Chaff upon the Wind (42 page)

‘Where’s Johnnie?’ She was very surprised the boy was not with Jack for she knew he loved to be with the threshing. His passion for the threshing set and its work was nearly as
great as his father’s. And that morning he had grumbled because she had asked him to stay at home once more to be with Jack.

‘Oh Mam, why can’t I come with you? He’s a lot better. He’ll be all right on his own now.’

‘You stay here, Johnnie, and do as I say.’

For the first time ever she saw a brief flash of a likeness to his mother in the disappointed pout of his mouth.

Now, facing Jack, Kitty said again, ‘Where is he?’ but Jack did not answer. His gaze was roaming over the lines of his engine. He was drinking in the sight of her as a lover who has
been separated from his sweetheart.

Kitty grasped his hand and opened her mouth to shout above the noise of the throbbing engine, but at that moment a loud bang shuddered the air and a hiss of steam blew from a point above
Sylvie
’s fire box.

Jack leaped forward. ‘The bloody fool. He’s let the water level drop. I warned you, Kitty . . .’

Helplessly, Kitty stood and watched as Edward jumped down from the footplate, away from the scalding steam. Above the commotion, she could not hear what was said, but she saw Jack bunch his fist
into Edward’s face and then, turning away, he climbed up on to the manstand.

The jet of steam was dying now as the fire was doused. As Jack operated the lever, the engine stopped. The team threw down their forks and came to see what had happened. Edward stood beside
Kitty, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

‘I don’t know what’s gone wrong. Everything seemed all right . . .’

‘Melted the lead plug, that’s what’s happened.’ Nathaniel, the most knowledgeable one there other than Jack, sniffed. ‘’S’what an engine man dreads
’appening. You must have let the water levels drop, mester,’ he added, glancing accusingly at Edward. Then the old man turned away. ‘Well, I’ll be getting mesen home.
There’ll be no more threshing for a day or two till Jack gets it replaced.’

Even amid the furore, Kitty marvelled that Jack had resumed his rightful place so easily, so swiftly in the minds of the men.

She touched Edward’s arm. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said softly, as Nathaniel moved out of earshot. ‘Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Just look at him. Just look
at Jack.’

It was not quite what she would have planned to happen, but there was no denying that her object had been achieved.

Jack Thorndyke was back, back where he belonged. Standing on the footplate, Kitty and Edward saw him reach out to touch the well-known levers. His hand was trembling, but when he turned to look
at them, all the momentary anger was gone and in its place there was triumph and happiness.

Relief showed on Edward’s face and he moved towards the engine. Looking up at the man above him, Kitty heard him say, ‘I’m sorry, Thorndyke, for what’s happened. Is there
much damage, because whatever it is, I’ll . . .?’

‘No, no,’ Jack said and he was actually smiling now. ‘She’ll just want cleaning out thoroughly and a new lead plug fitted, then she’ll be as good as new.’
With a proprietorial gesture, he patted the engine’s steering wheel.

Jack Thorndyke had taken charge once more, the gesture said.

‘If you’ll show me what needs doing . . .?’ Edward was saying as Jack jumped down and stood facing him. ‘And about the plug? Where can we get another? Just say the
word.’

For the first time since before his accident, no, even long before that, Kitty saw the wide grin spread across Jack’s face. He leaned towards Edward as if sharing a secret. ‘I allus
carry a spare, Master Edward.’ He tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger. ‘Just in case, y’know.’

It was then that Kitty moved forward and said again, ‘Jack, where is Johnnie?’

‘Eh?’ He looked down at her now, his annoyance at being bothered by what he considered a trivial matter showing plainly on his face. ‘What? Oh, him. I haven’t seen him
since this morning. ’Spect he’s wandered off somewhere.’

Kitty pulled in a shocked breath. ‘Wandered off? Jack, he never wanders off. He never goes anywhere without telling me.’

The man shrugged. ‘He’ll come back when he’s hungry.’

‘How can you be so – so callous?’ she accused through gritted teeth, but he was turning away from her again, Johnnie forgotten. All that mattered to Jack was his beloved,
injured
Sylvie
.

‘Oh you –
you
!’ she muttered and then she turned and ran towards the wall and through the rickety door into the garden of the Manor. Panting, she ran along the straight
path leading to the back door of the house. ‘Mrs Grundy, oh Mrs Grundy.’ She pounded on the back door, almost falling in as it was opened.

‘What on earth’s all the racket about? Why, Kitty . . .’ The homely figure of the cook was holding her arms wide to embrace her. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’

Kitty clutched at her. ‘Is he here?’

‘Who, lass? Is who here?’

‘Johnnie. Is he here with you and Milly?’ There was just the faint hope that the boy had got bored at home with his father and had come to the yard as usual, and had called in at the
kitchen of the Manor to sample Mrs Grundy’s scones and strawberry jam again.

But the cook was shaking her head and Kitty groaned. ‘Jack was supposed to be looking after him . . .’ she was babbling incoherently now in her anguish. ‘But he’s let him
wander off somewhere. He’s not seen him since morning. He must have been gone hours.’

Edward, overhearing her brief exchange with Jack, had followed her from the yard and was now standing in the doorway of the kitchen. ‘What’s the matter, Kitty?’

‘It’s Johnnie. I don’t know where he is. He’s been gone since this morning. I know he didn’t really want to stay at home. He wanted to come here. He loves being at
the threshing, but – but I told him to stay with Jack just – just . . . I mean, I wasn’t sure if Jack was really strong enough to be left for the whole day without anyone there if
he needed help. Seems I needn’t have bothered.’ A note of bitterness crept into her tone. ‘He’s fit enough when it comes to anything wrong with
Sylvie
.’

Edward stepped towards her and, ignoring Mrs Grundy’s watchful presence, took Kitty’s hand in his grimy ones.

‘Don’t worry, Kitty. I expect he got bored at home and he wouldn’t dare come to the yard if you’d told him not to. I’ll organize a search party. Most of the team
are still clearing up. I’ll catch them before they leave.’

Back in the yard, Edward called the workers together. ‘Have any of you seen the boy today? Young Johnnie?’

They looked at each another, murmuring, and then all shook their heads. At once Edward was issuing orders, sending the boys running in all directions to fetch more help and to begin a proper,
organized search party. And all the while Jack Thorndyke remained with the engine, his hand resting possessively upon
Sylvie
’s steering wheel, taking not the slightest interest in the
search for his missing son.

As dusk fell there was still no sign of the boy and by now the whole neighbourhood had been alerted. Men from Sir Ralph’s estate had joined in the search and Kitty knew
that by now Miriam, who was due to leave the very next day, would know too. What would she be feeling, Kitty wondered, hearing that her son was missing?

She knew already how Mrs Franklin felt. On returning to the Manor Mrs Grundy had said, ‘Madam ses I’m to lay on food for all the searchers, Kitty. Tell ’em all to come back
here for a bite. Isn’t she good?’

Kitty nodded, unable to speak. Of course she was good, but the cook, bless her, had no idea that it was Mrs Franklin’s own grandson who was missing.

They searched the stackyard, the fields, the woods and along the banks of the meandering streams around Tresford. All in vain.

‘Where can he be?’ Kitty whispered, twisting her fingers.

They were standing in the small back yard at the Manor, taking a respite while Mrs Grundy and Milly bustled in and out of the back door with tea and sandwiches and glasses of homemade beer.
Kitty could not hide her desperation. If anything had happened to Johnnie . . . He was her life, she realized suddenly. Even though she had not borne him, from that very first moment when she had
taken him into her arms the little chap had wound himself around her heart. If she were to lose him . . . A small sob escaped her and, hearing it, Edward put his arm about her shoulders and gave
her a comforting squeeze. ‘We’ll look again.’ Then he was moving away but not before Kitty had seen Jack’s glowering face. He had noticed Edward’s gesture and a sneer
twisted his mouth.

The search continued as dusk fell and then storm lanterns were lit. Kitty watched as the line of flickering lights moved across the fields, the men’s voices, calling the boy’s name,
echoing through the night air. As the darkness deepened, there was still no sign of Johnnie.

‘You must go home and rest, Kitty, you’re worn out,’ Edward tried to insist. Jack had already gone home, but Kitty was no longer angry with him. What he had accomplished this
day was little short of a miracle and, had it not been for her anxiety for Johnnie, she would have rejoiced wholeheartedly.

Kitty shook her head. ‘I can’t leave. I can’t rest. Not until he’s found.’

Edward sighed, but argued no more. ‘Is there anywhere you can think of where he might go? Would he go into the town, do you think? It was market day today – well – yesterday
now,’ he added, for midnight had come and gone. ‘Is there anything he’s particularly interested in, like animals or motor cars, anything like that?’

Kitty’s voice was little more than a strangled whisper. ‘Nothing that I can think of . . . Oh!’ She clapped her hand to her mouth and her eyes widened. The words almost spurted
out but she held her fingers firmly over her lips until she could formulate the words properly.

‘What? What is it? Have you thought of something?’

Indeed she had thought of something, but she could not tell him what was in her mind. All she could say was, ‘He – he might have – have gone to the Hall.’

Edward was puzzled. ‘The Hall? Whatever for?’

‘To – to say goodbye to Miss Miriam.’

‘Miriam?’ His puzzlement deepened, as well it might, Kitty thought. She swallowed and haltingly tried to find a plausible explanation that would cover the truth. ‘During the
last few weeks while – while Miss Miriam has been coming to dress Jack’s wound, well, the boy has become fascinated by her. He – he thinks she’s a pretty lady. And . .
.’ Kitty smiled, but the smile held a sadness that Edward could not have understood. ‘And she’s been very sweet . . .’ she swallowed the lump in her throat, ‘to
him.’

‘You do surprise me,’ Edward said drily. ‘I wouldn’t have thought my dear sister would have had time for young children. Mind you, she was always quite good to me when I
was ill.’ He grasped Kitty’s hand. ‘Come on, we’re wasting time.’

He helped her into the pony and trap and in minutes they were bowling through the dark lanes towards the Hall. Edward had his arm about her waist and she leaned against him, drawing comfort from
him.

Through the huge gates and up the long curving driveway and then Kitty said, ‘Don’t let’s wake anyone, if – if we can help it.’

‘I should think most of the household is still up. They’re all out looking for the young scallywag. Even Miriam. For all her faults, she is very fond of you, you know. I’m sure
she’d do anything to help you find your son.’

Oh Edward, she cried silently, if only you knew the truth. Of course Miriam’s out searching. Kitty hated deceiving this boy who had grown into such a wonderful man.

They had pulled into the yard at the back of the house. Edward climbed down and then turned to help Kitty.

‘Now, where shall we begin? Shall we knock at the back door and . . .?’

‘No, no.’ She clutched at his arm, still anxious not to wake any of the household who might have gone to bed. ‘Let’s look around the outbuildings first, at
least.’

‘Right, we’ll start with the stables.’

‘Miss Miriam brought him here a while back to show him a foal. Maybe . . .’

The horses, disturbed from their night’s repose, whinnied a soft greeting and nuzzled their shoulders as they crept down the length of the stalls.

‘What about the hayloft above?’ Kitty whispered and Edward patted her hand. ‘Good idea.’

Kitty was close on his heels as he climbed the ladder and poked his head through the trap door. ‘I can’t see . . . Wait a minute.’

With a grunt, Edward heaved himself up and disappeared from her view.

‘Can you see him? Is he there?’

There was a pause and a scuffle and Edward’s voice floated down to her. ‘Yes, he’s here. Safe and sound and fast asleep.’

Then Kitty wept, leaning her head against the rough wood of the ladder. ‘Oh thank God, thank God,’ she whispered.

A moment later, the sleepy form of the young boy was gently lowered into her outstretched arms. ‘Oh Johnnie, my darling boy.’

Then she had him in her arms and Edward was climbing back down the ladder to stand beside her while she buried her face against the boy, raining kisses on his soft cheek.

‘Come along,’ Edward said gently. ‘We’ll take him home. Then I must call off the search party and let everyone get some sleep.’

Johnnie stirred and murmured, ‘Mam? I came to see the pretty lady. Mrs Harding. She’s going away tomorrow, but they wouldn’t let me in.’ Then he snuggled into her
shoulder and slept once more.

Kitty tightened her arms around him, thankful to be carrying him away from the Hall.

‘So, the devoted Edward found him, eh?’ Jack sneered. ‘Seems a shame he dun’t know he was looking for his own nephew.’

‘Jack, you promised . . .’

He threw back his head and laughed. Then he stepped closer and with his one hand, he gripped her arm. ‘Aye, an’ I’ll keep it, just so long as you behave yourself, Kitty, and
don’t get any fancy ideas about young Franklin.’

‘He’s only a boy. At least, that’s how I think of him,’ she stammered, but now she knew that her tone was not as convincing now as it had once been. And she was so afraid
that Jack would hear it in her voice. If the truth be known, she no longer thought of Edward Franklin as a sickly young boy. Now, he was a man.