downstairs she could hear Bellamy and Aunt Phoebe talking in the drawing room. She appeared at the door and smiled affably at him.
‘Hello, Bellamy. I just need to put on my mantle and bonnet.’
‘If I were you, I’d put on that scarf you’ve knitted,’ Aunt Phoebe advised. ‘And take my muff as well. It’s chilly today.’
‘All right, Aunt.’
Poppy returned after a few minutes, with Dolly behind her.
Bellamy stood up and smiled at Poppy. ‘My cart is outside,’ he said, denigrating his gig.
‘What time do you intend getting back home?’ Aunt Phoebe asked, accompanying them to the front door.
‘What time d’you want me to be back, Aunt Phoebe?’ Poppy asked.
‘In time for you to have tea before we go to church. No doubt by then you’ll be starving.’
‘I’ll make sure we’re back by then, Aunt,’ Bellamy said.
He helped Poppy into the gig before clambering in himself. ‘I’m glad the weather’s so fine today, Poppy. A beautiful sunny day, even if it is verging a bit on the chilly side. D’you think you’ll be warm enough?’
She nodded reassuringly. ‘I reckon so.’
‘Good.’ He clicked to the horse and flicked the reins and they both turned to wave to Aunt Phoebe.
‘How far is it to the Clent Hills, Bellamy?’
‘About six miles, I think.’ He turned onto the Rowley Road and headed up hill. ‘It’ll take us an hour. Maybe less. We’ll have plenty of time for a walk. I asked my father the best way of getting there and he advised me to go via the Lye Waste.’
She shuffled herself comfortable in the seat. ‘Does your father know you’re seeing me then?’
‘Oh yes.’ He turned to feast his eyes again on her face. ‘He sends his regards.’
‘That’s kind of him.’
At the top of the hill he avoided looking in the direction of the toll house on the right, but flicked the reins again. The horse broke into a trot and soon they were passing Tansley House.
‘I always think your house looks so grand,’ Poppy commented.
‘Mausoleum, Poppy. It’s an absolute mausoleum. Costs my father a fortune to run and maintain. We need our own railway just to ferry in coal for the fires.’
‘I bet you could build one.’
‘A railway? Maybe we should build a spur from one of the Earl of Dudley’s pits.’ He chuckled at the thought. ‘I must suggest it to Father.’
‘Well, Aunt Phoebe tells me that’s what you Crawfords do. You’re civil engineering contractors, she says. So, has the family firm ever built any railways?’
‘A section here and there. But the mania for building new railways is over now. The best days are gone. There’s no money for it any more and even less enthusiasm. We’ve been mostly concerned with other public works, like reservoirs, inclined planes, sewers and docks. We tendered for work on the Oxford, Worcester and Wolverhampton, but my father’s a shrewd old devil, you know. He put in a price that he knew they wouldn’t accept. Said they were bound to get into financial straits, in which case he might not get paid. It looks as if he might have been right. They shut up shop for lack of money and the damned line ain’t finished. Of course, they’re looking to the Great Western to bail them out, but we hear rumblings as well that Rufford’s, the bank that supports them, is a bit suspect. Despite all that, it seems they can’t agree on far too many points of policy.’
‘It’s a shame,’ Poppy said from the heart.
‘A shame it is, and no question … But enough of this talk of business. I’d hoped for lighter conversation … I want to know about you, Poppy. Tell me about your family. Tell me how you came to be Aunt Phoebe’s companion. You suddenly appear in our lives like a wondrous vision.’
Poppy pondered what she should tell him. She didn’t want to tell him any lies because it was against her nature. Yet she could hardly tell him the truth, for the truth was too demeaning and would almost certainly mean being shunned in future. So she decided to stall until she could think of how to answer.
‘How is your younger sister?’
‘Well, I believe. She writes regularly from school.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘Oh, she’s an absolute pest when she’s home. Let’s not discuss her.’
Poppy laughed at that. But it was not Elizabeth she was interested in anyway. ‘Have you heard from your brother Robert since?’
‘Nothing since. But they say no news is good news. I mean bad news travels fast, don’t it?’
‘How’s his fiancée taken his going away?’
‘Ain’t seen her, Poppy. She’s been to Tansley House since Robert went to Brazil, I believe, but not when I’ve been there. Anyway, you were about to tell me all about you and your family.’
‘My family, yes … My family are in railway building …’ She looked up at him and beamed, defying the apprehension she felt inside if Bellamy’s questioning became too intense.
He hooted. ‘Well … now there’s a coincidence if ever I heard one! Fancy that. Nobody said, you know. What are they working on now?’
‘To tell the truth I’m not sure. My father had to go away to work … last summer … He met with an accident and died. Now—’
‘Good Lord!’ he interjected. ‘That’s damned bad luck. You lost your father, eh? My condolences, Poppy. I wouldn’t have mentioned it … I often worry about my father meeting with an accident on one of the sites, you know. He wants to be involved in everything. He’s always on site with the men. Can’t keep him away. I think he’s got a secret yearning for the muck and the mud, and the men’s swearing. It reminds him of his youth, I suppose. Sounds as if your father was the same.’
Poppy smiled angelically. She had told Bellamy no lie. But to her surprise he had likened what she’d told him to his own family’s situation. Well, there seemed little sense in allowing him to think otherwise.
‘And what about your mother?’
‘My mother thought it would be a good idea if I went away … to see a bit more of the world …’ To see why the rest of the world fared better might have been nearer the truth. ‘I was told about this lady … So I presented myself at her door one day … She turned out to be Aunt Phoebe.’
‘Well, I’m blessed. Just think. If you hadn’t, you and I might never have met. Aunt Phoebe deserves to be beatified. Anyway, it’s so obvious she thinks the world of you, Poppy.’
‘I think the world of her. She’s been so good to me …’
They fell
