‘This is starting to look like a stonemason’s yard,’ said Annie, pointing at the blocks of stone Freddie had stashed against the wall. ‘What are you going to do with all those?’
‘Make things.’
‘Make a mess, more like. Look at all this dust.’
Freddie went on chiselling silently.
‘And when you’re not out here, you’re upstairs writing letters to that Loxley girl,’ complained Annie.
Freddie slowly put his tools down, dipped his hands in a bucket of water and dried them on a cloth. He looked at his mother’s eyes in the soft blue twilight and saw past the anger and into the pain.
‘You want me at home, don’t you?’ he asked.
Annie nodded.
‘Then it’s time we had a talk,’ said Freddie. He put an arm around his mother’s shoulders, led her inside and sat her down at the scullery table. He looked at her quietly, thinking that this armour-plated woman, who had both protected and intimidated him in his childhood, was getting smaller and smaller. It wasn’t just the physical weight she was losing. It was a dying flame. Since Levi’s death, Annie’s inner light had burned down like a candle flame reaching the end of the wick, turning slowly to a smoking bead of fire.
‘What is there to talk about?’ she asked, a sharp blade of anxiety in her voice.
‘Well, there’s Kate,’ said Freddie, and even saying her name brought a glow to his heart. ‘The fact is, Mother, whether you like it or not, I love Kate Loxley and I intend to marry her.’
‘Marry her?’ Annie went stiff. She stared into Freddie’s eyes and saw that he meant it. Her life stretched out before her like a wintry road leading into a dark forest where finally she must face her demons alone.
‘Now you listen to me,’ began Freddie, and his eyes flared blue with wordless passion, compelling her to listen. ‘It’s not going to happen straight away. But you’ve got to prepare yourself, Mother, find a way of managing your life without me. If you do it one step at a time, you can, and I’ll help you, but I’m not going to be here forever.’
Annie was twisting her ring round and round her finger. She wanted to be glad that her youngest son had found a future wife, she wanted to say how proud she was of Freddie. But layers of extreme fear had constructed a chrysalis around what was really in her heart.
‘I hope that brazen young hussy deserves you,’ she said, and immediately felt the sting of guilt, especially when Freddie’s face registered the hurt. She marvelled that even though his face went a deep red, his eyes stayed calm, and he didn’t get up and smash china like Levi would have done. She wanted to say sorry but the apology was buried too deep in her psyche.
‘You don’t mean that,’ Freddie said, watching the conflict crawl through her eyes.
Annie reached for his hand and held it tightly between her swollen fingers. Her throat felt paralysed.
‘’Tis no good. I can’t go out. I just can’t,’ she whispered, and Freddie sat looking at her, letting the silence settle between them. Once again nothing had been resolved. They had taken the same old journey and arrived at the same old barrier, and once again his plans to go and see Kate had to be put on hold. He’d seen a motorbike he wanted to buy, and he’d told Kate about it in his letter. A motorbike would enable him to go across on the ferry, and inside he was buzzing with excitement at the thought. He could stay the night at Asan Farm, and have salmon for supper, Kate had promised in her letter. He must go before the autumn weather set in. It was now nearly October, and, once the rains started, the Levels were flooded through the winter. Monterose was cut off, standing like an island in the flooded fields. A motorbike would have no chance.
Freddie was pondering how to explain this to his mother. If he told her about his proposed trip she would close down like a roller blind, and her attitude to Kate would darken. But now she said something surprising.
‘You’ll have to buy her a ring,’ she said, her eyes brightening a little.
‘A ring. What – a wedding ring?’
‘No. An engagement ring.’
Annie went to the dresser and opened the secret drawer at the back. She took out a scuffed navy blue box, brought it to the table and opened it. Inside was an ornate gold ring set with a dark sapphire.
‘That was my engagement ring,’ she said. ‘Your father gave it me. It’s like a promise, an engagement ring. I don’t wear it now, ’tis too good to wear, but sometimes I take it out and look at it.’
Freddie nodded. ‘I’m saving up for one,’ he said. ‘But I’ve got to get the motorbike first.’
‘A motorbike!’ Annie looked horrified. ‘You can’t ride a motorbike in the winter! Why, you’ll catch pneumonia, Freddie, believe me, with your bad chest. Don’t do such a stupid thing. I’ll worry myself sick about you. I worry enough as it is.’
Freddie wished he hadn’t mentioned it, just as he’d thought Annie was coming round to the idea of him marrying Kate.
‘That’s two shocks in one day,’ she complained. ‘How can I sleep in my bed at night?’
‘Whether you like it or not, Mother, you’d better start getting used to it,’ said Freddie steadily. ‘And the stone carving. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I’m carving an angel, and when its finished I shall give it to Kate. Then I’ll make you something. How about an owl?’
‘I don’t like owls,’ said Annie. ‘They give me the creeps.’
‘You’re not really going to do this, Kate?’ asked Ethie as the two girls swanned up the main street of Lynesend.
‘I’ve made my mind up.’
‘But what will Freddie say?’ teased Ethie, a touch maliciously.
Kate tossed her head. ‘He’s not going to see me, is he?’ She pushed open the door of the new Ladies’ Hairdressing Salon and went in with her usual radiant smile. ‘Wait until you see mine, Ethie, then you can decide whether to have yours done. Come on, it’s the latest fashion. We’ve got to move with the times. And just think, Ethie, we won’t have to go through all that agony every week, combing it out and disentangling it, and we won’t have it blowing in our faces. It’s so windy up here.’
Half an hour later both girls emerged with their hair cut short in a fashionable bob, Kate beaming and Ethie scowling as she caught sight of her reflection in shop windows.
‘Wheee! I feel LIBERATED!’ cried Kate and she flung her arms in the air and danced in the street, swishing her skirt and laughing.
‘For goodness’ sake, Kate!’ Ethie rolled her eyes. She had to admit Kate did look good with her glossy hair short and curling cheekily onto her rosy face. Whatever Kate did, she looked marvellous. It wasn’t fair. Ethie touched the back of her neck and it felt cold and bristly. She was sure the new hairdo accentuated her pimples and made her face look fat.
‘Come on. We’re going to buy some STOCKINGS.’ Kate dragged her into a draper’s shop and bought them each a pair of silk stockings. ‘Now we can go dancing,’ she said, her eyes alight as they left the shop and found themselves opposite the town hall where a poster proclaimed ‘Saturday Night Dance’.
‘I can’t dance,’ said Ethie. ‘You know that, Kate.’
‘You can. You learned it at school like I did, Ethie. Come on, it’s time you had some FUN.’
‘Dancing isn’t fun. Dancing is torture.’
Kate stood and looked at her sister in concern. Ethie looked like a guilty dog who had stolen a chicken carcass. Her mouth drooped and her pale blue eyes were furtive and full of pain.
‘What is wrong, Ethie?’ she asked, holding out both her hands to her sister. She wanted to understand what it was that made Ethie perpetually unhappy. ‘Are you homesick?’
Ethie’s eyes prickled. She couldn’t accept Kate’s warm kindness. She thought of the stolen letters and suddenly wanted to blurt it all out, there in the street, but she couldn’t.