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6.Breakfast in the hayfield
When Geoffrey woke, a cold morning light was coming  into the shed. 
Outside, a heavy mist lay across the field, hiding the trees and the hedges.
The woman was sleeping in his arms, and he held her gently, staring out into the mist, still full of wonder and love. 
He would never be afraid or lonely again, with her beside him.
Then he looked down at her, and saw that she was open-eyed, watching him. 
She had golden-brown eyes, that immediately smiled into his. 
He also smiled, and softly kissed her.
After a time, he asked shyly, ‘What's your name?’[]‘Lydia,’ she said.
‘Lydia,’ he said slowly, liking the sound of it. ‘My name's Geoffrey. Geoffrey Wookey.’
She smiled at him, and for a while they were silent.
‘We couldn't get married, could we.’ he asked.[]‘No.’
He thought deeply about this for some time. ‘Would you go to Canada with me?’
‘Perhaps you'll think differently in two months' time,’ she replied quietly.
‘I'll think the same. I won't change,’ he said, hurt.
She watched him. She would not push him, would not hurry him. 
She would stay with him, but he must decide, he must do what he wanted.
‘Haven't you got any family?’ he asked.
‘A married sister at Crick. I can go there, if you want me to. I'll get a job on a farm perhaps.’
‘And then, in the spring, we'll go to Canada. You will come with me, won't you?’ he said, hopefully.
‘When the time comes.’ She did not trust him yet, and he understood why.
‘I'll give you some money before you go to Crick,’ he said. ‘You'll go past our farm on your way.’
‘I don't need it. I've got some money.’
Her answer worried him. Perhaps she didn't need him or his help. He began to feel afraid. 
‘Can I write to you? What name shall I use?’[]‘Mrs Bredon.’
‘Your married name!’ he said, with a short, hard laugh. ‘I'll never see you again, will I?’
She put her arms round him and held him. There were tears in her eyes, but he was still worried, unsure.
Outside the mist was getting thinner. 
He remembered Maurice then, and told her about him.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘You must go and put the ladder up for them, you must!’
‘All right. But wait here, and see Maurice. Then I can tell him about us.’
She agreed to wait, and he went out to the haystack. 
There was no sound from above, and he could see nothing. 
He put the ladder back up in the same place, and then went along the hedge, looking for firewood.
Then he heard Maurice's voice. ‘Well, look at that!’
‘Look at what?’ That was the girl. ‘The ladder- oh! You said it fell down!’
‘It did,’ said Maurice. ‘Well, I heard a bang, and I couldn't see the ladder, or feel it.’
‘You said it fell down- and it wasn't true!’
‘It was true—’ he began.[]‘Not true, not true!’ she cried. 
‘You are bad, a mean person- mean, mean, mean!’ She was wildly angry.
‘All right then!’ Maurice was also angry now. ‘Are you coming down?’
‘No! I will not come with you. You are mean- you tell me untrue things. I don't want you!’
Geoffrey, looking through the hedge, saw Maurice on the ladder. 
He climbed down, then stood at the bottom. ‘Come on. I'll hold the ladder for you,’ he called.
‘No!’ she cried, like a wild cat. He waited for a while, but she did not come. 
‘Then stay there till you’re ready,’ he said quietly, and walked away. 
On the other side of the stack he met Geoffrey. ‘What are you doing here?’ he said.
‘I've been here all night,’ Geoffrey replied. ‘I came to help you with the cover, 
‘but the cover was on, the ladder was down, and I couldn't find you.’
‘Did you put the ladder up?’[]‘Yes, I did it just now.’
Maurice stood still, thinking. 
Geoffrey tried to find the words to tell him about Lydia. 
He began, stopped, began again, and at last told the story of his night.
‘Oh!’ said Maurice. He began to smile.
‘The man is nothing, just a tramp, but she's different,’ said Geoffrey. He wanted Maurice to understand.
‘You please yourself, what you do,’ said Maurice. He was quiet, worried, not like himself.
‘What's the matter?’ asked the older brother. 
It was strange to see Maurice like this, and for once Maurice was not laughing at him.
‘Nothing,’ said Maurice. They went together to the shed. 
The woman was putting the blanket away in the box. 
She was washed, and tidy, and looked very neat and pretty.
‘Hello,’ said Maurice. He smiled, shyly. 
‘It was good you found somewhere to get out of the rain last night.’[]‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘Can you get more firewood?’ Geoffrey asked him. 
It was a new thing for Geoffrey to ask Maurice to do something. 
Maurice agreed, and went out into the field. 
He did not go near the stack, afraid of meeting Paula.
At the shed Geoffrey was making a fire, while Lydia got out coffee and bread from the box. 
Breakfast was nearly ready when Paula arrived. 
She had no hat on, there were bits of hay in her hair, and she was white-faced. She did not look her best. 
‘Ah- you!’ she cried, seeing Geoffrey.[]‘Hello!’ he answered. ‘You’re out early.’
‘Where's Maurice?’[]‘I don't know, he'll be back soon.’
Paula was silent. ‘When did you come?’ she asked.
‘Last night, but I didn't see anybody. I got up just now, and put the ladder up, ready to take the cover off.’
Paula understood, and was silent. 
When Maurice returned with some wood, she was warming her hands at the fire. 
She looked up at him, but he would not look at her. 
Geoffrey met Lydia's eyes, and smiled. 
Maurice held out his hands to the fire.
‘You are cold?’ asked Paula, softly.
‘A bit,’ he answered, friendly but not too friendly.
The four of them sat round the fire, drinking their smoky coffee, eating their bread and cheese. 
All the time Paula watched Maurice's face hopefully, and he watched the fire. 
He was gentle, but he would not look at her. 
And Geoffrey smiled and smiled at Lydia, who watched him with her golden-brown eyes, and did not look away.
The German girl got back into the vicar's house that morning, and her night out in the hayfield stayed a secret. 
A week later, she was engaged to Maurice, 
and when her last three weeks with the vicar's family were finished, she came to live at the Wookey farm.
Geoffrey and Lydia stayed true, one to the other.

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5.A meeting in the dark
While Geoffrey lay there, thinking about his life,
he suddenly heard a sound that was not the rain. 
Something was in the shed, moving towards him. 
For a second, terror filled him, then he jumped up, and caught the thing with his great hands.
It did not fight, just gave a small, unhappy cry. ‘Let me go,’ said a woman's voice.
‘What do you want?’ he asked, angrily.
‘I thought he was here.’ She began to weep, quietly.
‘Who? Who did you think was here?’ he said.
‘My husband. He was here at dinner-time. You saw him.’ 
She tried to pull away from his hands. ‘Let me go.’
‘It's you!’ said Geoffrey, in surprise. ‘Are you looking for that dirty little tramp that was here at dinner?’ 
He still held her with both hands, but more gently now. ‘Where did he leave you?’
‘I left him- here,’ she said. ‘I've seen nothing of him since.’
Geoffrey gave a short laugh. ‘That's a good thing, isn't it? Why would you want to see him again?’
‘He's my husband- and he's not going to run away if I can stop him.’
Geoffrey was silent, not knowing what to say. ‘Your clothes are wet,’ he said at last.
‘That's not surprising, is it, in this rain? But he's not here, so I'll go.’
‘You're cold, aren't you?’ said Geoffrey. ‘I can feel it. You're shaking with cold.’
She did not answer. He did not know what to say.
‘Wait a minute.’ He found his bicycle lamp, lit it, and shone the light on her. 
He saw a white, tired face. Her old sailor hat and her brown coat were black with rain. 
Drops of water fell from her wet skirt onto her shoes.
He looked worried. ‘You’re wet right through,’ he said. 
‘Why don't you stay in here until the rain stops?’ No answer.
‘You can take your wet things off, and put a blanket round you. 
‘There's a horse-blanket in the box here.’ He waited, but there was still no answer.
He put the lamp down, opened the wooden box, and took out a big grey blanket. 
‘Come on,’ he said, kindly. ‘Take your hat and coat off, and put this round you.’
Slowly, she took off her hat and coat and put the blanket round her. 
She was shaking all over with cold.[]‘Is something the matter with you?’ he said, worried.
‘I've walked to Bulwell and back,’ she said tiredly, ‘looking for him. 
‘I've eaten nothing since this morning.’ She did not weep- she was too tired, too miserable.
‘You've had nothing to eat?’ he said. He went back to the box. There was food in there- bread and cheese. 
He cut some bread and put a big piece of cheese on it.
She sat down on the end of the bed of hay, and slowly began to eat. 
Then he gave her a drink of water, and saw that she was still shaking. ‘Can't you get warm?’ he asked.
‘I will in a minute. Don't you worry. I'll go soon. I'm taking your seat- are you staying here all night?’
‘Yes. But you must stay, and get warm. I've got to go and see that the haystacks are all right. 
‘Take your wet things off, and get warm with that blanket round you.’
‘I'll go in ten minutes. This is your place, and I'm not going to push you out. It's not right.’
‘You’re not pushing me out,’ he said. ‘I'll come back when I've looked at the stacks.’
He went. A minute later, she put the lamp out. 
He stood between the stacks, listening. 
There was only the soft rain and the dark night all around him. 
Everything was still, silent, black- like death, he thought.
He found his way back to the shed and went in. ‘Are you all right?’ he said. 
He lit the lamp again. Her small face looked up at him, out of the grey blanket.
‘You don't need a lamp,’ she said. ‘Lie down and get your night's rest. I can sit at this end, out of your way.’
He put the lamp out, and sat down on the hay, at the other end. 
Then he asked, ‘Is he really your husband?’
‘He is!’ she answered, in a hard little voice.
‘Do you follow him because you like him?’ He was afraid to ask, but he wanted to know.
‘I don't- I wish he was dead.’ Her voice was coldly angry. Then, ‘But he's my husband.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘Not much of one,’ he said. ‘Have you been married long?’
‘Four years. Since I was eighteen.’
‘And do you just move about, all the time?’ he asked.
‘He says he's looking for a job. But he doesn't like work. 
‘He was a wagon-driver when I married him. He left that job when the baby was only two months old, 
‘and I've not had a kind word or a day's rest since then.’
‘And where's the baby?’[]‘It died when it was ten months old.’
After that they were silent. At last Geoffrey said slowly, ‘You've had a hard life.’ 
He looked at her, but saw nothing in the dark. ‘What will you do now?’
‘I'll find him. He's not going to get away.’
‘But why don't you leave him?’
‘Because he's not going to win.’
He listened to her hard voice, and felt miserable for her. 
He could not see her; they were just two voices in the black night.
‘Are you warm now?’ he asked, half afraid.
‘A bit warmer- but my feet are still terribly cold.’
‘I can warm them with my hands. Shall I?’
‘No, thank you,’ she said, coldly. Then she felt sorry. He was kind, he was trying to help. 
‘But they do hurt.’[]‘Put them in my hands, then.’
His large, strong hands closed round her icy feet and held them. 
She felt his warm breath on her toes.
‘Do they feel any better yet?’ he asked, after a while.
She did not answer. She put out her hand and touched his hair. 
His hand came up to find hers, but found her face, which was wet with tears. 
Gently, his fingers followed the tears down her cheeks.
‘What's the matter?’ he said, in his slow, deep voice.
She put out both her arms and pulled his head to her. 
Four lonely, miserable years were suddenly behind her; she was no longer old before her time. 
Suddenly, it was possible to hope again, to be young, to be happy. 
She wept long and silently, holding Geoffrey's head close to her, with her wild tears falling on his hair.
Geoffrey sat still, full of wonder, full of love. 
When at last she stopped weeping, he put his arms around her, gently. 
And in a while, they kissed, his first love kiss.

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4.At night in the hayfield
Geoffrey worked hard all afternoon, cutting the hay, while Maurice worked on the wagon. 
The brothers did not speak, but the feeling between them was warm and friendly. 
Geoffrey understood that their little fight would stay a secret- Maurice would not tell.
The sun got hotter and hotter. 
There was not a breath of wind, and everybody began to feel tired.
‘There's another day's work here,’ said the father at tea-time, while they sat under the tree.
‘Somebody will have to stay the night here then,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I'll do it.’
‘No, I'll do it,’ said Maurice.
‘You did it last night,’ said the father. ‘You must get some rest tonight.’
‘No, I'm staying,’ said Maurice.
‘He wants to meet his girl again,’ explained Henry.
The father thought about this. ‘I don't know...’ But in the end Maurice stayed. 
At eight o’clock, after sundown, the men got on their bicycles, the father got the wagon ready, and everybody left.
Slowly, the evening sky turned dark. 
The young man stood alone in the field, listening to the sounds of the night.
It was still hot, and from the hedges came the rich, sweet smell of wild flowers. 
Then the moon came out, catching the flowers in its light, 
and they shone like white ghostly faces against the dark of the hedge.
Higher on the hill, the farm horses, free for the night, were moving around the field. 
Maurice had an hour to wait before Paula came, 
and he decided to take a bath in the little river at the bottom of the fields.
He washed himself in the cold water, and it felt good on his warm body. 
Above him the tall trees by the river whispered in a little wind. 
‘How beautiful the night is!’ he thought. 
Laughing, he took a handful of white flowers from the hedge, and threw them over himself.
At nine o’clock he was waiting under the tree by the haystacks. He felt both excited, and afraid. 
She was late. At a quarter past nine she came, running across the field, as light and as quick as a bird.
‘Oh, their little girl would not go to sleep tonight,’ she cried. ‘I sat in that bedroom for an hour.’ 
She looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. ‘Ah, the night smells so good!’ She smiled.
She was full of life, quick and strong at the same time.
‘I want’- she could not find the English words- ‘I would like- to run- now!’
Maurice laughed. ‘Let's run, then,’ he said.
And in a second she was gone. Maurice ran after her, but he could not catch her easily. 
At last he caught her by the arm, and they stood together, laughing.
‘I can run faster,’ she cried happily. ‘Yes?’
‘No,’ he replied, with his deep little laugh. ‘No, you can't.’ 
They walked on across the field, and then suddenly saw the three farm horses in front of them.
‘We ride a horse?’ she said.[]‘Now?’ said Maurice. ‘In the dark?’[]‘Yes, yes,’ she cried, ‘in the dark!’
Maurice caught one of the horses, put the girl on the horse's back, then climbed up in front of her. 
She put her arms round his waist.
The horse walked uphill and at the top they stopped and looked round. 
Clouds were moving across the sky, hiding the moon and the stars. 
The night lay across the fields and hills like a great dark carpet, with here and there the little lights of a house or a farm.
Maurice could feel the girl's warm arms around his waist. 
‘Do you want to go back now?’ he asked.[]‘I stay with you,’ she answered softly.
Maurice gave a little laugh. He wanted to kiss her, but he was afraid to. 
The horse moved under them. ‘Let the horse go fast,’ said Paula. ‘Fast!’
‘All right then,’ Maurice said. He hit the horse's neck! ‘Come on, boy, let's go!’ he cried.
And away they went down the hill, faster and faster. 
It was a wild, dangerous, exciting ride. 
Maurice held on to the horse with hands and knees; 
Paula held on to Maurice, her arms around his waist, and her face against his strong, warm back.
At last the horse came to a stop. Paula half fell off its back, and Maurice quickly jumped down beside her. 
They were both laughing, and excited by their wild ride. 
And suddenly, he had her in his arms, and was kissing her. 
They did not move for some time. Then, silently, arm in arm, they walked to the haystacks.
The sky was now dark and heavy with cloud. 
Maurice looked up, and felt a drop of rain on his face.
‘It's going to rain,’ he said. ‘I'll have to put the cover on the new stack.’
He left Paula, and went to the shed in the corner of the field. 
He pulled out the big heavy cover and pulled it across the ground to the stack.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Paula.
‘Put it over the top of the stack, to keep the rain out.’
‘Ah!’ she cried. ‘Up there!’
Rain began to fall. It was very dark between the two great buildings of hay. 
Maurice put the long ladder up the side of the stack, and Paula stared up at the black wall of hay above her.
‘You carry the cover up there?’ she asked.[]‘Yes,’ said Maurice.
‘I must help you,’ she said. And she did. 
Maurice went first up the ladder, carrying one end of the cover, and Paula climbed up behind him, carrying the other end.
While they were climbing up the ladder, a light stopped on the road by the top field. 
It was Geoffrey on his bicycle. coming to help his brother with the cover for the haystack. 
Silently, he pushed his bicycle across the field to the shed. 
He was afraid to call out. If his brother was with the German girl, he did not want to surprise them together in the dark.
There was no one in the shed.
He walked across to the stacks and was nearly there when he heard a noise. 
The ladder was slowly falling down the side of the stack. It hit the ground with a bang.
‘What was that?’ he heard Maurice's voice, from the top of the stack.
‘Something fell,’ came the voice of the German girl.
Maurice lay down and looked over the side of the stack. 
‘It was the ladder!’ he said. ‘We knocked it down, when we were pulling the cover up.’
‘We're in prison up here?’ the girl said, excited.
‘Yes. But if I shout, they'll hear at the vicar's house.’[]‘Oh no,’ she said quickly.
‘I don't want to,’ he replied, with a short laugh.
He began to pull the cover across the top of the stack. 
Down below, Geoffrey moved quietly round the corner of the second haystack. He did not want them to see him. 
He heard Maurice's voice again. ‘One good thing, we won't get wet. We can sit under the cover.’
‘Maurice!’ said the girl. She sounded worried.
‘What is it?’ he said gently. ‘You'll be all right. Look, the cover's on now. We can sit under this corner.’
‘Will I be all right, Maurice?’[]‘Of course you will. 
‘But do you want to go back to the vicar's house? Shall I shout for somebody?’[]‘No. No, I don't want to go back.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asked.[]‘Yes, yes, I am sure.’ She laughed.
Geoffrey turned away at the last words, and walked back to the shed. 
The rain was now falling heavily. He felt miserable, and lonely.
In the shed he took the lamp off his bicycle and shone it round the walls. 
All the tools lay in one corner, and there was a big wooden box, and a deep bed of hay.
He put the lamp out and threw himself down on the hay.
‘I'll put the ladder up for them later,’ he thought. 
He lay there, thinking about his brother's luck, and the German girl, with her strange ways and her quick, bright laugh. 
‘Why does she like Maurice? Why doesn't she like me? ‘
‘No woman will ever love me,’ he thought miserably. ‘I'm too slow, I don't have the words.’

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3.The tramp and the woman
‘We're not going to finish that last bit of hay today,’ Henry said crossly.
The father still looked worried about Maurice. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I'm all right. I’ve told you.’
‘Then sit down and rest for a bit. In a while you can get the dinner out for us.’
The men went back to work, and the governess ran back to the vicar's house, to her job with the children.
Maurice sat down under a tree.
‘I'll marry her,’ he thought. ‘Yes, I will. I’ve got fifty pounds, and mother will help me.’
For a long time he sat there, thinking about married life.
Then he got up and went to get the dinner from the big wagon by the road.
The two fields belonged to the Wookey family, but they were four miles from the home farm.
So the father had to bring dinner and tea to the fields every day, and the workers ate there.
Cutting the hay usually took about two weeks, and somebody had to sleep in the field at night, to watch the tools.
Either Maurice or Geoffrey usually did this.
Mrs Wookey always sent a good dinner, and today was no different.
There were two big meat pies, cold potatoes, bread, and a great piece of cheese.
Maurice put the food out in the shade of a big tree.
Everybody sat down in a circle, and ate their meal.
It was good to be out of the burning sun, under the shade of the tree.
The men ate and drank silently, the father reading a newspaper, the others eating busily.
Then, ‘She's here again!’ said Bill. Everybody looked up.
Paula was coming across the field, carrying a plate.
‘She's bringing something for you, Maurice,’ said Henry, laughing at him.
Maurice was halfway through a great piece of meat pie and some cold potatoes.
The father laughed too. ‘Put that away, Maurice. She'll want you to eat what she's brought for you.’
‘Give it here,’ said Bill. ‘I'll eat it for you.’
Then Paula arrived. ‘I bring him some chicken- him!’ She gave Maurice a bright smile.
Maurice's face turned deep red, and everybody laughed aloud.
The father felt sorry for his shy son. ‘Come and sit here by me,’ he said to Paula.
‘Thank you,’ said Paula happily. She sat down next to the father and smiled at him.
‘My name,’ she said, ‘is Paula Jablonowsky.’
‘Paula, what?’ said the father. The other men laughed. ‘Paula, eh? Strange kind of name. My son's name is—’
‘Maurice- I know.’ She said the name sweetly, and Maurice's face turned an even deeper red.
‘Tell me about yourself,’ the father said to the girl.
‘I come from Hanover, in Germany,’ she said. ‘My father is a shop-keeper,
‘and I ran away from home because I didn't like him. I went to Paris and I worked in a girls’ school there.’
‘Did you like it?’[]‘Oh no- it was so boring! Nothing to do.’
‘And do you like life in England?’ said the father.
‘No- ah, no. The vicar and his wife... no, no, no.’
‘And what will you do?’ the father asked.
‘I will go to London, or to Paris. Or get married!’ She laughed into the father's eyes.
The father laughed too. ‘Get married, eh? Who to?’
‘I don't know. I am going away.’
‘Do you think you'd like making butter and cheese?’
‘Oh yes!’ She smiled her quick bright smile, and her eyes shone.
‘I think she'd like anything different from her life now,’ said Henry.
He heard a noise and looked round. ‘Hallo, who's this?’ he said.
A tramp was crossing the field towards them. He was small, thin, and dirty, with mean little eyes.
‘Have you got a bit of work for me?’ he called out.
‘A bit of work?’ said the father. ‘Can't you see that we've nearly finished these fields?’
‘And you don't know anything about hay-making,’ said Henry, coldly.
‘I'm a hard worker,’ said the tramp. His small eyes looked from father to son, and back again.
‘Well, we've got no work for you,’ said the father. ‘But you can have a bit of something to eat, if you like.’
‘Yes, I would,’ said the man. They gave him the last piece of meat pie.
He ate it quickly, hungrily. ‘That was good,’ he said.
He did not go away, so they gave him a piece of bread and cheese.
Then he asked for a drink of water. He sat down to drink it,
but the other men did not talk to him. They did not like him, and had nothing to say to him.
While he sat there, a young woman came into the field and walked down beside the hedge.
She was small and finely made. Her clothes were neat and tidy, and her hair was pulled back under a sailor hat.
She had a pretty face, but there was a hard, cold look in her eyes.
‘Have you got some work?’ she asked her man.
‘No, they haven't got any work for me. They just gave me a drink of water.’
He was a mean, hateful little man.
‘And do I have to wait for you in the road all day?’
‘You don't have to if you don't want to. You can go on. But if you wait a bit, perhaps you'll get something.’
The woman looked for the first time at the men, staring at them, unsmiling.
‘Have you had your dinner?’ asked the father. ‘He's had a lot to eat. You can have some, if you want it.’
‘What have you had?’ she asked the man angrily.
‘A great piece of meat pie, and a great piece of bread and cheese,’ said Geoffrey.
The young woman looked at Geoffrey, and he at her.
There was a kind of understanding between them. Both of them felt alone in the world.
Geoffrey smiled a little, but she was too angry to smile.
‘There's some cold potatoes,’ Maurice said to the woman. ‘You can have some of them.’
She frowned and did not answer.
Again she looked at Geoffrey, and again there was a silent understanding between them.
Then she turned and walked away.
‘We must get back to work,’ said Henry. He stood up and stared coldly at the tramp. ‘Time to go.’
The tramp stood up too. ‘Aren't you going to give me something for her? She's had nothing to eat all day.’
They gave him some bread and cheese. He pushed it into his pocket, and walked away.

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2.The German girl
Geoffrey's face turned white. He heard the fall.
He stood still, listening. He could hear no sound from below;
he could hear no sound at all, anywhere. Then he was filled with sudden terror.
‘Father!’ he shouted, in his great deep voice. ‘Father! FATHER!’
The cry rang across the fields.
Men came running from the bottom field, and a girl ran down across the upper field.
Geoffrey heard her strange, wild voice. ‘Ah-h!’ she cried out. ‘Ah-h! Are you dead?’
On the top of the stack Geoffrey did not move or speak.
He was too afraid to go down, too afraid even to hide in the hay.
He listened to the voices below. First to arrive was his older brother, Henry.
Then came his father, and Bill, one of the farm workers.
‘What's the matter? What's happened? Oh no!’ That was his father's voice.
They were all silent for a few seconds, then came Henry's voice. ‘He's not dead- look, he's opening his eyes.’
Geoffrey heard, but he was not pleased. Half of him wanted Maurice to be dead.
‘If Maurice is not dead and only hurt, what will he say about me?’ he thought.
‘And what will mother say? I can never look anybody in the face again.’ He felt lonely, and afraid.
Down below on the ground the German girl was crying and laughing at the same time.
‘No, he's not dead, no, he's not dead, no-o.’
‘He can't speak. He needs some water,’ said Henry.
‘Yes, somebody must run and get some,’ said the father. ‘Bill, you go. The vicar's house is nearest.’
Bill ran up to the vicar's house beside the top field, where the German governess worked.
Soon he came back, followed by the vicar.
Maurice drank a little water, and began to make noises, trying to speak.
‘What happened to him?’ asked the vicar. Everybody spoke at once, but the German girl's voice was the loudest.
‘It was the brother- the other brother,’ she cried. ‘He knocked him over. I saw him, I was watching.’
‘I don't think so,’ said the father to the vicar.
Then he got down next to Maurice, who was still making little noises.
‘Where does it hurt, boy, eh?’ he asked, worried.
‘Wait a bit,’ said Henry. ‘Wait until he can speak.’
‘Has he broken anything?’ asked the vicar.
‘He was lucky,’ said the farm worker. Bill, ‘lucky to fall on this bit of hay, and not the hard ground.’
Maurice could speak a little now, and the father asked him, ‘What were you doing, boy?
‘Were you playing around with our Geoffrey? Yes, and where is he?’
On top of the stack Geoffrey stood like a stone.
‘I'll have a look on the stack,’ said Henry.
Geoffrey did not want his big brother to come up on the stack, so he climbed down,
and at the bottom of the ladder stood like a criminal, looking at the ground.
‘What were you doing?’ asked Henry's cold voice.
‘I don't know. Nothing,’ Geoffrey said.[]‘But I saw him!’ cried the governess.
She was sitting on the ground, holding Maurice in her arms. ‘He knocked him over the side- bouf! like that!’
Henry looked from one brother to the other.
‘No, girl,’ whispered Maurice, smiling up at her. ‘He wasn't near me. I just fell- fell over the side.’
‘Oh!’ cried the girl, not understanding.
‘You just made a mistake,’ said the father. ‘That's all.’
‘Oh no,’ she cried. ‘I saw him.’
Her name was Paula Jablonowsky, and her family came from Poland.
She was twenty years old, quick and light as a wild-cat, with a strange, wild way of laughing.
She had bright blue eyes and short golden hair.
Everybody could see that the vicar hated her.
Maurice's face was still white, but he lay, smiling happily in the girl's arms.
She smiled down at him, with her quick, bright smile.
Her English was not very good, but there are stronger things than words.
‘You say what you like,’ she laughed, ‘about your brother, about anything.’
‘Perhaps you need to go back to the children now,’ the vicar said to her, frowning a little.
‘I will go soon,’ the girl said.
She smiled at Maurice again. ‘You want to get up now?’ she asked softly.
‘I'm not in a hurry,’ Maurice said, smiling happily.
‘She's leaving us soon,’ the vicar whispered to the father. ‘My wife really doesn't like her.’
‘Why, is she—?’[]‘Like a wild thing- she won't do what we tell her.’
Maurice decided to get up, and the girl helped him, with her strong arms. ‘You are well,’ she cried happily.
‘Yes, I'm all right,’ he said. ‘The fall knocked the breath out of me, that's all.’
After a moment he walked a few steps. ‘See, father,’ he laughed. ‘I'm fine now.’
‘Fine, fine!’ the girl said, her eyes shining.
Maurice laughed, and touched her face gently.
‘Don't worry. She's going at the end of three weeks,’ the vicar said quietly in the farmer's ear.

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Love among the Haystacks草垛之恋
1.Two brothers
The two large fields lay on a hillside that looked south.
Most of the hay was already cut,
and in the bright sunlight the fields were now golden green.
Across the hill, half-way up, was a high hedge,
and they were building the haystack just above this hedge.
It was a tall haystack, a great untidy thing standing high above the hedge,
but the hay itself was light and silvery in colour, and looked as soft as a cloud.
Not far away was another, finished haystack.
The empty wagon was going downhill,
and in the far corner of the bottom field, where the hay was still uncut,
the full wagon was just beginning its slow journey up the hill to the haystack.
The hay-makers worked on, cutting the tall hay, while the wagon climbed the hill.
The two brothers on top of the haystack were having a moment’s rest, waiting for the full wagon to arrive.
They stood up to their knees in the soft hay, while above them the golden sun burned down,
and all around them was the hot sweet smell of the silvery hay.
The only two things in the world were hay and sun.
Maurice, the younger brother, was a good-looking young man of twenty-one.
He was strong, full of life, with a quick bright eye and a ready smile.
‘You thought,’ he said to his brother, ‘you were very clever last night, didn't you?’
He pushed his fork into the hay, and stared at his brother, with a smile on his face.
‘No. No, I didn't,’ replied Geoffrey. He turned away, frowning.
He was a tall, heavy young man, a year older than Maurice.
He was full of strong feelings, but they burned silently inside him.
He could never find words to say; he could never look anybody in the eye.
He always thought the world was looking at him, and laughing.
‘Oh, you did, I know you did.’ Maurice laughed.
‘It was your turn to sleep in the hayfield last night, but you went and hid yourself, so I had to go in your place.’
‘I didn't hide myself,’ said Geoffrey angrily. ‘Father sent me to get some wood—’
‘Oh yes, oh yes,’ laughed Maurice. ‘But you don't know, do you?
‘You don't know what happened last night, up here in the hayfield.’
He laughed again, and threw himself down on his back in the hay.
He put his arms across his face and lay there, smiling and remembering the night before.
Geoffrey leant on his fork and stared out over the fields.
Far away was the city of Nottingham, and between, the country lay under the burning sun,
with here and there the smoke from a factory going up into the sky.
Geoffrey looked down again into the hayfield, at the wagon slowly climbing the hill to the haystack.
‘Hurry up,’ he thought. ‘Hurry up.’
‘You didn't think, did you?’ said Maurice. ‘You didn't think that she would be here with me, did you?’
Geoffrey stared at him, full of hate.
Suddenly, he wanted to put his foot down hard on that smiling, good-looking face below him.
‘Can you sing in German?’ asked Maurice. ‘Do you know how to kiss a German girl?
‘Do you know how soft her neck is?’ He laughed excitedly, remembering every moment of the night before.
Geoffrey burned with hate. He wanted to walk away, but he couldn't.
The haystack, high above the field, was a prison holding him and his brother together.
Both brothers were shy of women.
Neither of them had a girlfriend; neither of them knew what to say to a woman, or how to win her love.
And now Maurice was first in the game, and the older brother did not like it.
The German girl was the governess from the house beside the top field.
Geoffrey was working one day in the field when a baby pushed through a hole in the hedge from the garden of the house.
Seconds later the German girl came through the hedge too, looking for the baby.
Geoffrey helped her to catch the little boy, and then they stood talking for a while.
Geoffrey liked her bright eyes, and her funny, quick way of talking.
‘But now it’s Maurice she likes best, not me,’ he thought.
‘She sits with him in the hayfield by moonlight, and he kisses her.’
Unhappily, he looked up the hill to the house beside the top field.
From the top of the haystack he could see right into the garden, and there, suddenly, he saw the girl, in a yellow dress.
He held up his arm and waved to her. She waved back, lazily.
Geoffrey could see that she was not interested in him, and was waiting for Maurice.
Then Maurice stood up, and saw the girl himself. He laughed, and waved both arms at her.
‘What’s going on?’ called a voice from below.
The full wagon was now standing at the foot of the haystack.
Maurice’s face turned deep red. ‘Nothing!’ he called.
There was the sound of laughing below, and soon a big, red-faced man climbed to the top of the hay in the wagon.
He turned, stared up the hillside, and saw the yellow dress in the garden.
‘Oh, it's a girl, is it?’ he laughed. He was the father of Geoffrey and Maurice. ‘Yes, I thought it was a girl.’
They began working again, throwing the hay from the wagon up to the top of the haystack.
There the brothers had to place the hay carefully, building a stack with four strong walls which would not fall over.
It was hard work. The father threw up great forkfuls of hay,
Geoffrey then passed them along to Maurice, who built up the haystack's walls.
But Geoffrey was full of angry feelings.
Usually he threw the hay into the places where Maurice wanted it.
Now, he threw it into the middle of the stack,
and Maurice had to work twice as hard, carrying it out to the walls.
Once, a great forkful of hay from Geoffrey hit Maurice on the back.
‘Be careful!’ called Maurice angrily. ‘And why are you throwing it in the middle, you stupid man?’
‘I'll throw it where I like,’ answered Geoffrey.
They worked on, both brothers angry now.
They got hotter and tireder, and still the hay came up from the wagon below.
‘There, that's the end,’ the father called at last from the wagon.
Geoffrey threw the last forkful into the middle of the stack, then stood still, watching Maurice.
‘This side wall isn't very strong,’ came the father's voice from below. ‘You must build it up more.’
‘No, it's fine,’ called Maurice crossly.
Geoffrey moved across to the side wall, and pushed his fork down into the hay.
He pushed harder, and the top of the haystack began to move just a little.
‘What are you doing, you fool?’ cried Maurice.
‘Don't you call me a fool,’ said Geoffrey, and he pushed again on his fork.
Maurice jumped across to him, and pulled him away from the wall.
It was not easy to stand in the soft bed of hay, and Geoffrey fell over.
Maurice called down to his father below. ‘This wall is fine. It's not going to fall down.’
‘All right,’ came the father's voice. ‘We'll be off now to bring the next wagon up here.’
Geoffrey got to his feet. ‘Don't call me a fool again, do you hear?’ he said heavily.
‘Not until next time,’ said his brother.
Maurice went on working, moving round the stack and building up the walls.
Geoffrey stood still, hand on his fork, looking out over the fields.
He did not move even when Maurice needed to get past him.
‘Move, will you?’ said Maurice. There was no reply.
Maurice put out his arm and tried to push his brother out of his way.
‘Who are you pushing?’ said Geoffrey angrily.[]‘You,’ replied Maurice, and at once the two brothers began to fight.
Each pushed against the other as hard as he could,
but Geoffrey was the heavier of the two men, and slowly he began to win.
Maurice had to move back, but his feet caught in the hay,
and he fell over the side of the stack, all the way down to the ground.

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11.Paris
For the next thirty years the Duke and Duchess lived in Paris.
They gave parties and travelled round the world, but they never went back to Buckingham Palace.
When King George died in 1952 and Queen Mary died in 1961, Edward returned to Windsor for a few days.
But Wallis stayed in France. ‘It's your family,’ she said. ‘Not mine.’
But then, in 1966, the Duke and Duchess met Queen Elizabeth (the daughter of King George) at a small party in London.
After thirty long years it was time to forget the past.
Elizabeth kissed the Duchess and touched her arm.
Then she turned to the Duke and said: ‘Wallis is so beautiful, uncle. I think you're a lucky man.’
‘That day Elizabeth was very kind to us,’ Edward wrote later.
‘But why couldn't my mother or my brother say those words to me?’
On BBC television in 1969 the Duke and Duchess spoke about their life together.
‘Do you argue?’ someone asked them.
‘No, not really,'the Duchess replied.
‘But there's one thing about my husband that I really don't like. He is always late.
‘It doesn't matter if he's meeting a queen, a president, or a film star. He can never arrive on time.
‘I don't know why. I have tried to change him, but it's just not possible.’
The Duke smiled and touched her hand. ‘I know that I'm often late,’ he said.
‘But on our wedding day, I arrived at the church twenty minutes before you. I was early and you were late.’
‘Yes, that's true,’ the Duchess said. And they both laughed.
‘You could see real love in their eyes,’ one newspaper wrote.
‘They were on television, but they forgot about the cameras and the millions of people who were watching. They were just two people in love.’
The Duchess was famous for her jewellery. ‘After my husband,’ she once said, ‘I love jewellery more than anything else in the world.’
And after thirty-five years with the Duke she had hundreds of pieces, which came from all over the world.
‘I have never met a more beautiful woman than Wallis,’ Edward wrote, ‘and I love giving her presents.
‘She has given me so much happiness. I buy her jewels to say “thank you”.’
In May 1972 the Duke became ill.
When the doctor arrived, he listened to Edward's heart and then said: ‘How many cigarettes do you have a day. Sir?’
‘About forty or fifty,’ the Duke replied. ‘But please don't ask me to stop. I've smoked for sixty years and I cannot change now.’
That night Edward called Wallis into the room. ‘I feel very tired,’ he said. ‘And I'm afraid.
‘I love you. I have been very happy with you, and you have been a wonderful wife.
‘When I die, I want you to take my body back to Windsor. Will you do that for me?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said. And they both began to cry.
The Duke of Windsor died one hour later with Wallis by his side.
Three days later, a blue aeroplane arrived in Paris.
Wallis went back to England with the Duke's body and, for the first time in her life, she entered Buckingham Palace.
A week later the Duchess returned to France, and for the next fourteen years she lived alone in Paris.
The big house was dark. The doors were locked and she did not go out.
In the afternoons she sat in the dining room with Edward's love letters.
‘They were so beautiful,’ she said. ‘I read them again and again.’
But then, in 1986, Wallis became ill.
She went to a small hospital near the house, and a few days later she died.
‘Without Edward,’ she once wrote, ‘my life was empty.’
She was buried in England next to her husband at Windsor.
‘It's a strange thing,’ one newspaper wrote. ‘When they were alive, the Duke and Duchess could never live in Britain.
‘It was only in death that they could be there together.’

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10.The Wedding
The next morning Edward telephoned Wallis from Boulogne.
‘Did you listen to me on the radio?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course,’ she said.
‘And how did you feel?’
‘I was sitting in my room alone,’ Wallis said.
‘And when I listened to your words, I felt so sad. I put my hands over my eyes and I just cried.
‘I couldn't stop myself. You have left everything for me.
‘But I love you so much, Edward, and with me, you'll be the happiest man in the world.’
‘I am that already,’ he replied. ‘You are all that matters in my life.’
Edward married Wallis Simpson six months later, on 3rd June 1937.
None of the Royal Family came to the wedding.
Edward was forty-three. Wallis was forty-one.
And they now took a new name— the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.
A few weeks later Edward wrote to his brother King George.
‘I was surprised that you didn't come to the wedding,’ he wrote. ‘But Wallis is now my wife and nothing can change that.
‘As you know, we have a house in Paris. But France is not my home, and I want to live again at Windsor with Wallis by my side.’
‘I'm sorry, Edward,’ King George wrote back. ‘But you know how I feel about that woman.
‘I do not like her. I will never like her. You can live here, but Wallis cannot.’
‘My brother’, Edward said later, ‘pushed me away like a dog. I will never forget what he did.
‘And after that I decided that I didn't want my family.
‘They didn't want Wallis, and so I didn't want them.’

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9.The Woman I Love
A few days later Mr Churchill came to see Edward at Buckingham Palace.
At first the King was quiet. Then he said: ‘This is my last night in England, Winston.
‘I love this country. I wanted to be a modern, kind King.
‘I wanted to change the world, but they stopped me. And now I have to leave.’
It was ten o’clock. Edward stood up and walked over to the window.
In the dark streets below there were hundreds of people.
They were singing and calling his name: ‘Edward, Edward, we love Edward!’ they shouted. ‘Long live the King! Long live love!’
Suddenly the King turned to Mr Churchill. ‘Why is this happening to me, Winston?’ he cried. ‘What have I done wrong?’
He sat down and put his head in his hands.
There was a silence in the room, but through the open window came the shouting from the street.
‘Long live Edward! Long live love! Long live Edward! Long live love!’
Mr Churchill came over and put his hand on the King's arm.
Edward looked up. ‘Thank you, Winston,’ he said. ‘You were a good friend to me.’
‘Thank you, Sir. And you were a good King.’
At ten o’clock the next morning the telephone rang in Edward's bedroom.
‘They're ready for you now. Sir,’ a voice said.
The King walked slowly down the stairs. In front of him there was an open door.
The family were waiting for him. His mother sat near the window, dressed in black.
His brothers stood beside her. ‘How close they are!’ the King thought.
On a small table in the centre of the room there was a piece of paper.
Edward sat down and read these words:
I, Edward the Eighth, King of Great Britain, King of India, King of Australia,
King of New Zealand, King of Canada, King of Kenya, King of Nigeria,
King of Burma, King of Malaya, King of Singapore, and King of thirty-two other countries,
have today given the crown to my brother George.
God be with him and all his people.[]10th December 1936.
Edward took a pen and wrote his name at the bottom of the page. Then he stood up and kissed his brother's hand.
‘I never wanted this to happen,’ George said. ‘This is the worst day of my life.’
Edward walked over to his mother.
‘Before I kiss you,’ she said, ‘there are some things that I want to say. I have never understood you, child.
‘This morning you were a King. But tonight, you'll run from England like a thief. Alone. Angry. Afraid.
‘You think that you're free. But you're not. You cannot he free.
‘Everyone needs their family. Everyone needs their home. And tonight you have lost both those things.
‘I love you. I am your mother and nothing can change that.
‘But if you marry that woman, you will break my heart. Go now. It is all very sad.’
Edward kissed Queen Mary's hand. Then he turned and walked away.
The next day Edward returned to Windsor Castle.
He went into a small, cold room at the top of the building.
From there, he spoke on BBC radio to Britain and the world.
This is what he said: Tonight, for the first time, I can say a few words to you.
‘Earlier today I gave the crown to my brother George. He is now your King.
‘I will soon leave this country and travel to France.
‘My heart is with Wallis and I cannot live without the woman I love.’
‘I don't know what will happen to me. Perhaps I will never see England again.
‘But think of me tonight when I sail across the sea.
‘God be with you. Long live King George!
Edward left Windsor Castle and got into a large black car.
It was now midnight and it was just beginning to rain.
‘Take me away as quickly as you can,’ he said. The car moved off into the darkness and the rain.
‘What a night!’ said the driver. ‘I think the sky is crying, Sir.’
At 1.30 a.m. they arrived at Portsmouth.
Edward got out of the car and a voice said, ‘The King is here!’
Edward stopped and looked out across the open sea.
There was a thin, cold smile on his face. ‘King?’ he said. ‘No, I am not the King.
‘I am just a man in love.’ Then he turned and walked onto the ship and into the night.