Chapter 3

The train was one of those that stopped at every little station on the way and they were the only passengers getting out at Little Morpeth. There was nobody waiting for them at the station and Tilly looked about anxiously, so frightened now that she could feel her legs trembling and was sure that anybody who looked at her would notice.

A large man with a ruddy complexion wearing a railway uniform came trotting up, his face breaking into a big smile. "Master Johnny," he said, grasping Johnny's hand and shaking it vigorously up and down, "we weren't sure what time you would get here. The trains aren't so reliable as they used to be." He turned towards Tilly and tipped his hat. "And this must be-"

"Matilda Whitbread," said Johnny, "Tilly to you, Barney. My fiancée."

Barney grabbed Tilly's hand in both of his and shook it, with rather less vigour than he had shaken Johnny's. His hands were huge and warm and work-roughened.

"I'm right glad to meet you, Miss Tilly," he said. "I hope you'll be very happy here."

"But," Tilly began, on the point of explaining that she was only there for the weekend, but Barney had turned away from her. "Here's Ted now," he said. "He'll have the trap outside."

There was a shout from the front of the train and he broke off to shout back. "Sorry, Joe." Then he slammed the door of the carriage shut and blew his whistle.

The train pulled away with a great puffing of steam.

A very small, thin man was standing on the platform anxiously shifting from one foot to the other, apparently waiting to be noticed.

"It's young Ted!" Johnny said, with real warmth in his voice, "How are you, old chap?"

"Just Ted, now, Master Johnny," Ted said sadly.

Johnny's expression instantly changed to one of sadness. "Yes, I heard," he said. "I'm so sorry, Ted. He was a grand chap."

Tilly looked on, mystified, as Johnny went on. "You must have your work cut out doing it all on your own."

"Aye, it's not so bad, tha knows," said Ted, twisting his cap in his hands. "We've got land girls and your mother's boys to help us out and they're right hard workers, too. And to tell the truth," he went on, lowering his voice, "me father were getting a bit slow towards end."

He reached out to take Johnny's bag, but Johnny foiled him by swinging it up onto his shoulders and instead, he made a lunge for Tilly's little bag. She let him take it and smiled at him." Hello, Ted," she said, "I'm Tilly."

"Aye, I know, Miss," he said, avoiding her eyes and looking down at his feet. "I'm right glad to meet you."

Johnny slapped him on the back. "Come on then, lad. Let's see how Dobbin's doing. See you tomorrow, Barney," he shouted over his shoulder, and he put his arm round Tilly and led her out of the station.

Outside, by the pavement, stood an enormous cart, with an appropriately enormous horse between the traces.

"Is that Dobbin?" Tilly asked, and when Johnny nodded. "You can't call a magnificent beast like that Dobbin."

"What would you call him, then," he asked, amused.

"Oh, I don't know, Tarquin or Caesar, something more noble."

"Too late for that, I think. He's been Dobbin for fifteen years. I don't think he'll take to a new name now."

Johnny swung his kit bag onto the cart in one easy motion, helped Tilly up onto the front seat and got on beside her. Ted got on the other side, picked up the reins, and they started off. Tilly looked down at the board beneath her feet. She could see the road beneath. It seemed to be a long way down. Her legs were still trembling and she could see her dress shivering. Perhaps people would think it was the breeze. She bit her lip and tried to swallow the hard lump in her throat. This would be the end of it, she thought. As soon as they saw her, they'd put a stop to it. They wouldn't want their only son to marry such a common girl.

She'd never thought of herself as common before. Had, in fact, considered herself a cut above most of the other girls in their street because she'd been clever and got a scholarship place. The other kids had jeered at her uniform, stolen her beret and thrown it into the gutter, snatched her satchel and run down the road with it.

"You think you're cleverer than us, do you, Miss High and Mighty."

Yes, I do, she had thought, and was clever enough not to say so.

But compared to Johnny, she was the lowest of the low. His parents were wealthy. His father owned factories in the North and they lived in a country house. Johnny had gone to Westminster College and then Cambridge. It made her school certificate look a bit sad.

She was still trapped in a kind of dull misery when the cart slowed down and turned into a something that should more properly be called a portal than a gateway. The actual gate was missing, but there were two enormous carved pillars framing the space where they ought to be.

Johnny gave a small start.

"War effort," said Ted laconically. Then, seeing Johnny's raised eyebrow. "Iron for Spitfires."

"Oh." Johnny slumped down on the seat, looking a little depressed.

"England'll never be the same again." Ted added, with an air of satisfaction.

The house was visible now at the end of a long, curved drive. It looked enormous, almost as big as the hospital building. Tilly shrank back and leaned against Johnny. Surely people didn't live in places that size. You could have fitted her whole street in it. Oh, God!