Red Sky in the Morning (28 page)

Bertha opened the door wider and smiled. Like a spider inviting a fly into its web, she said, ‘Come in, why don’t you?’

Out on the hillside, Anna wandered amongst the sheep checking them. From time to time she paused and looked back to watch Buster trailing after her, valiantly trying to keep
up.

‘Poor old feller,’ she murmured, bending down to stroke him. ‘You’re so weary now, aren’t you?’

The dog, who had been their faithful companion since just before Maisie’s birth, was old and worn out. Both Anna and Maisie knew he could not last many more years. Maybe he had only
months.

‘If he starts to suffer,’ Anna had explained carefully to Maisie, ‘we’ll have to let him be put down. It’s the kindest.’

With tears in her eyes, Maisie had nodded and buried her face in the dog’s coat.

Today Buster seemed slower than ever, but his heart was ‘as big as a bucket’, as Eddie said, and the dog was still trying to do his job.

‘Come on,’ Anna said, ‘let’s get you back inside near the fire and you can rest.’

As they made their way steadily back towards the cottage, Anna saw two men crest the top of the hill and begin to walk down the slope towards them. She shaded her eyes watching them.

Suddenly, her heart began to pound. No, it wasn’t possible. No, no,
no
!

She began to run towards the cottage. If she could just get inside before they reached her . . .

‘Come on, Buster. Come
on
!’ But the dog was too weak. His running days were over. She stopped and picked him up. Despite his frailty, he was still heavy. Clutching him
tightly, she struggled and stumbled towards the cottage, desperate to reach its safety. She was almost there, a few yards more and . . .

But the younger of the two men had broken into a run. He was gaining on her. She wasn’t going to reach the door. If she had dropped the dog to the ground and run, she could have made it.
But, remembering that other time, she held onto him. She couldn’t – wouldn’t – let the same thing happen to this Buster.

‘Now, now, Anna. What’s all this? Aren’t you pleased to see us?’

He had reached her and was standing between her and her haven. And now the older man was near and he was barring her escape to the side door.

Anna lay Buster on the ground and stood up to face the two men. ‘Leave me alone,’ she spat at them.

‘That’s no way to greet us, Anna,’ the older man said, ‘after all this time. We’ve been worried about you. Running off like that.’

Anna’s eyes narrowed with hatred. The younger man moved towards the dog, lying panting on the ground. He touched it with his foot and Buster growled.

‘Still got your brave little protector, eh, Anna?’ he sneered. He drew his foot back and aimed a vicious kick at the defenceless animal. Buster’s yelp galvanized Anna. She
flung herself at the man and began to pummel him.

‘Get away. Leave me alone. I hate you. I hate you.’

He was strong and stocky and, whilst Anna was no weakling, she was no match for his strength. He held her by the wrists quite easily. She kicked his shins, but he only laughed. That awful, cruel
laugh she remembered so vividly in all her dreams.

Anna began to scream, but he only laughed louder. ‘There’s no one to hear you, Anna.’

And all the time his father just stood watching.

At the moment when Anna almost gave up the struggle, she heard a shout from the top of the hill and saw Eddie and Maisie running towards her. The man, still holding Anna, turned.

‘You get the girl,’ he muttered to his father. ‘I’ll take care of him.’

He turned back and, raising his hand, dealt Anna a vicious blow on the side of her face, knocking her down. The blow had not quite knocked her out, but when she tried to rise she found she was
so dizzy that she sank back to the ground.

‘Mam!’ Through the mists she heard Maisie’s cry, but the girl never reached her. She was caught and held fast. ‘Now, now, lass. We only want to talk to your mam and
you.’

Dimly, Anna was aware that the younger of the two men and Eddie were facing each other like two fighting cocks, circling warily around each other.

The man reached into his pocket and flicked open a knife. ‘No!’ Maisie cried and struggled, but the big man held her fast. ‘Mr Eddie, he’s got a knife.’

Dully, her words registered with Anna and she tried to drag herself up. ‘No,’ she gasped. ‘No. Please, no more.’ She stumbled towards the one holding Maisie and clung to
his arm. ‘I’ll do whatever you want. I swear it, but make them stop. Don’t – don’t let him hurt Eddie.’

He looked down at her upturned face, the bruise on her cheek swelling already. His lip curled sarcastically. ‘Oh, so the woman was right, was she? You are his fancy piece.’

Anna shook her head, then winced as the pain stabbed. ‘No – no, you’ve got it wrong. I—’

Her words were cut short by a terrifying yell from behind her as the younger man leapt forward, stabbing with the knife.

‘No!’ The cry came from both Anna’s and Maisie’s lips at once.

But his blood was up. There was murder in his eyes. Even Eddie, quiet, gentle Eddie Appleyard’s face was thunderous. ‘I don’t know who you are, but you’re not going to
come here and treat her like that—’

Sudden realization was filtering through Eddie’s mind, even in this moment of danger. This, then, was what Anna had been afraid of. One glance at the face and red hair of the man facing
him told Eddie all he needed to know. This was the man Anna had run from and, by the look of it, she had had good reason.

There was no denying the likeness. The man threatening him with a knife was undoubtedly Maisie’s father.

‘Put the knife away, lad, and let’s talk this through,’ Eddie said, trying desperately to instil calm into his tone, though he would dearly have liked to knock this feller into
the middle of next week.

‘Talk?’ was the scathing answer. ‘Talk? What she needs is a damn good hiding. Show her who’s boss. By, I’ve waited years to catch up with that little madam. And now
I’ve found her. Well, she won’t escape me again.’

Suddenly he lunged forward, his knife thrusting towards Eddie. It found its mark, entering deep into Eddie’s body just below the ribs. Eddie gave a low grunt and his eyes stared in shocked
surprise before he crumpled to the ground.

Anna and Maisie cried out together and even the big man shouted, ‘No,’ as the knife went home. They heard him mutter, ‘You damned fool. What do you want to go and do that
for?’

His attacker was standing over the still figure, holding the knife covered in blood. Anna and Maisie tore themselves free and flung themselves down beside Eddie. Maisie cradled Eddie’s
head in her arms, whilst Anna tore open his clothing to see how bad the wound was. Blood spilled out drenching his clothes and hers.

‘Oh Eddie, Eddie,’ Anna moaned and closed her eyes.

Dimly, she heard one of them say, ‘Come on, we’d better get out of here. You’re a fool. You’ve wrecked everything.’

‘He was coming for me. It was self-defence.’

‘Don’t talk daft. He was unarmed.’ He nodded towards Anna. ‘She’ll tell ’em that. And the girl. Come on. Let’s get out of here.’

They ran up the hill and down into the farmyard and scrambled into the car. Bertha came out of the back door. ‘Find her, did you? I hope you’ve come to take the little trollop
away—’

‘Sorry, Missis. Can’t stay.’

The engine burst into life. The older man reversed the car erratically and, turning it, drove at speed towards the gate. Driving out into the lane without stopping to see if the way was clear,
the car clipped Tony returning on his motorbike, knocking him off balance. As the sports car roared off up the lane, Tony was thrown off his bike and onto the grass verge. His landing was soft and
he was unhurt but very angry. Swearing, he gained his feet in time to memorize the number plate.

‘Road hog,’ Tony shouted as he stood in the lane, shaking his fist after the disappearing vehicle.

Whilst over the hill, now cradled in Anna’s arms, Eddie Appleyard fought for his life.

‘Higher, Daddy, push me higher.’

The child on the swing, petticoats flying, swooped through the air.

Her father laughed. ‘You’re quite big enough to work it yourself now, Anna.’ But the ten-year-old smiled winningly and the man capitulated. ‘Hold tight, then.’

‘Oh, Ken, do be careful,’ May called anxiously, nibbling agitatedly at her thumbnail. ‘What if the branch breaks?’

Ken laughed. His tall frame was a little stooped, giving the deceptive appearance of frailty. His long face was thin, with hollowed cheeks, but his grey eyes were kind and gentle. He worked in
an office in the city of Lincoln and perhaps that was why his skin had a sallow look. Ken stepped back from the swing, letting it slow down of its own accord.

‘Daddy?’ Anna cried plaintively, but her father only laughed. ‘Enough now, love. Your gran will have tea ready and then we must catch the bus back home.’

Anna pouted, but then her sunny nature drove away the brief moment of petulance. She put her feet to the ground and slowed the swing even more. Jumping up, she ran to her parents, pushing her
way between them, and linked her arms in theirs.

Mother and daughter were remarkably alike, with black, curling hair and smooth skin. But their most outstanding feature was the colour of their eyes: a dark blue, almost violet. Most people,
meeting them for the first time, could not help remarking on the unusual, yet beautiful, colour.

As they arrived at the back door of the farmhouse, May’s mother, Rosa, met them.

‘Perfect timing.’ The plump, placid-faced woman beamed. ‘Tea’s ready.’

They sat down at the huge kitchen table, with Luke Clayton at the head whilst his wife sat at the opposite end.

‘The news isn’t good,’ he began as he carved a huge piece of boiled ham and passed plates around the table.

‘Help yourselves to potatoes,’ Rosa said. ‘Now, Luke, I don’t want any talk of war round my table, thank you. And certainly not in front of the child.’

‘I thought everything was all right now, Dad,’ May put in, ‘since Mr Chamberlain came back from Munich last year.’

The two men exchanged a sober look.

‘That agreement, or whatever it was, wasn’t worth the paper it was written on,’ Luke grunted. He turned to smile at his granddaughter. ‘That enough ham for you,
lass?’

‘Yes thank you, Grandpa.’ Anna smiled at the weather-beaten face with its deep lines, at the snowy white, bristly moustache that tickled her when she kissed his cheek.

Ken turned towards his wife and touched her hand lightly. ‘It was in all the papers yesterday. Hitler has marched into Czechoslovakia.’

May gasped and the colour fled from her face. ‘You mean there’s going to be a war?’

Again the two men glanced at each other.

May’s voice rose. ‘Tell me. I want to know.’

‘Now, now, love,’ Rosa said, passing the vegetables. ‘Don’t get all het up about things that don’t concern us.’

May rounded on her mother, anxiety making her speak sharply. ‘Of course it concerns us, Mam. If there’s a war, Ken might have to go.’ Then, as if contradicting herself, May
grasped her husband’s arm. ‘You won’t, will you?’ Clinging to any hope she could think of, she said, ‘Besides, you’re too old, aren’t you?’

Ken cleared his throat and glanced round the table in embarrassment, wishing that his father-in-law had not raised the subject. ‘There’s talk of more recruits being sought to join
the Territorials. I – I thought I might volunteer.’

May gave a little squeak and covered her mouth with her hand, staring with wide-eyed disbelief at her husband. ‘Whatever for?’ she whispered. ‘Why do you want to go and do
something like that?’

Luke sniffed. ‘Well, if you’d take a bit of advice from an old soldier who was daft enough to volunteer for the last lot—’

‘Aye, off you went to war and left me with May to bring up. She was only six when you went,’ Rosa began, wagging her finger across the table at her husband. Then she smiled.
‘Mind you, I was that proud of you the day we came to wave you off. Marching away to serve your country.’ She shook her head, remembering. Tears filled her eyes as she murmured,
‘And then, all them medals you got—’

‘Well, I don’t care about uniforms and medals,’ May declared. ‘I don’t want Ken to go. He might not be as lucky as Dad.’

The unspoken words lay heavily in the air.

‘Aye,’ Luke said softly. ‘I was lucky to come back and without serious injury, an’ all. I know that.’ He turned towards his son-in-law. When Ken had first started
courting his daughter, Luke had not been at all keen on the young man. Ken Milton was a city lad, with no interest in the country or the farm. With an only daughter, it had been Luke’s
dearest wish that May would marry a local farmer who would take on Clayton’s Farm in the future. But May had been drawn to city life, though how she could enjoy living in those crowded
streets, which were never quiet day or night, beat Luke. Yet now, as he looked at his son-in-law, Luke felt a fondness for the lad he had not known before. Ken was a good husband to May, Luke
acknowledged that. And together they were bringing up a lovely daughter, Anna, who was Luke’s pride and joy.

‘Don’t volunteer, lad. That’s my advice.’ Grandpa Luke’s face was unusually grim. ‘Patriotism is all very well and I’d be the first to defend me country
from attack – even at my age.’ He shook his head. ‘But volunteering gets a lot of good fellers killed. Wait till you ’ave to go and not afore. Wait till they send for
you.’ His tone was grim as he added, ‘’Cos believe me, they will. If it really comes to war, they’ll have to bring in conscription – just like they had to last
time.’

Anna’s wide-eyed glance went at once to her father’s solemn face as he rose from the table. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m afraid if it does come to war, I shall
go.’

At the sound of May’s startled gasp, Anna turned to see that her mother’s face had turned deathly white.

On the bus home, her parents scarcely spoke to each other. Her mother looked out of the window and her father stared straight ahead. Sitting on the seat in front of them, Anna shivered. The
pleasure of the day had turned suddenly cold.