Red Sky in the Morning (15 page)

A shudder ran through Anna and she felt suddenly sick. She turned her head away before Joe should read her expression.

‘And this Wilf Tinker was Mrs Appleyard’s father?’ she asked, recovering herself.

‘Tha’s right. Him and his missis had two lasses. Bertha and Lucy. Lucy did well for herself. Married an office worker and lives in Ludthorpe. Quite the lady, Lucy is. I reckon poor
old Bertha envies her. Though give me Eddie Appleyard any time. He’s all right, is Eddie. But I dun’t reckon I need to tell you that, lass, do I?’

Anna turned back slowly to meet his steady gaze. ‘No, Mr Wainwright,’ she said. ‘You don’t.’

By shearing time Maisie was out in the bright, early summer days, sitting up in the deep, black pram that Pat had brought for her.

‘Jessie Dawson doesn’t want owt for it.’

Anna had eyed the district nurse sceptically. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Course I am.’ Pat laughed. ‘Mind you, I had a job to get her to part with it. She shed tears as I wheeled it away. “All my bairns have been in that pram,” she
said.’

Anna frowned. ‘Are you sure she won’t want it again? I mean, she sounds very fond of children. She might—’

‘I’m sure Jessie’d love another half-dozen given the chance. But she won’t have the chance, love. She had to have a hysterectomy after the last baby.’

Anna put her hand onto the well-worn handle. The pram sagged down at one corner where a spring had weakened.

‘It’s a bit battered, ducky, like I told you.’

‘It’s fine.’ Anna smiled as she rocked the pram gently. ‘Maisie will love being outside.’

The local farmers all helped one another at certain times of the year: haymaking, harvest and, for those who kept sheep on the Wolds’ hills, shearing. But with Eddie’s small flock,
only Sam Granger, an acknowledged ‘dab hand’ at shearing, would come. And, of course, Joe Wainwright, who seemed to turn up at every event, would no doubt be there.

On the day before shearing was to begin in the yard at Cackle Hill Farm, Anna wheeled Maisie into the warm sunshine and parked the pram just outside the gate in the fence surrounding their home.
She glanced back towards the cottage garden with a small stab of pride. Despite her intention to leave as soon as she could, she had not been able to stand the sight of the neglected garden. In
front of the cottage, she had scythed the small patches of grass and was able to keep it short now with a battered old lawnmower that Pat had brought her.

‘I’ve treated myself to a brand-new one,’ the nurse had said, beaming. ‘I’ve got quite a big lawn and this one was too much like hard work. But you’re young
and strong. You’ll cope with it.’

Anna had weeded the flowerbeds and now Canterbury bells, cornflowers and convolvulus sprouted happily, whilst lupins and irises were just coming into flower. At the side of the building, there
had once been a square of kitchen garden. Whilst Anna was adamant that she would not be here long enough to enjoy the fruits of her labour, she had nevertheless cleared the ground and planted
onions and lettuce.

‘Why don’t you plant cabbage and caulis?’ Eddie had suggested in March. ‘And what about runner beans and . . .’

‘It’s not worth it,’ Anna said quietly. ‘I won’t be here to enjoy them.’

Eddie’s face fell.

‘Unless you’d like me to plant them for you?’ she added.

Eddie shook his head. ‘No, lass,’ he said heavily as he turned away. ‘Don’t bother.’

But she had dug the kitchen garden over anyway and now, unearthed from the choking weeds and nettles, a rhubarb plant flourished in one corner flanked by two gooseberry bushes.

Buster, usually so boisterous, sat by the pram whenever Maisie was outside, as if guarding the child. Today, however, Anna had other work for him.

The sheep had all been washed in the stream a few days earlier in time for their fleeces to dry in the summer sunshine. It had been hard work, for the sheep hated being plunged into the water
and had fought and struggled. Panting and soaked through, Anna and Eddie had laughed at each other.

‘You look like a drowned rat,’ she had giggled.

‘So do you,’ he had countered, grinning. ‘Go on home. Go and get dry.’

‘Why don’t you come too? There’s a sharp breeze. You’ll be chilled by the time you walk back to the farm.’

‘Aye, mebbe you’re right.’

They walked together towards the cottage, Eddie pushing the pram containing a sleeping Maisie.

‘D’you know,’ he mused. ‘I don’t reckon I ever pushed our Tony in his pram. Not once.’

Anna laughed softly. ‘Not reckoned to be man’s work, eh?’

‘Wouldn’t have bothered me,’ Eddie said and there was a note of regret in his tone as if he thought he might have missed a special moment.

As he manoeuvred the pram through the back door, Anna said, ‘I’ll get a blanket for you. Could you set up the clothes airer? And get those wet things off.’

Eddie grinned. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

Anna changed into dry clothes in her bedroom and Eddie sat wrapped in a blanket whilst his wet garments steamed in front of the fire. Anna handed him a cup of hot cocoa and sat down beside
him.

‘A good job done.’ She smiled.

Eddie glanced up to meet her eyes. As he took the cup, their fingers touched briefly. ‘Aye lass,’ he said. ‘A good job done.’

They sat together in companionable silence and even when his clothes were dry enough to put on Eddie seemed reluctant to leave.

He paused in the doorway on his way out and said softly, ‘Thanks, lass, for everything.’ Very gently, he touched her cheek and then turned and walked away up the slope.

‘Oh, Eddie, what a lovely man you are,’ Anna whispered to herself as she watched him go. For the first time in many months she suddenly realized that she had not been afraid to be
alone with a man.

And now the day for shearing was almost here. Anna surveyed the sheep contentedly grazing in the field near her cottage. Then she shaded her eyes and looked up to the top of the rise, where she
could see Tony standing looking down the track towards her. Rip was sitting obediently beside him. She had often seen the two of them at the top of the hill, but not once, since the day he had been
sent by his father to fetch her to help with the difficult birth of twin lambs, had the boy visited the cottage.

Now she saw him glance, just once, over his shoulder as if checking to see if anyone was watching him. Then suddenly he launched himself down the hill, running pell-mell towards her, Rip
bounding along at his side barking joyfully.

The dog reached her first and jumped up to lick her face. Then Rip capered with the half-grown puppy. Anna held out her arms and, as Tony flung himself into them, she lifted him bodily off the
ground and swung him round.

‘Oh, I’ve missed you,’ she said impulsively as she set him on the ground and breathlessly they leant against each other, laughing together. She pulled back and held him at
arm’s length. ‘You’ve grown. I’m sure you’ve grown.’

Tony grinned. ‘Nah.’

‘You have, you have,’ she insisted and then laughed again. ‘But if you haven’t then come and look at Maisie. She certainly has.’

As he reached the pram, Tony gasped. ‘Oh. She’s sitting up and she’s smiling. Really smiling now.’ He held out a finger to her. The baby gripped it and tried to pull it
towards her mouth, but the boy laughed and gently eased it from her grasp. ‘No, no, dirty.’

Maisie blinked at him. Her smile faded. Her chin quivered and she began to whimper, huge tears welling in her dark brown eyes.

‘Oh don’t. Don’t cry, little Maisie. I didn’t mean to make you cry, but my finger’s mucky.’ He leant towards her and tickled Maisie until she chuckled once
more.

Watching the young boy’s tenderness with her child, Anna felt a lump come to her throat.

‘Come on,’ she tried to say briskly, though she didn’t quite manage it for her voice was unsteady. ‘We’ve work to do.’

‘Sam’s coming tomorrow to start the shearing,’ Tony said. ‘And Dad says he wants you to come down to the yard and wrap the fleeces for him.’ The
boy put his head on one side and regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Do you know how to do it?’

Anna closed her eyes for a moment as the memories came flooding back, threatening, not for the first time, to overwhelm her. She knew just how it would be. The yard alive with activity: sheep
bleating, men laughing and ribbing one another, yet all the while the fleeces would be falling from the sheep as if by magic under the expert hands wielding the shears. She opened her eyes again,
but, not trusting herself to speak, she merely nodded.

‘We’ve to round up about half the flock tomorrow morning. Joe Wainwright comes an’ all. He cuts all the clags off and opens up the necks for Sam. We do about half the flock one
day and the rest the next.’

‘Oh.’ Anna raised her eyebrows. ‘I’d have thought an expert shearer could do your dad’s flock in a day.’

Tony grinned. ‘He could easy, but he doesn’t start till midday. Ses he likes the sheep to have the sun on their backs for a while. Makes the shearing easier, he ses.’

Anna smiled, for a moment her thoughts were far away once more. ‘So it does,’ she murmured. ‘I’d forgotten that.’ Then she brought her wandering mind back to the
job in hand. ‘So, are you coming to help me round them up in the morning?’

Tony nodded. ‘I’ll be here early.’

The following morning Anna and Tony worked together, leaving Buster sitting beside the pram. For once, the little dog was restless, wanting to join in the rounding up. At last, unable to sit
still any longer, he bounded across to Rip, startling the five sheep the older dog was guiding up the track. Anna and Tony burst out laughing, imagining they could see an aggrieved look on
Rip’s face.

‘Just look at him,’ Tony spluttered. ‘He looks like me dad when I’ve done something daft.’

‘I know just what you mean. He looks as if he’s saying, “Look what you’ve done. Now I’ve got to start all over again.” ’

‘And poor Buster hasn’t a clue what he
has
done.’

‘Here, boy. Here, Buster,’ Anna called and the young dog came slowly towards her, head down in apology. But Anna fondled him. ‘It’s all right, but you’ve got to
learn. Now, stay.’

The dog lay down whilst Anna, holding the crook that Eddie had lent her, moved to the right and began to whistle to Rip. With a series of shouted instructions and whistles, they rounded up the
five sheep again.

‘Yan, tan, tethera, fethera, pethera . . .’ she murmured to herself as her eyes misted over once more. But Tony had heard her.

‘Oh, you can count like the shepherds, an’ all.’

‘What?’ Anna turned startled eyes upon him, hardly realizing that she had spoken aloud. ‘Oh – er – yes.’

‘Then you can teach me. Dad only knows “yan, tan, tethera”, then he forgets. How far can you count?’

‘Only to about twenty . . .’

‘That’ll do.’ Tony grinned.

Anna smiled. ‘You follow Rip up the hill and see he gets them into the barn whilst I get the next lot. And I’ll try to get this little rascal to do as he’s told.’ She
turned towards the young dog. ‘Come on, Buster. High time you learned to earn your keep.’

Anna felt very nervous about going down to the yard. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she owed Eddie Appleyard so much, she would have stayed in her little haven, safe
from inquisitive eyes. But, she sighed, she had no choice. So she put Maisie in the pram with a bottle for her feed and set off up the track. Joe Wainwright and a man Anna had not met before were
already at work in the yard.

Eddie made the brief introduction. ‘This is Sam, Anna.’ Eddie made no reference to the baby in the pram, which she had parked at the edge of the yard.

‘Morning, lass,’ Joe greeted her cheerfully, but Sam glowered briefly at her and then turned his back.

As she was making ready the table where she would lay the fleeces to wrap them, Joe came and stood beside her. ‘Tek no notice of old Sam, lass. He’s got a daughter of his own about
your age. And he’s a better guard dog than Eddie’s sheepdog ovver yonder.’ The man gave a wheezing laugh. He leant a little closer. ‘Won’t let the poor lass even speak
to the young fellers, ne’er mind walk out with any of ’em.’

Anna’s mouth tightened as she glanced towards Maisie sitting contentedly in her pram. ‘He doesn’t approve of me, you mean.’

Quite unabashed, Joe nodded. ‘Summat like that, aye, lass. But you mark my words, he’s stacking up a barrowload of trouble for ’issen. The more you try to keep ’em tied
down, the more they’ll try to slip the leash. ’Tis only nature, lass, ’tis only nature.’ Joe laughed again and leant closer to whisper, ‘But what he forgets is that
some of us round here have long memories. When he was a young feller his wife’s father went after him with a shotgun one night.’

Anna turned to stare at Joe.

‘You’ve heard of a shotgun wedding, lass, ain’t ya?’

Anna nodded.

‘Well, that was a real one, an’ no mistake, ’cos their first bairn was born only six months after they was wed.’ Joe winked and tapped the side of his nose. ‘So
Sam’s the last one to be disapproving, ain’t he?’

Anna said nothing, but let her head drop forwards to hide her face. Then she felt Joe’s friendly hand rest briefly on her shoulder. ‘Chin up, lass. You’m got a lovely babby
there. Be proud of her.’

Then he turned and walked away, but the man’s bluff kindness had brought tears to her eyes.

The men worked hard, with Anna alongside them pausing only to feed and change Maisie and to grab a quick bite to eat herself. She watched in admiration as Sam tipped each sheep onto its rump. So
sharp were his blades and so experienced his hands that he didn’t even seem to work the shears, but swept the blades down with long easy strokes, deftly turning the animal so that the fleece
came off in one whole piece. Then it was Anna’s turn to pick up the fleece and take it to the slatted table. Taking it by the hind legs, she flung it upwards and outwards, as if shaking a
rug, so that dust and loose fibres floated around her. Then she picked off all the bits of briar and grass that still clung to it. She folded the flanks towards the centre to form a rectangle and
rolled the fleece from the back end up towards the neck, where she drew out the neck wool to form a tie long enough to encircle the rolled fleece and tuck back in under itself.