The Boy with No Boots (16 page)

‘Well – I’ve never seen the sea,’ said Freddie, captivated by the way Kate talked with such fluency.

‘Haven’t you? Oh I expect you will one day – and you’ll love it. It SPARKLES like DIAMONDS.’

‘Sparkles like diamonds!’ repeated Freddie, and he found himself smiling at the thought. ‘I’d like to see that.’

He lifted the truckle of cheese onto his shoulder, and crooked his arm around it.

‘You are strong,’ said Kate. She took the trolley and walked beside him, talking all the time in her chirruping voice. ‘Perhaps you can help me unload something from the train
as well. If you wouldn’t mind. It’s a huge salmon and it’s in a box filled with ice.’

‘A salmon!’

‘Yes. My Uncle Don has got a set of putchers on the River Severn. It’s tidal, you see. And the fish swim up with the tide and they get stuck in the putchers which are like long
pointed baskets and when the tide goes down you can paddle out there and get them. Every year my mother makes a massive cheese and we swap it for a salmon. We send the cheese up on the train and
they send the salmon down in a box. Have you ever tasted salmon? It’s PINK inside and it’s delicious with a pat of butter and a sprinkle of fresh parsley.’

Freddie carried the truckle of cheese to the far end of the platform with Kate bustling beside him, talking non-stop. The train was now due in ten minutes. Ten blissful minutes, he thought, to
sit in the May sunshine with the girl he secretly loved. Why hide it? Why not tell her? he thought impulsively, and immediately a word shone large and bright in his head. ‘WAIT.’

He put the huge cheese down on a brown bench, and made an attempt at a joke. ‘The mice will be after me now,’ he said brushing his shoulder, ‘I smell of cheese.’

‘So do I!’ said Kate and went off into a volley of laughter, her eyes gleaming. It was such a bubbly, inviting laugh that Freddie found himself laughing too.

‘You’re like my granny,’ he said.

‘Well, thanks very much. There’s a nice compliment!’ Kate went into another peal of laughter that rang all over the station.

‘Sorry,’ said Freddie, but the word didn’t feel right. Kate was so full of joy and confidence that an abject apology slunk past her and escaped into the gutter.

A small silence followed, like an undiscovered jewel, both of them looking attentively at each other’s faces.

‘I should have asked your name,’ said Kate warmly.

‘Freddie Barcussy, and I know your name,’ he said. ‘Oriole Kate Loxley.’

She looked surprised. ‘How did you know? Not many people know my first name.’

‘I saw it once, on your suitcase,’ said Freddie, ‘when you were a little girl. I was there when you had the accident, and I stayed with you when you were lying unconscious in
the road.’

Kate gasped. For the first time she looked serious, and he saw her eyes settle into stillness, like a rippling pool becoming a tranquil mirror.

‘It was you!’ she said. ‘Fancy you remembering that.’

‘You had plaits, with red ribbons,’ said Freddie.

Kate looked at him searchingly.

‘I remember – I dreamed you were an angel,’ she said.

‘Angels don’t smell of cheese,’ said Freddie, and was rewarded with another peal of laughter.

‘The train’s coming.’ Shouts and movement stirred all along the platform as the freight train came puffing slowly in, and squealed to a halt. Immediately, two of the station
workers in dark blue sooty clothes jumped down onto the rails and walked along tapping the metal wheels, a routine inspection. The ramps were lowered onto the platform and the unloading and loading
began.

‘Big box here for Loxley, Hilbegut Farm,’ shouted Charlie.

‘I’ll help you, Kate,’ said Freddie. ‘I can collect my load in a minute.’

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.

‘Hello, 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 butterfly. 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.

‘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 attitude, 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 brass buckles. She sang as she
made the cucumber 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 reassuringly, 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 passenger, 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 grass and the
willow leaves sparkling and the sun flashing over the brown water.