Read Online Down an English Lane by Margaret Thornton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Margaret Thornton
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course I do… Don’t you?’
‘Well…yes, I like her well enough, I suppose. But it was such a surprise – a shock, really – when Bruce wrote and asked if he could bring her home with him. We didn’t even know he had a girlfriend, did we?’
‘I shouldn’t fret about it if I were you,’ said Archie. ‘He had to start sometime. And I dare say this girl will be the first of many. Now…shut up and go to sleep.’ He leaned across to kiss her cheek, then humped the bed covers over himself as he turned round again. ‘Goodnight, love. Have a good night’s rest.’
‘Goodnight, Archie…’ she replied. The first of many? she thought. Perhaps her husband was right. He usually was, about so many things. But this time Rebecca did not think so. She guessed that Christine Myerscough might well be around for quite some time, maybe for ever…
Chapter Four
T he Reverend Luke Fairchild always tried to have some time alone in his vestry before the start of a service; to collect his thoughts and run his eye over his sermon for a final time, and to have a few moments in silent prayer. This morning, more than usually, he felt that he needed the solitude, and so he had left the Rectory a few minutes earlier than he normally did. His church wardens, Thomas Allbright and Albert Carey, who had served him and the congregation faithfully for many years, would join him about ten minutes before the service began, but for the moment he was on his own.
There was little quietude to be found in the Rectory nowadays. Even when he closed his study door, insisting that he did not want to be disturbed, the needs of his family had to come first, whenever there was a problem or a dilemma. That was how it should be when he was at home. He was the headnow – he and Patience together, of course, because he regarded her in all family matters as equal with him – of what was quite a large family. And for that he had never ceased to give thanks to God for finally answering his and Patience’s prayers.
For many years following his appointment to the living of St Bartholomew’s church in Middlebeck, he and Patience had rattled around in the large Rectory like two peas in a jar. It had been designed, in Victorian times, for a large family such as was common in those days, not least amongst the clergy. But although he and Patience had prayed and longed for a child – and played their part enthusiastically, too, in what they hoped would lead to a conception – none had arrived. When the war started in 1939, they had both been more or less resigned to their childless state.
And then young Maisie Jackson had come to live with them. She had brought such happiness to them with her liveliness and warmth of personality, and also by her need to be loved and protected. Then, only a couple of months later, Audrey Dennison had come to live with them as well. She was a very different sort of child from Maisie in many ways; in her home background – a happy one, whereas Maisie’s had been quite appalling – and in her more retiring and nervous disposition. But she, too, had needed love and care in those early days of the war. When her parents, separately, but both in tragic circumstances, had died, Luke and Patience hadknown that they must adopt her. Now Audrey was their dearly loved daughter and a great blessing to them, as was Timothy, who they had taken to their hearts and into their lives some time later.
And then, in a miracle too great at first to be believed, there had arrived their very own son, John Septimus, born when Patience was forty years of age and Luke just a couple of years away from fifty. Luke knew that he had, indeed, been blessed beyond measure in his home, his lovely wife and his happy family life.
But this morning, on this last Sunday in August, as he contemplated the service he was about to conduct, to give thanks for the final victory of the war, Victory over Japan, Luke’s heart was heavy and his mind burdened with
‘Well…yes, I like her well enough, I suppose. But it was such a surprise – a shock, really – when Bruce wrote and asked if he could bring her home with him. We didn’t even know he had a girlfriend, did we?’
‘I shouldn’t fret about it if I were you,’ said Archie. ‘He had to start sometime. And I dare say this girl will be the first of many. Now…shut up and go to sleep.’ He leaned across to kiss her cheek, then humped the bed covers over himself as he turned round again. ‘Goodnight, love. Have a good night’s rest.’
‘Goodnight, Archie…’ she replied. The first of many? she thought. Perhaps her husband was right. He usually was, about so many things. But this time Rebecca did not think so. She guessed that Christine Myerscough might well be around for quite some time, maybe for ever…
Chapter Four
T he Reverend Luke Fairchild always tried to have some time alone in his vestry before the start of a service; to collect his thoughts and run his eye over his sermon for a final time, and to have a few moments in silent prayer. This morning, more than usually, he felt that he needed the solitude, and so he had left the Rectory a few minutes earlier than he normally did. His church wardens, Thomas Allbright and Albert Carey, who had served him and the congregation faithfully for many years, would join him about ten minutes before the service began, but for the moment he was on his own.
There was little quietude to be found in the Rectory nowadays. Even when he closed his study door, insisting that he did not want to be disturbed, the needs of his family had to come first, whenever there was a problem or a dilemma. That was how it should be when he was at home. He was the headnow – he and Patience together, of course, because he regarded her in all family matters as equal with him – of what was quite a large family. And for that he had never ceased to give thanks to God for finally answering his and Patience’s prayers.
For many years following his appointment to the living of St Bartholomew’s church in Middlebeck, he and Patience had rattled around in the large Rectory like two peas in a jar. It had been designed, in Victorian times, for a large family such as was common in those days, not least amongst the clergy. But although he and Patience had prayed and longed for a child – and played their part enthusiastically, too, in what they hoped would lead to a conception – none had arrived. When the war started in 1939, they had both been more or less resigned to their childless state.
And then young Maisie Jackson had come to live with them. She had brought such happiness to them with her liveliness and warmth of personality, and also by her need to be loved and protected. Then, only a couple of months later, Audrey Dennison had come to live with them as well. She was a very different sort of child from Maisie in many ways; in her home background – a happy one, whereas Maisie’s had been quite appalling – and in her more retiring and nervous disposition. But she, too, had needed love and care in those early days of the war. When her parents, separately, but both in tragic circumstances, had died, Luke and Patience hadknown that they must adopt her. Now Audrey was their dearly loved daughter and a great blessing to them, as was Timothy, who they had taken to their hearts and into their lives some time later.
And then, in a miracle too great at first to be believed, there had arrived their very own son, John Septimus, born when Patience was forty years of age and Luke just a couple of years away from fifty. Luke knew that he had, indeed, been blessed beyond measure in his home, his lovely wife and his happy family life.
But this morning, on this last Sunday in August, as he contemplated the service he was about to conduct, to give thanks for the final victory of the war, Victory over Japan, Luke’s heart was heavy and his mind burdened with
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