Never Look Back (38 page)

‘I’m sure she would,’ she said, imagining her mistress organizing sewing bees and cake sales. ‘You should put it to her, maybe if she knew there was something good to look forward to, she wouldn’t mind spending another year or two here.’

‘And what about you, Matty? Would you come with us?’

‘I couldn’t let you go on your own,’ she laughed, suddenly elated at the idea. ‘And I’d like to see all those wonders, we’ve been in America two years now and the nearest thing I’ve seen to an Indian is the carved wooden one outside the tobacco store. The only horse I’ve been on was the one in Coney Island.’

She made the last statement without thinking, and the moment the words were out she blushed.

Giles looked at her intently. ‘Did the man who let you down take you to Coney Island?’ he said in a soft voice.

For just a second she was going to say she went alone, but if she was going to stay on with the Milsons there was going to come a day when she might let it slip again. ‘Yes, sir, when you were in Boston.’

He didn’t look shocked, only curious. ‘What was his name, Matty? Tell me about him.’

She had always thought she couldn’t bring herself even to say Flynn’s name again, but all at once she was pouring it all out, how she met him, the Friday afternoons together, and her promise she would join him in Charleston. She was surprised to find how much relief she felt at telling someone.

Giles listened, only asking the odd question now and again.

‘It was a good job I didn’t go, as it turned out,’ she said with a tight little laugh. ‘I’d probably be living in some awful little shack and be labelled “white trash” too.’

Giles had taken in all she’d told him, and understood even more about the parts left unsaid. It saddened him to think she hadn’t been able to confide in him right from the beginning, and he was deeply touched that her commitment to him and his family was even greater than to the man she loved. And she
had
loved him, still loved him now, he could see that in her face.

‘I can think of dozens of reasons why marriage with Flynn might not have been all you hoped for,’ he said with deep
sympathy. ‘Irishmen are a volatile bunch in the main. If you think now that he only revealed a very small part of his true self, I suspect the part he didn’t show you wouldn’t have pleased you. But I am deeply sorry that you had your dreams dashed, Matty. First love is a very precious thing.’

‘I’m getting over it now,’ she said, blushing again because she was afraid she’d said too much. ‘As my father said when he left me with you at the parsonage, “Never look back.’ ”

‘Your father is a wise man,’ Giles said in approval. ‘But most of us find it very hard not to think wistfully on what is past, or berate ourselves for not acting differently. You have handled this with great dignity, Matty. In time that will be a comfort to you.’

She smiled, her blue eyes suddenly very wide and sparkling. ‘You are a comfort to me,’ she said. ‘If I ever get tempted to fall for another man, I shall make sure he’s as much like you as possible.’

It occurred to her later when she was in bed that such a remark could easily be misconstrued. But then she had meant it in the purest way, and she was sure Giles would know that too.

She wanted a man who was as good inside as he was outwardly, who cared about people, rich or poor, valued children and worked hard. An intelligent, well-balanced man who would never lie to her, who thought of his woman as an equal. But she wanted someone with a sense of fun too, who liked to laugh and dance. A man who would make love to her with passion and commitment. A brave man.

Giles was all these things, except of course she had no idea what he’d be like as a lover, or if he could dance.

She giggled, shocked to think she’d even dare think of something so physical in connection with her master. But she had a feeling he would excel in both, he moved gracefully, his eyes smouldered as if he was capable of strong passions. In truth she could find no real fault in him, unless of course it was his blind allegiance to God!

The Sunday before Christmas, the Reverend Kirkbright announced from the pulpit at the morning service that the Milsons would be leaving Trinity Church in the spring for Missouri. The decision to move on had come about suddenly because a minister was urgently needed in the little frontier town of Independence. The present one was old and sick, and the bishop
in St Louis who was a friend of the Reverend Kirkbright had asked him to select someone young and dynamic to take his place.

Giles was in his cassock and surplice, and had taken his seat by the choir stalls. Matilda was sitting with Lily and Tabitha in the front row of pews, behind them the church was packed to capacity, and Matilda’s heart swelled up with pride as the Reverend Kirkbright spoke of how much Giles Milson had given to the parish in his time with them.

‘There can be very few of you here today who haven’t had their lives touched by this extraordinary clergyman. He has visited the sick, comforted the bereaved, listened to your troubles and shared your triumphs. But Reverend Milson has left his biggest mark on his care for the poor. Thanks to his compassion and courage, innumerable orphans have been rescued from conditions which few of us here today can even imagine. These children are healthy now, well cared for in the Waifs’ and Strays’ Home in New Jersey, and many of them have been adopted by good people in other states.’

Remembering the covert way she and Giles had rescued these children, Matilda glanced at Lily to get her reaction at hearing it spoken of openly. But Lily wasn’t looking at Darius Kirkbright, only at her husband. Her grey eyes, in which it was usually so hard to see any depth of feeling, were shining, her small face alight with pride. There was no doubt in Matilda’s mind that Lily had long since come to terms with Giles’s ministry work, wherever that might lead him, and that in future she’d always be at his side.

‘Along with this work,’ the Reverend Kirkbright went on, ‘Reverend Milson has established soup kitchens and got countless children into schools. He told me soon after he arrived in America that he believed that education was the only real weapon in the fight against poverty, and of course he is right. Benevolence to the poor, the distribution of food, fuel and warm clothes eases the suffering, but the real cure
is
education. A man or woman who can read and write can get a better job and in turn better housing. Education banishes ignorance and opens doors in the mind to infinite new opportunities.’ The Reverend Kirkbright paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the packed pews beneath his pulpit.

‘We are all going to miss Reverend and Mrs Milson, and I’m sure you all join me in wishing them every happiness and success in their new home and church. But it would be a tragedy if after they have left we remembered them only for being kind-hearted, good people. Reverend Milson has left us a wonderful legacy. He has set the wheels in motion for a better, more caring society, and all of us here today must each vow to support and maintain what he so courageously began.

‘America is set to be the greatest country in the entire world, but a country, like a house, is only as strong as its foundations. We must all set aside self-interest and work to build these foundations with care for the poor and sick, good schools and housing. We must banish ignorance and intolerance, learn to love our neighbours, regardless of their race or religion. We are all Americans now, wherever we or our parents came from, and as such we must take pride in our new nationality and pull together to make it the greatest nation on earth.’

It was the first time Matilda had ever known the congregation clap in church. It begin with a slight tapping and swelled into a tumultuous roar. A lump came up in her throat and her eyes were damp. She felt in that moment that she might become an American after all.

Chapter Eleven

Early evening sun slanted through a side window, casting a coppery tinge on to Giles Milson’s dark curls as he stood at the table looking at the welcoming feast laid out for him and his family. A large, golden-crusted pie, dishes piled high with vegetables, warm, freshly baked bread and a pitcher of milk. After such a long and arduous journey to Independence, Missouri, mere bread and cheese would have been enough to delight him, but such generosity and kindness from his new parishioners seemed to confirm he had made the right decision to move his family here.

Looking at each of them he felt a surge of love and tenderness. Lily with an uncharacteristic sun-burnt face was wiping away happy tears. Tabitha in a decidedly rumpled and grubby pinafore, her dark plaits unravelling, was licking her lips at the sight of the food in front of her, and Matilda, eyes as blue as the summer skies outside, was smiling at the vase of dog daisies in the centre of the table.

‘A very special grace is called for tonight,’ he said, putting his hands together and closing his eyes. ‘Thank you, Lord, for bringing us safely through the long journey to our new home and church, and for the generosity of all those good people who offered us help and hospitality on the way. Our hearts are full of love and gratitude for everyone who welcomed us here today, prepared this house for us and this food on the table. I pray that the happiness we all feel today will stay with us for ever.’

Matilda said a fervent Amen to that. She might not put her trust in God as completely as the Milsons did, but even she was willing to admit that he did seem to have worked a few miracles for this family in the past few months.

They had left New York in April, and it was now July. The 1,200-mile journey had been covered by train, boats and horse and
cart. Every mile of it had been thrilling, for none of them had any real conception of how vast America was, or how beautiful.

There had been so many memorable sights – the orchards in full blossom in Pennsylvania, the vastness of Lake Erie, deep forests, wide, fast-flowing rivers and spectacular sunsets over mountain ranges. They had marvelled at the immense flat prairies and the dedication of the people who had sown the seemingly endless miles of wheat and corn.

It had been so good to breathe fresh clean air, to hear leaves rustling and birdsong, and see wild flowers, animals and how folk lived away from the noise and dirt of the cities. They passed through so many picturesque, sleepy little towns with neat little wooden houses and carefully tended gardens. Here and there they saw long tree-lined avenues leading to spectacular mansions, but the further west they went, humble log cabins became more common, and some homes were only made from sods of hard-packed earth. Yet poor as the owners undoubtedly were, they and their children looked healthier and happier than their city counterparts.

Thrilling as the sights on the journey had been, the real joy of it to Matilda was seeing Lily so happy. She had been serene even before they left New York, but once they left the city behind she had become a quite different person.

Suddenly she was chatting, laughing, asking eager questions, and Matilda saw Giles responding to her like a sweetheart. But then leaving New York had set them all free – no more social restraints, dull chores, noise and city dirt, and somehow the wide open spaces seemed to encourage them all to be more open and daring. Giles found great satisfaction in learning to handle the temperamental cart horse and set up camps for the night, Lily in learning to cook on an open fire. For the first time in her life Tabitha was freed from her many petticoats, she could run alongside the cart, swing from branches of trees, paddle in streams and enjoy the simple pleasures that country-bred children took for granted.

What an adventure it had been to sleep out in the open air! Scary sometimes when they heard wolves howling or predatory rustlings in the undergrowth, but exciting too. They lay huddled together round the fire, looking up in wonder at the star-filled
sky, and they’d talk about life back in England and in New York and wonder at the changes in all of them.

Matilda didn’t think she would ever forget Lily’s emotional tears when women, some of whom who could barely speak English, begged her and her family to share a simple meal with them, because a visiting minister meant a blessing on their house. Or the shock they all felt when they came face to face with their first Indians out on the plains in Indiana.

They had come over a hill in their horse and cart, and there they were, riding full pelt towards them. Not almost naked, dirty savages as Matilda at least had imagined Indians to be, but wearing plain buckskins, with long black hair as shiny as tar, riding their sleek horses as if they were one with the animal. Lily had turned pale and clutched Tabitha to her, even Giles confessed later he uttered up some silent prayers, but the Indians ignored them, and rode past without even a glance in their direction.

They learned a couple of days later that they were Cherokees, a tribe which had lived in Georgia until the white man snatched their fertile lands, rounded them up and forced them to walk all the way to the Indian territories west of Missouri. This group they saw were renegades, they’d escaped the round-up and taken the mountains of South Indiana as their new home. They were almost certainly on a hunting trip to take food back to the rest of their group.

But the trip wasn’t pleasant or interesting all the time. There was mile after mile of barren, desolate land, there had been heavy rain when they all got soaked to the skin, there were occasions when they ran out of food, and the last leg of the journey had many fraught moments, particularly when a wheel broke miles from anywhere, and Giles had to ride off on the horse to get help, leaving the women stranded on a mere track, with no idea how long it would be before he got back.

Yet it was those bad times which made them laugh later. Matilda had never imagined that Lily was capable of stripping off her boots and stockings, tucking her dress up and wading through mud to collect firewood, or that Giles knew how to fish, or snare a rabbit. Both Giles and Lily had marvelled at Matilda’s ingenuity in building fires and finding soft brushwood to make impromptu beds, and her knowledge about carts and horses.
But then she too was surprised that things she’d learnt as a child in Finders Court had stayed with her.