Josephine Cox - Songbird

When she saw how taken aback he seemed by her curt answer, she quickly assured him, “Sorry. It’s just that my parents both died, and I am an only child. It’s okay, though. It’s not uncommon.”

He gave a long, sorry sigh. “Forgive me. It was a clumsy question.”

Her smile put him at ease. “Don’t worry about it.”

He glanced at the bag she had brought with her. “If you need to collect anything from your previous place, I’ll take you there. Just say the word.”

Pointing to the holdall, she laughed, rather sadly. “That’s it. My whole life is in that bag.” Including my precious photos of little Michael and Ellen, she thought. And of myself, in another life. She sorely missed the singing; the crowds and the applause. It was as though she had dreamed it all, and now the dream was over.

He said not a word. Instead he looked long and hard at her, wondering what a personable young woman like Sheelagh Parson was doing traveling the country with just one bag, and such a desperate need for work and lodgings that she would go with a stranger, like himself.

“I’m glad we found each other,” he said quietly. “I need someone like you, and you obviously need a roof over your head…” When it seemed she might reply, he stopped her with a gesture. “No, Sheelagh. Don’t say anything. Just remember, you have work, and a home here, for as long as you want.”

That said, his dark eyes smiled down mischievously. “Mind you, if our Donald catches you slacking, he’ll have you out on your ear before you know what time of day it is!”

It was teno’clock the next morning, and Maddy had nearly finished cleaning the farmhouse kitchen. She had started at eight, after an early breakfast with Brad, and now only had the floor to wash. The place gleamed – it had been a pleasure to put this lovely room to rights. February sun streamed in through the windows as she filled a metal pail with hot water and began to rummage in the cupboard under the sink for some Flash, a scrubbing brush and some J-cloths.

Just then, she heard a loud rat-tat at the front door, and as Brad had left to go on his rounds of the farm, she wiped her sweating face with the hem of the old pinnie she was wearing and went to open it.

A tall woman stood there, with a hand on the shoulder of one of two young boys. One, the image of Brad, looked surprised to see her. “Hello,” he said. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s in the yard,” Maddy told him, then added, “Do come in, everyone. My name is Sheelagh Parson, and I have come to work for Mr. Fielding. You must be Robin,” she said to the lad, “and this must be your friend Dave and his mother. How do you do?”

The woman gave her a curious but not unfriendly glance, introduced herself as Susan Wright, and walked inside with the boys. An excited Donald came rushing in, barking and jumping up at them, and the lads made a big fuss of him, much to the women’s amusement.

Robin turned to Maddy and said, “Sheelagh, next week I’ll be eight! His cheeky freckled face, which had been thoroughly licked, was flushed with pride.

“Well!” Smiling, she said, “I think that’s wonderful. Are you having a party?”

“I don’t know – I haven’t asked my dad yet. I hope he remembers to get me a birthday cake.”

Maddy’s heart went out to him. “We’ll have to see about that, won’t we? And now, why don’t I put the kettle on? Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs. Wright?”

“Oh, call me Sue. And yes, I’d love a cup of tea. These two have fair worn me out this morning. We’ve already been swimming but it’s made no difference to their energy. I’ll be glad when half-term is over and they go back to school!”

The boys were making for the back door. “Bye!” called Robin. “Dave and me are going round the fields with Donald. Back soon!” On hearing his name, Donald was leaping up and down at the back door, yapping loudly and his tail going fifteen to the dozen.

“Just hark at that racket.” Sue was a woman in her early forties; she had the kind of smile that puts you at ease straight off. “And those two will no doubt be up to all kinds of mischievous tricks.”

“Such as what?” asked Brad, coming in through the back scullery and taking off his boots. His ready smile betrayed a father’s pleasure in the antics of his only son.

“You might ask!” Sue declared. “One minute they’re off climbing every tree in sight, and the next they’re sat on the edge of the brook – with their feet in that freezing water and their trousers wet to the knees.” She rolled her eyes to heaven. “They’re like a couple of jack-in-the-boxes – I can’t keep up with them.”

“Would a cup of tea help?” Brad asked, but the kettle was already coming to the boil.

“Sheelagh is already making us one,” Sue said, then added wickedly, “I hope there’s a chocolate digestive to go with it – although I know you keep them well-hidden.”

Brad made a startled face. “Shame on you, Sue! When have I ever hidden away the chocolate biscuits?”

She gave Maddy an aside wink. “Only every time you see me coming.”

“Well, they’ve all gone, so you’re out of luck,” Brad said, then burst out laughing.

Coming to sit alongside Maddy, Susan quietly addressed her but kept an eye on him. “He hides them in the oven. One of these days, he’ll switch the oven on, forget they’re there, and they’ll melt all over the place. And serve him jolly well right!”

Maddy laughed out loud. “I used to hide the biscuits too,” she admitted. “My friend Jack would eat all the cream ones and leave us with the soggy ginger-nuts and boring plain ones.”

“Tell us about your friend Jack.” Brad’s inquisitive voice brought her up sharp.

She searched for a way out, but there was none. What in God’s name had made her mention Jack? In one crazy, fleeting instant she had let her guard down.

Sensing her dilemma, Sue came to her rescue. “I thought you were making the tea?” she chided Brad with a warning glance. “My tongue feels like the back end of a saddle, and I’m sure Sheelagh here feels the same, after what she’s done to this kitchen. I haven’t seen it look like this since Joan went off to live by the sea. So, go on on with you! Chop! Chop! And don’t forget the biscuits.”

Realizing he had made a mistake in asking about Maddy’s friends, Brad set about making the tea, clattering around in the kitchen. “He didn’t mean to pry,” she explained quietly. “He’s a man, that’s all. And you know how they can put their big feet in it, even without trying.”

Brad poured the boiling water into a large teapot containing three tea bags, then went to wash his hands in the small cloakroom.

Maddy felt amazingly comfortable in this homely woman’s presence. Turning to her, she tried to explain. “It’s just that… well, Jack was like a brother to me. But that was another life – another time.” Yet never a day passed when she didn’t see him lying there in the gutter. Alice too, and both of them gone forever.

Sue put her hand on Maddy’s arm. “Brad really didn’t mean to intrude. But if he asks awkward questions again, just tell him to mind his own business.” She laughed. “I tell him that all the time, and I’m still allowed through the front door.”

“He seems like a good man.”

“Oh, he is.” Her manner grew serious. “Brad is a survivor. With what he’s had to endure these past years, any weaker man would have put a gun to his head. But not him, oh no. He’s like a mountain, always there, strong and enduring.”

She apologized, but, “Can I ask… has he taken you on as his new housekeeper?”

Maddy explained, “He hasn’t exactly called me his housekeeper, but yes, he seems to think I might be able to do the work his foreman’s wife did – Joan, wasn’t it?”