sympathy; his words had no hidden meaning, but to Eve’s ear they held reproach. In Grangely she had resolved to return with the offer of further help – food,perhaps, or extra clothing for the evicted families. She had called to Reverend Farrimond as he left her, but her words had been lost in the din. Had he turned, she might now have been back in there helping to ease the suffering of those whose fate could have been hers. But since coming home, their plight, desperate though it was, had been eclipsed by the simple rhythms of her own domestic life and she had barely spared a thought for those poor unfortunates. In a rush, she blurted all this out to Reverend Farrimond. He, however, would have none of it and held up a hand as if to stem the flow of words.
‘Nonsense, Eve, nonsense,’ he said. ‘It’s only Saturday for heaven’s sake! What could you possibly have achieved in that short time? No, it pains me to hear you berate yourself.’
‘But what should I do?’ said Eve. ‘I do wish to be of some ’elp.’
Reverend Farrimond did have a proposal to make, but he felt it had better wait until Arthur was home.
‘What you should do, young woman, is put the kettle on the stove,’ he said.
Arthur and Seth bowled into the warm kitchen on the crest of their triumph over Rockingham to find Eve and the Grangely minister seated at the table. Arthur was surprised, Seth disappointed. He wasn’t sure who this man was but by the looks of the dog collar, he wasn’t likely to want to talk about knur and spell, or hear him describe his first bitter shandy at the Hare and Hounds, a victory drink with the team, awarded to him with elaborate ceremony by Mr Medlicott for dedication above and beyond the call of duty. Seth had had to sit on an old bench outside the pub with only Jonas Buckle’s dog Barney for company, which took the gloss off it a bit, but he still feltproud as punch. Now he was going to have to hold it all in until the man left.
Eve saw the struggle in his features and understood instantly what Seth was feeling. She saw him now through the minister’s eyes; a comically miniature version of his father, ears stuck out like chapel hat pegs and a flat cap perched on his head. He’d been born with an old man’s face, and he still looked older than his years. She smiled at him.
‘This is Reverend Farrimond, Seth, say ’ow d’you do,’ she said.
‘’ow d’you do,’ said Seth, obediently but coolly. Arthur pulled off Seth’s cap, then his own, and shook the minister’s outstretched hand.
‘Reverend Farrimond buried Mam’s mam.’
Eliza’s voice came from under the kitchen table where she’d been sitting with Ellen for the past half hour. It was her favourite spot when grown-ups were talking. Some years ago she’d realised that if she sat still and stayed silent, adults assumed she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Eliza had learned all sorts of things using this reliable method.
‘And christened your mother and married her to your father,’ said the minister, lifting the cloth and stooping down to see the child. ‘I don’t only deal with the dead, miss.’
She stared at him, unsmiling; she was shocked to be directly addressed, and wished she hadn’t spoken. Eliza’s sixth sense for gossip told her that the main purpose of his visit hadn’t yet been discussed, and now she was likely to be sent out of the room.
‘Out you come, young ’un,’ said Arthur. ‘Call on Minnie next door, see if she’s laikin’.’
‘Minnie’s gone in for ’er tea,’ said Eliza, but it was useless, she knew. Eve bent down low enough to give her a hard look. Eliza immediately crawled out from under the table, followed, predictably enough, by Ellen. The two girls left the kitchen,Eliza stomping her feet, Ellen trailing amiably behind, but on the threshold of the back door Eliza turned and said, ‘Why’s ’e staying?’ and pointed an accusing finger at Seth.
‘’E’s ’ad no tea and
‘Nonsense, Eve, nonsense,’ he said. ‘It’s only Saturday for heaven’s sake! What could you possibly have achieved in that short time? No, it pains me to hear you berate yourself.’
‘But what should I do?’ said Eve. ‘I do wish to be of some ’elp.’
Reverend Farrimond did have a proposal to make, but he felt it had better wait until Arthur was home.
‘What you should do, young woman, is put the kettle on the stove,’ he said.
Arthur and Seth bowled into the warm kitchen on the crest of their triumph over Rockingham to find Eve and the Grangely minister seated at the table. Arthur was surprised, Seth disappointed. He wasn’t sure who this man was but by the looks of the dog collar, he wasn’t likely to want to talk about knur and spell, or hear him describe his first bitter shandy at the Hare and Hounds, a victory drink with the team, awarded to him with elaborate ceremony by Mr Medlicott for dedication above and beyond the call of duty. Seth had had to sit on an old bench outside the pub with only Jonas Buckle’s dog Barney for company, which took the gloss off it a bit, but he still feltproud as punch. Now he was going to have to hold it all in until the man left.
Eve saw the struggle in his features and understood instantly what Seth was feeling. She saw him now through the minister’s eyes; a comically miniature version of his father, ears stuck out like chapel hat pegs and a flat cap perched on his head. He’d been born with an old man’s face, and he still looked older than his years. She smiled at him.
‘This is Reverend Farrimond, Seth, say ’ow d’you do,’ she said.
‘’ow d’you do,’ said Seth, obediently but coolly. Arthur pulled off Seth’s cap, then his own, and shook the minister’s outstretched hand.
‘Reverend Farrimond buried Mam’s mam.’
Eliza’s voice came from under the kitchen table where she’d been sitting with Ellen for the past half hour. It was her favourite spot when grown-ups were talking. Some years ago she’d realised that if she sat still and stayed silent, adults assumed she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Eliza had learned all sorts of things using this reliable method.
‘And christened your mother and married her to your father,’ said the minister, lifting the cloth and stooping down to see the child. ‘I don’t only deal with the dead, miss.’
She stared at him, unsmiling; she was shocked to be directly addressed, and wished she hadn’t spoken. Eliza’s sixth sense for gossip told her that the main purpose of his visit hadn’t yet been discussed, and now she was likely to be sent out of the room.
‘Out you come, young ’un,’ said Arthur. ‘Call on Minnie next door, see if she’s laikin’.’
‘Minnie’s gone in for ’er tea,’ said Eliza, but it was useless, she knew. Eve bent down low enough to give her a hard look. Eliza immediately crawled out from under the table, followed, predictably enough, by Ellen. The two girls left the kitchen,Eliza stomping her feet, Ellen trailing amiably behind, but on the threshold of the back door Eliza turned and said, ‘Why’s ’e staying?’ and pointed an accusing finger at Seth.
‘’E’s ’ad no tea and
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