Saddle the Wind (20 page)

Later, when midday dinner was over Agnes cleared the table while Arthur took Blanche to Sunday school. A little while after Arthur’s return Fanny came to the cottage and Ernest put on his coat saying that he and Fanny would meet Blanche from class and take her for a walk before tea. Agnes said she would go with them.

When Blanche emerged from the small church she found the others waiting, and with Ernest determining the way, the four set off. They went first into a small wood where they tramped over the fallen leaves down to the river. There Ernest enthusiastically pointed out a family of coot, thirteen of them swimming in the water,
and then, high up in the sky above the water meadows, a kestrel hunting for food. While Agnes showed interest in it all, however, Blanche remained silently detached and seemed to pay little heed.

On the way back they followed a bridle path at the edge of a field and joined the road halfway down Gorse Hill. As they emerged through the stile in the hedgerow Blanche came to a stop and looked up towards the hilltop where, beyond the rise and the trees, stood Hallowford House. Ernest, turning beside Fanny and Agnes, called back, ‘Come on, Blanche – let’s get on ‘ome for tea. I’m getting hungry.’

But Blanche remained where she was and after a moment Ernest left the others and moved back to her side. Crouching down before her he looked into her eyes.

‘What is it, Blanche?’ he said. ‘What’s the matter?’ He had always been able to reach her.

She shook her head, saying nothing.

‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

‘– There’s nothing to tell.’

‘Are you sure?’

She didn’t answer. He looked at her standing there, preoccupation in her face – and some other expression of concern – out of place in a child so young. He sighed and said, ‘Well, we’d better get back to the others.’ He was about to get up then, but Blanche reached out and took his sleeve.

‘I don’t want anyone to feel pity for me, Ernie,’ she said. ‘Not ever.’

‘No, of course you don’t.’ He frowned, smiling at the same time. ‘But why should they?’

She was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘You know, Ernie, it’s very different up at the house. It’s very different from at the cottage.’

He nodded. ‘Ah, I daresay it is, Blanche.’

‘Yes. We haven’t got all the nice things they’ve got there, Ernie. Why not? Why can’t we have those things too?’

He put his arms around her. ‘Oh, Blanche – I’m afraid we just can’t afford ‘em. That’s the truth of it.’

‘It’s not fair, is it?’

He shrugged. ‘No, maybe it’s not, but we ‘aven’t got the money, and that’s all there is to it. I’m afraid we’re not rich like Mr Savill.’

‘Yes – he’s rich, isn’t he – Mr Savill?’

‘Ah, I reckon so.’

She nodded. ‘Yes. I never thought about it before. But I’ve been thinking about it – since Miss Baker went yesterday.’

‘Miss Baker? What’s she got to do with anything?’

‘People can’t help being poor, can they?’

‘No, I don’t suppose they can. If they could they’d do something about it.’

‘What would they do?’

‘Well – get rich, I s’pose.’

‘Yes. That’s how you get a fine house, with carriages and horses and all those things. That’s how you’re able to travel, isn’t it? To go to London and Sicily and those places.’

He wondered what Sicily had to do with anything, then he said, ‘Yes, you need a lot of money for those things.’

She nodded; then: ‘D’you like looking after Mr Harker’s cattle, Ernie?’

He gave a short laugh. ‘
Like
it? Well, I can’t say as I like it that much. But it’s better than some things.’

‘It’s not better than being a doctor, though, is it?’

‘– A doctor. Oh, no, I reckon that’d be much better. Why d’you ask that?’

‘Agnes told me that you want to be a doctor one day.’

‘Ah, well, that was a while back – when I didn’t know
any better. I didn’t realize then that you need a lot of money to learn to be a doctor.’

‘If you were rich like Mr Savill, though, you’d be able to, wouldn’t you? – learn how to be a doctor.’

‘Yeh, I reckon I would. But we’re not, so I’ll just have to be a stockman, wun I?’

‘Mr Savill doesn’t have to work nearly every day like you, you know. Lots of days he doesn’t work at all.’

‘No, well, lucky for ‘im.’

Blanche stood in silence for some moments, taking in his words, then, her voice resolute, she said, ‘I’m going to be rich one day too, Ernie. And when I am I’ll give you the money to go and learn about medicine and being a doctor. I’ll have the money to do whatever I like. I’ll have a house like Mr Savill’s, with lots of rooms and nice furniture. I shall. And I shall have lots of nice clothes, and servants, and friends who come to call on me in their carriages.’

‘Will you indeed?’ Ernest said, smiling. ‘Well, I hope one day you will.’

‘I shall, Ernie, I shall. I’ll have anything I want, and I’ll do anything I want to do.’

He chuckled and gently touched his hand to her cheek. ‘Maybe, maybe. But you’re gunna ‘ave to saddle the wind before you can ride it, my dear.’

The sound of the piano came to them as they entered the cottage on their return. They took off their coats, hats and boots and went into the front room where Sarah was sitting at the piano. To her accompaniment she and Arthur were singing ‘I Will Meet You in the Twilight’. Ernest, Fanny and the two girls sat on the sofa. When the song had ended Ernest called on Sarah to sing again, to which Arthur added, ‘Yes, sing “Comin’ Thro the Rye”.’ ‘Oh, no,’ Sarah said, ‘– not that old
thing.’ She opened before her a piece of sheet music, played the introduction and began to sing:

Lucy and John from the village,
Were in love and engaged to be wed:
But up went the nose of sweet Lucy,
At what John of some other girl said.
John smiled, much given to teasing,
Then softly he started to sing,
Till Lucy with rage growing warmer,
Threw down their engagement ring.

Ernest, getting up and moving to Sarah’s side, joined in the song, taking the man’s part. Taking alternate lines he and Sarah sang:

‘I won’t be your wife,’ said Lucy,
‘Thank goodness for that,’ said John.
‘I hate such a brute,’ said Lucy,
‘But other girls don’t,’ said John.
‘I’m going back to the dairy.’
‘Perhaps it’s as well,’ said he,
‘But I hope you will come to the wedding
Of Molly Malone and me.’

There was laughter at the end of the song and then Sarah called on Blanche to come to the piano. Blanche, who sang and played well for her age, usually joined in with the music at the cottage when she came down on a Sunday. Today, though, she shook her head, remaining where she was. After a moment Agnes got up and took Sarah’s place. She played while she sang in her light, clear soprano, ‘The Stream in the Valley’, Ernest, Fanny and Arthur joining in the chorus:

Oh, stream in the valley, so lovely and bright!
I wander beside thee with joy and delight!

Sarah, moving to the doorway, turned and looked at Blanche as she sat in silence; then she left the room and went into the kitchen.

She was setting the table when Ernest came out to her. He told her of his conversation with Blanche. Sarah stood still, listening in silence. Then she finished preparing the tea and called the others in from the parlour. At her voice they left off singing and came into the kitchen. All except Blanche. Sarah, going back into the little parlour, found her sitting on the sofa gazing out of the window.

‘Blanche,’ she said, moving towards her, ‘aren’t you coming to have your tea? I made you a vanilla cake – your favourite.’

Blanche said nothing.

‘Blanche – what’s wrong?’ Sarah said. ‘You’re unhappy about something. What is it?’

‘Nothing.’

A little silence went by, then, putting some brightness into her voice, Sarah said,

‘So – what shall you be doing tomorrow?’

‘I don’t know. Mr Savill’s going to find us a new governess.’

‘Yes, Ernest tells me that Miss Baker has gone. You never mentioned it. When did she go?’

‘Yesterday.’ Then vehemently Blanche added, ‘I didn’t like her. I’m glad she’s gone. I’m
glad
!’

‘– Why didn’t you like her?’

‘She wasn’t nice. Still, Mr Savill said I must forget all about it – the things she said.’

‘– Oh? What did she say?’

‘She said Mr Savill pitied me, and that was the only reason I was at the house. Because he felt pity for me.’

‘– She said that?’

‘Yes, but Mr Savill said it wasn’t true, and that I wasn’t to think about it.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, she’s gone now, and I’m glad.’ She sat in silence for a moment then added: ‘She said I belonged in the gutter.’

Sarah felt herself go cold. With sudden tears starting in her eyes she reached out and drew Blanche to her. For a moment she held her in her arms, and then Blanche broke away and started towards the door. ‘I’d better go and have my tea,’ she said.

For a few minutes after Blanche had gone from the room Sarah continued to sit there. Then with a sigh she got up and followed her into the kitchen.

When tea was over Sarah went out to the scullery where she began to wash the dishes, joined a moment later by Agnes. As they stood there Ernest came out, took the dish towel from Agnes’s hand and said to her, ‘You go and get ready for church, Aggie. I’ll do this.’ At his words Agnes readily relinquished the task and went away. Ernest began to dry the plates. After a few moments he set down the dish he had just dried, closed the door leading into the kitchen, then said to Sarah,

‘I wouldn’t worry about Blanche, Mam.’

Sarah sighed. ‘Oh, Ernest, she’s so unhappy. Though after what the governess said to her it’s hardly to be wondered at. It’s more than that, though.’

‘Oh? – what is it?’

‘I think now she realizes that she’s only a – a guest up there at the house. She’s not a part of it.’ She shook her head. ‘And in a way I’m glad. It’s time she was aware of the situation. All the while she’s been there it’s just been setting her further apart from the rest of us.’

‘She’ll be all right again as time goes on.’

‘No, that’s the trouble, don’t you see? Too much time has gone by already.’

Later on Sarah and Blanche set off up the hill. Sarah’s thoughts were in a turmoil. After a while they reached the house, entered by the side door and started across the yard, Blanche a little ahead. Sarah observed the slight air of eagerness in Blanche’s steps and called after her.

‘Blanche …’

Blanche came to a halt.

‘I want to talk to you for a minute,’ Sarah said.

‘What about?’

Sarah shook her head. ‘Not here.’ She looked about her then nodded in the direction of the garden. ‘Let’s go over there for a minute.’

Blanche shrugged, took the hand that Sarah held out to her and together they walked across the yard.

Sarah led her towards the kitchen garden. There in a little area screened by the shrubbery she came to a stop. Blanche stopped beside her and looked up at her in puzzlement.

‘I just wanted somewhere where I could talk to you in private for a moment or two,’ Sarah said; then: ‘Are you warm enough?’

‘Yes.’ Blanche frowned. ‘What is it, Mama?’

Sarah gazed at her in silence for long moments, trying to find the right words, then she said simply:

‘I want you to live at home again, Blanche.’

Blanche stared up at her for a second then cried out loudly, ‘No!
No!
’

The words felt like a wound in Sarah’s heart and she felt tears well up in her eyes. She blinked them away. ‘I’m sorry, Blanche. I know how you love it here but – well, it’s time you came home.’

‘No, please …’ Blanche shook her head from side to side. ‘Please, Mama, no …’

Sarah shrugged. ‘I’m sorry …’

‘But I like it here. I do.’

‘I know that. But you’ve already been here too long. And it’s time you came home.’ Raising her head slightly, Sarah could see the roof of the tall house above the shrubbery in between. ‘You don’t belong here. You belong with us at the cottage.’

Blanche looked away. ‘Mr Savill said that one day I would have to go back home again. I didn’t think it would be yet.’

Sarah said nothing. Blanche turned back and looked up at her. ‘Is Mr Savill sending me away?’

‘Oh, no, no. Mr Savill is very fond of you.’

‘Then – why?’

‘I told you – you don’t belong here. This isn’t your home. Your home is with us, down at the cottage.’

‘Does Mr Savill know – that I have to leave here?’

‘I haven’t spoken to him about it yet.’

A pause. ‘When do I have to go?’

‘Well, I thought – oh, wait another four or five weeks and come back in time for Christmas. You’ll be nine years old then.’

‘What about my lessons?’

‘– We’ll see about those.’ Sarah stood looking down at the little stranger who was her daughter, then bent to her and put her hands on her shoulders. ‘Listen to me,’ she said softly. ‘You’ve been living here for many years now, Blanche. But it’s not your home.’

‘No – I know, but –’ Blanche’s brow creased with worry, ‘– but you get used to things, Mama.’

‘Yes, I know.’

Blanche gave a deep sigh. ‘I didn’t think it would change. I thought it would go on for ever.’

‘Yes – I’m sorry.’ Sarah gave a little shake of her head. ‘Oh, I know that at the cottage we haven’t got all the nice things there are at Mr Savill’s, but – even so, we shall be happy together. You, me, Ernest, Arthur and Agnes. We’ll all be together, and – and that’s how families should be. You’ll be happy, I promise you – you wait and see. Just give it a chance.’ She looked into the child’s blue eyes. ‘Will you?’

Blanche nodded her head. ‘Yes, Mama.’

A few minutes later as Sarah walked back down the hill she felt her spirits lifting. The decision had been made, and Blanche, in spite of her initial reaction, had accepted it. It was going to be all right. Just another month or so and Blanche would come back to the cottage – and this time it would be for good. And, yes, it would be hard for the child at first, but she would settle. She would accept the change, in time.

Sarah suddenly thought of Blanche’s question regarding her school lessons. She would take care of that too. She would go and see Mr Savill during the next two or three weeks. Perhaps he would agree to Blanche still going to the house for her tuition for a time. That way Blanche’s education could continue and the strain of her leaving would be less severe.