Read Online Abbeyford Remembered by Margaret Dickinson - Free Book Online Page A

“ Be quiet and he’ll go away.”
    After a few moments, unable to gain any response, the navvy staggered round to the rear of the cottage, where he found half a dozen hens in a run.
    â€œAha, lookee what we have here. You’ll mek me a foine dinner, I’m thinkin’,” and he began to chase the birds, which, feathers flying, ran hither and thither, squawking loudly.
    â€œCome here, blast you, you silly critters,” he muttered rolling from side to side, making feeble grasping movements.
    â€œWhat is it you’re doin’, Joseph me boy?”
    Three more navvies, hearing the commotion, had gravitated towards the noise and now stood, a little unsteadily, watching their friend.
    â€œTryin’ to catch dees stupid birds, so I am!”
    â€œWell, let us be helpin’ you.” And the three of them climbed into the chicken run. Drunk though the men were, the chickens were no match for four pairs of grasping hands and very soon all six birds lay in a twitching heap, their necks broken.
    â€œNow – der’s one each for us and two over – is dat right? We can sell them other two, I’m t’inkin’.”
    â€œAye an’ do you know what I’m t’inkin’, Joseph?”
    â€œNo, Michael, and what might dat be?”
    â€œIf dis ’ere cottage has chickens, maybe der’s others in the village too, eh? What d’you t’ink?”
    Joseph blinked, swaying on his feet.
    â€œI t’ink you could be right. Come on.”
    Between the four of them they killed fifty-four chickens that night and carried them off in sacks up the hill back to the dwelling-place.
    Another small group of navvies smashed the windows of the Monks Arms because the landlord refused to serve them any more ale. So they hurled stones at his windows and then burst into the bar and helped themselves. With even more drink inside them they rampaged down the one village street, tearing up plants from the gardens, damaging fences and gates and hurling stones through windows. Not until dawn began to stretch its pale fingers over the skyline did the navvies stagger back up the hill.
    The following afternoon Carrie waited in the abbey ruins for Jamie. She shivered and drew her tattered shawl more closely about her. It was a blustery, cool day with grey clouds scudding overhead.
    She saw him approach and ran to meet him as he tethered his horse and dismounted.
    â€œOh, Jamie – is it only yesterday since I saw you? It seems so long ago.” She flung herself against him and as he put his arms about her she could feel a fierceness in his embrace. She raised her head to look up at him. His eyes were dark with anger and his mouth was set in a hard line.
    â€œJamie, what is it? Something’s wrong, I know it.”
    Jamie tried to smile. “ ’Tis naught to do with you, sweetheart. It’s those – those railway workers.”
    Carrie stiffened and her heart missed a beat. Sure though she was now of Jamie’s love for her, still she had not been able to bring herself to tell him of her own connection with the railway. She had not dared to risk spoiling their idyllic happiness.
    â€œWhat – what has happened?”
    â€œThey descended on Abbeyford village last night, an unruly mob !” He clenched his teeth. “ They’ve caused damage to property and stolen hens and frightened the women and girls half out of their wits.”
    â€œWas – was anyone hurt?”
    He hesitated then said, “ One girl was raped.”
    Carrie groaned.
    â€œThe village men – those who are not involved with the railway themselves – are out for revenge. I can see trouble brewing. I’d like to get my hands on the men responsible for those – those drunken louts!”
    Carrie shuddered and wound her arms tightly about Jamie, burying her face against his chest. She felt him relax a little. She raised her head and looked up at him. He