Evelyne would be dismissed if he should hear so much as a whisper of an association between them.
Freda, now Mrs Ed Meadows, had tried to talk to Ed, tried to tell him that keeping the couple apart was asking for trouble. In his heart Ed knew she was right, but it was not only the cottage and his job that were at stake, there was the future champion’s career. ‘You got ter do what ‘is Lordship wants, Freda love, there’s no way round it.’
‘Ed, this is our home, Sir Charles won’t even know if they come and have a little supper with us now and then, just once a week, on her afternoon off…’
Ed huffed and puffed, but the suppers had become a regular weekly occurrence, and it was during these evenings that Evelyne had begun to teach Freedom to read and write.
They had been at The Grange almost four months, and tension lay close to the surface. Freda could feel it and it worried her. She hoped the four of them would discuss it today, it was Evelyne’s half-day off. Freda always cooked a roast on these occasions, and she had already begun laying the table. Ed paced up and down, unable to relax enough to put his carpet slippers on.
‘You know he’s ready ter fight, and we ain’t had a word from Sir Charles. He’s gettin’ hard ter handle, Freda, he knows ‘e’s ready an’ all. I just don’t know what else I can do …’
Evelyne arrived and tossed her coat aside. She sighed, and slumped into the fireside chair.
‘I’ve had enough of that Miss Balfour. The library’s nearly finished and she snoops after me, checking that I’ve done this or that. Well, she’ll not get me lugging buckets of coal up and down them stairs like the maids. She caught me in the drawing room, I was just looking at the paintings and she tells me I have no right to be in there. “I’m just looking at the paintings, Miss Balfour,” I tell her. “You’ve no right to look,” she says. Can you believe it, Freda? I said to her, “You don’t mind if I look out of my window and see the woods, the countryside, he don’t own them, does he?”’
Ed sighed, looking very glum. ‘They do, love, they do, far as the eye can see — all his Lordship’s land, he owns the lot.’
Evelyne turned to Ed with a furious look. ‘Well, he doesn’t own me!’
‘As long as you are in his employ, he does.’
Evelyne paced the tiny cottage while Freda finished setting the table. Ed flicked the curtains aside, wondering where Freedom was and hoping no one would see him coming to the cottage.
‘He’s late, he’s in a terrible mood, an’ all, can’t you talk to ‘im, Evie? Settle ‘im down, you know he’s taken to sleeping outside, made hisself some kind of tent? The lads don’t know what to make of him … where the hell is he? You got the time, Freda?’
Freda pointed to the clock, then checked to see how the chicken was cooking. Unlike everyone else, Freda was happy as a lark. The cottage, with its new curtains and loose covers, delighted her. ‘Oh, he’ll be here, he won’t miss seeing his Evie.’
Ed sighed. That was another thing, if Sir Charles found out about those two, there would be real trouble. He was up and down, jumpy as a ferret, worried someone would find out about these weekly meetings.
Evelyne took out Freedom’s exercise books, thumbed through the pages of looped, childish writing. ‘He won’t try half the time, you know. He should be able to read and write by now, but he won’t concentrate for more than a minute …’
Freda tittered, waved her wooden spoon. ‘His attention is too much on you, that’s why, darlink.’
Ed flicked the curtains again, muttered, and sat down opposite Evelyne.
She was shaking her head, still turning the pages. ‘Funny thing, he’s completely ambidextrous, and he’s no fool, got a wit about him, has me laughing …’
‘What? What you say ‘e’s got? Ambi what? Ill, you fink ‘e’s ill?’
With a giggle, Evelyne explained to Ed that she meant he could write with either hand, right or left.
‘Gawd ‘elp me, I been assumin’ he was a southpaw, but … Hey, wait ‘til I get him in action termorrow, ambidixious, that what you call it? Well, I never … look, Freda love, I’ll just go an’ see what ‘e’s doin’, all right, ducks?’
Freda raised her eyes to heaven. ‘Well, at least that cheered him up … Evie?’
Evelyne was staring into the fire, Freedom’s book still on her knee. Freda sat on the arm of her chair and hugged her.
‘What is it, darlink, you want to tell me?’
Evelyne kissed Freda’s hand. ‘I’m thinking of leaving, Freda, I feel as if I’m being buried alive. There’s a whole world out there, and I want… I want…’
‘What, Evie? What, do you think is so special out there?’
Confused, frustrated, Evelyne bit her lip. ‘I won’t know unless I try, but I want to teach, you know? And maybe I could get work that would fulfil me. Here, I’m just stifled.’
‘What about Freedom?’
Tears pricked Evelyne’s eyes, and she shook her head. ‘There’s no future for us, you must know that, and if Sir Charles knew we even saw each other … well, I don’t have to tell you what would happen.’
Freda kept quiet, knowing Evie had to talk, get it out of her system.
‘We meet on Sundays, oh, far away from this place, up in the woods. We walk, and he’s like a child. There’s a wild deer, and he calls to it and it comes over, nuzzles him and takes food from his hand. He knows the name of every flower, every creature, and sometimes it’s magic with him. He’s so gentle, caring, and those times I love him … He’s like no other man I’ve ever known, and yet, he won’t educate himself, he won’t better himself… I have to go away, Freda.’
Freda bent and kissed the top of Evelyne’s head as Ed burst into the cottage. ‘He’s gone, no sign of ‘im no place, the lads said they saw ‘im crossin’ the field at six, an’ ‘e had a bundle under ‘is arm. He’s run off … you better go back to the house, Evie, I’m going ter ‘ave ter get a search party out.’
‘Oh, Ed, don’t be stupid, he will be back! He will just have gone walking, you know the way he is — he knows it’s Evie’s supper with us.’
‘There’s a gypsy camp in the field behind the woods, I got to get to ‘im first. If the estate manager finds out, they’ll get the law on to ‘em. If they’re poachin’, there’ll be all hell let loose.’
Evelyne’s hands clenched in anger. ‘Ed, he came here of his own free will, he’ll not run out on you … for God’s sake don’t tell the game wardens, I’ll go and find him.’
Ed gripped her by the shoulders, tight. ‘You’ll do no such thing, ‘is Lordship’s back, arrived half an hour ago wiv a whole party of society people, I don’t want you gettin’ involved. My job’s on the line as it is, havin’ you meetin’ him here.’
It was Freda’s turn to confront Ed. ‘Ed, listen to her, she knows him better than anyone, he’ll be back, you know he will.’
‘Will he> Well, you go an’ tell that bitch, Miss Balfour. He took a bundle under his arm all right, two hams, a chicken and a turkey what they was preparin’ fer Sir Charles’ bleedin’ house guests. It ain’t me settin’ the gamekeepers on ‘im, but Miss bloody Balfour.’
Evelyne grabbed her coat and was halfway to the door.
‘Evie, darlin’, I’m sorry, don’t get me wrong, I trust him, Gawd ‘elp me, I love the lad, but … I been worried sick these last few weeks. I knew somethin’ was brewin’, I didn’t mean to sound off at you, you an’ him are welcome here any time.’
Evelyne gave him a small smile, then hurried back to The Grange. From her tiny window high in the roof she could see the flare of torches as the gamekeepers prepared to search the woods. She was saddened by Freedom’s foolishness, but at the same time it cemented her decision. She would have to leave.
The camp-fire was lit, piled high with logs stolen from The Grange’s wood-house. There were only four wagons, belonging to travellers on their way back from the Ascot races. Sitting in a semicircle around the fire, they ate the food Freedom had brought. There was beer and Jesse had two bottles of whisky. They were all in good humour, and one of the men took out his fiddle and began to play. Strung up on one of the wagons were rabbits, poached from the estate.
Jesse was wearing a new, dark pinstriped suit, and he was proud of it, flaunting his waistcoat, amusing them all as he clicked his heels and danced to the fiddle. There were gold rings on his fingers, and his heavy earring was of gold. He clapped his hands, and his whiter-than-white teeth gleamed in the firelight. ‘Will you rokka Romany, Freedom? Eh, ehe heyup yup?’
