The Rocking Stone by Jill Rutherford

Author:Jill Rutherford [Rutherford, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Little Wren Press
Published: 2018-06-13T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

We arrived back from our honeymoon at Tom’s house in time for dinner. It was a turning point that took me from my old life into the new one. His mother had prepared a mutton stew followed by apple tart and custard. It was delicious and I was ravenous, as if I hadn’t eaten all week. Tom remarked upon it.

‘I’ve had a very busy week, I’m hungry!’ I said quietly, looking into my pudding.

It made him blush and he lowered his head to his dinner and didn’t say another word. But really, I was just so pleased that the honeymoon was over and now our love life would be constrained by work demands and the presence of his mother. I relaxed and recovered my appetite.

The house was just the same as every other one on the Graig – small, two up and two down with a narrow passageway joining up the rooms. We lived mostly in the square back room which doubled as the kitchen. We kept the front room for guests and would never have dreamt of living in there ourselves. The gas cooker was in the corner of the back room with a small low cupboard next to it which contained plates and cutlery with a few shelves above it for tins and dried food. The washing bowl was kept on top of the cupboard and the water tap was outside the back door. There were two old brown leather armchairs in the corners, either side of the fireplace, one for Mrs Mallow and the other which Tom and I had to share. This meant, of course, that when Tom was in, he had the armchair and I had to make do with a wooden kitchen chair. I would never have dreamt of sitting in Mrs Mallow’s.

*

As Tom went off to work for his first day as a married man he was full of smiles. ‘I’m looking forward to my bath tonight. Don’t forget your promise to massage me wherever I want,’ he whispered as he stood in the doorway. We laughed.

‘Well, let’s see . . . how about your toes?’

‘I can think of a much better place than that.’

‘What are you two whispering about?’ Mrs Mallow said disapprovingly, as she came down the stairs. I think she was jealous.

‘Nothing!’ we said in unison like children caught doing something naughty. Tom winked at me and gave me a kiss and kissed his mother on the cheek as he left but she looked dour.

Later in the afternoon, I told Mrs Mallow that I would start to cook Tom’s rice pudding. Like many a miner, he always had a bowl of rice pudding when he came in from work as he was so hungry he couldn’t manage his bath without some nourishment. The pudding was soft and easy to digest so many miners’ wives cooked it for their husbands and sons.

‘Don’t you worry about that, I’ll do it,’ Mrs Mallow said.

‘But I’m his wife now. It’s my duty to cook it.

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