For a Father's Pride (7 page)

Daisy picked her way carefully across the track, lifting up her long skirts and taking note of the wires and points along the track, before following her husband-to-be up the steps to the signal
box. It was quite cosy inside. The kettle was boiling on a small coal stove, and she was immediately made welcome by the beaming red face of Bert, as he shook her hand.

‘What are all these levers for?’ Daisy looked at the handles. There were some pointing up and others down, in preparation for the passing trains.

Bert grinned. ‘Aye, lass, these are for the signals, and these are for the points, so that I can put the trains on the right track. But don’t ask me – your fella here will tell
you all. He’s the man for the job.’ Bert patted Bob on his back and grinned as he passed Daisy a steaming brew in an enamel cup.

‘This lever sends trains up to Leeds and London, and this one’s for the track down to Carlisle.’ Bob’s voice was full of pride.

‘But surely it’s up to Carlisle and down to Leeds, from where we are?’ asked Daisy, showing interest in the work of her husband-to-be.

‘No, it’s up to the city of London, and down to the country – the opposite to what you think. That’s what we’ve been taught.’

‘That’s not right at all.’ Daisy laughed as she took a swig of her tea. Just then a bell on the cabin wall rang.

‘That’ll be the four-fifteen,’ Bert announced, as the train set about making its way down the line.

‘See, my love. I’m only just over the other side of the track from you – never too far from your side.’ Bob squeezed Daisy’s hand.

‘Now then, you lovebirds, you are going to make an old man blush.’ Bert winked as he pulled the lever back into place, as the steaming engine and its carriages rattled past the
signal box. The smell and smoke from the engine filled the box as the driver blew the whistle to show his thanks.

‘Ta for showing Daisy the box, Bert. We’d better go now; don’t want to get you into bother, because I know visitors in the box are against the rules.’

‘Aye well, good luck with your wedding. You make a grand pair.’ Bert shook Daisy’s hand as she turned at the top of the stairs leading down to the track.

‘He’s a good man, is Bert. Comes from Settle, loves his job. Even when he’s not working, he tries to travel on a train anywhere in the country. Other day he said he’d
gone to Blackpool, and stopped in one of those cheap boarding houses on the Golden Mile that they advertise on the station posters. Imagine Blackpool! They say it’s the place to go to at the
moment. I can just see Bert in a bathing costume, dipping his toe in the Irish Sea.’

Both Daisy and Bob laughed at the thought of the rotund Bert with bathing trunks on.

‘He says he’s going to go to London one day, on the train. Imagine going to London – by, that’s a long way, and a different world from here.’ Bob went quiet,
imagining the bustling streets of London and his mate Bert walking them.

The courting couple walked hand-in-hand along the path leading back to Gearstones Lodge. The wind gently blew the smell of peat over their faces, and the slight warmth of the setting sun glowed
on their skin and on the flanks of the three great peaks of Whernside, Ingleborough and Pen-y-ghent, making them look like sleeping golden lions. Daisy had been trying to pluck up the courage all
day to tell Bob her news.

‘Bob, my love, you know that when we are married I said I’d give over working at Gearstones Lodge? Well, I’m in a bit of a spot. I can’t let Jenny down completely.
She’d be lost without me. Would you mind if I stayed working for her, just for perhaps one or two days a week? She’s so busy. Just until she’s found someone to replace me?’
Daisy knew she should show some commitment to Jenny, for it had been her who had saved her on that terrible night. ‘Please say you understand. I can’t leave Jenny in the lurch.’
She looked up into Bob’s eyes, sensing that they seemed troubled.

‘I thought you were only going to look after me when we got married, and that Gearstones Lodge was going to be a thing of the past. That Jenny owes you, lass – she’s not paid
you a penny since you first stopped there.’ Bob scowled.

‘But I’ve bed and board for nothing. If she hadn’t taken me in that night, I don’t know where I’d have been by now. It would just be for a week or two after we wed,
and then Jenny will have to find someone else.’ Daisy stood on her toes and kissed him gently on the cheek.

‘Well, make sure that it is. A woman’s place is in her home, looking after her man, not flaunting herself about in them lodgings.’ Bob’s voice was cold and matched the
look in his steely eyes.

Daisy was taken aback by his harsh words. Bob was usually gentle, and had never once voiced his opinion about her working for Jenny. The walk back home was done in silence, with only the sound
of the resting lapwings and curlews. The goodnight kiss outside Daisy’s door was cold and reserved. For a moment she wondered if she was doing the right thing. She’d learned to be
independent since being thrown out of her family, and now she was going to have to become a wife, doing what her husband bade her.

‘Oh, Daisy, you look beautiful. When I saw it in Tenby’s store in Bradford, I had to have it for you. And don’t say a word. I could hardly deny you a dress,
for all you have done for me over the past few years.’ Jenny stood back and admired the blushing Daisy. ‘Bob will just want to eat you, looking like that. I hope he’s got a decent
bed in that house of his, because he’ll be using it tonight!’ Jenny laughed a crude chuckle, and Daisy’s complexion reddened to the same colour as the roses that she held in her
hand.

‘I don’t know how to thank you, Jenny.’ Daisy ran her hand down the frills and lace that adorned her wedding dress.

‘Well, we couldn’t have you marrying in that dull stripy thing you were starching the other day. Good Lord, lass, this is your day to shine.’ Jenny put her hands on her hips
and grinned. ‘Mike’s downstairs. He’s decorated two traps and is waiting to take you to the church. The girls have set the drawing room for your wedding breakfast, so the
day’s yours and Bob’s, my girl. So try and look like you’ll enjoy it.’

Daisy smiled and thought about the small Dales church at Chapel-le-Dale and of the vicar who was waiting for them. She was worried about the dress, but that was not her main concern. She was
beginning to have her doubts about the marriage. In fact, if she could, she would have run and hidden somewhere – anywhere – nobody could ever find her. Since the day they had set their
wedding date, and the walk back from the visit to the signal box, Bob had become more interested in keeping her at home and becoming a mother to the family he had secretly dreamed of for years, it
would seem. Daisy was beginning to feel smothered by his demands. The wedding night she was dreading, for she knew Bob would expect her to be his, and more besides, and she feared his advances. A
tear started to fall silently down her cheeks, and her hands trembled as she held the rose bouquet, watching a petal fall to the ground. She couldn’t help but think she was like that petal:
falling and alone, without support of others from this day onwards. A married woman who had to do her husband’s bidding. And if he wanted a family, then she would have to give him some, even
if she couldn’t abide the thought of holding a baby.

‘Daisy, love, why the tears?’ Jenny looked at the woman she had come to think of as a younger sister and squeezed her arm tightly.

‘Just sad to leave here – you’ve been so good to me.’ Daisy wiped away the telltale signs of unhappiness.

‘Not nerves, then? Everyone gets them.’ Jenny fussed around her and then turned to look in the dresser’s mirror, at her own finely placed hat, its feathers drooping over one of
her eyes.

‘No, it’s not nerves. I’m just . . .’ Daisy looked at the puzzled face, not wanting to tell her secrets.

‘Let’s go then. Mike’s waited long enough. The horses will be getting impatient.’

Daisy sniffed hard and pulled herself together. After today she would be Mrs Lambert – for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer – and she would have to be dutiful to her
husband, no matter what he asked. No respectable woman could want more than that, and it was time to value what she had and not complain.

‘That’s my girl – go and get him! Even the sun’s come out for you.’ Jenny pulled back the lace curtains and knocked on the window, to let Mike know that the bridal
party was on its way. She kissed Daisy on the cheek and whispered, ‘Be happy’, before Daisy descended Gearstones’ grand stairway.

‘Goodbye, room. I’ve been happy here.’ Daisy gave her home of the last few years a quick glance before following Jenny. Even though she knew she’d be back in the kitchen
during the following days, things were going to change from the next hour onwards. She would no longer be free to do as she pleased, and she hadn’t realized how precious her freedom had been.
Her thoughts were also with her parents. They wouldn’t know that on this day she was getting married, that she was to start married life without their blessing. A tear filled her eye as she
remembered Kitty’s wedding day and the fuss that had surrounded it. She had no kin to walk her down the aisle, and no dowry. Still, what did it matter? She’d the Pratts as a good
substitute for family, and a husband waiting for her. She steadied her nerves, wiping the tear away, and smiled. No good dwelling on the past. Today was her wedding day – a fresh start.

‘Come on, lady, your carriage awaits.’ Mike held out his hand and helped Daisy up the steps into the trap.

It was quiet on the road outside. Gone were the navvies’ huts and the makeshift hospital; gone the sound of hammers hitting the hard granite rock and the noise of workers that there had
been in months past. Instead there was the solitary cry of a curlew circling the lonely fell, looking for its mate. The huge twenty-four-arched viaduct spanning the dale disappeared within the
bowels of Whernside. Things were changing. Daisy was to be married and would make Blea Moor her home.

‘Come on, lass, let’s do it.’ Mike patted her hand and then jollied the horses into motion. He was going to miss the quiet Daisy, but she was marrying what he thought a good
man, and that was all that mattered.

Daisy stepped down from the trap and entered the small Dales church on Mike’s arm. The ancient arch of the church doorway was decorated with nodding dog-daisies entwined with the blue of
cranesbill, brightening the ancient stonework in honour of the marriage. In the ray of light amid the darkness of the small church a smiling Bob turned, as the organ started playing the wedding
march. Daisy noticed his face cloud over slightly as he looked at the dress she was wearing, but thought no more of it, as the vicar sped through the wedding vows, with Bob dutifully repeating the
vows after Daisy until the vicar finally declared them husband and wife in a gusty finish. Bob gripped her arm tightly as she walked down the aisle, smiling at people.

‘Where did you get that hideous dress? It looks like a cheap whore’s,’ he whispered, while smiling at the few guests who had witnessed the wedding.

‘Jenny . . .’ Daisy tried to speak.

‘Should have known. You get it off as soon as we are home, and I never want to see it again,’ muttered Bob under his breath, before shaking John’s hand and accepting his good
wishes. He pulled Daisy to one side, out of earshot of the guests. ‘You’re my wife, and you’ll dress like a railwayman’s wife from now on, not like some tart.’

Daisy could feel the tears welling up inside her. What had happened to the sweet Bob she had known? Was this how he was going to treat her, now that she was his wife? He held his hand out and
helped Daisy into the trap, not saying a word to her.

All through the wedding breakfast Bob kept looking at Daisy and her dress. Never had he seen such a waste of frills and lace. He loved his Daisy plain and pure; she
didn’t need the flounces of a town girl. Good manners demanded that he comment to Jenny on how lovely the wedding breakfast was, only for him to curse her under his breath for being so
over-the-top with her elaboration on what should have been a simple Dales wedding, whispering to Daisy that there had been no need for anything so decadent, and that it was all too vulgar for his
taste.

Daisy was exhausted with anxiety by the time they left for their new home. Bob strode out along the fell track yards ahead of her, urging her onwards as she tried to catch him up in her petite
wedding boots, which seemed to catch in every strand of heather.

‘You can take them disgusting rags off now. Every man was looking at you, dressed like that. I couldn’t believe it. I love you in plain, simple clothes; there was no need to dress
like them at Gearstones. I love you for you, not your finery.’ Bob slammed the front door of their new home behind them.

‘I was the bride, Bob – that’s why.’ Daisy pulled her tightly laced boots off her aching feet. ‘Everyone admires the bride. That’s all they were doing.
Besides, I’ve only got eyes for you.’ She snivelled as her fingers trembled, undoing the beautiful buttons of her tight-fitting bodice. She finally stood in her bloomers and corset on
the cold stone flags of the kitchen, while Bob paced the floor, running his hands through his grey hair.

‘I thought you were different from other women. I thought you were sensible and would make a good wife. And now you want to keep working. I love you for how sweet and innocent you are, and
today is tarnished by them at Gearstones making us out to be something we aren’t, and asking you to work, when I want you at home with me.’ Bob was nearly in tears, as he held his head
in his hands over the kitchen table.

‘All I want is you, Bob. I love you. This dress and the fancy wedding breakfast mean nothing to me. It’s you I love, and if you want me not to work, then I’ll tell Jenny in the
morning. Don’t let’s argue on our wedding day,’ Daisy sobbed.

‘I love you, Daisy. I’m sorry, but I’m an old-fashioned man, with old-fashioned ideas. I want roses round this cottage’s door, and three or four children for when I grow
old, to look after me.’ Bob reached for Daisy’s hand and smiled as she came near him.