There he was making a fool of himself as usual, thought Adey, watching Joe at his antics. He was sitting on the high ridge at World’s End, marvelling at the sight of such a throng of people now assembled on the slopes, just like the Sermon on the Mount. He had it on good authority that only a miracle would open the skies for he had been to the open prayer meeting that night and heard about the Reverend Charles Tweedale, Vicar of Weston, who had attached himself to the Astronomer Royal’s party at the Giggleswick Observatory in order to make sure that they would have a pure viewing of the corona.

  There was no stopping him when he was on one of his missions. He’d sent word for all Christians to kneel down and pray for the parting of any clouds, for he had dreamed that a great black cloud would obstruct the view if left to its own devices. He’d decided the least he could do was to hold a vigil on this side of the hills to back up any emergency should it arise on the other, where the Anglicans were gathered. Better that Chapel and Church should work together for the good of all, for a change.

  He’d tried to get Tom roped in but he was far too busy calming his restless cows. It was rumoured that animals could run amok at the first signs of shadows and darkness.

  He should have had more sense than to get Adey out here when she was busy up to her elbows in flour, baking baps with the last heat on the range. She might be hard as flint on the outside but he knew her heart was warm. She’d never got over losing George, and Ellie running off like that, and blamed herself for being a bad parent.

  Sometimes it was hard to fathom why Joe had taken to her so strong. The Yewell boys were known for being one-girl men. She’d not let him down, running the farm on tramlines. He couldn’t fault her housekeeping but even she knew she was laced up too tight. No one ever saw her sit down to count the daisies, allus on the go. There was never a grin on her face. Perhaps a bit of laughter would do her good, crack the enamel on that stiff mask into something close to pretty.

  If Adey stood still she would flop down and be a limp rag. It was better to be on the go. But Joe had dragged her high up the fell. The ridge might have a great view but there was nothing else going for World’s End but the old ruins that had saved the child last winter.

  She surveyed the sky. It was nearly 5.30 now and already light. She hoped Florrie had dowsed the fire but she could see in the distance a bank of cloud gathering that might scupper their view. Soon the clouds were playing hide-and-seek with the sun.

  Joe was looking at his fob watch. It was 6.10 and one black cloud was progressing ever closer to the sun. The eclipse was beginning to happen and the crowds on the hillsides were ready with their spectacles and smoked-glass eye shields.

  Even Adey was peering out anxiously. Everyone was willing the clouds to break. Then she saw her husband fall on his knees and throw out his arms, heedless of the curious looks from bystanders. It was time to wait upon the Lord as the cloud moved ominously on.

  ‘O Lord of the Heavens and Earth, open our eyes to the wonders of the Firmament. Just budge that cloud a little lower down,’ he was pleading, a single voice in the silence of anticipation and dread. Suddenly the sun stood alone with the moon creeping to its position through a window in the sky. Joe got up and came rushing over.

  ‘Come on, Adey, leave yer fiddling, come and see the miracle,’ Joe yelled from his perch. ‘Come up here and see the eclipse.’

  ‘Leave me be, Joe. I ought to go down and see to things,’ she snapped, but he strode over and grabbed her by the arm roughly.

  ‘For once you’ll do as yer bid. There’s more to life than griddle cakes and bacon. The porridge’ll keep. Have a bit of soul, woman …’ He pulled her towards the edge facing east, overlooking the fells where people now crawled like ants in the gathering gloom.

  Have a bit of soul indeed, she thought, as she stared up at the broken cloud watching the shadow pass across the sun. Suddenly there was a chill of air, and darkness was falling fast. The silence was unnerving. She was glad Joe was watching by her side.

  A hush fell over the crowds. A silence you could cut with a knife, so sharp and powerful. Then came the racing shadow over the fells like the wings of some black angel brushing across the earth, an eerie shadow of death passing over their heads.

  Adey watched the black moon devouring the sunlight. Joe shoved the smoked glass in front of her and she glimpsed briefly the sight of the corona of fire and bowed her head.

  All the songbirds were silent and the chill made her shiver, for she felt the whole world was wiped out and for a second she felt such panic. How many of their ancestors had stood and watched in terror as this mysterious act was performed in front of their eyes? They would have looked with fear and dread at this unexpected darkness.

  She thought of Mam and Dad, George and Ellie, and of the terrible war. All that grief and suffering, and for what? She was flooded with grief, and tears welled in her eyes. It was all there in that black shadow blotting out life and warmth and happiness, all the shadows of her own life rolled into one.

  Yet even this shadow could not blot out the sun’s rays and fire. It was an illusion of time and circumstance, just an illusion. The sun’s life burned regardless, the crown of fire would win through with power. Each of those twenty-three seconds seemed like an eternity of suffering burned up, devoured in the heat of life.

  Would the sun ever return them to brightness? What if Joe was right and this was the end of the world? Was she fit to meet her maker, this sad, shrivelled-up, old-before-her-time woman? More than anything she longed for it to be over, for colour and life to return, for the warmth to touch her very heart as it had when she was a child so many years ago.

  She turned to look at Joe afresh, her husband, her boys, Tom and Wesley safe, this farm, her life, and young Mirren, their second chance. This was what mattered now, not the past lives.

  Suddenly the Totality was over and the shadow slipped away. Light was beginning to return. The clouds raced in, closing the curtain on the sun. There was nothing to see.

  Huge cheers went up, a stirring of relief and excitement as the dark moment passed. The moors began to clatter with the roar of vehicles and engines revving up. Normality would soon return, but Adey was transfixed by what she had witnessed; something so unexpected, so personal, enlightening.

  It felt like a message just for her – as if scales had fallen from her eyes and she saw all things anew. How small the world below looked from this perch; how magnificent were the hills around them, grey and green. ‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,’ she sighed.

  There was such a vivid green to the fields, a sharpness to the grey walls, a freshness of the breeze on her cheek as she raced down the slope towards the outline of Cragside. She noticed the white blossom dripping from the hawthorns, their scent wafting up her nostrils. She looked up at the frontage of their ancient farmhouse as if seeing its grandeur for the first time. This is my home, my family, she thought, though Joe might be standing in his midden clothes, still smelling of the farmyard, scratching his head at all he has seen, no doubt thinking his prayers have opened the skies.

  She saw Jack and Ben strolling among the crowds, eyeing the girls with interest. It was good that those two were becoming friends, but where was Mirren?

  Mirren woke in the hayloft at the sound of cheering, her eyes crusted, and she wondered where she was. Then she felt the pain in her arm and heard voices whispering down below.

  ‘Tom, behave yourself! I’ve got the breakfasts to do!’ giggled Florrie Sowerby. Mirren leaned over to see more. Tom was on his back pulling Florrie into the hay, fooling around, tussling her. What were they doing? He was jumping on her like a tup at a ewe. They were kissing and making silly noises. Wait until she told Jack.

  She was leaning so far out to see more that she rolled off the edge, falling between them with a scream. Uncle Tom lay back at the sight of her, laughing, scratching his head in surprise.

  ‘Look what’s jumped out of the hay.’

  ‘I’ve hurt me arm,’ she sobbed.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Florrie, trying to examine it. ‘I don’t like the look of this, love … It’ll need a looking-at and some of Dr Murray’s bone-setting liniment and plaster of Paris.’

  The two lovebirds straightened down their clothes and made for the door. Jack came tearing across the yard and in through the barn door.

  ‘Did you see it, Mam?’ he said, looking up at them all with a cheeky grin on his face.

  ‘Of course,’ Florrie smiled. ‘It were that grand it made my eyes water. It makes you think …’

  Mirren began to howl again, great rasping sobs that brought all her family running.

  ‘Does it hurt that bad?’ Uncle Tom asked.

  ‘I missed it,’ she sobbed. ‘I missed it all. I were asleep and they never waked me.’ She stared hard at Jack, one of her darkest glowers. It was then that Uncle Wes took a snap of her holding her elbow and scowling with his little box camera.

  Gran gathered her up to comfort her, trying not to touch the sore bit. ‘Don’t fret on it, lass. Happen you’ll be young enough to see it again,’ was all she could offer. ‘I nearly missed it myself and that would have been a great pity, Mirren. There’ll be no second chance for me.’

  If only she’d stayed in her own room and out of mischief but she had to go following Jack Sowerby. It was all his fault and she wasn’t ever going to speak to him again; not never.

  ‘Look at the mess!’ shouted Uncle Tom, surveying the litter over the fields. No sooner had the world and his wife departed, and the farmers mopped their brows and counted the cash, than the real price was there to see. There were makeshift camps and fires, broken bottles, tyre marks and ruts and spilled petrol cans.

  ‘The dirty buggers!’

  ‘Thomas! Not in front of the children, please,’ shouted his mother.

  Before the day was over there was news of other farms where lambs were caught and roasted on makeshift spits over fires.

  ‘Never again!’ sighed Tom.

  Mirren had had to have her arm set in plaster down in Scarperton and that meant a trip on the bus and more expense, so she offered her cash and then out it came about Jack’s little scheme. Gran was not impressed.

  ‘I can’t leave you lot, five minutes … Now there’s doctor’s bills to pay and the house to clean out. Those mucky beggars from Bradford left the bedrooms in a tip. They’ve broken crockery, and my fancy towels are missing and the little china horse that belonged to Great-Aunt Susannah. Don’t go asking me to take in lodgers again, not so much as a please and thank you, and them with a car and a chauffeur.’

  ‘Oh, don’t take on so,’ said Grandpa Joe. ‘They’re only things. They can be replaced. Pity the poor devils who’ve to go back to soot and smoke and toil. Town folk don’t know how to behave in the country. They think it’s a big park to play in. They forget it’s our livelihood, but no mind …’

  Mirren emptied her pockets of coins and put the whole lot on the table with a scowl.

  ‘There’s three shillings in coppers and two shilling pieces and sixpence … You can have that, Gran, for my doctor’s bill,’ she sighed. The furry sweets she was keeping back in her pocket. No one was having those.

  ‘We’ll put it in your piggy bank for a rainy day,’ Gran said, siding it all away. ‘I have to admit it was a grand do seeing such wonders in the sky.’

  Mirren scowled again. ‘But I didn’t see any of it, it’s not fair …’ She turned for sympathy but none was coming.

  ‘You can take that look off your face, young lady. Life’s not fair and the sooner you learn that lesson, the better.’

  Adey reckoned there were three miracles delivered on that June morning. The first was the easy one: the opening of the clouds to let them have the only clear view of Totality in the entire country. But the second was much harder to quantify. It was as if that eclipse brought such a change in their household and in herself that even she couldn’t understand. It wasn’t so much as if she got in the habit of cracking smiles more often or bothering a bit more about what she dolled herself up in, it was more as if she were one of them pictures that got itself hand-tinted with a bit of colour wash. Her knitting patterns were a bit brighter and her pinnies took on a bit more of red and blue and brightness.

  She distempered the walls of the parlours with warm earth colours. Flowers found their way into vases and in the winter she and Mirren sat hooking a great rug for the hall, made up from fabric cut from old clothes from the attic. The design was a great sun with a moon half across it, then full on and then passing over.

  It was to make up to Mirren for missing all the excitement and to rest Adey’s ankles and back a bit more. The sky didn’t fall if you sat down and rested up a while.

  Mirren’s elbow was a bit of a mess and needed trips to the infirmary. The child was sad to have caused extra expense but Adey shook her head and laughed it off, saying, ‘I told you the money from the eclipse would come in handy one way or another. What matters most is getting you straight again, young lady.’

  What mattered most was the coming of this unexpected gift to Cragside, this second chance, this miracle of God’s grace, as Joe called Mirren, proof of His forgiveness. Hard work had its place but without joy and time to count the daisies, what was the point? Adey had learned her lesson and would pass it on.

  Mirren wasn’t Ellie, nor could she ever be her replacement. There was much about her that needed licking into place but her coming had brought new life and joy to their old age and for that Adeline Yewell would be forever grateful.

  The third miracle was that Tom was getting wed at long last. Wilf Sowerby’s widow had said yes and there was going to be a wedding in September.

  Praise the Lord … no more washing Tom’s overalls and smelly socks and feeding his hollow legs. Perhaps then she could rest up a bit for she’d been feeling a bit off, of late.

  After the wedding breakfast Jack, Ben and Mirren climbed the path to World’s End, stuffed to the gills with ham salads, trifles, curd tarts and wedding cake. Mirren had been pestering the boys to come to find it again.

  ‘Isn’t it grand?’ she said. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘You’ve brought us all this way to see a ruin?’ said Jack, eyeing the old house with disdain. ‘It’s just a shepherd’s hut and perishing cold.’

  Ben was being tactful and said nothing.

  ‘The walls are thick and strong,’ she argued, wanting to defend her secret place, wishing she hadn’t brought them now.

  ‘But there’s no roof left; it’s all collapsing.’

  ‘But with a new roof on … I’m going to rebuild it one day.’ She could see it all done up in her mind’s eye.

  ‘You’re not a roofer. You couldn’t lift one of those sandstones,’ Jack laughed.

  ‘But we could help her,’ offered Ben.

  ‘If I can survive a night in a blizzard, I can put a roof on a house.’ She could see the place with paned windows and gleaming glass, a new front door.

  ‘Look, you can see right down the valley to the railway and the river. I bet the Brigantes held out here long ago.’ Ben was into history and battles.

  ‘We could camp up here and it could be our secret den.’ Mirren was trying to impress Jack, to no avail.

  ‘No, thanks, none of your mad ideas. I’ve enough of my own. Ben can come in the holidays and you can play hide-and-seek,’ Jack scoffed.

  ‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Mirren. ‘This is a shepherd’s house and I’ll be a proper shepherd with my own flock, so there!’

  ‘Girls can’t be shepherds!’ Jack laughed again. ‘Your cousin is soft in the head,’ he said turning to Ben.

  ‘You’ll be going to grammar school soon,’ Ben smiled. ‘How’ll you manage to do both?’

  ‘I can try,’ she replied, feeling dumped.

  ‘Well, you won’t catch me chasing sheep up a mountain. I want to be an engineer,’ said Jack. ‘You’ve got Cragside and we’ve got Scar Head. How many more places do you want?’

  ‘I want a place of my own one day,’ Mirren told him.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ said Jack. ‘Let’s get cracking. This place gives me the creeps.’

  It was at that moment, standing on the edge, looking out, queen of all she surveyed, that Mirren sensed a flicker of excitement. World’s End was hers and hers alone. She had found it and it was her destiny. How could those silly clots not see its magic?

  Part Two

  Darkening Skies

  Chapter 6

  1939

  ‘You’re going to have to rest up a bit more, Mrs Yewell,’ said Dr Murray, taking his stethoscope from Adeline’s chest. ‘That ticker of yours is showing its age.’

  She pulled up her underslip quickly and got dressed. After the last dizzy do, Joe insisted they call the quack out to the farm.

  ‘It’s a tonic bottle I need, not a lecture. That’ll get me right enough,’ she smiled.

  ‘Adeline Yewell, like it or not, you’re no spring chicken and those puffy ankles tell me the pump’s not working as it should. I’ll give you some pills. You farmers’ wives are all the same, up from dawn to midnight and no proper holidays. Let that young lass of yours take up the slack.’

  ‘Miriam’s got her studies to do. We want her to do well and not waste her chances shovelling muck of a morning … She does her share. Happen I’ll take things lightly for a few days.’

  ‘Days won’t cure this, Adey, and you know it! Perhaps I’ll have a word with Joe downstairs,’ the doctor threatened.

  ‘You do that and you won’t get any of my brass again. Just give me the pills and I’ll try and put my feet up. Joe’s enough on his plate with all the rules and regulations coming in. I don’t know what the world’s coming to, setting us up for another war, sending sons out as gun fodder again … You’d think we’d learned summat after the last packet.’

  John Murray shook his head, having lost his only son at Gallipoli. ‘We have to stop this madman in Germany,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll be too old to do much, though it has to be done.’