Red Sky in the Morning (2 page)

Eddie ran his hand agitatedly through his thick brown hair. He was a tall, thin man in his mid-thirties, yet slightly stooping, as if the years of farm work were already bending his back. His
face was weather-beaten and there were lines around his brown eyes.

‘There’s nothing going on, as you put it,’ he said wearily. ‘She’s just a poor lass who’s got nowhere to go. Surely, you can show a bit of—’

‘And why’s she got nowhere to go?’ Bertha flung her arm out, pointing at the girl’s stomach. ‘Because ’er family – if she’s got any – has
slung the little slut out, that’s why.’

Eddie sighed. ‘You don’t know that.’ They were talking about the girl as if she was not there. ‘You don’t know anything about her. No more than I do.’

‘Aye, but I can guess.’

‘It’s the truth I’m telling you,’ he said quietly, yet there was a note in his tone that implied he knew she wouldn’t believe him.

Bertha turned towards the girl. ‘What’s your name then?’

The violet eyes regarded the woman steadily. ‘Anna,’ the girl said softly.

‘Anna what?’

The girl hesitated and looked away, avoiding Bertha’s probing, hostile eyes. She ran her tongue nervously round her lips. ‘Anna Woods.’

But Bertha had noticed the hesitation. She sniffed in disbelief. ‘Oh aye. Well then, Anna Woods – or whatever your name is – you’d better take yourself off, ’cos we
don’t want the likes of you hanging around here. Go on.’ She flapped her hand. ‘Be off with you. And don’t come round here again.’

‘She can sleep in the stable,’ Eddie put in. ‘You can’t turn the lass out, specially when it’s nearly Christmas.’ Sadly, he added, ‘No room at the inn,
eh, Bertha? Now look, love, why don’t you find her a blanket and—?’

‘I aren’t finding the little trollop owt.’ Bertha whipped round on him. ‘And as for you, Eddie Appleyard, you ain’t heard the last of this.’ At that moment
she noticed the boy still standing in the doorway. Instantly Bertha’s whole demeanour changed. She stepped towards him and put her arm around his shoulders. ‘What are you doing down
here, Tony? Go back to bed, there’s a good boy.’

Anna saw the boy glance briefly at his father as he murmured, ‘Yes, Mam,’ and then he scuttled out of sight. She heard his light footsteps on the stairs and then the sound of his
bare feet pattering across the floor above.

‘There.’ The woman rounded on her husband again. ‘See how you upset him? He can’t sleep till he knows you’re safely home. He’s the same every week. Though why
he should bother himself after the way you carry on beats me.’

Sickened by the woman’s ranting, Anna turned and stepped out of the warm kitchen and through the scullery. As she opened the back door, she shivered again as the coldness of the wet night
hit her once more. She bent her head against the rain and hurried towards the barn door through which the pony had disappeared. Halfway across the yard, she jumped as a dog, chained outside its
kennel, barked and tried to run towards her. She couldn’t see it clearly in the darkness, but she made soothing sounds in her throat. The dog ceased its barking, whined and then returned to
its shelter.
Even he doesn’t like the wet
, she thought wryly.

Inside the barn, it was cold but dry. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark, Anna felt her way around, her icy fingers touching the brick walls. She heard the sound of the pony and her
fingers touched a coarse blanket thrown over the boarding at the side of his stall.

‘Sorry, Duke,’ she murmured and stroked his rump, ‘but my need is greater than yours tonight.’

Hugging the blanket, which smelled strongly of horse, she felt her way up a ladder and into the hayloft. She removed her wet coat and wrapped herself in the blanket, then lay down on the hay,
burrowing beneath it to find what warmth she could.

Exhausted, she was asleep in seconds.

Anna was awakened by the sound of someone climbing the ladder to the loft. She stretched and raised herself on one elbow. It was not the man whose head appeared, but the young
boy’s. They stared at each other for several moments in the pale light of a cold dawn, before Anna lay down again and closed her eyes. She hoped he would go away once his curiosity had been
satisfied. She had not yet made up her mind what to do next. She wished she could stay here for ever. She was warm and snug for the first time in weeks.

In fact
, she thought,
this would be a nice place to die.

She was about to drift off into sleep again when she heard the boy climb the rest of the ladder and creep, on hands and knees, across the hay towards her. There was a long silence before he
whispered, ‘I’ve brought you something to eat.’ Another pause and then he added, ‘And some milk.’

She opened her eyes again and looked up at him. He was holding a roughly wrapped parcel and had a small milk can hooked over his wrist. ‘It’s only bread and cheese.’ He was
apologetic. ‘It’s all I could take without me mam finding out.’

Now Anna sat up, reaching out thankfully to take the food. She had been ready to give up, to succumb at last to an overwhelming desire to close her eyes and never wake up, but the physical ache
of hunger revived her instinct to survive.

The boy watched her as she ate ravenously, his brown eyes large in his thin face. ‘Are you going to have a baby?’ The question was innocent enough, but the girl scowled at him and
did not answer. Yet it was the first time her face had registered any kind of emotion. ‘Where have you come from?’ Again, no answer. ‘Where are you going?’ To this she
replied only with a vague lift of her shoulders. ‘Haven’t you got a home? A mam and dad?’

Anna lay down again. ‘Thanks for the food,’ she said flatly, deliberately ignoring his questions. Her words were a dismissal, yet the boy did not move. He sat quietly beside her and
she could feel him watching her.

They heard a noise below and, startled, the boy scrambled away towards the ladder. Anna raised her head. He was peering down the open hatch, his eyes wide and fearful. Then she saw him relax,
the sudden tension in his limbs drain away.

‘Hello, lad.’ Eddie Appleyard’s voice drifted up. ‘Come to see if our visitor’s still here, have you?’

The boy nodded as the man began to climb up towards him. ‘I brought her some bread an’ cheese, Dad. And some milk. But don’t tell Mam, will you?’

Eddie appeared at the top of the ladder. Even through the poor light, Anna could see that he was smiling. He reached out and ruffled his son’s hair. ‘No, son, course I
won’t.’ His grin broadened and Anna had the feeling it was not the first secret that father and son had shared. ‘As long as you don’t tell her I’ve raided the larder
an’ all.’ He handed up a blue-and-white-check cloth bundle as he glanced across to where the girl lay. The boy took it and moved back to her side. ‘Me dad’s brought you
something too.’

The man levered himself up the last rungs of the ladder and stepped into the loft, bending his head to avoid the low rafters. He dropped to his haunches beside her as, now, Anna sat upright.

‘It’s very kind of you,’ she said huskily as she unwrapped the cloth. There was a slice of pork pie, two cold sausages and two slices of bread, spread thickly with butter.

‘And here’s a couple of apples,’ the man said, fishing in his pocket. ‘From our own orchard. We lay ’em out on newspaper in the loft to last us through the
winter.’

Now they both sat and watched her eat. When she had finished, the man said kindly, ‘Now, lass, what can we do to help you? Are you heading for somewhere? I could mebbe take you there, if
it’s not too far away?’

There was a long silence whilst the girl seemed to be struggling inwardly. She saw the man and his young son exchange a glance, but they waited patiently for her answer. At last she said
haltingly, ‘No, I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Are you looking for work?’ Eddie asked. ‘Is that it?’

‘I suppose so, though—’ She hesitated, before adding bitterly, ‘I won’t be able to work for very long.’

‘Do you know owt about farm work?’ Eddie asked, carefully ignoring her brief reference to her condition.

The girl regarded him steadily, seeming to weigh up the consequences of her answer before uttering it. Guardedly, she said, ‘A bit.’

‘Can you milk cows?’

She shook her head, her eyes downcast. Her reluctance was obvious, but at last she admitted, ‘Sheep. I know about sheep.’

The boy clapped his hands excitedly. ‘We’ve got sheep. Lincolnshire Longwools,’ he added with a note of pride. ‘And it’ll be lambing time soon. She could help with
the sheep, Dad, couldn’t she?’

‘Well—’ Now the man was doubtful. ‘I wasn’t thinking so much of her staying with us.’ His expression was both apprehensive and apologetic at the same time.
‘I was just wondering if we could find her a place on a farm hereabouts.’

The boy’s face fell.

‘It’s all right, Mister.’ Anna moved to get up from her warm nest in the hay. ‘I don’t want to cause you any bother.’ She glanced at him shrewdly as,
remembering the previous night, she added softly, ‘No more than I have already.’ In a shaft of early morning light slanting through the rafters, she could see that Eddie had a scratch
on his left cheekbone. A scratch that had not been there the previous evening.

Eddie made a dismissive gesture with his hand, but she could see the wariness deep in his eyes. The boy was still glancing from one to the other, biting his lip. Suddenly, his expression
brightened again. ‘What about the cottage, Dad? Couldn’t she stay there?’

The man looked at him, at the girl and then back to his son. ‘But it’s nearly falling down, lad. It’s hardly weatherproof.’

‘You could mend it, Dad.’ The boy’s face was alight with eagerness. ‘You could do the walls.’ He glanced at Anna. ‘They’re only mud.’ Now he
looked back again to his father. ‘And Mr Wainwright could do the roof.’ Once more he explained to Anna, ‘It’s a thatched roof and Mr Wainwright does thatching. He mended the
corner shop in the village. It’s got a thatched roof an’ all. Oh Dad, do let her stay. Please. She’s got nowhere else to go.’

‘Is that right, lass?’ the man asked her quietly and when she nodded, he sighed.

His brow furrowed, he sat deep in thought for several minutes until a shout made them all jump. It was Bertha’s shrill voice in the barn below them.

‘Eddie? Where are you?’

The boy made a sudden movement like a startled fawn, but his father put his finger to his lips.

Bertha was at the bottom of the ladder. ‘Are you up there, Eddie Appleyard? ’Cos if you are—’

It sounded as if the woman suspected that Anna had spent the night in the hayloft. Like statues the three of them were motionless, the boy holding his breath, his father looking guilty. Anna
watched the man with detached curiosity.
He’s afraid of her
, she thought with a flicker of surprise. Never before had she seen a man fearful of a woman. The other way about, yes, oh
yes . . .

She closed her mind against thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.

Bertha’s voice, still calling her husband’s name, was further away now. ‘She’ll be gone in a minute,’ the man said in a low voice, ‘then you can go down,
Tony.’

‘What if she asks where I’ve been?’

Eddie’s smile flickered briefly. ‘Well, I wouldn’t tell her you’ve been up here with this lass. Don’t worry, I don’t think she’ll ask you. It’s me
she’s after.’ He looked at Anna. ‘She’ll be wanting the trap harnessed. She always goes into the town on a Thursday to see her sister and do a bit of shopping.’ He
chuckled, a deep rumbling sound, and his face looked suddenly much younger, laughter lines wrinkling around his eyes. ‘For all the things I’ve forgotten to bring from the market the day
before when I’ve had one too many.’

He stood up and brushed the hay from his clothes. ‘Come on, Tony. Time you were getting ready for school.’ He turned back to Anna and smiled down at her. ‘You stay here. When
the wife’s gone, I’ll come back and take you down to the cottage.’ He pulled a wry expression. ‘But it’s not much to look at.’

The man descended the ladder first and the boy followed, pausing briefly to smile back at her. Anna raised her hand and curled her fingers in a kind of wave, but could not summon an answering
smile.

‘It’s not much of a place,’ Eddie said again as they walked up the slope away from the farm, ‘but it’s in a good spot near the woods. Sheltered,
but very isolated.’ Anna felt his glance. ‘It’ll be lonely for you.’

That’ll suit me
, she thought, though she said nothing.

She had waited in the hayloft until she heard the trap rattle out of the yard, the sound of its wheels on the roadway receding into the distance. Only a moment later she had heard the man
calling softly from below. ‘Coast’s clear, lass.’

They walked on, but near the top of the hill Anna paused and looked back towards the farm where the man and his family lived. Cackle Hill Farm, for she had seen the name on the gate as they
left, was set against a background of trees, beyond which was the rolling countryside of the Lincolnshire Wolds. She turned and followed the man, who was still plodding to the top of the rise. When
they reached it, they both paused to take in the view below them. The land sloped away again and at the bottom of the track on this side of the hill Anna could see the outline of a cottage nestling
against a wooded area on the right from where she was standing. The land was cold and stark, the trees naked against the grey sky, but in spring and summer she guessed the view would be idyllic.
Just beyond the cottage she could see a stream bubbling down the hillside and disappearing round the far side of the wood. Sheep dotted the sloping fields and, for the first time in weeks, Anna
smiled.

‘You like it?’ Eddie asked gently. Anna jumped. For a moment she had forgotten he was there.

‘Oh! Oh yes.’ She nodded. ‘It was the sheep. I – I like sheep,’ she added diffidently.

Eddie nodded. ‘Mek you feel at home, d’they?’

Her smile faded and at once her face took on a closed look. ‘Something like that,’ she murmured and the man knew he had said the wrong thing. Silently, he vowed not to mention her
home, nor question her about her background. But he liked this lass. He wanted to help her. She was like a lost sheep herself and his tender heart reached out to her. He sighed. If only his wife
would be as kindly disposed towards her.