The COTTAGE

English cottage

Fiction by John Seeker

This story is situated in the rural England of a few centuries ago and is centred around a cottage and its occupants. It seems suitable for an Easter week(when I wrote it) and lasts about as long, at an episode a day
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The Cottage still exists today in its postcard perfect setting, though it was built 400 years ago. It is fairly small with a thatched roof around a yard thick and two foot thick walls of stone that are covered with a lime treatment that makes it pure white, both inside and out.

The windows are small, with four panes. Two windows on the ground floor and two upstairs, the same on the sides and three at the back. At the front, in the middle, is a thick wooden door on iron hinges whose fingers spread out over the door to support its weight. A small porch roof shelters visitors from the rain as they wait be answered in response to the heavy iron knocker, shaped like a foot. Climbing up the sides and front are the type of rose that can go up even fifteen feet. They start flowering around June and last until late September, giving vivid splashes of red against the white. When the windows are open and the roses are in bloom, their fragrance wafts in throughout the place.

An unusual feature was a small archway at the ground level way to the left of the front door. The cottage had been built over a small stream, because the man who had commissioned it, a miller from a water mill on a bigger stream not far away, was so used to the sound of water that he felt uneasy without it. This stream, coming in from an adjacent field fed a pond, ran under the house, through the back garden and disappeared into the direction of the bigger stream. Thanks to this stream, a majestic weeping willow grew near the pond and under it were two rough wooden benches either side of a rough wooden table, where the family gathered in the shade during the hot days of summer.

Not surprisingly, the Cottage was named Millers Rest. Access to it was from a country lane via a path over 50 yards long, bare earth, a rich ochre colour and lined by stones that were also white with lime. Over to the west lay a small village, the spire of its small church just visible over a mile away above nearby trees. Three other trees grew in the front garden, apple, pear, and plum. The rest was just grass, browsed short by the two sheep they kept.

Entering the front door gave immediate access to the sitting room on the left though the doorway had no door. It contained wooden benches and a couple of chairs for the miller and his wife to sit on. Three storage cupboards stood in each corner. It was basically the reception room for people other than tradesmen, who went to the back door. The floor was made of flagstones as was the rest of the ground floor. Spartan was the impression, the only ornament usually being a wooden cross, showing their religious allegiance.

Immediately after the doorway to the sitting room was another door. behind it was the stairs. On the right was another door leading into the kitchen, easily the largest room of the house. Not only did it contain the large iron cooking stove and oven, but also a very large oak table that could easily seat 12, where the family and any guests ate. Above is was a small log, suspended from a beam, into which had been nailed 6 candle holders. To light or extinguish them you had to stand on the table. Candle holders were available in every room, either on a stand or stuck into the wall. Benches along the sides of the table, a chair at one end for Madame, and a larger more ornate chair for Sir, with longer legs enabling him to dominate the assembly.

Here the smoke had blackened the oak beams, whereas in the sitting room they were still a rich brown. The stairs doubled back on themselves and were steep and very narrow. A broad-shouldered man would have to go up half sideways. That meant that large furniture had to be taken up as planks and panels held vertically. The upper floor was floorboards, supported by the beams below inset into the walls. Immediately to the left was the kids bedroom with no door. It was large with an enormous bed. All the kids slept there, regardless of sex or age. Apart from the bed there was only a big wardrobe, no space for anything else.

The parents bedroom had a door, with a wooden latch, as did the front and back doors, no locks or keys anywhere. It also had a fireplace that was used in winter, being the heating for upstairs, the staircase not allowing much from downstairs. The kitchen door that led into the back garden was also different. it was much wider and horizontally split halfway up so that either part could be opened independently. The reason it was like that was to allow animals to enter, even a big horse. They had two horses, a big carthorse and a more slim line three year old, used by the eldest boy of 16 for his trip to the farm where he worked and back again twice a day, as he came home for lunch.

Of course, there were no amenities at all. Water was obtained from the stream where is entered the pond. In summer, the stream tended to become a trickle, requiring patience to fill a jug and even more to fill a pail. The pond acted as a small reservoir. it had small fish and some marine life in it, such as a crayfish and was home to some dragonflies, but they were not worth bothering with for food and were more for the amusement of the children.

If the stream dried up totally, then water had to be brought by pail from the big stream. That fell to the miller as he went there 6 days a week to run his mill anyway. He actually used the milkmaid system of the shaped wood that went across the shoulders and out either side, with a hook-shape at each end that the pails were attached to plus the two blocks of wood used to minimise slopping.

Where the stream left the back garden through a hedge, a couple of additional bushes had been planted, about a yard in from the hedge. Referred to as the privy, this served as a toilet. You just stood or crouched astride it and used leaves or grass to wipe. Chamber pots, generally referred to as a goes-under, served at night or when it was raining hard.

The back garden also contained a large vegetable plot, used mainly for growing potatoes, cabbage, cauliflower, and carrots. it was protected from the hens and stray small creatures. by a wickerwork fence, or more exactly a woven reed fence that had branches and twigs in it for strength and to hold it up.

The millers wife, Gladys, was mainly occupied in the kitchen. One thing she was never short of was flour. She made several loaves daily and often cakes as well. The miller had an agreement with the farmer who owned the field next to them that they had the use of. His wife would turn up with a half pail of milk and get two loaves and a cake in exchange. They would gossip for a bit and perhaps share a fruit between them. It was easier to exchange things that were effectively free, apart from the work involved, than to buy the ingredients and do it yourself. In this respect Gladys was well placed and knew it, as everybody needed bread, and thus flour. She did quite a lot of that kind of trade, as did her husband.

During the four centuries it has existed, the Cottage had some modifications. It saw many dramas, both internally and externally. Some of those will now follow. The backdrop is set, the curtain is about to rise, the Cottage will unfold some of its stories.

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The miller and his family were happy in their new home. Originally they had lived in a single room above the grinding stone turned by the water wheel that never stopped, unless it was for repairs. As the family grew, it was simply too small, no privacy and continues noise from the stone making its circuit and the occasional groans of wood under strain. His father solved the problem when he wanted to retire, I’ll sell my place, and give you most of the money to build a cottage and I’ll come back live back here, its fine for two of us and we are used to the noise, but please don’t ask me to do any work. Six months later the elderly couple had died within a few days of each other.

The cottage had been built on a self-help basis. That is that family supplied all the labour for carrying the stones and things and the builder just did the work for a couple of hours a day when he was not too busy. In return he got free bread and cake for life. The wood had to be paid for, but, as the carpenter for the roof did most of his work in conjunction with the builder, so he made a similar arrangement plus a small payment.

We would call the life hard. Everybody worked from dawn to dusk, including the toddlers when they were old enough to walk steadily and carry things, though they got a couple of naps during the day. The middle ones were allowed a candle for an hour to play games in the evening and the older ones two hours, though often they were not fully used. The first largish hiccup was unexpected, in the form of knocking on the door early one evening.

Surprised, the miller went to answer. Even more surprising it was a local farmer. As he had cows and not corn, the miller didn’t know him that well. “Sorry to bother you, Tom and you will need your eldest here as well”, the farmer said as they shook hands. Tom felt anger building. The usual reason for this sort of thing was that the lad had been pinching something from the farm. Dick he yelled over his shoulder, get your bum here at once! The sound of running feet, what is it dad? Seeing the farmer he said “good evening, Sir”, also looking surprised. “What’s the problem, Fred”, Tom asked?

“Dick done made my Rosy pregnant”, glaring at Dick. Tom was stunned. Rosy was Tom’s eldest, about 15. “How so, he works during the day and doesn’t go out at night”? It seems sometimes he would finish at lunchtime early and stop off in those woods yonder and Rosy would do her milk round to be there at the same time. The farmer’s turn to yell over his shoulder. Rosy! From behind the hedge where she had been standing Rosy came out and trotted down the path holding her long skirts just above the ground. She was well named, looking the typical budding english rose, and budding she now was.

Tell him what you told me after I dragged it out of you. Red faced, looking at the ground forlornly and wringing her hands clasped in front of her. “Well, it was just a bit of court at first, we just used to meet and talk and hold hands and kissed. Then it sort of went further and we did it. Then we kept on doing it and then….” and she started crying. Tom looked at Dick who was also looking shamefacedly at the ground and red to boot. Just that was enough to convince Tom that he was guilty. “You know what you have to do now, he ground out”? “Yes, he stammered, we have to get married”.

“That’s not how you ask somebody to marry you”, Tom snarled. “Rosy will you please be my wife”? “Oh yes, Dick”, and she rushed forward and they hugged. “Ok, you two, you can talk, you need to get your life as a couple sorted out” the farmer added and also be punished. “We are agreed Tom,” offering his hand? Yes, said Tom, taking it, “the rest of our families and others need to see that it was wrong before they start doing it. Lets walk off and talk about it”.

They walked off. As it was up to the husband to accommodate the wife, that meant Rosy became Tom’s responsibility until Dick was of age. The farmer said,” I know you will be hard put to accommodate them as a couple, they can sleep in your Hay V. That shows they are being punished”. “Yes, that would seem right. Dick has to find an attic or some place for them to live in by the time the baby arrives, though they will still be able to eat here. I can leave it to your wife to arrange for the marriage and that”? “Of course, no doubt she will come and visit Gladys regularly over that”. “No problem. So, lets go and tell them how they stand”. So they went back.

They looked very woebegone when they were told about the hay V and Rosy more so when her father said. “You are not to come home until you are married. Until then we don’t want to see you. Clear”? But dad…. “No buts, that’s the way it is and he stomped off”.

The hay V was the bales of hay that the farmer who owned the field stored in it. After he lost a big hayrick that caught fire, he thought it better to use several places for storage instead of one. The V was essentially two walls of circular hay bales, piled three high, roughly 9 feet, and at less than 90°. it purpose was to ensure that it did not generate heat like a hayrick could and to provide protection against the harsh winter winds for the animals. It had heavy planks leaning against it and along the top to keep the worst of the rain off. If the wind shifted too much, then one wall had to be moved to protect against it. That was hard work, as moving a bale normally required two men, they were heavy.

After he had left, Tom yelled out in the direction of the V, “Toga here”, being formed from the first two letters of Tom and Gladys. It was the name of the guard dog that guarded the animals, namely the two horses and sheep and the multitude of hens that nested in the V. Within a short time it wriggled through a place in the hedge and bounded over. It was some kind of bull mastiff, rather like a pit bull, but twice its size. Tom seized it by the collar. “Rosy, it has to get to know you, otherwise you cannot enter that field, it will go for you.

Come and pat it on the head and stroke and let it smell you, it may snarl and growl, but it won’t bite when I’m holding it, just don’t show you are afraid and keep repeating its name”. She did so gingerly whilst Tom was saying, “Rosy friend”, several times. Gladys, who, of course, had been secretly been listening to all that was being said, emerged with a bone. “Give it to him, Rosy, just hold it out by the end. If you have to go into the field on your own, talk to it as you enter so it will recognize you if the wind is not from your direction. The field is its territory and it protects it ferociously. Once it is used to you, that will not be necessary.

Dinner will be in about half an hour. I will find a thick cover for you. You will have to make do with that on the ground tonight, its too late to start making a ledge in the hay to sleep on. At least you will be able to keep each other warm”, tipping her a surreptitious wink. “Thank you missus”, Rosy replied. “Dick and Tom will do that tomorrow” and Gladys disappeared back inside. Tom said, “lets get it clear, Rosy, from now on, whilst you are staying here, I am your temporary father and my wife your temporary mother. We expect to be obeyed in all things and we don’t like cheek. Got it”? Yes, Sir.

“Of course, you will be required to help Gladys most of your time”. Of course, Sir. “Dick, do not DARE take a candle out into the V, its far too much of a fire risk. Tonight you find a piece of ground not occupied by the animals. Its their place first and not yours and each has theirs. Yes, Sir”. Normally he only called his father Sir when he was in the doghouse. At the moment it was more the outhouse.

At dinner, after grace, but before they started eating. Tom presented Rosy as Dick’s future wife and she would be staying with them until they were married. “She is also going to have a baby”. The kids all looked at each other, big eyed and opened mouth. The youngest, a girl getting on five, asked “where is the baby coming from”? Gladys replied, “its growing in her tummy right now”. “How did it get in her Tummy”? “That’s a secret you will learn when you are older, now eat”. More exchange of glances between the kids — that topic was surely going to be the subject of much whispering in their bed for days to come.

The proposed marriage was announced the following Sunday at the end of the church service and would be there in three weeks time. The Banns would be affixed to the church door when the service was finished. Though it was not announced that Rosy was expecting, everybody knew she must be, no engagement and a marriage out of the blue. The euphemism they used for it was that she had a bun in the oven.

Social life actually centered round the church. Families often arrived an hour early and/or stayed an hour afterwards to talk to friends, generally gossip, and exchange news. The villagers could walk there easily, but the outlying farm people came on horseback, or via horse and cart. Tom and Gladys rode on the carthorse, more for standing than anything else, and the kids would run along behind. The horses were turned loose in the graveyard, big help in keeping the grass short.

The younger children also played there whilst their parents were inside. Curiously the job of supervising them fell to the non-believers, who were usually very few indeed, it being classed as a social obligation. It was also the only real opportunity for the older children and the teenagers to get to know each other. They were allowed to chose whom they sat with on the strict understanding they would not be heard. The result was that it was the place where most courtships started. either inside or during the meetings on the outside.

There being no tavern, and no real shops, the tradesmen’s work place served that purpose, there was no other natural place for people to get together and everybody was usually very busy with their own affairs. Thus things like marriages, births, and deaths were a welcome socialising opportunity. Gladys and Rosy’s mother suddenly started getting a lot of visits from other wives, some of whom they hardly knew. These visitors were all agog to get the background news, hear of the arrangements, make it known they would be pleased to attend the wedding and such.

Gladys was secretly pleased, even if she groaned to Tom about not being able to get much work done. Of course she was doing her scouting at the opportunity. The first that tells me were I can find a cheap room to place the new couple will get an invite to the wedding. One proposed an attic. I’d like to keep that in reserve, but it will be too difficult when she becomes heavy with child, she won’t even be able to get through the trap.

Finally she got lucky, an elderly widow said “they can use my children’s bedroom as they have all left home now. In return, Rosy can help me, bearing in mind her condition. Later I can ensure that her baby is being properly looked after, as Rosy would otherwise be largely on her own and its her first. The only thing is that you would have to pay for the door”.

Gladys nodded, by reputation the window was hard-pressed to find a means of living, being on her own and rather too old for heavy drudge work. She also twigged that the widow was lonely, she’d have to be careful that her first grandchild didn’t get rather taken over. “I’ll have to discuss it with my husband, but that’s certainly promising, we should meet again soon to discuss more details, say in three days. Please accept a cake to take back with you”. The bargaining had begun. On hearing this, the Cottage felt sad, it was sometime since the sounds of new life had gladdened its ears.

So that evening Dick and Rosy departed after dinner for their rough night under the stars. They didn’t get much sleep, they were not used to the various noises made by the horses, the sheep, the many hens, and Toga, who would suddenly start barking, or even growling and running off.

The kids were not much better off. They were used to their big brother telling them stories that they fell asleep to and generally keeping things in order. Without the stories they were restless and unruly. The next oldest, their big sister, did not have the same authoritative voice, so she resorted to a few slaps and some then had to cry themselves to sleep. This made the Cottage feel even sadder, plus that one of the three inhabitants that she knew the longest was no longer there. Of course, nobody thought of how the Cottage felt, though there was a sign a few days later.

The next day at breakfast, Dick and Rosy looked bleary eyed. Gladys thought the poor things had been too uncomfortable and in the strangeness. Tom thought it was because they had been going at it too much. Gladys announced “you will have to give me more money, Dick, I now have one and a bit more mouths to feed”. Dick looked at her stunned, but resignedly said, “of course, Mother”. He got a penny a day. If he had been a man it would have been threepence, but he was learning the job. It was tradition that the miller’s eldest worked at the farm that had the most variety of grain, corn, maize, barley and such. Thus he would know all about the problems of producing them, reaping them and so on. This would be a big help to actually grinding them and organizing his workload, as the different crops matured at different times.

Of course, he didn’t know that his mother would keep the extra money and give him it back when he moved into his new place. The marriage arrangements advanced and the deal with the widow was fixed up. Glady’s was feeling pleased, but a very strange thing happened. The oldest sister, impolitely refereed to as the Queen of Tarts by the youngsters said “When we got up this morning , the room seemed to have changed colour”. “How do you mean, changed colour”? “Its gone light grey and not white”. You must be seeing things, lime does not change colour, its always white”. The kids were all saying, “its not white mummy”. “I must see this”, she said to Elsie, the oldest girl, and they went upstairs.

Seeing that indeed it was light grey, “ok, now tell me the truth, the kids hands were all dirty and they messed up the walls, so it was washed and it ended up this colour”? “No Mother, even the ceiling is grey and they can’t reach that”. “Good heavens, so it is. Go get your Father”. Tom came up with a scowl on his face. “What’s this nonsense”? “Look for your self”. “Wow. We must have a leak somewhere, it goes off-white if it gets damp”. “But it doesn’t feel damp, I thought of that”. Tom verified it for himself. “Ok, I’ll get the builder to call in, he’s sure to know”.

Later that day, when she went to arrange the bed, she checked the kids room, still light grey. When she entered her bedroom, it seemed the white had the faintest tinge of pink. I must be imagining things, lets see if Tom notices without me saying anything. Two days later he did. Is our room slowly becoming pink he asked? YES! The Cottage thought, they will soon start to take notice of me.

Three days later, when the kids had all gone up to bed, the miller said to I’ve been thinking about the builder. They remained downstairs when the subject was serious and they didn’t want to be over heard, upstairs the kids could listen at the door. The house dog, a fox terrier, obviously called Foxy, slept at the head of the stairs. It woke and barked if any of them tried to come downstairs, but did nothing if they went and knocked on the door of their parents bedroom. It had been trained like that in case any of the kids went sleep walking when the steep stairs were a real danger.

“Yes, dear, what was your thought”? “That one room that had gone grey might be explainable, but that another room has gone pink would not, so he could be of no help. Worse the whole village would soon know. We’d either get a stream of curiosity visitors, or nobody would come near, thinking its haunted”. “Do you think its haunted”? Tom shook his head. “Not like any haunting I’ve heard of, Gladys. No knocking sounds, things being moved or falling off, no sudden chills and all that. It doesn’t ‘feel’ haunted either”. “I agree”.

“Problem is it seems its getting worse”. “How do you mean”? “You can’t tell in this light, but late this afternoon, the kitchen seemed to have a yellow tinge and the sitting room a blue one”. “My God, what is going on” Tom exclaimed. Gladys shrugged. “Seems we cannot hide it now, normal visitors will see it. The widow comes to arrange things for Dick and Rosy and Fred’s wife for the marriage, not to mention others that still turn up”.

“We can’t just say its haunted Tom said, you know how superstitious people are. We would be ostracised, even at the church. We need to find another explanation that would not cause people a problem”. “Agreed, but what”? Tom shrugged. Two minutes of sombre silence followed and then Gladys said. “You mentioned the church, it has to be something acceptable to the church. If they accept it everybody else would”. “That’s a good idea, but still what”?

“You remember when the ground had been marked and the foundations made before the real building commenced. We came here and knelt and prayed. Do you remember what that prayer was”? “Of course, said Tom, it was a very moving moment. It was please let this House be a Haven of our Happiness”. “So there we have it. Our prayer has been answered”. “That’s a brilliant idea, but I don’t really see how that helps with the colours”? “It reflects our emotions in the colours it uses. This enables us to seem them. If the colours are nice, it reflects ours and so it reinforces them, if they are not, then they are sombre”.

“But if that were the case, then our room should be grey as well, we are sorry to see Dick leave, especially in those circumstances”. “True, but it would have happened in 15 months anyway. Tradition said that when a lad reaches 18, he leaves home to live on his own. Its not nice living on your own, it encourages him to find a wife”. Tom nodded. “But secretly we are very happy at the prospect of our first grandchild, so that’s why our room is pink and not grey. The grandchild makes no difference to the kids at all, they are just sad because Dick has left”. Hearing this, the Cottage silently applauded.

“So that means we have to ask the vicar to come here. He will be hard to convince, you know how they always see the Devil’s work everywhere”. “Indeed, but at least we have a chance to talk to him. If he hears about it from someone else there’ll be a sermon about it and that’s us finished. As both the Widow and Fred’s wife are here in three days time, then he has to come the day after tomorrow.

That will give me time to make sure everything is spick and span”. “You always make sure the sitting rooms spick and span, dear”. “I do my best, but he will want to see all the rooms. That the kitchen has some mess is normal, but the kids room is usually a tip. I will have to change all the bed linen and that so it looks fresh and get them to hide their toys”. “Do you have a preferred time”? “Say 11;30 you can ask him for lunch to follow, he’ll like different cooking for a change”. Tom nodded, Gladys was very astute at making the most of the cards she had.

So they went up to bed, patted Foxy, checked the kids seemed all asleep and settled down to sleep themselves. Tom was praying that he would not get angry with the Vicar when so much depended upon it. As Gladys was there most of the time anyway, he should leave the real talking to her. Gladys was silently addressing the Cottage.

— — — — —
I don’t know how or why you are doing this, but you must understand that we have a holy man coming soon. It is most important for us all that he does not feel there are bad things going on, please help with that if you can. The cottage listened attentively. It knew about the Church and bad and good things, one way or another they were often a subject of discussion.

Close to the appointed hour, the Vicar arrived, hitching his horse outside the gate. Tom met him halfway down the path. “Please be most welcome to my humble abode Sir”, bowing his head and touching his forelock. “No need for that, Tom, offering his hand; Where are the children, they usually coming running to meet me”? “We’ve sent them all to attend to the animals and bring fresh eggs. We have a serious subject to discuss and we would not want prying ears”. I see said the Vicar, thinking it must be something to do with sex then. Gladys met him a few paces from the door with a small curtsy.

“We need your advice on something rather out of the ordinary, what it is will become apparent as soon as you enter. Please do not jump to conclusions before we have explained about it”. “Very well”. Gladys opened the front door inviting the Vicar to enter. He stopped on the threshold as he could see into the sitting room. “My goodness, its light blue, I’ve never seen lime blue before how did you do that”? Please take a seat. So he sat on one of the benches by the wall, knowing that it would be bad form to take one of the chairs for the Heads of the family. “I must say it makes a nice difference he said, it contrasts well with the dark wood”.

“Thank you, Sir, said Gladys, but it was not made that way by us”. “Then who did it”? “No person, it was an Angel”, she said, seizing inspiration. “An Angel made it blue? Why on earth would it do that”? Tom said, “its because we prayed hard for happiness here before it was built and our prayer was answered. So one room has turned light blue and you seem to think that is a sign for your happiness”? Tom glanced at Gladys who said. “The other rooms are different colours, the kids room is grey, ours is pink and the kitchen is yellow”. “Good heavens, that’s unheard of”. “We think that the Angel gave the cottage the power to change colour according to what goes on inside”. Even she thought that sounded lame.

Suddenly she made a secret sign to Tom and they both slipped to their knees in an attitude of prayer. “See, it recognizes you are a holy man, the wall around you is turning gold”, saying fervently and silently, thank you Cottage. The Vicar glanced to either side and saw that the wall for about two feet either side was gold. He sprang up in alarm and turned to look. “Oh my, it does show a nimbus round me. Seeing their frown, he said, “you know the kind of gold halo that surrounds holy figures in paintings”? They didn’t actually, the church was spartan in decoration, but they had heard of such a thing. Tom chimed in, “you are well known for being a very holy man, Sir”. That got him a beautific smile.

“May I see the other rooms”? “Certainly, Tom said, I will show you the way”, thus giving Gladys the opportunity to get the lunch under way. When the they came back down and the Vicar had admired the kitchen as well and commented how extraordinary it all was, he asked. “How many people know about this”? “Just our family and now yourself. But we cannot keep it secret, people come to visit to discuss the wedding, arrangements for Dick and Rosy and such. We are afraid they will think it is a bad thing and we will be ostracised for it”. “No fear of that, if it recognizes a holy man, it cannot be the Devil’s work, for once.

Do you realise that people will come from far and wide to see this when it becomes known”. “They will”? “Most certainly, there is little direct evidence of God’s hand in things, everyone knows lime can only be white. If you charged for admittance, then you would obviously be able to increase your contribution to the church, would you not”? “Of course, Sir, said Tom, we would be glad to in recognition to your support”. “Good, I will contact the Vicars of the nearby villages to come and visit with me on Saturday. That way they could make their announcements the day after”. Gladys demurred, “it would be difficult to accommodate everybody for lunch”. “Have the children eat first and they will pay towards it, Gladys”. She nodded acquiescence.

The Vicar then announced “of course you will have to change the name of the Cottage”. “Ohh, to what”, Tom asked? “The Angels Rainbow Cottage, what else”? “A fine name”, said Tom. Just then all the kids arrived. During lunch the Vicar asked told them, you should all be very pleased, as you have an Angel looking after this Cottage and thus you as well. Oh yes Sir, they liked that idea. The youngest, still hung up on wanting to know how a baby got into a tummy and having heard the phrase Immaculate Conception bandied about, asked “did this Angel give Rosy her baby by immaculthingy”? No, but I’m sure he blessed it happening, deary”, rolling his eyes in the direction of Gladys. Ahhhhh.

Once again Tom and Gladys stayed up later that night to discuss things. They were both happy to have the support of the Vicar and thus the church, it avoided a lot of problems. Nonetheless Tom was a little dubious. He said “you know how the gentry start horning in on things when there is a penny to be made and the Church is no exception”. “True enough dear, but we cannot complain if we are getting extra money, you know how things always need replacing”. “What are you thinking of”? “The carthorse is old, it probably does not have two years left to it and even one that is not so old is not cheap”. Tom nodded.

“In addition we will also need extra tables and benches under the willow tree”. “Whatever for”? “People who come a long way will need a place to rest, eat the food they buy here, and even have some ale. Do you know how to make ale”? “Not really, except it can be done from barley”. “You need to find out then. We could always do mead as well, that’s quite popular”. “But you need hives for that”. “True, but it would make a good occupation for the second eldest boy”.

“Look Gladys, you are going too fast, first lets get the marriage out of the way and start seeing how the land lies after that”. “I can dream can’t I”? “Aye, but keep it to yourself for the moment, our chickens are not hatching yet”! That observation was a lot more premonitory than he realised.

— — — — —

The following day, a Sunday, The Vicar announced at the end of the Service that next Sunday he would be announcing an unusual local event. Meanwhile he was looking forward to doing the marriage ceremony next Saturday. Gladys was stunned, she had been expecting an announcement about the cottage. “What is he playing at”, she hissed at Tom. “He made it clear. We cannot possible handle a horde of visitors with the marriage coming up”. “But the kids will be talking about it to the other kids here”. “We have to stop that soonest then, said Tom, lets go” and they rushed out motioning the oldest two, who were inside, to follow. “Go round and tell our mob to not talk about the angel. We will do the same until they have all been told.

We’ll split up and meet back at the gate”. They all rushed off. Tom was the one who found the middle girl sat alone on a grave stone, looking desolate. “Ho, sweetie, what’s up”? “The other kids made fun of me, some where even” — she made the sign of lunacy by twiddling her index finger at her temple. “Oh you poor thing, why were they doing that”? “Because I said we had an Angel living in our cottage”. “Ahhh I see, they didn’t believe you”? “No, when its true, they just laughed and did that”. “Never mind, let me carry you to the horse, you can ride on it on the way back”. “Ohhhh really, daddy”? “I just said, so then you can wave and laugh at them”. “Ohhh goody, pick me up then”, holding her arms up.

The marriage took place on the Saturday with first the service. The church was packed and garlanded with flowers. Those that could not get in stood outside and cheered when the bride arrived in a cart. The horse had been decorated with coloured plumes and its reins were covered in white tissue, quite fetching. Rosy’s dress was nice and, as she was not showing much yet, it was only a little looser than normal at the waist. What with the veil and everything she looked quite the vestal virgin, being so young.

After the service, everybody gathered outside, custom being the bridal pair were the last to leave and passed under the arch formed by the upheld hands of the parishioners and the kids threw handfuls of grain over them so that they would be blessed by both food and children and there was lots of cheering. They climbed onto the cart and disappeared into the distance, accompanied by the merry clatter of old utensils now attached to the back of the cart, some of which they would likely use.

The adults retrieved the mugs that had been given to the kids outside and congregated by the barrel of ale that had been provided. With encouragements the children all joined hands and danced in a circle round the throng, the adults clapping and most singing songs such as ring-a-ring the roses. In villages terms it was all a high old time! When it was winding down, Fred and his wife and selected guests returned to the Cottage, with had obligingly turned the kitchen colour back to pale lemon.

The widow had been selected as Godmother and her younger brother as Godfather. So there was a very late lunch during which a lot of the discussion centred round the future of the young couple, the original purpose of what later became known as a wedding reception. After they had finished eating and that subject had been exhausted, Tom and Galdys accompanied everyody to the gate, exchanged a few last words with some and waved them all goodbye. They were stunned when they re-entered the kitchen, it had turned uniformly rose.

“Blimey, Tom exclaimed, how can it do it so fast”? S”earch me, I guess its getting used to doing it. Remember our own wedding night”, Gladys had a gleam in her eye? Tom picked upon it, “how could I forget”?” Ok lets see if you really remember”, taking his hand and heading for the stairs. They didn’t see the kitchen turning a rather bright red behind them. Of course ,on the next day, being a Sunday they were expecting the announcement from the Vicar and once again they were pretty disappointed.

After the service he said, we are fortunate that one of the houses in our community has the protection of an Angel. We should all pray that it will extend its protection to the village. It it not yet time to say which house is it. Gladys and Tom exchanged what gives looks as he continued. The Mayor will take my place in the pulpit, he has extremely grave news and also orders to give, so you must listen with all your attention. The Mayor speaking from the pulpit happened rarely, so it must be serious. All eyes were on him in pin-drop silence as he climbed the steps.

“Brethren, I have been informed by messenger from the town that the first case of plague has been reported in the village 4 miles to the East of it”. A buzz of murmurs as people asked each other, plague, what plague? Rats? Grain blight? “SILENCE! I have been told to enforce the same rules as the town is now applying. This plague kills people. Its a bad disease that if you catch, then after a couple of days, black boils start appearing on your skin and most die from it within a couple of days. Its contagious, that means you can catch it from somebody who has got it. Its not for nothing that it is being called the Black Death”. Shocked silence!

Then the hubbub started as people shouted out questions and talked to others round about. The mayor waited patiently for a while and then put his arms up and forward, palms facing the people, the classic hold your horses gesture. Soon people noticed it and stopped talking, urging others to do the same. Silence fell, punctuated by the odd scream of the kids playing outside.” In answer to the question this is what you will do, and that’s an order with the full weight of our Landlord behind it. Firstly you have two days maximum to accumulate as much food as you can for three weeks”. stunned silence.

“You will then barricade yourselves in your homes for that length of time. Nobody gets in and nobody leaves under any pretext. If a person inside gets ill with the black boils, it is your choice whether your put them out immediately in the hope that you have not yet got it, or as soon as they are dead. The grave digger will have two assistants for this period. They will pass with a horse and cart every day after the two days, ringing the hand bell the Vicar uses for the children. There will be no funerals, no church services, nothing at all, because nobody is allowed out anyway. You have your instructions, follow them to the letter, that is all”. He stepped down as the Bedlam started.

Tom said to Gladys “lets go, we need to get home as soon as possible”. “Why the rush”? “What are the people going to do who cannot find the food for three weeks”? “Ohh, you think…”? “Better to be sure than sorry”! Dick joined them as they struggled out. “What should I do dad”, he asked? “Get your horse, put Rosy on it, bring it and the widow home to stay with us. If you try and take food from there to here, you are likely to be set upon for it”. Dick gave him big eyes and then just ran off. The kids had gathered by the carthorse as everybody came rushing out and started going their ways, something unusual was clearly going on for that to happen.

Tom handed the youngest up to Gladys once she had mounted. “Kids, don’t ask questions, we have to get back to the house in a hurry, the horse will trot, try and keep up” and he mounted in front of Gladys. Gee up, he called taking the reins. it plodded off. Gee up, shaking the reins and digging his heels in. The horse turned his head to look round at him. If it had been human it would have been wearing a who me, an extra load and you are asking me to go faster look. Tom scowled at it. GEE UP. It reluctantly broke into a trot. Gladys leaned forward to hear what Tom had to say. “We have to work fast, you and the kids bring all the animals into the house except the horses, they will have to take their chance”. “Upwards of 40 hens are going to make a hell of a mess”? “I know, can’t be helped. They will need straw for nesting”.

She nodded. “What will you be doing”? “As soon as Dick gets here, we’ll ride to the mill. there are two sack of grain their waiting to be ground. We will need those for the hens and chicks”. “Chicks”? “Yep we have to rear them to replace the hens we will be eating. Don’t forget that we can only get the veg that we grow, it will not be enough and we have three and a bit extra people to feed. The sheep don’t eat grain. We will have to let them into the garden to graze and guard them whilst they do it”. “You think it will be that bad? I hope not, but we have to plan for the worst”. “Agreed”.

“The youngest are lagging, we should slow down. We’re nearly there. They will have to get changed first. I think they should be thoroughly inspected everyday before dinner, just in case”. “Good idea”, said Tom. “What are we going to do, if one of them seems suspect”? “That’s a very difficult choice Tom, we need to think about it”. “Doesn’t seem to me there is much to think about, they all sleep together, if one gets it, its likely they will all get it. A suspect will have to leave for the hay V. That includes any of us”. “That’s going to be very hard Tom”. “Of course, but what other way is there”? “You are right, its the only way to protect the rest”. They arrived at the gate, dismounted, and let the horse wander loose. It could hardly believe its luck, it wasn’t normally allowed in the garden and the grass was particularly lush, though it did wonder why it wasn’t unsaddled as normal on a Sunday.

Send the kids upstairs as soon as they get here” she said to Tom, mounting herself. “Upstairs kids, Mother is waiting”. They all exchanged looks, that was strange. He scrutinised each carefully, as they passed. The mid-girl, Daisy seemed to be sweating a lot more than the others. Upstairs in their bedroom, Gladys said “strip nude before you put some thing else back on and wait until you have been checked over. This will happen every day before dinner for a while”. “MOTHER, said Elsie, scandalised, I’m almost full grown, surely not in front of the boys”?

“You are right, Elsie, boys one side of the bed facing the wall and the girls the other. First one that tries to peep across the bed gets no dinner. Quick about it and keep your under-things with you. Whose not feeling too well”? Nobody said anything. Else said,” Daisy was saying she had a headache and felt hot”. “Its nothing Daisy said, just a slight touch of off colour”. Gladys checked “Elsie and said get changed and take all the things to catch hens plus the egg basket. We are bringing them all into the house. I will come and help later for the sheep”. As she was getting changed, Gladys was inspecting Daisy.

She noticed two large pimples on ker back, both near her spine. She turned her to the light and saw that the red area around them seemed larger than usual and the tip was very dark coloured. Her face changed from its usual happy fairly wrinkled expression to a stone face. “On your way out ask your father to come up”, she said in a flat voice. Elsie nodded. “Daisy said you don’t mean daddy will see me naked”? “That’s exactly what I do mean. I know its not usual, but you surely don’t think he has not seen a naked girl before”. Tom arrived and she beckoned him around Daisy’s back and pointed. He looked closely and straightened up. “Yes”? He nodded. “You deal with it please, its beyond me, her voice cracking”. “Get dressed in your warmest things and meet me outside the front door and then I will explain everything”, Tom said. Daisy looked very worried, something was wrong, but she didn’t know what.

Tom said “I’ll wait until I see if there is any more”. Gladys nodded and continued her inspection. The room was slowing turning back to grey. Fortunately there seemed nothing suspicious. She said to the kids “now get dressed quickly and go and help Elsie with the hens and no larking about, this is serious”. Once they had left, she was going to strip off the sheets and pillow case and burn them. It was a forlorn hope, but Daisy had slept in them last night. As she was doing this, a movement caught her eye.

She glanced up startled and then stood transfixed. The movement was a black tear drop shape running down the wall, now a mid grey everywhere. It disappeared behind the bedhead and then shortly after and other appeared from just under the ceiling. The place where they were running down was right over the place where Daisy usually slept. She gave a muffled scream and ran to her bedroom. She had instinctively known that Daisy would die, but now the Cottage had picked up on it and knew as well. How was she going to explain that to the kids? She laid sobbing on her own bed, clawing at the bed clothes in her distress.

Tom was outside talking to Daisy. “Before I explain things, have you talked to somebody recently that you don’t normally talked to, excluding those in the church yard this morning”? Daisy screwed up her face thinking. “Yes, Friday. when I went to take some things to the Window’s place for Dick and Rosy”. “What happened? On the way back I saw the Munford’s girl sat on the front step, looking forlorn. She’s about my age, so I asked her what was troubling her. She was fed up, she kept getting asked to go outside as her parents were talking to their visitors about adult things, much more than usual”. “Where were here visitors from”? “Saint something or other, they are so many of them, I never remember”. “Would it be Saint Alban’s”? “Yes, I think it was that”. Tom sighed inwardly. Although he had never been, he knew that you had to go through it to get to London. Everybody knew that most of their problems came from London. So their village had already got the plague from there.

“You weren’t in the church, Daisy, and the Mayor had some very grave news”. “What was that daddy? “A very bad illness is coming. It is one that one person can give to another. If somebody gets it they don’t often recover”. Silence. “Do I have it daddy”, in a very quite voice”? “I’m afraid so”. “Then you are standing too close, you must stand further away or you may get it”. Tom was glad of an excuse to step back and did so. He had been trying to avoid breathing in from her direction by pretending to scan round at what was going on. “So I had to put on my warmest things, as I cannot go back in the house in case I give it to everybody”? “I’m afraid so”.

“That means I have to sleep in the hay V alone in the dark”! “You will have the horses for company”. Sniffs were the reply. “I’m very sorry sweetheart, but that’s the way it has to be. Of course we will leave food out for you at our normal eating times” Tears were now running down her face. “Am I going to die, daddy”? “Only God knows that, you must pray very long and hard to Him”. “I see, ok I’ll go and sit by the pond and talk to the fish until everybody has finished with the Hay V business”. Tom could not avoid raising his eyebrows.

Daisy said, in a brittle voice. “Fish are the sign of Christ. If I talk to them I will also be talking to him. Right now I am very, very scared. I do understand that I have to be left out, but that does not make it any easier. Please now go about your business . Dick and Rosy are arriving”. Tom went to meet them at the gate. “Things are even more urgent. Daisy has the plague and its in the village. She is now excluded from the house. You can talk to her, but don’t go near her. For the moment I think she would prefer to be on her own”.

“Dick get on the horse, we have to hotfoot it to the mill and bring some sacks of grain back. Good afternoon Widow, sorry we have to rush off. Please go and comfort Gladys, she’s very distressed right now. You will have to sleep with us. Its just about big enough Dick and Rosy will take the sitting room, we’ll have to make a straw bed for them”. “Thank you for taking me as well Tom, we are very grateful”. “Time is pressing to achieve everything, there is no longer enough for the usual formalities, what is your name”?

“Maureen”. “Ok Maureen, for now this is your home, treat it as such”. “Thanks muchly Tom, be off with you then”. Tom called the carthorse over and he and Dick rode out. “Go a slow canter and I’ll try and get this heap of bones to follow”. Having been brow beaten into a canter, said heap of bones was thinking nauseous nose-bags, first I have to trot and now I have to canter, which I hardly remember how to do, what a day!

— — — —

Rosy and Maureen entered by the kitchen door and stopped short. “What’s happened to this, they both gasped”, looking at the mid grey colour”. “I’ve been several times and it was a nice pale lemon colour”, Maureen remarked, so this must be the house that the Vicar mentioned earlier in church”. “What house”? “The one that has an Angel looking over it”. “How can it be if it makes it so sad looking?” “That’s perhaps because Daisy has the plague. It seems all the kids are out getting hens so your mummil must be upstairs. Tom said she was very upset, lets go see her”. They collided at the bend in the stairs as Gladys was descending.

They had to descend before Glady’s got hugs, then Maureen said, “this is your house, so you’re in charge, I will only offer advice if you ask for it. What can we do to help”? “We need to accommodate at least 40 hens, the two sheep have to stay in the kitchen anyway”. “Ok, lets start with 10 per room. How many cocks are there”? “Five. Ok, one has to go, we can’t have two cocks in the same room, one will get killed anyway”. Gladys nodded,”so it will be part of dinner tonight”, then she realised they had not eaten any lunch.

“Rosy, in that cupboard is a large pan with some soup in it. Add water until its nearly full and start heating it on the stove, stir from time to time. Divide two loaves in to 12 pieces and put the extra piece in Tom’s place and lay the table”. “Yes, mummil”. Maureen eyed Glaldys, who seemed in rather a daze. “Why don’t I go and check on the best places for the birds”? “Good idea. Be prepared for a shock when you see the kids room. Black tears are running down the wall. That’s what they look like, its just colour, not wet”. Maureen crossed herself and said “glad you told me and left”. Rosy had gone ashen but continued her tasks.

The kids arrived with some hens, straw, and eggs. “This lady is called Maureen, but you must call her grandma — immediate tears in Maureen’s eyes — is in charge of the hens and eggs so you do what she says”, Glady’s announced. Maureen ordered “eggs on the table so they wont roll off, straw upstairs under the beds, but some under the stove, hens as well, but hold them until I get there.” Soon after Tom and Dick arrived from the mill, not only with the grain, but quite a lot of wood rafters from the fallen in roof and cordage as well, plus three hammers of different sizes. Rosy announced that the soup would be piping hot in ten minutes.

Tom said, “Dick you and Rosy move the cupboards in the sitting room in front of the windows and secure them with benches. if they are too heavy to move, take stuff out of them and put it back in after and then decide where you want your bed”. “But you will shut out the daylight”, Gladys protested. “You want daylight or burglars”? Gladys compressed her lips, but said nothing more. “Gladys, you’re in charge of food. You need to decide what vegetable can be picked now from the garden and get them picked. Consider that any we don’t we may lose, but if not they could grow further. When we start eating I will want to know how long we can last with what we’ve got, assuming normal use”.

“What is the wood for”, Gladys asked. “Since you mentioned wood, Maureen said, we need to bring in as much as we have space for”. Both Tom and Gladys looked at her in surprise. “No doubt you go out ever morning to replenish what you have used. That means that the door is open. People could be waiting out of sight to rush in at that moment”. Tom said, “well thought of, Maureen”. Gladys was feeling overwhelmed, so much to think of. Tom continued the wood is for barring the doors. After we have eaten I will be digging holes to take one end and we will wedge the other against a beam and secure it with cords. The front one, being more solid will have one cross behind it and the kitchen being more vulnerabale will have a double one”.

Activity was frenzied. At the impromptu meal, Gladys announced, “we have enouhg flour to make normal bread quantity for at least 8 weeks. With three extra people call that 7. w e have more than enough grain for the hens for at least that. With two hens a days, we can manage for 22 days. the problem is veg and potatoes. We normally supplement that with buy or exchange from outside. Unless we can pick more, that’s about 8 days max”. Tom said “and it we did everything as soup”? “With care, we could just about double that, but we would be eating below normal. We could all afford to lose some weight with the exception of the youngest, Rosy, and Maureen, whose already a bean pole”. Maureen cast him an indignant look. *

“What about the dogs”? “Lack of scraps from the Butcher, they will be reduced to bread and soup also in about 5 days”. “Ok, put them on half rations, that will make them more aggressive. They will stay outside in the garden. The kids will eat before the dogs, poor dogs. Toga will stay in the garden, once he’s inside, I’ll block up the hole in the hedge”. They all kept hard at it until after night fall. Tom had removed some panels from the upstairs cupboards and nailed them over the kitchen windows. Whilst its not very solid, it looks as solid as the windows of the sitting room.

Tom took the evening food for Daisy, calling to her in the dark until she arrived, guided by his voice. ‘I do have the plague she said, I feel as if I’m burning up and pimples seem to be arriving everywhere. It is said you must starve a fever. So take your food back, it will serve you all better than me. If God decides to preserve me it will make no difference and if not I will be gone by the day after tomorrow, so it will be wasted’. ‘Ohh sweetie, I’m so sorry you are alone to face this’.

‘So am I, but that’s the way it is. Goodnight daddy’ and she walked off. Tom returned to the house with the food, feeling empty inside. Everybody retired early. On and off Gladys had been talking to the Cottage. Please, please, do not show the tears in the kids bedroom, it would be too much for them. If you have to show them, make it in my bedroom. That turned out to be the case and nothing untoward occurred during the night.

After breakfast Tom said ‘we need to work out a routine for everybody. Clearly the kids cannot stay in the house all day, they will go nuts after a week. The sheep need at least 4 hours grazing. Dick and I will stand guard with a pitchfork each. Gladys and Rosy will also keep theirs to hand whilst they do the wood and veg stuff and take the air. Maureen can wander around if she wishes as well. Then its everybody back inside. We’ll see how it works out. If anybody comes to the gate, we’ll know by the dogs barking, they don’t bark at passers by’. That seemed to work out well enough and was generally their daily pattern in the days that followed.

The thing that Tom remarked on was that Daisy did not turn up for her food. That raised the problem of what do do. She may be now too weak to walk. She may already be dead, if not today then tomorrow. They could not just leave her lying there, she had to be buried. He secretly fed Toga the food, it was already showing signs of aggression towards the family and the sheep. That was a looming problem that would also have to be resolved. He brought the problem of Daisy up over dinner.

“Its unpleasant, but it needs discussing”, he said after everybody had finished. “I’m talking about Daisy. She is not coming for her food. So now we don’t know if she is still alive or dead. If she’s dead, then the cart will be passing tomorrow. We cannot just leave her there as fodder for the crows. What do you think should be done”? Elsie said in a loud and determined voice. “She is not going on that cart. I will not permit it”. Everybody just looked at her open mouthed. Even if now unofficially the eldest, to lay down the law to her family like that was unheard of. All eyes swung to Tom to see how he would react.

It took him a while to recover — he had noticed her defiant posture, for an outburst like that she obviously felt very strongly about this. He said, “but she has to be buried, what would you suggest? We bury her just in front of the privvy. I’m sure Grandma will know the right words to say, she must have been to many funerals in her time. We can make a wooden cross to place there. That way when we go we will be reminded of her”. But it has to be consecrated ground, Tom objected. “Of course, then the Cottage Angel will consecrate it. Surely nobody has forgotten it coloured the front path red, so it can influence the ground”. Tom realised that Elsie had considered the problem already.

“Rosy, as not emotionally attached to Daisy, what is your opinion and please speak freely”? “If it was my sister I would feel the same. The consecrated ground burial is a must, even if its a common grave. The fact that it is special here with an Angel means that it can be done here, so I agree with Elsie”. “Maureen”? “I do too”. “Anybody object”? Nobody did. ‘That leaves the problem of how we are going to know if she has died and then how to move her’. Elsie said ‘I will do it. I will take a pitchfork, if she does not react to a prick from it, we can assume she is dead and I don’t need to touch her if she is not. if she is I come back and tell you, you pass me something to use as a winding sheet and the grave is dug. The cross can be held together with cordage if necessary. When all is ready I will return with her and place her in the grave.

I will stand by the cross and everybody else at the other end. I know I cannot be admitted for the two days after that. If I stop coming for food, then you know I have then got it as well. What happens then is up to you’. Gladys was wearing her stone face, but tears were streaming as she got up and walked round to Elsie. She kissed her on the crown of the head and in a shaky voice said ‘Thank God for such a brave and principled girl and rushed from the room. Tom and Maureen followed suit. One by one the kids followed as well, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek and Elsie was left alone with her thoughts and the kitchen walls started to turn green.

So that was how poor Daisy was laid to rest the next day. Over the next three days after that Gladys spend quite a lot of time talking to the cottage in her head. She pleaded for a sign that the burial place was consecrated, it was very important to them, they could not be really at peace if it was not, particularly as they would see it everyday.

She also said, even if you are supposed to reflect how we feel, its not good all the time. Now it seems we are living in a tomb, very grey walls and little light. Just that alone makes us sad. You should know that the outside does not have to mirror the inside. That confused the Cottage, it was not sure how to deal with it, the inside did not have to be the same as the outside. It finally worked out that what it was doing was changing the appearance of things, how they looked, to correspond to what the person felt on the inside. But an appearance was not always the same as what was felt.

Three things happened on the fourth day. Toga had to be put down, he was getting much too aggressive with the family. We simply cannot afford to give him a hen a day so that he has enough meat. Tom had held it whilst Dick had it it very hard on the head with a large stone. Tom reflected that normally Dick would have rather shirked at doing that and perhaps not hit hard enough. The boy was fast becoming a man. He understood the duty to protect his family and also his relatives. Gladys took care of preparing it for the cooking pot, though Tom declined the meal that night.

Before that Rosy had been the first to head for the privvy that morning. She had not gone too far, when she started yelling “come and see, come and see”! Of course everybody rushed over and by then Rosy was kneeling beside the grave in a position of prayer. When they saw it they all joined her. Elsie, who had not caught anything, was particularly fervent. The grave area was covered with daisies and the rough wooden cross was now a large white one that would have done any graveyard proud. Tom said “its a miracle, daisies simply do not grow in late autumn”. The Cottage actually blushed rose at the feeling they generated, which everybody noticed.

Just as they were thinking of going for lunch, plantive cries for help were heard coming from the front gate accompanied by barks from Foxy. It sounded like a young girl. “I’m not going to ignore that”, said Gladys. Tom said, “we’ll come with you, it could be a trap”. Both he and Dick carefully scanned the hedges for signs of someone hiding behind them, but there seemed to be no one. They could make out the shape of a girl through the bars of the gate. Foxy was recalled by Gladys. “What’s your name”, she called from 10 paces away? “Dawn Wilson”. “How old are you”?”11". “What’s your problem”?

“Tuesday, I caught a feverish chill. My parents threw me out even though I had no black boils. I’ve had no black boils either. Nobody will give me food or shelter. I’ve knocked on ever door of the village and they all say the same. You cannot come in and we have not enough food for ourselves. So I decided to come and see if I could find something at a farm, but I have no strength to go further”. She fell to her knees, sobbing “please help me”. Tom moved closer and said stand back far enough so we can see you, so she got up and took some paces back.

She did indeed look a forlorn sight, matted lank hair, scratched face arms and legs with scraped knees, probably trying to get through hedges, tattered dress, quite the waif in fact. Gladys went upto Tom. “We simply cannot turn her away”, she whispered, “the poor thing is all in. She could use the Hay V until we are certain she has nothing”. Agreed, “but there is a risk. We can offer you shelter in our hay V and also food but there is a risk. Our own daughter was there with the plague until it took her.

We cannot be sure it is not still there”. “Oh, I know you have the plague from the black you tied to you gate. I don’t care any more, I cant walk much further, I will end up dying beside the lane”. “Dick run in and get a large slice of cake”, Gladys ordered. “Put it on the end of your pitchfork and pass it to her”. The girl took it and wolfed in down like a hungry animal. Gladys said to Tom, the poor thing will never be able to open or climb the gate, she will have to come through the garden and go through the hole in the hedge. Tom sighed and started undoing the cordage that fastened the gate. “Keep stood back, you will have to go through a hole in our hedge to get to the hay V. Do not try to approach anybody, it will be the worse for you”, making a jabbing motion with his pitchfork.

When the gate was partially opened he could see the black material tied to it. “Who put that there, he asked”? Maureen said “I did. I always wear black to go the church and a black underskirt to go with it. So I used some of the underskirt. I thought that it would help keep people away”. “It certainly seems to have worked, as nobody has troubled us, clever idea”, Tom complimented her.

The girl came though the gate, walking with some difficulty and said “thank you both so much, you are a real Godsend, though why your Cottage is crying I don’t know”. That caused everybody to look back. The upstairs windows were black holes with the black tear drops running down from them. Even the eaves seemed to be drooping. The girl trudged towards where Gladys was pointing, having removed the board, and scrambled through the hole on hands and knees. “You may prefer to wait nearby, rather than go and return. Lunch will be ready soon. It will be a large bowl of soup with some bread to dip in it, the same as we eat”. “That would be really super”, she managed a tired smile. “I will wait. I was not lying when I said I’m too weak to go much further” and she sank to the ground and Gladys replaced the board.

So that was how two days later the girl joined the family at the table, having been thoroughly checked before hand by Gladys. She had then been ministered to in the kitchen by Elsie and Gladys, washing her, tending to her many scratches, dressing her in some under-things and a dress. She remarked “I almost feel reborn. You are indeed a Godsend”. Strange remark, Gladys thought, that’s almost like a message. During the meal one of the kids asked Dawn when her birthday was. “12th of June, 11 years ago”. There was a clatter as spoons dropped into bowls from nerveless fingers. Dawn looked horrified, what could she possibly have said wrong that everybody was staring at her like that? Maureen leaned over and whispered in the ear of the child next to her. He said “Its exactly the same as our Daisy’s birthday”. Maureen then said to Dawn, “its not your fault, dear, you weren’t to know”.
— — — —

Little conversation ensued after Dawn’s revelation about her birthday. “Ok kids, off to bed, Elsie remain here. I’m sorry Maureen, Dick and Rosy, but this is a private discussion between the three of us”. “No problem” Maureen said and proceeded upstairs after the kids. Dick and Rosy retired to the sitting room. “Dawn please wait outside, as this discussion concerns you” and she also left. Tom said nothing, he was wondering what Gladys was upto. “Elsie how do you feel about the situation with the kids now that Daisy is no longer with us”, Gladys asked? “It does seem curious. Normally if one is absent for a while, we all cuddle up and make space for them when they return. That it not happening, nobody seems to wish to occupy Daisy’s place”.

“Have you any idea why, Elsie”? She shook her head, “not really, except the situation is unbalanced, two females against three males, even if Dick is not longer present directly. In addition the bed adapts to the person occupying their place. It does not seem to welcome somebody in a different place”. She shrugged lamely. “How would you feel if Dawn occupied that place”? Tom’s eyebrows shot up. “Elsie said she cannot be a replacement for Daisy”. “I know, nobody can replace her in our hearts, but there its still space to love another. Elsie asked “you mean a kind of substitute and not a replacement. That is more or less what I mean”. Elsie looked at Tom. Tom said, “not so fast Gladys, we are not the parents of Dawn”.

“True, but common Law decrees that if a parent refuses their child, then, whoever takes care of it become the legal parents”. Tom nodded, “true enough. Elsie”? “She is obviously in need of a family. On that basis I would accept her. But there is not just me in the bed, I would need to talk to the kids to see if they would take her as well, I would not go against their wishes”. “That is as it should be, so might you go and ask them then”? “Of course, but it may take a while”. “No problem, meanwhile I can discuss with Tom”.

After she left, Tom said, “I’m not too clear on what you are trying to achieve Gladys”. She replied, “I look at two facts. She used the word Godsend twice in our respect. Its not a normal word for her child of her age”. Tom nodded. “Secondly, there is the amazing coincidence that she is born on the same day, which gobstopped us all, except Maureen, as she did not know Daisy’s birthday”.

“I agree that it troublesome”. Gladys continued,” we are not aware of all the powers of the Cottage, the daisies and the cross on the grave you classed as a miracle and so do I”. “So what would you conclude”? “That the Cottage arranged Dawn to help fill the hole that Daisy left. That’s also my thinking, so what do you say”? “The future problems or blessings that may bring are not foreseeable. Therefore I am neither for it nor against it. So we accept the children’s decision on it, their instinct is pure and therefore sure”! Tom nodded. Not long after, Elsie returned. “Surprisingly, their decision was a unanimous yes”.

“Ok, Dawn is waiting outside, invite her in to share your bed”. Elsie looked very surprised. “Why me”? “Because then you show that you have the authority to do that, so she will then heed what you tell her”. Ahhh, and she went out.

The days passed, as did the plague, and the village finally recovered some semblance of life. When 24 days had passed the first Church service took place. Dawn insisted on going into the church. “But that’s not normal for your age”. “I know, newmum, but I have something to say and I will not be denied. If I have to yell it out outside after the service, then I will”. Gladys looked at Tom, “who said, let her be”. The vicar recounted that almost 40 people had succumbed to the plague, meaning that most families had suffered a loss. Regrettably the Munfords had deceased in their entirety. When the service was clearly about to end, Dawn piped up in a clear and penetrating voice.

“Reverend, I wish to say a few words, better here than outside where too young ears may hear”. “Very well, we are listening, errr… what is your name”? “Dawn, Reverend. I wish to testify to the charity of the Miller family. In spite of the very sad loss of their middle, daughter, Daisy, to the plague, they took me in when I was on my last legs. Tended to me, succoured me, and took me into the bosom of their family when they had no need.

I am a witness to the fact that their Cottage is indeed overlooked by an Angel. I have seen it cry. I have seen it produce a field of Daisies over her grave and turn a rough wooden cross into a white one worthy of the Gentry. They should have their charity noted in the doings of the Church” and she sat down.” It will be done”, said the Vicar, above the rising hubbub.

People were generally still reluctant to get too close to each other, they stood a couple of yards apart. Tom and Gladys were besieged with requests to visit. “Certainly, but know two things, we cannot deal with you all at once, so decide between yourselves, not more than 10 a day including kids. An eleventh will be turned away. The first visit is free, after that there will be a charge to cover the work necessary to keep the cottage and surrounds in good shape”.

Gladys dream started to become true, the flow of visitors after the word had spread beyond the village increased almost daily. The resources available in the Cottage itself were no longer upto it after little more than a year. They bought the farmers field next to it where they had had their hay V and got constructed a big Inn, called the Angle Cottage Inn, with many tables outside, employing several people from the village. Elsie ran the establishment and Dawn did the cooking with the aid of two kitchen maids. They shared a room and there were 7 other guest rooms with a huge bed and little else.

Tom had learned to make ale and the middle lad was now dealing with the hives for the mead. Gladys remarked that “Toms belly was getting too big. Its all that ale you drink”. “Can’t be helped, I have to taste it to make sure its right”. That earned him rolled eyes. The room above the mill have been repaired and was occupied by Dick and Rosy, who was now expecting a second child. Surprisingly the carthorse was still going. Tom put it down to it eating grass in the front garden of the Cottage quite often. He helped Dick out more with advice than anything else when a big load came in to be ground and often took his first grandson back to the cottage for the day. Maureen now shared the bed with the only two children still living in the Cottage, helped with the grandson and such. She felt lucky to have lived beyond the normal years and have company and want for nothing.

After 8 years had passed, Tom said, after they had stayed downstairs after dinner, “we have enough gold to buy a fine town house and live in comfort”. Gladys looked at him. “We cannot do that, Tom”. “Why ever not”? “Because the Cottage is providing what we want, so in exchange we have to provide it with what it wants, or everything will collapse like a house of cards, as the Angel will leave”. “And what does it want then”? “That we continue to live in it”.

Tom frowned, “does that mean what it seems to mean”? “Yes, we have become its slaves, as it has the power and we do not. We are now dependent upon it for our living, like it or not. It must be the only place in the world where Daisies grow all the year round. We should comfort ourselves with the fact that, at least, the kids will benefit a great deal”. With a large thud, Tom’s elbows hit the table as he buried his face in his hands — his own dream would not come true.