‘Ethie’s coming,’ said Kate, and her expression changed a little. ‘She’s my sister. So we’d better say goodbye now, Freddie.’
Ethie was still some distance away, the laden basket on her stout arm.
Freddie felt himself go cold all over. He didn’t want his time with Kate to end so soon. There was so much he hadn’t asked her, so much he hadn’t said.
‘Well – not goodbye, Kate. I hope I’ll see you again,’ he said, and looked deeply into her brown eyes as she stood gazing up at him.
‘Thank you, Freddie, for your help. I couldn’t have managed without you,’ Kate said warmly, and hesitated as if a thought from very deep within was surfacing. ‘And thank you – for staying with me and holding my hand that day.’
She stood on tiptoe and kissed him in the hollow of his cheek, very softly, like the butterfly. He smelled her hair, and a whiff of lavender from her clothes, and her skirt brushed against his knees. Freddie was so stunned that he felt he could float away in a beautiful bubble. His body felt weightless and his mind bathed in her sweetness.
Ethie was bearing down on them with her basket.
‘Cheerio for now – Oriole Kate.’ Freddie doffed his cap, took a last look into her eyes, and strode off without looking back, the feel of her kiss embossed on his cheek forever.
Chapter Thirteen
THE ‘BEE-LOUD GLADE’
‘He’s only a lorry driver, Kate,’ said Ethie spitefully, ‘I don’t see why you’ve got to have the best picnic set for HIM.’
She slammed the light brown pigskin case on the kitchen table after Kate had persuaded her to reach it down from the top shelf.
‘Thank you.’ Kate smiled disarmingly at her sister. ‘Wait ’til you’ve got a young man, Ethie. You won’t care what job he does as long as he’s kind and handsome like Freddie.’
‘Well, I shan’t fuss over any boy like you do.’
‘You’ll never get a husband with that attitude, my girl,’ said her mother, who was busy wringing sheets through an old wooden mangle, the water streaming out across the flagstone floor and into the yard.
‘Who said anything about husbands?’ retorted Ethie. ‘I shall find a husband when I’m good and ready, and he won’t be a lorry driver.’
‘Nothing so common.’ Sally winked at Kate and the two of them laughed.
Ethie’s expression darkened with jealousy. ‘Don’t you laugh at me, Kate, just ’cause you’re such a flirt, twirling your silly dress around and showing your legs. At least I’ve got some decency. If you get married before me I’ll – I’ll never speak to you again.’
‘She’s jealous. Don’t take any notice,’ said Sally as Ethie slammed out of the kitchen and marched across the farmyard sending the chickens scattering. ‘I don’t know what gets into her. You go and have a lovely picnic with Freddie, with my blessing, Kate. You deserve a day off – and so does he, I should think. You be happy while you can.’
Kate opened the picnic set which had a set of green Bakelite plates, four round mugs and a set of cutlery neatly fixed into the lid with thick leather straps and brass buckles. She sang as she made the cucumber sandwiches, cut some slices from the big pink ham which stood on a marble slab in the larder, and packed it all into the little green dishes. She cut a hunk of cheddar from the truckle, and picked some ripe tomatoes from the plant outside the sunny kitchen. A large saucepan stood on the range full of boiled milk. The cream had risen to the top and Kate took a spoon and skimmed off some of the rich yellow crust and put it in a jar. She added fresh scones and a small pot of homemade strawberry jam.
‘There. Doesn’t that look sumptuous?’
‘Mmm – I might change my mind and come with you,’ teased Sally, and Kate laughed.
‘Don’t you dare!’ she cried, rolling up the tartan picnic rug.
Sally looked at her shrewdly, thinking her vivacious daughter was too alluring for her age, especially in the new slinky dress which she’d made herself from a satiny cream fabric. It clung provocatively to her curvy body, and the neckline allowed a glimpse of her ample cleavage. As usual, Kate had trimmed it with red ribbons threaded around the sleeves and waist, tied with little bows. And she had a flashy pair of red shoes which Sally had bought for her June birthday.
‘Seriously, dear – you will be careful, won’t you?’ she said. ‘You know what I mean, Kate.’
‘Of course. Don’t you worry at all, Mother. I can look after myself Kate smiled reassuringly, and added, ‘It’s Ethie you need to worry about, not me.’
Sally nodded, staring out of the window at the sunlit yard where Ethie was heaving a straw bale into Daisy’s stable. Then she saw a cloud of dust moving along the lane in the distance.
‘Here comes Freddie. Bring him in for a cup of tea, if he wants it.’
Kate was already taking the picnic case and rug outside to the cart, which stood at the door with Polly harnessed into it. She was pawing the ground and tossing her head at bothersome flies. The cart was covered in sparrows busy pecking out grain from its cracks and corners. They flew up and settled inside the dome of honeysuckle that hung over the porch.
‘Poor Polly. I should have tied you in the shade,’ said Kate, giving the pony a cuddle. She picked some elder leaves and sprigs of lavender and stuck them in the pony’s bridle. ‘There, that’ll keep the flies away. Now you be a good girl. We’re going up the hills and there’ll be a nice cool breeze for you there – and we’re going through the shady woods. You’ll love it, Polly.’
Freddie was nervous as he slowed the lorry and approached Hilbegut Farm with care, knowing there were always ducks or sheep pottering about. It felt strange, having what Kate called ‘a day off’. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a whole day without working, and he felt oddly furtive about it, especially as Annie had said proudly, ‘I never had a day off in my life, and neither did your father, or his father before him.’ Then she’d added, ‘I don’t know how I’m going to manage all day on my own, I hope I don’t have to go out.’
The guilt felt heavy like a yoke across his shoulders, but a tingle was in his soul. A whole day out with Kate was more than he could have dreamed about. Freddie felt apprehensive too. A picnic, she’d said, and her eyes had lit up like stars, so he’d agreed to go. He didn’t know what a picnic was, so he’d asked Herbie.
Herbie had snorted. ‘Picnics!’ he’d said. ‘I think picnics are an abomination.’
‘Why? What do you do on a picnic?’
‘You have to eat your dinner sitting on some outlandish place by the river or up some hillside. It’s always too flaming hot and you end up getting stung by a wasp or getting ants in your pants.’
Herbie had laughed his wheezy laugh then and disappeared into his dust-covered workshop. ‘Oh yes – picnics are an abomination.’
So Freddie was even more apprehensive. He hoped he wouldn’t have to dance. Kate had told him she loved dancing, and it worried Freddie. He’d never danced in his life and didn’t know how. He parked the Scammell lorry and rather awkwardly picked up the bouquet of six red roses. Annie had made it for him, cutting them from the garden and making a posy with some green leaves and a few white and purple Sweet Williams round the outside. She’d grumbled all the time, but Freddie could tell she was enjoying it as he watched her fold a cone of bread paper around the posy and tie it with a strip of ribbon.
He walked across to the cart holding the posy behind his back. Kate turned, and when he saw her radiant smile he felt welcome, and he felt life and energy flood into him.
‘You’re holding something, Freddie!’ she cried and he whipped the bouquet out and gave it to her.