Elizabeth Elgin - Daisychain Summer

‘ Damn that war!’ he gasped.

‘Tom?’ Alice was at his side in an instant, eyes anxious. ‘What is it, love? What was it you just said?’

‘Dreaming,’ he mumbled, cursing his carelessness. ‘Must have nodded off. Aye – happen I was dreaming …’

‘About the war! It’s been over two years, almost, yet still it’s always there, at the backs of our minds. Don’t think anyone who was in France will rightly forget …’

‘No. It’s got a lot to answer for. But let’s get this bairn up to her cot? She’s fast asleep.’

Carefully, he got to his feet, cupping the little head protectively in his hand. Then half-way up the stairs he turned abruptly.

‘Alice, I do love you – but you know it, don’t you?’

‘I know it,’ she said softly, and there was no need for reassurance, because her eyes said it for her. I love you. I shall always love you …

‘Off you go,’ she said softly. ‘Put her in her cot. I’ll set the kettle on. We’ll have a sup of tea, then I’ve got a letter to write …’

‘There, now.’ Alice lay down her pen and corked the ink bottle. ‘That’s over and done with. I’ll post it in the morning when I go to the village. Just one thing more, Tom …’

‘Whatever else?’ he smiled indulgently. ‘Can’t it wait until morning?’

‘That it can’t! I’m in the mood for setting things to rights. I’ve written to Rowangarth – now there’s one thing more I must tell you.

‘You mind you said that Daisy did well at her christening – had so many lovely things given to her that the West Welby lads’d be courting her for her dowry – or something daft like that …?’

‘A joke, love, though I’ve given the matter a deal of thought,’ he said gravely, though his eyes were bright with teasing, ‘and there’s none in that village half good enough for our Daisy! But what’s brought all this on?’

‘Like I said – setting things to rights, because happen you should know that you might be more right than you realize – about the bairn, I mean …’

‘Alice?’ He moved towards her, but she got to her feet, taking up a position behind her chair. And she always did that, he frowned, when something bothered her. ‘Tell me, sweetheart?’

‘Our Daisy does have a dowry,’ she whispered, eyes on the chairback. ‘First thing I did after she was born was to open a bank account in her name.’

‘And what’s wrong with that, bonny lass? Nice to think she’ll have a bit of brass to draw on if ever she should need it. I’ve set my heart on her getting a scholarship to the Grammar School – there’ll be fancy uniform to buy, and –’

‘Tom! Stop your dreaming! There’s years and years before we need think about that. She’s hardly six weeks old, yet! And if you’re set on educating her,’ she added reluctantly, ‘she can always be paid for.’

‘And just how, might I ask? It costs good money every term at that school if a child hasn’t the brains to get a free place, though happen we’d manage.’ Rabbits to sell, he calculated. Rabbits were vermin and all a keeper caught, it was accepted, were his own. And rabbit skins and mole skins fetched a fair price and –

‘Will you listen , Tom? It would be nothing to do with managing. Daisy has enough money of her own!’

There now, she’d said it and please God that Dwerry-house temper wouldn’t flash sudden and sharp.

‘Her own? Tell me, Alice?’

His voice was soft, ordinary almost. They weren’t going to have words if only because it was Daisy they were talking about. She drew in a breath of relief.

‘When I was married to – when I was at Rowangarth and I thought of you as dead …’

‘When you were Lady Sutton, wed to Sir Giles,’ he supplied. ‘Lovey, we’ve had all this out. It happened. You did what you had to. Don’t talk about it as if it’s something to be ashamed of. Just tell me about Daisy’s bank book.’

‘All right, then. Giles made me an allowance – I didn’t touch it, hardly. It didn’t seem right. Any road, when I came to you there was most of it left …’

‘And all we’ve got in this house – it was that money paid for it,’ he gasped.

‘No. You know that after you and me were wed, I sent to Rowangarth for my things – my own things – all the bedding and linen I’d collected, the rest of my clothes, the chest of drawers Reuben gave us …’

‘Aye. And instead of them being delivered by the railway, they came in a carrier’s motor, and all manner of things, beside!’

‘Yes. Another bed, a washstand and jug and bowl, and rugs and kitchen chairs and –’

‘It was good of Julia to send them and wrong of me to think otherwise.’

‘Furniture Rowangarth had no need of, and kindly given. And the rest of our home came out of my own savings, Tom, I promise you. I didn’t use a penny of Giles’s money. All I ever took from it was money for Daisy’s pram – and whilst I’m about it, that pram cost five guineas . Our little one was to have the finest coach-built perambulator I could lay hands on, I vowed. And besides, it’ll come in nicely for the rest of our bairns. Good things always last,’ she added with defiant practicality.

‘That great posh pram will outlast six more, then!’ he laughed. ‘We’re going to have to be busy if we’re to get our value out of it.’

‘Sweetheart – you aren’t angry? You don’t think I should have told you before this?’

‘I’m not angry.’ He loved her too much. They were too happy, the three of them, that he’d be a fool ever to lose his temper again. ‘But might a man be told how wealthy a daughter he’s got?’

‘Aye. I reckon I owe you that.’ Alice opened the dresser drawer, slid her fingers beneath the lining paper and took out the bank book. ‘See for yourself …’

‘Heck!’ His eyes widened; he let go a gasp of disbelief. ‘That’s enough to buy this house we’re living in and then some!’

‘That’s just about it. And not a penny of it can be touched till she’s seven and can sign her own name to get at it. But I don’t want her to know about it, Tom; don’t want her thinking she can have all the toys she wants, nor any bicycle she thinks fit to choose. Daisy Dwerryhouse cuts her coat according to our cloth; I’ve made up my mind about that. So not one word, mind …’

‘Not a word! But think on, eh – our Daisy rich!’

‘Rich my foot! She’s got something put by, that’s all. Rich is – well, it’s like Mr Hillier is and the Pendenys Suttons.’ She stopped, abruptly. ‘Sorry, Tom. We don’t talk about them, do we? Only about Nathan …’

‘Only about the Reverend, who’s the best of the bunch of them. But tell me what’s in yon’ letter to her ladyship?’ He nodded towards the envelope on the mantelpiece, waiting to be stamped and posted. ‘Or am I not to know?’

‘I think you know already, but I’ll tell you all about it when I get her reply – which will be soon, I shouldn’t wonder. Now give the fire a stir, will you, and hurry that kettle up. And Tom – I do so love you. We aren’t too happy, are we?’ she whispered, all at once afraid.

‘No, sweetheart. I’ve always been of the opinion that we get what we deserve in this life and what we’ve got, you and me, we paid for – in advance. So stop your worriting and make your man that sup of tea!’

Almost without thinking, his hand strayed to his pocket and the rabbit’s foot he kept there; his lucky rabbit’s foot. Reuben had given it to him the day before he’d left Rowangarth to join the Army; given one to Davie and Will Stubbs an’ all, and all three of them came through that war. He had great faith in that old rabbit’s foot, he thought, curling his fingers around its silky softness. It had taken care of him in the war and now it would take care of Alice and the bairn – and their happiness. Stood to reason, didn’t it? And Alice should go home to Rowangarth just as soon as maybe – let old Reuben see Daisy – be blowed if she shouldn’t!