Lucy knew better than to say anything to her father when he returned from The Fleece the worse for drink. Usually he was a quiet soul, but after one too many his mood changed and he was best left alone. She watched through the kitchen window as he staggered into the flay-pit yard, mumbling and cursing at the state of things around him, before entering the house.
‘Get yourself up those stairs and make yourself scarce. Take Susie and the lads with you. It’s best they don’t see or hear their father in this state,’ Dorothy whispered to Lucy and the rest of her family, as Bill opened the kitchen door wide and swore loudly.
‘Well, I’m bloody well back to this stinking hole. Not that one of you will care.’ He slurred his words and staggered across the polished flagstone kitchen floor, then slumped down in his usual chair.
‘Hold your noise, Bill. You’ll frighten the children,’ Dorothy lectured, staring at the man who had walked out of her house early that morning looking quite respectable, and comparing him now with the dribbling, swearing wreck he had come back as.
‘Aye, we mustn’t upset the children – not the children. They are precious, unlike me,’ Bill growled.
‘Oh, hold your noise, and stop showing this self-pity. Did you see him – did you tell that Brooksbank our Lucy will not be working for him any more?’ Dorothy shook Bill by the shoulder as he sprawled in front of her, wanting to sleep now that he was home and in front of his own hearth.
Lucy listened from the safety of the bend in the stairs, while the rest of her family stayed in their rooms. It was only once in a blue moon that their father was in this state, but they knew better than to get in his way. She held her breath as he mumbled and swore under his breath, not coherent enough for either her or her mother to hear.
‘Bill, tell me again! What did he say?’ Dorothy shook his shoulder.
‘Bloody well leave me be, woman,’ Bill growled. ‘I said: he said he loved Lucy, and the stupid bastard wants to marry her! Now bugger off, or get me to my bed.’ Bill dropped his head, splayed out his legs and closed his eyes; all he wanted was some peace. He’d tell his nagging wife the rest of the tale in the morning, when his head was clearer and the drink had stopped him feeling so sleepy.
Dorothy stood back and looked at her sozzled husband. She was not going to get any more sense out of him tonight. She looked down at him and whispered to herself, ‘He wants to marry our Lucy’ and put her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Adam Brooksbank thought that much of her daughter that he wanted to marry her! Now what was she going to do? She hadn’t expected that; she thought it had just been a fascination on Lucy’s part. This so-called love affair was more serious than she had thought, and the man should have more sense than to lust after a young slip of a girl. There was one thing for sure: Lucy would not be working for him in the morning, not while she had a breath in her body.
Lucy sat back on the stairs and gasped, as she tried to hold back tears of joy this time. She couldn’t believe that Adam had said that to her father. That he had declared his love for her, and had even said he had designs on marriage. She too knew that their love was true, but marriage! That was a huge show of Adam’s devotion to her and she hadn’t expected it so soon. Even though in her dreams she had whispered of being Mrs Adam Brooksbank, she had not thought it possible, for she was just his maid and, until the last day or two, they had not dared show their love for one another.
She listened as her father snored in front of the fire and her mother sat in her rocking chair, the sound of the runners gently hitting the stone floor, as she no doubt pondered the news that Bill had brought home with him. In the morning Lucy would be told by her mother what her thoughts on the subject were, and that would determine whether she could go to Black Moss to work, and to face Adam. Until then she would go to her bed, warm and content in the knowledge that he did love her, and that his intentions were honourable. And if she was allowed to marry Adam, she would be the happiest woman in the world.
25
Bill had eventually got himself to bed in the early hours of the morning, lying down next to Dorothy, who was still awake and fretting.
‘Your feet are frozen and you smell like a brewery. I don’t know why you get into such a state,’ Dorothy lectured him as he climbed out of bed to relieve himself in the chamberpot.
‘You know why – it’s that bloody lass of ours. Not now, let me get some proper sleep. It’ll soon be light and I’ll have to see to the fellas out in the yard. My head hurts enough, without you yattering on about things now.’
