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Authors: Rita Bradshaw

Tags: #Sagas, #Historical, #Fiction

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BOOK: Above the Harvest Moon
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‘Go on with you, lass. I’m no saint, nor do I pretend to be. Besides, you’re young, it’s the most natural thing in the world to want to spread your wings a bit. It doesn’t mean you’re not thankful for what you’ve got.’
 
Hannah smiled at her aunt.Aunt Aggie always understood. For as long as she could remember she’d harboured the secret wish that it could have been her aunt who had borne her rather than her own mam although she would never voice it.
 
Agatha smiled back into the young face. If she had but known it her thoughts were on a par with her niece’s. If one of her many pregnancies had gone full term and she had been able to bear a child of her own, she would have liked it to be exactly like the young girl in front of her. It wasn’t so much that her niece showed promise of great beauty with her warm creamy skin, heavily lashed dark-brown eyes and dark-chestnut hair with its hint of red, it was Hannah herself who was captivating. Her warmth, her kindness, her brightness.
 
Agatha took a sip of her tea. How Hannah had come from the body of her sister-in-law she’d never understand, because if ever two personalities were at opposite ends of the spectrum, Hannah’s and her mother’s were. Did Miriam really think she was unaware of what was going on between her and Edward? More likely she didn’t care, truth be known. How she would love to confront them both but where would that leave her? Part of her felt Edward had been manipulated into the affair, that it wasn’t of his choosing, but that could be wishful thinking on her part. She just didn’t know any more. Her husband was most solicitous on her behalf, one could say almost overwhelmingly so, and since she had been confined to her bed the last eight years he had never once shown any irritation or annoyance that
that
side of their marriage was over. But then he wouldn’t, would he, if he was getting what he wanted elsewhere? And Edward had been a very physical man in the early days of their marriage, exhaustingly so.
 
‘. . . suits her to say that.’
 
‘I’m sorry, hinny?’ Agatha realised her niece had been talking and she hadn’t heard a word. ‘What did you say?’
 
‘I said Mam was going on again about me not having one of Naomi’s kittens, not that I’d asked for one anyway. She said it’s because of the shop downstairs but I don’t think it’s anything to do with that. She just doesn’t like animals, any animals. She says they’re all dirty and full of fleas and take too much looking after.’
 
Aye, she would. Miriam spent most of her days with her legs up on the sofa reading magazines she’d borrowed from the shop and drinking endless cups of tea, only to spring into action once Edward made an appearance. She knew, oh yes, she knew. She might be confined to this bed most of the time but that didn’t mean she was half sharp. Keeping her thoughts to herself, Agatha said, ‘Your mother has never had anything to do with cats or dogs, that’s the thing. What folk don’t understand they’re often nervous of.’
 
Her mam nervous about anything! Hannah could have laughed out loud. Instead she said quietly,‘Perhaps. But she needn’t have said Mrs Wood should have drowned them when they were born. They’re such bonny little things, Aunty. So helpless and small.’
 
‘She said that?’
 
Hannah nodded. They stared at each other for a moment, Agatha shaking her head slowly, and then they continued to drink their tea without further conversation.
 
Hannah was just leaving her aunt’s room with the tray a few minutes later when her uncle came in from his Sunday morning visit to the Oak Tree in North Bridge Street. He smiled as she passed him, his voice soft as he said, ‘You been looking after your aunt, lass? There’s a good girl.’
 
Before she could say anything, Miriam appeared in the doorway to the sitting room.‘There you are, Edward. Dinner will be a little while but I’ve poured you a glass of beer and put your slippers by the fire. Come and sit down.’ Her gaze switched to her daughter. ‘Turn the roast potatoes and check on the Yorkshire pudding while you’re in the kitchen.’
 
Edward stared at his sister-in-law. For a moment he seemed to be about to say something but then he walked across the hall and joined her in the sitting room where he sat down before the fire and picked up the newspaper. He hadn’t spoken and he did not do so now, settling back in his chair and beginning to read.
 
‘Here.’ Miriam knelt at his feet, his slippers in her hands. ‘Let me take your boots off and you put these on.’
 
He submitted to her ministrations with merely a grunt, the newspaper held in front of his face, and after she had fitted the slippers on his feet, Miriam stood up and looked at him for a moment. When he continued to read, she bit her lip and then returned quietly to the seat she’d vacated when she heard him come in.
 
Edward Casey was a large man in breadth as well as height. He had a rough, pockmarked complexion, thick grizzled hair and a bulbous red nose, the result of a penchant for several glasses of port of an evening and beer throughout the day. It was his wide, thick-lipped mouth that dominated his features and revealed the sensual nature of Hannah’s uncle.
 
The fact that his wife had been unable to give him a son or daughter did not worry Edward unduly. He had married Agatha because as the only child of a well-to-do shopkeeper, a shopkeeper who was reportedly in ill health, he’d thought he was on to a good thing. And so it had proved. His father-in-law had died within twelve months of their marriage and, Agatha’s mother having died some years before, his wife inherited the shop and flat and a nest egg into the bargain.
 
He had been grateful to his wife for providing him with a living which had taken him out of the pit. It was a living he considered comfortable and easy, and one in which he could freely indulge his love of food and drink. Moreover he liked Agatha and she had always been obliging in the bedroom. Until the last miscarriage, that was, after which she’d become confined to bed most of the time.
 
When Miriam had made it plain she was eager to provide what Agatha could not, he had gone into the affair willingly, for by then he had been desperate for the release only a woman could give and it had been either Miriam or visiting a brothel. He had wished many times since he had chosen the latter. Miriam had become like a leech and her body had started to hold less and less attraction for him. And with its demise, another desire had grown . . .
 
Chapter 5
 
‘Ask your mam, just ask her. She might say yes.’
 
‘She won’t.’
 
‘You don’t know for sure if you don’t ask. And it’s not like her an’ your uncle an’ aunt ever do much on New Year’s Eve apart from having Mrs Mullen and Mrs Chapman over. Go on, ask, Hannah. I’d love you to come round. We always have such a laugh on New Year’s Eve at home.’
 
Hannah stared at Naomi. She would like nothing more than to see the New Year in at her friend’s house, but her mother would never agree to it. As she heard her uncle coming through from the storeroom where he had been weighing sugar out of a sack into blue paper bags, Hannah pushed Naomi towards the shop door. ‘All right, I’ll ask but don’t expect me,’ she said under her breath. ‘You know what she’s like.’
 
The shop bell tinkled Naomi’s departure as her uncle appeared. ‘Who was that?’
 
‘Naomi. She called in on her way home from work.’ She didn’t say why. Her friend often stopped a few minutes for a chat in the evening.
 
Her uncle nodded, turning and placing the bags of sugar in the box he was carrying into their appropriate spot on the shelves behind the long wooden counter. With his back towards her, he said, ‘She’s quite a young woman now - you both are. Has she got a lad yet?’
 
Hannah swallowed. It was daft but she always felt funny when her uncle talked like this and he was doing it more and more often of late. Saying she was so grown up, that there must be lots of lads after her, things like that. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but . . . She couldn’t explain the ‘but’ to herself. Swallowing again, she said flatly, ‘Her mam said she can’t walk out with a lad until her sixteenth birthday.’
 
‘Very wise, very wise.’ He turned from what he was doing, a bag of sugar in his hand. ‘You don’t want to go messing about with lads, Hannah,’ he said softly.‘Take it from me, I know what I’m on about. Young lads won’t treat you right.’
 
The creeping sensation in her flesh was making itself felt again, not so much because of what he said but the way he said it and the look on his face. She stared dumbly, her heart beating so hard she felt it in her throat. ‘I . . . I don’t. I mean I haven’t got a lad. I don’t want one.’
 
‘They’ll tell you one thing and do another. That’s the way it is with youth. And you don’t want that, do you? You don’t want to find yourself in a pickle.’
 
‘No.’
 
‘I’m talking sense, lass.’ He was red in the face and perspiring although it wasn’t warm in the shop - it was bitingly cold outside with a high wind blowing that spoke of snow. ‘And you’re worth more than that, all right? So you mind what I say and keep yourself to yourself. Will you do that for me, lass?’
 
She nodded and then almost jumped out of her skin as the door behind her opened and her mother walked into the shop. She was carrying a bag containing her aunt’s medicines which she had fetched from the chemist.
 
‘What’s the matter?’ Miriam’s eyes flashed from her daughter to Edward.
 
‘The matter?’The thick trembly note had gone from her uncle’s voice. Now he sounded faintly belligerent. ‘Why should anything be the matter?’
 
‘I don’t know.’ Miriam didn’t look at Hannah again but kept her gaze on her brother-in-law. ‘So there’s nothing wrong?’
 
‘Not that I know of.’
 
Miriam slanted her eyes and inclined her head, a sharp movement. ‘Good.’
 
‘You got all Aggie’s stuff?’ Edward said heartily.
 
‘Aye, it’s all here.’ Miriam’s voice was expressionless.
 
‘I’ll be shutting bang on time, it being New Year’s Eve, so if you want to dish up for half eight we’ll be up then. And after dinner we’ll all have a nice little drink together, eh? See the New Year in in style. Now this young lady is nearly sixteen I reckon it’s high time we faced the fact she’s all grown up and treated her accordingly.’
 
There was something in her mother’s face that made Hannah want to reach out and take her arm and for a moment she forgot her own concerns. She didn’t understand what was wrong but she hadn’t seen her mother look this way before. But she resisted the impulse, suspecting her mother would slap her hand away. Instead she found herself saying by way of a diversion, ‘Naomi has invited me round theirs tonight, Mam. Can I go?’
 
‘What?’
 
As her mother brought her gaze away from her uncle and looked at her, Hannah said again,‘Naomi has invited me round theirs to see the New Year in. They always have a bit of a do. Can I go?’
 
Miriam straightened her back. She looked at her daughter’s heart-shaped face, at the unlined, baby soft skin which carried the silky glow of youth. She was holding on to the shopping bag so tightly her knuckles were showing white and bleached through her flesh. As Edward began to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, lass,’ she cut in tightly, ‘Yes, you can go.’
 
‘I can go?’ Hannah thought she had misheard.
 
‘Aye.’ Miriam nodded, looking at Edward again as she said, ‘You’ll likely want to be with people your own age.’
 
Hannah was so surprised it was a moment or two before she could say, ‘Well, yes.’
 
‘That’s settled then.’ Her mother’s voice was clipped, cold. ‘I’ll have dinner ready for half eight and you can go once you’ve eaten. I’ll sort out a plate of something for you to take round. You can’t go empty handed.’
 
Hannah glanced at her uncle to see if he was as amazed as she was but he was staring at her mother. After a moment he turned back to the shelf behind him and her mother disappeared upstairs.
 
 
‘She let you come!’ It was Naomi who answered Hannah’s knock at the Woods’ back door later that evening, shrieking with delight when she saw her friend. Pulling Hannah into the scullery, she said, ‘Me an’ Mam are doing the sandwiches for tonight, the others are in the front room. You can help if you like. Oh Hannah, I told you to ask, didn’t I? You see?’
 
They were both laughing as they entered the kitchen, but when Hannah saw that Naomi and her mother weren’t alone and Jake Fletcher was sitting at his mother’s kitchen table, she was taken aback. Nervously now, she said to Naomi’s mother,‘Mam sent this fruit cake round, Mrs Wood, and a tin of biscuits for tonight.’
BOOK: Above the Harvest Moon
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