d’ya?’
Beth Eland shook her head, a kind of sadness in the movement.
‘Why?’ the girl persisted.
‘Dun’t ask me, Katie,’ she whispered. ‘Please – dun’t ask me.’
It was the same strange reply her mother had once given to a similar question.
There was something odd, Kate thought, realizing something she had always known but had never really thought about before; the fact that in such a small community her mother and Beth Eland never spoke to each other, although each of them was friendly with everyone else. Perhaps they had quarrelled years ago and they were both too proud to make the first step to reconciliation.
Mrs Eland had turned away and was busying herself at the range, stirring something in a cooking pot. Kate jumped up from the stool and went to her, putting her arms around the woman’s plump waist and hugging her. She didn’t want to upset Danny’s mother. Kate liked her – loved her – and not just because she was Danny’s mother. Mrs Eland was always so kind and gentle towards her. The woman turned round, holding the girl close once more, her smile as warm as always.
‘I’d best get back,’ Kate said now. ‘It’s one of me grandad’s days for visiting. Will you tell Danny to call for me on Sunday after dinner?’
The haunted look was back for a moment in the woman’s soft brown eyes. ‘Aye, all right. I’ll tell him,’ she promised, but now there was no smile.