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.