As they sat down to lunch in the restaurant, which Trip had recommended, he said, ‘This is very nice, Mother. Is there any particular reason?’
Constance glanced at him and smiled. ‘It’s funny you should ask that. There wasn’t when I arrived this morning, but there is now.’
‘Oh,’ Trip said, trying to keep the smile from his own face as he spread his napkin on his knee and took the menu from the waiter’s hand. ‘Let’s order first and then you can tell me.’
They studied the menu and placed their orders for drinks, starters and main courses. As the waiter gave a little bow towards them and then moved away, Trip said, ‘Fire away, Mother.’
‘I think I told you not long ago how George and I knew one another when we were youngsters.’
‘You did. Go on.’
‘We were very good friends. Very – close, and if it hadn’t been for the disapproval of both our fathers, I think things might have developed even then into something more than just friendship. In fact, I know they would have. But I was only fifteen when my father banned me from seeing George. As I grew older and one or two suitors came knocking at the door, my father chose Arthur Trippet as the man I should marry. He saw in him an entrepreneurial streak and thought that the money and lands, which I would one day inherit, would be used wisely. Being so young, I didn’t have the courage to disobey him and by that time, I knew that George’s father was also firmly set against our – friendship. You see my father would have ruined Alfie Bayes, if he’d been so minded. And believe me, he would have been.’
She was quiet for a moment, as if thinking back down the years, perhaps thinking about ‘what might have been’. Trip too remained silent, waiting until she felt like continuing. He was desperately sorry for his mother, who had been dominated all her life by ruthlessly ambitious men. He certainly knew from experience how callous his own father had been when he did not get his own way. Now, he was learning that poor Constance had been ruled by two of them. He hoped that what she was about to tell him would lead to a much happier life for her.
She was playing nervously with the cutlery on the table and avoiding looking into his eyes. ‘This morning, George asked me to marry him and I’ve – I’ve agreed.’ She chuckled suddenly and was like a girl again. ‘George suggested that we should elope, but I wanted to tell you. I need to have your approval, Thomas.’ Now she looked up at him to meet his gaze and her eyes were pleading.
Trip reached across the table. ‘My darling Mother, of course you have it. George is a lovely man and if he’s the one to make you happy, then I’m all for it.’ He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. ‘But would you really like to elope? Run away together and come back married or do you want a big village wedding?’
‘It’d be exciting, wouldn’t it?’ Her eyes shone at the thought. ‘But no, in the circumstances, I don’t think either of us would want a lot of fuss and tongues wagging.’
‘Then do it, Mother. I’ll tell Emily, of course, but we won’t tell anyone else.’
‘Really? Do you think I – we – should?’
Trip chuckled. ‘I really do, Mother. I think it would be perfect.’ He paused and then asked, ‘Have you thought about where you would live though, because I don’t think George would be happy living in Riversdale House, do you?’
Constance laughed, throwing her head back and not caring who heard her. ‘He mentioned the same thing and I told him that nothing was insurmountable when two people loved each other. Just like when you and Emily were married. We had problems then, didn’t we?’
‘But you were on our side, Mother,’ he said softly, remembering how she had sided with the young couple against her husband and had even held the reception for the double wedding between Trip and Emily and Josh and Amy at Riversdale House. The whole village had attended and the only person missing had been Arthur Trippet. ‘And now I’m on yours. And I know Emily will be too. You and George do whatever you want to do and you have my blessing. I just want – more than anything – to see you happy.’
Emily was thrilled when Trip told her that evening. ‘How romantic!’
‘But we’re not to say a word to anyone. I think for two pins they’d have gone without even telling us.’
Emily laughed. ‘That’s what they should have done, but I expect she didn’t want to risk upsetting you.’
Trip wrinkled his forehead thoughtfully. ‘I really can’t think of anything that my mother could possibly do that would upset me.’
Emily put her arms around him and laid her cheek against his chest, listening for a moment to the rhythmic beat of his heart. ‘You’re a wonderful son, Trip, husband and now a father too. Don’t ever change, will you?’
His arms tightened about her as he bent to kiss her.
‘How do you like my new hairstyle, Trip? It’s all the rage. It’s called a shingle.’
Emily had had her blond hair cut short at the back and there were waves and curls framing her face.
‘I like it. It’s very pretty, but then,’ he said, kissing the tip of her nose, ‘you always look pretty.’
‘And I treated myself to a new suit. I have to look smart when I’m visiting customers.’
Emily held up a gold-coloured skirt and matching jacket trimmed with a black fur collar and cuffs.
‘And a cloche hat to go with it.’
‘Very nice,’ Trip approved. ‘You’ll have your customers falling over themselves to give you orders. I’ll take you to Ashford on Sunday and show you off, though,’ he added, with a chuckle, ‘I doubt my mother or yours will take much notice of you when Lewis is around.’
When they pulled up outside the blacksmith’s house on the Sunday afternoon, Harry ran out and hurled himself at them. ‘Uncle Trip! Aunty Emily! Did you see the papers? Have you heard the news? Isn’t it thrilling?’
Alighting from the car, Trip picked him up and swung him round. ‘What’s all the excitement about?’
‘Last weekend Charles Lindbergh flew across the Atlantic from New York to Paris. Imagine that, Uncle Trip, three thousand six hundred miles non-stop. Granddad Walter is going to help me make a model of his aircraft. It’s called Spirit of St Louis.’ The little boy pronounced the name ‘Lewis’. ‘And it’s a Ryan NYP monoplane. Fancy him calling his plane after me and Lewis. He must know I like planes. Does Lewis like planes, Uncle Trip?’
‘He’s too young yet, old chap, but I expect he will when he’s older.’
Emily climbed out of the car carrying Lewis and laughed. ‘He will if he’s around you for long, won’t he, Harry?’
‘Yes,’ Harry said solemnly. ‘I suppose he is a bit little yet, isn’t he? He’s like our Phil. Does Lewis cry much? Phil’s always crying. Mummy says he’s a whiny baby. Is Lewis walking yet?’
On and on the little boy chattered, the questions tumbling out, but Emily answered them patiently. ‘No, we’re lucky, Lewis doesn’t cry much and he’s not quite walking yet, but he pulls himself up.’
At that point, Amy came out of the front door, drying her hands on a towel. ‘Come in, come in.’ Her smile was as warm as ever, but Emily thought she looked thinner and tired. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. ‘Are you staying for tea, Emily?’
‘A cup of tea would be lovely, but we’re due at Riversdale a little later.’ Emily forbore to say ‘for dinner’, not wishing to sound too grand to her sister-in-law.
For some reason, which Emily couldn’t quite understand, the visit to both the smithy and to her parents’ home was strained. After a cup of tea with Amy, Josh and their children they went next door to visit Emily’s parents, but Walter, in his chair by the fire, seemed ill-at-ease and her mother was tight-lipped, hardly able to bring herself to offer them refreshment.
‘I suppose you’ll want a cup of tea and cake to go with it?’ Martha’s offer was grudging and Emily said swiftly, ‘No, no, Mam. We’ve just had one with Josh and Amy.’
Martha sniffed and muttered, ‘As if they haven’t got enough mouths to feed.’
By the time they left, Emily couldn’t help but feel relief. As she kissed her father’s cheek, he grasped her hand and held onto it for a few moments and, although she knew that now he could speak again, he said nothing to her.
When they arrived home in Sheffield later that evening after dinner with Constance at Riversdale, Emily said, ‘What on earth do you think was wrong with my family? They all seemed – oh, I don’t know – odd, somehow.’
‘I wondered if there’d been a big row. You could’ve cut the atmosphere with one of our penknives.’
‘I’m used to my mother’s moods, but Dad seemed upset. That’s what worried me the most.’
‘Josh didn’t seem himself, I have to say.’
‘If it hadn’t been for Harry’s excited chatter, I’d have felt distinctly unwelcome.’
‘My mother made up for it though, didn’t she? You’d think no one else in the whole world had a grandson.’
‘Oh, they haven’t,’ Emily teased. ‘Believe me, they haven’t.’
In late September, the villagers of Ashford-in-the-Water were agog when the news finally reached them that Constance Trippet had married again.
‘And to the foreman of her late husband’s factory. Would you believe it?’
‘Has it been going on a while, d’you think?’
Shoulders were shrugged at the question, but there was one person, a stalwart of the village, who defended Constance. ‘Mrs Trippet’s a lady,’ Grace Partridge told anyone willing to listen. ‘She would never do anything untoward, and besides, her husband was little more than a vegetable for the past four or five years. And before that, well –’ she wriggled her shoulders – ‘we all know now what he was up to, don’t we? Producing an illegitimate son out of the woodwork and making the boy his heir when he fell out with young Thomas for a while. If you ask me,’ Grace didn’t care if they were asking her opinion or not, they were going to hear it anyway, ‘that poor woman has put up with a lot over the years. She’s been very forbearing. She deserves whatever happiness she can find, and if she can find it with George Bayes, then good luck to her, I say.’
And with those few, well-chosen words, Grace Partridge silenced the gossiping tongues. Constance was well liked and respected in the village. There was hardly a soul in the community that she hadn’t helped in one way or another at some time.
‘George Bayes is a good man,’ Josh said, as he shook Trip’s hand on their first visit home after the news had broken. ‘I’m sure they’ll be happy. Where are they going to live, d’you know? And is he giving up work at the factory?’
Trip laughed. ‘I don’t know anything yet, but we’re hoping to find out a little more this afternoon after we’ve had luncheon with you.’
Josh’s face clouded. ‘You’re welcome, of course, you know that, but it might not be quite what you’re used to. Things are tough at the moment. The candle-making business is dying, Trip, and I’m not sure what to do. I’ve asked about finding work on the local farms, but no one will take me on.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Mr Clark’s doing all right, but we can’t expect him to keep all of us. I’ve even tried my hand at blacksmithing, but I’m useless at it.’
‘Then we won’t stay—’
‘Oh, you must. Amy would be mortified if she thought I had breathed a word to you. Please don’t say anything to her or to my mam. They’re both very proud women.’ He sighed. ‘I catch me mam looking at me sometimes as if to say, you should have stayed in the city.’
Trip shook his head. ‘It’s no better there, Josh. Unemployment is still quite high. The papers say it’s about one million nationally and the north, with its industries, is harder hit than the south.’
Josh blew out his cheeks. ‘Then I wouldn’t have been any better there, then?’
‘No,’ Trip said firmly. ‘Believe me, you wouldn’t.’
At lunch, which the Ryans still called dinner, both Trip and Emily noticed the meagre portions of meat. They were all gathered around the table in Amy’s best parlour and Emily saw that both Amy and Martha went without meat. She said nothing and dared not even glance at Trip.
‘How are things in the city?’ Martha asked.
‘Difficult,’ Trip said. ‘And, sadly, I can see them getting worse before they get better. The decision to return to the gold standard, which has meant an overvaluation of Sterling, has made exports more expensive and therefore our coal and steel exports have become less competitive and consequently—’
‘Oh Trip,’ Emily cut in, trying desperately to steer the conversation away from such matters. ‘It’s way over my head.’
Trip laughed. ‘It wouldn’t be, if you were interested and set your mind to understanding it. You’re an intelligent woman, Emily.’
‘All I care about is having enough customers to keep my employees occupied so that I can pay them a decent living wage at the end of the week.’
‘But don’t you see . . . ?’
‘I understand what you mean, Trip,’ Josh said quietly. ‘And I expect we’re still in debt – as a nation – for the war.’
‘Exactly! And the export industries are talking about lowering workers’ wages in an effort to cut production costs.’
‘That could cause another strike, if they do,’ Bob murmured.
‘Well, I’m not lowering my girls’ wages,’ Emily said, firmly. ‘We’ll keep going somehow.’
‘I think the larger factories in the cutlery industry are turning to the little mesters and little missuses even more than before because they can’t afford to pay men to work full time. Placing work with outworkers is more economical.’
‘Work’s still coming to me,’ Bob Clark ventured. ‘Though I’ve noticed a slight drop off in business. I think some farmers are trying to do their own repairs instead of paying a blacksmith. I must admit, I’m finding it harder to cope in my advancing years.’ He smiled ruefully. He was still a very strong, active man, but his work was hard, physical graft. ‘Anyway, we’re managing.’
Martha sniffed. ‘Josh isn’t,’ she said bluntly. ‘His business is all but dead. He’ll have to find some other work soon.’ She glanced at Trip. ‘Could you find him something, Thomas? He is your brother-in-law now.’
Before Trip could answer, Josh’s head shot up and he exclaimed, ‘Mam! Don’t put Trip in such an awkward position. You’ve just heard what he said. Things are as bad there too. Living in the country, we can still get food direct from the farmers. City folk can’t do that.’
‘You wouldn’t really want to come back to the city, Josh, would you?’ Emily asked.
Amy was quiet, but her face was bleak. She didn’t want to lose her husband to the city for a second time. Now, she had three young children . . .
To her relief, Josh was adamant as he said, ‘No, I wouldn’t. I know you’ve taken to it, Em, but city life’s not for me and I certainly wouldn’t take my family there.’
Martha stood up and began to collect the plates, crashing them together with quick, angry movements. ‘Well, you’d better think of something soon, Josh, else we’ll all starve. Looks like I’m even going to lose my little cleaning job at Riversdale House now that Mrs Trippet – I mean, Mrs Bayes – has got herself married again. I expect they’ll be leaving. They won’t want to live there, will they?’ It was more of a statement than a question directed at Trip as she turned away and marched out of the room carrying the stack of dirty plates.