‘She must be important to you. You must have said her name ninety times since I arrived an hour ago,’ Lucy commented, but didn’t bother turning round to acknowledge Adam speaking to her. She was angry, as the first words Adam had said were that his beloved Ivy was coming to visit, and he was still wittering on about her.
‘I’m sorry. I’m just glad that she’s agreed to visit. We can at last catch up with one another, and Ivy might be willing to hold a seance, like she used to, so that I can speak to my Mary, whose words were of such comfort to me. I realized Mary had not left my life, simply gone into another room, which wasn’t accessible to those of us who are still alive.’ Adam hung his head and went quiet.
‘She’s a medium? This Ivy is a medium? One of those folks who prey on people’s pain and grief, and tell folk exactly what they want to hear? Oh, I’ve no time of day for them. It’s all a load of bunkum, and you want nowt with dabbling into that sort of thing.’ Lucy shook her head and turned to look at Adam.
‘It’s not bunkum. Ivy told me things that only Mary and I knew. Ivy said she could see her, and that Mary was happy and I’m not to worry, because she was in a better world, with her parents and relations around her.’ Adam scowled.
‘She told you what you wanted to hear, that’s all. That’s what they all do. Con folk into paying them, for nowt,’ Lucy scoffed.
‘No, I’ll not have you saying that. Ivy is as straight as a die. She’s a good woman, and you’ll treat her right while she is under my roof.’ Adam looked across at Lucy. She was speaking out of turn about his friend, and he was not willing to put up with it.
‘Hmm! Well, if you believe in that sort of thing, you do, but you won’t convince me.’ It seemed to Lucy that Adam was smitten with Ivy and that, no matter what she thought, he’d not hear any wrong of her. ‘I’ll go out and weed the garden today. I need the fresh air and it’s a grand day – the sun’s shining and everything’s growing.’ Lucy made an excuse to get out of her master’s way. She was in no mood to be pleasant to him.
‘You can put me some bread and cheese out for my lunch. I’m going up the moor on Rosa. I’m going to make that mire safe – fence it off – now that I’ve got my strength back. It should have been done before, then I’d not have fallen in. But I suppose some good came of it, with all the Baxters being sentenced. I’d rather you gave the house a really good clean, instead of doing the gardening. I need you to make the empty bedroom ready for Ivy, and we need to stock up on food and baking before next Thursday. I’ll go into Keighley and get what we need, if you put together a menu for her stay. It needs to be a bit more refined than what you usually feed me,’ Adam said as he got up from his chair and made for the door, not noticing the thunderous look on Lucy’s face, as he left her standing in the kitchen after parcelling him his lunch of bread and cheese.
‘Refined’ – she’d give him bloody refined! What did he think she was? He’d never complained before about her cooking; in fact he’d relished it. This bloody woman, why on earth had she raised her head? Lucy looked around her and opened the front door, letting the sunshine flood into the house. She’d still go into the garden, where she could vent her wrath upon the weeds and check how the lettuce and radishes were growing. One of the meals for Miss High-and-Mighty could be a good ham salad, followed by rhubarb crumble; the rhubarb was growing pink and strong in the corner of the garden, and was at its best at this time of year, and it cost nothing. Which was exactly how Lucy rated Ivy – not worth a lot of time and money – although she would have to be decent with her, if she meant so much to Adam, to keep her job. She’d bottom the house and get it all spick and span, just as he wanted it, and would keep her thoughts to herself, rather than fall out with Adam; and she’d keep her mouth closed, when it came to the precious Ivy Thwaite.
Lucy looked around her. The sun was shining and she’d nobody to answer to all day. She untied her apron strings and placed her apron on the back of the chair. The housework could wait, as there was plenty of time before Thursday. The sunny day was calling her and she’d rather be outside, with the sun shining down on her. The mood she felt herself in might lighten with a bit of sunshine on her back. Because Lucy knew herself: she was not fit to be talked to, the way she was feeling. It was jealousy pure and simple – jealousy of a woman she had not even met yet, and of a friendship that she feared would come between her feelings for Adam and his for her, if he had any.
The rows of purple-and-green sprouting beetroot plants had never been so clear of the weeds that surrounded them. The chickweed, which
