Cherry Tree Lane Page 7

  He was suddenly sure that, lady or not, she’d had a domineering father, but he didn’t say so, of course.

  She shook her head quickly, like a dog shaking off raindrops. ‘I’d like to go on helping her. It’s not fitting for you to nurse her, a man on your own.’

  ‘We can hardly move her to the big house. She needs to be kept quiet and warm until her congestion eases.’

  ‘Yes. I’d send young Lyddie down to help you, but I need to keep the girl with me in case we get more intruders. She’s the only one nimble enough to run for help if necessary.’ She looked round. ‘You definitely need a woman’s touch in this house.’

  ‘We manage all right.’

  She speared him with a glance. ‘Not really, Mr Kemble. This room could do with a good bottoming. Mrs Grey hasn’t been doing a very good job. And I daresay the rest of the house is as bad. Your clothes may be clean but they’re torn and haven’t been ironed.’

  He couldn’t help scowling. ‘It’s a small village. There isn’t anyone I could hire to do my mending who wouldn’t take advantage. Mrs Henty said I should marry Essie Jupe.’

  ‘Good heavens! No man in his senses would marry that slovenly fool.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘If you’re to help me as I wish, I believe I must first help you sort out your life. I shall look for a wife for you, one who will be a helpmeet and a credit to you.’

  Before he could refuse this offer she stood up and made for the door.

  After it had closed behind her, he came back to sit in front of the kitchen range and have a think. The way Miss Newington had spoken made him feel uneasy, because he had a suspicion she was planning something. He didn’t want to marry again, well, not unless he met someone he could love and respect. He had his children and that was enough for the moment.

  But if he had the new job, he could perhaps afford to hire Lyddie’s sister to be his housekeeper instead of marrying someone he didn’t particularly like. Yes, that might be the thing to do. Surely Miss Newington would understand that? He’d put it to her next time he saw her.

  That night intruders once again tried to attack Newington House, three of them this time. Horace greeted them with a blast of his shotgun from the room above the stables.

  The shot and their howls of fury woke Emily and she picked up her own weapon and crept down to a bedroom overlooking the backyard, whose window she’d left open deliberately.

  They were trying to batter the outer door of the stables now, so she let them have it from behind. Shot pattered against walls and doors, but some of it must have found its mark because there were yelps of pain and they cursed before limping off into the darkness.

  One stopped to yell, ‘We’ll be back.’

  Would they really keep coming back? she wondered. Perhaps. Or perhaps something else would happen. Her cousin had made no secret of his annoyance that she owned this place and his determination to get hold of it. She’d better get that new will made out and signed quickly. After the scornful way Arthur had spoken to her and these recent events, she was determined that, whatever happened to her, he would not benefit in any way from her inheritance.

  She’d inform the police about this second attack on her way to the lawyer’s in Swindon, but had no faith in that young policeman. She must definitely find herself some protectors, perhaps men from the village. Arthur couldn’t start an all-out battle, after all.

  She sighed. She was finding it all extremely exhausting.

  Stan made his way across to Bart during the lunch break. ‘I spoke to my cousin last night. He’s going to ask the other tram drivers if anyone took a fare from a woman with a heavy cold that morning. There wouldn’t be many people out in such weather, would there?’

  Bart shrugged and watched the entrance.

  ‘Where’s your food?’

  ‘The boy’s bringing me something.’

  ‘If your daughters don’t come back, you’re going to need a wife.’

  ‘Last thing I bloody need.’

  ‘Don’t you miss it, having someone in bed?’

  ‘No. If I need it, I find someone. Don’t need it as often these days, anyway.’

  ‘The sort you find go with anyone for a drink or two.’

  ‘I don’t care what they do the rest of the time. Ah, there he is!’ Bart heaved himself to his feet, sucked in his breath for a minute, then straightened up and waved to the boy.

  Stan watched this, eyes narrowed. He’d seen Bart twitch with what could only be a sudden stab of pain a few times now, but hadn’t said anything. He looked across and saw the foreman watching them too.

  When Bart sat down again, he whispered, ‘The foreman saw it.’

  ‘Saw what?’

  ‘You stop moving and wince.’

  ‘I had a cramp in me foot.’

  ‘Didn’t look like your foot to me. You clutched your chest.’

  ‘I’m all right, I tell you. Mind your own damned business.’

  Stan shrugged.

  During the next few days the invalid improved steadily, and was well enough for Jacob and the children to leave her alone and go to church on the Sunday.

  After the service, the children were invited to have Sunday dinner with some of their friends, which Jacob accepted. He refused the same invitation for himself, however, and went off home looking forward to a nice ham steak he’d bought from the village shop, which brought in meat orders twice a week.

  When he went into the front room, he found Mattie sitting up in bed reading a book.

  She looked up with a smile. ‘Are you back already?’

  He nodded. ‘The curate doesn’t preach long sermons. Folk round here wouldn’t stand for it.’ He smiled. ‘And anyway, he’s no good at preaching and cares more about the choir. He’s a kind man, but he’s a scholar and very impractical. No one understands half of what he says in his sermons, not even his bossy wife. Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘Yes, please. If it’s not too much trouble.’

  ‘I’m having one myself.’

  When he came back, he sat down and cradled his mug in his hands. ‘You’ll be needing some clothing if you’re to get up properly tomorrow. I’ve got your clothes washed and dried, but I’m no hand at ironing, so they’re all crumpled. I hope you don’t mind. Oh, and there are some of Alice’s things that might fit you, as well, near enough anyway if you can take the hems up. She was bigger built than you and taller.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t use those!’ Mattie exclaimed involuntarily. ‘That would be too painful for you, Mr Kemble.’

  Jacob swallowed hard and shook his head. ‘I know it’s what Alice would have wanted. And anyway, it’s time I did something with her stuff. It’s been sitting there for over a year now. Can’t waste good clothing, can we? And you’ve nothing but what you brought in that bundle. The things got stained with mud and water from when you fell. I can’t get the stains out.’

  Tears filled Mattie’s eyes at his generosity, but she could only nod. ‘Thank you, then.’

  He sat on a bit longer but she could feel her eyelids getting heavy and couldn’t stay awake. When she awoke from another healing sleep she was alone.

  Strange how safe she felt with him now that she’d got to know him a little. Only a kind man would take in a stranger like this. And Miss Newington was kind, too, in her abrupt way.

  Mattie had been very lucky that they’d found her and cared for her, she knew. And surely her stepfather wouldn’t find her here? Jacob said there were only about thirty houses in the village and it was off the main road to Chippenham.

  The following morning after the children had gone to school Mattie washed herself and got dressed. That tired her so much, she made her way into the kitchen on shaky legs and had to sit down for a few minutes. As she looked around, she shook her head at the mess. Poor man, he worked so hard. But no one could do everything.

  The table had been wiped clean, but through an open door she could see the morning’s dishes piled on the wooden drai
ning board in the scullery, and it looked as if a pan was soaking in the enamel washing-up bowl in the big square slopstone. There was no sign of Jacob, but when she looked out of the window, there he was, bent over his rows of plants. She smiled at the sight of him, such a kind man and as unlike her stepfather or Stan as any man could be.

  She studied him, liking the way his fair hair blew about in the breeze, the graceful way he stepped between the rows of plants. He was tall and slim, not bulky like her stepfather and Stan. In fact, he was a very attractive man. She could feel her cheeks heat up at this thought. It was a long time since a man had affected her like this.

  Beyond him was a small tree, its branches waving in the breeze, as if it was showing off its delicate white blossoms. It was going to be beautiful when it was fully in bloom. She stood and stared at it for a long time. And when she looked beyond it, there were others like it in the distance. Cherry trees, probably.

  Although she wasn’t strong enough to do much, she found some potatoes and peeled them for tea as she sat by the table, leaving them covered with water in a pan. She also tidied up a few things, working for a few minutes, then resting.

  An hour later she felt so sleepy she decided to go back into the front room for another lie-down. It was so frustrating. She wanted to help them, not be a burden.

  As she stood up the back door opened and Jacob came towards her. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Better, but I still tire easily. I was looking out of the window earlier. What are those trees, the ones with white blossoms? You have a small one and there are two bigger ones in the distance.’

  ‘Cherry trees. That’s why they call this Cherry Tree Lane.’

  ‘They’ll be beautiful when they’re in full bloom. Even now, it’s a pleasure to look out at them.’

  He smiled. ‘I love them, look forward to them blooming every year.’ He looked at the table and said abruptly, ‘You’ve been tidying up a bit, haven’t you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘You shouldn’t overtire yourself. You’re looking very pale still.’ He sounded disapproving.

  ‘I only peeled the potatoes and put a few things away. And I was going to rest.’ She swayed, feeling a little dizzy now.

  ‘You shouldn’t be doing anything yet. We don’t want you relapsing.’

  He picked her up without a word and she couldn’t help crying out in shock and stiffening.

  ‘I shan’t hurt you.’ He looked down at her, his face so close it made her breath catch in her throat for a moment or two.

  ‘I was going to lie down,’ she said as he continued into the front room and laid her on the sofa.

  ‘Then I was just helping you do what you wanted.’ His smile made her feel warm and cherished. ‘You hardly weigh a thing.’

  ‘I take after my mother. But I do need a rest now.’ She sighed and snuggled down against the soft feather pillows.

  He bent over to pull up the covers, pausing with his head just above hers. ‘Have a good rest now. And thank you for your help.’

  Her last thought was: What a lovely man he is!

  When Mattie woke up she saw it was half past twelve by the clock on the mantelpiece. She yawned and stretched, and this time didn’t feel dizzy. She made it out to the privy and back quite easily.

  Of course, that attracted Jacob’s attention and he came striding across to her looking anxious. ‘Are you sure you should be outside?’

  ‘It’s quite warm today. I love the feel of sunshine on my face, don’t you? I’m glad winter’s over.’ She turned her face up to the sun.

  ‘Well, don’t push yourself too hard. I’ll come in now and make something for us to eat.’

  ‘That’d be nice. I’m feeling quite hungry.’

  Jacob thought how pretty she was when she smiled, but she was still so frail-looking he couldn’t help worrying about her. He made sure she was comfortable in the rocking chair before he did anything else.

  ‘I’m not normally ill at all. I’m sure I’ll get better quickly now.’ She looked down at herself ruefully, holding up one arm to stare at her wrist. ‘I’ve lost a lot of weight, though.’

  ‘You’ll get better more quickly if you rest.’

  ‘Nonsense. I’ll just stay weak if I don’t move around a little. I’d planned to sit by the window this afternoon, but I could do some sewing. Do you have any clothes which need mending?’

  He smiled ruefully. ‘I think most of ours do.’

  ‘Good. I like to be useful.’

  ‘But—’

  She held up one hand. ‘Please don’t argue. That won’t be at all taxing and I’d get bored with nothing to do. I’m a good needlewoman, I promise you. Do you have some sewing things?’

  ‘You can only do it if you promise to have another lie-down when you’re tired.’

  ‘I shall. I’m not a fool, Mr Kemble.’

  ‘I don’t even know your second name. You just said Mattie before.’

  ‘It’s Willitt. But can’t you call me Mattie? It seems more friendly.’

  ‘Only if you’ll call me Jacob.’

  ‘Jacob, then.’ She smiled at him.

  He realised he was standing like an idiot, smiling back at her, so went to find Alice’s sewing box. She’d always hated mending and sewing, poor lass, would rather have been outside working with him.

  Mattie inspected the contents of the sewing box. ‘Plenty of thread here and the needles haven’t rusted. It’ll feel good to pay you back a little.’

  ‘I don’t need paying back.’

  ‘Well, I can’t sit and read all the time, though you have some interesting books.’ She gestured to the small bookcase, crammed with books of all sorts.

  He loved books, sometimes picked them up cheaply at Swindon Market. ‘You like reading?’

  ‘I used to when I got the chance, which wasn’t often. My stepfather didn’t believe in it, said it was a waste of time, so I had to hide my library books and steal the odd half-hour with them during the day.’

  ‘That’s the man you’re running away from? You’d better tell me his name so that I’ll know him if I meet him.’

  ‘He’s called Bart Fuller.’ She shuddered. ‘And I pray he won’t find me.’

  ‘Is he the one who beat you so badly?’

  Her colour deepened and a shamed look came onto her face. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I wanted to get married. He crippled the man I was to marry and he left town in a hurry.’

  Jacob could see that he was distressing her, so didn’t press the matter. But if that stepfather ever tried to touch her again, he’d take great pleasure in giving him some of his own medicine. Jacob never started fights, but he knew how to look after himself – and those he cared about. That thought made him blink, then he told himself it was natural to care about someone whose life you’d saved.

  When he sat her at the table with some bread and cheese, and a wizened apple from last year’s store, she said. ‘Jacob … I couldn’t help noticing that Sarah’s clothes are too small for her. I’ll try to let them out, but if you would purchase some material, I’d be happy to sew a new summer dress for her before I leave. It needn’t cost more than a few shillings. Miss Newington might get some material for you. She’s very kind, isn’t she?’

  He stopped eating, not liking the thought of never seeing Mattie again. ‘You talk about leaving, but it’ll be a while before you’re fit enough to go. And where would you go, anyway? Do you have anyone who’ll take you in until you can find work for yourself?’

  Mattie shook her head, looking sad. ‘No. But I’m a good worker. Maybe I’ll find myself a job as a maid in a big house. Or in a hotel. You get bed and board that way.’

  He felt relieved. ‘Then there’s no need for you to rush away. We could make you up a bed in the attic once you’re well. We could do with a bit of help here, as you can see, a sort of housekeeper. There are two little bedrooms up there in the attic.’

  ‘You’re such a kind man.’
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  ‘It’d help us all to have you here.’

  The back door opened and Miss Newington came in. He was sorry that stopped him and Mattie talking. His visitor was such pleasant company.

  Emily looked across the room, pleased to see the invalid up and about. She saw the touch of colour in her cheeks, the way Jacob was smiling at his guest, and wondered what they’d been talking about. ‘Are you feeling better, Mattie?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Miss Newington. I’ve just been thanking Jacob for saving my life.’

  ‘He definitely did that.’

  Jacob got up, looking embarrassed. ‘Anyone would have done the same. Now, I’d better get back to my garden. It’s my busy season.’

  ‘He’s a fine man,’ Emily said thoughtfully once the door had shut behind him.

  ‘Yes, he is.’

  ‘How do you get on with the children?’

  ‘I haven’t seen much of Luke, but Sarah seems to have adopted me and is treating me like a pet puppy.’ Mattie chuckled. ‘She’s a delightful child, as kind as her father.’

  ‘Good. Good.’

  There was silence as Mattie closed her eyes and when Emily didn’t speak, the younger woman’s breathing deepened and she fell asleep again.

  Emily studied her companion. She seemed a sensible sort and was pretty enough for any man, now she was looking better. She had lovely blue eyes and a nice, open expression on her face. You could tell a lot about people from their eyes, Emily always felt. She began to tidy up quietly, noting that someone had made a start on that. She began sorting out the washing, which was piled anyhow in a corner of the scullery. She’d send her scrubbing woman down one day to do it.

  After an hour had ticked away, she woke Mattie. ‘Do you need any help before I go back?’

  ‘No, thank you. I’m a lot better today and I managed to get to the outhouse all right.’

  ‘Very well.’ Emily went to stand by the window and watch Jacob work. She’d never seen him idle.

  She made a cup of tea, chatted for a while, wanting to get to know the young woman better. As she walked slowly home, she admitted she felt rather tired today. She was getting old and it was frustrating not to be able to do all she wanted.