Hope - Lesley Pearse [40]
As yet no one had dared talk about tomorrow, next week or next month. They must surely all realize that the cottage would go, and once it had there would be no place they would gather as a family. Hope could see by Albert’s coldness that he wasn’t likely to suggest the gatehouse became the Renton meeting place. Matt and Amy only had one room in her parents’ farmhouse, so how could they extend an invitation?
James and Ruth would go back to Briargate, Toby and Alice to Bath. Joe and Henry would possibly stay at Mr Francis’s place. All in twos, except for her.
Almost everyone in the village, and many from the neighbouring ones too, turned out for the funeral, a mark of their respect for Silas and Meg Renton. Mr Francis, Mr Warren, Mr Carpenter and Mr Miles, all farmers Silas had worked for many, many times, were there with their wives. Frank and Dorothy Nichols were there with their two daughters, Gareth Peregrine, the Boxes, big Nigel with the red hair from the blacksmith’s, and Fred Humphreys. Bunches of Michaelmas daisies and chrysanthemums had been brought by everyone who grew flowers in their gardens, and Hope thought they were far more beautiful and meaningful than the hothouse roses and carnations sent by Sir William and Lady Harvey.
Nell, Ruth and Alice cried throughout the service. Even when Hope didn’t hear them, she sensed their shuddering shoulders and fingers clenched round sodden handkerchiefs. Her eyes prickled when Reverend Gosling spoke of how devoted Silas and Meg had been to each other, and that their children were a credit to their love and care. But she didn’t cry properly until her father’s coffin was lowered into the ground, beside Violet and Prudence’s small grave, and then her mother’s was put on top.
It wasn’t, as people said later, that she suddenly realized they were gone for good. She’d known that the minute her mother died. What made her sob was the knowledge that Meg gave up when she knew Silas was dead. She couldn’t live without him, not even for her children’s sake. She would rather be in the churchyard with him than back in the cottage watching her children grow up, marry and have children of their own. That seemed so selfish to Hope when she’d tried so hard to keep her alive; didn’t she realize that her youngest daughter still needed her?
‘You will come home with Albert and me,’ Nell murmured into Hope’s hair as she rocked her younger sister in her arms to comfort her.
They were all in the cottage garden, the family and a few neighbours. It was lucky the sun was so warm, for no one seemed to want to go inside. Toby and Alice would be leaving soon for the long walk back to Bath, and Mr Francis had offered Joe and Henry a room above his stables and a wage each if they would take over the work their father had always done.
‘Albert won’t want me there,’ Hope sobbed. She had seen him looking at her grimly several times since the funeral. He wouldn’t want anyone, not even a dog, cluttering up his extraordinarily tidy gatehouse.
‘Don’t be foolish,’ Nell said, stroking her hair. ‘Albert knows as well as anyone that you can’t stay here alone. I spoke to Lady Harvey yesterday and she said it would be fine, and she thought maybe you could help Cook out in the kitchen.’
Hope dried her eyes, not because she was satisfied she was really wanted, but because she knew there was no alternative. No one else had offered to take her in, and she loved Nell and liked the idea of helping Cook at Briargate. She would just have to put up with Albert.
Nell washed up the last of the cups and plates, wiped over the table and then sat down for a moment to rest. Albert was talking to Mr Merchant, Matt’s father-in-law, and he seemed to have forgotten he was anxious to get home just fifteen minutes ago.
Albert had no real idea how she felt. He seemed to be missing the part which enabled most people to understand another’s grief. She’d had more sympathy from Lady Harvey, Baines and Cook than she’d had from Albert. Only this morning he’d said, ‘You’ll feel better after the funeral.’ As if