The Boy With No Boots Part 11

He took the cold wooden box in both hands.

'You mustn't tip it over,' laughed Kate. 'You'll bruise its nose.'

'What's in there then, Kate?' asked Charlie who obviously knew her.

'A SALMON!' she whispered dramatically.

'Cor. Can I come to dinner then?' he joked.

'I'll ask my mother,' said Kate mischievously. 'And if she says no, I'll bring you down a slice with a knife and fork.'

Freddie was fascinated by the camaraderie she seemed to have with everyone on the station. He felt proud to be carrying the salmon in its box, proud to be walking beside her down the platform. She swanned along beside him, pausing once to make a fuss of a collie dog that ran to her squirming and wagging its tail.

'No, you can't have that,' she said as it sniffed hopefully at the salmon. 'That's not for dogs.'

'So now I smell of fish as well,' said Freddie, smiling at her. She smiled back and his heart almost stopped when her eyes looked up at him. He pointed at his Scammell lorry. 'That's my lorry over there. I've got a haulage business.'

'What your own?' she asked.

'That's right,' said Freddie.

'It's a beauty!' She paused to admire the lorry. 'I'll tell everyone, if you like, and get some business for you, Freddie. Where are you based?'

'Barcussy's Bakery top of the hill. My mother runs it, and I help her, since Dad died. I saved up for years to buy the lorry, and the day I was sixteen I took it all to the bank, and bought the lorry.'

'Well, good for you, and good luck!' said Kate brightly, and Polly raised her head from the hay net and whinnied at the sound of her voice. 'Here we are, this is our cart.'

Freddie slid the box into the back and went to stroke the pony's head.

'h.e.l.lo, Polly. Remember me?'

'She likes you,' said Kate, seeing Polly give Freddie a push with her soft nose.

'I like her. I took her home, that day,' said Freddie, 'and it was the first time I'd ever led a pony. She's lovely.'

'Ethie's coming,' said Kate, and her expression changed a little. 'She's my sister. So we'd better say goodbye now, Freddie.'

Ethie was still some distance away, the laden basket on her stout arm.

Freddie felt himself go cold all over. He didn't want his time with Kate to end so soon. There was so much he hadn't asked her, so much he hadn't said.

'Well not goodbye, Kate. I hope I'll see you again,' he said, and looked deeply into her brown eyes as she stood gazing up at him.

'Thank you, Freddie, for your help. I couldn't have managed without you,' Kate said warmly, and hesitated as if a thought from very deep within was surfacing. 'And thank you for staying with me and holding my hand that day.'

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him in the hollow of his cheek, very softly, like the b.u.t.terfly. He smelled her hair, and a whiff of lavender from her clothes, and her skirt brushed against his knees. Freddie was so stunned that he felt he could float away in a beautiful bubble. His body felt weightless and his mind bathed in her sweetness.

Ethie was bearing down on them with her basket.

'Cheerio for now Oriole Kate.' Freddie doffed his cap, took a last look into her eyes, and strode off without looking back, the feel of her kiss embossed on his cheek forever.

Chapter Thirteen.

THE 'BEE-LOUD GLADE'

'He's only a lorry driver, Kate,' said Ethie spitefully, 'I don't see why you've got to have the best picnic set for HIM.'

She slammed the light brown pigskin case on the kitchen table after Kate had persuaded her to reach it down from the top shelf.

'Thank you.' Kate smiled disarmingly at her sister. 'Wait 'til you've got a young man, Ethie. You won't care what job he does as long as he's kind and handsome like Freddie.'

'Well, I shan't fuss over any boy like you do.'

'You'll never get a husband with that att.i.tude, my girl,' said her mother, who was busy wringing sheets through an old wooden mangle, the water streaming out across the flagstone floor and into the yard.

'Who said anything about husbands?' retorted Ethie. 'I shall find a husband when I'm good and ready, and he won't be a lorry driver.'

'Nothing so common.' Sally winked at Kate and the two of them laughed.

Ethie's expression darkened with jealousy. 'Don't you laugh at me, Kate, just 'cause you're such a flirt, twirling your silly dress around and showing your legs. At least I've got some decency. If you get married before me I'll I'll never speak to you again.'

'She's jealous. Don't take any notice,' said Sally as Ethie slammed out of the kitchen and marched across the farmyard sending the chickens scattering. 'I don't know what gets into her. You go and have a lovely picnic with Freddie, with my blessing, Kate. You deserve a day off and so does he, I should think. You be happy while you can.'

Kate opened the picnic set which had a set of green Bakelite plates, four round mugs and a set of cutlery neatly fixed into the lid with thick leather straps and bra.s.s buckles. She sang as she made the cuc.u.mber sandwiches, cut some slices from the big pink ham which stood on a marble slab in the larder, and packed it all into the little green dishes. She cut a hunk of cheddar from the truckle, and picked some ripe tomatoes from the plant outside the sunny kitchen. A large saucepan stood on the range full of boiled milk. The cream had risen to the top and Kate took a spoon and skimmed off some of the rich yellow crust and put it in a jar. She added fresh scones and a small pot of homemade strawberry jam.

'There. Doesn't that look sumptuous?'

'Mmm I might change my mind and come with you,' teased Sally, and Kate laughed.

'Don't you dare!' she cried, rolling up the tartan picnic rug.

Sally looked at her shrewdly, thinking her vivacious daughter was too alluring for her age, especially in the new slinky dress which she'd made herself from a satiny cream fabric. It clung provocatively to her curvy body, and the neckline allowed a glimpse of her ample cleavage. As usual, Kate had trimmed it with red ribbons threaded around the sleeves and waist, tied with little bows. And she had a flashy pair of red shoes which Sally had bought for her June birthday.

'Seriously, dear you will be careful, won't you?' she said. 'You know what I mean, Kate.'

'Of course. Don't you worry at all, Mother. I can look after myself Kate smiled rea.s.suringly, and added, 'It's Ethie you need to worry about, not me.'

Sally nodded, staring out of the window at the sunlit yard where Ethie was heaving a straw bale into Daisy's stable. Then she saw a cloud of dust moving along the lane in the distance.

'Here comes Freddie. Bring him in for a cup of tea, if he wants it.'

Kate was already taking the picnic case and rug outside to the cart, which stood at the door with Polly harnessed into it. She was pawing the ground and tossing her head at bothersome flies. The cart was covered in sparrows busy pecking out grain from its cracks and corners. They flew up and settled inside the dome of honeysuckle that hung over the porch.

'Poor Polly. I should have tied you in the shade,' said Kate, giving the pony a cuddle. She picked some elder leaves and sprigs of lavender and stuck them in the pony's bridle. 'There, that'll keep the flies away. Now you be a good girl. We're going up the hills and there'll be a nice cool breeze for you there and we're going through the shady woods. You'll love it, Polly.'

Freddie was nervous as he slowed the lorry and approached Hilbegut Farm with care, knowing there were always ducks or sheep pottering about. It felt strange, having what Kate called 'a day off'. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a whole day without working, and he felt oddly furtive about it, especially as Annie had said proudly, 'I never had a day off in my life, and neither did your father, or his father before him.' Then she'd added, 'I don't know how I'm going to manage all day on my own, I hope I don't have to go out.'

The guilt felt heavy like a yoke across his shoulders, but a tingle was in his soul. A whole day out with Kate was more than he could have dreamed about. Freddie felt apprehensive too. A picnic, she'd said, and her eyes had lit up like stars, so he'd agreed to go. He didn't know what a picnic was, so he'd asked Herbie.

Herbie had snorted. 'Picnics!' he'd said. 'I think picnics are an abomination.'

'Why? What do you do on a picnic?'

'You have to eat your dinner sitting on some outlandish place by the river or up some hillside. It's always too flaming hot and you end up getting stung by a wasp or getting ants in your pants.'

Herbie had laughed his wheezy laugh then and disappeared into his dust-covered workshop. 'Oh yes picnics are an abomination.'

So Freddie was even more apprehensive. He hoped he wouldn't have to dance. Kate had told him she loved dancing, and it worried Freddie. He'd never danced in his life and didn't know how. He parked the Scammell lorry and rather awkwardly picked up the bouquet of six red roses. Annie had made it for him, cutting them from the garden and making a posy with some green leaves and a few white and purple Sweet Williams round the outside. She'd grumbled all the time, but Freddie could tell she was enjoying it as he watched her fold a cone of bread paper around the posy and tie it with a strip of ribbon.

He walked across to the cart holding the posy behind his back. Kate turned, and when he saw her radiant smile he felt welcome, and he felt life and energy flood into him.

'You're holding something, Freddie!' she cried and he whipped the bouquet out and gave it to her.

'Here you are. I brought you some roses.'

'Oooh Freddie!' Kate buried her face in the bouquet and breathed its fragrance. Then she looked up straight into his eyes. 'That's beautiful. Oh, aren't they beautiful? Thank you!'

Soon they were heading across the peat moors towards the blue-green ridge of the Polden Hills, with Polly trotting smartly along the narrow lane bordered by deep ditches and pollarded willows. Kate held the reins attentively and Freddie felt redundant, as if he suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. He wasn't used to being a pa.s.senger, and he could scarcely believe that he was sitting next to the beautiful girl who had chosen to go on a picnic with him. They weren't going fast, yet he felt he was flying through the diamond summer, the gra.s.s and the willow leaves sparkling and the sun flas.h.i.+ng over the brown water.

Kate began to sing, and Polly flicked her ears back to listen, and her hoof beats clip-clopped to the music. When she started on 'Danny Boy', Freddie found himself joining in, surprised by the new depth and texture of his voice, and surprised at the joy it gave him and the feeling of camaraderie with Kate.

But when they reached the woods at the foot of the hills, a different feeling lulled them into silence. Polly slowed to a walk as they entered the luminous green flickering twilight, the beeches, limes and oaks towering like the pillars of a temple. Cool and smelling sweetly of leaves and moss, the woods whispered around them, Polly's hoof beats were m.u.f.fled and the wheels of the cart crackled softly on the pink brown layer of calyx fallen from buds and blossom.

'Stop,' said Freddie suddenly.

Kate glanced at him, her startled eyes bright in the shadowy wood. She pulled Polly's reins gently and the pony stopped and stood motionless, listening, the cart creaking a little as the wheels became still.

'What is it?' Kate asked in a whisper.

'Listen!' said Freddie in an electrifying tone.

Kate froze and they were totally still together. They were in a wide glade surrounded by trees, the ground thickly covered in the stripy leaves and black seed-heads of dead bluebells. The sound of the glade filtered into Freddie's consciousness, stirring a distant memory. Above the clink of Polly's harness and the occasional chuck-chuck of the woodp.e.c.k.e.rs, was a humming, droning sound, at first high among the leaves, then close, then distant again. He looked deep into the woodland flora and saw the sunlight glisten on the zig-zagging bodies of dozens of bees. Honeybees, b.u.mbles and tiny hoverflies, and the bright gold of a queen hornet buzzing through the nettles and campion.

He looked at Kate and her face was like that of a startled child, listening to the unexpected symphony of silence.

'The bees,' whispered Freddie. 'Can you hear them?'

She nodded, her mouth open in surprise, and the sunlight glinted through the trees onto her cream silk dress and the gloss of her dark hair.

'Magic,' she whispered.

They listened together.

'It's the bee-loud glade,' whispered Freddie. 'From Innisfree.'

'What?'

'It's a poem I used to like.'

'Ooh tell me. I want to hear it.'

Freddie hesitated, embarra.s.sed. And as soon as the embarra.s.sment came, the magic disappeared and the bees melted away into the emerald light.

'Why are we whispering?' whispered Kate and her eyes danced with amus.e.m.e.nt. Polly gave a reverberating whinny, her harness jingled and the cart trembled and creaked. Kate broke into one of her peals of laughter. She picked up the reins again and Polly moved on, up the sloping lane through the shady wood.

'You're going to tell me that poem, when we're having our picnic,' Kate said bossily. 'I shan't let you have one of my cuc.u.mber sandwiches until you've told me.'

The spell was broken, but Freddie felt as if she had opened a door to a part of his mind that had lain forgotten for years. Hearing the bees, then the sound of Kate's bell-like laughter ringing through the woods, he felt a sense of restored happiness, a wild precious freedom he'd only experienced with Granny Barcussy.

Kate pulled Polly to a halt again.

'We must walk with her from here, Freddie,' she said. 'It's too steep for her to pull us as well.'

They plodded one on each side of Polly as the gradient increased and the ground wound upwards into the hills. At every bend the view across the Somerset Levels grew bluer and more panoramic, the tall trees gave way to dense hazel copses, gnarled hawthorn bushes and field maples festooned with bunches of pale green winged seeds. Freddie was quiet, feeling he wanted to drink deeply of the beauty around him, and Kate chattered like a bubbling stream. Only when he linked his index finger with hers in Polly's hot mane did she become quiet. The touch was charged with a gentle energy like the tip of a candle flame which had the potential to ignite into a hungry fire.

Finally they reached the top of the Poldens, the lane undulating into the distance. Kate steered Polly through a gap in the hedge. She unhitched her from the cart and tied her under the shade of an oak tree.

'Now for the best bit,' she said, her eyes s.h.i.+ning. 'Let's walk up the ridge and see the view. Then we'll choose a place for our picnic'

Before them stretched a ridge of hill against the sky. Freddie and Kate walked up towards it, winding their way through enormous anthills, patches of wild thyme, and domes of yellow trefoil.

'Tom Thumbs,' said Kate, picking one of the tiny pea-like flowers, ' and ORCHIDS! Look Freddie orchids. They smell divine.'

'b.u.t.terfly orchids,' said Freddie. 'That's what those white ones are and look, here's a bee orchid.' He bent to touch the complex flower which had a petal resembling a small b.u.mblebee.

Kate looked at him in surprise.

'Fancy you knowing that, Freddie.'

'I grew up in the country, not far from here,' he said. 'And I had a granny who taught me a lot about nature, and what she didn't teach me, I learned from watching. I know all these b.u.t.terflies.'

'I thought you only loved engines,' said Kate. 'You never told me.'

'Well,' Freddie considered what he wanted to say, and decided against it. He didn't want to risk upsetting her.

She looked up at him with a searching, caring gaze. 'Oh dear,' she said. 'I've done all the talking, haven't I? I know I'm a chatterbox but I do want to know about your life, and your hopes and dreams, Freddie oh, don't look so serious! Come on, I'll race you up to the ridge.' She kicked off her red shoes and ran, grinning wickedly back at him, her hair and dress flying.