Give Me Your Answer, Do, chapter 4. A Rowansford story.

“I’m going to be out until 4 pm – shopping, lunch and then this tiresome meeting this afternoon, but if I don’t go heavens only knows what ideas people will come up with. Last time someone suggested having a crȇche so that mothers could bring their young children with them! We don’t want a background of bawling babies.”
“But wouldn’t that mean more people could come? You said you were getting low on members…”
“They can leave their children with someone else. Now what are you going to do?”
“Oh, the garden. There’s a lot to do in it at this time of the year…”
“Very well. And the kitchen needs tidying too – and have you made the bed?” Jack Harleston changed into his gardening clothes, made the bed and went to tidy up the kitchen, sighing slightly. The “mess” consisted of a single milk jug that needed to be washed up and put away. The rest of the kitchen was its usual pristine, sterile self. Jack sighed again. He missed the days when Jonnie had still been at home and the house had been a little more lively. Still, with Cynthia out of the way, at least Jack could phone his daughter for a chat.
“Jonnie. How are you my dear?”
“Dad! How nice to hear from you. Huge, hot, tired, irritable…you name it, I’m doing it.” But there was laughter in her voice.
“Mum’s out, I take it?”
“Yes, all day.”
“Then come round and see me. Come for lunch. Jonathan and Lorraine would love to see you too.”
Why not, Jack thought.
“Love to. I’ll be around at about one.” He’d better crack on with the garden until then! “Jonathan! She looks beautiful! You’ve done an amazing job there.” Hearing the noise from the garage, Jack had tried there first. He was seriously impressed by the car – last time he’d seen it, there had still been parts missing.
“And that paint finish is so good.”
“It’s all in the preparation,” Jonathan said, smiling a little – it had been a catchphrase of the woodwork teacher when they’d both been at school together.
“Old Stonehouse knew a thing or two,” Jack admitted. “It’s the same in the garden – prepare the soil right, and the plants grow.” “Tell you who we had round for a meal the other day – talking of old school days – and that was Archie and his Flora. They were asking after you. Do you remember the time you and Archie and I were trying out his patent apple-stealer in the Barden’s orchards?”
“Yes! And it gripped the branch and wouldn’t let go, and Archie said we couldn’t leave it behind because he’d borrowed the parts from his mum’s kitchen and had to put them back! And so we got caught. I still don’t know how come he didn’t pass the exam for the grammar school – he was always the brightest of the three of us at primary school.”
“Total mystery,” Jonathan agreed. “Still, he did okay thanks to old Harry Tostead taking him on. I think Jonnie’s inside somewhere. Shall we go and find her? Lorraine’s out, I’m afraid...” As Jack followed Jonathan into the house, he sighed again. Archie had been an old friend of his, and Jack had liked his Flora too – but Cynthia looked down on Flora because of where she’d grown up, and the way she dressed, and down on Archie because he hadn’t gone to the grammar school (and Griselda Tostead had been beyond the pale because her father, Harry, had been illegitimate). Once she’d married Jack, she’d driven a subtle wedge into his old friendships. And now that she’d fallen out with Jonnie, Cynthia didn’t even want him to see his daughter. Well, there were limits as to what he’d stand for! And in his mild heart, a spark of rebellion grew. “Jenny, you must be one of the few women in town who isn’t about to give birth!”
“Probably because I was eight months pregnant anyway when we had the power cut!”
Lorraine had gone round to Rattlesden House to see if Jenny Waterfold wanted any of the plants she would be splitting up soon. “Tell you what, though – I wish there was some good child care available. We could really do with me working part-time at the moment, with a fifth mouth to feed.” Jenny was busy feeding the mouth as she spoke.
“And you’ll understand how expensive these old houses can be to maintain – but we can’t sell it! There’s allus been Waterfolds at Rattlesden House…”
Lorraine laughed, and agreed with Jenny.
“What’s Jonnie going to do? Has she found anything? All the places I looked at, they don’t want you part time: you have to pay for a full-time place even if you don’t use it. And then I’m earning nothing.” “She’s given up work. She never liked that job anyway – it was a bit on the soul-destroying side for her, I think. And she’ll think about what next in a little while – she really didn’t like working in an office, shunting figures around, though she was competent enough at it.”
“So why did she do it?”
“Oh – her mother pushed her into it. You know what Cynthia Harleston’s like.”
“Only too well! I suggested we started a crȇche at our monthly meetings, to get more younger women coming. Especially as there’ll be a lot of women on maternity leave at the moment. And more interesting topics for the talks as well. Would she have it? Oh no! There’s another committee meeting this afternoon, but I’m quitting. I’ve had enough.”
“That’s a real shame.”
“I’m sick of fighting against the odds. Now, what plants have you got? Over the summer, my other four have – shall we say, made inroads – on some of my borders.” “Dad, what made you marry Mum?”
This wasn’t the sort of question Jonnie would normally have asked, but having heard some of the things her mother had been saying recently, it just popped out. And normally Jack wouldn’t have answered so truthfully – but Jonathan reminding him of the friends he’d lost had opened up something inside him.
“The girl I really loved turned me down. And not for someone else – I mean I could have understood that: I’m nothing special. But she just didn’t want me. And then your mother came along – and she was so determined. I think she married me – I don’t remember proposing, but suddenly, there we were, planning a wedding.”
He paused and smiled at Jonnie.
“But if I hadn’t married her, I’d never have had you. And you’ve been the best thing in my life ever.” “Oh Dad, that’s a lovely thing for you to say.” Jonnie had to close her eyes against the sudden tears.
“And I’ve enjoyed the grandchildren too – what I’ve been allowed to see of them.” His voice was suddenly tart. “Not your fault, my dear. Do you know, I think I’m going to make a much bigger effort to get to know this one.”
He didn’t say anything else, but Jonnie was surprised. Dad planning to rebel? This was something new. “I’d better go now – I’ll go back via the garden centre and pick some stuff up.” He didn’t say: to account for me being out, but they both knew what he meant.
They left the room and crossed the landing together, past Charlie’s art space.
“I like this picture of Charlie’s.”
“It’s good, isn’t it? She’s done it for Matthew to give to Bryony after the baby’s born.” “Well, goodbye, whoever you are. I shall look forward to meeting you soon.” Jack patted his daughter’s bump gently.
“And you take care of yourself my dear.”
Oh, David, Jonathan and Lorraine do that very well! Lorraine will be sorry she missed you.”
“Give my best regards to her. We’ll arrange things a little more in advance next time.” “Charlie…” Earlier on, Jonnie had walked in on the end of yet another spat between Charlie and Daisy, and nearly been knocked over by Daisy storming out of the room. She’d decided to try to appeal to Charlie’s better nature – at least she had one!
“Charlie – when Daisy starts having a go at you, couldn’t you just let it ride? For the sake of peace?”
But Charlie had done a lot of growing up over the last year.
“Mum. It’s not me starting anything. I’m not winding Daisy up. But I’m not going to just sit there and – and be her punch-bag either. If she starts in on me, I’m fighting back. I’m not having her think she can do and say whatever she likes to me and get away with it. I’ve had enough of those games – please wear these horrible clothes to keep Grandma H sweet, while Daisy looks great in hers. And don’t make a fuss, there’s a good girl.” Lorraine was smitten to the heart.
“Oh, Charlie, I can’t believe I was so mean to you.” She hugged her – with some difficulty, as the bump got in the way!
“It’s okay, Mum,” Charlie said, her voice a bit muffled. “But I’m not doing it any more. I’m not starting anything – and I won’t either – but…” “You’re going to stand up for yourself. I know. I wish my dad and I had been better at doing that. Especially Dad.”
Jonnie looked so sad that it was Charlie’s turn to have her feelings turned over.
She paused for a moment, wanting to make her mother feel better, flattered that Jonnie had been open with her in a new way, talking to her almost as if she was an equal.
“But Grandpa H is lovely! I wish we saw more of him – I’d like to show him all my paintings and see what he thinks of them.” Jonnie’s face lightened slightly.
“Mum,” Charlie went on, totally changing the subject. “Have you ever thought of getting a different hairstyle? Maybe after the baby’s born, as a pick-me-up? It could be my birthday present to you.” Daisy was just back from work, and had gone in search of Jonathan who was, predictably enough, polishing up his pride and joy. Her grandpère was the only person Daisy really felt she could talk to at the moment – and the only person she could be at least partly honest with. She never felt like he was judging her and finding her lacking.
“Grandpère, why do you always say preparation is everything?”
This wasn’t why she’d come in search of him, and they both knew it, but he humoured her.
“If I hadn’t prepared the metal so well, this paint would be peeling off, would be lumpy, not all smooth like it is. You saw the workmen when they were doing the house as well – they got rid of all the loose plaster, filled in the holes…Preparation is about seventy per cent of the job.”
“Seventy per cent? That’s like, massive!”
“That’s the time you need to allow. But – this isn’t why you’re here. I marked the practice paper…” “Parts of it you did very well on. You’ve really grasped area, for instance.”
Daisy didn’t tell him that she’d had to come to grips with that working out how much wallpaper and paint she needed!
“And you’re fine with number when you’ve got a calculator to hand – but the non-calculator paper was a bit of a train wreck. You know what you should be doing with the numbers, which is three-quarters of the battle, but you’re making mistakes. When’s your re-take?”
“Two weeks into term.”
“Then you’ve only got four weeks left. You can do this, Daisy, but you’re really going to have to work and concentrate.”
“But I’m in work lots at the moment!” Daisy wailed.
“Perfect place to practise number. I know the till does it all for you, but try and beat it. You know the total – say £16:93 – and they’re handing you a £20 note. What’s the change going to be?”
“£4 and…7 pence.”
“Nope. Why not? If you keep analysing your wrong answers, you’ll find out where you’re going wrong. Now, algebra…” Up in her bedroom – and out of those awful work clothes – Daisy picked up her work and thought about what Jonathan had said – and what he’d asked her.
Did she want to go down a form? No, definitely not.
Was she prepared to put in the work to stop that happening? He’d left her to think about that one, and now she was.
“I think that you’re capable of it, Daisy.”
“Grandmère doesn’t.”
“What did she say?”
“Why do you make no effort…?”
“Your grandmère will never lie to you. If she had thought you couldn’t do it, she would have said: Daisy, for you this is too hard. For Charlie, no, but for you, yes.” It had been a good impersonation of Lorraine, and she’d laughed at it as Jonathan had meant her to do. The bars had gone from her window, as her dad had promised. It had been painted too, inside and out, and did look much better. Tonight, re-doing the test paper, Daisy really concentrated on her maths, trying to work out why she was making the same mistake again and again – and suddenly the answers fell into place.
“Grandpère was right! I can do this! And Grandmère was right too. Why did I think I couldn’t? Who told me I was too dumb to get it?” “Charlie thinks I should get a new hairstyle. In fact she said she’d buy it for me as a birthday present.”
“That was nice of her. After all, her new hairstyle transformed things for her. Go for it – there’s a big formal do coming up at work in a few months’ time. You can look amazing at it!” “Mind you,” David went on, his tone more intimate,” I think you look wonderful at any time. And I also think the next room to decorate is this one! Shall we try and do it before the baby arrives? You and I can sleep somewhere else – and you won’t have to lift a finger.”
“What – not even to flip through some paint sample cards?”
“Well, maybe that…” Daisy had no idea her mother liked such vivid, vibrant colours! Their bedroom was finished – and Daisy had very helpfully taken tea, coffee, snacks and cold drinks up to her father and grandfather at regular intervals – and carefully watched exactly what they were doing. She reckoned she could now definitely have a good go at her own room. And everyone else was out all day today. She’d put on her ruined clothes and tied her hair up securely – she’d seen how much mess sanding made! And all she’d have to take out of her room would be the bedclothes, mattress, chair and bedside table – she could do that. Time to make a start! Daisy had never worked so hard in her life! But she’d almost finished sanding down the woodwork. She’d cleaned up, put the electric sander away again, hidden all the used sanding sheets in a bag at the bottom of the dustbin – she was going to do this, and all by herself too. And crack that maths exam – she’d better get up early tomorrow morning to do some more revision for it. “How was your day at school?”
“Ooof! Second day back, and they’re already piling on the homework! What about you? No sign of Buster yet?”
“It won’t be much longer! For one thing, if I get any bigger, I’ll explode. But what I really wanted to say was – I think you were totally right about standing up to Daisy. She’s actually been much better recently: did you notice how helpful she was when Dad and Jonathan were doing our room?”
“Maybe there’s hope for her yet! After all, it can’t have been because there was anything in it for her.” Charlie was still sore about the way Daisy had sabotaged her chances in the Art Competition, and Jonnie couldn’t blame her, though she wished she could find a way to reconcile her daughters. But that looked pretty remote. Maybe the new baby would bring them closer together.

Give Me Your Answer, Do, Chapter 3. A Rowansford story

“So how did Matthew seem to you?” Charlie was back from staying with Matthew, and for some reason that Daisy didn’t know anything about, Jonathan was concerned for him. Charlie had new clothes as well! That was, like, so unfair – that she didn’t have to save up all her earnings to get her room decorated! Still, Daisy had had three pay packets now – another week should see her with enough.
“I think he’s okay,” Charlie said, answering Grandpère. “Ask him yourself though – he talks to you.” She smiled at her grandfather. How was she going to book a decorator though? They probably wouldn’t accept a job from a teenager. Daisy considered the problem, oblivious to what was going on around her.
“Grandpère,” she thought suddenly. “He’d probably book one for me, if I was paying.”
“Daisy, your grandmère is speaking to you,” Jonquil said, irritated by Daisy’s lack of manners. As she got ever larger and ever nearer her due date, Jonquil was becoming less sweet-tempered! “Your new glasses, my dear. Are you accustomed to them yet? And do they make a difference?”
Daisy grunted, and rather than take offence, her grandmère became mischievious.
“They will make a big difference to your learning. Let me guess…at school, always you sit at the back of the class and cannot see the blackboard clearly.” This time Daisy sighed.
“Oh Grandmère, blackboards are like so last century! Next you’ll be thinking we still write on slates like you used to.”
Lorraine looked a little less amused, but before she could say anything, her grandpère stepped in.
“Anyway Daisy, you’ll be sitting at the front from now on.”
“What? But I always sit at the back with Poppy and Chloe. The front row’s for swots.”
“And short-sighted people like you.” Lorraine’s voice was full of double meanings.
“And in any case,” her father added, “if your maths doesn’t improve over the summer, you won’t be in the same form as Poppy and Chloe.” “It costs how much?” Daisy couldn’t believe her ears. Fresh home from work and only a day away from her next pay packet, she’d been pleased when Jonathan had said he’d got a quote for her re-decorating.
“Come and tell me upstairs,” she’d said, glancing around to make sure that no-one else (like Charlie) was within earshot. “But I’d have to stick with this dregsville job for like a year and a half to earn enough to pay someone to do this room for me!”
Jonathan wasn’t altogether unsympathetic – but he did think Daisy needed a bit of a reality check. Why she thought her part-time teenage wages for four weeks would pay a grown man for a week’s work, he didn’t know. And that was before you added on the cost of paint, wallpaper… “Grandpère, I just simply can’t go on with this room.” Daisy was close to tears.
“Have you thought of doing some work on it yourself?” Jonathan asked gently. “You could afford to buy some paint and wallpaper you know. I don’t mind …”
“Helping me? Doing it for me?”
“No,” Jonathan said firmly. “Teaching you how to do it for yourself. Think about it and let me know.” “And I thought things couldn’t get any worse,” Daisy thought, gazing out at the moonlit garden. “Everyone’s talking about Charlie’s nice new clothes, and how good she looks in them, and I’m in last year’s rags. I’m going to have to stick at this job for ever. I’ve got to work at my maths really hard, and I know I can’t do it. And this room’s never going to look good. Ever. No-one will do it for me.” Daisy had come back from work to be greeted by the news that she needed to redo the whole of that day’s maths.
“You are already behind schedule,” her father pointed out. “If you want to have to change forms, say so, and we will stop doing this. Otherwise, go and look carefully at the difference between a plus and a minus sign.”
She hadn’t even bothered to change out of those hateful clothes, or re-do her hair – it was all of a piece with her totally dregsville life anyway. And now here was her grandmère, interrupting her. “Daisy. Answer me this. My Jonathan, he says he will tell you how to improve your room. But you do nothing. My David, he gives up his time with his wife to help you with your mathematics, so that you do not have to lose being with your friends. But you do next to nothing. Explain to me why. Is it that you think you are too important? Or is it that you are too stupid?” That had Daisy up out of her chair and glaring at her grandmère – who remained unmoved.
“Well?” One of her so-french shrugs. “It has to be one or the other. Or have you another reason for doing nothing at all to change the things you so much do not like?” “I haven’t enough money to change this stupid room! You know that! Grandpère must have told you!”
“He told me that you have enough money for paint, wallpaper, sandpaper, paste. And I see that you have two hands. So why, I ask, do you not use them?”
Lorraine paused, and went on a little more gently. “Daisy, who has taught you that you can do nothing for yourself? Why do you so lack the initiative? From where have you learned all this helplessness? You are not a baby, you know.” Then Lorraine left the room, and a still seething Daisy sat back down at her desk.
“It’s not fair. How am I supposed to know how to do things when I’ve never done them before?”
But even to her own ears, this excuse sounded a bit thin. After all, Charlie had learned to ride – and if Charlie could learn something new, surely she could. Grandma H had always said that she was better than Charlie at everything. “You okay about having seen your mother again?”
Jonathan was worried – Matthew’s encounter with his mother hadn’t been an easy one, and in part it had been Jonathan’s doing.
Matthew thought for a while before he answered, carefully doing some of the final preparation of the bodywork.
“Yeah. I got to ask her the questions I’d been saving up for years.”
He paused, and went on working for a while. Jonathan, wisely, said nothing.
“That was – satisfying. Like letting something out. And we stopped her ruining Jacob and Alice’s lives – and probably Luke’s as well. I like Jacob and Alice. And they’ve had enough hurt with their daughter dying.”
He changed the subject. “Did you say you’ve got the car booked in for a paint job?” The conversation became technical after that. The scaffolding was up round the house: the painters were starting the day after tomorrow.
“House and car together,” her grandpère had joked, as his restoration project was taken away to the paint workshop.
Charlie was off out to see Matthew again, and boy, was she glad to be getting away from Daisy! She’d had enough – enough of Daisy’s “I’m better than you, you know,” attitude, enough of Daisy constantly looking down on her and sneering at her. To be fair, Daisy had always been like that, and Charlie had just believed it all – until Matthew had moved to Rowansford, and he and Hanako between them had made her see herself differently. “This really is good. And so much better than being at home.”
“What’s Daisy been up to now?” Matthew knew Charlie was enjoying living with her grandparents – it had to be Daisy who was the fly in the ointment.
“Oh, it’s just her endless comments.” And Charlie began to list them. “Charlie, you don’t have to just put up with this, you know.”
Daisy’s petty and snide comments reminded him too much of his mother and the way she’d always undermined his father.
“Fight back. Give as good as you get. Stand up to her, and she’ll probably crumble. If you keep it really calm and logical, you should be able to get away with it in front of your parents…” Charlie began to listen seriously as Matthew outlined his plans. “You know what,” Chloe said to Poppy thoughtfully. “This sleepover is way more fun without Daisy. For one thing, I don’t have to sleep on the floor! And I don’t know why I didn’t ever tell Daisy it was my turn for the bed this time.”
Poppy sighed. “I feel a bit mean, but I do agree with you.”
Since going on holiday with Chloe’s family, Poppy had seen more of her, going to cheer her on at the regional finals for one thing (she’d come second, up from seventh last year, and had definitely got her place in the squad). And Daisy had been unusually busy all summer – and hadn’t even invited them round to see her new bedroom.
“We seem to talk more – I don’t think Daisy’s very good at listening to other people.” Poppy might be feeling guilty thinking this was nicer without Daisy, but Chloe had no such qualms. She was just wondering why it had taken her so long to realise it, to admit it.
“I like Poppy,” she thought. “She’s really kind, and really friendly. And she fits in so well with my family. And even though she’s got loads of money, she doesn’t look down on me like Daisy does. I don’t think I want Daisy as a friend any more. She doesn’t really know how to be one.” Poppy got off her bed to head to the bathroom one last time before they went to sleep.
“I like it better with Chloe,” she thought. “She doesn’t tease me for being fat, or laugh at me for wishing I looked different. And her family like me too! Chloe’s nice – and I never even noticed that Daisy always had the bed, never took turns to sleep on the floor. I feel mean about that. It wasn’t fair.” Tired from work, cross and fed up, Daisy wandered into the back sitting room in search of someone to moan at. Charlie was in there, playing the piano, and the sight of her in more new clothes did nothing to sweeten Daisy’s mood.
“What’s that horrible racket?”
“The slow movement form Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata,” Charlie replied. “But then I wouldn’t expect you to recognise anything as sophisticated as that. It’s not boy band music.”
Her tone was light, dismissive – Charlie was looking down on her! How dare she? How could she? “Well, I suppose you have to be good at something,” Daisy began – and was going to go smoothly on to one of her criticisms of Charlie’s looks, but Charlie over-rode her.
“I know,” she said sweetly. “I mean it’s not as if I got 87% for my maths exam, while my sister only got 45%. Oh wait! I did get 87% - and she did get 45%. Guess I’m good at more than one thing after all.”
And Charlie smiled at her speechless sister. There was a member of staff on holiday and Daisy had been offered an extra shift – she’d taken it for the money, though she still didn’t like having to work! She paused, on her way out, to look at Charlie’s latest painting: the urge to scribble all over it was strong, but the thought of the likely consequences stopped her. Then she heard Charlie’s voice on the stairs, coming up with Hanako. She couldn’t let Hanako see her looking like this! Even Daisy had to admire Hanako’s sense of style. She nipped hastily into the nearest room. “Okay, I’ll believe you when you say it’s a horse painting for Matthew to give to Bryony. Did you work out what to charge him?”
“I asked Grandmère – and then I asked Matthew to pay me in proper riding lessons, and he pays for those by working for free for a while. No actual money changes hands – it’s all done by bartering!”
Hanako laughed. “Neat. How’s the Great Disastrous Bedroom Saga coming on?”
“That’s the same as ever! Nothing’s happened. Of course.” On the other side of the door, Daisy stiffened in indignation. They were talking about her! If it hadn’t been for the clothes and hairstyle, she’d have stormed straight out there. As it was – she stood still, and Hanako’s voice reached her ears clearly.
“But why doesn’t she do something about it?”
“Daisy? Do something for herself?” Charlie snorted with laughter. “Come off it, Hanako. I don’t think she’s capable of doing anything for herself.”
They moved away, their voices fading, but Daisy caught Hanako’s final words.
“Arrested development. Very sad…” “Hanako! You have come to help us with the garden, while the painters are not here.”
Hanako laughed – she liked Lorraine’s sense of humour.
“I am deeply sorry to be obliged to refuse your kind offer but, alas, Charlie and I have already promised Matthew that we’d all go to the cinema together. And I could not break my word…”
“Eh bien, I shall just have to make do with my husband and son then. Enjoy yourselves, mes enfants!” That was it! Daisy had had enough – enough of everyone thinking that she was no use at anything, just a baby still. She was going to show them all what she could do – she was going to decorate that bedroom herself! And she wasn’t going to ask anyone else for help either – she was going to find out how to do it herself, and then they’d see she wasn’t useless!
First stop was definitely choosing paint and wallpaper – and that sounded like fun. “Honestly,” thought Daisy, as she chatted politely to Mrs Annotto, who lived on their old street, “The whole town really is full of pregnant women!” She didn’t want to tell Charity Annotto what she was shopping for, and was quite pleased when Charity said she had to head home, her feet were killing her!
Daisy was less pleased when, having found some wallpaper she liked, she realised she had no idea how much she needed! She had to go home again, measure the walls, find out the area she wanted to cover – and then traipse back to the shop to buy the paper. “Daisy! How are you? Now that we no longer live in the same street, I hardly ever see you.” Mrs Patel this time – and Daisy had deliberately gone to the old library so as not to bump into anyone else she knew.
“And how is your mother? Is she feeling the heat as much as I am?”
Daisy had to stop and chat politely, when all she wanted to do was to find out just how you decorated a room! And what else she would need apart from wallpaper, and what kind of paint to buy… Eventually, Daisy found the book she wanted and sat down with it, flipping through the pages for the chapter she needed, oblivious of everyone around her. She’d prove to them all that she could do things too! Charlie wasn’t going to be able to look down on her any more.