A Summer Promise (5 page)

Gran made a mumbling grumbling noise beneath her breath but did not attempt to forbid Alice to go for the doctor. Maddy accompanied her friend across the farmyard, but before they reached the stony little track which led to the village she heard her grandmother’s voice raised in a shout behind them. ‘Maddy? Maddy? Don’t forget what you promised! You promised you’d not leave me, so don’t you go gadding off. Fetch the bellows and brighten the fire, ’cos I could do with another drink. And you’d best do as I bid you and fetch down the jeremiah from my room. A body can perch a chamber pot on a chair and use it without having to creak at the knees. Maddy? Where are you? Answer me, you little . . .’

Maddy looked remorsefully at her friend. ‘Oh, Alice, do you mind? I’m sorry I didn’t ask you properly first, but you saw what she’s like. I don’t want to do the wrong thing and make her worse.’

‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Alice said at once. ‘But how she does shout and boss you around, Maddy! And what does she mean about not leaving her? Surely she must realise you have to go to school, or come and play with me.’

Maddy pulled a face. ‘My grandmother is only interested in herself,’ she said ruefully. ‘But a sprained ankle doesn’t last for ever, and she’s very strong, you know. Only for some reason she got it into her head that I might use her ankle as an excuse to run away.’

‘But you wouldn’t, would you?’ Alice asked anxiously. ‘You’re my best friend, Maddy, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. Tell you what, whilst you’re cooped up with your gran you can have the book to keep you company.’

‘Oh, Alice, you are kind, and you know I’ll take great care of it,’ Maddy said joyfully. ‘I might read some of it to Gran, because the only reading matter we have here is old copies of magazines like
Farmer & Stock-Breeder
or
Farmer’s Weekly
. I suppose . . .’ Maddy was interrupted by a thin and querulous voice floating across to them.

‘Maddy Hebditch, come back here this instant! I’m that parched and you’ve not even pulled the kettle over the flame.’

‘All right, Gran, I’m coming,’ Maddy said, hearing the panic in her grandmother’s voice. She gave Alice a gentle push. ‘You’d better go. Thank you – and you will come back soon and bring the book? You said you would.’

‘As soon as I can,’ Alice called over her shoulder. ‘If I can get away I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’

Even lucky Alice could only do as she was allowed, Maddy reflected as she crossed the farmyard. ‘Coming, Gran,’ she called out as she entered the kitchen. ‘You can have a nice cup of tea just as soon as I’ve blown up the fire and boiled the kettle.’ She peered through the bars of the range and saw that the fire still glowed redly. ‘Do you fancy a sandwich?’

She half expected an indignant refusal, for Gran frequently boasted that she never ate much at midday, but the old woman replied that she was a trifle peckish. ‘You said you’d got some of Mrs Grundy’s cheese; I wouldn’t mind a piece of that with a slice of new-baked bread,’ she said. ‘Only I don’t want to be caught mumbling over bread and cheese if that girl – Alice whatshername – really does ask young Carlton to call.’

Maddy smiled to herself. Her grandmother had a set of false teeth in a cup of water by her bed, and unless she was expecting someone to call, there they would stay. ‘My gums is as hard as iron; I can crack a walnut with ’em,’ she was apt to boast. ‘I only need those teeth for the look of the thing.’ But now she turned to her granddaughter. ‘Fetch me teeth, quick,’ she commanded. ‘I’m not having a doctor think I’m a poor old mumbling woman who can’t afford gnashers. Hurry up, Maddy.’

‘I’ll get them as soon as I’ve made the tea,’ Maddy said patiently. ‘It’s a long way to the village and Alice isn’t a quick walker, so Dr Carlton can’t possibly get here in much under an hour. You’ll have finished your bread and cheese by then.’

Gran grinned gummily. ‘And I’ll breathe pickled onion straight into his face if he tries to charge me just for telling me I’ve sprained my ankle,’ she said.

The summer holidays arrived but Gran still lay on the sofa in the parlour, though she had made several attempts to get back on her feet. Dr Carlton had made arrangements for Maddy to draw some money on her grandmother’s behalf out of her pension book, so the girl was able to pay the doctor and, with the help of the farm produce, to keep their heads above water.

But she had no leisure time in which to pursue her search for water babies. She had tried reading from the book to Gran, who had declared it to be twaddle, fit only for mewling brats and not to be taken seriously at all.

‘I didn’t ask you to take it seriously,’ Maddy had said, hurt. ‘But although it’s a book for children, there’s a lot of good sense in what Mr Kingsley has written.’ She smiled at her grandmother. ‘You are very like Mrs Bedonebyasyoudid, you know.’

The two of them had been sitting at the kitchen table preparing onions for pickling and Gran had reared up in her seat, a dangerous glint in her eyes. ‘Is that a dig at me?’ she asked. ‘If so, you can take it back. The bit you read me about that old woman was not polite at all; in fact it was very rude. She’s ugly as sin and mean into the bargain, so if you’re saying I’m like that you’d best watch out.’

Maddy had put down the onion she was peeling and stared across the table at her grandmother. ‘I didn’t mean to say that you were ugly, but you’re pretty mean to me,’ she pointed out. ‘I’m thirteen now and yet you want to keep me in the house all the time, like a prisoner. When you could get about I used to sell our eggs and things at the market and play with Alice at the weekends and sometimes we went off for the whole day. But now, because you’re tied by the heels as the doctor calls it, you think I should be tied by the heels as well. Do you think that’s fair, Gran? I don’t like to tell on you to the doctor, but if you don’t begin to let me leave you for a few hours sometimes I shall simply have to ask him what I should do. I’m starting at the new school in a couple of weeks and I’m sure they won’t let me get away with saying I’m looking after my gran. They’ll tell me that if your ankle still won’t bear your weight then you should be in some sort of hospital or nursing home. They’ll start asking questions, and all sorts of things might happen. There’s always the workhouse, or whatever they call it now.’

Gran gasped, then threw the onion she was peeling as hard as she could. It struck Maddy in the middle of the forehead, causing her to feel quite strange for a moment.

‘What did you do that for?’ she asked, aggrieved. ‘I only pointed out that if you wouldn’t let me attend school, then there was always the . . .’

Another missile bounced off her head. ‘Public Assistance Institution,’ Gran said furiously. ‘And the day I go into one of them places is the day I’ll die. You promised you’d not leave me, you promised . . .’

To Maddy’s horror she saw two fat tears trickle down her grandmother’s cheeks. Never before had Gran wept in her presence. She leaned across the table and seized the old woman’s trembling hands. ‘Dear Gran, I didn’t mean to distress you,’ she said gently. ‘But, you know, you are being very unreasonable. If you truly can’t manage without having me within call all day, the ideal thing would be to employ one of the village women to come up at nine o’clock each morning and stay until four or five in the afternoon. But I’m not sure there’s enough money in your post office account to pay for such a person, so I suppose we must look at the alternatives. And don’t you go chucking onions at me again or I really might feel tempted to leave you,’ she added with a teasing smile.

Gran heaved an enormous sigh. ‘My ankle’s not nearly as swollen as it were,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t you go mentioning the perishing workhouse to Dr Carlton because I’ve already told him my granddaughter wouldn’t hear of it. When school starts you can attend your classes, but until then . . .’

But Maddy was shaking her head. This was her best opportunity so far to talk sense into Gran and she did not mean to let it pass. ‘No, Gran, that won’t do,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve already lost most of the summer holidays, thanks to your ankle. Alice and I had planned all sorts of things which we’ve had to miss because you’ve been poorly. Now I want to cram the remaining time full to bursting. I’ll see to you before I go off each day, but go off I must. Is that fair?’

She half expected a firm denial and was pleasantly surprised when her grandmother grinned and tapped the side of her nose. ‘You aren’t a bad child, even if a trifle hard; you take after your old gran,’ she announced. ‘Very well; you may start your freedom from tomorrow. Only you’d best do your chores as early as possible so you can leave me up and dressed with me lunch ready waiting.’

Maddy was so delighted that she could have danced and sung but she knew better than to do so; Gran could always change her mind. Instead, she said jubilantly: ‘Oh, Gran, you are good! And don’t worry, because I’m sure we’ll manage things between us; we always have, after all. Only you must tell me in good time what you fancy for your meals because we can’t afford to waste food.’

‘If that was a dig at me leaving most of the egg custard you made . . .’

Maddy laughed, but sobered quickly. ‘Honest to God it wasn’t,’ she said earnestly, remembering how Gran disliked to be laughed at or, for that matter, put in the wrong. ‘And it wasn’t wasted: I ate it.’

‘And I’ve no doubt it did you good,’ Gran said huffily. ‘I was sick of slops. Now if you’d offered me a nice lamb chop . . .’

Maddy hid a grin. Gran might boast that her gums were hard as nails but Maddy knew that, even had they been able to afford lamb chops, Gran would have been unable to eat them. Every now and again someone from the village would bring them a rabbit – poached, of course – and sometimes the butcher gave Maddy a bag of scraps, ‘to boil up to make a stew for the old lady’ as he put it. Such gestures were much appreciated by Maddy, but Gran valued her independence and when she was the recipient of such kindness she behaved so like a queen acknowledging a subject that Maddy felt quite embarrassed. However, she knew it was useless to tell Gran that she should perhaps reciprocate with a bag of apples or a couple of goose eggs, because that would merely cause Gran to give an affronted sniff. ‘I thanked him sincerely,’ she would say, staring incredulously at her granddaughter. ‘And I know very well you’ll go round in a day or two with a few eggs or a bag of apples. So let’s hear no more about it.’

And now, the longed-for day was here at last; Gran and Maddy were in the kitchen, and Maddy was preparing to set off for a blissful day out. She had done everything she could to make sure that Gran could spend most of the day in her chair. They had already eaten their breakfast of porridge and toast, and Maddy had made a rice pudding – Gran was very fond of rice pudding – and filled the kettle and stood it on the hob so that Gran could make herself a cup of tea to go with it. She was all ready to go, her own lunch of two cheese sandwiches in a piece of greaseproof paper safely stowed away in the pocket of her shabby cotton frock, when Gran called her back. Maddy sighed. ‘Yes, Gran?’ she said with all the patience she could muster. ‘What’s wrong now?’

Gran was sitting in her favourite chair with her knitting in her lap. She was a good knitter, and whenever there was a jumble sale in the village Maddy was instructed to buy any old woollies which were not eaten up by moths. In the long winter evenings she and Gran would unpick the garments and wash the wool, and Gran knitted it up again into the warm, if somewhat loopy, jumpers which the two of them wore around the house.

‘What is it, Gran?’ Maddy repeated. ‘Don’t forget what you promised!’

Gran scowled. ‘Don’t give me sauce,’ she said reprovingly. ‘Aren’t you going to take that there blamed fairy story back to the Hall? I thought you said you were.’

Maddy gasped. ‘You’re a gradely lass, Gran; what with making sure you had everything you wanted I clean forgot about the book, but you’re quite right, I ought to take it back today. It’s still in my bedroom, because I took it to bed last night meaning to have a good read, only I was so tired I dropped off before I had so much as opened it.’

Gran sniffed. ‘If you think it’s hard work to get ready to go off and leave me . . .’ she began, but Maddy was already halfway up the back stairs. She reached her bedroom, grabbed the book and charged downstairs again. How careless she had been! She really must be a bit more organised, though how she could be when Gran deliberately made things difficult was more than she could see at present.

Back in the kitchen she waved the book at Gran. ‘Here it is. Now don’t forget, Dr Carlton will be popping in some time just to check that you’re all right,’ she said gaily. She pointed to the clock which hung on the wall near the window. ‘I’ll be back in time to make our tea, say at five o’clock or thereabouts. You’ll be all right till then?’

‘I’m not a child; of course I’ll be all right,’ Gran said sharply. ‘Once I’d made up my mind I could manage, you were welcome to take yourself off. Always provided,’ she added hurriedly, ‘that you bring yourself back well before it gets dark. Evenings are drawing in now, so you’ll want to return in plenty of time. I don’t know why it takes me so long to get into me clothes and out of them again, but I suppose it’s the arthur-itis or the sky-attica what turns my limbs agin me.’

Maddy, already at the door, nodded sympathetically. ‘It’s what the old fellers in the village call the screws, or the rheumatics,’ she said. ‘I think it happens to everyone when they begin to get old . . .’

She wished the words unsaid as soon as they were uttered, for Gran did not intend to share her afflictions with any of the villagers. ‘Huh! They don’t know what pain is . . .’ she was beginning but Maddy, recognising yet another ploy to keep her locked in discussion in the kitchen, slipped into the yard and closed the door firmly behind her.

She stood still for a moment, considering the day that stretched before her. It was too early to go to the Hall – Alice did not usually break her fast in holiday times until nine at the earliest – but Maddy was determined not to waste a moment. The air was cool, full of the promise of a fine day to come, and when she reached the stony track she decided that she would go to the beck. Her birthday had occurred only a few days before and she knew that a great girl of thirteen was too old to believe in either water babies or water fairies – naiads, were they called? – but nevertheless, whenever she looked into the sparkling waters of the beck, she was not gazing into the depths in the hope of seeing a speckled trout, but a tiny little boy no more than four inches high who would prove that her belief in magic had been justified at last.