Briar Patch (12 page)

‘Well, you'll have to pray there's a brat on the way,' Harry said bitterly. ‘You wanted children. I wanted a loving wife. We shall both go short – but you'll have a home and the money. I dare say that will content you.'

‘Won't you give me a chance? If you're patient I'll learn to do what you want.'

‘I don't want you to pretend for me.' He walked towards the door. She grabbed at his arm but he threw her hand off. ‘Go back to bed, Roz.'

‘Please don't leave me like this. We are married. I'll learn to be a proper wife to you, Harry.'

‘I've told you I don't want that,' he said. ‘I thought you would at least be warm and giving in bed and that I could make you love me in time – but I don't think that's going to happen, is it? I'm going to find somewhere else to sleep. In Paris we'll have separate rooms.' Harry looked so hurt. Roz knew that she had spoiled everything. He wasn't a cruel man but what she'd done by not telling him about the rape before they married was unforgivable. Perhaps later, when it didn't hurt so much, he might understand that she, too, was hurting.

‘We're still going to Paris?'

‘Of course. As far as the world is concerned, we're the perfect couple. I shan't trouble you at night and you won't question where I go when I stay out late.'

Roz stared at the door as he went out and closed it with a snap. She sat on the edge of the bed, silent tears running down her cheeks. She'd never wanted to marry him, but recently she'd begun to respect and like him – now he despised her.

Eight

‘You look as if you've found sixpence and lost a crown.' Ellen rolled out the shortcrust pastry she was making. ‘Why the long face, Tom? You've asked Mary Jane to wed you so why look so miserable? Surely you haven't changed your mind? It took you long enough to ask her.'

‘Don't nag me, Ma. I've something on my mind and its naught to do with you so best not ask.'

‘If you won't tell me, you won't. See if you can find your father. He didn't come in last night. I don't know where he's getting the money to drink so much.' She went to the dresser and took down her best teapot, giving an exclamation of annoyance. ‘The lid has been chipped – and half the money's gone. The thieving wretch! You won that for Carrie.'

‘She doesn't want for much.' Tom frowned. ‘The harvest was good this year. We'll have money left over after the seed and stores are bought for the winter. I'm going to start an account at the bank in Wisbech when I drive in next time. It's time we put the money somewhere safe until we need it.'

‘Your pa doesn't hold with banks, Tom. He remembers when there was a run on them and a lot of folk lost their money.'

‘The bank I'm talking of is solid enough. Besides, I earned the money and there's no need for him to know. I want to save the surplus for the future – for all of us.'

‘I'm not sure. It's your pa's farm . . .'

‘And he'd let it go to rack and ruin. It's my management that has brought the extra in and I'll decide how it's spent. The Rushden family started out as farmers and look at them now – worth a fortune. We need more land. I've got my eye on ten acres of pasture. With that I could increase the beef herd and that will bring in more money for next year. I could double our acreage in a few years.'

‘And how are you going to manage more land and stock? You'll need to bring them in to feed through the winter.'

‘Aye, I know, that's why I thought I'd wait until the spring to buy. I can build another pen next year and I'll hire some spring grass as well and keep our hay for the winter.'

‘You're full of big ideas, lad – but your pa will have something to say to all this.' Ellen thumped the pastry down on the table.

‘That pastry will be as heavy as lead the way you're going,' Tom teased and earned a glare from his mother.

‘You're not mooning over the Thornton girl, are you?'

‘That's a daft thing to ask. She would never look at me – and I've asked Mary Jane to wed me. I'm away down to the wild meadow. If I see Pa I'll send him home.'

He went out without glancing at his mother. She was right; he was mooning over Roz. He hadn't been able to get her out of his mind since he'd seen her outside the church. She'd looked so beautiful and he'd wanted to snatch her up and run off with her. A wry smile touched his mouth as he thought of her likely reaction if he'd tried.

Yet for a moment she'd looked scared, as if she wished she could run away and not marry the man waiting for her. In his dreams, Tom found her weeping and lost in the meadows. In his dreams, she ran into his arms and he loved her in the long sweet grass while a lark sang in the sky high above their heads. In his dreams he was a successful man, wealthy enough to give her the home she deserved.

Tom's thoughts were rudely interrupted as he saw his father walking towards him. Lurching might be a better word because John Blake was drunk, muttering and grumbling to himself. When he saw his son he yelled something abusive and then, before Tom could reach him, pitched forward and fell to the ground.

‘Pa.' Tom raced towards him, turning him over on his back. His father was muttering but something was wrong. He had been drinking because the smell of whisky was on him, but his mouth seemed to have dropped on one side and his face was screwed up. ‘Pa, wake up. I'll get you home. You need to be in bed.'

His father didn't answer, making unintelligible sounds and dribbling from the side of his mouth. Tom suddenly felt anxious. He bent down and lifted his father under his armpits, his strength easing him up until he could lift him in his arms and over one shoulder. John Blake was still heavy despite starving himself for weeks. It was a huge burden for any man to carry and Tom was staggering under his weight by the time he reached the house, but his mother saw him coming and had the kitchen door open before he got there.

‘Put him on the sofa, Tom. Is he drunk?'

‘I think he's had a stroke,' Tom said. ‘I'll saddle the horse and go for the doctor. He was trying to get home when I found him.'

‘Yes, fetch the doctor. Your father's not been himself lately but he's still my husband. I don't want him to die just yet.'

‘He's as strong as a mule. He'll be all right,' Tom promised as he headed for the door. ‘I'll be back before you know it.'

‘He's had a stroke,' the doctor confirmed after making his examination. ‘It was lucky you saw him, Tom. With rest and care, I think he will pull through this time, but we shan't know the damage for a day or two. He may have lost the use of an arm or a leg or it might just be his speech.'

‘He couldn't speak properly when I found him,' Tom said. ‘If I hadn't gone that way he could have lain there for hours.'

‘Well, keep him in bed and watch him for the next day or so. If he has another seizure it might finish him; otherwise he'll probably live for a while yet.'

‘We'll do our best,' Tom promised and led the doctor back down the stairs to the kitchen.

‘How is he, doctor?' Ellen looked concerned as she took a tray of jam tarts from the oven. ‘I dare say he'll want a lot of nursing?'

‘He will need watching for a while, and if he pulls through he may lose the use of some of his limbs. I was telling your son he'll need a lot of care.'

‘Yes, but who's to be up and down them stairs a dozen times a day?'

‘You'll have to make Carrie do her share,' Tom said. ‘I'm off to bring the cows up for milking, Ma.'

‘Well, I'll leave you to it.' The doctor put his hat on and went out.

‘Tom, you know I can't manage alone,' his mother cried in desperation as the door closed behind the doctor. ‘It's no use saying I should make Carrie do more because she will sneak out when my back's turned – besides, John won't have her near him.'

‘She can help milk the cows if I watch her,' Tom said. ‘If I can get my chores done quicker I'll see to pa when I get back.'

‘You're making a rod for your own back. It's time you were married. Ask Mary Jane about setting the banns and bring her back here.'

‘It's hardly fair to expect her to take care of Pa. I may have to take on an extra man sooner than I thought.' Tom frowned. ‘I suppose it's the only way. I'll speak to Mary Jane at the weekend, but I'll be looking for an extra pair of hands to help in the yard at the hiring fair.'

‘You please yourself but you'll have to do something sharp, because I can't do all the work here and nurse your pa alone.'

‘I doubt you could lift him.'

‘Will he need everything done for him?'

‘The doctor said he may recover but at the moment he doesn't seem to be able to move the left side of his body at all.'

‘He's going to be a burden to us all, Tom.'

‘Ma! You don't mean that. You're just tired and worried. I should've done something about hiring an extra man before.'

‘I'll still need someone to help in the house, even if you help with your pa.'

‘I've said I'll speak to Mary Jane,' Tom said. ‘But she'll want a couple of days away at least. You can't expect her to come straight back here and start on her wedding night. So I'll get a local man in and perhaps one of her sisters will help you out in the house until we get back.'

‘I came here on my wedding night, aye, and started work the next day. I don't know where you get your fancy notions, Tom Blake – wedding trip, indeed. That kind of nonsense is for the gentry.'

‘Well, my wife is getting two days and three nights in a hotel somewhere at the sea. We'll go on the train and stop somewhere nice.'

‘Where will your grand ideas end, I wonder,' Ellen grumbled as she got on with the supper. ‘I can hear the cows. You'd best away to the milking.'

Tom inclined his head and left the kitchen. He didn't know where the idea of a trip to the sea had come from either, but it was in his head now and he was determined not to give it up. The farm had prospered because since Dick's death he'd been able to run it as he pleased, and he had coins jingling in his pocket. He would take Mary Jane to a hotel on their wedding night and then they would have a trip to the sea. Tom wasn't sure how much it cost to stay in a hotel, but he would manage it somehow.

Ellen stood in the bedroom doorway and stared at her husband. She would never have wed him if she hadn't got caught with Dick. The night she'd lain with John Blake in the meadows she'd had too much drink at the harvest supper – and she'd been suffering from rejection. Squire Thornton had come visiting at the rectory too often for it to be on church business. He had flirted with the rector's pretty daughter, stealing a kiss whenever he could get her away from her mother's watchful eye.

Ellen had fallen in love against her better judgement. Even in those days the squire had acquired a reputation, but he hadn't been married then and she was a gentleman's daughter, even if her father had no money. Ellen didn't see why the squire wouldn't wed her, but she resisted giving him his way and then, just before the harvest service of thanksgiving, she'd learned that he was to wed a girl with a fortune.

It was in a fit of pique that Ellen had drunk too much cider and given herself to John Blake in the meadows. She had regretted her marriage many times over the years, but with Dick on the way she'd had no choice. Her husband was snoring, his mouth hanging open. She thought the doctor had given him something to make him sleep. Her first reaction when Tom brought him home was that she didn't want him to die, but how long would it be before she was wishing he would never wake up? She laughed at Tom's plans for the future, but her younger son was eager to make a better life for them all and she wouldn't say no to having a little time to herself. Tom was a great reader and she'd borrowed some of the books Miss Thornton had brought for him, snatching a minute here and there to read a few pages herself.

There would be no leisure time for either of them if they had to wait hand and foot on John Blake. He'd have them up and down the stairs a dozen times a day. She walked closer to the bed, staring at the spare pillow lying beside him. He was suffering. Life couldn't mean much to him now. It might be better for everyone if he were dead. If she picked it up and held it over his face . . . the thought made her go cold all over.

As if he could read her mind, John opened his eyes and looked at her. He didn't speak, just stared at her in a way that sent shivers down her spine and then closed his eyes again. Any feeling of guilt she had fled. If she'd ever cared for him he'd killed her feelings long ago, just as he'd destroyed her hopes.

If looks could kill she'd be the one in her grave.

‘Call the banns this Sunday?' Mary Jane's eyes lit up. ‘I thought you wanted to wait – what made you change your mind?'

‘I shan't lie to you, Mary, lass. Me pa is playing up like the very devil, ever since he came to his senses. Ma won't expect you to see to him but she needs help in the house. I'll be doing as much as I can myself, but even if we take on a girl temporarily as well as a yard man there will be more than she can manage.'

‘So it's another pair of hands you want,' she said and pouted. ‘I thought perhaps you liked what we did the other night and couldn't wait to be wed?'

‘I did and I do want to wed you, lass – but I want you to be sure. You need to know what you're letting yourself in for. It's not a life of ease and luxury I'm offering.'

‘It can't be worse than I've got at home. I'm in the yard milking and feeding the stock morning and night, and in between I've to help Ma with washing and cooking for the eight of us. I reckon it will be a holiday at your house.'