Tiger Ragtime by Catrin Collier Page B

salt cellar.
    ‘It’s Sunday service on the trains. You may have trouble getting back tonight,’ Harry warned.
    ‘I’m not coming back. Can I have a lift to the station with you when you take the others to chapel, please, Harry?’
    A dense silence fell over the kitchen. ‘What do you mean, you’re not coming back?’ Mary’s voice wavered with suppressed emotion as she carried the eggs, still in the pan, over to David.
    ‘I’m leaving the farm.’
    Mary stared at her brother. When she saw the expression on his face she almost dropped the frying pan. ‘You can’t be thinking of living in Cardiff.’
    ‘Why not?’ David challenged.
    ‘We have some talking to do. You’d better sit down, Mary,’ Harry advised.
    Mary lifted the eggs on to David’s plate and returned the frying pan to the range. After setting it on one of the covered hot plates she joined Harry and David at the table.
    David sensed them both looking at him, but he began to eat his breakfast although it was sticking in his throat. Unable to bear the tension a moment longer, Harry braved the question uppermost in his mind. ‘What do you intend to do in Cardiff?’
    ‘Go to sea.’
    ‘You don’t know the first thing about sailing a ship,’ Mary pointed out harshly.
    ‘Neither did any sailor until he went to sea. All those ships in the docks must need crew.’
    ‘They do – qualified crew.’ Harry sensed the baby growing limp in his arms. He glanced at him, saw he was asleep and returned him to his day cot.
    ‘How hard can it be to sail a ship?’ David reached for the butter. ‘All right, sailing a ship is skilled work but there’s bound to be all sorts of menial jobs that I can do on board while I learn. Don’t sailors scrub decks –’
    ‘And peel potatoes, empty slop buckets, shovel coal into boilers –’
    ‘There you are then, Mary,’ David broke in triumphantly. ‘That doesn’t sound too different from farm work.’
    ‘Why Cardiff?’ Mary knew the answer but she had to ask the question because she wasn’t sure David would admit to wanting to be close to Edyth.
    ‘Because it’s a port. From there I can see the world.’
    ‘And the farm?’ Her voice cracked and both Harry and David knew she was close to tears. ‘Who do you think is going to run the farm while you are off seeing the world?’
    ‘You and Mr Jones manage the farm perfectly well now, whether I’m here or not.’
    ‘But Mr Jones works for us, David. He doesn’t own the Ellis Estate. His heart isn’t in the place.’
    David finally gave up on his breakfast and pushed the uneaten food to the side of his plate. He dropped his knife and fork on top and left the table. ‘Neither is mine, Mary.’ He opened the door that led into the farmyard. ‘I’ll find the others and tell them that I’m leaving.’
    Mary left her chair and went after him but Harry grabbed her skirt and held her fast until David had closed the outside door.
    ‘Let him go, darling.’
    ‘David can’t leave. The farm is his. The Ellises have fought for hundreds of years to keep it in the family. His name – David Ellis – is carved over the door …’
    ‘Your ancestor’s name is carved over the door,’ Harry reminded her. ‘The Ellis Estate was his dream, not David’s. David’s young, he’s not sure what he wants from life yet. Please don’t be angry with him for rejecting someone else’s dream.’
    ‘What was the point of all that work, all that sacrifice? My parents and grandparents worked day and night to build the farm so David could inherit it and now,’ she choked back a sob, ‘it’s all been for nothing.’
    He pulled her down on to his lap. ‘It’s not been for nothing. The farm belongs to you and your brothers and sister. And in four years’ time, when I reach thirty and my trust is dissolved, you will own it outright. And if David doesn’t want it then, perhaps Luke or Matthew will when they’re old enough.’
    ‘But it’s always been the