Two Houses, Alike in Dignity, chapter 4. A Rowansford story

Chapter 4 Blake was cooking: the usual cheap food that was all he could afford, but for once he wasn’t thinking resentfully about his own poverty or his extremely basic living conditions. Since his unexpected encounter with Claire some weeks back, he’d had her green-eyed gaze on his mind. Her ready defence of her mother had impressed him, and her fighting spirit appealed to him. He’d taken to keeping an eye out for her and had noticed how she protected her younger sister as well, sheltering her from old Albert’s wrath, keeping her from doing things that would annoy the old man. She was so unlike his older brother! Carl had used his position as the eldest to undermine Blake at every turn, and to do Blake out of his share and his position in the family business. More than that, he’d made it impossible for Blake to get a decent job, dropping subtly poisoned hints into the ears of any would-be employer. Blake had had to come here, somewhere where he was totally unknown, somewhere off his brother’s radar, and take this most basic of jobs in order to be able to support himself through the year. Blake sat down to eat, thinking this time about Claire’s mother Martha. He’d written her off at first as being too stuck-up to speak to him, but now he was changing his mind.
He'd been very careful about how he’d observed Martha – Albert would probably have sacked him on the spot, and he needed this job. But their paths inevitably crossed from time to time around the farm, and although Martha didn’t know it, someone was noticing her as a person again. And Blake was seeing a woman who was too thin, too tired, too drawn and too overworked. He was seeing a woman who had lost hope, felt defeated, battered into submission by life’s unhappiness. Blake had admired Claire’s fighting spirit, but Martha’s loneliness and exhaustion stirred his heart to pity, and the beginnings of a desire to protect her. Martha seemed to do all the work and never have a day off. Claire and Georgina were kept pretty busy too – Albert seemed to think that that was what girls were for. He didn’t seem to be fond of Timothy either, though the little boy was an engaging child, but he obviously thought that the boy was way more important than his sisters or his mother. “Battisfords!” Claire said. “We’ve found my ancestors! All huddled together up this corner.”
She was actually quite enjoying her graveyard project – but she enjoyed David’s company even more.
“Better get started then,” David said. “You write, I’ll read them out to you.” “Sacred to the memory of…” David began, and she started writing as neatly as possible – this had to look like she’d taken time over it, to justify her absence. “Hey, there’s a Waterfold here!”
“I don’t believe it!” Claire dropped her notebook and went over to where David was standing.
“Hezekiah Battisford, died 1847…beloved wife Arabella, née Waterfold. You’re right! But how come? They must have had some courage.”
“I’ll ask my parents. Or Jonathan Saxtead – you know, Charlie’s grandfather. He knows loads about local history. Looks like we’re not the only Romeo and Juliet in the clan.” Claire’s heart did as strange double thump. Romeo and Juliet? But David was still talking – not as easily now, but with definite meaning.
“Claire I really do think…I mean….Could you? Do you? Claire, I really like you. Really, really like you.” “I like you too. Really, really like you.” “You know what I think?” Claire said, high on courage and excitement, as the family were in the kitchen that evening.
“I’d like some proper clothes and not these stupid old-fashioned ones. Like some jeans for instance.”
“Claire, don’t say things like that!” Georgina looked panicky. “Great-grandfather wouldn’t like it. He thinks women shouldn’t wear trousers. It’s unfeminine.”
“Oh, don’t worry. He can’t eat you.” Claire ignored her sister’s fears. “Mum, why can’t we have more sensible clothes? I mean, in these we all look like we came out of the ark.” Her voice came clearly through the kitchen door and reached her great-grandfather’s ears. So she wanted different clothes, did she? Well, he’d teach her a lesson or two. He’d noticed her changed attitude recently – this would show her who was still in charge in this household. Bryony and Anita’s friendship was growing steadily. Bryony’s calm good nature disarmed Anita’s defences, and Bryony was so grateful to Anita for cheering up Alice and Jacob Barden’s life. Then there were the children too – Bryony was eager to learn from Anita’s experience.
“I don’t actually know anyone with young children. I’ve been so involved with running the stables…”
Anita laughed. “I don’t know that I’m much of an expert!” “You know more than I do! And Amy’s happy and healthy – her dad would have been proud of you.”
Little by little, Anita had talked about Amy’s father – his childhood as an orphan in an Indian dockside slum, his determination to rise above his beginnings, scraping what work he could at the docks, and always, always learning whatever he could. “I’d like to think that. She’s certainly got his cheerful nature. Everyone said that about him – always cheerful, nothing was ever too much trouble for him.”
Bryony still didn’t know how Raj had died, but she wasn’t going to ask. Anita would tell her if she wanted to: for now it made Anita happy to talk about Raj as she’d known him. Bryony picked up Megan to wind her – and felt an all too familiar sensation as her daughter let fly with an almighty burp.
“Bother. I think she’s just been sick down my back. Let me put her down and get changed, and then you can fill me in on all the latest news from Jacob and Alice.” “Talking of clothes,” Bryony said, coming back down and putting a pile of neatly folded jeans on the coffee table, “I’ve changed shape since having the twins and these don’t fit me anymore. Are they any use to you? Otherwise, they’re going to a charity shop.”
“Really?” Anita looked up at her friend. “You don’t look like you’re bigger.” She was still wary of being beholden to someone.
“Really! I measure much the same, but my hips have changed shape – I’ll put a pair on and show you if you like. I need a curvier cut now. They’re all a bit worn, but not totally in holes…Donald made me throw those ones away.”
“Thank you,” Anita said, and watched a bit of her fierce independence crumble away without regrets. “So how were Alice and Jacob? I haven’t been able to get over for the past couple of weeks – Donald’s been too busy at work to babysit Megan.”
“Fine. Daisy was there again the other day, and she and Alice were working on those dresses – I was painting, and I could hear them laughing and chatting away. Alice was all happy and sparkly. I thought she was just a really quiet person.”
“She used to be all lively and talkative. I’m so glad that hasn’t gone for ever. It was such a happy household when I was young – all laughter and lively arguments between Sarah and Luke, though never serious. They were so close. Luke used to be cheerful too, and not all gloomy and scowly like he is now.” Luke used to be cheerful? That was news to Anita. She hadn’t told Bryony of her own run-ins with Luke, nor of his deep dislike of herself and Amy. He’d said he’d be polite to them both, in front of his parents, but she needn’t think they’d ever be friends. And she’d given as good as she got, and told him that he’d neglected his parents, that his girlfriend had just wanted to rip them off – and Anita and Amy weren’t the bad guys in his parents’ lives, thank you very much! He had started visiting his parents again at their house, so maybe she’d done some good there… “We’re sorting and stapling all this lot! How did we get landed with that?”
Neither David nor Harry was too happy with the task that so obviously lay ahead of them – they had enough to do with their homework.
“Jonathan Saxtead dropped them off,” Emily explained. “They’re questionnaires for the Grammar School anniversary celebrations, specially for older ex-pupils. ‘We don’t all do things on our phones or computers,’ he said! Oh and he said that if you drop them back round, he’s got some information for you.”
That changed everything! Jonathan must have found out about that Battisford/Waterfold marriage back in the eighteen hundreds. David applied himself to his homework with renewed vigour. Coming back up the road from Jonathan’s house late that night, David’s head was full of all Jonathan had told him!
“And will you ask your dad if there’s any family diaries or anything? This is a story I didn’t know about at all, but it will make a good paper for the next local history meeting. I’m going to look up their wills as well: it looks like there were some interesting marriage settlements. The Battisford she married was just the third son of a miller, and yet there’s that big farm in the Battisford family now…”
He couldn’t wait to tell Claire all about it! Next time they met… But there was no next time. David went to the graveyard on their usual day, but there was no sign of Claire, though he waited and waited. And then, two days later, a hurried message sent via Charlie.
“Tell David I can’t see him again. And he mustn’t try to get in touch with me either.”
What had happened?

Two Houses, Alike in Dignity, Chapter 3. A Rowansford story.

“It’s all settled then. Alice Bardon will give you sewing lessons – and that’s Grandmère and Grandpère’s birthday present to you. You’ve managed really well on that old machine – with Grandmère’s Pfaff, you’ll do even better.”
Daisy blushed with pleasure at her mother’s praise. “Good. I want to make those dresses for Poppy and Chloe, and I want them to look really good. I’m going to need some help.”
“Well, you shall have it. You know,” Jonnie went on, changing the subject, “you’re right about this room. It desperately needs decorating. Have a think about it in your spare time. I’d value your advice.” Daisy had other things on her mind though. “Mum. About Sarah Bardon. What do I say? I mean…”
Jonnie looked fondly at her daughter. “You don’t have to say anything. But if Alice wants to talk about her – and that’s a good thing – then just listen to what she says and answer it. Like if she says Sarah used to love sledging in the winter, then you could say where did she normally go. Nothing complicated. Does that make sense?
“Yes. Yes, I think it does. Thanks Mum.” And to Jonnie’s pleasure, Daisy hugged her mother. One thing David had worked out was how to get in touch with Claire again. He ate his breakfast in record time and then raced down the road to Saxtead Villa.
“Charlie – will you do me a big favour and give a note to Claire Battisford? You do know her, don’t you?”
“I can find her,” Charlie said, calm and unflappable as always.
“Cheers, Charlie,” David said, doing the secret handshake they’d used as children. He fished the note out of his pocket, shoved it into Charlie’s hand and raced off again. “That’s what I like to see,” Patrick said, coming in to get something from the desk. “Focus. Concentration. Devotion to duty…David, Charlie dropped off a note for you: it’s on the hall table. She couldn’t stop, she was already late!”
“Thanks,” David said off-handedly – but inside he couldn’t wait to be alone to open it. Daisy got a total surprise when her grandpère dropped her off at the Bardon’s farmhouse and she walked into a room full of mothers and babies! After a while, it resolved itself into two mothers, one baby and one toddler. She recognised Bryony Brent-Eleigh without any trouble – what was confusing was that she was playing with a toddler, and Daisy knew that Bryony’s twins were only four weeks older than her own baby brother Jack. And the person cuddling the baby was a total stranger. Alice Bardon made the introductions.
“This is Amy, here on the floor. She’s our little ray of sunshine! And this is Anita, her mother, who’s helped us so much in the past months.” In more ways than one, said her tone of voice.
“Now, this is Daisy, who’s learning to sew and is coming to me for lessons. You’ve got some lovely fabric there, Daisy. Show me the patterns as well!” “I love the difference you and Amy have made here.” There was no mistaking Bryony’s sincerity, and Anita blushed with pleasure. Alice and Daisy had gone upstairs to look through Alice’s sewing stores, Alice muttering, if we did that bit differently, you’d get a better finish, and the two of them were alone together. Apart from the children, of course. Bryony went on.
“After Sarah died, it knocked them sideways.” Her eyes misted over. “Knocked us all sideways actually. Sarah was my best friend for as long as I can remember.”
Anita’s eyes flickered to the baby lying on the playmat and Bryony nodded.
“Yes, I named little Sarah for her. And Alice can already tell her apart from her twin sister!” “Twins! Oh my! I found one was a lot of work.”
“Well, I have got help – Donald, my husband and also Matthew, my stepson. Who loves the girls. So it’s not just me and the twins on our own.” Bryony had a feeling Anita was a single parent, even though she wore an engagement ring. But she didn’t want to sound like she was prying. Anita didn’t mind talking to Bryony though – there was something about her open and down-to-earth personality that appealed.
“Amy’s dad died before I even knew I was pregnant with her. It’s been just her and me ever since.”
Bryony’s unspoken sympathy was written all over her face. Anita was watching her daughter but talking to Daisy. Daisy and Alice had cut out all the pattern pieces and were taking a well-earned break.
“Tell me about what you’re making.”
“Well,” Daisy said, taking a deep breath. “There’s a school dance coming up and I’ve got these two friends I want to make dresses for, because we can’t find anything to buy that they’ll look good in.” As always, when discussing clothes, Daisy began to get animated.
“One of them’s a redhead and all the colours that are in at the moment look awful on her. So the green’s for her. And my other friend, she’s got a gorgeous curvy figure and amazing colouring, but everything’s skin tight and that doesn’t flatter her at all.” “They’re lucky to have you,” Anita said lightly.
“No, I’m lucky to have them,” Daisy said soberly, thinking back to when she’d not been such a good friend.
“I like your new haircut, Anita,” Alice said, sensing Daisy’s discomfort and changing the subject.
“Oh, that was Flora. She forced me. She insisted that I let her daughter cut it for me.”
“I bet she had to force you.” Alice laughed and said to Bryony, “Anita is so independent! She won’t take anything from us. She painted the whole of the outside downstairs, sanded down the kitchen cupboards for Jacob to paint…”
“You know how determined Flora is,” Anita said. “She practically tied me to the chair and gave Naomi the scissors…” “Flora Pettistree and Naomi Aspal?” The red dress is for Naomi’s daughter Poppy!” Daisy exclaimed.
“What a small world,” Anita said, beginning to like Daisy a lot.
Alice looked round the table and suddenly realised that for the first time in ages she felt happy again. The room was full of people, full of women, connected to each other, giving to each other. I feel like I’m part of something again, she thought.
“Have I seen you working at the supermarket?” Anita went on.
Daisy nodded. "First I was saving up to decorate my room – now I’m saving up for contact lenses. But I do spend some of it on clothes too!” Dusk was falling as Amy and Anita got ready to leave, but Amy had to say goodbye to the hens first! Bryony went outside with them both.
“It’s been lovely to meet you,” she said, and once again Anita couldn’t doubt her sincerity. “Could we get together again some time?”
“I’d like that,” Anita answered, surprising herself. “I’d like that a lot.” How long had it been since she’d had a friend around her own age? Not since Amy’s daddy had died. Georgina glanced nervously up at her older sister as their great-grandfather came towards them for the ritual inspection. What if they weren’t neat enough? Claire however gazed serenely ahead. She was no longer afraid of him. She was going to break free. She wasn’t sure how, yet, but she would. He wasn’t going to rule her life any longer. She’d destroyed David’s note to het, but she knew it by heart, and she was going to see him again! In the dingy and old-fashioned kitchen, Martha heard Albert barking gruffly at the children, and her tired and aching heart contracted within her. If only they could get away from here! But how? And where would they go? “You made it!” David was delighted.
“Yes. I’m doing this as an extra-credit project – so I’ll have to go back home with plenty of notes to show for it! You can dictate things to me as we talk.” David was delighted: Claire was determined. “What about your mum and dad? Do they mind you seeing me?”
“Quite the opposite. Mum said I could bring you round whenever I liked and she’d be really pleased to meet you. She says she’s got no time for silly feuds from years and years ago.” Claire was pleased, but hid her pleasure under briskness.
“I’d better make a start on the Great Graveyard Project. What’s this one?” There were fresh spring flowers on the grave. “Sarah Bardon, aged 27. That’s not very old. August 17th – hey, she died coming up four years ago.”
“The Bardons we met in the library – that’s their daughter. Didn’t you know about it?”
“Oh.” Claire was saddened – she’d liked that couple, until they had warned David away from her.
“David, I don’t know anybody. Great-grandfather won’t let us have friends. I don’t think Mum’s been off the farm since we came here four years ago.” “But that’s awful! He can’t do that to you, surely?” Claire was rather touched by his indignation.
“We don’t have any choice. Except now I’m making some choices of my own. But – we need a home. Georgina’s only eight and Timothy’s only three. If it was just Mum and me…but three children?”
“And you’ve no other family?” David sighed heavily as Claire shook her head.
“I must get some work done. Great-grandfather will demand to see it.” In the end, Claire sat down and drew plans and made notes of the inscriptions on the gravestones while David read them aloud to her. They managed another ten minutes’ conversation as well, before Claire said she’d have to go.
“But next week. I reckon I can manage once a week for this term – luckily it’s getting warmer and lighter, instead of colder and darker. And after that, we’ll see what we can do.” “Until next time then,” David said. “Be careful.” And an amazing lightness swept through Claire at the thought that someone was worried about her, cared for her.