Regret to Inform You... (10 page)

‘Not sure whether I most liked the one that went wrong or the last one,' whispered Isabella de Maine with a smile to her husband. All wondered what was to follow.

‘I have great pleasure in introducing our next performer who will give us a rendition of one of Rudyard Kipling's great poems. Ladies and gentlemen, Major de Maine.'

Many
were surprised that it was the manor owner who now came on stage, a man considered by most to be aloof through rank and, as he was perceived by his behaviour, his birthright. Now he took centre stage, bowed, announcing: ‘The poem “If ”, by Rudyard Kipling.' As he opened with the words, “If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs”, Abraham, Jack, Willy, Fred and Albert all found themselves silently reciting it along with the major. No whisper, no cough, nothing interrupted the major's recitation as he delivered Kipling's words with great composure; at the end there were calls for more. This sixty-year-old with his strong military bearing stood, slightly embarrassed, and announced: ‘Another great poet of our times is John Masefield who wrote
Sea Fever
.' Whilst it was unknown by the audience, they were enthralled by both the words of the sea's magic spell and by the major's tone. The applause rang out.

As he unassumingly bowed and stepped off the stage, Fred Jackson took his place, held up his hand and added his thanks to the three entertainers. He announced that there would be two more communal songs before a break to have glasses filled and food eaten. ‘So, my friends,' he smilingly announced, ‘Miss Small and our fabulous trio will now lead us in singing two songs: you all know “Where Did You Get That Hat?”; the second one is probably new to you, but I heard that Hezekiah Freeman has a good voice and I have persuaded him to join with me in leading the singing. We will lead the way. If you don't know, it's called “I'm Henery the Eighth I Am”.' To further cheers and accompanying wonderment, Hezekiah stepped carefully on to the stage and joined Fred Jackson.

After the first song Miss Small gave the trio a nod and they played the chorus of the next through once. On a repeat, the duet sang together, well in tune it was agreed. ‘Now, everyone join in after listening to the tune once more!' To increasingly raucous cheers, the four players struck up again and led by the two stage performers all joined in. After well-timed bows
by
Hezekiah and Fred Jackson, all were invited to a twenty-minute break.

At this announcement there was considerable movement with many moving towards the bar and food counter. There was much chatter about the evening's entertainment and expressions of surprise at the previously unrecognised talents of the quiet, older men: Robert Berry, Hezekiah Freeman and Major de Maine. All agreed that it was a wonderful evening with a lot more to look forward to in the second part.

T
WELVE

Evening, Wednesday, 3 April

As the interval was announced, it was to Grace Reynolds that Abraham walked, appearing to stroll in a nonchalant way, but in truth in more determined vein. ‘Hello Grace, how are you?' smiling in his delightful way at this most attractive girl with golden tresses falling gracefully to her shoulder and a smile to match his own.

‘I'm very well, thank you Abraham. What a splendid evening with everyone enjoying themselves and how splendidly people are dressed.'

Whilst nicknamed Racer by most in the village, Grace had always liked the name Abraham and through all the years they had shared the same classes, she refused to use the nickname adopted by most when his athletic qualities had become so obvious.

‘Indeed, they are,' agreed Racer. ‘And Grace, I would just say what a lovely frock it is that you are wearing.'

‘Thank you. That's very sweet of you. I'm glad you like it.' The slight blush lighting up her pretty face was of pleasure, not embarrassment. She had always thought of him as a dear friend vying to be top of the class at school, but taking as much pleasure in the other's success as their own.

‘Grace, can I get you a drink?'

‘
Thank you. That would be lovely.' Most had already obtained their drinks or were in the queue for beer, so he was back within minutes, carrying two matching drinks. ‘I know we see each other quite often Grace, but we're both so busy working for Mr and Mrs Mansfield that we don't seem to have time to talk with each other. How are you getting on?'

‘Very well thank you, although I wish I had time to give mother more help with all of the children, but that's how it is with such a large family. Abraham, we've known each other almost all our lives and I know you can keep a secret.' He smiled reassurance, looking with fresh eyes at what a beautiful girl Grace had become. She was the oldest of ten children and the thought went through Racer's mind that it was a wonder she could always look so smart from such a crowded household.

Abraham led her to a quieter part of the barn where both could sit. ‘Do tell me,' he said. ‘You know I will keep everything to myself. I'm flattered that you should want to tell me.'

‘You will be surprised,' she continued haltingly, ‘that Mrs Mansfield has suggested I might like to become a teacher. Imagine that!' she added with a smile.

‘It sounds a great idea,' Abraham replied. ‘Tell me about it.'

‘Well, she knows I did well at school and has seen me teaching the children in the Sunday school and was kind enough to say that I have a way with children.' She was thrilled to see that her old school friend was giving her his full attention. Some might laugh and accuse her of having ideas above her station, but she knew that Abraham would not be like that. ‘She says that there is a college in Canchester where I could go and even indicated that she had made enquiries and that I could probably get a grant. If not, that I could carry on doing some work at the farmhouse and she and Mr Mansfield would pay my fees. Isn't that amazingly kind of them?'

Doris and Albert had come to sit on the straw-covered barn floor just a few feet away, but their conversation seemed
as
earnest as the one he and Grace were having. Nevertheless, Abraham kept his voice down when he said, ‘I'm sure you'd make a great teacher.' He briefly and gently laid his hand on Grace's arm and was thrilled that she didn't move it away.

‘That's sweet of you to say so, Abraham, and what about you? I know you are doing amazing things in running, but what about your work?' she asked, looking him steadfastly in the eye. ‘I hear good reports,' she added with a smile.

‘Very well, I think. Mr Mansfield is a really good boss. He's so up to date with what's happening in farming. I happened to go into his office the other day and I've never seen so many farming magazines.' Grace nodded, as Abraham realised, she would often go into his room to clean. ‘He talks about moving more towards arable crops, saying that you must see what kind of farming gives the best financial return. Grace, you just said how kind Mrs Mansfield is to you, well, Mr Mansfield is like that, too. You'll never guess what?'

This time it was Grace who rested her hand on Abraham's arm as she encouragingly smiled for him to tell her. ‘Well, he said that there's a course at Steepleton College in September about farm management for one and a half days a week and he wants me to go on it. He said that if I did well and worked really hard I would be able to help with managing the farm in three or four years.'

‘That's wonderful, really wonderful. Oh Abraham, what an exciting future for both of us. How lucky we are.'

As they continued to lightly hold each other's hands, they looked over to the other side of the barn and saw that two men were arguing. One was Lionel de Maine, the other, Bernie Thomas, the evening's fiddle player, and that Lionel appeared the worst for his drink. His father quickly took his son's arm and without any hesitation led him, quite forcibly, out of the barn. He returned a few minutes later and briskly walked over to rejoin his wife who had linked up with Mr and Mrs Mansfield.

‘
My dear Major,' beamed Jack Mansfield, his bushy eyebrows moving slightly with his smile: ‘your rendering of those two poems was splendid, just as everything about tonight is good. How fortunate we are to live in such a place. I know our village has a lot of people who find it hard enough to get by, but the kindness shown to us since we moved here is remarkable.'

‘Amen to that,' added his elegant wife. ‘I wish we could do more for everyone, but maybe this evening goes some way to thank them.'

Mrs de Maine quickly came in on the conversation: ‘Mabel and Jack, we would love you to come over to dinner soon. It would be really nice to have a quiet dinner just for the four of us.' Sebastian de Maine inwardly thanked Isabella for her gentle way of following on from their conversation about seeking advice from Jack Mansfield.

‘That's very kind of you. We would love to, wouldn't we Jack?' The following Thursday was happily agreed, but their conversation was interrupted by Fred Jackson asking everyone to take their places.

As Mabel and Jack Mansfield moved to their seats, she turned to her husband, nodded in the direction of Grace and Abraham, saying, ‘What a splendid couple of youngsters they are.'

‘Indeed,' replied her husband, ‘and I'm so glad you agreed that I should talk to young Abraham about him playing a bigger role in the management of Spinney Farm. I'm not getting any younger and I can't think of a brighter young man than him and I'd bank my reputation on his integrity and loyalty.'

‘I agree, but you'll be all right for a fair number of years yet, Jack,' she smilingly added. ‘Do you think that young Grace and Abraham are becoming attached?'

‘Mabel, what an old romantic you are! They're just old school friends and good company for each other this evening.' Mabel Mansfield smiled to herself, taking her husband's hand as they sat down for the next part of the evening.

Fred
Jackson almost bounced on to the stage. ‘I hope that you are all well fortified with liquid refreshment not to mention the splendid things provided by Mrs Mansfield and others. Thank you to them; let's give a big round of applause.

‘Our entertainers have lavished their excellence upon you, now it's your turn. Time for some dancing and if you don't know the steps, don't worry as all will become plain. Ready for the “Gay Gordons”? Now we want everyone on the floor in pairs, so find a partner and then standing in those pairs, make a big circle.'

The younger men moved with considerable speed to find a partner, Abraham to Grace, Albert to Doris and Willy to his sister Ruby; the older men were a little more reluctant although Major de Maine and Mr Mansfield quickly helped make the circle with their wives. ‘Now, I'm going to ask our musicians to play and we'll all join in,' announced the compère. ‘I'll call out the instructions and don't worry if you get something wrong. Just try not to knock each other over!'

The quartet struck up and all joined in. After a few minutes all went well although as Willy remarked to his sister, ‘It's just as well it's not too light in here to show up where I go wrong.'

‘Oh Willy, you dance very well. It's really good fun. Where did Lionel go?'

‘I really don't know,' replied Willy. ‘Let's just enjoy the dancing.' And everyone did. There followed similar instruction for the “Military Two-Step” and whilst some of the footwork was not embraced by all, the result was greatly enjoyed. Abraham noticed that Albert and Doris Groves made off to the darkest corner of the barn where they sat together on the deep layer of straw.

After the dances, there followed much light-hearted talk with most apologising to partner for treading on toes. Folk found somewhere to sit with a few filling up their glasses. Fred Jackson took to the stage again and announced that by popular request all were invited to join in singing “Daisy, Daisy” again.
Whilst
this twenty-year-old favourite was being sung with great gusto, few noticed that Eleanor Windle had moved from the guest seats.

There was little doubt why Albert and Doris had found one of the darker areas of the barn. Albert was wondering how far he could go when he realised someone was standing immediately in front of him. ‘Albert, are you ready? It's nearly our turn.' He wondered if it was a knowing smile on Eleanor Windle's pretty face.

Fred Jackson called for silence. ‘Two of our number have particularly fine voices. We are grateful to them for prompting the rest of us in the communal singing, but now you can enjoy them as soloists and then in a duet. It is my great pleasure, first to introduce Mrs Windle. Our vicar's wife needs no further introduction.'

Eleanor stepped on to the stage. Wearing a long crimson skirt with a lighter red blouse she was, indeed, a very attractive soloist. ‘Dear friends,' Eleanor started, ‘just two songs. The first is a poem recently set to music by Edward Elgar: “Dry Those Fair, Those Crystal Eyes”.' Miss Small was the sole accompanist this time as the audience sat enraptured as Eleanor sang. She was known to have a beautiful voice as she was heard with the St Mary's choir, but tonight was different. Few present knew the song, but there was not a movement from her audience and some later admitted to shedding a tear.

Her second song, “I Dreamt that I Dwelt in Marble Halls” was known by some and as Major de Maine remarked to his wife, ‘That was even more beautiful than the first, and that was lovely.' The applause was great as she gave a delightful, self-effacing curtsey and left the stage.

‘Thank you,' said Fred Jackson who appeared slightly humbled by Eleanor's singing. ‘Now we have another fine singer who may come as a big surprise to you: to sing firstly “Did You Not Hear My Lady” and then “Lead, Kindly Light”: young Albert Jones.'

As
the tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped on to the stage there were both cheers and gasps of surprise. ‘Well,' whispered Abraham to Grace, ‘I know he had a good voice at school and he sings in the church choir, but he has kept quiet about this. Let's hope it's all right.' He was later to admit that his cousin's light baritone voice was the finest he had ever heard. The audience responded with rapturous applause.