Every Mother's Son (21 page)

‘He says that he’ll take us to his premises. I have some things to collect that he’s been storing for me.’

‘What things?’ Charles asked. ‘I hope you’re not bringing a sack of fripperies. We’ve to carry everything on our backs, you realize?’

‘Of course.’ Beatrice turned up her nose. ‘I am prepared, but I wanted to make a suggestion. You must say if you don’t agree.’

‘We will, don’t think that we won’t,’ Charles retorted, but Daniel said nothing. He was just happy that Beatrice was going to travel with them.

When they reached the town the chandler pulled into a stable yard at the back of his shop and they jumped down and unloaded their belongings. Beatrice followed the chandler into his premises by the back door.

‘She’s been here before,’ Charles commented. ‘I’m a bit bothered, Daniel. Beatrice is used to comfort; what if we have to sleep out under the stars as we did before?’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘Father would be horrified.’

‘Then don’t tell him,’ Daniel said. ‘He’ll assume we’ve stayed in lodgings, which we will be doing most of the time. It’s not as if you’d be lying; you’d be protecting him from a truth he wouldn’t like, but which isn’t doing any harm.’

Beatrice came out again and waved from the doorway. ‘Will you come in?’ she called. ‘Henri has an idea for us, and there’s coffee and cake too.’

‘We’re being softened up,’ Charles muttered, and Daniel laughed. It was going to be unpredictable and fun with Beatrice travelling with them.

They were led into a small room behind the shop where the chandler’s wife had set out a pot of coffee and a delicious-looking cake. She chattered to Beatrice as if she knew her well. The chandler was attending to someone in the shop but came in and sat down at the table with them as they drank their coffee.

‘I know Henri and his wife fairly well,’ Beatrice explained. ‘I’ve often borrowed a mount from him to ride along the lakeside.’

‘Alone?’ Charles questioned.

‘Sometimes,’ she said. ‘Or sometimes with a companion. Madame Carpeoux hasn’t objected. She knows I’m proficient.’ She paused. ‘And the last time I was here, I told Henri that you were coming and that we were all travelling into Italy. That’s why he was happy to drive you up to the academy last night.’

Charles sat back and folded his arms with a resigned sigh, and Daniel hid a smile. It seemed that Beatrice had been planning for some time.

‘He asked how we were travelling and said it was quite expensive to take a carriage, for there isn’t yet a train from here that goes through the mountains. Obviously it’s much too far to walk, so he said why didn’t we go on horseback.’

Daniel leaned forward and clasped his hands together. ‘That’d be marvellous,’ he said. ‘But ’cost of hiring would be far too much.’

‘Ah, well. Let me explain. Henri has three mountain ponies, Haflingers, that he’s been hiring out to the summer tourists, and he was planning on selling them and buying others. They would be perfect for going over the mountains,’ she said eagerly. ‘And we could sell them ourselves when we were ready to go home.’

Reluctantly Daniel shook his head. Much as he would like to, he could not afford to buy a horse. He couldn’t even consider it.

‘Haflinger?’ Charles said. ‘Never heard of them.’

‘They’re from the Tyrol originally,’ Beatrice told him. ‘I’ve ridden one of Henri’s and they’re very steady and good-natured—’

‘I’m sorry, Beatrice,’ Daniel interrupted, ‘but I can’t possibly. I haven’t got that kind of money.’ And there, he thought, is the great difference between us. Beatrice and Charles don’t have to think twice about ’cost; we’re a world apart.

‘Let’s take a look at them.’ Charles rose from the table. ‘I’ve got an idea, even though I haven’t ridden a pony since I was twelve.’

Somewhat reluctantly Daniel followed Beatrice and Charles and Henri back outside. He’d been so eager to travel, but it seemed now that without money it wasn’t possible. Unbidden came the thought that perhaps he should have come alone on this journey, sleeping out under the stars and going at his own speed, tramping on foot and resting when he was tired, eating when he was hungry.

Henri brought out one of the ponies, a mare, and walked her towards Beatrice. She was a light chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail and a star on her nose, and Daniel heaved a breath at the sight of her. Then the next one was brought out, again a chestnut, with a strong back and a flowing mane and a blaze down his nose, and finally the third, small but powerfully built and handsome, with two white socks on his forelegs.

Daniel breathed out; they were beautiful and he could see by their strong sloping shoulders that there was a strain of Arab in them.

‘They’re a family,’ Beatrice said. ‘Mother and two sons, and I suspect that’s why they haven’t been sold before. Henri is sentimental and doesn’t want to split them up.’

‘Can I try?’ Charles asked. ‘They’re very handsome, but rather smaller than anything I’ve ridden in a long time.’

‘But sturdy,’ Daniel commented. ‘They’d carry your weight and more.’ But again he shook his head; this wasn’t an option for him. ‘I’m sorry, it’s a grand idea, but—’

‘Hang on a minute,’ Charles said. ‘You haven’t heard my suggestion. Beatrice is quite right. It would be quicker and more practical to ride, especially as we’re all competent riders, and,’ he added swiftly as Daniel opened his mouth to speak, ‘what neither of you know is that Father was so concerned that Daniel and I were only bringing a small amount of money with us that he insisted on giving me a banker’s draft to be cashed in case of emergency.’

‘This isn’t an emergency,’ Daniel protested. ‘It’s a convenience.’

‘Exactly!’ Charles said triumphantly. ‘So what I suggest is that we use some of the money to buy the ponies and then at the end of the journey we sell them and put the money back. Can you see anything wrong with that idea, Daniel?’

And try as he might, Daniel couldn’t. Finally he shook his head and nodded in acceptance.

They broke out in wreaths of smiles. They all had a love of horses and were skilled and experienced, Daniel probably more so than the twins, and how much more satisfying, they agreed, than travelling on foot or train.

*

Charles and Beatrice discussed the price with Henri and he suggested that for an extra fifty francs they might also buy one of his donkeys to carry their luggage.

‘Oh, yes,’ Beatrice broke in enthusiastically. ‘And then we’ll be just like Robert Louis Stevenson in
Travels in the Cévennes
!’

Daniel looked bemused and Charles said, ‘the poet?’

‘Yes,’ Beatrice laughed. ‘He went on a hiking holiday in France and bought a donkey to carry his sleeping sack and other baggage. The donkey, Modestine, was very stubborn and would only go at her own pace or not at all. He wrote a book about it and we read it last year at the academy.’

‘And you’re suggesting that we take one?’ Daniel said humorously. ‘Is that a good idea?’

Henri said that all of his donkeys were very obedient and placid and would be no trouble at all, and on the strength of that, Beatrice went off to a local shop and bought herself a small tent to sleep in. This, with the tent poles and sleeping sacks, was loaded on the donkey, who Beatrice insisted should be called Modesty, a name similar to that chosen by the poet.

The price agreed included bridles and saddles and Henri gave them used but serviceable rugs for the horses in case the nights were cold; and then they were ready and it was almost midday.

They decided to take Henri’s advice and follow the welltravelled route towards the Jungfrau to get the feel of the ponies, and after that head towards the town of Brig-Glis where they could find accommodation before travelling over the Simplon Pass into Italy.

As they neared the high Alps Daniel felt that he was entering another world; above them was ice and snow, beneath them flower-strewn meadows, and around them air so sweet and clean and crisp that he could taste it. He filled his lungs and felt rejuvenated. He glanced at Beatrice, who was riding alongside, and smiled at her. Her long fair plaits hung beneath a wool hat covering her ears, her cheeks were flushed, her skin was gold and rose and her eyes were bright as she turned towards him. She too looked other-worldly, he thought, a goddess from another sphere, ethereal and yet strong as she sat, not sidesaddle, but astride in her divided skirt, flesh and blood, living and breathing.

‘What do you think, Daniel?’ she asked softly. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’

I love you.
His lips didn’t move as he breathed the words. He swallowed. ‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘So very beautiful.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The Humber rippled beneath a bright sky. Harriet pinned up a line of washing that flapped in a gusty breeze, then gazed down the hillside towards the estuary and wondered where her eldest son was now. She’d received postcards from Rouen and Paris and a place she had difficulty pronouncing, when Daniel had crossed the border into Switzerland. She was thrilled for him. Her nervousness over his travelling such a long way had dissipated since the first postcard had arrived, telling her with great enthusiasm what he and Charles had seen and done, and now she eagerly awaited others as he continued on his journey.

Fletcher said all along that he’d be fine, she reflected, and of course he was right. What a wonderful adventure. I can hardly believe that a son of mine – there, she thought, I’m doing it again. Why shouldn’t a son of mine do anything he wants to do?

It was his unknown grandfather that had excited Daniel’s curiosity, and Granny Rosie had encouraged him, Harriet thought, because she wanted to know what had happened to Noah’s father.

Maria called her from the back door. ‘Ma, I think this cake is done. Do you want to check it?’

‘Smells good.’ Harriet carefully opened the oven door. She took out the fruitcake that Maria had made and placed it on the table, and then pierced the top with a fine skewer. ‘Perfect,’ she said, pulling the skewer out clean and dry. ‘This is a recipe that your Granny Tuke showed me. It’s quite easy to make and keeps well in a tin.’

Harriet always took care to give praise where praise was due, and it was true that Ellen Tuke had taught her a great deal about baking and housewifery, as well as teaching her to milk cows and keep poultry and other things that every country wife needed to know, and of which she had been completely ignorant when she married Noah. But Ellen’s bitterness and resentment had soured any kind of relationship she might have had, not only with Harriet, but with her and Fletcher’s children too.

‘There’s somebody coming.’ Maria lifted her head to look out of the kitchen window, and they both heard the clatter of wheels and hooves on the cobbles in the yard.

‘It’s Mrs Hart,’ Maria said, ‘driving her trap. Are you expecting her?’

‘No, but she knows she’s always welcome to drop in at any time. There are no calling cards expected here.’

Maria laughed. Mrs Topham had always expected a note or a card before receiving a visitor, and would not have liked anyone to call without being forewarned. But her mother hadn’t been brought up in that way and welcomed anyone who came.

‘I apologize for calling without notice!’ Mrs Hart exclaimed, entering through the back door, which Harriet was holding open for her. ‘Is this your kitchen? Have I come in the wrong way? Oh, but it’s lovely – so inviting, and such a glorious smell of baking.’ She unbuttoned the collar of her coat. ‘What a good thing it’s you, Harriet,’ she murmured. ‘I would be ostracized if I had done this to anyone else. They would think I was out of my senses.’

She did seem to be out of her senses, Harriet thought, taut and anxious and insisting that she didn’t want to be a nuisance.

‘Maria, would you put a match to ’sitting room fire, there’s a love. Mrs Hart and I will sit in there.’ Harriet was proud of her neat and cosy sitting room, where she sometimes did her mending or sat peacefully with Fletcher if everyone else was busy at the kitchen table.

‘I don’t want to be a nuisance,’ Mrs Hart repeated.

Maria assured her that it wasn’t a bother, and asked if she would take a pot of tea or coffee. Her time at Mrs Topham’s had taught her the gracious art of receiving visitors and guests and she knew how to behave.

The fire soon flickered into life and Harriet invited Melissa to take a seat whilst Maria was making coffee.

‘This is nice, Harriet. Is this your own room, as my sitting room is mine?’

‘Mainly it is,’ Harriet said. ‘But all ’family are welcome in here. Sometimes if ’bairns want a quiet chat they’ll come in to talk to me or to Fletcher. ’Kitchen is a hubbub of activity when we’re all in. You seem a little on edge, ma’am,’ she ventured. ‘Has something happened to upset you?’

‘How intuitive you are, Harriet.’ Melissa folded her hands on her lap. ‘Do you miss Daniel?’ she asked suddenly.

‘Oh, yes, I do. All ’time,’ Harriet said. ‘I expect you’re just ’same with Charles and Miss Beatrice, and all your children, o’ course,’ she added, remembering that Stephen and George were away at school until the summer holidays.

‘And have you heard from Daniel recently?’ Melissa leaned forward as if eager for information.

‘Not for a couple of weeks; they’d crossed into Switzerland by then.’ Harriet chuckled. ‘He told me about them sleeping out by ’side of ’lake. That was funny, wasn’t it?’

Melissa hadn’t heard of the escapade, so Harriet laughingly told her of the night in a public garden. ‘Charles wouldn’t tell us that,’ Melissa sighed. ‘He would think that his father would be shocked. Which he might have been, or anxious, anyway, that they might have got into trouble, whereas I think it quite hilarious.’ She didn’t laugh, though, and paused for a moment before adding, ‘Except that I’m anxious, Harriet.’

Harriet clasped her hands tightly together. ‘About— What about?’

‘Yesterday I received a letter from Madame Carpeoux, the principal of Beatrice’s academy. She informs me that Beatrice has left the academy and has gone travelling with her brother Charles and their
cousin
.’

Harriet was astonished. ‘And Beatrice didn’t tell you?’