A Dream Rides By (4 page)

‘There,’ Elliott announced. ‘How does that feel?’

‘Yes, better, thank you,’ she answered truthfully.

‘Not too tight? Can you wriggle your toes? If they start feeling cold or you get pins and needles, you must say.’

‘No, it feels fine. So, may I suggest we catch up with everyone? I don’t want you all missing the fun because of me.’

‘And, as shareholders in the line, we must get back to the official party,’ Rose declared.

Her husband nodded. ‘Let’s just see if this young lady can walk, shall we?’

Ling’s cheeks burned with pride as, with a fine gentleman on either side, she was lifted on to her feet. She tentatively put her weight on her injured ankle, but winced as the pain shot up her leg, taking her by surprise as the strapping had made it feel so much more comfortable.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ Elliott suggested. ‘I have my horse outside. Have you ever ridden?’

Ling’s jaw dropped open. She couldn’t believe all this was happening. ‘We have heavy horses at the quarry for pulling the carts, but no one ever rides them,’ she explained in reply.

‘Well, there’s a first time for everything.’ Elliott grinned. ‘Now, lean on me while I get you outside.’

He put one arm about her waist, strongly supporting her so that she was partly leaning against him. Her whole body sizzled at the sensation, but Elliott seemed oblivious to the way her heart was beating like a drum. Outside, a short, heavy shower had evidently interrupted the proceedings. The band had ceased playing and the children from Princetown School had sung their short repertoire. Now the crowds of merrymakers were wending their way towards the sports field. Ling hopped, supported by Elliott’s arm, to where his beautiful horse was tethered, followed by her friends and family. The mare whickered softly as her master approached.

‘Better introduce yourself first,’ Elliott said as the animal nuzzled his shoulder.

‘She’s lovely!’ Ling crooned, stroking the soft, velvety nose. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Ghost. I’ve had her a year, and I’ve never had a moment’s temper from her.’

‘She’s certainly a fine specimen,’ Seth Warrington declared, joining in the conversation and running an expert hand down the creature’s legs. Even Fanny was prompted to hold up her hand, and she giggled when Ghost licked her fingers with her rough tongue.

‘Always hold your hand flat, like so,’ Elliott said, demonstrating. ‘That way you won’t get nipped by mistake.’

But Fanny’s face became shuttered at being addressed by the stranger, and, as Seth and Rose hurried away, Ling’s attention was distracted by Elliott lifting her on to Ghost’s back. She relished his hands on her small waist, surprised by the strength of his lean arms. It felt so peculiar sitting aloft on the mare’s back and she was frightened she might slide off at any moment! She clung on tightly to what Elliott had called the pommel, and, every few strides, as he led Ghost forward, he looked up to make sure she was safe. And, each time he did so, she bristled with excitement.

As they joined in the mass exodus towards the sports field, the sun decided to show its face for the first time that day. Ling was hailed by so many: neighbours from Foggintor and strangers enquiring as to her health, since just about everyone had heard of the near tragedy. It was kind of them, but she would much rather be left alone to engage in private conversation with Mr Franfield!

Ling’s family had already found a space alongside the marked lines. Mary had brought two rugs, and Ling quivered with quiet expectancy as Elliott lifted her down from Ghost, his hands tightly about her waist once more, and set her upon one of the rugs, while Arthur and Mary sat on the other. Ling could scarcely believe it when, after disappearing for ten minutes to find stabling for Ghost at one of the nearby inns, Elliott returned to sit beside her. She noticed Barney and her own group of friends further along on the opposite side of the running track. She caught Barney glaring across, his face clamped in disgruntled lines, but she pretended she hadn’t seen him. This was an afternoon of a lifetime, and her young mind told her to make the most of every second!

‘Are you sure you’re comfortable, Miss Southcott?’ Elliott asked.

‘Why, yes, thank you. But I really must insist that you call me Ling.’

‘It’s a most unusual name,’ he commented, and Ling’s heart beat a little faster at what appeared to be genuine interest.

‘Oh, it isn’t my proper name,’ she explained. ‘My real name’s Heather, but ling is the kind of heather that grows most commonly on the moor. Father always said I reminded him of it, small but strong-willed. I’m always getting into scrapes, you see,’ she confided with a grimace. ‘Of course, I’ve grown quite tall now, but the name stuck. So that’s why I’ve come to be known as Ling rather than Heather. Silly, really.’

‘On the contrary, I think it’s rather lovely.’ Elliott’s clear blue eyes were directed straight at hers, making the breath quicken in her throat. ‘Your father said he’s a quarryman, and Mrs Warrington mentioned that you’re a school assistant?’ He lent an enquiring tone to his voice, unconsciously tipping his head a little as he spoke, making Ling feel even more confident.

‘That’s right. Mr Norrish – he’s the schoolmaster – he taught me. I loved school so much that he gave me extra lessons, and now I’ve been his assistant for three years. It’s ideal, and it means I don’t have to go into service. I’d hate that!’ She snatched in her breath, her lips closing in a soft knot, and lowered her eyes. Oh, no! She’d ruined everything! ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she scarcely murmured. ‘No doubt you have servants and expect them to know their place.’

Elliott seemed to stare right through her, but then his mouth spread in a teasing grin. ‘Yes, we have servants. Two, anyway. And yes, my parents expect them to toe the line, my mother especially, but I think we treat them quite kindly.’ He half turned away, so that he was looking at her askew with one eyebrow raised cheekily. ‘But I think I can see that you’d find it hard to know your place. And I mean that as a compliment. You are quite forward for a young lady, but in the most charming way. And most level headed. Most girls would have turned to jelly at the fright you’ve just had.’

‘Oh, but I hardly had time to be afeared.’ She glanced back at him, her eyes wide. It seemed she could be herself with Elliott Franfield, and he even
liked
her for it! ‘The train, though, it’s a wonderful sight, don’t you think?’ she went on, wanting to turn the conversation away from herself. ‘It runs right past where we live. And it’ll make such a difference to everyone’s lives.’

‘Yes, I imagine it will. It’s really quite isolated up here. Especially if you don’t have a horse to ride which I doubt many do.’

‘Well, no. And that’s why you caused such a stir yourself, racing the train like that.’

Elliott shook his head with a soft laugh that endeared him to Ling even further. ‘Oh, I wasn’t actually racing. I just wanted to be at the station in time. To witness the historic moment. I hadn’t intended to stay on for the celebrations, not knowing anyone here. But –’ and Ling noticed a slight hesitation, perhaps of awkwardness – ‘now I’ve met you, it’s different.’

For a long, exquisite moment, the world about her seemed to fall away, and a delicious warmth seeped through Ling’s veins as she gazed at the suddenly serious face of the handsome young gentleman. Never in a million years would she have imagined herself sitting on a rug and chatting so freely to someone from a class so far above her own. She wanted to wrap the sensation in a little box and store it in her heart for ever.

‘Oh, they’re off!’ she cried as a general cheer drew her attention to the starting line.

She saw Elliott’s face light with amusement. ‘Oh, just look at them!’ he chuckled, and Ling leaned forward to watch a higgledy-piggledy line of toddlers being chivvied along by their parents. Races for older children followed, spectators shouting encouragement and applauding as the competitors reached the finishing line. When one of Ling’s pupils was involved she did the same, joining with abandon the high spirits all around them.

‘I can see why you love your work. You’re very fond of your children, aren’t you?’

Ling nodded, appreciating the way he called them
her
children. ‘Yes, I am. I have the odd rascal, but I see that as a challenge. And you?’ she dared to ask. ‘You look as if you’re enjoying watching them too.’

‘Oh, I love children. I think you and I share something there. You with your pupils, and me with my patients. Or rather, Dr Greenwood’s patients at the moment, but my own when I’m qualified. As a physician, you must
feel
for the people in your care. Some doctors like to consider themselves tin gods, and others are so engrossed in the workings of the human body that they forget there’s a real person inside. But I think patients must recover more quickly if they feel you’re really involved in their welfare. Dr Greenwood, now. You can see at once how much he genuinely cares. And not just for his wealthier patients. He still stands in as Medical Officer at the workhouse occasionally, and he’s just the same there. That’s the sort of doctor I want to be.’

Their eyes met fleetingly, a common bond seeming to spin its web about them. But just then the crowd exploded into raucous hilarity as the first adult competition began, a donkey race, when one man had to carry another on his back to a halfway point where they had to change over. Ling was aware of Elliott’s diversion beside her, and somehow it pleased her no end. Other races followed, adult wheelbarrow and steeplechases, and Barney threw a proud glance in Ling’s direction, deliberately swelling his chest as he won every race he competed in. Ling waved back heartily, then curbed her congratulations as she felt her father’s eyes on her.

‘Father’s not too happy with Barney,’ she whispered, and suddenly her face sparked with mischief. ‘Why don’t you join in? I’m sure you’d win!’

Elliott recoiled slightly. ‘Well, I don’t know,’ he muttered. ‘Do you think they’d let me? Not being local, I mean?’

‘Oh, I’m sure it would be all right. Let me give you this,’ she said, giving him her clean handkerchief. ‘It can be my favour, and you can be my knight. Like in days of old,’ she said, grinning.

‘In that case, how can I refuse, milady?’ He rose to his feet, bowing deeply and making Ling giggle. He removed his coat, hurrying away jauntily and was lost in the crowd.

A few minutes later, Ling was sitting forward as the line of young men flew down the track. She held her breath as Barney and Elliott out-streaked the rest of the field, running neck and neck as they charged across the finishing line. The crowd burst into deafening ovation, and Ling was bouncing up and down as she clapped with gusto.

It was then that she caught the fury stamped on Barney’s features, even though it was being announced that the race had ended in a dead heat. But she chose to ignore it as Elliott came towards her and flung himself down on the rug.

‘Ooph!’ he breathed out heavily. ‘I haven’t run like that since I was at school. It was quite exhilarating. Perhaps I should seek out a sports club when I go to London. It would help keep me fit and healthy.’

A shadow darkened Ling’s heart. In a few weeks’ time, Elliott would be going to the capital to study for years on end and she would never see him again. They had passed the day most pleasantly, but he belonged to a different world and no doubt his mind, unlike hers, was not wandering dreamily into a future that could never be.

She shook her head, throwing out the fantasy. She should not allow its impossibility to mar the rest of the day. The races were over, and Ling hobbled on Elliott’s arm to the recreation room where the adult tea was being served – and where there was much interest in the amiable young gentleman who had saved Ling’s life!

‘And now I should take you home on Ghost, Miss Southcott,’ Elliott announced when the tea was over, ‘as I cannot imagine how else you can manage.’

Ling’s heart dropped. She had been surprised how she herself had so naturally fallen in with his refined speech, but the day was nearly over and soon she would be bidding him farewell.

‘Will you not stay for the fireworks?’ she asked optimistically when her parents had gone in search of Fanny, who had partaken of the free children’s refreshments. ‘There’s to be a dance afterwards, though that will be of no use to me!’ she joked mildly.

‘Fireworks?’

‘Yes. They say it’ll light the whole sky, though I’ve never seen any myself afore.’

‘Then I cannot prevent your enjoyment. But surely it must be dark to appreciate them fully?’

‘Oh, it’ll be dark in an hour or so if you don’t mind waiting. But . . . I suppose your parents will be worrying.’

‘Oh, no,’ Elliott assured her. ‘It infuriates my mother, but she knows I’m the most appalling timekeeper. It comes with my line of work, you see. If I’m out on a case with Dr Greenwood, well, it can take all night sometimes. No, I should like to watch the spectacle myself, and I’ll take you home afterwards. If you don’t mind waiting ten minutes, though, I’d like to check on Ghost.’

No. Ling did not mind waiting at all. Not if it meant the dream could last a few hours longer.

Ling gasped in wonderment as the first rocket exploded into a rippling orb of silvery stars and then cascaded earthward in a breathtaking shower of glittering rain. The marvelling crowd stared up at the awesome sight, some shrieking their delight but most, like Ling, dumbfounded by the spectacular display. The dazzling pinpoints of colour slashed through the darkness, falling gently until their shimmering radiance faded and they died on the air like soft spirits of the night. The twinkling reflections spangled in Ling’s eyes, and when she glanced up at Elliott her face was alive with wide-eyed amazement. A magical conclusion to a magical day, and she didn’t want it to end.

While others had waited impatiently for darkness to fall, Ling had relished every minute. Elliott had told her about the London hospital where he would be training and how he couldn’t wait to begin his studies – unaware that he was twisting the knife in her side. His father was a wealthy merchant dealing in fine furniture, his business being in Plymouth although he preferred to live in Tavistock. Mrs Franfield had wanted Elliott to follow in his father’s lucrative footsteps and had been appalled when her son had announced his intention to become a physician instead. But Mr Franfield had convinced his wife that it was a commendable profession, and she had finally relented.