The Best of Daughters (12 page)

Despite Daisy's misgivings, Bowman started work on the Humberette next day. He worked all morning on the motor and it was all she could do to prevent Ruby from taking him cups of tea at half-hourly intervals. She seemed to have been smitten by his good looks and easy charm, although she denied any attraction
on her part, saying that it was just common decency to make certain that a working man was well treated. When Daisy saw the fourth mug of tea about to be taken outside she put her foot down. ‘No, Ruby. This is ridiculous. We can't afford it for one thing, and for another you spend more time chatting than you do actually working. It's got to stop.'

Ruby tossed her head and made a show of drinking the tea herself. ‘I was just going out for some fresh air.'

‘It's raining,' Daisy said coldly. ‘He'll never get the motorcar back on the road if you keep distracting him.'

Ruby's bottom lip stuck out in an ominous pout but she said nothing and returned to the onerous task of blackleading the range. An atmosphere prevailed in the kitchen for the remainder of the morning. It was the first time that Daisy and Ruby had clashed head on over anything or anyone, and by midday Daisy had had enough of Ruby's sulks. She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Perhaps Bowman would like a cup of tea before he breaks for his lunch,' she suggested tentatively. ‘Would you like to go and ask him?'

Ruby's eyebrows were drawn together in a forbidding scowl as she mopped the quarry-tiled floor. ‘I wouldn't want to be accused of wasting my time or making free with the master's tea, miss.'

‘I thought better of you, and there's no need to take that tone with me, Ruby Flagg.' Daisy whipped off her apron and flung it onto the nearest chair. ‘You've been behaving like a two-year-old all morning.' She made for the scullery door. ‘I'll go, since it's obviously too much to ask of you.' She slammed out of the kitchen. It was
still raining and she regretted the fact that she had not stopped to pick up an umbrella, but she could not lose face by going back indoors. She broke into a run, arriving at the coach house dishevelled and out of breath. Shaking the raindrops from her hair, which had escaped from the chignon at the back of her neck and was curling wildly around her face, she went inside. She could smell cigarette smoke and hear the clink of metal against metal. Bowman was still working on the motor and had his back to her. She strolled over to him, controlling her erratic breathing with difficulty. ‘So you're still here,' she said casually. ‘I thought you would have gone by now.'

He took the hand-rolled cigarette from his lips. ‘Are you checking up on me, miss? There's no need. I'm making a note of my hours.'

She was unused to tradesmen talking back. First it had been Ruby and now Bowman had challenged her authority. There seemed to be a revolution going on in Rainbow's End, and she did not know whether to stamp on it before it escalated or to join the rebels. She had listened to so many lectures on women's rights that she could not in all conscience blame Ruby for standing up for herself, but Bowman was another matter. There was something almost feral about him that was annoying and at the same time exciting. She could not imagine him submitting to anyone in authority. ‘I'm not checking up on you, Mr Bowman. I came to see if you wanted another cup of tea.'

‘You shouldn't be waiting on the likes of me, miss. Where's that girl of yours? She'd be more than happy to oblige, I'm sure.'

‘Ruby is busy.'

He flicked the cigarette end out of the open door onto the wet cobblestones. ‘What are you doing here, miss?'

She recoiled. ‘I beg your pardon?'

He chuckled. ‘Don't look so offended. I mean it as a compliment. What I should have said is that you're too good for Nutley Green.' He glanced at her hands, clasped tightly in front of her. ‘You're a lady. You shouldn't be slaving over a hot stove all day.'

‘I don't think that's any of your business, Mr Bowman.'

He sat back on his haunches, looking up at her. ‘I saw your picture in the papers last year. You were one of them suffragettes and you knocked a copper's helmet off.'

She felt the ready blush rise to her cheeks and she dropped her gaze. ‘I'm not proud of that. I don't believe in violence.'

‘There may be a lot worse things happening soon than smacking a constable on the head with a brolly.'

His serious tone made her raise her eyes to meet his and she saw with a shock that he was in earnest. ‘What do you mean?'

‘It's common knowledge that the Germans are building up their army. They're always talking about it in the pub. Anyway, I don't trust the Kaiser even if he is related to the royal family.'

‘I expect it's just men talking when they've had too much to drink. I'm sure there's no need to worry.'

His serious expression melted into a smile that
made her feel dizzy. He had a way of looking at her that made her pulses race, and he treated her like an equal, which was confusing. He did not seem to realise that there were social barriers designed to keep them in their respective places. ‘I suppose Ruby told you about the episode outside the palace,' she said in a desperate attempt to distance herself from him without being too obvious. ‘She really shouldn't gossip about family matters.'

He rose to his feet, his smile fading. ‘No, she never said a word. Like I said, I read it in the papers. Anyway, it was all over the village. Everyone knows what you did and most of them think the better of you for it.'

Once again he was standing so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his body. It was so unfair. He was not playing by the rules. She took a step backwards. ‘I'd better let you get on.'

‘I'm done for today. I've got to order some spares from Vauxhall and I don't know how long it will take for them to come, so I won't be here for a day or two.' He turned away and began packing his tools in a canvas bag.

‘All right then,' Daisy said lamely. ‘I hope they'll arrive soon. I mean, it's important to get the motor back on the road as quickly as possible.'

He headed for the open doorway. ‘The rain's stopped,' he said, turning to her with a smile. ‘It'll be fine for the church bazaar. There's a dance afterwards in the village hall. Will you be there?'

Taken off guard she shook her head. ‘I don't know. I hadn't considered it.'

‘It won't be what you're used to, but you might enjoy a bit of rustic fun.'

‘You really do think I'm a terrible snob, don't you, Bowman?'

‘Who me, miss? Whatever gave you that idea?'

‘Now you're laughing at me. It's not polite.'

‘I'm sorry for being a bit of a turnip, miss. We simple country folk can't help having straw growing out of our ears.'

She followed him outside, catching hold of his sleeve. ‘You don't know me and you shouldn't pigeon-hole people.'

He met her angry stare with a steady gaze. ‘Ever heard of the pot calling the kettle black? It seems to me, Miss Lennox, that you're as guilty of that as anyone.'

‘How dare you? You're forgetting your—'

‘My place, miss? Is that what you were going to say? You and your fine ideas about equality. Does that just apply to women with a good education and a plum in their mouths?' Looping the canvas bag over the handlebar of his motorcycle he drew her roughly into his arms and kissed her on the lips. He held her for a moment, his eyes boring into hers. ‘You're a woman and a damn pretty one too, if only you'd drop the airs and graces.'

‘You uncouth brute.' She raised her hand to slap his face but he caught her by the wrist.

‘Steady, Miss Lennox. You almost stooped to my level.'

‘Don't ever do that again.' She jerked free from his
grasp, taking a step backwards and glaring at him. She was furious with him and with herself for allowing him to take such liberties.

‘I'm not promising anything. You look even prettier when you're cross.' He mounted his motorcycle. ‘I hope to see you at the dance tonight. It's a do to raise money to repair the church roof. You'd be doing your civic duty, Daisy.' He kick-started the engine and roared off down the lane.

Speechless and still shaking with anger, she took a couple of minutes to calm down before returning to the house. She could hear her mother's voice as she entered through the scullery, and found her in the kitchen interrogating Ruby who looked flushed and flustered.

‘Where have you been?' Gwendoline demanded angrily. ‘Ruby didn't know and I've been waiting for my lunch. You know that I'm supposed to help Lady Pembleton on the cake stall this afternoon, but I've got one of my heads coming on and it's all your fault.'

Ruby sent a sympathetic look in Daisy's direction. ‘Sorry, miss.'

‘Don't apologise to my daughter, Ruby.' Gwendoline edged her out of the way, coming to stand close to Daisy with a martial gleam in her eyes. ‘You know I have to eat at regular intervals or I feel faint. Now I'll have to lie down all afternoon and you will have to stand in for me.' She paused for breath, eyeing her critically. ‘You look a perfect fright, Daisy. Where were you when I needed you?'

‘I was discussing the repairs to the motorcar with
Bowman, Mother. He has to send for spare parts so there will be a delay while he waits for them to arrive.'

Gwendoline raised her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes as if in pain. ‘Stop. I don't want to hear about that wretched vehicle. If only we'd brought our chauffeur to the country instead of that simple girl, none of this would have happened.'

‘Mother, please.' Daisy cast a worried glance at Ruby, who was pulling faces behind Gwendoline's back. Resisting the urge to giggle, Daisy steered her mother towards the doorway. ‘Go and sit in the drawing room, Mother. Give me ten minutes and I'll have your lunch on the table, and then you must lie down. I'll see to everything, so don't worry.'

‘Beatrice has gone to the farm again. She's running wild and it's all because your father didn't keep a close enough eye on his business affairs. This was a terrible move. You'll be gallivanting around with the peasants next.' Gwendoline tottered out of the room.

Daisy closed the door on her, leaning against it and sighing. ‘I'm sorry, Ruby. Mother didn't mean it.'

‘Yes, she did. Don't worry, I know exactly what Madam thinks of me and I can live with that. It's what all toffs think of people what don't speak proper and come from south of the river. I'm used to it.'

‘It's not how I am,' Daisy said firmly. She went to the larder and brought out a bowl of salad and what was left of the boiled ham from last night's dinner. ‘I've just had a lecture from Bowman about being snobbish. You don't think I'm like that, do you, Ruby?'

‘Not always, but it's always going to be a case of
them and us. It's how the world works whether we like it or not.'

Daisy laid the food on the table and went to the dresser to select some plates. ‘Are you going to the dance in the village hall tonight?'

‘I might, miss. If I can have the time off. I ain't promised nothing.'

‘Did Bowman ask you?'

‘He mentioned it, miss. But I never said I would.'

‘You and I will go together, Ruby. I'm tired of staying at home night after night. It might be fun.'

Ruby stared at her in amazement. ‘Are you sure? I mean, it's not going to be what you're used to.'

‘Then it's time I did something new. The world is changing, Ruby, only most people don't seem to realise it.'

Daisy spent the afternoon helping Lady Pendleton on the cake stall. It was the first time that she had taken part in any of the village activities, and she was aware that she was being closely scrutinised by the locals. She knew Mrs Cobb who ran the post office and general store and her daughter, Ada, who served behind the counter. Smith the postman was there with his wife who took in washing. Their two sons were also in attendance, both of them looking slightly bored as they huddled in a corner of the hall smoking cigarettes and eyeing the girls. Jed, the elder, was apprenticed to Boxall, the farrier, and Cyril was the butcher's boy. He was to be seen riding round the village on a rusty bicycle with a large wicker basket in the carrier filled
with packages wrapped in bloodied brown paper. Both Jed and Cyril obviously had a sweet tooth as they bought most of the cakes that Daisy had baked, and Jed wanted to know if she was going to the dance. Ruby had told her that Jed was stepping out with Iris Woods, who worked as a scullery maid at Pendleton Park. Luckily Iris was not around when he approached Daisy, but she appeared later giving Daisy a very old-fashioned look. Her companion, a thin-faced girl with carroty hair who was parlour maid at the manor house, made rude comments about the madeleines that Daisy had baked. Until that moment Daisy had been undecided as to whether or not to attend the dance, but their unfriendly attitude brought out her stubborn streak.

‘Don't take any notice of them,' Lady Pendleton said, having overheard the spiteful comments. ‘Flossie Boxall and Iris are cousins and related to half the village. It's very hard for newcomers to be accepted in Nutley Green, but you're doing very well, Daisy.' She turned away to serve the vicar's wife, who purchased all the madeleines, explaining that they were her husband's favourite. She gave Daisy a vague smile before wandering off to inspect the bring and buy stall.

By the end of the afternoon Daisy felt that her face had set in a rictus grin and her feet were killing her. She helped Lady Pendleton pack up the stall, which did not take long as all the cakes had been sold.

‘Thank you, Daisy,' Lady Pendleton said, patting her hand. ‘You've been a marvellous help. I can see that you're cut out for this sort of thing.'

‘I don't know about that. I seem to have got on the wrong side of some people.' Daisy piled the Pendleton Park china plates into a picnic hamper. ‘I've already been told I don't belong in the country.'