Free A Dream Rides By by Tania Anne Crosse Page A

continued, smiling politely.
    Mrs Franfield’s head seemed to retract into her neck as she glanced at Ling with utter disdain, but Ling determinedly held her gaze, glad that her height allowed her to look down into the woman’s face. She was as good a human being as anyone, and after a few moments her tenacity was rewarded with a questioning frown.
    A kernel of hope took seed in Ling’s breast. ‘I’m Heather Southcott,’ she announced confidently. ‘I met your son at the opening of the Princetown Railway. Perhaps he mentioned me? I had a . . . a little accident, and he took care of me.’ Her words trailed off under the woman’s frozen stare.
    ‘I’m sorry, child,’ Elliott’s mother said at last. ‘I vaguely remember my son going to witness the event, but only because he did not have the courtesy to return in time for dinner. We were entertaining distinguished guests, and I had specifically requested his presence. And Elliott’s always helping people, so I’m afraid you are merely one of many.’
    One of many
. The phrase echoed in Ling’s skull. But surely not. If that was so, Elliott would hardly have spent the entire day and evening with her. And it was not every day you rescued someone from beneath the wheels of a steam engine! Elliott himself must remember, even if his mother did not – or
would
not – recall the event.
    ‘Nevertheless, I’m surprised he did not mention it,’ she continued stubbornly, ignoring the irritation on the woman’s face. ‘And I should be pleased to know how he is progressing in London. I am a school teacher, you see.’ Well, she had to make an impression in
some
way, didn’t she? ‘So I should be eager to have some first hand knowledge of the capital to relate to my pupils. Perhaps you would be kind enough to tell Elliott that I should be delighted to receive some correspondence from him? Anything addressed to the school at Foggintor will reach me.’
    ‘All right, child.’ Mrs Franfield forced a smile to her frosty lips. ‘I shall be travelling to London next week to ensure my son’s lodgings are satisfactory, and I shall make a point of passing on your message. Now, if you would excuse me . . .’
    ‘Thank you so much, Mrs Franfield! And I’m so sorry to have kept you.’
    Constance Franfield dipped her head as she swept out of the station. She had no intention of speaking to Elliott about the brazen little trollop, but she had had to say something to get rid of her. Persistent monkey! It was bad enough Elliott wanting to become a doctor in the first place. It was only her husband who had managed to persuade her that it was a respectable profession. That, if they agreed to his training in London, he would hopefully remain in the capital and become physician to people of class and influence. She certainly didn’t want him fraternizing with the likes of that hussy who had publicly accosted her at the station!
    Whatever next?

Nine
    It seemed that Christmas Day was upon them before they knew it, and Ling stepped outside her parents’ cottage on Barney’s arm. It was a beautiful frosty morning, the sun twinkling on the icy crystals that encrusted the grass crunching beneath their feet as they walked the few yards to the little chapel-cum-school. Ling glanced up at Barney and felt the peace settle in her breast as he returned her smile.
    Everyone was cramming into the small building that rang with Yuletide greetings, and then Mr Warren, who was the manager of the quarry but also the chapel preacher, raised his arms to silence the congregation, who swiftly obeyed, giving him their full attention. The service was relatively short, punctuated by voices uplifted in song as carols were rendered with happy gusto, and the sermon was as bright and optimistic as the sunshine outside.
    There was a queue to leave, people pausing to shake Mr Warren’s hand and wishing each other a merry Christmas. When Ling finally emerged into the stingingly cold air, she saw that Seth