A Child of Jarrow by Janet MacLeod Trotter Read Free Book Online

flinch. Jack could bear physical pain, would welcome it. Anything would be better than the strange aching in his chest that felt like suffocation. His eyes felt itchy as if he would cry, but only bairns and girls cried.
    He retreated to the oak tree and climbed into its comforting arms. Jack scraped at the lovers’ etched initials with his dangling boot.
    â€˜Williamena Ferret-Face loves Richard Mudpie,’ he muttered.
    Then suddenly, bewilderingly, the leaden lump in his chest heaved and tears flooded his eyes. Jack gave out a sharp yelp. He curled into the tree, buried his face in his arms and wept.

Chapter 4
    Alexander felt a familiar boyish rush of excitement as the horse and trap turned under the castellated gateway and waited for the lodge keeper to emerge. Impatient, he leapt down from the passenger’s seat.
    â€˜I’ll walk up to the castle,’ he smiled at the coachman who had brought him from the station. He paid him his fare, waved away the change the man tried to give him and lifted down his leather case.
    â€˜Good afternoon, Mr Bates!’ he called to the stooped retired gardener, whose sole responsibility now was to open and close the high wrought-iron gates at this seldom-used entrance to Ravensworth. Most of the many visitors who came and went from the bustling estate did so by the broad entrance and sweeping driveway to the north. The south lodge was almost obscured by foliage and the narrow turf drive was roofed by massive oaks and elms, creating a green mossy tunnel. But it reminded Alexander of childhood visits and on the spur of the moment he had got the coachman to stop.
    â€˜Mr Pringle-Davies?’ The old man grinned with pleasure. ‘Good day to you, sir.’
    â€˜Grand day, Mr Bates. You look fighting fit as ever.’
    The keeper chuckled as he moved slowly to unlock the rusting gate.
    â€˜Aye, grand day. Are you here for long, sir?’
    â€˜A few days of business and a few more of pleasure, I should think,’ Alexander answered with a swift smile, clasping the man on the shoulder as he stepped through the gate. ‘Is Lady Ravensworth at home?’
    â€˜Don’t rightly know,’ he wheezed. ‘I’ll ask the missus, she knows it all. If the cat sneezes in the castle kitchens she’s the first to hear it. Mrs Bates!’
    A tiny woman with an old-fashioned cap on her head and an even more bent posture than her husband came bowling out of the stone cottage. She looked up sideways and cried in delight at the sight of the tall young man.
    â€˜Master Alexander! Come here and let me look at you. By, you’re as tall as a tree - and still your mother’s fair face, so you have. Such a bonny face!’
    Alexander blushed and laughed aloud. ‘You knew her better than me. I bow to your superior knowledge.’
    â€˜Listen to you,’ she crowed, ‘words coming off your tongue like a proper gentleman. I don’t care what they say about you being a common Pringle, your mam was a Liddell as much as His Lordship’s a Liddell - and she was a real lady. I used to fill her bath for her and I can tell you—’
    â€˜That’s enough, Mrs Bates,’ her husband coughed in warning. ‘Mr Pringle-Davies doesn’t want your life story, just wants to know if Lady Ravensworth is at home.’
    Mrs Bates clucked in disapproval. ‘No, she is not. Gone somewhere foreign - the Continent or the likes. Left His Lordship to his hunting. Not that he does much of that these days at his age - sleeps a lot in the library so I hear. Eighty-one. Still a handsome man, mind. And there’s the old dowager still at Farnacre, and she a hundred! They’re long-lived the Liddells - excepting your poor dear mother.’
    â€˜Mrs Bates,’ her husband cautioned her again with one of his embarrassed coughs.
    â€˜Thank you for your information,’ Alexander said with a reassuring smile, touching the old woman on