banging on the door and a voice shouted through the letter box, ‘Are yer there, lass?’
‘Hello, Uncle William.’ She smiled up at the large red-faced man in well-worn, thick worsted check trousers and a jacket that almost matched. ‘I wondered if you’d come.’
‘Well, wonder no more, I’m here, lass.’ He grinned, revealing a mouthful of teeth as large as his smile, and placed a heavy brown paper parcel in her arms. ‘Dora said you might be feeling the strain of looking after our Albert and the youngsters. There’s a couple of her lamb hotpot pies in there as well as apple and plum tarts. You’re to bring the family for Easter dinner, as well.’
Lily had given little thought to Easter which was weeks away, and was a little suspicious as to why her aunt should be planning a family get-together. Was it to do with what Matt had said? ‘Dad too?’ she enquired.
William pushed his trilby to the back of his head. ‘Dora didn’t say not, lass. Perhaps she’s thinking it’s time to make up their quarrel.’ He winked. ‘Now open the back gate and you can give me a hand with them cows.’
‘Will you be staying for a cuppa?’
‘No, lass. I’ve got a man coming to see a horse so I can’t be wasting time.’
She paused only to place the heavy parcel on the kitchen table and hurried through to the back, cheered by her uncle’s arrival. Moving cows was always a performance when William came instead of the herdsman because he refused to use an halter, believing his voice had the same power over cows that the Pied Piper’s had had over children and rats.
‘Mind that tail!’ he roared, waving his blackthorn stick over the backside of one replacement cow. Its hooves clattered and slipped on the damp cobbles and its thickly fringed eyes were nervous as Lily dodged out of the way past the brick-built midden. William herded it into an empty stall, singing a Tex Ritter song, and Lily gave the cow a pat.
‘Now for the difficult part,’ she said, her eyes gleaming as she closed the door.
‘Nothing to it, lass.’ He winked and turned to Bluebell. ‘Come on, me beautiful girl.’
Bluebell responded to the touch of his stick on her rump. Lily swiftly slipped a rope halter over the other cow’s head and headed for the open gate. Bluebell slowly followed Lily and the other cow along the back entry and into the street but she baulked at climbing the ramp into the lorry. She stood scenting the air. Perhaps it was the grass in Sheil Park situated across the road from the top of the street she could smell, because the next moment she was off, trotting in that direction.
Swiftly Lily unlooped the halter from the other cow and gave chase, watched by several interested neighbours as she swung the rope around her head and lassooed the cow. It was a skill which William had taught her and Ben. She panted and heaved on the rope. Then she heard her name called and, turning, saw Matt standing next to William. Her heart jolted but she waved matter-of-factly. He came strolling towards her, dressed in clerical black, his sunburnt face split by a smile. Instantly she was conscious of the dirt on her cheek and her working clothes, but his grey eyes were warm, and almost appreciative, she thought with relief, as if he was really pleased to see her.
The recalcitrant cow was led on to the lorry. William lifted up the tailboard and shot the bolts. ‘I’ll have to be going.’ He squeezed Lily’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, ‘I like him but we need you here. You’re a good sensible lass, see you stay that way.’ For a moment she could not think what he meant. He turned to Matt. ‘Nice meeting you, parson.’
Matt cocked an eyebrow. ‘I wish you meant that, Mr Thorpe.’ He held out a hand. William hesitated a second then shook it heartily before climbing into the cab and driving off.
Apprehensively Lily turned to Matt. Had he told William about his proposal of marriage? She hoped not. William might tell her
‘Hello, Uncle William.’ She smiled up at the large red-faced man in well-worn, thick worsted check trousers and a jacket that almost matched. ‘I wondered if you’d come.’
‘Well, wonder no more, I’m here, lass.’ He grinned, revealing a mouthful of teeth as large as his smile, and placed a heavy brown paper parcel in her arms. ‘Dora said you might be feeling the strain of looking after our Albert and the youngsters. There’s a couple of her lamb hotpot pies in there as well as apple and plum tarts. You’re to bring the family for Easter dinner, as well.’
Lily had given little thought to Easter which was weeks away, and was a little suspicious as to why her aunt should be planning a family get-together. Was it to do with what Matt had said? ‘Dad too?’ she enquired.
William pushed his trilby to the back of his head. ‘Dora didn’t say not, lass. Perhaps she’s thinking it’s time to make up their quarrel.’ He winked. ‘Now open the back gate and you can give me a hand with them cows.’
‘Will you be staying for a cuppa?’
‘No, lass. I’ve got a man coming to see a horse so I can’t be wasting time.’
She paused only to place the heavy parcel on the kitchen table and hurried through to the back, cheered by her uncle’s arrival. Moving cows was always a performance when William came instead of the herdsman because he refused to use an halter, believing his voice had the same power over cows that the Pied Piper’s had had over children and rats.
‘Mind that tail!’ he roared, waving his blackthorn stick over the backside of one replacement cow. Its hooves clattered and slipped on the damp cobbles and its thickly fringed eyes were nervous as Lily dodged out of the way past the brick-built midden. William herded it into an empty stall, singing a Tex Ritter song, and Lily gave the cow a pat.
‘Now for the difficult part,’ she said, her eyes gleaming as she closed the door.
‘Nothing to it, lass.’ He winked and turned to Bluebell. ‘Come on, me beautiful girl.’
Bluebell responded to the touch of his stick on her rump. Lily swiftly slipped a rope halter over the other cow’s head and headed for the open gate. Bluebell slowly followed Lily and the other cow along the back entry and into the street but she baulked at climbing the ramp into the lorry. She stood scenting the air. Perhaps it was the grass in Sheil Park situated across the road from the top of the street she could smell, because the next moment she was off, trotting in that direction.
Swiftly Lily unlooped the halter from the other cow and gave chase, watched by several interested neighbours as she swung the rope around her head and lassooed the cow. It was a skill which William had taught her and Ben. She panted and heaved on the rope. Then she heard her name called and, turning, saw Matt standing next to William. Her heart jolted but she waved matter-of-factly. He came strolling towards her, dressed in clerical black, his sunburnt face split by a smile. Instantly she was conscious of the dirt on her cheek and her working clothes, but his grey eyes were warm, and almost appreciative, she thought with relief, as if he was really pleased to see her.
The recalcitrant cow was led on to the lorry. William lifted up the tailboard and shot the bolts. ‘I’ll have to be going.’ He squeezed Lily’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, ‘I like him but we need you here. You’re a good sensible lass, see you stay that way.’ For a moment she could not think what he meant. He turned to Matt. ‘Nice meeting you, parson.’
Matt cocked an eyebrow. ‘I wish you meant that, Mr Thorpe.’ He held out a hand. William hesitated a second then shook it heartily before climbing into the cab and driving off.
Apprehensively Lily turned to Matt. Had he told William about his proposal of marriage? She hoped not. William might tell her
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