Authors: Margaret Dickinson
‘What is it, love? What is it you want? Here . . .’ Frank was pulling coins from the depths of his pockets.
‘No, no, mester. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .’ Jenny was flustered with embarrassment now.
‘I know you didn’t, love. I should have thought to give Maddie some spending money before we set out.’ He caught hold of Maddie’s hand, held it palm upwards and tipped
the coins into it.
‘Don’t you go frittering good money away on such things.’ Harriet had overheard the younger girl’s suggestion. ‘A lot of nonsense. Fortune telling.’
Frank glanced towards the darked-haired woman dressed in colourful gypsy costume.
Michael, rejoining them, asked, ‘What’s going on?’
Frank turned to his son. ‘The girls would like to have their fortune told. Harriet doesn’t approve, but I should like to know whether I’m going to become a
millionaire.’
Michael laughed and slapped his father on the back. ‘No chance, Dad, you’ll still be fetching the cows in for milking when you’re a hundred.’
But they all moved towards the Romany woman, who smiled a welcome. Only Harriet Trowbridge seemed reluctant, though she still stood with her arm through Frank’s, close enough to listen to
what was being said but not close enough to be involved. She doesn’t want to miss anything, Maddie thought shrewdly.
‘You stand by me, Nicholas. I won’t have you taking part in such nonsense.’
Scowling, Nick obeyed his mother. So much for rebellion, Maddie thought wryly.
The Romany was much younger than she expected. In Maddie’s imagination all gypsies were old and wrinkled, but this one’s face was unlined, her black hair as shiny as a raven’s
feathers and her dark violet eyes were bright and knowing. Her flowing skirt and shawl were patterned with vivid, colourful scrolls and gold bracelets jangled on her wrists.
‘Isn’t she lovely?’ Jenny whispered.
‘Yes, yes, she is,’ Maddie agreed, admiring the vibrance that was not just in the young woman’s clothes but in her eyes too.
‘How much for all of us?’ Frank asked.
The woman smiled, showing even teeth, brilliantly white against her olive skin. She named a sum and Frank dug deep into his pocket. She took his hand into her own and studied his palm. With long
fingers she traced the lines.
‘You work hard. On the land?’
Frank nodded and Maddie heard Harriet sniff. ‘Should’ve thought that was obvious to anyone.’
Maddie saw the Romany woman flash a quick, hooded glance at Harriet. ‘You have a son . . .’
Harriet’s muttering came again. ‘That’s obvious too, considering he’s standing right beside him and looks the spitting image of him.’
‘One son,’ the gypsy said firmly. ‘And she . . .’ Now she looked fully at Harriet. ‘Is not your wife.’ She turned her brilliant smile upon Frank, ‘Your
housekeeper, maybe?’
‘Why, yes. Yes, she is.’
‘And that . . .’ the gypsy pointed to Nick, ‘is her son, but not yours.’
‘Yes, yes. That’s right.’
‘That doesn’t take a lot of guess work,’ Harriet was scathing now, as if she feared Frank was getting drawn into believing the woman’s powers.
Frank ignored his housekeeper. ‘Go on, love,’ he urged the fortune teller.
‘You are a kind man, but that generosity of spirit is going to lead you to make a great sacrifice to save a loved one. Yet that sacrifice will bring you both happiness and sadness, too. A
mixed blessing.’
Gently she closed Frank’s fingers over his palm and looked deeply into his face. ‘You will not see it as a sacrifice,’ she said gently.
‘Huh,’ came Harriet’s mutter again. ‘Such nonsense.’
The woman turned to Michael. She studied his palm for several moments, until Michael grinned and said casually, ‘Go on, tell me I’m going to die young and all the girls for miles
around will weep at my grave.’
The gypsy did not smile but looked up to meet his gaze. ‘No, you are not going to die the hero. But you are going far away, and though your heart will remain here, you will not return
home. Not for many years. Maybe never.’
‘’Course he’s going away,’ Harriet said. ‘His National Service is coming up next year when he’s eighteen.’
Next the Romany turned to Maddie and Jenny and stood looking at them both, from one to the other and back again, before she picked up Maddie’s hand.
‘You are going to be very successful. Everything you touch will turn to gold. You will have a child . . .’ She paused and frowned. ‘You will know great love but also deep
heartache. Joy and sorrow in equal measure.’
She turned away abruptly, as if not wanting to say more. She took Jenny’s hand then and studied it but let it drop and, turning away without even looking into the young girl’s face,
she said, with almost a sharpness in her tone, ‘You are too young. I do not read the palms of children.’
‘But I’m only a few months younger than Maddie.’ Jenny was disappointed. ‘You read hers.’
The gypsy turned once more and regarded them thoughtfully. Quietly, she said, ‘There are sometimes things it is better not to say. I’m sorry.’
Now she looked towards Harriet and Nick. She made no attempt to take their hands, to do a proper reading. Instead, she pointed towards them. ‘You have great bitterness in your hearts. Both
of you – mother and son. It will cause destruction.’
With that, she turned quickly away and walked back towards the fairground.
‘Well!’ Harriet was indignant. ‘If ever there was a waste of good money, Mr Frank, then that was it. I’m surprised at you.’
But Frank was staring after the gypsy, lost in thought.
Back home, Michael insisted on showing Jenny all round the farm. As Maddie began to follow them out of the back door she heard the housekeeper’s voice. ‘You can
help me set the tea, girl. And then you’d better get set into the milking.’
Harriet put her white apron around her waist, twisting the ties to form a bow behind her back with an angry movement. ‘All this gallivanting. I don’t know,’ she muttered.
‘And work here not getting done.’
Maddie cast a disappointed look across the yard to see Michael waving his arms, gesturing towards the barn, the crewyard and the hen-house, whilst Jenny trotted beside him. Sighing, she went
into the kitchen to help set the table for tea.
Later, as they were finishing the meal, Jenny said, ‘Can I stay and watch you milk the cows?’
Frank glanced at the clock above the mantelpiece. ‘Well, I did promise to have you back home before dark, but you’ve time enough to see the start and then Michael can run you home in
the car.’
Jenny’s eyes widened. ‘Can you drive?’
Michael nodded and his father went on, ‘Everyone on a farm ought to be able to drive. Nick can too, but he’s not old enough yet to drive on the road.’ He glanced towards
Harriet and smiled, ‘The only person I haven’t been able to persuade to get behind the wheel is Mrs Trowbridge.’
‘Shall you teach Maddie when she’s old enough?’
‘Oh yes,’ Frank said, and Maddie felt a warm glow, but her growing confidence in belonging somewhere at last was cut short as she heard Harriet’s familiar sniff followed by the
words, ‘That’s if she’s here that long.’
‘You go with Michael to take Jenny home,’ Frank said, as dusk crept across the fields. ‘Nick and I can manage the rest and Ben can take the cows back to the
field.’
Maddie straightened up and carefully moved the bucket of milk. ‘If you’re sure, Mr Frank?’ Then she turned towards the boy. ‘Thanks, Nick.’
For a moment he looked a little sullen at being left out of the car ride, but then he smiled, perhaps remembering, Maddie thought, her offer to clean out the hen-house so that he could tinker
with the car’s engine – a kind gesture that had almost resulted in her missing the day out all together. His next words confirmed it.
‘We’re quits now, then.’
Maddie grinned and nodded and then hurried to change out of her Wellingtons.
In the yard, Jenny was playing with Ben, throwing a stick for the excited young dog to fetch and carry back to her. ‘Isn’t he lovely, Maddie? I wish there was a dog at the
Home.’
‘Maybe there’ll be a dog where you go to live when you leave there.’
The girl’s face sobered. ‘I reckon the only job I’ll get is at the Home. Peggy, one of the kitchen maids, is leaving to get married. Mrs Potter did say that if she can’t
fix me up, she’ll give me a try.’
‘Oh no,’ Maddie cried. ‘Don’t stay there all your life, Jen. Get out. Do anything rather than stay locked up in that place.’
‘I would, but nobody else seems to want me.’
‘You’ll find something.’ Maddie put her arm around the younger girl’s thin shoulders and hoped she sounded more convincing than she actually felt. ‘I’m sure
you will. Why, look at me. Mrs Potter thought nobody would ever take me off her hands.’
Jenny smiled. ‘Yes, you’ve been lucky. They’re so kind to you. That Mrs Trowbridge is a bit sharp, but I expect that’s just her way.’
Not for the first time in their young lives, Maddie marvelled at Jenny’s placid nature, at her acceptance of what life handed her. Despite being abandoned by her mother and not even
knowing who she was, despite living under the strict regime of the Home, despite being small, being picked on and teased by the majority of the other girls, little Jenny Wren rarely said an unkind
word about anyone. It was as if she thought it was she who was at fault and deserved the treatment she received.
‘Don’t make excuses for her, Jen. She’s a bad tempered old beezum . . .’ Jenny giggled as Maddie grinned herself and added, ‘But meeting Michael has made up for
anything she can throw at me. I can handle her. What was it Brer Rabbit used to say?’
The two girls, who had often sat huddled together to read their favourite stories, now repeated the words together. ‘ “Born and bred in a briar patch, Brer Fox. Born and bred in a
briar patch.” ’
Jenny was thoughtful. ‘I know what you mean, but Mrs Potter does have a nice side to her. I’m not sure that Mrs Trowbridge has. She seems – well – spiteful,
somehow.’
Maddie stared at her friend. To most people Jenny Wren appeared to be childish for her age and weak, but every now and again she surprised even Maddie with her shrewd observations.
‘You’ve hit the nail on the head, Jen. That’s just what she is. Spiteful.’
Jen sighed. ‘Like some of the girls at the Home. And I’ve got to go back to them.’
Maddie hugged her. ‘Not for much longer. You’ll get a job and get out of there. You’ll see.’
‘Come on then, you two,’ Michael was calling. ‘It’ll be dark soon and I don’t want someone waving a big stick at me when I pull up outside the Home.’
The two girls sat in the back of the car, laughing and chattering, the doll between them, but as the car drew nearer and nearer to the Mayfield Home, Jenny fell silent, her face pale, the joy
dying in her eyes.
‘Oh Maddie,’ she said flinging herself against her. ‘I’ve had such a lovely day. I don’t want to go back.’
Maddie hugged her. ‘Come on, Jen, chin up. It’ll not be for long. Look . . .’ She picked up the doll and put it into Jenny’s arms. ‘You take her.’
‘Oh no, no, the others’ll take her off me.’
‘No they won’t. Stand up to ’em, if they do.’
‘I – I can’t. You know I can’t.’ The whimper was back in the girl’s voice.
Maddie grinned. ‘Then let me know and I’ll come back and sort them out. I won’t let anyone take her off you. You keep her to remember the day.’
‘Oh I don’t need anything to remind me of today,’ Jenny breathed and she was smiling again, if a little tremulously. But she hugged the doll to her. ‘Thank you, Maddie.
I’m going to call her Miss Amelia after that pretty lady we saw in the back of Sir Peter’s car today.’
When Michael drew the car to a halt outside the front door, there was no one in sight. He got out of the car and held open the door for Jenny to clamber out.
‘I hope you don’t get into trouble. We’re a bit later than we should have been.’
‘It’ll have been worth it even if I do,’ Jenny smiled up at him.
As Maddie watched, Michael drew a small parcel from his jacket pocket. ‘Here, I’m sorry I couldn’t win a doll for you, but I got you this to make up for it a bit.’
Jenny pulled in a breath of surprise. ‘For me? Oh thank you, thank you.’
‘You don’t even know what it is yet. You might not like it.’
‘Oh I will. I will like it – whatever it is,’ the girl said fervently, clutching the brown paper bag to her chest along with the doll. Then she turned and bent her head to look
into the car once more. ‘’Bye, Maddie.’
‘’Bye, Jen.’ Now, Maddie had to force a smile on to her mouth. ‘See you soon.’
As she ran up the steps and reached the top, Jenny turned to wave before disappearing behind the heavy front door.
‘Come and sit in the front with me, now,’ Michael said as he climbed in behind the wheel.
She did as he suggested but she did not look at him or speak to him. They had travelled about half the distance between the Home and Few Farm when he said, ‘What’s the
matter?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Yes, there is. Are you sad to see her go back to – that place?’
‘Yes.’ She was, but it was not the reason she was sitting so silently beside him.
‘She’ll soon be able to leave, won’t she?’
‘September.’
‘Well then?’
Maddie said nothing.
‘It’s more than that, isn’t it?’
Still she did not reply.
‘Ah. I know. You didn’t like me giving her a present.’
‘Of course I didn’t mind that,’ she answered quickly. Too quickly.
He took one hand from the steering wheel and reached out to touch her hand, squeezing it for a brief moment. His touch was warm and sent a shiver through her whole being. ‘I only gave the
poor kid a bottle of shampoo. Like I got for you.’
That was just it, Maddie thought. Like you got for me. She swallowed the lump in her throat and felt angry with herself. How can you be so selfish? she told herself sternly. And over poor little
Jen too.
‘That was kind of you,’ she said and hoped he didn’t notice the tremble in her voice. ‘She’ll love it – as long as the other girls don’t take it off
her.’