Sons and Daughters by Margaret Dickinson

do. And, it seemed, she’d been right about the dislocated shoulder too.
    He was even more puzzled when she said quietly, ‘Not on this occasion – no.’

 
Twelve
     
    A week later, on the last day of May, Joe came to the farm office.
    Charlotte was seated behind the desk and looked up as he entered. ‘Good morning, Joe. Please sit down.’ She waved towards the chair in front of the desk. They talked for a while about the farm.
    ‘It’ll be haymaking before we know it,’ Charlotte said. ‘And then harvest.’
    ‘Aye, and talking of August time, there’s something else I’d like to ask you, Miss Charlotte. Mr Thornton drove over yesterday to ask my advice about buying a couple of horses for his sons.’ Joe smiled. ‘To replace the one you brought back from there and another for the middle boy – Benjamin, is it?’
    ‘That’s right. But everyone calls him Ben.’
    ‘He said you’d mentioned the horse fair at Horncastle in August. I was wondering if we could take Mr Thornton. I mean, you could look over the horses there and then . . .’ His voice petered out.
    Charlotte was thoughtful before she said, ‘Can we do it without him guessing?’
    ‘Would it really matter, miss, if he did find out?’
    She sighed. ‘My father . . .’ she murmured and needed to say no more.
    Joe’s mouth tightened. ‘It’s high time you got the credit, Miss Charlotte, for everything you do, if you’ll forgive me saying so.’
    Charlotte’s smile was pensive. ‘It’s kind of you to say so, Joe, but you know that’s not possible. There’s only you and the Morgans who know the truth.’ She sighed. ‘And that’s the way it’s got to stay.’
    ‘Miss Charlotte, it’s 1926 for heaven’s sake. You’re living the life of a daughter in the Victorian age.’ He bit back the words, ‘And dressing like one too.’
    ‘I can’t see a way out, Joe. Unless I pack my bags and leave. And where would I go? I’ve no money of my own. No relatives. No – ’ There was a catch in her voice as she realized just what an isolated, lonely life she led. ‘No friends.’ Then she added swiftly, ‘Apart from everyone around here, of course. And besides,’ she added with wry amusement, ‘who’d care for my father? Mary and Edward only stay here because of me. If I went, they’d go too. They’ve told me so.’
    ‘I know that,’ Joe said boldly. ‘And my Peg only comes to help out here because of you, an’ all. By heck, I’m opening me mouth and letting me tongue run away with itsen’. I don’t mean no disrespect, miss, but all of us don’t like to see you treated the way you are. And him hitting you last week at morning service, well, it riled us all.’ He leaned forward. ‘Don’t think it wasn’t noticed, ’cos it was. Does he often hit you, Miss Charlotte?’
    ‘Not – often. Not now, anyway. Only when I anger him. His punishment when I was younger was to lock me in my room for hours on end. If it hadn’t been for Mary and Edward . . .’
    Joe’s face was grim.
    ‘Please, Joe, not a word to anyone. I’ve said more than I should. Promise me.’
    Reluctantly, Joe nodded, hoping that his promise didn’t include keeping secrets from his Peggy, because he had no intention of doing that. Not any more. Now she, too, worked at Buckthorn Farm occasionally, she was seeing for herself how things were.
    ‘So,’ Charlotte went on, briskly bringing them back to the topic that had caused the shared confidences, ‘Mr Thornton and the Horncastle horse fair. I suggest you offer to go with him and just ask, casually, if he minds if I come along. He knows of my fondness for horses – ’ she grimaced comically, ‘so I don’t think he’ll be surprised to see me amongst them. And, somehow, I will communicate to you which animals I think might be suitable. It’s worth a try. I’d like to see Ben with a nice mount.’ Her mouth tightened. ‘But as for Philip, I’m not sure he deserves to be in charge of a horse. Still,