Road to Berry Edge, The Read Online Free PDF

more children because I had been so ill, you have no idea how I longed for a family like other women had. It’s strange how you can miss people who weren’t born. I often think what our son would have been like, maybe two, another daughter. I don’t mean to blame you, Faith, I understand how you felt about John, it’s just that our lives are so very empty now, filled with detail but without joy. Children bring that as nothing else ever could. And it’s - it’s interesting. Families are what people talk about. When I meet other women and hear about their grandchildren it hurts me. I feel as though our lives stopped completely when John died.’ Her mother looked at her straighter, Faith thought, than she had done in years. ‘There was nothing wrong with Robert, Faith, he was a fine young man.’
    â€˜How can you say that?’
    â€˜Because it’s true. He was headstrong, yes, he was a touch wild but dear me, it’s no more than many other young men. He only looked so bad in John’s light. A man’s the better for a fault or two, it makes us easier to live with ourselves.’
    â€˜John had no faults,’ Faith declared.
    â€˜You’re an embittered woman, Faith.’
    â€˜A dried up old spinster,’ Faith said. ‘So I am, and Robert Berkeley is to blame.’

Four
    Harry had thought County Durham was a lot further away than it actually was. He had never been that far north before and had been under the mistaken impression that after Yorkshire there was Scotland. Harry had heard that the north east was a grimy collection of tiny, ugly houses with dirty foundries and pits. He had heard that the women wore aprons and headscarves, the men were black from work, with thick guttural voices, that there was no culture, that there was no beauty, that there was nothing of any significance in Durham. So as he drew further northwards he gazed out of the train window surprised at the pretty farms and small neat fields, and when the train pulled into the station at Durham it was quite a shock.
    Any dirt, any disfigurement that might have spoiled Harry’s impression was hidden under a cloak of snow and the view from there was a full picture of the small city. The little houses were transformed into the kind of thing which you read about in children’s stories, with thick white window ledges and gleaming silver roofs. There were church spires and best of all the Norman cathedral set square with its four towers and the castle close beside, grey against the snow, bright in the sunshine. Rob barely glanced at it but for Harry it was like a homecoming, small enough to be cosy. He felt as though it was welcoming him like he was a son as the train slowed and then stopped high on ahill above the city. He stayed quite still to try to keep those moments of first seeing the place fresh in his mind.
    â€˜It’s beautiful,’ he said.
    â€˜You’ve seen Venice, Rome and Paris,’ Rob said roughly, ‘let’s get out of here.’
    Harry persuaded him to linger a little. The streets had magical names such as Silver Street on a tiny twisting bank which led down to Framwellgate Bridge. He hung over the bridge because the view from there was of the River Wear, and the cathedral and castle rose up sharply amidst bare, black, winter trees. The river had a pale grey sheen on that sunny winter’s day. On either side there were houses, some of them with gardens which went straight down to the towpath and the river. Saddler Street was through the market place on another bank and wended its way up to Palace Green where the castle and the cathedral stood with pretty stone buildings around a square. It was all tiny banks and hidden lanes and bends so that everything was a surprise.
    *
    It was early evening by the time they got off the train at Berry Edge. This was more like Harry’s idea of what a north east industrial town would be. It sat high up on the