The Fleethaven Trilogy (3 page)

He came and leant casually against the other door frame close to Esther, his arms folded across his chest.

Esther stood in the doorway between them. Defensively now, she said, ‘Aye, an’ I can plough a straight furrow, an’ all.’

Matthew threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing around the yard. There was a sarcastic smirk on Beth Hanley’s face as she said, ‘Get away, you couldn’t handle them great horses, so don’t . . .’

‘Got time to stand all day gossiping, have you?’ Sam Brumby’s voice made them all jump. Esther turned back into the cowshed and in her haste, turning from the bright morning light back into the darkness of the shed, she tripped over the pail and fell sprawling into the dirt. The milk spread across the cobbles, running rivulets of white amongst the cow muck.

‘Get back to your work, you idle creature!’ Sam roared at Matthew and punctuated his words with a blow to the side of the lad’s head. ‘And forget ya wenching!’

Sam took no notice of Beth Hanley, who nevertheless scuttled out of the yard and up the lane towards the Point as if a nest of hornets were in pursuit.

Esther cursed herself roundly for her own stupidity. The appearance of first Matthew and then Beth had unnerved even Esther’s determination to prove herself useful to Sam Brumby.

And spilling a full pail of his precious milk would do her no good at all.

B
Y
the time she had dealt with the one remaining bucket of milk and had come out into the yard again, Sam Brumby and Matthew had disappeared. She sighed, unsure what to do. She badly needed to prove herself useful to Sam. She had nowhere else to go. She would not go back. Not ever! But now she had probably ruined her chances of staying here. She knew just how precious every drop of milk was to a small farmer who had only three cows; and one of those was not being milked just now because it was due to calve at any time.

Esther was standing uncertainly in the middle of the yard when she heard a scuffling from one of the sties and went to investigate. Esther liked pigs. She loved their pink, hairy coats, their snuffling and grunting, and their noisy troughing made her want to giggle. As she looked in over the first door, a half-grown young gilt squealed and rushed excitedly towards her. She expected Esther to be the bringer of food.

Esther laughed. ‘You look hungry. I’ll go and see what I can find.’

She turned away from the sty and looked back towards the house. There were two buckets of pig swill standing outside the back door. She fetched them and the young pig scurried around her ankles, knocking against her in its eagerness to get at the food Esther carried.

‘Let me get to the trough to tip it in, then,’ she laughed.

The next sty was empty, but in the end one she found a large Curly Coat sow pacing up and down. She was heavily in-pig and displayed no interest in the other bucket of swill Esther tipped into the trough. The animal was obviously agitated and frothing at the mouth. From time to time the sow picked up a mouthful of straw and carried it about the sty, each time finally dropping it in one particular corner.

Esther moved towards her carefully. ‘Now then, old girl,’ she soothed. This pig reminded her of one of her uncle’s, a restless animal that had turned vicious at the birth and had tried to eat its own young, succeeding in killing all but two of the litter before her uncle had found them. Esther looked around her for something in which she could put the newborn piglets to keep them safe from their mother. There was nothing in the sty, but in the barn she found a battered old tea-chest. She dragged it into the sty and placed it in one corner, pushing some of the straw into the bottom as bedding.

Esther stayed in the corner near the door watching the sow from a safe distance whilst she waited. She had no idea where Sam Brumby had gone. Perhaps she should try to tell him, but she was rather afraid that if she left this pig alone for very long, by the time she returned there could well be a half-chewed piglet or two.

The youngsters slipped out quite easily one by one. The sow tried to rouse herself each time, but her eyes were wild and her mouth frothing. Esther knew she was not trying to suckle her young. This animal was dangerous, just like her uncle’s sow. She would kill her litter, given half a chance.

Esther went to one of the other sheds. The door squeaked rustily as she opened it and the fusty smell of neglect met her nostrils. Tools and implements had been thrown in higgledy-piggledy to lie dusty and forgotten. She stood a moment to let her eyes become accustomed to the dim interior and then she spotted what she wanted and pulled it from the heap of implements, disturbing a cloud of dust. She carried the garden hoe back to the pigsty and each time a piglet was born, Esther crept forward, keeping well away from the suffering mother, and as gently as she could pulled the wriggling creature away until she could pick it up. She wiped it as clean as she could with straw, over its face to clear the mouth, and slipped it into the tea-chest in the opposite corner. Then she stood up again and moved quietly back near the door to wait for the next arrival.

A shadow appeared across the doorway. ‘
Now
what are you up to, wench?’ came Sam’s exasperated tone.

‘Yar pig’s farrowing, mester, and it looks to me as if she might try to eat her young ‘uns.’

Sam snorted. ‘That’s nothing new with that sow. Lost half the litter last time, Ah did.’

‘Well, not this time,’ Esther vowed, more to herself than to Sam.

‘What? What d’you say?’

‘I’ll stay with her, Mr Brumby.’

Sam sniffed again and turned away. ‘Well, Ah can’t stand here all day playing nursemaid to a pig. You do what you like.’

Esther smiled to herself at his oblique reference once more to her sex, but at least this time he had not told her to go.

Esther did not go into the house at midday. Her stomach was rumbling with hunger, but she dare not leave the sow for a moment.

‘Ah’ve brought you a mug o’ tea.’ She turned to see Matthew grinning at her over the half-door of the sty. He jerked his head back towards the house. ‘Mester said you was playing midwife to Curly.’

‘Ooh, ta,’ Esther said appreciatively, taking the tea. Matthew leant his forearms on the lower half of the door and rested his chin on his arms, watching the sow. ‘Awk’ard old devil, she is. You want to be careful – she’ll ’ave yar leg off soon as look at ya.’

Esther grinned and held up the hoe. ‘That’s why I’m armed – and why I’m standing near the door. But I reckon she’s a mite busy to be chasing me just now.’ They watched together as another piglet thrust its way into the world.

‘Here – hold this a minute, will ya?’ She moved forward and plucked the tiny animal away, wiped it and popped it into the tea-chest. Then she returned to her place by the door and took the mug back from Matthew, sipping the hot, sweet tea gratefully.

‘Well, I’d best be getting back to me hedging and ditching, else I’ll have the mester after me again.’

‘Thanks for the tea,’ Esther said.

‘Ya’re welcome.’ Giving her a saucy wink, Matthew went off whistling.

As the sixth piglet was born – and she could see that the sow was not done even then – Esther heard a familiar shrill whistle and moments later the wheels of the local carriers cart rattled into the yard.

‘Is she here, then?’ Will Benson was demanding to know of Sam.

‘Who?’ Then, understanding, Sam added accusingly, ‘Oh, so it’s
you
Ah’ve to thank for landing me with a chit of a girl, is it? Ah can’t get rid of the cheeky little baggage!’

Esther heard the carrier’s laugh. ‘That’s our Esther right enough. She’s a rare lass. You’ve met your match there, Sam Brumby. She’ll take no notice of your moods and your tempers.’

‘What’s she to do wi’ you then, Will Benson? And what right have you to inflict such as her on me? Ah didn’t ask you to bring her. She ain’t staying, Ah can tell you that!’ It was a long speech for the taciturn Sam, but Will only laughed again.

‘
I
didn’t bring her, but I admit I told her about you needing a young ’un about the place. I were going to offer to bring her over at least to see you, but when I called at her aunt’s – ’ he gave a snort of contempt. ‘Lord strike me, how I detest that woman – Esther had already left. Set off to walk through the night, her aunt said, so as to arrive by first light.’

‘’Ow far she come, then?’

‘Oh, must be thirteen odd mile, I reckon.’

Peeping out of the door, but minding to keep well hidden from the two men, Esther saw the farmer staring up at the carrier and then – a rare thing – Sam Brumby smiled. It twitched the corner of his mouth, unwilling at first, hesitating as if not knowing quite how to form itself after years of neglect, then spreading across his mouth, wrinkling his eyes. From deep within came a chuckle. ‘The young . . .’ he murmured more to himself than to Will. ‘And Ah accused her of being weak because she looked tired this morning. Well, Ah never did!’

The carrier’s mouth dropped open. Sam Brumby was actually laughing! It would be a talking point on the carrier’s rounds for weeks to come.

Esther saw Sam shake his head wonderingly. He took off the cap he always wore and scratched his balding pate, then pulled his cap on again. ‘Well, Ah never!’ he muttered again. Esther knew she had, for the moment, earned Sam’s grudging respect. And that, she guessed, was not an easy thing to do.

‘Ah’ll tell you summat else, Will. She got the better of me gander last night. Now, I ain’t ever seen old Wellington beat afore – not by anyone.’

‘Didn’t I tell you, Sam, didn’t I tell you she’s a rare lass?’ the carrier said delightedly.

Will Benson was a dapper little man, dressed more smartly than the farmer. He wore trousers and a striped jacket and matching waistcoat, and the toes of his sturdy boots shone. He sported a ginger moustache which drooped at the corners hiding to some extent the shape of his mouth. Some days he wore a cap and on hot summer days a kind of boater-shaped hat. Esther knew him well for he lived in the same village where she lived – or rather had lived, she reminded herself. She smiled as she saw Will take off his cap. He had a good head of hair for a man of his age, she thought, seeing it smooth and glinting ginger in the sunlight. She liked Will. He had always treated her kindly and even on occasions boldly outfaced her aunt on her behalf. There weren’t many who dared to do that, Esther thought ruefully, yet Will Benson always seemed to get away with it.

He was speaking again now. ‘She’s a good lass, Sam, I can tell you. Treated rough, she’s been, by that shrew of an aunt of hers. Mind you, she’s raised Esther alongside her own bairns, you can’t deny, but only out of a sense of – of
duty
. She never showed the poor lass any affection.’ He shook his head and added bitterly, ‘She could show it to her own, though. She made the difference between them very obvious, I can tell you.’

Sam said nothing whilst the carrier chattered on. ‘She’s a hard worker,’ and he added a little ruefully, ‘she’s had to be, with Hannah for her aunt! The lass deserves better. She ought to be given a chance.’ Esther felt a blush of embarrassment creep up her face. She had never before heard herself so praised.

‘What happened to her folks, then?’

‘Her mother, Hannah’s younger sister, died giving birth to her,’ Will replied briefly.

‘What about her father?’

‘How should
I
know?’ As if to cut off any more of Sam’s questions, Will climbed down from his seat. ‘I can’t sit here chatting all day. I’ve me rounds to do. I’ll just have a word with the lass an’ I’ll be on me way. Where is she?’

From the pigsty, Esther saw Sam jerk his head in her direction. Even from this distance, Esther heard Sam’s dismissive sniff. ‘Wasting her time wi’ me sow.’

As the conversation between the two men ceased, Esther hung over the half-door of the pigsty. ‘’Morning, Mr Benson,’ she called.

‘Eh, there you are, Esther lass.’ He gave a wave in greeting and came towards her. ‘You settling in all right, then?’

‘Ah ain’t said she’s staying yet,’ Sam Brumby raised his voice before Esther could reply.

She grinned at Will. ‘He’ll find he’s a job on ’is hands to get rid of me though, won’t he, Mr Benson?’

The carrier laughed, whilst Sam Brumby growled, ‘There’s nowt Ah want today, Will Benson. You can be on your way.’ And with that parting shot, Sam hobbled off.

‘Well, lass,’ Will said softly. ‘Are you all right?’

Esther pulled a wry face. ‘I ain’t managed to make him see he needs me yet, but I’m working on it.’ She grinned suddenly. ‘I’m banking on Curly here to help.’

Will Benson poked his head into the sty and a doubtful expression flitted across his face. Esther leant closer and lowered her voice. ‘She usually turns nasty with her litter and kills ’em. I’m trying to save ’em.’

Will’s expression cleared and he smiled. ‘Oh, so that’s it – I wondered what Sam meant. Well, lass, it might work. Dun’t let that grumpy old beggar get the better of you. Good luck and tek care of yasen. I’ll be calling again on Thursday as usual. Tuesdays and Thursdays I come out to the Point.’

‘I’ll be here,’ Esther told him with far more confidence in her tone than she felt.

He turned away, raised his hand in farewell, and went back to his cart.

There were ten strong, healthy piglets by the time the sow had done. The eleventh, a poor, thin little reckling, did not live. Esther bit her lip. She knew the piglets ought to be suckling now. They needed nourishment, particularly that first fluid from the mother’s teats, and they needed the warmth of their mother’s body, but Esther wasn’t sure even yet that the sow’s proper maternal feelings had replaced the wild pain.

When the cleansings came away, Esther allowed the sow to eat these. Perhaps that would assuage her unnatural desire, Esther thought. She’d seen it done before and it had worked then. As she watched, the animal seemed to relax. The sow’s eyes seemed calmer and she struggled to her feet and went to the trough. Esther smiled. The signs were good.

When the mother returned to the corner and lay down again near the tea-chest, Esther picked one piglet out and placed it to the sow’s teats. With inborn sense, the tiny creature nuzzled at the teat to make the fluid come and then began to suck greedily. The sow’s eyes closed in contentment and she lay still and quiet whilst Esther placed all the piglets one by one to feed. They’d be all right now. Once the mother had suckled her young, it was unlikely she’d turn on them.