Above the Harvest Moon (19 page)
Had she said enough to Adam to make him consider how he saw the future with Hannah? She hoped so. And him saying he wasn’t sure how the lass felt was rubbish. You only had to look at Hannah to see she was fair barmy about him.
A squall of rain against the kitchen window brought Rose’s head turning and she shivered. It wouldn’t be long before the nights began to set in and the weather changed, and there was still no end to the lockout in sight.
Naomi reappeared, shaking the drops of water from her hat. ‘It’s raining, Mam.’
‘Really? And there was me thinking you’d had a bath with your clothes on.’
‘Oh you, our Mam.’
They smiled at each other.
‘Where’s your da?’ Rose asked, no longer smiling.
‘He’s all right. He’s with Joe in the Tavern.’
Another precious few pennies gone on beer.
As though Naomi had read her mind, her daughter said, ‘I gave Da the extra the forewoman slipped me when I stayed behind and cleared up after that vat leaked today. It was only a bob, Mam.’
A shilling. Enough for some cow heel and tripe and a bit of black pudding for tomorrow’s dinner. She always thought in terms of food these days. Life revolved around thoughts of food.
‘I . . . I thought he needed a jar the night, Mam.’
Rose looked at her daughter. Naomi stumped up her wage good as gold each week and the last little while had flatly refused to keep back so much as a penny or two for herself. Her arms were sticking out of her coat which was far too small for her and her boots needed mending before the winter. Her voice soft, Rose said, ‘You’re right, lass, he did.’ She pulled Naomi into her, holding her tightly for a moment before she pushed her away, saying, ‘Put the kettle on, hinny, and we’ll have a brew.’
Chapter 11
By the end of the week Hannah felt she knew what it was like to cook for an army. After moving her things into one of the lower bedrooms on the day she had seen Farmer Shawe, she had been grudgingly given the lowdown on where everything was and how things were done by a disgruntled Enid. The next morning Hannah had risen before it was light to see to the two men’s breakfast and begin baking for the workers’ lunch, which had taken the whole of the next six hours. Jake had come down first, standing in the kitchen doorway and smiling as he said, ‘You must have been up at the crack of sparrows.’
She had been taking a batch of fruit buns out of the oven and had been too busy to feel nervous of him. ‘There’s lots to be done,’ she’d said by way of answer, adding, ‘Where do you and Farmer Shawe normally eat your meals? In the dining room? The porridge is ready and I’ll do the eggs and bacon once you’re eating that.’
‘Aye, the dining room’ll be fine,’ said Jake, glancing at the kitchen table which was laden with flour and dried fruit and numerous tins and dishes. ‘I’ve asked Clara to lend a hand in here each morning, by the way. She’ll put you right on how much is needed and so on.’
‘Thank you.’ She flashed him a quick smile.
In a short while when Clara appeared it became clear to Hannah that Enid had been sparing in her instructions. But for Clara’s help, the amount of food would have been meagre, to say the least. As it was, the twelve large plates of pastry made with pig’s fat and filled with chunks of ham and egg, the bread and cheese, baked jam rolls, fruit buns and several tins of bread and butter pudding sticky with sugar and dried fruit went down a treat if the empty plates and dishes were anything to go by.
It wasn’t until the end of that first day that it occurred to Hannah that perhaps Jake had suspected Enid might attempt to make her look foolish and inexperienced which was why he’d sent Clara to her aid. She climbed into bed so tired she couldn’t keep her eyes open, and she considered the matter for all of thirty seconds before she fell asleep.
The rest of the week passed in a frantic whirl, culminating with the preparation of food for the harvest supper on the Saturday evening. Clara had told her the supper was an important event in the farm calendar. One of the big brick and tiled barns was swept out, the cobwebs brushed down from the rafters and a row of trestle tables set down the middle of the building after the floor had been covered with rush matting.
Plenty of beer, cider and blackberry wine was brought in, along with lemonade and ginger pop for the youngsters. Several huge joints of roast beef and pork provided the main part of the supper. Each one had filled its oven and tested Hannah’s strength when she lifted them in and out. The whole week had tested her strength, along with her stamina and ingenuity. She didn’t know what she would have done without Clara’s advice and help each morning.
But she had got through without any howling mistakes. She glanced across the barn from where she was pouring lemonade for some of the bairns, her eyes sweeping over the assembled company. Everyone who lived at the farm was present, from Florence and Herbert Lyndon’s little babbie to old Isaac Mallard, along with the farm workers and their wives and families who lived in the next village. It was like one massive family and even the young children spoke of the farm as ‘theirs’. She had been surprised to learn that from the age of seven or eight the lads were doing jobs like scattering manure in the ridges of soil after ploughing, feeding the animals and cleaning out the pigsties, hen crees and stables, while the little lassies were introduced to milking, collecting the eggs from the hens and ducks, and other numerous jobs once they were home from school.There didn’t seem to be much time for playing, but all the bairns appeared perfectly content with their lot. They were certainly plumper than the town children, their rosy cheeks and bright eyes testament to their good health.
When the meal was over, Farmer Shawe made a little speech thanking everyone for all the work that had been done, and immediately after that Daniel and John Osborne struck up a tune on their fiddles to start the singing and dancing. It was at this point Hannah began to feel uncomfortable. Everyone seemed to know how to dance, even the youngsters found a partner and formed a line, moving along it in turn as the dance progressed. Not that everyone was dancing. The farmer and Jake were sitting talking to Isaac and smoking their pipes, and Florence was dangling her baby on her knee, a smile on her face as she watched her husband dance with his smallest niece, a little tot of five.
Hannah began to clear the remnants of the food, glad to have something to do, but after a few minutes Daniel tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Leave that.’ He was smiling. ‘You’ve done enough work this week keeping us all fed and watered. Come and dance.’
‘I can’t.’ She glanced across to where his brother was still playing. ‘I really can’t.’
‘Course you can. I’ll help you clear later.’
‘I don’t mean that. It’s just that I’ve never . . . I don’t know the steps.’
‘You’ve never been to a barn dance afore?’
Hannah shook her head. She had never been to any sort of dance before but she wasn’t about to tell him that, she felt silly enough as it was.
‘Well, there’s got to be a first time for everything and if I say so myself, I’m a canny teacher.’ He grinned at her, took the plates out of her hands and put them down on the table before pulling her towards the dancers.
Aware she would make a spectacle of herself if she tried to disentangle her hands, but worried she would make even more of a spectacle of herself if she attempted to join the long line of men, women and children, Hannah said urgently, ‘I’d prefer to watch for a while if that’s all right.’
‘Nonsense.You’ve got to participate to get the hang of it. Trust me. And no one is going to be looking at whether you get it right or not anyway, everyone’s too busy enjoying themselves. Folk won’t laugh at you.’
Hannah wasn’t too sure about that, but once she had joined the line she found it wasn’t as hard as she expected. Daniel’s brother was calling out instructions to the dancers as he played his fiddle, and owing to the fact that more than a few of the adults were a little tiddly, even old hands were getting it wrong, which caused much hilarity. Slowly she began to relax and enjoy herself.
It was over two hours later in a break from the dancing that Daniel said,‘Come and sit a while, Hannah. Tell me about your life before you came to the farm. What made you leave the town?’
She had known someone would ask eventually and she had her answer ready. Shrugging nonchalantly, she kept her voice light when she said, ‘My mother and I lived with my uncle and aunt above his shop which is where I worked too. It was too . . . constricting, I suppose. And I don’t really like town life much, so when I had a disagreement with my mother I decided it was time to spread my wings a bit. Mr Fletcher said he and Farmer Shawe needed a live-in housekeeper and so it seemed the perfect answer.’
‘I think so.’
Something in his voice made her continue, ‘Mr Fletcher’s sister, Naomi, is my friend and I’ve always lived a few doors away from the family. Her brother and I were walking out before I came here.’
He nodded slowly. ‘Are you still walking out?’
She stared at him, her flushed cheeks not altogether due to the dancing. ‘I - I’m not sure.’ That sounded so silly she said quickly, ‘It all happened in a rush, my coming here, and I’m not sure how Adam will see things, me being so far away.’
‘Monkwearmouth isn’t so far away. I’d walk twice as far if I—’ He stopped abruptly, rubbing his chin before he said, ‘They’re starting the dancing again, come on.’
‘No.’ Her voice was firm. ‘I need to clear away and see to things in the farmhouse.’
‘I’ll help you.’
‘No.’ She softened her refusal by adding, ‘But thanks anyway. Look, your brother needs a break, doesn’t he? So he can dance? I think it’s time you took your turn.’
‘Aye, maybe.’ He seemed subdued.
‘But thank you for teaching me the steps. I’ve enjoyed it.’
‘Have you?’
His face brightened but when he opened his mouth to say more, Hannah rose quickly to her feet, saying, ‘I’d best get on now.’
In the farmhouse kitchen she placed the dishes on the table and stood for a moment, gazing around her. She was going to make changes here, clean things up and get everything shiny like it had been in the days when Farmer Shawe’s wife was alive.There hadn’t been time to do anything but cook this week but now the harvest was gathered in and the feast was over, she’d have a chance to do a bit more. Everything was dusty and dirty, the covers on the sofa and chairs in the sitting room needed washing and all the curtains in the house. ‘But don’t worry, there’ll still be room for you two,’ she said to Buttons and Polly who were curled up in one of the armchairs looking at her with green eyes.
She brought her gaze away from the cats as Jake and Seamus walked into the kitchen with more dirty dishes. It was Seamus who said, ‘Don’t do these now, lass. There’ll be time in the morning for getting straight. An’ you’ve done all right this week, all in all.’
She knew him well enough by now to know this was high praise indeed, and her voice reflected this when she said, ‘Thank you, Farmer Shawe,’ her eyes shining.
‘Aye, well, I’m off abed, I’m a mite tired the night.’ Seamus clapped Jake on the back. ‘You coming up, lad?’
‘In a while. I want to make sure Isaac gets home first.’
‘Aye, he was packing it away the night. Mortalious by now and the drink always makes him crabby.’
The two men went their different ways and when she was alone again Hannah carried everything through to the deep stone sink in the scullery where she put the dirty dishes to soak for morning. When that was done, she tidied the kitchen and prepared the porridge for morning, leaving the oats in a big pan soaking up the creamy milk. She preferred the way porridge was done here, she thought. Her uncle, having been born into a mining family, had his porridge made with water and stiff with salt, and until she had come to the farm she had assumed everyone had it that way. Few mining families had money for several pints of milk for their breakfast.
Her thoughts brought Adam to mind.Would he come to the farm with Naomi tomorrow afternoon? Her heart began to thud. Did he still look on her as his lass? Or had their silly quarrel spoilt everything? The only thing wrong with the farm was that she was so far away from Adam and couldn’t even catch a glimpse of him passing by, as she had done when working in her uncle’s shop. But if he didn’t want anything more to do with her, perhaps that was the best thing.
Other books
Warrant (Righteous Outlaws #1) by Savannah Rylan
How Dear Is Life by Henry Williamson
In Your Dreams by Gina Ardito
Star Wars: Scoundrels by Timothy Zahn
Beyond Life by Deb McEwan
Killer Christmas Tips by Josie Brown
Manchester House by Kirch, Donald Allen
Maxwell's Inspection by M.J. Trow
Party Girl: A Novel by Anna David
