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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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BOOK: Tangled Threads
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Huskily he said, ‘You never quite forget your first love, Eveleen.’

‘Don’t you?’ the ice hardened once again. ‘Oh I think you can if you make yourself.’

She was close to him now, looking into his dark eyes that were so like his son’s and those eyes were looking straight into hers, plumbing the depths of her soul. He shook his head
slightly. ‘It makes me very sad, my dear, to see such bitterness in one so young. Tell me, is it on your mother’s behalf or on your own that you bear such a grudge against men? Or is it
against just one man in particular?’

With a bluntness that was bordering on rudeness, Eveleen said, ‘That’s none of your business.’ Belatedly she added a more polite, ‘sir.’

But Brinsley only smiled, though his smile was sad and did not reach his eyes. ‘If you ever want to talk about it,’ he said quietly, ‘I’m a good listener.’

‘Are you? Are you really?’ Eveleen burst out, all the worry and tension and bitterness flooding out of her. Before she could stop her rash tongue, she had said, ‘Then
it’s a great pity you weren’t listening twenty years ago.’

She turned and ran from the office, tears of frustration and rage blinding her. Just who did he think he was, trying to worm his way back into her mother’s life after all this time?

Oh, he had a nerve. And so did his son. No doubt, she thought bitterly, he’ll be just the same.

 
Forty-Eight

A week later Josh was waiting for her near the workers’ entrance of the warehouse as Eveleen finished her shift.

He mopped his brow. ‘I couldn’t face the stairs, mi duck, but could I have a word?’

Eveleen smiled and said, ‘Of course, Mr Carpenter.’ She was aware of the whispering and tittering among the other women leaving work. With impetuous mischief, Eveleen’s eyes
glinted wickedly as she said to Josh, ‘Come on, let’s give the old biddies something to talk about.’

Boldly she stepped forward and linked her arm through his.

‘Eh?’ For one startled moment Josh’s face was a picture, but then, realizing what she was about, he chuckled and said, ‘You little minx.’

‘Well,’ she said as they walked side by side laughing softly. ‘It’ll give ’em summat to gossip about for a week. It’ll make their day.’

‘And mine,’ Josh said gallantly, clearly enjoying the fun.

When they reached his office, he gave her hand a little pat and ushered her into the chair on the visitor’s side of the desk. Then he took his own behind it, easing himself into it with a
sigh of relief. ‘I just wanted to tell you that Mr Richard asked me to let you know that all the legalities seem to be proceeding satisfactorily about your adoption of the little one.’
He pulled a comical face and added. ‘I rather think those are the solicitor’s words, not Master Richard’s and certainly not mine.’ He laughed and his jowls wobbled.

Eveleen smiled, relieved at his words. But then she was surprised by a sudden shaft of disappointment that Richard had not sought her out to tell her the news himself. In fact, now she thought
about it, neither Richard nor his father had visited the inspection room recently.

Not since the day she had run from this very office after her rash remark to Brinsley.

Haltingly, she asked now, ‘Did – did Mr Richard say anything else?’

Josh wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ He looked at her keenly. ‘Was there something else?’

‘No – no,’ Eveleen said hurriedly, unwilling to confide further. The secrets of more than twenty years ago were not hers to divulge. She stood up. ‘I’d better get
home. Thank you for telling me.’

‘Eveleen . . .’ Now it was Josh who seemed a little uncertain. ‘I was wondering – I mean – would you mind if I came to see the little one?’

Eveleen stared at him for a moment, but seeing genuine concern on his face, she nodded. There was something more. Deep in those kind eyes there was a haunting sadness. ‘Of course you
can.’

The Sunday of Bridie’s christening dawned bright and clear.

‘It’s going to be a lovely day,’ Win said as she came into the house almost before it was light. ‘Fred’s organized his mate to bring his pony and trap for us at
eight o’clock. What time’s the service?’

‘After the usual service in the chapel this afternoon.’

Win tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her smile. ‘How’s Mr Carpenter getting there? You have asked him, I suppose?’

Josh Carpenter was now a frequent visitor to Foundry Yard. The first time he had settled himself in a chair beside the range and held out his arms to take the baby, Eveleen had stared at him
open-mouthed. But she had placed Bridie in the crook of his arm and then stood back to watch him. The tiny child nestled against his soft body and gazed up into his face as if drinking in the
man’s features.

Josh smiled down at her. ‘She’s not frightened of my ugly mug, is she?’

Eveleen said nothing but watched Josh’s gentleness with the tiny mite.

As he looked down at the infant in his arms, Josh said slowly, ‘You might not believe it, but I was married once.’ He paused and then added sadly, ‘My wife died having our
first child. A boy. He died too.’

Eveleen glanced at her mother who was staring, wide-eyed, at Josh, her fingers trembling against her mouth. Eveleen turned away and went into the scullery, leaving them together. If her mother
wanted to confide in the big man, then that was her business.

Mary never said what had passed between them and Eveleen did not ask, but after that day, Josh came to the house once or twice a week, always bringing a little gift for the baby and sometimes a
posy of flowers for Mary.

‘He’s making his own way there,’ Eveleen said now in answer to Win’s question.’

Win glanced about her and whispered. ‘Is your mam all right? Is she going to go?’

Eveleen held up two crossed fingers. ‘So far, yes. But you never know with my mam. This morning she might have changed her mind yet again.’

‘Do you think the rest of your family will attend?’

‘That’s what’s worrying her, I think. Part of her wants them to be there, the other part is dreading it.’

Win nodded, though she could not quite understand all that went on in this family. All she knew was that this spirited young lass, now busily feeding and dressing a tiny baby that was not even
her own, had a lot on her plate.

Fred and his mate arrived promptly and everyone, including Mary, climbed up into the trap. They set off at a spanking pace in good time to travel the few miles to Flawford, a basket holding the
baby’s feeding paraphernalia at their feet.

‘You’ll need to go somewhere to feed and change her before the service, won’t you?’ Win said softly to Eveleen and glanced anxiously at Mary, hoping that above the noise
of the wheels, she would not hear. ‘Is there anyone’s house you can go to?’

‘When we went to the funeral, we went to my grandmother’s. But today’ – Eveleen looked up smiling – ‘I think the godfather will oblige. He lives in one of the
other cottages.’

‘So,’ Win said slowly, ‘you’re going close to your uncle’s home? Right next door to Bridie’s grandfather?’

Eveleen nodded ‘And her great-grandmother’s house.’

Win shook her head. ‘I don’t understand it. How anyone can hold it against a tiny mite like this, I don’t know.’

With great feeling, Eveleen said, ‘You don’t know my Uncle Harry.’

‘Maybe, after today,’ Win said, determination in her tone, ‘I will.’

Andrew must have been watching out for them for only seconds after the trap had drawn up outside the gates, and before they had had a chance to climb down, he was pulling open
the gate and holding out his arms to take Bridie.

Eveleen saw the smile on Win’s face and knew that even before he had been properly introduced, Bridie’s prospective godfather had endeared himself to her.

‘Come along in. Everything’s ready.’ He led the way to his cottage, which was between Harry’s at one end and Bridget Singleton’s at the other.

‘Oh, Andrew!’ Eveleen exclaimed as she stepped into his front parlour. Before her spread on the table in the centre of the small, cramped room were plates and plates piled high with
food: sandwiches, scones and buns, dark brown squares of ginger parkin, and lacemaker’s cake cut into slices and spread thickly with butter. ‘You shouldn’t have gone to all this
trouble.’

Andrew, still carrying the baby, only grinned. ‘Not every day do I get an excuse to have a party.’

‘It’s a grand spread, young man,’ Win said and moved forward to greet him. ‘I’m Win, one of Bridie’s godmothers. Eveleen’s the other, of course.
I’m pleased to meet you.’

Andrew nodded, but keeping tight hold of the baby, did not put out his hand to take Win’s. He smiled and echoed, ‘Pleased to meet you. Make yourselves at home. Mrs Hardcastle, come
and sit near the fire.’

The room was full of chatter and bustle as the party all squeezed in to Andrew’s front room. Now that he had welcomed everyone, Andrew sat down and gently eased open the folds of the
shawl. ‘Oh, but she’s bonny,’ he said. ‘She’s altered even since I last saw her.’

‘They alter every day when they’re little,’ Win said, leaning forward to join in the admiration. ‘You’ll have to come over and see us as often as you
can.’

‘I will,’ Andrew said promptly. ‘I’ll come on Sunday afternoons.’ He glanced up at Eveleen and added, ‘If that’s all right with you.’

‘Of course it is,’ she said quietly, marvelling again at his devotion. He would come all that way every week, walking the six miles or so if necessary, just so that he could see
Rebecca’s baby.

There was a knock at the door and Eveleen, being the nearest, opened it.

‘Mr Carpenter. You made it then? Do come in.’

The big man squeezed himself into the already crowded room. He mopped his forehead and said, ‘Reckon I’ll just stand by the door, Eveleen. And please, do call me Josh when
we’re not at work.’

Eveleen smiled and introduced him to Andrew, the only person in the room whom Josh had not met before.

Josh nodded and then craned to see the baby. ‘How’s the little one? Been all right on the journey, has she?’

‘Good as gold,’ Win said.

‘Eveleen,’ Andrew said. ‘Do you want to make everyone a cup of tea? Everything’s ready in the scullery and the kettle’s boiling there on the hob. And please,
everyone, help yourselves to something to eat.’

Eveleen smiled. Obviously Andrew had no intention of letting go of the baby. She pulled off her gloves and went through to the scullery.

While the adults drank tea, Eveleen prepared Bridie’s bottle.

‘I’ll give it to her,’ Andrew said. ‘Just show me what to do.’

The women in the room exchanged a glance that said silently, what a wonderful husband for Rebecca and father this young man would have made. If only she had lived, there would have been some
happiness for her if she had been prepared to take it.

Josh eased himself down on to a spindly-legged chair next to Mary and began a conversation. ‘How are you, Mrs Hardcastle? Lovely day for a ride out into the country, isn’t
it?’

Eveleen, hearing his words, held her breath for a moment. That was not the best topic of conversation he could have chosen. Even though he had seen her often over the past few weeks, he probably
still did not know of Mary’s hankering to return to the open fields and the huge skies of Lincolnshire.

But, strangely, Mary was smiling at him. ‘Oh, Mr Carpenter—’

‘Josh,’ he prompted gently.

Her smile widened. ‘Josh, then. I wish you could see the place where we used to live. It’s beautiful. My husband was head cowman for the Dunsmores and we lived in a tied farmhouse on
the estate. That’s why we had to leave when he died, you see.’

Josh nodded, understandingly.

‘But we shall go back one day. Eveleen’s promised to take me home again as soon as she can.’

Though his attention was on the child, Andrew had heard the conversation and looked up at once. ‘You’re leaving? You’re going back to Bernby?’ The disappointment was
written plainly on his face and even Josh looked crestfallen too.

Eveleen pulled a comical face, trying to make light of it. ‘It’ll be a while yet on the wages I get.’

‘Eveleen, you promised,’ Mary’s voice rose a little.

‘Yes, Mam,’ Eveleen said quietly, trying to calm her at once. ‘And I’ll keep that promise. One day we will go home, but it won’t be for a little while
yet.’

Now she was torn among those in the room. Her mother, to whom she had made a solemn vow, and the new people in their lives, who so obviously cared about them now: Andrew, Win and Fred, and even
Josh Carpenter. Their feelings mattered too.

Into the silence, Eveleen said briskly, ‘Time I was getting madam here ready for her big moment. Now, Andrew, unless you want to learn how to change her nappy . . .’

Andrew laughed and handed Bridie over. ‘I think I’ll give that a miss, if you don’t mind.’

The laughter that followed lightened the tension and even Mary was smiling once more.

Just before it was time to leave for the service, Eveleen slipped out of the house and knocked on the door of her grandmother’s cottage.

‘Come in, come in,’ came her imperious voice and Eveleen knew before she even stepped into the room what kind of welcome awaited her.

‘So you’ve brought her bastard back to be christened, have you?’

‘It’s not the bairn’s fault, is it, Gran?’ said Eveleen quietly.

The old woman merely grunted and said, ‘Well, I hope you’re not expecting us to come.’

‘I didn’t expect Uncle Harry to, no. But I thought you might. You came to Rebecca’s funeral.’

‘Aye, and much good it did me. He wouldn’t speak to me for a fortnight afterwards.’

‘Then that’s his problem.’

Bridget squinted up at her. ‘Very forthright for a slip of a girl, aren’t you?’

Eveleen smiled. ‘Yes, I’m like you. Haven’t you always said what you thought?’

‘And a lot of good that’s done me an’ all. I’m still doing what other folks tell me to do. First, my parents, then my husband. Now I have to obey my son.’

‘Why?’ Eveleen countered. ‘Why do you have to obey him?’

For a moment the old lady floundered. ‘Because he – because he’s the man. The head of the family.’

BOOK: Tangled Threads
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