Freedom's Land Read online

  He sucked in his breath on this thought and turned away, striding along the narrow streets to his cousin’s house. When he got there, however, he found that her parents-in-law had arrived earlier than usual for Sunday tea. Somehow, today, he couldn’t face sitting with them in the front room that Lyddie kept so neat, a room where you hardly dared move in case you knocked over an ornament. He didn’t want to make laborious conversation or hear the old couple saying the same things they said every week.

  He felt he needed to be free of such restrictions today, free to have a think about his future, so called out, ‘I’m going for a walk till it’s time to meet the lads, Lyddie love. I only came back for my coat because it’s a bit parky outside.’ Winter was coming on quickly. He was dreading it. He grabbed his overcoat from the hallstand and was out again before anyone could protest.

  In spite of the intermittent showers, he pulled his collar up and went for a brisk walk, heading up to the moors’ edge. No time to go further or he’d have enjoyed a real tramp across the tops. He had a lot to consider and always thought better in the open air.

  He wasn’t giving up. He was going to Australia and getting his own land, whatever it took. He’d never wanted anything as much in his whole life.

  After she’d helped the little girl who’d fallen, Norah decided to go for a walk. She’d spent the last four days shut up in the house, sorting through their possessions. Her mother had alternately wept and snapped at her; she’d tried to be patient because it was hard to lose your home and become dependent on your own children, she understood that.

  But today Norah reckoned she’d earned a quiet hour to herself, so went to walk briskly round the new park. Only that was too tame, too full of people, so she made her way up the hill to where the wind blew freely across the moors and she didn’t have to pretend about anything.

  Stopping where the streets ended, she stared wistfully up the narrow track that wound between two farms. Beyond them the moors rolled away into the distance, empty, bare, beautiful. She loved to tramp across the tops, wished she had time to go further now. Ah, why torment yourself? she thought. You can’t get away, so you must just paste on a smile and get on with it.

  She turned abruptly, bumping into someone so hard he had to grab her to steady them both.

  ‘Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.’ As he let go, she looked up at the man, who was righting his cap now. She’d seen him outside the church hall earlier with two lads. It was rare for her to look up at a fellow, because she was tall for a woman. Her husband had been shorter than her.

  ‘That’s all right. No harm done.’

  He smiled, but the smile was forced and she could see that like her, he was upset about something. The town hall clock struck the hour just then and they both stopped to look down at it over the sloping rows of rooftops.

  ‘Sunday School won’t be out for another half-hour,’ she said, thinking aloud.

  ‘I saw you taking your daughter there,’ he said. ‘She looks like you.’

  Norah smiled. ‘Yes. I hope she doesn’t grow as tall as me, though. It’s a disadvantage for a woman. I’ve seen you outside the church a few times with some lads. Your sons?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They look a fine, healthy pair.’

  He smiled, his eyes shining with love. ‘They are.’ As the wind whistled round them, he shivered and rubbed his gloved hands together briskly. ‘Best to keep moving in weather like this.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll walk back into town with you, if you’d like a bit of company.’

  She nodded and he fell into place beside her.

  ‘I don’t really need to meet my lads,’ he said after a while. ‘They’re old enough to come home on their own. But we’re living with my cousin for the time being and I like to get out of the house as much as possible, to give her a bit of time with her own family. My wife died last year, you see.’

  It seemed easy to confide in him in return. ‘My husband died early in the war, so I’ve been on my own for a while. I live in Varley Street at the moment.’ She sighed. ‘It’ll be a wrench to leave it.’

  ‘You’re moving?’

  ‘I was living with my parents, but my father’s just died. Mum and I can’t manage the house on my wages so she’s going to live with my sister and I’ll have to find lodgings for me and Janie.’ She saw him glance at the black armband, which was all the mourning she could afford.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ll manage. You have to, don’t you?’

  ‘You’ve no other relatives who can take you in?’ It was the usual solution.

  ‘No. One sister’s taking Mum and the other already has her husband’s father living with them.’

  There was still ten minutes to go when they arrived back at the chapel, so they walked past it by unspoken consent.

  ‘Shall you look for a house of your own now?’ she asked to make conversation.

  ‘I’ve not decided what to do, yet.’

  She shivered and dug her hands into her coat pockets. ‘Winter’s coming on fast this year.’

  ‘Aye. I’m not fond of the cold weather, not in a town anyway.’

  By the time they got back, the scholars were coming out of Sunday school. He waved his sons over, said goodbye and left her.

  Nice man, she thought, then forgot him as Janie came out, talking earnestly to another little girl. Janie always had a best friend to cling to, didn’t like to do anything on her own. She was a pretty child, and healthy looking, which always pleased Norah.

  This was what mattered. Her daughter. Somehow, she’d find a way to make a decent life for the child. Maybe she could take in sewing and work on it in the evenings to earn a bit extra – if they found lodgings with enough room for her sewing machine, that was. The places she’d looked at so far offered only a tiny bedroom and limited access to cooking facilities. She’d have to sell everything to live in such a small place, which upset her. And she hated the thought of living in another woman’s house, having to ask to do anything! Absolutely hated it.

  What can’t be cured must be endured, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time, and took Janie’s hand, forcing back the unhappy thoughts and talking as cheerfully as she could manage. Janie had been very close to her granddad and was taking his death and the coming move very badly, clinging to her mother and crying for the slightest thing.

  Norah was trying to be patient, but it was hard when she was grieving and upset herself.

  2

  When he got home from work on the Tuesday afternoon, Andrew was pleased to see that the new pamphlet about group settlement in Australia had arrived by the second post. It looked even more smudged than the previous one. They must have made a lot of copies. Perhaps all the places offered by the scheme were full up, all the land taken.

  He greeted his cousin Lyddie, then took the pamphlet into the unheated front room, reading every word of it again.

  But he’d remembered it accurately. With a groan, he buried his head in his hands.

  Lyddie came into the room. ‘Are you all right, love? You’ve been looking down in the dumps lately. Is it because you’ve finished with Betty?’

  ‘No. Well, not exactly. It’s mainly because I need a wife to get a place in Australia. I’d set my heart on going. Stupid, I know, when I haven’t even applied to the scheme yet to see if I’m suitable.’

  She frowned, opened her mouth as if to speak then shut it again.

  ‘Say it! Tell me I’m a fool to dream like this.’

  She sighed. ‘All right. You’re a fool, Andrew Boyd. But not for dreaming of a better life for yourself and the lads – for dreaming of going to Australia with that Betty. I never believed she was the right woman for you, never. She only wanted you because you’re tall and good-looking.’

  He could feel himself flushing at this compliment. They weren’t given to tossing praise at people in his family.

  ‘And can you really imagine her on a farm?
I can’t. She’s such a frivolous piece, I’d feel sorry for any man she married and when it was you, well, I was that upset. She won’t stay faithful, you know. That sort never do.’

  He stared at her in shock. ‘You never said anything.’

  ‘When you got engaged, I bit my tongue many a time, because you seemed happy.’ Another hesitation, then she laid one hand on his arm, looking up at him earnestly. ‘Are you sure it’s over with Betty?’

  ‘Quite sure.’

  ‘Then why don’t you marry someone else? There are other women who’d jump at the chance of wedding a decent fellow like you, yes, and they’d go to Australia with you in a blink.’

  ‘Now you’re talking nonsense. Let alone I can’t just walk out on to the street and ask a stranger to marry me, there’s not many who’d want to leave their families and go to live on the other side of the world.’

  ‘There might be.’

  ‘You know of someone?’

  ‘No. But I could ask the curate’s wife for you. She knows everyone in this part of town, Mrs Reddish does. I could go and see her about it.’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’

  ‘What’s daft about it? You’ve got problems and getting wed would solve them.’

  He couldn’t think straight, he was so surprised by this suggestion. Maybe that’s why he agreed that Lyddie should speak to the curate’s wife.

  But after she’d gone out, he wished he hadn’t. He couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t attempt anything as intimate as marriage with a complete stranger. Still, he consoled himself with the thought that no decent woman would be that desperate and he wasn’t interested in women who weren’t decent.

  He was horrified when his sister came back looking smug. ‘Never say you’ve found someone!’

  ‘Of course I haven’t, you fool. But Mrs Reddish thinks she might know someone. The woman’s a widow and a hard worker. It seems life’s dealt her a few blows lately. She’s got a daughter, though, so I’m to let the curate’s wife know if that puts you off. But if you are interested, you could meet the woman and see if you’d suit.’

  ‘I’m not interested. I don’t know what got into me earlier even to consider it. It’d never work.’

  ‘Mrs Reddish thinks it’s the perfect solution for both of you. She says if she was twenty years younger, she’d go out to Australia like a shot.’

  ‘The only sort of woman who’d accept an offer of marriage from a complete stranger is a lunatic.’

  ‘Or one who’s desperate to give her child a better chance in life,’ Lyddie said quietly. ‘You’re not the only one to want that, you know, Andrew. Meet this woman, at least, before you say no.’

  ‘Don’t push me, our Lyddie.’

  ‘Someone has to. You’ve been restless ever since the war, but your wife was dying and you stayed in your old job for her sake. I respected you for that.’ She linked her arm in his. ‘It’d cost nowt to meet this woman and see if you take to one another. Go on, give it a try, love. To please me.’

  And some madness made him agree.

  She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘I’ll go back and tell Mrs Reddish straight away.’

  When the door knocker sounded that evening, Norah was in the kitchen, sitting with a cup of tea she’d just made, toasting herself by the fire. Her mother had moved out this afternoon and most of the furniture had gone with her, so the house no longer felt like home. And now that Janie was in bed, the place was quiet – far too quiet.

  She was surprised to find the curate’s wife at the door.

  ‘Can I have a word, Norah?’

  She realised she’d been staring rudely. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit – preoccupied at the moment.’

  ‘No wonder.’

  When they were sitting in the kitchen, she poured Mrs Reddish a cup of tea and waited to find out what she wanted.

  ‘I know you’ve got to break up your home and find lodgings, dear.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I may have a better answer to your problems.’

  And hens might bark, Norah thought, but tried not to show how much she doubted this because Mrs Reddish was a kind woman, a sincere Christian who’d helped a lot of people, unlike the vicar’s wife, who was a stuck-up snob.

  The other hesitated. ‘It’s – a bit of a drastic solution I’m offering, Norah, so I’ll just come straight out with it. I know a man who wants to go and live in Australia. They’re giving away land to ex-servicemen out there, you see. He’s a widower with two lads. He’s just broken up with a young woman he was engaged to, and a good thing too, because she’s a flighty piece. But he can’t go to Australia unless he has a wife to work alongside him and – and well, I thought of you.’

  If a flaming devil had jumped out of the fire and started dancing on the table, Norah would have been no more surprised than she was by this suggestion. Struck dumb, she could only gape at her visitor.

  ‘I know it’s a bolt from the blue, but it’d solve both your problems.’

  ‘Are you – serious about this?’

  ‘Yes, of course I am. You don’t think I’d come here if I wasn’t.’ Mrs Reddish waited and nudged gently, ‘Well? Are you willing to consider it?’

  Norah should have said no straight off because it was a ridiculous idea. But she’d felt so low tonight at the thought of going into lodgings that heaven help her, she couldn’t dismiss it out of hand. ‘I don’t know. I can’t seem to take it in.’

  Mrs Reddish clasped her hand and looked earnestly into her eyes. ‘Let’s concentrate on the facts. That’s always a good way to start. The man is a widower with two sons. He was engaged to that Betty Simpson, who works in the draper’s shop, but she wouldn’t go to Australia with him so they broke up.’

  Norah glanced across at the mirror and let out a snort of derision. ‘Well, he wouldn’t even look at a plain maypole like me after her. I know her by sight. She’s the prettiest lass in town.’

  ‘And one of the silliest, too. It’d have been a disastrous match. He’s not only got a good brain, but he’s a sensible, caring sort of man who wants to give his sons a better life than they could have here. If you married him, you could do the same for your daughter.’

  ‘I can’t—’

  ‘Shh! Don’t say no. Think about it overnight.’

  ‘But I—’

  Mrs Reddish stood up. ‘I’m not listening to anything you say now. Consider your future carefully, then come and see me first thing tomorrow morning if you’re interested in pursuing matters, in which case, don’t bother going to work. We’d need to act quickly, before you lose your home and he loses his chance of a place on this scheme. Just remember: he needs you as much as you need him, so it’d be an equal bargain.’

  And she was gone, leaving Norah so astounded she stood there in the hall for ages before the cold draught from underneath the front door made her shiver and she went back to her place in front of the kitchen fire.

  It was a ridiculous idea.

  Wasn’t it?

  Andrew slept badly. Why was he letting his cousin push him into this? And why was he getting so het up? He was probably worrying for nothing because what sensible woman would agree to go out to Australia with someone she hardly knew?

  Only – what if this one did say yes? Where would that leave him?

  He was being stupid.

  No decent woman would possibly agree to it.

  And anyway, they had to meet first and they might not like one another, probably wouldn’t.

  No, it was the daftest idea he’d ever heard of.

  When he went downstairs, the boys were eating their breakfast. Lyddie beckoned to him and said in a low voice, ‘Mrs Reddish sent a message round. You’re to stay home from work this morning. If you don’t hear anything by midday, it means the woman isn’t interested. If she is, Mrs Reddish will send for you to meet her.’

  All the air seemed suddenly to vanish from the room.

  ‘Did you hear what I said, Andrew?’

  ‘Yes.’


  ‘Will you do it?’

  He shrugged, couldn’t frame a single word, it all felt so unreal.

  Lyddie gave him a strange look, but didn’t say anything else. Luckily it was a fine day, so after the lads had gone to school, he got out his tools and went into the back yard to repair a chair he’d bought for pennies, a fancy rocking chair that had been damaged. It always soothed him, working with wood did. He should have gone into carpentry, not metal working.

  By morning Norah had decided to tell Mrs Reddish she couldn’t possibly consider her offer. But then the woman from across the road came over to look at the furniture that was left. She lingered to study Norah’s sofa. ‘I think I’ll take this off your hands as well, but I’m not giving you more than three shillings for it.’

  Three shillings for a sofa like this! And the pitiful offer came from a woman who was comfortably off, with a husband and three grown children in full-time work. Norah’s gorge rose and she couldn’t, she just could not, give her sofa away so cheaply. She’d set fire to it, rather. ‘I’ve another offer to consider, so I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Take it or leave it now.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to leave it.’

  The woman sniffed. ‘Some people don’t know how to accept help.’

  ‘And some people don’t know how to offer it generously.’There was a moment’s silence, the visitor glaring at her, and Norah was sorry she’d lost her temper. ‘I’ve got to go out now, I’m afraid. I have to see someone.’

  ‘I wondered why you weren’t at work. I hope nothing else is wrong?’