Daniel looked at her in a way that made her forget the dangers of stepping into the unknown

Sarah’s steps slowed as she approached the brow of the hill that led down to the stream and the clump of alders. Would Daniel be there, in the usual place, after her long absence?

She stopped, all at once unsure, the damp grass striking chill into her feet. It had all seemed so simple as Jess had explained her plan for this evening, as she had put on her best dress and brushed her hair up into the butterfly clasp that had been Daniel’s gift to her.

She shivered.

The sun had begun to shine again after days of rain, but it had lost its summer warmth. Soon, the summer would end.

Sarah willed herself to walk on quickly, and as she breasted the brow of the hill, she looked down and there he was.

He was leaning against a tree, aimlessly tossing pebbles into the stream.

She began to run, calling his name.

For a long time, they stood there, entwined in each other’s arms, Daniel murmuring endearments.

“Daniel, I’m sorry to have been away so long,” she cried. “I can explain.”

Sarah looked up at him at last. He put a finger on her lips to silence her.

“I know all about it, Sarah. News travels fast. When I heard that your father had left but you had stayed behind at Brodies’, I had hopes...”

Silence

His voice shook a little as he studied her face. There was an uncertain silence for a moment or two.

“Foolish hopes, maybe,” he laughed nervously, “but...” There was enquiry in his voice.

Sarah smiled up at him. “I have a surprise for you. I’ve told Jess about you. She had her suspicions since that day at the Gowan Fair, Daniel. She’ll keep our secret.”

“And the surprise?”

He smiled at her.

“She says we can meet at the cottage.” She took Daniel’s hand. “We can go now if you’ve a mind to.”

“Aye.” Daniel took off his jacket and put it round Sarah’s shoulders. “It’s cold for you out here, Sarah. The summer’s nearly done.”

Jess greeted them as if it was the most natural thing in the world, plied them with tea, then took herself off to another room.

“Sandy’ll be late home the night,” she told them before she withdrew.

“I’m goin’ to meet him later on, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

There was no answer from the visitors.

Jess smiled to herself as she left them, hands touching across her little table, voices scarcely louder than whispers, engrossed in each other.

Later, Sarah couldn’t remember how they had reached the subject of Daniel’s family, but she recalled how his face had hardened when he spoke of his father.

“He’s a bitter man,” he told Sarah.

“He lets his bitterness spill over now and then. It’s hard for Mother and our Katy. Maybe some day I’ll be able to put things right for them.”

He had sighed then, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Life story

Gently, Sarah had prompted him, coaxed his life story from him.

His father, Geraint Morrison, was Welsh, a miner in the valleys at first, but branded a hothead and an agitator when he had led a strike there.

He had lost his job and the family had moved from place to place as he found work in other pits, only to lose it as he spoke out against what he saw as the injustice of the pit owners directed at the men who worked for them.

“I wanted to be a mining engineer,” Daniel told Sarah, holding on to her hand.

“It was fine for a while when we were out at the other side of Edinburgh,” he continued. “Katy and I got schooling for a while. I even started learning about mining drawing.”

He had stopped speaking for a while then. Sarah patiently waited.

“Then there was trouble – or the threat of it. Father was blamed. We moved here, and the only work he could get was out at the canal.

“He was loading coal on to the barges, that kind of thing. Casual work.”

A long silence had fallen. When Daniel spoke once more, he managed a smile.

“I’ve Mary Ellen to thank for getting me steady work. I met her out at the Junction one day and we got talking. She got me the job at Langrigg and gave me a place to stay. A new start.”

“You could still be a mining engineer.” Sarah tried to encourage him.

“You might have to take a longer road to it, but –” At that, Daniel clasped her hands tighter.

“All I need is the right companion on the journey,” he said, looking at her in a way that made her forget the dangers of stepping into the unknown.

They talked on, long after Jess had gone in search of Sandy.

The fire had burned low in the hearth when at last Sarah glanced at the clock on the mantel.

“I’ll have to get back to the farmhouse,” she said. Little was said as Daniel walked with her to within sight of the Brodies’ farm.

Nothing was said as he held her at arm’s length, his gaze intense.

“Please don’t go, Sarah,” he said suddenly.

“I have to go, Daniel, or Mrs Brodie will be worried. It’ll soon be dark.”

Sarah’s reply was hurried, her departure swift. For a moment or two, Daniel watched her.

She had misunderstood what he’d said and, walking back to Langrigg, deep in thought, he was glad of it.

After all, he told himself, how could he ask a girl like Sarah to forget about a new life in Edinburgh when he had so little to offer her?

Anger welled up in him at the thought.

“I’ll find a way,” he said to the darkening sky.

The note

Sarah had almost lost track of time when the note from Mary Ellen was delivered.

While Sarah read it, the messenger perched on a stool in the farmhouse kitchen.

“I’ve no’ to go back withoot an answer,” he’d told her firmly.

The schoolroom is finished. We would be obliged if you could come to see that it is in order. Hoping that

you are well, the note read.

Sarah felt a pang of guilt. For more than a week now, the days had merged one into another in sunlit sameness, divided between helping Mrs Brodie and taking long rambles with Jess most afternoons, her evenings devoted to Daniel.

The ache she had felt at losing her home had gone; she did not think of the summer’s end or of Edinburgh.

For her, time had stood still and she had lived for the moment.

She had all but forgotten about the schoolroom in Langrigg.

Hurriedly, she penned a reply.