For The Sake of Her Family (27 page)

‘I’ll just get my steps – the vests are up there on the top shelf. Do you want a fairly big size? You can make them do for six months if you get them big enough. Same with the
liberty bodices. Little mites are better warm than cold; they need at least three layers on, even in this grand weather.’ She pulled out some rickety wooden steps and climbed slowly up.
Balancing three flat cardboard boxes under her chin, she made a wobbly descent with one hand on the steps. ‘These are our finest wool vests. Now, I’m only advising, but if I were you,
I’d take three of them.’

Alice took one out of the box and passed it to Nancy, who held it up and then squeezed it tight to her face, feeling the softness of the wool and playing with the tiny drawstring ribbon round
the neck. ‘Will, darling, come and look at these – aren’t they adorable?’ Nancy’s eyes filled with tears as it suddenly dawned on her that she was about to be a
mother.

‘I’m just watching these crowds, Nance. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.’ Will walked reluctantly from the shop doorway, glancing over his shoulder, unable to
take his eyes off the crowds gathering around the newsvendor.

‘What do you think? Aren’t they sweet?’ Nancy held a baby vest up for Will to inspect.

‘Aye, aye, you get whatever you want, lass, and I’ll settle the bill when you’re done. While we’re here, might as well treat yourself an’ all. And knowing our lass,
I’m sure she’ll have her eye on something too. Just pick out whatever you want and give me a shout when you’re done – I’m going to nip outside, see what’s going
on. It’s like Christmas out there.’

Alice winked at Nancy as Will walked out of the shop. Time for them both to get what they wanted.

‘We’ll have half a dozen of the vests and the same of the liberty bodices . . .’ Alice took charge of the orders as Nancy admired the ribbons and small buttons that fastened
the tiny garments. ‘Two dozen nappies ought to do it, and can we see those nighties that you were suggesting? After that, we’d both like to look at some material. Do you do dressmaking
as well?’ The woman nodded. ‘Oh, good, that makes it easier all round. Can you take our measurements before my brother comes back – it’s a case of what the eye doesn’t
see, the heart doesn’t grieve, if you know what I mean.’

‘Anything you want, we can do it,’ said the starry-eyed shopkeeper, overjoyed that she’d had second thoughts about opening up that morning. Because the way these two were
spending, there would be no need to open for the next month. ‘Would you like your order parcelled and sent to you? It’d save you both any awkward questions. Now, what about a pair of
these pink gloves? They would go lovely with that calico you had your eye on . . .’

Soon the shop counter was covered with goods as Nancy and Alice took Will at his word and picked out whatever they wanted. It was like turning two children loose in a sweetshop.

‘By ’eck, I didn’t realize a baby could cost so much! Does it really need all that? We’ll be living on bread and dripping with the money I’ve spent today.’
Will shook his head as he put the receipt into his pocket.

‘You want your son to be dressed right, don’t you?’ Alice replied, giggling at her sister-in-law. Nancy was smiling, enjoying a good day out shopping.

‘And how do you know that it’s going to be a lad? Mind, I hope it is a lad, ’cos God help us if it turns out to be a lass that takes after her aunty Alice.’ Will grinned
at Alice as they walked through the crowds. ‘I bought a paper off that lad. I thought we could drop it off at the manor, show it to Gerald. Looks as though he was right – all
hell’s going to break loose. But the folk I were talking to say it’ll be over by Christmas. Won’t take us long to teach Kaiser Bill a lesson and send him running home with his
tail between his legs. Nancy, are you up to calling off at your brother’s? You’re not too tired, are you?’

‘No, it’ll be good to see him. Then I can tell him about the sweet little baby clothes.’ Nancy glowed as if it would make her day complete to see her darling brother.

‘Right, let’s get out of this madhouse and go see what Gerald makes of the news.’ Will untied the horses and, realizing that they’d been spooked by the hullabaloo, led
them away from the bustle of central Kendal. As his womenfolk chattered happily in the back of the trap, he posed a question, keeping his voice low so only the horses could hear: ‘War
declared – what the hell is that going to mean to all of us?’ Then he mounted the trap and drove them slowly home.

‘I tell you, Gerald, all hell’s broken out in Kendal. The papers are stirring everybody up – the place was full of crowds cheering and young lads lining up
for a chance to take on the Hun, and their mothers were crying, not wanting them to go. I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Will was pacing up and down the sitting room of the manor,
trying to describe the atmosphere in Kendal.

‘I read it this morning.’ Gerald sat stony-faced until his brother-in-law had finished, then he knelt beside his sister and took her hand in his. ‘Nancy, love, forgive me, I
should have told you earlier: I’ve signed up and am about to join our gallant lads. I’m so sorry, but I have to go – not only am I fighting for England but also for our friends in
Russia. I join my regiment next week. They’ve appointed me second lieutenant – I’ll be shipped out to France straight away.’ His eyes pleaded with Nancy as she started to
tremble and sob. ‘Try to understand, Nancy, I must go. You’ve got Will and Alice to look after you, and if, God forbid, anything happens to me, the manor and everything that’s
mine will be yours.’

‘Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. You are all I’ve got in this world.’

‘Nonsense, you’ve got Will, who loves you dearly, and faithful Alice, who is always by your side. And soon there’ll be the little one as well. I’ll come home to find you
with a bouncing baby on your knee and probably another one on the way. And I will come home, you know me – just like a bad penny.’ Gerald smiled at his sister, fighting back the tears
that were beginning to well up in his eyes.

Nancy cried inconsolably as he rose from his knees and walked over to Will. ‘I’m afraid the build will have to go on hold until I return, old man. You understand, don’t
you?’

‘Aye, I understand. If you feel it’s your duty, you must go. No doubt you’ll be the first of many. To be honest, I wish I were coming with you – see a bit of other lands,
shoot a Hun or two. It’d only be like potting rabbits.’ Will slapped him on the back. ‘She’ll be all right, don’t worry.’ He nodded in the direction of Nancy.
‘Me and our lass will take care of her.’

‘Alice, will you wish me luck and look after my little sister and her new baby?’ Gerald turned to Alice, who had remained silent when he made his announcement.

‘I’ll wish you luck and I’ll look after Nancy, but I think you are wrong to go and leave us all. We need you here. Let someone else fight this war; it’s nothing to do
with us here in Dent.’ Alice’s blue eyes blazed with fear and hatred of the war that was going to take Gerald away from her.

‘My dear Alice, the world is a much smaller place than you think. I’m going to fight for all of us, to make our lives safer and to let people like you say what they think. I know
you’re angry with me – those blue eyes give you away – but I have to go.’

As Alice looked up at him, silhouetted against the evening sun shining through the sitting-room window, it seemed to her as if a cloud of darkness enveloped the room. The war had come to Dent
and nothing was going to be the same.

Alice sat on top of the limestone wall, resting from hoeing the small piece of earth she called her garden. She’d claimed it from a strip of land between the stream that
ran by the side of the cottage and the lane down to the main road. All spring she’d dug and weeded the long strip of rough land, and now with summer drawing to an end her labours had been
rewarded with a display of vibrant dahlias and chrysanthemums flowering in one part of the garden while a thriving vegetable plot occupied the remainder.

The weeds didn’t stand a chance with Alice venting her anger on them in the early morning sunshine. The lettuce, beetroot and cabbage patches had never been weeded so fast; while her brain
had been doing overtime, her body had mechanically gone on with its chores until there were no more weeds left. Still gripping the hoe, Alice stamped it on the ground, shaking her head in disgust
at herself for not saying goodbye the way she’d wanted to. She’d stood there on the platform, waving as Gerald boarded the train in his smart army uniform, when what she should have
done was taken him to one side and told him how she felt. But that class thing had got in the way as usual: she was a maid and he was her master, and no matter how much she wanted to show her
feelings, she was afraid of showing herself up if he refused her advances.

Alice stamped the hoe down once again, this time slicing an earwig in two. Alice watched its death throes, the life ebbing from its body. Normally she’d have been satisfied with flicking
it off the dahlia it was making a meal of, but today she needed to vent her wrath on something.

The previous morning they’d taken the winding hill road to the station. The fell was shrouded in fog that clung to the landscape like a damp cobweb, obscuring the view. Nancy had sobbed
inconsolably as she clung to Gerald in his khaki uniform, his cap and stick making him look every inch the officer and a force to be reckoned with. The steam train had come shunting out of Rise
Hill tunnel, puffing grey smoke as it made its way on the upward line to Settle and then on to Leeds. The claret-coloured carriages were packed with khaki-clad troops from the barracks at Carlisle
and with enthusiastic volunteers eager to go and teach the Hun a lesson.

As the train had drawn in, Will had shaken Gerald’s hand, promising to take care of Nancy and her newborn. Then he’d prised Nancy’s fingers from her brother’s uniform and
dragged her away, still frantically pleading with him not to go. It was then that Alice had stepped forward, wanting to put her arms around him and tell him of her feelings, but unable to say the
words. Even when his dark brown eyes had looked into hers and his soft voice had murmured, ‘Alice, take care,’ as he kissed her on the cheek, she’d remained silent. Not so much as
a ‘Take care. Keep your head down’ – not a word, let alone ‘I love you’. She had stood on the platform as he boarded the train, cheered on by the occupants, and
slammed the carriage door. She’d gone on standing there as the train pulled out with him waving from the window. Then she had turned to Will and told him that she would walk home rather than
ride with them in the trap. The fog had lifted by this time, and from the first bend of the road on the hill she could just make out the last carriage going over the top viaduct at Dent Head before
disappearing into Blea Moor tunnel. There she had stood, tears in her eyes, whispering, ‘Take care, my love.’ Then she had picked a bunch of heather from the roadside in remembrance of
the day.

A cry of ‘Delivery for Will Bentham!’ brought Alice back to the present with a jolt. The post lad was coming up the road with a huge parcel balanced on the front of his bike.
‘Can you sign for it, miss?’ Alice looked at him with her blue eyes but said nothing. ‘Miss, can you sign for it?’ He puffed and caught his breath as she took his board and
pencil from his hand and signed, then returned it without saying a word. He untied the string that held it secure on his bike and passed it to her, hesitating for a minute or two, expecting a tip,
for it was a long, hard pedal up the dale from Dent to Stone House and he’d hoped to be given something for his trouble. But seeing that nothing was forthcoming, he mounted his bike and
carefully picked his way past the larger stones on the path to the main road, then freewheeled most of the way back to Dent. Some folk just did not appreciate his deliveries, and it was usually the
same lot, the snobs.

Alice wiped her hands on her pinny and carried the parcel into the kitchen, placing it on the table and cutting the string tie with a carving knife. It was the baby clothes and the dresses that
they had ordered on their visit to Kendal. She examined the tiny baby clothes, smiling at the smallness of the garments and feeling a twinge of guilt at having ended her own baby’s life so
cruelly. Surely the delicate, beautiful clothes would make her smile. She then unfolded the floral-patterned dress that Nancy had ordered; it was pleated and loose-fitting, which should make her
more comfortable in the last months of pregnancy. At the bottom of the pile were the pink dress and gloves. The dress was beautiful; the seamstress had done an excellent job. Alice held it to her
waist, twirling round the kitchen table with it held close to her. What a pity there wasn’t going to be a single man left in the dale, let alone Gerald, who would surely have admired her in
this. Bloody war, spoiling everything. The sooner it was over the better!

Will leaned on the oak table in the Moon and took a sip of his pint, the frothy white head giving him a creamy moustache, which he wiped off with his jacket sleeve. ‘So,
what do you reckon, Jack? Are you going to join up and see a bit of action?’

‘I’m not off anywhere. I’m farming with my father and that’s where I’m stopping. I’m not going to be cannon fodder for the toffs, bugger ’em. I’m
best off at home, same as you are.’

‘Aye, but haven’t you ever wondered what it’d feel like to shoot a fellow dead? I nearly did – remember t’other spring when I shot O’Hara? It was such a
feeling, I could hear my heart beating. Nothing like shooting rabbits: they just sit there and let you pull the trigger.’ Will downed his pint and got to his feet. ‘Another,
Jack?’

‘OK, one more, then I’m off home.’ He set his pint glass down on the table and watched Will head over to the bar. He remembered all too well the day that Will shot Sean
O’Hara. The man had been an evil bastard, and after the way he treated that horse he deserved everything he got, but Jack wouldn’t have wanted to be the one to pull the trigger.

Will returned with two frothing pints. ‘Here you go, lad. What’s all this talk of “One more, then I’m off home”? It’s not that late – sun’s not
even set yet.’