his face.
‘It’s the suddenness, stupid. You took me by surprise. How could anyone want me?’ Daisy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t know: what do I say?’ She
pulled on his hand and did a little jig, assessing her feelings and what she should say. ‘But, yes; my answer is yes . . . Of course it’s yes! And I’ll be the perfect wife and
I’ll always be there for you, no matter what anyone says about the age difference.’
Bob lifted Daisy off her feet and swung her round like a twirling roundabout, her skirts billowing in the wind as they hugged and hugged again.
‘I’ll always be there for you, Daisy. I’ll never let you down, and you’ll want for nothing, my love. You’ve made this old bachelor a very happy man.’ He
squeezed her tightly and grinned, because he’d got his woman.
Daisy hummed and sang under her breath all the way back to her room at Gearstones, giving the drinkers standing outside the alehouse a more than generous welcome, before going
inside to the main house and climbing the stairs to flop onto her bed. She was to be married – and have a house of her own – with a man she knew would look after her and treat her
right. She lay on the metal-sprung bed that creaked at every turn, and looked around the room that had been her home for the three years that she had been at Gearstones Lodge.
They had been good years, full to the brim with events, despite there being illness, poverty and despair as navvies lost their lives building the iron rail-line through the Dales. But along with
the bad times came hope and friendship, especially the friendship and support that the Pratt family had shown her. She remembered the morning she’d crept downstairs to witness Jenny and Mike
talking about her, and how she had thought how crude and rough Jenny was. In fact she’d been just the opposite, and had shown Daisy nothing but kindness. A pang of guilt washed over her.
She’d have to tell Jenny of her plans to marry Bob. Once she was married she’d have her own house to run, and she wouldn’t have time to work at Gearstones Lodge. Her place was by
her man’s side, attending to his every need in the square-built house that she knew to be the signalman’s, across the track from the signal box at Blea Moor. She wouldn’t be on
her own, as there were two small cottages for the plate-layers and their families nearby, and she knew both families well. Thoughts about planning her wedding dress, and decorating her house,
danced around her head as she tossed and turned. She tried hard to find sleep, knowing that she had to be awake early because it was Ivy’s day off and she was the cook in the morning.
Morning came all too soon, as the grey fingers of dawn crept into Daisy’s bedroom. She felt tired and didn’t want to go down to the kitchen and start her usual routine. She eased her
body out of bed and smiled again at the thought of marrying Bob, then splashed her face in cold water from the ewer on her washstand. Pulling back the curtains, she let the morning’s weak
light in and gazed at the flanks of Whernside. The huge mountain outline was crisp and sharp in the morning’s light, but soon she’d be waking up in her own home directly under its
menacing scars, then making breakfast for her man and cleaning the house. She’d never thought that day would come.
The warmth from the kitchen met her as she crept downstairs and set about the business of lighting the oven. The previous day’s embers were still glowing slightly as she laid new kindling
and punched the bellows, to get a good roar from the flames. The lodge was quiet – not a sound was to be heard. It would be like that for some time yet, and Daisy appreciated the time to
herself. She’d loved this kitchen, and the hours she’d spent in it since her arrival that stormy night. Her thoughts often wandered back to her home – back to the days when her
father had been her best friend and protector – and then
‘It’s the suddenness, stupid. You took me by surprise. How could anyone want me?’ Daisy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t know: what do I say?’ She
pulled on his hand and did a little jig, assessing her feelings and what she should say. ‘But, yes; my answer is yes . . . Of course it’s yes! And I’ll be the perfect wife and
I’ll always be there for you, no matter what anyone says about the age difference.’
Bob lifted Daisy off her feet and swung her round like a twirling roundabout, her skirts billowing in the wind as they hugged and hugged again.
‘I’ll always be there for you, Daisy. I’ll never let you down, and you’ll want for nothing, my love. You’ve made this old bachelor a very happy man.’ He
squeezed her tightly and grinned, because he’d got his woman.
Daisy hummed and sang under her breath all the way back to her room at Gearstones, giving the drinkers standing outside the alehouse a more than generous welcome, before going
inside to the main house and climbing the stairs to flop onto her bed. She was to be married – and have a house of her own – with a man she knew would look after her and treat her
right. She lay on the metal-sprung bed that creaked at every turn, and looked around the room that had been her home for the three years that she had been at Gearstones Lodge.
They had been good years, full to the brim with events, despite there being illness, poverty and despair as navvies lost their lives building the iron rail-line through the Dales. But along with
the bad times came hope and friendship, especially the friendship and support that the Pratt family had shown her. She remembered the morning she’d crept downstairs to witness Jenny and Mike
talking about her, and how she had thought how crude and rough Jenny was. In fact she’d been just the opposite, and had shown Daisy nothing but kindness. A pang of guilt washed over her.
She’d have to tell Jenny of her plans to marry Bob. Once she was married she’d have her own house to run, and she wouldn’t have time to work at Gearstones Lodge. Her place was by
her man’s side, attending to his every need in the square-built house that she knew to be the signalman’s, across the track from the signal box at Blea Moor. She wouldn’t be on
her own, as there were two small cottages for the plate-layers and their families nearby, and she knew both families well. Thoughts about planning her wedding dress, and decorating her house,
danced around her head as she tossed and turned. She tried hard to find sleep, knowing that she had to be awake early because it was Ivy’s day off and she was the cook in the morning.
Morning came all too soon, as the grey fingers of dawn crept into Daisy’s bedroom. She felt tired and didn’t want to go down to the kitchen and start her usual routine. She eased her
body out of bed and smiled again at the thought of marrying Bob, then splashed her face in cold water from the ewer on her washstand. Pulling back the curtains, she let the morning’s weak
light in and gazed at the flanks of Whernside. The huge mountain outline was crisp and sharp in the morning’s light, but soon she’d be waking up in her own home directly under its
menacing scars, then making breakfast for her man and cleaning the house. She’d never thought that day would come.
The warmth from the kitchen met her as she crept downstairs and set about the business of lighting the oven. The previous day’s embers were still glowing slightly as she laid new kindling
and punched the bellows, to get a good roar from the flames. The lodge was quiet – not a sound was to be heard. It would be like that for some time yet, and Daisy appreciated the time to
herself. She’d loved this kitchen, and the hours she’d spent in it since her arrival that stormy night. Her thoughts often wandered back to her home – back to the days when her
father had been her best friend and protector – and then
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