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
Turning back to watch the restless cow pulling at the rope which tethered her to the wall, Jonathan’s face sobered again as he said, ‘I’m rather afraid the calf is breech.’
‘Ya’ll have to turn it, Dad.’
She saw the beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Again he swept his hand across his brow. He took a tentative step towards the cow and stopped. Kate watched him. It was obvious that her stepfather was unsure what he needed to do. After all, she thought, with sudden sympathy for him, he had only been involved in farmwork since marrying her mother four years earlier. His trade had been building traction engines in Lincoln.
Kate touched his arm. ‘Ya need to put yar arm inside her and . . .’
The sweat was running down the side of his face now at the mere thought.
‘I’ve watched your mother – but . . .’ His anxious glance flitted towards the cow and back again to Kate. His anxiety was becoming almost fear.
‘Wait, Dad, just wait here and watch her. Dun’t do anything . . .’ Kate turned and ran towards the door.
‘Kate – wait! Where . . .?’
But she was out of the door and running round the corner of the building and out of the yard gate.
Danny – she must fetch Danny. He would know what to do. In the lane she turned to the right and sped towards the Point. Arriving at the top of the steep incline, known as the Hump, over a natural bank in the road, she paused to catch her breath and survey the scene below her. To her right the setting sun slanted golden streaks across the fields harrowed smooth and flat after the recent spring sowing. The River Lynn meandered through the fields to the Point where it joined the sea. To her left was the pub and beyond it, the marsh and then the sea. Directly in front of her was a stretch of grass between the river bank and the line of four cottages where Danny lived.
The three Harris brothers, Peter, Luke and Georgie, were playing cricket on the grass, but Kate could not see Danny among them.
She plunged down the bank and, lifting her skirt to her knees, sprinted across the grass. ‘Georgie – Georgie! Where’s Danny?’
‘Hello, young Kate. Come to play cricket, ’ave ya?’