For a Father's Pride (33 page)

‘Right, I’m going. You know where I am, if you need me.’ Daisy pulled on her hat briskly and left the warm kitchen, without even saying goodbye to Tobias.
Family
, she
thought,
you’re better off without them!

Daisy sat quietly, reading her letter by the flickering candlelight. She smiled as she read the first line:
Dear Daisy petal.
She hadn’t been called that since
Leeds. She missed Jim, for he made her smile and feel sixteen again. Then she read the next line:

Daisy smiled, closed her eyes and thought of Jim. She missed him, too. He’d broken her heart when he’d become engaged to Susie, but now Susie had gone. She’d
write back, just to cheer Jim up and see how things were. She was sure Sam would understand.

Tuesday was market day at Hawes and the street was packed with traders and farmers trying to sell their wares and animals. Daisy walked down the street, saying hello to the
people she had come to know and trust. The gossip about her arrival had now been replaced by something else juicier, and the locals were beginning to accept her as Sam Allen’s fiancée
and as the lass who made jams for Luke. She waved as she passed the window of Luke Allen’s busy shop. She could see him slicing some bacon, and Sam serving a customer. If she had time
she’d call on them, once she had been to the solicitor’s.

Daisy took a seat in the reception area and waited for the solicitor’s office door to open. She felt uneasy; she still wasn’t sure why she was here, and she’d not spoken to her
sister since Kitty went into a huff over Daisy’s advice about Joshua Oversby. The reception walls were painted in a sage green, with dark varnished doors and skirting. Along with the three
chairs for waiting guests, there was a large walnut wall-clock marking time, which made Daisy feel more nervous with every minute. Why was she here? It didn’t make sense.

The office door opened suddenly. ‘Ah! Daisy, glad you’re here. Please, do come through.’ Henry Winterskill shook her hand and then prompted her into his office. ‘Please
take a seat. Are you warm enough? I’m afraid this old building is rather draughty, and there’s a sneaky northerly wind today, blowing straight through these windows.’ Winterskill
smiled and then lowered his head to look at the papers in front of him.

‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Daisy felt even more nervous. She was sure Mr Winterskill was going to say something she wouldn’t be happy about – she could just sense
it.

‘Now, the sudden death of Mr Clifford Middleton has put us both in an awkward position, and I am going to try and handle it as sensitively as I can. If I upset you, and you want me to
stop, please let me know.’ Henry looked up from his papers and smiled at Daisy. ‘Some time ago my father, whom I inherited the firm from, was requested to go and take a statement from,
and make a will for, Clifford Middleton’s father, Tobias. Also at this meeting was your father, Tom.’ Henry leaned across the desk and stopped for a moment, watching Daisy’s face.
‘At that meeting Tobias, in his own way, told my father that Clifford Middleton had raped you and left you with child. I’m sorry to have to ask you, but is that correct?’

Daisy bowed her head and nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

‘I’m sorry, but I have to continue.’ Henry paused for a moment.

Daisy blew her nose and raised her head. ‘I didn’t realize what rape was then. But yes, he did.’

‘Your father went on to say that you subsequently had the child and were told it was born dead.’

Daisy nodded. ‘He’s buried under the apple tree at Mill Race.’ The tears poured forth. She could feel the years of grief, guilt and hurt flowing out of her.

‘I’m sorry, Daisy, but what I’m about to say is going to be hard for you.’ Henry paused again. ‘Your father lied to you, because he thought it was for your own
good. The child lived; your mother bathed him in warm water when she went downstairs, and what you thought to be a stillborn baby lived. However, your father couldn’t abide the sight of the
child, so he took him to Clifford at Grouse Hall, where he’s been living ever since. The child called Tobias is your son, Daisy; he’s your baby that you thought dead.’

Henry leaned back in his chair and looked at the young woman. He tried to imagine what she must be thinking.

‘No, he can’t be – he’s not mine. He didn’t live . . . he’s dead under the apple tree. It must be a lie.’ Daisy pictured the lad whom she had befriended
from the very first morning at Grouse Hall: the dark hair of his father; and those eyes, which she now knew looked like hers.

Her heart pounded. Tobias was a good lad, she knew he was; even though life had treated him poorly, he was still kind-hearted. And now she realized that Tobias was hers – her son. What was
she going to do with a son? Did she want him or not, and could she cope with a boy she had believed to be dead?

The solicitor ploughed on with his duties while Daisy gathered her thoughts.

‘This letter is signed by your father and by old Tobias Middleton, both swearing that the young lad is yours and was born out of wedlock because Clifford forced himself upon you. Now the
reason they did this is because your father regretted treating you as he did. And although he tried to find you, he couldn’t. He also realized that the child was being brought up by Clifford
as little better than a dog. So he went to see Clifford’s father and, although Tobias had suffered a stroke, he still had his wits about him. He protected your son’s life by making him
the heir to Grouse Hall, such that if Clifford hurt a hair on Tobias’s head, he would have lost everything. As it is, Tobias hasn’t had the best of childhoods, but at least he’s
alive. So, Daisy, I don’t know if it’s good news or not today, but you have a son you thought was dead, who is the heir to Grouse Hall.’

‘What about my sister? Does she know?’ Daisy was still putting everything together.

‘She doesn’t know anything, and I’m afraid the poor woman is left with nothing, apart from a lot of IOUs to Clifford’s gambling friends. I have, however, drafted her a
letter, because she will need to know where she stands. Please take a look at it and let me know what you think.’ Henry passed the letter over.

Daisy had to read it at least twice. She handed it back to Henry.

‘Is it to your satisfaction?’

She nodded.

‘Then I’ll have my boy deliver it.’ Henry folded it and placed it in an envelope.

‘No, I’ll deliver it to her. She needs to know there was nothing between Clifford and me, and that I was young and stupid.’ Daisy breathed in deeply and sighed, for her life
had just been turned upside down.

‘As you wish.’ Henry smiled and passed her the letter.

‘And Tobias?’ Daisy’s eyes filled with tears.

‘Just take him home and love him. He’s a lucky lad to have a caring mother, and a farm waiting for him when he grows up. It could be a good farm, could Grouse Hall, if it was looked
after. Clifford’s father made a good living from it, and that is why he had such a privileged life.’ Henry Winterskill rose from his chair. ‘There’s paperwork to sign and
various things to tie up, but I think you’ve been told enough for today. It must have come as a shock. And, Daisy, you must never feel guilty about what happened with Clifford Middleton. He
was a cad, and I know you aren’t the first young woman he has forced himself onto.’

Daisy smiled. She knew her eyes were red and swollen and that she probably looked a mess, but years of guilt had been lifted. Now she was going to get her son.

‘You didn’t need to give me that letter. As soon as you walked out of the door saying you’d been asked to go to the solicitor, I put two and two together. All
these years I must have been bloody thick. My father talking to old Tobias, and then Tobias writing ‘house left to Bastard’ on his slate. That wasn’t Clifford – it was your
bastard son he was leaving it to.’

‘I didn’t know. I didn’t know my son had lived, Kitty – they told me he was dead.’ Daisy stood in the kitchen of Grouse Hall watching her sister pace back and forth
as she read the letter.

‘Clifford was always eyeing you up and, like a stupid puppy, you used to make eyes at him. I used to look at you and wish you dead. It’s a pity I didn’t get my wish.’

‘Kitty, don’t say that. I’m your sister. It wasn’t my fault he raped me.’

‘And then, when he died, you took pity on me and gave me some of our father’s money. But how do I know you didn’t keep half yourself?’ Kitty looked with venom at her
sister. In that moment she hated Daisy; and the way her father had always favoured her. Daisy was the clever one, the one who could bake and clean, the practical one; while she, Kitty, had been the
pretty one that everyone admired, until life with Clifford put paid to all that. But Daisy was her sister and, no matter how much she thought she hated her, Kitty knew she always would be.

‘I gave you it all. How much more do you think Father had? I don’t know how he managed to save that amount. Listen to me, Kitty. Nothing’s changed – you can still live
here. Tobias is only young and doesn’t need the farm yet.’ Daisy was hurt by her sister’s outburst. She knew the news was hard to bear, but she’d hoped that Kitty would
understand.

‘Shut your miserable, simpering mouth and take your bastard child with you out of my house. I never want to see either of you again.’ Kitty grabbed Tobias by the scruff of his neck
from where he was sitting and dragged him to the kitchen door. ‘Go on, get out of my sight – neither of you is worth anything to me.’ Kitty watched as Daisy ran after her son,
making sure Tobias was all right.

‘There’s one thing you are forgetting, Kitty. If we are being brutally honest, then Grouse Hall belongs to Tobias. Which means it’s mine until he reaches twenty-one, and
you’d do well to remember that.’ Daisy put her arm around Tobias. He was her son and no one was going to hurt him any more.

‘There’s just a few words that Clifford would have said, and that’s “Ah, fuck off the lot of you.” And this time he’s right.’ Kitty slammed the kitchen
door, leaving Daisy and Tobias out in the cold night air.

‘Come on, Tobias, you are coming to live with me. Now stop your crying – all’s going to be fine. You’ll have your own room, you can go to school and be well fed; and,
most of all, you can call me “Mam” now.’ Daisy’s eyes filled with tears as she put her arm around the little body.

‘What about my dog? I need Jip. I can’t leave him there!’ Tobias cried.

‘We’ll get another one. Now, how big should it be, and what colour? And what should we call him? He will be all yours to love, every day.’ As they walked the two miles back to
Grisedale, Daisy knew there were going to be hard days ahead for her and her son.

‘Didn’t I tell you that you want nowt to do with that lass. I knew she was trouble, the minute she walked over that threshold. There’s no smoke without fire.
Everybody in Hawes were talking about her, saying she’d been sleeping with her brother-in-law at Grouse Hall. Joshua Oversby says he saw them in bed together.’ Mary Allen was lecturing
Sam over the breakfast table. ‘And now it turns out that the urchin-like lad was hers all along. Set your cap at someone else, lad, she’s not the one for you.’

Sam was heartbroken. He’d gone to Mill Race to see Daisy, for his usual Sunday stroll with her, only to be confronted by the wild-looking Tobias, whom she was now calling her son.
She’d sat Sam down and, with tears in her eyes, had told him what had happened, and said how sorry she was for misleading him, because of her shame. But Sam had doubted Daisy’s story,
as his mother’s warnings rang in his ears, and now he felt cold and distant towards her. She’d lied when having that first tea with them, so what more was she hiding?

‘Just leave it, Mother. I don’t know what to think. Daisy says she was raped, and that she didn’t know the lad had been born alive. My head is so full of folk telling me what
to do, and what they think’s good for me, that I don’t know what to think.’ Sam put his head in his hands. He loved Daisy with every inch of his heart, but why had she lied?
Surely she must have realized the lad was hers.

‘She’s no good. And your father can just stop ordering stuff from her, because I want nowt of hers in our shop.’ Mary Allen clattered the dirty breakfast dishes and glared at
her son.

Luke smiled as he served his early-morning customer and passed her the change from a shilling. The raised voices from mother and son could be heard in the shop.

‘Trouble brewing then?’ enquired the old woman, who was a frequent customer.

‘Aye, our lad’s young woman has apparently got a bairn, and the father is her sister’s dead husband.’ Luke put his head down. He’d heard nothing else from his wife
all night, and he was at his wits’ end.

‘Aye, it’s all over Hawes. Some say she went with him freely, and some say he had his way with her and that’s why she buggered off. Whatever she did, she’s got a bairn to
raise that’ll need a father. Not that she’s short of a bob or two. I hear her lad was left Grouse Hall by his grandfather. The father must have been in the wrong, if old Tobias left it
like that. I never could stand that Clifford – he was always a clever sod.’ The old woman looked at Luke. ‘Get yourself to Henry Winter skill’s. He’ll tell you right,
then you’ll know where you stand.’ She had every sympathy for Luke. Mary was known as a nag who always thought herself better than anyone else, and she’d be hating the gossip.

‘Aye, that’s a thought. I’ll make a point of seeing him – see what he says. He’ll give me a right tale. I’m grateful to you for listening, Mrs Moore. Here,
take two currant teacakes to toast for your tea, on the house!’ Luke shoved two teacakes into a paper bag and dropped them into Mrs Moore’s basket.

‘They’ll be grand. And just think on: she’s not the only lass that had a baby out of wedlock, and she’ll not be the last. I seem to remember your wedding was a bit
sharpish. And I remember your mother denying the baby was yours, but by God Sam’s the image of his father now. Right, I’ll be off; thanks again for the teacakes.’ Mrs Moore
trudged out of the shop. She had a good memory for her age, and perhaps it had come into use today.