‘Yes. This could have been very nasty, but he’s come through, I believe.’
‘God bless you, Alec.’
‘He’s a bright lad, isn’t he? He’s six, you said.’
‘Almost seven, now.’
‘Advanced for his age.’
‘That’s what I think, although mothers always believe their children are exceptional, don’t they?’
‘Regardless of the truth, yes.’ Alec laughed. ‘I’ve noticed that.’
‘So he’s well again.’
‘But I want you to keep him at home now for three weeks. Don’t let him play games or do anything energetic. He mustn’t fall and hit his head.’
‘I’ll make sure of that.’
‘But after three weeks let him return to normal.’
‘I’m so grateful to you. You know I can’t pay you.’
‘I’ll send my bill to the squire, and hope for the best.’
He left. Sal put on her shoes and her hat, and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. The weather was still cold, but no longer freezing.
In the fields the men were starting the spring ploughing. People greeted her as she wended her way between the houses, and she said the same thing to each: ‘Going to fetch my Kit home from the manor house at last, praise the Lord.’ She walked fast. There was no real need to hurry but, now that Kit was about to be liberated, she could hardly wait.
She went in through the kitchen door, as usual, and up the back stairs. When she saw Kit standing in the bedroom, in the ragged clothes he had been wearing when he moved into the manor house, she burst into tears.
Still crying, she knelt on the floor and hugged him gently. ‘Don’t worry, I’m crying for happiness,’ she said. She was happy because he had not died, but she did not say that.
She pulled herself together and stood up. She noticed that Fanny was in the room, standing by the bed, and Sal hugged her too. ‘Thank you for being kind to my little boy,’ she said.
Fanny said: ‘It comes natural, he’s so lovely.’
Kit hugged Fanny, kissed her pimply cheek, and said: ‘I’ll come back soon to help you with the fireplaces and the boots.’
‘You take your time and get well,’ she said.
Sal took his hand and they left the bedroom – and there, on the landing, was Will.
Sal let out an involuntary cry of shock, then stood still for a frozen moment. She felt Kit squeeze her hand in fear. Then she curtsied, lowering her gaze so as not to look at him directly, and attempted to pass him without speaking.
He stood in her way.
Kit cringed back and tried to get behind Sal’s skirt.
‘Don’t bring him back,’ Will said. ‘The pup is no use.’
Sal suppressed her anger. Had Will not done enough? He had killed her husband and injured her child, and yet he still wanted to taunt her. In a voice barely controlled she said: ‘I shall do as I’m told by the squire, of course.’
‘The squire will be glad to get rid of the little runt.’
‘In that case we will leave you now, sir. Good day to you.’
Will did not move out of the way.
