Talking about it brought more tears to her eyes.
‘It was when he started hitting me that I left. I couldn’t risk him hurting Anthony. I took all the money in his wallet one night when he was drunk and I came here to live with my aunties, as I told you. That was no lie. They helped me with Anthony so that I could work. The job doesn’t bring in much money, but it pays the rent.’
‘How did he find you?’
‘He must have found a letter from my aunt. I left in such a hurry, I took very little with me. One day when I was picking up Anthony, he was waiting for me and followed me here. He’s been turning up and demanding to see me ever since. I don’t know what to do. I know it’s the drink that makes him violent. I don’t ever know when he’s going to turn up.
‘So, now you know what you’re getting involved with, Ronnie. Are you sure about this?’ she asked.
‘I’m sure,’ Ronnie replied. ‘We’ll find a way to get you your divorce.’
‘I do hope you’re right,’ Sarah said. ‘I don’t want you to be in danger.’
Ronnie took Sarah in his arms. ‘I’ll do anything I can to help you, Sarah,’ he said.
Chapter 9
December 1937
As the Yuletide season got closer, so Ronnie began to think of his usual visit home to Micklewell.
‘I’m going to worry about you over Christmas, Sarah,’ Ronnie said.
‘I told you, I’m not going to be on my own. We’re going to my aunties’ for Christmas lunch. Then, on Boxing Day, the minister at St Mary’s is putting on a Christmas entertainment for families. I think it’s going to be a little play that the Sunday School children are going to perform, a few games and tea and cake. It will be fun. If the old stove in the church hall doesn’t decide to stop working, that is!’ Sarah said.
‘I wish you and Anthony could come with me’ Ronnie replied. ‘But perhaps the time isn’t right just yet. I do so want you to meet my family, though. When the festive season is over, I will take you to Micklewell and I know they will welcome you with open arms.’
‘That would be very nice,’ Sarah said. ‘Now, shouldn’t you be off? You will have things to do before you leave tomorrow.’
Ronnie produced two parcels that he had brought with him in his saddlebags and laid them beneath the very small Christmas tree that he had helped Sarah and Antony erect and decorate.
‘Not to be opened before Christmas morning,’ he said to Anthony with a wink. He kissed Sarah, hugged Anthony and left.
‘Merry Christmas,’ he called as he stood at the door. ‘And a Happy New Year.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ Sarah and Anthony replied.
* * *
Ronnie smiled to himself as he prepared to leave the School House. He felt happier now that he knew Sarah and Anthony were joining others over the two days of Christmas and he was ready to join the rest of his family, across the water. He knew that the moment he set foot inside number 2 Mead Cottages, he would be swept up in the hurly-burly of the household and every time he stepped outside the door again, into the village street, he would be besieged with questions about himself, Dot, Tilly, Amelia and life on the Isle of Wight. Micklewell was a special place. The villagers wanted to know everything that was going on in other people’s lives, but in a kind way, and they always made him feel as if he had never left. They had a genuine interest in his progress in life. He was looking forward to his visit.
School had finished for the term and Dot had gone to be with William. Amelia was travelling to London to spend Christmas with her sister’s family and Tilly wouldn’t be leaving Ryde for another day or two because she had to work right up until Christmas Eve. Ronnie was the last one left in the School House and it felt very strange to be alone, but it wouldn’t be for long. They would soon all be crammed into 2 Mead Cottages for a very noisy but cheery Christmas Day. They would all sit around the scrubbed kitchen table tucking into turkey with all the trimmings, the younger members of the family poised on wooden crates as there were never enough chairs.
Ronnie packed his bags, looked around to make sure he’d left everything tidy and prepared to leave. The schoolhouse in Whippingham would be shut up for a while, pipes already lagged against the cold and the grate laid for the fire to be lit as soon as they all returned. It felt to Ronnie, when he closed the door and turned the key, like a new phase of their lives was about to start. The new year would bring new joys and challenges too, no doubt, but he had the feeling that those challenges would be faced head on, whatever they might be.
Chapter 10
It was early evening on Christmas Eve, when Tilly arrived at the top of Frog Lane. She walked through the gently falling snowflakes. Several of them landed on her eyelashes and she blinked them away. She looked down at her gloved hand, which was turning white, lifted her glove to her lips and sucked the chilled coating with a smile. Memories of Christmases past flowed into her mind. The collecting of the boughs of holly and the scrambling up naked lime trees to retrieve sprigs of mistletoe, the stirring of the cake mix and the licking of the spoon, the crackle of chestnuts as their shells burst in the oven and the smell of spices as the mulled cider warmed in the saucepan on the stove.
The family had been gathering for Christmas in Micklewell for as long as she could remember. Now that she and Ronnie were grown and both learning a profession, their visits to the family home had become shorter. So, she was determined to make the most of her time here before she and Ronnie must return to their work.
Tilly listened to her footsteps beating a rhythm of gentle scrunching through the newly laid carpet of white. There was not a soul about. The sky was darkening over the Down, but her eyes adjusted to the fading light and she could just pick out the shapes of sheep trying to huddle together in the lee of a wall. She stopped and stood perfectly still, letting the dusk envelop her.Why is it that snow and silence arrive simultaneously, she thought,folding themselves together in a blanket across the fields and lighting the wintry trees with a mystical glow. She let the quietude seep into her as she walked down the snow-covered lane towards her waiting family and searched the road ahead of her for the glimmer of light announcing the first house in the village. She watched her warm breath bloom in front of her andfloat away to join the gathering starlings heading towards their night-time roost. Their sharp cries disturbing the peace.
As she looked upwards to track the birds’ progress across the darkening sky, she saw the moon rising through the trees, its pale face watching the lone figure moving through the frosty landscape. An owl hooted as if announcing her arrival. Another answered from across the fields, guiding her way, calling her home. She heard the watercress stream trickling beside her. She faintly saw the disturbed edges of the snow-covered bank, leaving fingers of fringed sculpture pointing her in the direction of Mead Cottages. As she reached the place where the stream flowed under the path, she paused and smiled at the warm glow from the windows of 2 Mead Cottages. Behind those windows were laughter and a warm welcome, and a fire to thaw her frozen toes. ‘Home,’ she whispered.
When Tilly opened the door of 2 Mead Cottages, the hurly-burly began. The hugging and kissing, and cries of ‘How was your journey?’, ‘Draw up a chair to the fire’, ‘Make us a hot toddy, Albert. You make the best ones’, ‘What have you been up to?’, ‘How’s Dot and Amelia?’, ‘Tell us about Sarah, Ronnie. When are we going to meet her?’ There wasn’t a moment when quiet settled over the room for as soon as one set of questions had been answered, so another lot were fired at them.
‘We don’t have to tell everything at once,’ Ronnie said. ‘Let us take a breath.’
