Born to Trouble (43 page)

‘We’ll visit each other.’ She turned to him reassuringly. ‘It’s not too far away.’

Christopher must have seen them approaching because long before they reached the farm he was waving and running along the road to greet them. ‘He’s actin’ like a lad still wet behind the ears,’ Seth said, shaking his head, although Pearl had the feeling her brother was pleased, nonetheless.

‘I’ve been looking for you every day.’ As they reached him, Christopher held out his arms and Pearl jumped down into them. ‘Even in the thick snow when I knew it was impossible I still hoped.’ He swung her round and round until she was dizzy and then kissed her thoroughly. ‘Why didn’t we say April instead of the beginning of May? I won’t last another four weeks.’

‘You’ll have to.’ Laughing, they followed the trap to the farm, arm-in-arm.

Pearl fell in love with the farm and wasn’t even slightly daunted by the farmhouse, immediately seeing in her mind’s eye how their home would look once the alterations were done. Christopher proudly showed them how he and his men had routed water into the farmhouse from the stream by means of pipes and a pump, insisting Pearl and Seth both took a turn pressing the handle of the pump so water spurted into the deep stone sink. ‘I intend to have a well dug at some point too, but that’ll be in the future, once the house is done.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Pearl said, and she meant it. She knew the lot of a farmer’s wife wasn’t an easy one but it was satisfying and she had never been afraid of hard work or long hours. They would work together to build a good life for them and their bairns. Bairns . . . Her heart leaped and raced. Christopher’s babies.

By the time she and Seth had to leave, Pearl had met the farm hands and their wives, seen every inch of the farm and even taken a turn feeding an orphan lamb Mabel had ensconced by her fireside. She was tired but contented as she left Christopher, the two of them clinging together until Seth lost patience and bodily lifted her up into the trap. The next time she would see him would be on their wedding day, just under four weeks away. She hugged the thought to her as the farm and his distant figure were lost to sight and she turned to face the front.

‘We should have left a couple of hours ago. It’ll be long since dark by the time we get home,’ Seth worried as they bowled along.

‘It’s all right, it’s a fine night.’

‘Aye, but it’ll be bitter once the sun’s down.’

‘Nessie’ll warm you up once you get home.’

‘Pearl!’ Seth’s voice expressed shock and Pearl giggled.

She was feeling more at peace than she had since the New Year. Seeing the farm and what her new life was going to be like, and the hours with Christopher, had been satisfying. She would never forget James and Patrick. They would always be close to her, carried in her heart along with Fred and Walter. But starting afresh like this, away from Sunderland and all its memories, she could remember the good times more easily and not dwell on the bitter ‘what-ifs’.

Dusk was falling and birdsong was filling the air as they approached Morpeth. The road split here. One way led to the outskirts of Newcastle and then the town itself, while the other veered right towards the coast, leading to Tynemouth and South Shields and then Sunderland. It was as they reached the fork in the road that Pearl glimpsed the blue smoke curling up amongst the trees in the distance. Her heart seemed to stop beating and then resumed at a furious pace. She recognised those thin wisps spiralling into the evening sky.

‘Seth, stop.’ As her brother went to steer the horse towards the right, Pearl clutched his arm.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘There’s something I need to do. The smoke . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘Seth, I think that smoke is from campfires, gypsy campfires.’

His eyes followed her pointing finger. ‘Oh no, lass.’ He turned to her, his face grim. ‘If you’re thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’ . . .’

‘Please, Seth.’

‘Why, Pearl? You said yourself the past is just history. It’s turned out all right, you’ve got Christopher.’

‘I can’t tell you why, I just need to see if it’s them. It might not be.’

‘This is foolishness. There was bad feeling when you left and there’s only the two of us.’

‘They wouldn’t hurt us,’ she said softly.

‘Oh aye? Tell that to Christopher. He still bears the marks of what that man did to him, and will do till the day he dies.’

‘But it saved him. He didn’t have to go away to fight.’

‘That’s warped thinking and you know it. Your gypsy friend meant to do for him.’ Seth turned her to him, his hands tight on her forearms. ‘They live by their own rules, you told me so yourself. And the old grandmother, the one who told Christopher you’d drowned, what do you think she’d do if you turn up all bright eyed and bushy tailed?’

Halimena. It always came back to Halimena. Seth would never understand in a hundred years and she wasn’t sure if she understood herself, but Halimena was the reason she had to see if it was ‘her’ gypsies making camp a mile or so away. And it could be. This was their territory, come the spring. ‘I have to go.’ She pulled herself free. ‘With you or without you, Seth, I have to go and see.’

He swore succinctly. After sitting undecided for a moment or two he turned the horse and trap to follow the left fork.

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me. This has all the makings of a disaster and I must be doolally.’

They heard the camp before they saw it. The gypsies were en route, Pearl thought to herself. It was always pandemonium when they stopped en route, especially for the women who had the children to see to as well as the evening meal. As they drew closer they caught sight of the camp in a pasture of several acres. It was a sea of caravans of all shapes and sizes, along with Romany, beehive and old Army belltents.The lithe figures of women and children and men with brown faces and black hats and shirts were everywhere, along with lurcher dogs and horses of all kinds. The noise, and the smell from the great black pots hung over the fires were all so familiar that for a moment Pearl felt she had come home.

‘Well?’ Seth growled at her side.

‘I don’t know, I can’t tell if it’s them. We need to go nearer.

Muttering under his breath, Seth drove the horse and trap close to the hedges bordering the pastureland and then stopped. Pearl’s heart was in her mouth. Likely the gypsies had been coming back to their site near Newcastle every year since she had been in Sunderland; these things were handed down from generation to generation and didn’t change. They might approach from a different direction or be late or early by a few weeks, but that was all.

She climbed down from the trap and walked to the open gate which led into the pasture, and almost immediately saw a face she recognised. It was Naomi, one of Freda’s friends, and she had a couple of black-eyed children about her skirts. As Naomi saw her she stopped dead, the bundle of twigs and wood she had been carrying dropping from her fingers. Reaching for the children’s hands, she turned and disappeared into the mêlée.

Pearl had been about to speak but now she didn’t know what to do. Turning to Seth, she said, ‘It is them, Seth. I know that woman.’

‘Aye, and she knew you an’ all by the way she skedaddled,’ he said drily. ‘So, what do you want to do? Are we going to find the family who took you in?’

By now several more of the gypsies had become aware of their presence and had stopped what they were doing to stare. Pearl felt uneasy. Perhaps it had been foolish for the pair of them to come unannounced to the camp, especially in view of the way she had parted company with the tribe. Nevertheless, she felt this had happened for a purpose somehow, like the last link in a chain. Or perhaps it was just that Halimena had been playing on her mind since she and Christopher had found each other again. Or – and the unease deepened – was it possible that Byron’s grandmother had summoned her to the camp this evening?

She was about to turn to Seth and suggest they leave when a tall aristocratic figure emerged from the crowd. Pearl stared at Corinda. It had been ten years, but Byron’s mother didn’t look any different. Pearl felt her face burn. The whole camp had become silent and Seth was as tense as a coiled spring beside her. Corinda came right up to them, her eyes fixed on Pearl. When she spoke, her voice was low.

‘I knew you would come one day.’

Pearl licked her dry lips. ‘I saw the smoke and wondered if it might be you.’

Corinda nodded. ‘You look well.’

‘I am well. And you?’

Instead of answering this, Corinda looked at Seth. Her gaze returning to Pearl, she said, ‘He knows you lived with us?’

‘Yes, he knows it all.’ She had to ask. ‘How is Byron?’ It was a moment before Corinda replied. ‘He is happy. He married my cousin’s daughter and they have three fine boys. He never went back to the horse trading after leaving here but he has become very skilled at cabinet-making and such things. I understand from my cousin that his goods are much in demand wherever they go. Yes, he is content.’

‘I’m glad.’ She hadn’t realised until this moment how much Byron had weighed on her conscience, whatever she had said to the contrary to Christopher.

‘And you have found happiness?’ Again Corinda glanced at Seth. Pearl realised Byron’s mother thought they were a couple.

She was about to explain when Seth said, ‘I think she is very happy, isn’t that right, Pearl?’ as he pressed her hand warningly. Pearl was startled for a moment but then saw the wisdom of leaving things as they were. If she said Seth was her brother and that she was about to marry someone else, awkward questions might follow. It would hardly be tactful to inform Byron’s mother that she was marrying the man who’d been instrumental in Byron fleeing his family.

She nodded. ‘Yes, I’m happy.’

‘If we’re not going to make the whole journey in pitch blackness we need to leave, Pearl.’ Again Seth pressed her hand.
So far, so good,
his touch said.
Don’t push your luck.

She nodded again, but instead of making her goodbyes, said, ‘I’m sorry for everything that happened, Corinda. Byron saved my life when he found me that day and I’m grateful for the way you took me in. I never wanted to hurt anyone. That was the last thing I wanted.’

Corinda hesitated only a moment. Then she sighed. ‘What is done, is done, and I see now you weren’t altogether to blame. When all the facts emerged, I came to realise that Mackensie’s mother played her part too. She was a . . . difficult woman at times.’

‘Was?’ Pearl found she was holding her breath.

‘Halimena died just after Christmas.’

Pearl knew she ought to offer her condolences but she couldn’t. She and Corinda looked at each other, their shared glance holding for a long moment. Then Corinda turned to Seth. ‘You need to get home,’ she said quietly.

Pearl wanted to thank this woman who had treated her as one of her own while she lived with them. Watching Corinda, she had understood what real motherhood was all about. The words hovered on her tongue but in the end all she said was, ‘Goodbye. I’m glad we’ve seen each other again.’

Corinda looked deep into her eyes again and then smiled one of her rare smiles. ‘I, too, am glad,’ she said simply, before turning and melting away into the camp.

‘Now can we get the hell out of here?’ Seth still had hold of her hand and pulled her none too gently back up on the horse and trap. It had turned out better than he’d feared, but he wouldn’t trust them gypsies as far as he could throw them, whatever Pearl said. Gave him the willies, they did, the lot of ’em.

Seth only breathed a sigh of relief once the sounds of the camp were lost behind them. Pearl had gone very quiet by his side. He glanced at her. ‘All right, lass? Has it upset you?’

‘No, it hasn’t upset me.’ She just couldn’t take in that the evil old woman was dead. Somehow, she had imagined Halimena being immortal, there had been such a strong life-force in her. She had lived under that woman’s shadow for years even though she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. Now there was a lightness in her, as though something had lifted.

Had Halimena dying just days before Christopher came to find her released him in some way? And then she chided herself for the fanciful thought. She mustn’t credit Halimena with powers she’d never had. It was a coincidence, that was all. They happened all the time, life was full of them. And in one way it didn’t matter. Halimena was dead and she and Christopher were alive. Against all the odds they’d found each other, and nothing would separate them now. For the first time since she had seen him again she really believed it.

She lifted her face to the darkening sky that was ablaze with colour as though all nature had conspired to herald the moment. She felt giddy, drunk with relief as her spirit soared and rose on the wings of the night, and as she gazed upwards, the magnificent shape of a large barn owl flew straight across her vision, its pure white breast and richly covered brown and grey feathers clearly visible.

Pearl caught hold of Seth’s arm and together they watched as the powerful bird circled once above them. Shrieking its supremacy, it swooped down so low she could see the beautiful tawny eyes gazing straight at her as though it knew her, before it disappeared into the shadows of evening and was gone.

Pearl and Christopher married on a day when the warm breeze carried the sweet scent of May blossom and all was sunshine and light. They’d chosen the little parish church of Ditchburn for the nuptials. It was the nearest church to the farm and meant that Ray and George and their wives could attend the service. Wilbert and his wife and children were there, and Seth had shut the shop for the day so the three shopgirls could attend with him and Nessie. It was a merry party who returned to the farm once the parson had pronounced the couple man and wife.

Ivy and Mabel had laid on a veritable feast in the hay barn. It had been swept out, the cobwebs brushed down from the rafters, and bunches of wild flowers fastened on the walls. A long trestle table was set up in the middle of the floor with two long forms either side. After the excellent wedding breakfast the table was pushed to one side and everyone danced to the accompaniment of music provided by Ray’s fiddle, the hilarity aided by the bottles of homemade wine and ale which were consumed liberally. Everyone said they’d never been to such a wonderful wedding.