The Trouble with Polly Brown (93 page)

“Please, please, Mrs. Pickletree. We earnestly beg you to give us much more homework,” they often cried. Needless to say, Mrs. Pickletree always responded by sticking both fingers in her ears, as she absolutely refused to listen to such things, her main objection being that too much homework would make the girls both boring and dull. She remained totally adamant that both girls were to expend all excess energy in developing other recreational skills. Although her refusal to oblige quite clearly flummoxed both girls, it still did nothing to prevent them from regularly imploring dear, sweet Mrs. Penelope Pickletree for lots of extra homework to be given to each of them.

The girls would often see Giles around the large thatched cottage as he happily busied himself doing the more menial jobs of a handyman. He would often stop what he was doing to offer them a treacle toffee or other boiled sweet or two. Here at this special house, even Lady Butterkist managed to make herself useful by popping a pinny 'round her ample waist before she plunged her hands into the washing-up bowl or flew 'round the kitchen with a drying-up cloth as, like a busy bee, she helped other staff with the clearing up.

It seemed that no task was considered too lowly or too mighty that it could not be done by anyone and everyone living on the farm. Polly quickly became aware that every person she had occasion to work with had learned to give honor and respect where it was due, and that really meant to everyone they had occasion to meet or work with. The evidence of this mainly unspoken belief was the ease and friendship that freely flowed between all.

It was true that each morning before they sat down to eat breakfast, Aunt Bessie's voice could be heard above all others, as with the same message each day she called out across the tables. “Good morn' to all you luverly people, and let's remember to treat everyone we meet with the same patience and grace that we would hope for them to treat us. So with that said, let us now start the day by thanking the good Lord for the food spread before us, and may I remind the golden oldies amongst us to thank Him with much gratitude for the privilege of having a few teeth left in our gobs so as to enable us to chew on this good food.”

Polly never failed to hide a hysterical giggle as time after time Aunt Bessie made it her business to remind the more mature among them to even be grateful for all remaining teeth.

Polly would, over time, learn much of the private sufferings of others, and she became very friendly with three delightful girls from southern Ireland. She listened, feeling most intrigued as the girls, with their delightful accents, spoke so lovingly about their homeland. These girls may well have had their personal struggles to overcome, but they also had the biggest hearts Polly had ever known. They were always laughing and giggling and telling strange Irish tales. Polly could never quite decide if they were true or whether they were simply concocting stories as they playfully messed with her. Once Polly and Lucy had mastered these girls' unusual accents, they wasted no time whatsoever in joining up with them.

During their stay there seemed to be at least one birthday a week, if not more, and as every birthday was considered most important, it was seen as completely natural for a party to take place. Before long, Polly had been invited to so many birthday parties that it did much to make up for all the ones she'd missed out on over the years due to her penny-pinching guardians' total abhorrence at parting with money under any circumstances. Also, at these parties it was decreed that all in the house should exchange gifts, so yet again everybody went away feeling as though it had been their party as they reveled in some most desirable gift they would now treasure forever.

Many weeks into her stay, while she sat at the dining table, she came to the realization that she loved each and every one of the other children, as well as the staff who regularly worked alongside to help restore and rebuild their confidence. The staff, many of whom were quite young in years, were so kind and remarkably patient, especially if one of the youngsters found himself or herself struggling with some unfamiliar task they believed themselves to be totally worthless or otherwise incapable of undertaking or fulfilling. No one here mocked and jeered, pulled hair, or did anything threatening. No, never! For none among them would even think of being so wickedly mean.

Polly came to believe that concerning the young people who shared the house, most, if not all, had suffered deeply shattered lives that included a wealth of cruelty, so none in the tiny community wished for a continuation of such things. They had indeed replaced all forms of hate with love and affection and bitterness with kindness, anger with tolerance, and so forth. Therefore, the atmosphere permeating throughout the farmhouse was, in Polly's own words, “deliciously warm and squidgy.”

For her part, Lady Butterkist kept a beady eye on both girls until she was satisfied that they no longer had any real need of her.

One day in mid July she took it upon herself to call Polly into the drawing room, as she wished to talk most privately with her.

“Polly dear, I asked you here with a specific reason in mind, for today you will not be working in the orchards or on the farm. I hope you don't mind, but I took it upon myself to invite someone very special to come and pay you a timely visit.”

Polly immediately looked extremely anxious and concerned.

“Oh, Lady B., who on earth could this be?” she cried. “So please don't hold back, or else I will surely die from anxiety, if not from intrigue.”

No sooner had those words passed from her lips than she made a loud gasp.

“Will, is that really you?” she cried, her eyes immediately misting over as she looked over in the direction of the door.

“Indeed it is, Polly,” he answered as he raced over to give her a warm, friendly hug.

“Oh, Polly. Forgive me everything, for now I know the truth. I am so thoroughly ashamed of myself, and—”

Polly placed a finger over his lips. “Enough, Will. Enough! For it is just so wonderful to see you once more, and I have to say, you're looking more, well, how shall I put it? Hmm, more gorgeous than ever,” she giggled, turning a deep scarlet. “I can't believe I just said that!” she gasped as she turned to Lady Butterkist for additional help.

“Well, Polly, as we all know, you've always been one for wearing the whole of your heart on your sleeve, so I for one would hesitate before joining any secret society with you, my dear,” she quipped.

“Too right!” Will interjected.

“Yes, they'd have no need to interrogate you, for you'd offer up everything before they even had the temerity to ask,” she mused. “Anyway, I am going to leave you two alone for a while, as I am certain you have much catching up to do. Oh, and William dear, there is an extra place at the table for both lunch and supper, and then Giles will do the decent thing and drive you home.”

“Thank you, Lady B. I am forever indebted to you.”

“Nonsense, young man, for I believe it to be my utmost privilege to finally bring together what others have most wickedly sought to divide asunder. Now then, Polly, my dear one, I will bring you both some hot tea, as well as a slice of Aunt Bessie's homemade fruitcake, and then perhaps you might like to take a stroll around this wonderful manor house and show William all there is to see. I think he will particularly take a liking to the farmyard, and maybe you could consider going on something of an apple scrumping expedition in the orchard and bring back some deliciously ripe apples for William to take home to his mother and brother. Perhaps later on today we could pop out and get ourselves a scrumptious, hot tiddy oggy,” she brightly suggested.

“Yes, Lady B. I think that's a grand idea.”

The hours seemed more like minutes to Polly as she talked with Will as they slowly strolled down to the orchard. “Go on, Will. You climb the tree and throw down the apples for me to catch,” she suggested, “for my stomach is full of butterflies, so I really don't feel up to the task.”

“Nonsense, Polly! If we're going to have the audacity to scrump at all, then at least have the decency to come up here and join me. That way we can scrump properly,” he roguishly demanded. This left Polly with no choice but to climb up the tree to join him as she then set about doing her fair share of the apple scrumping.

They continued to share as they made their way back toward the thatched farmhouse to get ready for a little outing with her ladyship. On the way back to the house Polly could not help but feel sad when he finally got around to confessing that he had tried to visit her at the hospital.

“I'm so sorry, Polly. When the nurse opened the door and I caught sight of you standing all alone in front of that disgracefully straggly Christmas tree, it was more than I could bear. Really, it was.”

“Please, Will. You don't have to explain,” she consoled.

“Oh, but I do, Polly, for when you didn't write to thank me for my gift and card, well, I presumed that due to everything that had happened between us you had now deliberately come to the conclusion that it was in your best interest to cut me out of your life for good.”

“What? Will, I promise you I never received anything from you, or anyone else for that matter, so I had no idea that you still cared about me.”

“Oh, Polly, of course I care. I promise, hand on heart, that I sent some beautifully gift-wrapped chocolates, and they were very expensive, I'll have you know.”

“Oh, thank you, Will. I know I would have truly appreciated them.”

“Don't mention it. And as for the card, well, I spent over an hour in the store as I deliberated which card to send, for it was of the utmost importance to find the perfect card with the right greeting inside that would truly touch you as well as represent me.”

“Well, I promise you, Will, I never received the card or the gift, so in the end, like everything else I guess, if I'm to be perfectly honest, yes, I gave up on you.”

“I thought as much.”

“I guess that makes us quits, don't you think?”

“I believe it does.”

“Well then, no more reminiscing and punishing ourselves. Let's lay every stupid little niggle and misunderstanding aside and just enjoy this most precious moment in time, shall we?”

“Yes, Polly. I wholeheartedly agree,” he said, looking visibly relieved. “Come on, Polly. You'll have to walk a lot faster, for I can see both Giles and Lady B. impatiently standing by their old jalopy as they wait on us.”

The outing was wonderful as they took in the picturesque countryside on that warm and hazy summer afternoon. Lady Butterkist made sure that Will finally got to taste his first genuine Cornish tiddy oggy, and his verdict was the same as everyone else's, for he declared that they were indeed truly scrumptious!

That magical day seemed far too short for both Polly and Will, and after saying their good-byes, Will promised not only to keep in touch but also to save her a seat in the dining room on their first day back at school.

“Will, at present I have no idea as to when the first day back at school is,” Polly freely admitted.

“Oh, if I'm right, I do believe it's the ninth of September.”

“Good, then I'll see you on the ninth, William Montgomery, and on fear of death by means most foul and unpleasant, please remember to save me some treacle pud!”

“You bet!” he happily responded as, giving her a long and final wave, he slid into the backseat of Lady Butterkist's old jalopy to then hurriedly close the door.