Jed stared at Mr and Mrs Pendleton. No! He wouldn’t let his father be arrested and imprisoned, at his advanced years. It wasn’t fair. All right, Isaac had committed a crime in his youth, but he’d hurt no one and after all these years he didn’t deserve to suffer for it. The worry after the jewels were found was punishment enough.
‘Jed? That you, son? Need some help in here . . .’ Isaac’s quavery voice called from the front room – once Edie’s parlour but now a bedroom and sitting room for the old man.
‘I’ll be with you in a moment,’ Jed called back. He turned to Mrs Pendleton. The woman had shown him kindness in the past, and his instincts told him she was the one to appeal to rather than her husband. ‘You hear him? I expect he’s wet himself again. Beg pardon, ma’am, to speak so bluntly but you must see how it is. He couldn’t cope with arrest and trial. It would be the end of him.’
‘How is your little girl?’ Mrs Pendleton asked suddenly. She had that odd look on her face again, the same one of longing and cunning that he’d seen at the Glydesdale churchyard.
Jed started at the abrupt change of topic. Mr Pendleton, too, stared at his wife with a frown on his face.
‘Stella? She’s well, thank you for asking. She’s taken my little one out to play so that I might work uninterrupted. Although as you see there is still my father to care for.’
As if to back up his words, Isaac called out to him again. ‘Jed! I need to use the pot!’
‘You have a lot to deal with,’ Mrs Pendleton said. There was a touch of compassion in her voice, but something else as well. Something calculating, and Jed did not like it.
‘I manage,’ he said guardedly.
Mrs Pendleton turned to her husband. ‘We should leave him be, Sebastian. He has work to do. We will consider what to do about his father – one way or another it will be resolved before we leave Westmorland, I promise you.’
‘Are you changing your mind about pressing charges against Mr Walker, Alexandria?’
‘No, I am not. But there may be another way.’ She turned back to Jed. ‘You need to see to your father’s needs now. We will leave you. But this is not over. We must talk it through some more. Come to see us at Brackendale House.’ She stood, pulled on her gloves, and beckoned for her husband to follow. He did so, with a confused frown on his face.
Jed showed them out, watching as the chauffeur scrambled out of the Bentley to open the car doors for them. As she climbed in, Mrs Pendleton looked back at him. ‘Don’t forget to come and see us about this soon, or we will most certainly press charges against your father.’
Jed frowned. ‘Not sure quite how I can manage that, ma’am. I have my little one, and no one to mind her.’
‘Bring her with you. I may have something for her.’ Mrs Pendleton waved a hand at the chauffeur who closed the car door, got in himself, and drove off.
Jed sighed, and went inside to deal with Isaac’s mess.
It was a frustrating day. After the interruption by the Pendletons, Jed found it hard to immerse himself in his work. Isaac seemed to be particularly needy as well. Jed had not told him what the Pendletons had wanted – just fobbed the old man off with a story about Sam Wrightson and his wife calling with a child’s pram that needed repairing. Isaac’s hearing was none too good, and although he’d heard two voices he had not been able to pick out any of the conversation, and seemed satisfied with Jed’s lie.
Even his work did not go well. Jed mislaid tools, burned a finger on his soldering iron, stood backwards onto a bicycle wheel and bent it out of shape, dropped a box of assorted nuts and bolts and spent ages crawling around on the floor trying to retrieve them all. He was in a foul mood by the time Stella returned with Jessie. The girls were bright-eyed and excited, chattering about the baby rabbits they’d seen by the lakeside, the kittens old George up at Top Farm had shown them, the den they’d made under the roots of a fallen tree. Jessie was giggling as she so often did, the sound like a babbling brook, but for once it did not make Jed smile. The child was filthy and her dress torn. More work for him then, to bathe the child, wash her clothes and attempt to repair the rip. Women’s work, and he with no woman to do it. How he missed Edie!
‘Stella, could you not at least try to keep your sister clean and her clothes untorn? This is the second time in a week you’ve brought her home covered in mud,’ he snapped. Jessie stopped giggling and her lower lip quivered. He knew she hated it when he raised his voice. But too bad. She was three now and old enough to understand right from wrong. ‘And you, Jessie. Keep out of the mud!’
Jessie began to cry openly.
‘Stop that wailing. I can’t be dealing with it now. Off with you both.’
‘Come on, Jessie. Let’s go and see Grandpa,’ Stella whispered to her sister.
‘Aye, your bloody Grandpa, with his loose bladder, bringing more trouble on us,’ Jed grumbled. Stella stared at him, wide-eyed, then grabbed her bawling sister by the hand and pulled her away, into Isaac’s room.
Jed sat down at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. How could he cope with it all? He needed a wife, someone to share the workload with, and the girls needed a mother. Perhaps he had been too hasty turning down Maggie. But as soon as this thought entered his mind he chased it away again. If he did ever remarry, it surely wouldn’t be her.
Somehow he got through the evening chores – making dinner and clearing up afterwards, bathing Jessie, washing a tubful of laundry and hanging it on a clothes horse in front of the range to dry. He helped Isaac use the pot and get into bed, and put Jessie to bed too.
‘Are you going to the pub tonight, Pa?’ Stella asked. ‘I’ll watch Jessie if you want to go. I’ll mend her dress, too.’
‘No, lass. I’m too tired tonight, but thank you.’ He still felt guilty for snapping at her earlier. She was a good child, the only inhabitant of his cottage who wasn’t a burden on him. If it was just the two of them they’d manage easily.
He went to check on Jessie. She was asleep, her blonde curls looking angelic about her face. He sighed. She was no bother when she was asleep. If only she could sleep for ever.
The following day, Sunday, Jed was trying to work out when and how he should pay a visit to the Pendletons as they had requested. They had not given him a deadline, but he felt he should go within a week, or they might follow up on their threat to press charges against Isaac. How he would get there he wasn’t sure, not with little Jessie in tow. If he was on his own or with Stella, he would walk down the valley to the dam, from where a new bus service ran to Penrith. He could get off at a stop near the end of the lane that led to Brackendale House. Jessie could not walk as far as the dam, and she would be difficult to carry. But Mrs Pendleton had said there might be something for her, and he had the impression that pleading Isaac’s case would go down better if he did everything she’d asked, including bringing the child. So one way or another he would manage it. He owed it to Isaac. He would do all he could to protect his father.
He was standing outside his front door, gazing up at the surrounding fells and trying to judge what the weather would be that day, when the postman arrived on his motorbike. He pulled up in front of Jed and handed him a letter, which Jed took in surprise. He did not get many letters and this was his second in two days. The first, hand-delivered the previous evening, he was still pondering. It was unusual to have a delivery on a Sunday, but the postman explained that there’d been a delay and he was catching up. For a moment he was fearful it would be from the police, or the Pendletons, or the magistrates, and connected with Isaac’s crime, but the envelope was addressed in a hand he vaguely recognised from Christmas cards. It was from Edie’s sister, Winnie, and announced that she intended paying him a visit, to ‘see how you are getting on’. It would be the first time he’d seen her since Edie’s funeral. The date for the visit, he realised, was that very day, which meant he could not go to the Pendletons yet. It was a relief to be able to put it off for a bit longer.
He spent the morning tidying the little cottage, ensuring Isaac was presentable and that the girls were in clean clothes. He wanted everything to look as though he was coping well without Edie. Even though, the Lord knew, he wasn’t. Win had a kind heart, like her sister. He didn’t want her to be worried about her nieces.
Winnie arrived in the early afternoon, having been given a lift by a Penrith tradesman who had business in Brackendale. She greeted Jed with a warm hug and a kiss. ‘My lift back is at five o’clock. I hope you got my letter and that I’m not disturbing you too much?’
‘Not at all, lass. It’s lovely to see you.’ Jed meant it. She was a connection to Edie, someone who had known and loved his wife as much as he did. It was good to have her around. He ushered her through to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Stella was playing with Jessie on the rug on the floor. Isaac was asleep in a chair in his own room. ‘We’ll have to sit in here, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘I’ve had to move my Pa into the parlour. He’s too frail to cope by himself any more. It’s easier to care for him here.’
Win’s face softened with sympathy. ‘Ah, Jed, you have it hard, don’t you? I wish I lived nearer and could do more to help you day by day. Where will you move to when the dam is finished? Will you come nearer to Penrith and let me do what I can to help?’
‘Aye, I might. I haven’t looked into it yet – I’ve not had time to do so. But it’d be good to be nearer you, Win, and I’d appreciate any help. Are there jobs going in Penrith, do you know?’
She shrugged and gave a small apologetic smile. The area had not recovered fully since the Great Depression at the start of the decade. ‘I’m sure there’ll be something for you. I’ll ask around.’
‘Thank you. I’ll need somewhere for us to live, too. There’ll be money – the waterworks will pay us for our properties when the dam is complete. But I doubt it’ll be enough for a house in town. I’ll be renting, I expect.’
‘I’ll keep an eye out for something suitable.’
‘See my picture?’ Jessie thrust a piece of paper covered in crayon scribbles in front of Win’s nose.
‘Did you draw this, Jessie? It’s splendid!’
Jed smiled, watching Win examine the scribbles carefully as though it was a detailed work of art. It was just how Edie used to be with the children. Win was unmarried and childless, yet she was totally natural around them. She’d make a good mother.
‘Aunt Win, I’ve drawn something too,’ Stella said, and handed over her drawing, which showed a flock of sheep with smiling faces on a hillside.
‘Beautiful, Stella dear. You’re very talented.’ Win turned back to Jed. ‘You’re doing a good job with the girls. Edie would be so proud of them. I wish I could do more to help you now, before you move.’
A thought occurred to Jed, taking him by surprise. He liked Win. He didn’t love her the way he’d loved Edie – no one would ever come close. But he respected her, enjoyed her company, and she was certainly good with the children. Could they . . . would she? It was not a topic he could broach in front of the girls.
‘Stella, take your sister outside to play now, would you?’
‘But Pa, it’s raining a bit,’ Stella said. ‘And you wanted us to keep clean.’
Jed glanced out of the window. ‘It’s only drizzle. Put your coats on. Don’t go near the lake – stay in the village.’
Stella rolled her eyes but fetched her and Jessie’s coats. ‘Come on, Jessie. We’ll go and look at Mrs Earnshaw’s hens. Maybe we can collect some eggs for her.’
When they’d left, Jed turned to Win, who was regarding him with an enquiring look in her eyes. ‘Win, it’s a lot to ask, but could you . . . do you think . . . is there any way that you would . . .’ He could not seem to find a way to say it.
‘What is it, Jed? You know I would do anything in my power for you.’
He sighed, and took her hand across the table. It was cool and smooth. ‘I do need help, Win. I’m doing my best, but I’m struggling without a wife. I’ve got to earn a living to keep us all, and I can’t do that with Jessie under my feet and poor old Pa calling out to me every few minutes.’
‘What are you asking, Jed?’ Win said carefully, a small frown between her eyes. ‘If you’re asking me to be your wife then I’m sorry, the answer’s no. I can’t do that.’ She gently pulled her hand away and stared out of the window for a moment. ‘I’ve not told you, but I have a gentleman friend. In Penrith. He works in the bank, and we’ve been stepping out a while now. I know – at my age I thought I’d be a spinster for ever, but perhaps I won’t, if Herbert gets up the courage to ask me.’ She sighed. ‘Besides, I don’t think I could in all honesty step into my sister’s shoes in that way. I’m sorry, Jed. You’re a lovely man. There will be someone else for you.’
‘Win, love, I’m so pleased to hear you have a man. You and me – that was just a thought. Forget I ever said anything.’
She laughed. ‘I don’t think you actually did say anything, did you? Listen, I want to help, I really do. I would take Jessie off your hands if I could, but for the moment I need to be able to work and I don’t think I could, with a little one in the house. Perhaps if Herbert does marry me he might agree to us taking her in, as his salary would be enough for the both of us. But we’re a little way off that. I could take Stella, if it would help. She’s old enough to look after herself when I’m at work.’
Jed shook his head. ‘Thank you, Win, but Stella’s a big help to me here. She’s the only reason I’m coping at all. If you could have taken Jessie for me, just until we moved to Penrith and got settled, that would have helped but I do understand that you can’t. We’ll manage. Don’t worry.’
‘Ah, Jed, I do worry, you know. But once you’ve moved to Penrith I can do more for you. And I’ll keep my ears and eyes open for jobs and lodgings for you.’
‘You’re a good woman, Win. Herbert’s a lucky man.’ Jed smiled at her.
‘Yes, I think he is,’ she said, laughing again. ‘I’m glad you’ve not taken this hard, Jed. You’re a good man and my sister was lucky to have you. When you’ve moved nearer to me I’ll see a lot more of you and the girls. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll do what I can to find job opportunities and lodgings for you, as I promised. Herbert will too. We’ll see you right, don’t you fret.’
‘Thank you, Win,’ he said again. He felt a mixture of emotions that she had turned him down. Disappointment, certainly, for had she agreed it could have meant the solution to his problems. But also relief. She might be a lovely woman and Edie’s sister, but she was not Edie and he was not ready to take another wife.
Besides, there was no telling what Maggie might do if she heard he was getting wed again. A chill ran through him. His instinct told him she could be dangerous if crossed. She could harm him. Or harm the people he loved. And he had already crossed her, spurning her advances that night after the fight in the pub.