‘Aha! I knew something was going on.’ Hilda advanced on Polly, one arm pointing in a theatrical gesture. ‘Those two –’ here she waved a disparaging hand at Betsy and Emily – ‘are as transparent as glass.’
‘They clearly haven’t got your gift of duplicity, Mother.’ As Polly faced this woman who had, in one way or another, been the bane of her life ever since she could remember, she felt none of the turmoil normally associated with a head-to-head encounter with her mother. Hilda’s vindictiveness regarding Luke, her desire to incriminate him, had finally cut the emotional umbilical cord, and it had happened that day Polly had discovered her mother’s scheming to have Luke arrested. There was nothing left any more.
‘And what does that mean?’
‘You knew your stepbrother cheated my grandparents out of what was rightfully theirs, didn’t you?’ Polly said steadily. And as her mother’s face betrayed her guilt, Polly added quietly, ‘I pray to God there is no part of you in me. I’m leaving, Mother, and Ruth is coming with me. You can call this your home for as long as you live, and I hope playing the mistress brings you pleasure, because that is the only pleasure you will know. There will be no children or grandchildren to alleviate your isolation, no one to love you. Perhaps I ought to feel sorry for you, but in all truthfulness I don’t.’
‘You’re leaving?’ Her mother’s eyes had opened wide. Whatever she had been expecting, it clearly wasn’t this latest development. ‘But . . . the farm . . .’
‘Croft will take care of the running of the farm; he’s been doing it for years anyway whilst Frederick played the gentleman at his club and with his hunt cronies.’
‘Croft!’ It was a snort. ‘You’re mad, girl! Croft’s not capable—’
‘Croft is extremely capable,’ Polly interrupted evenly, ‘and I shall be sending a tutor to the farm every week for the foreseeable future to teach him the elementaries regarding accounts and such. Frederick believed in keeping his workers illiterate where he could; I do not. Croft knows his letters but he needs further instruction, and I intend to see that he – and any of the others who wish to avail themselves of the opportunity – receive it. Croft will report to me on a monthly basis until Alice reaches the age of twenty-one and is able to decide whether she wishes to run the farm herself or sell it. Should anything happen to me before then, Ruth will assume responsibility.’
‘You can’t do this!’
‘Oh yes I can, Mother.’ Hilda was now poised in the doorway as though she was going to fly at her again, but strangely Polly knew no fear or even apprehension. This was a bitter, cruel-natured woman and she was never going to let her intimidate her again. ‘The profits from the farm will be ploughed back into improving conditions, by the way, the first stage of that being new accommodation for Croft and the others.’
The glare Hilda was levelling at her daughter should have killed Polly on the spot, and Polly was aware of the three women behind her moving protectively round her in a little cluster as her mother hissed, ‘And they say whoring doesn’t pay! By, you could teach some of them sorts down by the dockside a thing or two. You’re scum, girl, scum – like your father before you. And I shall pray to God that He’ll bring you to an end like Henry’s, dangling on the end of a rope with your eyes bulging and your tongue hanging out. You and your flyblow with you.’
As Betsy went to spring towards Hilda, Polly stopped her with the flat of her hand without taking her eyes off the contorted face of the woman in front of her. ‘My daughter and I will live long and contented lives with the man I love,’ she said, unable to keep the slight tremor her mother’s venom had produced out of her voice, although her head was high and her back was straight. ‘And we’ll be surrounded by family and friends.’
‘In a miner’s cottage? Huh!’ Hilda ground out through clenched teeth. ‘More fool you. You’ll soon be tired of him, girl.’
‘Goodbye, Mother.’ She would never set foot in this place again. Let Alice do what she wanted with it when she was of an age to come into her inheritance, but she would never come back to Stone Farm, Polly thought, as she turned and walked out of the front door, Ruth just behind her and Betsy and Emily making up the rear.
Croft was waiting at the entrance to the farmyard, and he came hurrying up to them, helping her over the cobbles and up into the seat at the front of the cart before he did the same with Ruth and Alice, and then placed the trunk and portmanteau in the back of it.
‘It will just be a few weeks till I find the right place.’ Polly was bending down to Betsy, who had tears rolling down her face now. ‘And then we’ll all be together for good.’
‘God bless you, lass. God bless you.’
And then the horse was trotting off and Polly straightened in the seat, breathing deeply of the clean summer air as she smiled at Ruth.
She had done it
. She was leaving. Going to a new life, a new beginning.
And then she saw him. Walking down the stony path towards them. A tall, dark figure with his cloth jacket slung over his shoulder and his shirt sleeves rolled up in the brilliant sunshine.
‘Luke . . .’ His name was a whisper on the soft summer breeze, and then, more strongly, ‘Luke, oh, Luke.’
She told Croft to stop the horse and was down from the seat before he could help her, and then she was running and stumbling, and Luke – after one short moment of surprise – was running towards her too, his face expressing concern.
Down the stony path she flew, her heart singing, and as she got nearer, the concern on his face was replaced by anticipation as he saw her glowing countenance. She ran straight into his arms and he lifted her off her feet for a second before saying, ‘What is it? What’s happened? I was on the early shift today so I thought I’d surprise you,’ before he kissed her, careless of the onlookers in the cart.
‘I’ve got so much to tell you, but I was coming to you,’ she said breathlessly as he raised his face from hers, her straw bonnet hanging on the back of her neck by its ribbons round her chin and her russet hair tumbling about her pink cheeks. ‘Me and Alice and Ruth, and later there’ll be Betsy and Emily too.’
He blinked and then laughed, his head going back as he said, ‘Never one to do things by halves, not my Polly Farrow! Not my love.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘Mind?’ He looked down into her azure eyes, stroking back the curls from her forehead as he said, ‘Sweetheart, I’d take the whole world on if it meant I’d have you too. We’ll manage, my love. Somehow we’ll manage.’
She thought of the little bags lying secure in their hidey-hole in the trunk. They wouldn’t have to manage, but that explanation could come later. For now it was enough that he had come for her, that he loved her, that she was his.
‘There’s not another like you in the whole wide world, you know that, don’t you?’ Luke whispered lovingly. ‘But are you sure you want to do this today, so soon after having Alice? Are you sure you don’t want to stay at home a few days more?’
She felt his strong arms around her, her hands resting on the sun-warmed rough cloth of his shirt, through which she could feel the steady beat of his heart, and the past with all its demons melted away. She raised her face to his, her mouth seeking his lips as she whispered, ‘I
am
home.’
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