All the dear faces (22 page)

Chapter
12

She heard the thunder of his horse's hooves on the stony path for several long minutes before she saw him and when he pulled his mare in and flung himself off her back, Annie could only stare at him in complete and dumbstruck amazement
.

She was instructing Phoebe in the correct way to make a swill basket, sitting in a sunny corner of the flower garden her mother had made when she came as a bride to Browhead. Though the garden was wild and overgrown, the stony path crowded with sprawling plants which had not been touched for two summers now, it was pleasant, pretty with the colourful wild flowers Lizzie had transplanted long ago from the fields and hedgerows in the valley bottom about the lake. Thrift was beginning to flourish, its fragrant pink mingling with the snow white of alyssum, and against the wall of the farmhouse where it was sheltered from the worst of the weather was clematis, not yet in bloom, and yellow winter-flowering jasmine. At their back were apple trees in flower, a magical floating cloud of dense blossom from which the trunks of the trees seemed to hang, and early plum trees standing between the rough flower beds and the vegetables which marched in splendid rows at the side of the house. Cabbage and carrots, turnips and potatoes, beetroot and rhubarb and onion. There were daisies pushing their cheerful way through the bit of grass on which she and Cat and Phoebe sprawled. The sun was warm and the dogs panted, their tongues lolling from their open mouths, their eyes bright and watchful guarding this 'flock' of theirs to which, recently, another had been added.

“
The timber must be cut between November and May, Phoebe," Annie was saying "and the poles should be straight-grained and free of moss. Now I've peeled and split these and they've been boiled in water for several hours to make them pliable. You understand?
”

Phoebe nodded to indicate that she did. She had not yet had a great deal to say for herself but her face was bright with interest.

“
Now I've split them again, shaved them and trimmed the wood into these very thin strips. Next year you could do the whole process yourself . . ." Phoebe thrilled to the words 'next year'. It had a lovely sound of permanence about it which was very much to her liking. ". . . but for now we'll just concentrate on the basket. All the strips must be of the same thickness and width and then they are woven into a shallow boat shape. The rim is oval and the strips are nailed to it. See, they're like ribbons . . ." Phoebe nodded, ". . . and look very fine, but when they're woven properly they're so strong the basket will hold water. We can sell them for a shilling each to the coal mines or to the ships in Whitehaven. When we have a horse and cart . . .
”

We! Phoebe felt the bursting happiness fill her, every corner of her skinny frame singing with the joy of it. We! Next year! It was worth what that stinking old devil had done to her to have landed up here which truly must be heaven, with this lovely lady who truly must be an angel. She would have it done to her all over again if it meant she could stay. He'd not got his `thingy' inside her, fumbling old bugger that he'd been, but his hands had crawled all over her body, like filthy slugs, invading her private parts and bruising her tender flesh. His mouth had clamped on hers, gagging her, and his tongue had . . . Oh, dear God .. . it made her sick to think of it, her stomach heaving and her skin sweating but she'd have it done to her every day of the week . . . well, perhaps once a week, if she could continue to live with Annie . . . Annie. . . she'd been told to call her Annie and the little poppet who was her daughter. Loved them both she did, even the dogs, with all the
pent up, dammed up love which no one, in all of her life, had ever asked her for
.

She was as astonished as Annie when the chap pounded up on his great horse, astonished and alarmed for he seemed so mad about something, looking as though for two pins he was going to knock Annie for six, which of course, Phoebe wouldn't allow. He'd have to kill her first! The dogs evidently thought so too, barking furiously and standing stiff legged and menacing in the face of his threat to those they had in their care. The man's dog, who was close at his heels, bared her teeth, the warning silent and hazardous
.

But
Blackie
and Bonnie did not back off. They stood their ground, young as they were, and it was not until the man, with a slight movement of his hand, commanded his own animal to lie down, that order was restored. The two young dogs, with the enthusiasm of youth, were still inclined to bristle, but they lay down too, one on either side of Cat, evidently deciding that, being the youngest and smallest, she was the most in need of defending
.

Phoebe stood up when Annie did, the strips for the swill baskets scattering about their feet. The man was evidently under the influence of some strong emotion which he was doing his best to submerge and the only way he seemed able to do so, was by hiding it under another, that of anger. He threw himself from his horse, leaving it standing about untethered, its eyes wild and dangerous, or so Phoebe thought, glad it was on the other side of the wall as the man tore his way through the gate, almost taking it from its hinges.

“
So it's happened, then," he snarled. "You wouldn't be told, would you? My warnings were completely ignored whilst you flaunted yourself about the parish as though you were invisible and therefore in absolutely no danger from the ruffians who hang about looking for women like you who are foolish enough to think they are immune to such ... "

“
Reed Macauley, would you mind telling me what the
devil you're talking about. And I'd be obliged if you'd not come charging into my . . ."

“
I'm talking about you . . . your . . . dammit, Annie Abbott, can you not take more care? Do you have to stride about the countryside after dark . . .
”

His face worked strangely and in his eyes was the most dreadful, haunted expression, one which Annie could not decipher. It contained anger, yes, and a curious fear, a dread which was completely foreign to his arrogant nature. There was something deep, something he was trying to hide. A different emotion to the others, soft, vulnerable, protective, unwelcome
.

She began to understand.

“
It's all they can talk about in my kitchens, apparently, and not just in my kitchens, but in everyone else's it seems, the foolish carryings-on of a woman they believe is no better than she should be and therefore, so my housekeeper informed the housekeeper of an acquaintance of mine, who told me, can it be surprising, they are saying when she gets what she asks for. Smirking he was, the man who told me . . . and . . . and . . .
”

He stopped and ran his hand across his face, pushing it through his hair, the raw and naked anger in him humiliating him since he did not really understand it. His eyes glared savagely into hers. Annie had the most absurd desire to move towards him and take that hand, to bring it to her lips and brush the back of it tenderly, to comfort him and smile, as she would to a child who has been pushed too far and has lost its temper
.

She must have smiled for the snarling blackness of his rage and fear became deeper. He moved closer to her so that they stood face to face.

“
It amuses you, does it, madam, to be interfered with by some drunken old sot, or were you yourself so deep in your cups it scarcely registered? Two sodden toss-pots falling down behind a barrel, so I was told and taking pleasure from one another or perhaps he was a customer ...
“

He was not quite quick enough to catch her arm as she
lifted it to strike him, perhaps too incensed, too crazed with his own boiling emotions to see the sudden ferment of hers. The crack of her hand across his face jerked his head to one side and brought all three dogs to their feet, but it also brought him to his senses, and again he controlled his older, more experienced animal with a gesture of his hand. The violence in the air was a palpable thing, affecting not only the animals, but the two incensed humans.

“
Down,
Blackie
, down, Bonnie, " Annie managed to shriek flinging out her arms to her own trembling animals.

“
Take the dogs inside, Cat, and you, Phoebe, go with her, now, go on.
”

Cat was crying, great fat tears rolling down her cheeks but she allowed Phoebe to take her into the house, each dog dragged reluctantly by the scruff of the neck over the threshwood and the door closed firmly on the still, cold, silent, menacing figures of the man and woman
.

Their eyes were locked, unblinking and without expression. Neither seemed able to look away. They were both breathing deeply as though they had been running and whereas Annie's face was flushed, Reed's was white and drawn except for the imprint of her hand across his cheek.

“
What did he do to you?" His voice was harsh and painful.

“
Nothing."

“
Nothing? Stripped you naked and threw you down behind a barrel, I was told. It's all over the parish and when I came back from Lancaster, it had even reached the inn at Penrith."

“
And you believed it?"