The Linden Walk

‘Comes with the job, I’m afraid. You’ll get used to it.’

‘Y-yes …’ The little train – the Holdenby Flyer, may God bless it, Lyn thought fervently – saved her the embarrassment of a reply. ‘It’s coming,’ she said. ‘Right on time.’

‘Usually is,’ Drew smiled, picking up her case, scanning the carriages as they slipped slowly past, pleased at the number of empty compartments. ‘The front of the train.’ He took her hand. ‘Plenty of room there.’

He helped her aboard then slammed the door firmly shut, pulling up the window.

‘There now, let me check. All present and correct. One case, one grip and one fiancée.’ Satisfied, he sat beside her, pulling her arm through his, smiling down at her.

‘That was nice, Drew.’ Lyn’s cheeks pinked. ‘You calling me your fiancée, I mean.’

‘Well, you are, aren’t you?’ he grinned. ‘Unless of course you’ve changed your mind.’

‘I am, and I haven’t. So let’s talk plans,’ she smiled tremulously as the whistle blew and the train jerked to a start. ‘Whatever you want is fine with me.’

‘Right! We’ll have the banns read starting next Sunday, then we’ll get married about the middle of October – that suit you?’

‘Just fine. But it wouldn’t suit Daisy nor her mother and it certainly wouldn’t suit your mother! White weddings take a lot of planning, don’t forget. Besides, I’ll have to give my parents in Kenya fair warning and plenty of time to get themselves organized and over here. And Daisy is insisting on a summer wedding. Bas and Gracie should be over by then and wanting their new baby christened. Your sister has got it all worked out. We had quite a long session last night.’

‘And?’ Drew quirked an eyebrow.

‘Well, I’m to ask Gracie to be one of the bridesmaids and if Tatty isn’t pregnant, she says, I ought to ask her – to wear the other dress, I mean. And I shall wear Daisy’s wedding dress. She offered and I couldn’t say no – it’s so beautiful. That was as far as we got, I’m afraid.’

‘Might Tatty be pregnant?’

‘No, of course not. But they do want a family so there’d be no point in waiting I was given to understand.’

‘And what else did Daiz come up with? Did she – er – mention how many children you and I will have?’

‘She didn’t get around to it, actually. Nor did I.’

‘But you want children, Lyn? I mean – everything seemed to happen so suddenly. You said you did after the christening but …’

‘Don’t worry, Drew Sutton. I want children, too. As many as the Good Lord thinks fit to send us. You and I were only-children. I’d like it if we had a couple, at least. Three would be nice.’

‘Be happy to oblige,’ he laughed, then all at once serious he cupped her face in his hands, saying softly, ‘You are sure, Lyn?’

‘I’m sure, Drew, but had you realized that not since you called for me at Foxgloves have I had so much as a kiss. Almost half an hour ago, that was!’

‘Again – happy to oblige.’

He tilted her chin and kissed her. Not with passion but with tenderness, Lyn thought; a reassuring, comforting, it’ll-be-all-right kiss and for the time being the niggling doubts left her.

‘I’ll call at Denniston when I get back – tell them about us. Bas and Gracie are leaving for Rochdale tomorrow to stay with Gracie’s folks for a week before they go back. They’re sailing, by the way. Better than flying, I suppose, all things considered. Mind, Mother will have been on the phone, spreading the news – nothing so certain. First she’ll be on to Daisy’s mother at Keeper’s and by the time she has finished ringing around, the entire Riding will know. There’ll be no need to put it in the Yorkshire Post.’

‘The announcement – it won’t go in just yet, will it?’

‘No. Not until you and I have talked about it and what we want putting in; we haven’t got a date yet, have we? But it’s like Nathan said last night. He doesn’t know what gets into normally well-balanced women when the words wedding or new baby are mentioned. He said it’ll be murder, the to-ing and fro-ing between Rowangarth and Keeper’s Cottage. Is it going to be a surprise to your folks, too? And before we can really announce it, I suppose I should ask your father’s permission, Lyn?’

‘Drew! Don’t be so stuffy.’ She gave his arm a little punch. ‘This is the middle of the twentieth century. Our generation has just fought a war, earned a bit of independence. It’ll be fine by them. Dad will be relieved that I’m off the shelf at last and Blod – Mother – will say, “Ooh, our Lyndis. There’s lovely …” I can just hear her. I’ll write to them, airmail, tonight.’

‘And you’ll tell them you’re very happy?’

‘I’ll tell them.’ Because she was. Crazily, ecstatically, unbelievably happy. So happy, in fact, that if the Fates got wind of it they’d be jealous, and that would never do. ‘And here’s York and we haven’t settled anything.’

‘We have, sweetheart. We’ve talked wedding dresses and bridesmaids and decided – almost – on a summer wedding. And three children.’

‘And that we’re both happy about us?’

‘Happy. A bit bewildered still, but happy, Lyn. Very happy. Don’t ever forget it, will you?’

THREE (#ulink_5693a978-2212-5f9c-b0e6-af112e3cd82a)

‘Who on earth have you been talking to, all this time? I’ve tried to ring you three times, and you’re always engaged!’ The back door of Keeper’s Cottage was opened without ceremony by a breathless Julia Sutton.

‘Sorry,’ Alice smiled, ‘but it isn’t every day our son gets engaged.’ Their son. She, who had reluctantly borne and birthed him, Julia who reared him as her own. Dwerryhouse. At two years old, Drew hadn’t been able to pronounce her name. Mrs Lady he had said instead and she had been Lady ever since. And, thank God, she had come to love him deeply. ‘Isn’t it going to be grand? Lyn wants to wear Daisy’s wedding dress. She’ll have to try it on, next time she’s over – see if it fits.’

‘It will, near as dammit. Who else have you phoned, Alice?’

‘We-e-ll, Daisy, of course. And I mentioned it to Winnie at the Exchange and I rang Home Farm to tell Ellen and I’ll be nipping out to tell Polly. Not that she won’t have heard, of course. I’m so thrilled. Can’t seem to settle to anything, this morning.’

‘Nor me. In the end, Nathan asked me if I’d mind getting off the line; that he’s got parishioners who might want to get through. “Why don’t you pop along to Keeper’s,” he said. “Have a good old natter with Alice.” All of a sudden, he’s taken on a hounded look, poor love; something to do with women and weddings, he said.’

‘Tom’s exactly the same. Men can be very peculiar. But let’s have a sit-down, and talk about things.’ Alice set the kettle to boil. ‘By the way, did you phone Denniston House?’

‘I did. Told them Drew would be calling when he’s back from York. He’ll be wanting to say goodbye to Bas and Gracie. They’re going to Gracie’s folks for a week, then off back to Kentucky.’

‘And a Christmas baby for them. So much to look forward to. Tatty’s wedding, as well. We’ve been lucky there, haven’t we?’

‘Drew and Tatty, and them not getting together, you mean?’

‘Exactly. It could have happened, Julia. I mean, Drew losing Kitty and Tatty losing her Tim. Drawn together, they could have been. What would we have done? How would we have told them?’

‘I don’t know, and that’s the honest truth. But it isn’t going to happen now, Alice. Remember when we told Drew that you were his real mother?’

‘I do. Our Daisy acted up like a right little madam. Flounced off in one of her tantrums. Couldn’t accept there’d been another man in my life.’

‘Two men, did she but know it. Elliot Sutton who raped you and my lovely brother, who married you and claimed the child for Rowangarth. We were more than lucky, considering the lies we told and –’

‘White lies, Julia. Heaven must have approved of what we did. Drew was born fair as all the other Rowangarth Suttons; not dark like him. No need for Drew ever to know about his getting. There’s few living, now, who know.’

‘Just you and Tom. And Nathan and me. No worries that it’s ever going to get out, now.’

‘And Giles. He knew. So badly wounded. Never have a son for Rowangarth he said to me one night, when I was nursing him. He was in pain, and couldn’t sleep and we were talking. And I told him that that was ironic, because I had a child inside me I didn’t want. A rape child. Natural, him being the gentleman he was, to offer to marry me. I was grateful to accept, and why not, when Tom was dead, or so they said. That was a terrible war. I’m glad Giles lived long enough to know I’d had a boy.’

‘Poor dear Giles. Survived his war wounds to die of that awful ’flu. That ’flu took more people than were killed in the war. But what has got into us, getting all nostalgic and raking up the past! Let’s be having that cuppa, and get down to the present and Drew’s wedding. June, wouldn’t you say?’

‘It’ll be up to the pair of them, but I reckon next June would be as good a time as any. And the white orchids will be flowering, don’t forget, for another Rowangarth bride.’