Tom stared down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He wasn’t sure writing to tell David about his mother was the right thing to do. He sighed. Ivy was the letter writer, not him; he didn’t know where to start. The cockerel crowed continually letting everyone know dawn had arrived.
Annie watched her father’s troubled expression and knew he was in turmoil. She had already lit the range when he had crept down the stairs expecting to find the kitchen empty; the heat was beginning to filter through. She carried a cup of strong tea over to the kitchen table and placed it in front of him, thankful the others hadn’t come down yet.
Tom looked up. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ He threw the pen down onto the table. ‘Would you really want to hear such news by letter?’
Annie sat down next to him. ‘Pa, you’ve no choice, it’s not as though you can jump on the train to visit him.’ She lowered her voice to barely a whisper. ‘Imagine how he would feel if he was excited about coming home to see you and Ma and then found out, is that any better?’
Tom put his hands up to his face and rubbed it hard. ‘But what if he is so upset, he gets killed? Then we’ve lost both of them.’
Annie looked at her father through blurred eyes, feeling his pain. ‘What would Ma say? What would she want you to do?’
Tom’s lips tightened. ‘Your ma was all about choice, letting you all live the life you want to live and not sit in judgment of you all.’ He took a deep breath. ‘She made me a better person.’
Annie pressed her hand against the rough wool of her father’s jumper. ‘She will always be with you, with all of us. She’s in our hearts.’ Her throat tightened. She coughed trying to clear the lump that was forming. ‘I know it’s hard but do what you think she would want you to do, because that’s what you would have done if she was here.’
Tom nodded and gave a small smile. ‘It doesn’t mean I would have liked doing it though.’
Annie laughed. ‘No, but she was a very persuasive woman whose spirit lives on in all of us, so prepare yourself for what lies ahead.’
Tom picked up the pen and began to write to his son.
Dear David,
This is a very difficult letter for me to write…
*
Annie stood up, her chair scraping across the floor.
Tom looked up.
‘Sorry, Pa, I thought I’d leave you in peace so write what’s in your heart.’
Tom gave a small smile. ‘You’re a good girl, Annie, thank you.’
Annie nodded. ‘I love you, Pa.’ She bent over and kissed the top of his head. ‘It’s my regret that I never told Ma I loved her enough.’
‘You didn’t have to, she knew, and there’s nothing she wouldn’t have done for you.’
‘I know, Pa, I know.’ Annie took a step away from him. ‘I shall leave you to write your letter in peace.’ She picked up a white dish and walked over to the back door, putting on an old gardening coat that was hanging next to it.
Tom watched her button it up. ‘Where are you going?’
Annie smiled. ‘My job was always to sort out the chickens so that’s what I’m going to do, and I’ll collect the eggs for breakfast.’ She picked up an old metal dish and scooped some feed into it and opened the door, letting in the cold air, which chased the heat away. ‘I won’t be long.’ She gently closed the door.
Tugging a woollen hat from the coat pocket, Annie pulled it on her head, making sure her ears were covered, and wandered over to the henhouse. She shook her head as she thought about her mother, unable to believe she wasn’t going to see her again. Annie thought about her own words to her father and what her mother would have wanted for her and the family. It was time for her to be strong and give up her dream for the family and do it with a good heart. Dot and Arthur jumped into her mind. Fancy not knowing they were husband and wife, and Joyce not knowing that Dot wasn’t that far away. Her mother’s passing had at least brought the family together again. Annie smiled; her mother would have been pleased about that, always one to find the good in any situation.
Annie unlatched the henhouse, the hens clucking all around her feet. ‘You all right, ladies? Have you missed me?’ Her fingers went into the feed and she began scattering it on to the ground. ‘I’ve got something to tell you but you can’t repeat it to anyone.’ She leant against the wire fencing and watched the chickens pecking at the ground. ‘I’ve left my heart in London. His name’s Peter. Pa would love him, he believes in all the things Pa does, you know, working the land and all that.’ She frowned. ‘But I won’t be going back now, that love has to be boxed away with the dream of being on stage, so you’re back to listening to my endless chatter every day.’ Annie sighed. ‘I’m not sad about the stage – well, I am a little – but I shall miss Peter. Still it’s time to grow up and at least I experienced theatre life and met Peter, not that I know whether he felt the same about me.’ She pushed herself off the fence. ‘I would have talked to Ma about all this but… anyway, I’m going to need plenty of eggs over the next few days, we have more mouths to feed.’ She picked up another handful of seed and threw it around on the ground. ‘It’s a strange time, you won’t be seeing Ma anymore.’ Annie’s eyes welled up and she sucked in the cold air. ‘We have Dot here at the moment, but none of you will remember her. She’s Pa’s sister. We also have Arthur Bradshaw, he was Pa’s friend many years ago but he’s now Dot’s husband.’ She threw another handful of food down for them. ‘Rose was here but she’s gone home to see her family.’ She chuckled. ‘And I’m going to be locked away soon because I’m talking to you chickens like you understand me.’
Annie went into the hut and gathered the eggs into the bowl. ‘You’ve done well, ladies, Ma would be proud of you.’ She unlatched the wooden gate and walked out, pulling the gate closed behind her. She stared out at the fields. ‘You know I’ve enjoyed being in London but I have missed all of this as well, it’s so quiet here compared to London.’ Annie looked back at the chickens. ‘Well, I’d love to stand and chat all day but it’s cold out here and I’ve got things to do.’ She slowly walked back to the house. While stamping the mud off her boots Annie reached out, opened the door and walked in. Voices reached her from the kitchen, it sounded like everyone was up. She pasted on her smile and walked through to the kitchen.
*
Stan sat on the chaise longue in Kitty’s dressing room. ‘Do I need to find you another dresser?’
Kitty lifted her glass and took a sip of the white wine inside it. She peered over the edge of it and looked around the room. ‘You know I’m quite proud I’ve managed to keep it tidy since Annie’s been gone.’
Stan laughed. ‘It’s only been just over a week, but yes, you have managed very well.’
‘I miss her, you know, she quietly went about her business and yet made a difference, and if I’m honest I don’t understand why.’
Stan looked thoughtful. ‘I think it’s because she didn’t ask for anything from you. All your life people have used you to their own ends but Annie didn’t. I think she genuinely admired you and wanted to look after you.’
Kitty smiled. ‘How much wine have you had?’ She took another gulp of her drink.
Stan laughed and put down his glass. ‘Clearly too much. If I’m not careful I’ll be declaring my undying love for you next.’
Kitty spluttered as her mouthful of wine ran down her throat.
Stan patted her on the back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you choke.’
Kitty gasped for air. ‘What did you expect, Mr Tyler, playing with me when I’m drinking?’
Colour began to rise up Stan’s neck. ‘Who says I’m playing?’
‘I do, it’s the wine talking. We’ve worked together for years and we’ve never so much as kissed each other.’
‘No.’ Stan’s colour deepened. ‘But how many shows have we worked on together? I know I’ve lost count, but at least I could keep you close to me until you were ready to settle down.’
Kitty jumped up. ‘Stop playing with me, Stan.’
‘I’m not.’
Kitty walked over to the sink and tipped the wine out of her glass, watching it disappear down the plughole. ‘Then talk to me when you haven’t been drinking.’ She turned to look at Stan. ‘I need your help. It’s not for me, it’s for Annie and my last dresser but I won’t take advantage. We’ll talk another day.’ A resounding knock on Kitty’s dressing room door made them both jump. ‘Come in.’
The door opened and Miss Hetherington stepped in.
‘Mr Tyler, I need to talk to you about my lack of seamstresses. With Dorothy and Rose gone, I’m being kept extremely busy.’
Kitty smiled. ‘What’s the matter, Jane, are you having to do some work yourself instead of lording it over everyone?’
Jane glared at Kitty. ‘You had no business saying they could both go off without checking with me first.’
‘But you would have said no.’ Kitty frowned. ‘And none of the girls have missed a day since they have been here so doesn’t a family crisis deserve time off? Or have you totally forgotten how to be human and feel other people’s pain?’
Jane turned to Stan. ‘I have a crisis going on in my own department that needs addressing, Mr Tyler, and I’m looking to you to do that.’
Stan stood up and eyed Jane Hetherington. ‘I will next week if none of them are back by then but until then we muddle through, even if it means you have to do more than manage the inventory.’ He watched her face turn thunderous.
‘How ridiculous! It takes time to find a good seamstress and I hear that a lot of women are taking on some of the men’s work in factories because it’s more money. How are we meant to compete with that?’
Stan sighed. ‘We don’t compete, we treat people that work for us better.’ He paused. ‘Remember where you came from, Jane. We were all young at some point, we’ve all needed someone to help us along, to encourage us and I’m not going to make them out of work, or worse, homeless because you can’t be patient, so we wait.’
Kitty clapped her hands with joy.
Jane glared at Kitty and Stan in turn before turning away. ‘Between the alcohol and the perfume, it smells like a brothel in here.’ She slammed the door on the way out.
Kitty giggled. ‘I think we’ve upset her.’ She sniffed the air. ‘I’ve never been in a brothel, is this really what they smell like?’
Stan laughed. ‘Why are you asking me?’
*
Dorothy and Annie walked out to the fields that surrounded the house. Their footsteps imprinted into the crisp white snow that had fallen overnight, leaving their mark along with the birds and other small animals that had left paw prints on show.
Annie breathed in deeply, enjoying the freshness of the air. ‘I can’t get my head around that my Aunt Dorothy, Dot and Mr Bradshaw’s wife are all the same person. Why didn’t you say something?’
Dot gazed ahead, drinking in the view of white nothingness. There were no buildings to get in the way, no traffic noise, just dogs barking and the rooster crowing. ‘I didn’t know myself until recently but then I didn’t know how to approach it or if I was even right or not.’
Annie shook her head. ‘Well, I’m glad it’s all out in the open.’ She paused. ‘As much as it was a shock for all concerned, my father was genuinely pleased to see you.’
Dot tightened her lips for a moment. ‘As I was him, although I have to say I wasn’t expecting to see Arthur here. That totally stopped me in my tracks.’
Annie adjusted the basket that was resting on her arm. ‘What will you do? Wait, before you answer, you need to know he was a broken man when Rose and I arrived at the house. He has kept all your things in the basement and I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t drinking a lot but he seems to have cleaned himself up.’
Dot laughed. ‘You don’t have to defend him, he was drinking a lot when I left. The problem was we weren’t grieving together, the loss of our son took us down separate paths.’
Annie nodded. ‘Do you think you can both find your way back onto the same path again?’
‘I don’t know, it was such a long time ago, and I’m not the same person anymore.’
Annie rested her hand on Dot’s arm. ‘That’s the thing, neither is he. You know he showed me so much kindness when he brought me home and I now know that was a big thing for him to do as well.’ She gave a little smile. ‘The other thing is that when you both think no one is looking you are watching each other, so I think you both still love each other. And, of course, he’s now a dab hand at making a cup of tea. What more could you ask for?’
Dot giggled. ‘I didn’t realise he was watching me too?’
‘Everyone is watching everyone in case we all fall down with grief.’
Dot nodded. ‘How are you managing?’
Annie lowered her eyes. ‘I’ve cried so much I don’t think there’s anything else to come out. I don’t want to ever forget her smell, her voice or her kindness. Sadly, I probably didn’t appreciate her enough when she was alive but I hope she realised how much I loved her, do love her.’
‘A mother knows, she doesn’t need to be told all the time. It’s the actions that are more important.’
Annie blinked rapidly to stop the tears from forming. ‘Oh yes, Dot, and what was my action? To leave the farm.’
Dot shook her head. ‘Don’t do that to yourself. Your mother supported your actions, she gave you money to have your adventure. How brilliant is that?’
Annie nodded. ‘I know but I truly wouldn’t have left had I known she wasn’t well.’
‘And that’s exactly why she would never have told you.’ Dot took a deep breath. ‘You know I only had William for seven years but I know there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for him. He was my life and I would have supported him in anything he wanted to do.’ She paused. ‘Well, I say anything, but I wouldn’t have supported him in becoming a killer or anything awful like that.’
Annie laughed. ‘You are funny, Dot, that goes without saying.’ Colour rushed up Annie’s face. ‘I suppose I had better get used to calling you Auntie Dorothy.’
Dot shook her head. ‘Dot will do. I haven’t earned the right to be called Auntie yet.’
‘You have. You came back, which has made my father and grandfather very happy at a difficult time.’ Annie tucked her arm through Dot’s.
Dot patted Annie’s hand. ‘You’re being too kind to me. I left the village without warning at what was a hard time for your parents.’ She sighed. ‘My mother had just died and I was distraught, but unfortunately I wasn’t thinking about anyone else, I was only thinking about me and my problem and how my father would have disowned me.’
Annie shook her head. ‘It was a different time then. It must have been heart-breaking for you to have to make that decision so stop being so hard on yourself. As we now know, things can change so quickly and life is too short to hold onto the bad things that happen to us.’
‘You have an old head on those young shoulders, Annie.’
Annie’s lips straightened into a thin line as she thought about Matthew. She had never told anyone about him kissing and slapping her that day in Kitty’s dressing room. ‘I’ve learnt a lot since I left here to follow my dream.’ She looked across at Dot. ‘Let’s go and gather the eggs and feed the chickens.’
Dot’s lips formed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes; something was going on with Annie and she guessed it was something to do with the theatre and her dream. She would have to talk to Tom.