this afternoon.’
Rose and Annie were alone in the kitchen making tea. Madge was supposed to come back after helping to wash the dinner dishes at about two o’clock.
‘Maybe they had something on,’ she said.
‘And maybe they didn’t,’ her mother said, gingerly putting the scones on to a wire rack to cool.
‘What do you mean?’
Her mother shot her a telling look.
‘I think Madge has taken a shine to young Frank. If we could afford it I’d have her back at home. Goodness knows I could do with her here. I’m trying to find her something else.’
‘Frank? Frank wouldn’t look at Madge.’
‘Why wouldn’t he? She’s coming up fifteen and she has that way of looking at men through her eyelashes that gives me the collywobbles.’
Annie half-wanted to laugh but she knew that her mother was serious. She was also a little bit jealous. She didn’t particularly like Frank but she didn’t want him to like her sister better than he liked her.
‘It’s dangerous, Annie, I wish there was something I could do.’
‘Frank’s not dangerous,’ Annie said, laughing.
‘He might be if he knew Madge liked him. His family aren’t rich like they used to be but they still own most of the dale including this place. I don’t want Madge mixed up in anything like that. This is our home.’
‘If you take her away from there Mr Harlington would probably be offended. They pay better than the Vanes pay me so he wouldn’t think you had a good reason and she likes being there.’
‘Yes, I noticed,’ her mother said.
Annie looked critically at Frank the next time she saw him. He walked his dogs around to the farm almost every day and it was only a few days later. Annie had her dog with her and he patted Rufus and smiled and Annie thought, yes, she could see how Madge might like him. He was almost finished school, talking about university and he had breeding. He was tall and slender and wore shabby expensive clothes. He had warm brown eyes and a shy smile, he spoke well without a local accent. He had grace in his walk and bearing, his hands were fine from never doing any work and there was that sadness about him which she knew came from the way he loved his parents which would appeal to a girl like Madge.
‘People who drink too much don’t care about food,’ he had confided to Annie. ‘It spoils the pleasure of the alcohol.’
He knew too much about things like that for somebody his age, Annie thought, shuddering. She was glad that her parents didn’t go on like that or like Alistair’s. No wonder Alistair and Frank liked to come to the small farm where there was little money but kind people who were trying hard, to her mother’s meals made with love and her mother singing in the kitchen.
It was not always like that of course, they fought quite a lot being so many of them and her mother had a quick Irish temper and her father a slow dales one which made for some lively battles and she and Madge being of an age fought and sometimes even Elsie joined in, throwing things without thought. Blake never fought but then he was never entirely one of the family and when arguments started he would go to his tiny bedroom and read. Sometimes Annie sat up there with him on the single bed and talked. She didn’t think it was ever anything important, not like when she talked to Alistair who was now into politics and music and art and it was not gossip such as she talked with the family and obviously it was not the same things as she talked about with other girls. It was just general stuff about the farm and the horses and the day-to-day things. As the year progressed it got colder and colder in Blake’s room but they went on sitting there in the evening until her mother said, ‘I think you ought to come downstairs to talk to Blake.’
‘Why?’
‘I just think you should.’
‘We can’t talk the same with Elsie and Madge there.’
Tommy wasn’t often in the house. He was in the local silver band by now and went
Rose and Annie were alone in the kitchen making tea. Madge was supposed to come back after helping to wash the dinner dishes at about two o’clock.
‘Maybe they had something on,’ she said.
‘And maybe they didn’t,’ her mother said, gingerly putting the scones on to a wire rack to cool.
‘What do you mean?’
Her mother shot her a telling look.
‘I think Madge has taken a shine to young Frank. If we could afford it I’d have her back at home. Goodness knows I could do with her here. I’m trying to find her something else.’
‘Frank? Frank wouldn’t look at Madge.’
‘Why wouldn’t he? She’s coming up fifteen and she has that way of looking at men through her eyelashes that gives me the collywobbles.’
Annie half-wanted to laugh but she knew that her mother was serious. She was also a little bit jealous. She didn’t particularly like Frank but she didn’t want him to like her sister better than he liked her.
‘It’s dangerous, Annie, I wish there was something I could do.’
‘Frank’s not dangerous,’ Annie said, laughing.
‘He might be if he knew Madge liked him. His family aren’t rich like they used to be but they still own most of the dale including this place. I don’t want Madge mixed up in anything like that. This is our home.’
‘If you take her away from there Mr Harlington would probably be offended. They pay better than the Vanes pay me so he wouldn’t think you had a good reason and she likes being there.’
‘Yes, I noticed,’ her mother said.
Annie looked critically at Frank the next time she saw him. He walked his dogs around to the farm almost every day and it was only a few days later. Annie had her dog with her and he patted Rufus and smiled and Annie thought, yes, she could see how Madge might like him. He was almost finished school, talking about university and he had breeding. He was tall and slender and wore shabby expensive clothes. He had warm brown eyes and a shy smile, he spoke well without a local accent. He had grace in his walk and bearing, his hands were fine from never doing any work and there was that sadness about him which she knew came from the way he loved his parents which would appeal to a girl like Madge.
‘People who drink too much don’t care about food,’ he had confided to Annie. ‘It spoils the pleasure of the alcohol.’
He knew too much about things like that for somebody his age, Annie thought, shuddering. She was glad that her parents didn’t go on like that or like Alistair’s. No wonder Alistair and Frank liked to come to the small farm where there was little money but kind people who were trying hard, to her mother’s meals made with love and her mother singing in the kitchen.
It was not always like that of course, they fought quite a lot being so many of them and her mother had a quick Irish temper and her father a slow dales one which made for some lively battles and she and Madge being of an age fought and sometimes even Elsie joined in, throwing things without thought. Blake never fought but then he was never entirely one of the family and when arguments started he would go to his tiny bedroom and read. Sometimes Annie sat up there with him on the single bed and talked. She didn’t think it was ever anything important, not like when she talked to Alistair who was now into politics and music and art and it was not gossip such as she talked with the family and obviously it was not the same things as she talked about with other girls. It was just general stuff about the farm and the horses and the day-to-day things. As the year progressed it got colder and colder in Blake’s room but they went on sitting there in the evening until her mother said, ‘I think you ought to come downstairs to talk to Blake.’
‘Why?’
‘I just think you should.’
‘We can’t talk the same with Elsie and Madge there.’
Tommy wasn’t often in the house. He was in the local silver band by now and went
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