The younger woman, the girls’ mother, Robin guessed, although no one had said, had come downstairs for supper and sat down at the table without a word to anyone. Her fair hair was tousled as if she had been asleep in bed and she yawned a lot. After she had drunk her first cup of tea and eaten a slice of pork pie, a portion of meat and a whole egg, she suddenly noticed Robin.
‘Who’s this?’ She looked at Peggy.
‘This is Robin Jackson,’ Peggy said. ‘He’s staying wi’ us for tonight and tomorrow we’ll try to find his mother.’
‘So why’s he staying wi’ us? Do we know him?’
‘Aye, I just said,’ Peggy said evenly. ‘He’s Robin Jackson.’
‘Well, where’s he from?’
‘From down London way.’ Peggy poured herself more tea, then picked up the cake stand and offered it round the table before taking a slice for herself.
‘London! So what’s he doing here, eating our victuals?’
Peggy fixed her with a stare. ‘I invited him, that’s what. This happens to be my house, Susan, and I don’t have to ask anyone’s permission to invite somebody to eat at my table.’
Robin saw the curl on the younger woman’s lips and felt the animosity as she looked his way. Then she gave a shrug and took a second slice of cake and a portion of cheese. ‘I’ll suffer for this later,’ she mumbled.
‘I’m going to marry him when I’m old enough,’ Molly piped up for her mother’s benefit.
‘Can we have that in writing?’ her mother laughed. ‘It might be ’onny chance you get, girl.’
‘But I might want to marry him as well,’ Louisa said in a small voice. ‘I saw him first, and said hello.’
Robin’s ears were burning with embarrassment and his face flamed when Louisa’s mother said, ‘I might have known you’d have a hand in it. Interfering little busybody.’ She lifted a finger and shook it at Louisa, who had opened her mouth to speak. ‘Just watch it, or you’ll have ’hairbrush to your backside.’
‘It wasn’t her idea,’ Robin broke in in Louisa’s defence. ‘It was mine. I climbed into the wagon with everybody because we were having such fun.’
‘Who asked you?’ Susan glared at him. ‘Just mind your own business, whoever you are.’
Peggy got up from the table. ‘Come on, bairns. If you’re finished you can leave ’table and go and play for half an hour or read your spelling books ready for school tomorrow. Molly, m’love, you can help me clear ’table and if you’re ever so good you can help me wash up.’
‘I haven’t finished,’ Susan interrupted. ‘Is there any more tea?’
‘Kettle’s still simmering,’ Peggy advised her. ‘And I’ve never known pregnancy stop any woman from mekkin’ a pot o’ tea, so help yourself if ’pot’s empty.’
The girls got down from the table and chorused their thanks to their granny, all but Emma who moved up to sit by her mother’s side. Louisa indicated to Robin to follow her towards the hall door and young Rosie danced ahead of them.
‘Thank you very much, Mrs – erm, what should I call you?’ Robin asked his hostess.
‘I’m Mrs Robinson.’ She looked at him and then said, ‘But as there are two Mrs Robinsons now, you can call me Granny Robinson if you like.’
He took a deep breath and gave a big grin. So Louisa’s father had the same name as his. What a good thing he’d changed his own to Jackson.
‘I’d like that very much,’ he said at last, and felt a warm feeling inside that had nothing to do with the amount of food he’d consumed. ‘Thank you for the lovely supper, Granny Robinson. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten.’
She smiled back at him. ‘You’re very welcome I’m sure, Master Robin. Very welcome indeed.’
CHAPTER SIX
When Robin woke the next morning the first sound he heard was someone riddling the coals in the range and then tipping the coal hod to add more. He put his nose above the blanket and saw it was Jack Robinson busy with the tasks, so he put his head down again and feigned sleep.
Above the rattle of the coals and the gushing of water being pumped into the kettle in the scullery, he could also hear the birds twittering again and marvelled at the way they were so chirpy in a morning in spite of its still being dark. From where he was lying, quite close to the window – but not so close that there would be a draught, for Granny Robinson had been most particular about that – he could see from below the curtain that there was no light at all, but only greyness.
He had slept very well, soothed by the sound of voices by the fireside, Susan’s rather shrill one and the rumble of Jack’s replies, but Susan was the first of the adults to go to bed and then he heard only the warmer tones of Granny Robinson and an occasional gruffness from Aaron and then Jack saying, ‘Well, I haven’t ’time to go traipsing over to Hedon. Mebbe somebody saw him come wi’ us and will tell his ma where he is. It’ll be up to her to look for him, not us to look for her.’
But then he had fallen asleep and hadn’t wakened until he’d heard Jack at the range, and now he was drifting off again, lulled into a half sleeping, half waking torpor until he heard someone mention his name.
‘Little lad has no worries, that’s clear to see. He’s settled in very comfortably.’ It was Aaron speaking. ‘But he can’t stop wi’out us asking about him. We have to know where he’s come from. You’ll have to tek ’trap and drive over to Hedon, Mother, and ask around.’
‘Aye, I suppose so,’ he heard Granny Robinson answer. ‘We’ll
