Remembrance Day Read Free Page A

Bartleys saved Gus’s life. You ought to be singing their praises, not punishing them. I told them you would be grateful,’ Guy argued. He always stood his ground, just like his father. What a fine soldier he would make one day, she thought, but she must be firm.
    ‘Sometimes, Guy, you overstep the mark…Over-familiarity with the lower orders breeds contempt and disobedience. Playing cricket against the village is one thing, but cavorting in front of locals is another. It is your duty to set an example, not make promises on my behalf. Ask Arkie to have tea sent up here. I’ll sit and watch over Angus, just in case…He really ought to be in hospital.’
    ‘I wish Father was here. He promised to be home for the hols.’
    ‘The army needs him. There’s talk of war with Germany. The situation demands all the staff officers to be making contingency plans. We mustn’t worry him now about such folly. Run along. Have a warm bath, you’re shivering in that indecent bathing suit.’
    Hester needed to be alone. Angus looked so fragile and battered, poor darling. Nothing must harm either of her precious sons, her golden eggs. They were so late coming into her life. At nearly forty she had feared she was barren and then they came together one terrible night when all her dignity was abandoned in the struggle to bring theminto the world. Guy Arthur Charles came first, all of a rush, and then the shock when another baby emerged, Garth Angus Charles, taking his time. Two for the pain of one, her beautiful boys, alike in every way. In one night her world was changed for ever and she loved them both with a devotion that knew no bounds.
    Looking round at the mess in Angus’s bedroom—cricket bats and fishing rods, horse crops, rugby shoes, clothes scattered on the floor—she sighed. He was such an energetic boy, full of pranks and madcap ideas. He was a skilled horseman, winning rosettes to prove his competitive spirit. On the wall were stag antlers, model ships and biplanes, and a map tracing Colonel Charles’s campaigns in South Africa. The twins were as bad as each other when they were home. At school it was another matter. They were put in different houses, beaten for any misdemeanours but excelled on the sports field and in the Officers’ Training Corps.
    It was always so quiet when they were away. That was why she’d begged Charles to let her buy Waterloo House, so she could be close for their exeats and any public concerts at Sharland School, the great stone fortress that stood on the edge of the moor.
    To think that life could have ended for one of them this beautiful afternoon didn’t bear thinking about. Horse treks and camping out over the Dales would be out of bounds for the rest of the holidays after this escapade. Now she must be gracious and receive their rescuers, but of all the children to save Angus why did it have to be the blacksmith’s brood of non-conformists?
    Only last week she was in her carriage doing a round of charitable visiting when she chanced to see the blacksmith striding along the cobbled narrow street in his leatherapron, shirtsleeves rolled up, showing muscled arms the colour of walnut oil. His black curly hair was far too long under his cap, more like a gypsy’s locks. She looked down at him from her carriage, expecting him to doff his cap in deference but he swaggered on as if she was nobody of consequence.
    ‘Stop the carriage!’ she ordered Beaven. ‘Go and ask that man why he has been so rude.’
    ‘Yes, ma’am,’ said her coachman, pulling up until Bartley was alongside them.‘Hey,you, why didn’t you pay the usual respect to her ladyship?’
    ‘Oh, aye,’ said Asa Bartley, looking straight at her with those coal-black eyes. ‘You tell your mistress I bows to no man but my Maker, and that’s a fact!’
    Hester flushed at such insolence and demanded that Beaven drive on. The blacksmith might own his business but he rented his cottage from the Waterloo estate. How dare he be