The Tulip Girl (4 page)

Jenny squeaked and buried her face against Maddie, who put her arm about the girl. ‘Come on, we’re going. Mrs Potter’ll miss us.’ As she began to lead Jenny from the
clearing, she glanced at the boy and grinned. ‘I tell you what, Stinky. You tell a good story.’

The boy swaggered as he followed them, saying, ‘T’aint no story. It’s all true.’

‘Yeah,’ Maddie said sarcastically, but she was smiling as she said it. All the same, as they left the clearing and plunged back into the gloom beneath the trees, she glanced back to
take a last look at the heart-shaped bed of tulips, shining golden in a ray of sunlight that streamed in through the trees.

Maybe, she thought, his sweetheart, Amelia Mayfield, had planted the flowers near where her love had died.

Maddie was still thinking of her little friend, Jenny, as she went down the stairs and presented herself to Harriet in the kitchen.

‘There you are at last, girl,’ was the housekeeper’s greeting. Maddie felt her glance assessing her.

‘Why are you dressed in your gymslip and blouse? You aren’t going to school any more, y’know.’

Maddie felt an angry flush creep up her face. Her eyes glittered and her mouth tightened. ‘I haven’t any more clothes. Only me Sunday best and I’m not wearing that to work
in.’

The ‘out of school’ skirt and jumper that she had worn at the Home had been far too small for her and almost worn out.

‘You can’t possibly take these with you,’ Mrs Potter had declared, holding up the jumper, shrunken and matted from constant washing in water that was far too hot.
‘What’ll they think?’ she had muttered, shoving the offending garments into the rag-bag. So all Maddie had been able to bring with her was her school uniform and the navy
dress.

Neither of them had heard Frank Brackenbury approach until, from the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, he said, ‘Then we’ll have to get you some suitable work clothes,
lass, won’t we?’

Maddie spun round and gave him a beaming smile. Politely, she said, ‘That would be very kind of you, Mr Brackenbury.’

‘Mrs Trowbridge can take you into the town tomorrow. It’s market day.’ He lifted his head slightly and looked beyond Maddie. ‘You wouldn’t mind going for once,
Harriet, would you? You needn’t stay long.’ Without waiting for an answer he looked down again at Maddie. He chuckled and his dark eyes twinkled. ‘And Mr Brackenbury is such a
mouthful. Call me “Mr Frank” like everyone else does.’

Behind her, the woman said nothing, but Maddie heard her sniff of disapproval. The girl stood waiting, unsure what she was supposed to do. Without even glancing at Maddie again, Harriet, her
mouth tight, moved between the pantry and the cooker where a huge black frying pan of bacon, fried bread and eggs sizzled.

As if sensing her uncertainty, Frank said, ‘Do you want her to help you, Harriet?’

‘No, she’ll only get under me feet. She’d best start learning what she’s come for. The milking.’

‘Right you are, then.’ Again he looked down at Maddie and frowned thoughtfully. ‘We’ll have to find you summat to wear for today, lass. Them clothes aren’t suitable
for the cowshed. Come on, let’s have a look-see what we can find.’

He led the way into the wash-house and searched amongst the clothes hanging from the line of pegs.

‘Ah,’ he said with sudden satisfaction. ‘Here we are. I thought I remembered seeing these still here . . .’ From the peg the man pulled a pair of khaki dungarees and held
them out towards Maddie. ‘The Land Army girls we had in the War used to wear these. They’ll be a bit big for you, but you can tuck them into your boots. There’s a pair of rubber
boots here that should fit you. An old pair of Nick’s. Oh, and there’s a pair of socks here too. They’ll keep you warm and help to fill the boots a bit.’ He smiled at her as
he held out the trousers and set the boots on the floor in front of her.

Maddie took the pair of trousers with the bib and crossover braces and pulled them on, tucking her gymslip inside them.

‘Now, roll the legs up to your ankles and then put the socks on over them . . .’ the man suggested, holding out his hand to steady her as she thrust her feet into the boots.

‘There now,’ he said, surveying her. ‘Not bad. Not bad at all. A bit big on you, but you’ll do. You’ll need a jacket, though.’ Again he searched.
‘This’ll do. It’ll swamp you, but it’ll be warm.’ He held it out for her and she slipped her arms into it. ‘Right. Now we’d best be on our way or my poor
beast’ll be bursting their udders.’

As they stepped into the yard, Frank gave a piercing whistle and the black and white dog came racing round a corner to hurl itself against him. Then the excited animal bounded towards Maddie,
jumping up at her.

‘He won’t hurt you,’ Frank said swiftly. ‘He’s only young and a bit boisterous, that’s all.’

Maddie laughed as the dog leapt even higher and she felt his tongue against her cheek. ‘He’s lovely. What’s his name?’

‘Ben.’

At the sound of his master’s voice, Ben paused to look round enquiringly, but hearing no further command, he carried on leaping and bounding around the young stranger.

Maddie summoned up her sternest voice, pointed to the ground and said firmly, ‘Down, Ben.’

The dog gave a bark but then dropped to the ground, looking up at her with soulful brown eyes.

‘Well, I never did,’ Frank Brackenbury laughed. ‘You’ve certainly got a way with him, young’un. Are you any good with cows?’

Maddie smiled up at him. ‘I don’t know, mester. I’ve never tried.’

‘Well, lass, now’s your chance.’

They walked down the lane, side by side, Frank with easy strides, Maddie clumping along in her oversized boots, trying desperately to keep pace with him. Ben ran ahead, pausing
every so often to investigate an intriguing smell in the hedgerow.

It was a bright April morning, sharp, but promising warmth later in the day.

‘Where are we going?’ Maddie asked.

‘To fetch the cows in for milking.’

Ahead of them she saw a meadow where six or seven cows stood herded together near the gate. Two stood close to the gate, their great heads over the top of it looking up the lane.

‘They’re bigger than I thought,’ Maddie murmured, ‘close to.’ But still she went forward, undaunted, to try to pat the nose of the nearest beast, but it stepped
backwards.

She felt the man watching her and turned to meet his gaze. He smiled and gave a little nod. ‘I’m glad to see you’re not frightened of them, lass.’ He chuckled, a low
sound seeming to come from deep inside him. ‘But they’re a bit wary of you, ’til they get used to you. One of the Land Army girls was frightened to death of them. I never did get
to teach her how to milk all the time she was here.’

He opened the gate and the cows meandered into the lane, turning towards the farm.

Maddie laughed, her voice clear and ringing in the early morning air. ‘They know the way.’

‘’Course they do. They travel the same bit of road night and morning. They should do by now.’

Maddie glanced back into the field and saw, at the far end near a hedge, two cows still grazing contentedly.

‘What about those two?’

Frank’s smile broadened. ‘Lazy pair. We’ll have to fetch them.’

Maddie looked back towards the lane where the small herd were wandering towards the farmyard with Ben, now wholly committed to his task, barking at their heels.

‘Do they go into the cowshed all by themselves then?’

‘More or less,’ he answered, as they began to walk across the grass towards the two dawdlers. ‘But Michael and Nick are there finishing off the first lot.’

‘The first lot?’ The girl was surprised. ‘You mean you’ve more than just these?’

‘Oh yes. We’ve fifteen milkers and then some beast for beef.’

‘Goodness.’

‘We supply all the village with milk and even Mayfield Park.’

‘Sir Peter?’

The man glanced at her. ‘Aye, his household and all the folks who live on his estate.’ He waved his arm to encompass all the land around them. ‘This is all his. We only rent it
to farm, y’see.’

‘Oh.’ Maddie was silent. Then she blurted out suddenly, ‘He owned the orphanage, too.’ She looked at the man walking beside her and, with a maturity far exceeding her
years, added quietly, ‘It seems Sir Peter Mayfield rules a lot of people’s lives.’

‘Aye,’ Frank nodded. ‘Aye, you could say that lass. He’s a local magistrate an’ all. He certainly rules the lives of anyone who dares to be brought up in front of
him.’ He gave a wry laugh and the young girl wondered fleetingly if he had ever had cause to stand in the dock in front of Sir Peter. She glanced at him again, doubting her own thoughts. Mr
Frank seemed a kindly, God-fearing man. She couldn’t imagine him ever doing anything against the law.

They reached the cows who raised their heads, chewing sorrowfully.

‘I don’t think they want to be milked,’ Maddie laughed.

‘They’re not so bothered as some of the others.’ He pointed to their udders. ‘Their milk yield’s declining now. See?’

Maddie looked and saw that their udders were not so swollen as some of those already on their way to the farmyard.

‘We only milk them once a day now. Just in a morning.’ He slapped the nearest one on the rump and slowly it began to move reluctantly towards the gate, still chewing as it went.

Maddie was about to follow when she suddenly caught sight of a flash of colour from beyond the hedge. Standing on tiptoes, she peered over into the next field and what she saw made her gasp with
amazement and delight.

‘Oh! Oh look. Just look,’ she exclaimed, quite forgetting that the man with her must have seen the sight many times and be quite used to it.

Beyond the hedge stretched a field of tulips. They were planted in blocks of six rows and each block was a different colour, from pastel pink through red and yellow to dark purple, rippling and
swaying in the early morning breeze.

‘Isn’t that the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen?’ the young girl murmured, enraptured and enthralled. ‘It’s like a rainbow. Except,’ she added,
‘that it’s straight.’

He came and stood beside her. ‘Well, you’d best enjoy it, lass, ’cos they don’t last long. They’ll be cutting the heads off soon.’

Maddie turned wide eyes to look up at him. ‘Why?’

‘They grow them for the bulbs, you see, and part of making the bulbs mature is to remove just the heads so that a lot of the goodness from the plant goes back into the bulb and makes it
grow bigger.’

‘It’s a shame, though,’ Maddie said, understanding the need but bemoaning the destruction of the pretty flowers.

Reluctantly, she turned to follow him back down the field, dragging her gaze away from the multicoloured carpet of flowers that stretched into the distance as far as she could see.

Then she skipped after the farmer, filled with a sudden happiness such as she had never felt before.

‘Now, you’ll have to sit close up, ’cos you’re only little.’ Michael was laughing down at her but his teasing was not cruel. ‘We’ll
start you on Betsy. She’s a soft old thing and she’ll stand good as gold whilst you milk her, won’t you, old girl?’

The cow, tethered to the wall, flicked her tail but munched contentedly on the hay in the heck level with her nose.

‘Sit on this little stool, put your head against her belly and reach underneath. Then, very gently, squeeze her teats. Like this, see.’ The young man squatted down and Maddie watched
as he squeezed and pulled and the milk squirted into the bucket beneath.

He stood up again. ‘Right, now you have a go.’

A shadow appeared in the doorway and Maddie looked up to see Nick carrying two empty buckets and moving towards the next stall. ‘She’ll never manage it,’ he said.
‘She’ll have to kneel underneath Betsy to reach her udders.’

‘Tek no notice of him,’ Michael grinned good-naturedly. ‘He’s only jealous ’cos he’d like to be the one teaching you, ’stead of me.’

Nick gave a wry snort and then nodded towards Maddie. ‘You want to watch him. He’s a bugger with the girls.’

Now Michael frowned. ‘Less of that sort of language in front of her.’

Nick smirked and tugged his forelock in mock obedience. ‘Right you are, sir. Sorry, I’m sure, sir.’

Maddie sat down on the low, three-legged stool and rested her forehead against the cow.

‘I think you’d do better if you rest your cheek against her with your shoulder sort of almost underneath,’ Michael advised. ‘You might be able to reach a bit further that
way.’

‘But I can’t see what I’m doing then.’

Michael chuckled and winked. ‘You’ll have to feel your way, love.’

As Maddie giggled at his cheeky remark, she heard Nick clash the buckets together and Betsy moved restlessly at the sudden noise, jerking her back leg sideways and pushing Maddie off the stool
so that she fell backwards onto the cobbled floor of the cowshed.

‘Now look what you’ve done,’ Michael shouted at Nick as he stooped to offer a helping hand to her.

‘What’s going on?’ Frank stood in the doorway and then, as he glanced from his son towards the figure of Nick making his way along the line of tethered cows to the far end of
the cowshed, he gave a quick, irritated shake of his head. ‘Oh, you two at it again, are you? Give it a rest, Michael, and show this lass what to do.’

‘I was doing,’ Michael muttered. ‘If others’d leave us alone.’

But Maddie noticed that he kept his voice so low that his father could not hear his words. Only she, close to him, heard.

‘Now the milking’s done, Nick,’ Frank said, ‘we’ll show Maddie around. Where we’re standing, lass, is the crew-yard and besides the cowshed
. . .’ Frank gestured towards the buildings on two sides of the yard, ‘there’s Rajah’s stable in the corner and then pigsties down that side. We’ve only two pigs just
now. Then, in that far corner, is the boiler house. We use it in winter to heat the hen-house. That’s that long building over yonder.’ He pointed beyond the yard. ‘Come on,
I’ll show you my battery house, but you must never . . .’ for a moment his expression was stern, ‘go inside it. I’m only just teaching Michael how it all works.’ His
expression lightened a little. ‘I’ve promised Nick that I’ll show him too, when he’s older.’ Now Frank smiled. ‘But even he’s banned at the
moment.’