‘I’m afraid I can’t, Tommy.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m not very well. I can’t run and play like you do.’
He traced his finger round the outline of a flower in the figured material. ‘I’ll look after you,’ he offered solemnly.
Wilhelmina did not speak immediately, but when she did her voice was softer than Daisy had ever heard it. ‘Thank you, Tommy. If it was at all possible that would have been lovely but I’m afraid I can’t.’
‘Tilly’s cooked special cakes.’ The child had clearly got over his shyness. Now he smiled up at the old lady, his huge brown eyes taking in the lined face and outrageous wig. ‘An’ she let us clean the bowl.’
‘He means the children finished off the last of the mixture with their fingers, ma’am,’ Daisy said in answer to her mistress’s glance of enquiry.
‘And did that taste good?’ Wilhelmina asked, smiling.
Tommy nodded, his curls dancing.
‘Perhaps you could see to it that Daisy brings me a piece of cake?’
‘Aye, all right.’ Tommy now turned right round, his little head tilted back on his shoulders, before coming back to face Wilhelmina again. ‘I like your house,’ he stated firmly.
‘Thank you, Tommy.’
After that the hour passed quickly, although there was the odd moment of panic on Daisy’s part when Tommy decided to jump off Miss Wilhelmina’s footstool on to the sofa beside the old lady, and another when his small hand reached up to touch the carefully styled curls and waves perched on top of her head.
Tommy had milk and biscuits and more coconut ice, chattering away between mouthfuls just as he would do to Nellie as he looked at the pictures in one or two books Wilhelmina had Daisy bring out, rolling about on the carpet like a puppy, fingers digging curiously into the unaccustomed luxury of the thick pile.
When it was time to go he walked across to the sofa where Wilhelmina was sitting, her face showing exhaustion now, and of his own volition offered his lips for a kiss just as he would do with Nellie. The look on her mistress’s face brought a lump to Daisy’s throat and Tommy, had he but known it, could have got away with anything for the rest of that day.
Daisy took the child up to her room with her while she washed her hands and face and collected her bonnet. He bounced on her bed while she got ready, talking nineteen to the dozen as always, and as she turned round after smoothing her hair into place and looked into his happy little face there were no words adequate to express the love that flooded her body for this small person.
Once downstairs again Daisy made her way to the kitchen with Tommy’s hand in hers. Kitty was coming to the celebrations at Alf’s specific request, and for him the little maid had braved her mother’s wrath. Gladys didn’t hold with such ‘tomfoolery’, something she made clear for the umpteenth time as Daisy walked into the room.
‘It comes to somethin’, aye, it does, when a bit lass can tell the mistress when she wants to work an’ when she don’t.’
Daisy prayed for patience for Tommy’s sake, her voice even as she said, ‘Miss Wilhelmina could have said yes or no to us changing our half-day, Gladys, but she chose to say yes. She is mistress here after all.’
‘Huh!’ Gladys glared at her before fixing her eyes on Tommy. So that was the little lad who was supposed to be Daisy’s brother’s boy? By the look of him he could be three but it was more likely he was four. Her brother’s boy be damned! That child was Daisy’s, she’d bet money on it. Had him just before fortune smiled on her and brought Mr William across her path, likely as not.
‘All Saints Eve is special. All the celebrations would be over if we went tomorrow as usual,’ Kitty piped up as she fixed her straw bonnet in place with a hat pin. Kitty’s hair always acted like a spring with hats otherwise, causing them to fly off her head at the most inopportune moments.
‘Ghosts, goblins and such! I don’t hold with it, not any of it, and I’ll thank you not to fill our Kitty’s silly head with your foolishness, Daisy Appleby.’
Tommy was too young to understand all that was being said but he did know that the fat lady was being nasty to his Daisy. His little face bright red, he let go of Daisy’s hand and took a step towards the cook, his voice shrill as he said, ‘I’ll tell Miss ’Mina of you! I will!’
‘It’s all right, Tommy.’ Daisy whisked him up into her arms, inclining her head at Kitty who now followed her out of the kitchen, her hand over her mouth as she struggled to contain her laughter.
Once outside Daisy whirled Tommy round a few times until the child was screaming with delight, all thoughts of the nasty lady gone, and then she hoisted him on to her back, saying, ‘A piggy home, all right?’
‘Yes, yes.’
They had only gone half a mile before he was fast asleep, and it was a few minutes after this that Kitty said, her tone subdued now, ‘Sooner or later I’m goin’ to have to tell me mam I’m walkin’ out with Alf, aren’t I?’
It wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation over the weeks Kitty and Alf had been courting, and now Daisy said, ‘Kitty, she can’t stop you. You’re a grown woman. Stand up to her and she’ll back down. All bullies do.’
‘Aye, maybe, but it isn’t just what me mam might say so much as . . .’ Kitty stopped.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know how serious he is, that’s the thing, I suppose. If I tell me mam an’ put up with all that’ll follow for nowt . . .’
‘For nowt?’
‘Aye. He might not be thinkin’ permanent, lass, might he?’
Daisy glanced at Kitty’s face and her friend’s expression caused her to say, ‘Alf’s not the sort to lead a lass on, Kitty. He likes you. More than likes you. Everyone can see that. And you’re so good for him. You look up to him and he knows it. He’s sort of grown in stature since you’ve been courting.’
‘Aye, maybe.’ Kitty’s cheek were pink. When she changed the subject Daisy didn’t press the matter but her friend’s anxiety had disturbed her.
They reached the village to see the most enormous bonfire - as yet unlit - on the beach, with a number of children excitedly gathering more driftwood to add to it. Tommy woke up just as they reached the cottage door, and when Tilly’s bairns called to him from the sands went running off to join them, his small face alight with the thrill of it all.
Every bairn knew that come nightfall they all blacked their faces with soot and called themselves guisers, marching round the cottages begging for money or sweetmeats while their mams and grannies prepared a feast to be consumed round the bonfire of roasted chestnuts, special cakes of sugar, cinnamon and sweet herbs, and soused herrings. It was a time when the whole village came together and afterwards many a small person was sick with excitement and too much cake. There would be a torchlight procession all round the village before the bonfire was lit, and then dancing to the accompaniment of a fiddle or two.
As always, Alf was hot on the heels of the two girls, but when he entered the cottage Kitty had to force herself to act naturally. She had loved Alf Hardy almost from the first moment she set eyes on him, even knowing how he felt about Daisy, but it was because she loved him so much that she couldn’t lie to herself. He would always feel something for Daisy, she wasn’t so daft as to think otherwise, but - and here her thoughts clarified - that didn’t matter so long as what he felt for
her
was real enough. And she just wasn’t sure about that. Oh, they had some right good cracks together but there was more to a man-and-woman relationship than larking about. More than love even. There had to be . . . what? Kitty struggled to find the words which would express the feeling she knew to be important. Tenderness, that was it. When a lad felt tender about a lass, and a lass about a lad, it sort of filled any little gaps. Aye, she’d settle for tenderness all right where Alf was concerned and count herself well blessed, even if that was all he ever felt.
He walked straight over to where she was sitting, tweaking an errant curl which was hanging down over her forehead as he said, ‘Lookin’ forward to the jollifications then, lass?’
She smiled back at him, nodding her reply. He always spoke to her first these days and his manner with Daisy was now that of a brother with a younger sister, but . . . Kitty glanced at her friend - slim and beautiful - and then looked down at her own bulkier shape. How did he really feel? She’d have to try and find out because she didn’t think she could go on like this much longer.
‘Aw, come with us. It won’t be the same without you, lass.’
‘Aye, you know how you’ve been looking forward to it.’
‘Don’t you stay on my account, lass, ’cos I’m big enough and ugly enough to look after meself.’
‘You never said a truer word there, Gran!’
‘An’ less of your lip, Tilly Appleby.’
Daisy smiled as she gazed round the faces in front of her - Kitty’s, Alf’s, Tilly’s, her granny’s - but much as she appreciated their concern she had no intention of joining the others for the torchlight procession or the lighting of the bonfire and the dancing. She hadn’t from the moment she and Kitty had talked earlier, and when she had managed to get Alf alone for a moment or two in the kitchen and whisper that Kitty was feeling a bit down, mainly because she wasn’t sure where she stood with him, her decision had been made. Kitty and Alf might feel they had to stay with her if she went outside and it was important they had a chance to be by themselves, something that was hard to come by at the best of times.
She had made her grandmother her excuse, saying she wanted to sit with Nellie. Now she said, ‘Me and Gran will sit and have a glass of your mam’s blackcurrant wine, Alf, and put the world to rights. You’re good at doing that, aren’t you, Gran?’ she added teasingly.
‘Oh, you.’ Nellie wagged her head at her granddaughter, but didn’t add her voice to that of the others and remained quiet when they tried to persuade Daisy to change her mind again. There was something wrong with her lass. Did she regret refusing Alf now he was courting Kitty? But no, it wouldn’t be that. Whatever was wrong, the lass had made her decision about Alf years ago.
‘So?’ The door had barely closed behind the last of them when Nellie spoke. ‘What’s wrong?’
Daisy poured two glasses of Enid’s wine, which had the deserved reputation of having a kick like a mule, before she said, ‘There
is
something I was going to tell you. Miss Wilhelmina had some news from Sir Augustus a few days ago.’
‘Oh, aye?’
‘About William.’
Nellie’s sparse eyebrows rose but she said nothing. She was thinking plenty however. So the young master had finally got betrothed, had he? It had to be something like that.
‘He’s missing.’
‘Missin’?’
Daisy nodded. ‘It could be some sort of mix up, of course, but apparently he’d decided to leave Paris and spend some time in Scotland. When his cousin went to join him there he found William had never arrived. He went to see Sir Augustus to learn if William had contacted his father, and now the cousin and Sir Augustus have gone to Calais to see if anyone there knows anything. According to enquiries his father made before he left for France, William never boarded the ship he was supposed to travel to England on.’
‘An’ this cousin’s got no idea where the lad could be?’
‘He did say . . .’ Daisy hesitated, and then continued, ‘It could be that William changed his mind at the last minute and is staying with friends in France.’
‘Got a lot of friends, has he?’
Daisy shrugged. Reading between the lines of what Sir Augustus had said when he had called to see Miss Wilhelmina just before leaving for France, it appeared quite a few of the ‘friends’ were of the female persuasion. Nevertheless, ridiculous though it was after all she’d told herself over the last three years, she was worried. She couldn’t help it. The possibility that William was lying injured somewhere, or worse, had shown her that all her talk of hating him was nonsense.
‘Aye, well, I’m sure he’s all right, lass. Such as the young master buy themselves out of trouble. Likely he didn’t want everyone to know his business and had something in mind he didn’t want to let on about.’
‘Perhaps.’ Something involving a woman no doubt. Although she’d rather that than her worst fears come true. Which only proved she was as daft as a brush considering the cavalier way William had treated her. Daisy decided to change the subject. ‘How has Tommy been behaving himself? Any more fighting with Tilly’s youngest? Butter wouldn’t have melted in his mouth at the house,’ she added lovingly.