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Have you discovered all of Anna Jacobs' wonderful series?
For a heartwarming and emotional saga set in a Lancashire valley, try the BIRCH END series:
A DAUGHTER'S JOURNEY
A WIDOW'S COURAGE
A WOMAN'S PROMISE
Release date: July 30, 2026
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Print pages: 320
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Hope Comes to Eastby End
Anna Jacobs
Ollindale, Lancashire, 1885
Sam Newby’s father didn’t send him away to a fancy school to give his son more experience of the world and better polished manners, as some other parents in Ollindale who’d made a little money had done with their sons. James Newby wanted his only son to live at home so that the two of them could enjoy one another’s company and he could ensure that the lad grew up with the same love of Lancashire and Ollerton House as himself. After all, it had been their family home for nearly two hundred years.
He also wanted Sam to have a similar attitude towards treating his fellow human beings fairly, whatever their status in the world. So whenever he could spare an hour or two in the summer evenings or on fine weekends, he took the lad walking on the nearby moors. There they enjoyed long discussions about their country and the world in general, even when Sam was quite young, and they stopped regularly to chat to the people they met.
However, James made certain his boy would receive a good education by getting himself elected to the local council and then making sure he was on its education committee. That way he could be sure that the grammar school hired teachers with sound morals as well as good educational skills. James made a good friend on the council: Walter Crossley was a sensible man and they shared the notion that the council existed not to improve the consequence of the councillors, but to improve the lives of local residents. Sam grew up to the sound of their conversations as they made improvements, or were blocked from them – mostly by Evan Tidby and his fellow traditionalists, who delighted in blocking progress whenever they could.
Sadly, Sam’s mother wasn’t in good health and didn’t bear any other children, so he remained an only child. She died of the influenza in a bad epidemic when he had just turned eight, and his father grew very quiet and sad for several months.
When Sam was nine his father married a widow of his own age. This was a terrible thing as far as the lad was concerned. The more time he spent with his stepmother the more he disliked her, and as time passed he could tell that she seemed to absolutely hate him. He couldn’t understand why. What had he done wrong?
Clara had taken a step up in the world by marrying James and coming to live in Ollerton House, and Sam knew his father was happier with her in his bed. He heard them sometimes at night and was enough of a country lad to understand exactly what they were doing, just like the farm animals. Ugh!
As he watched her manipulate her husband, Sam made a vow that he was never going to be such a slave to his body as his father clearly was. And he was never, ever going to rush into marriage, either.
Tyler Bundrell and Sam Newby were best friends at school. Tyler’s parents had died suddenly last winter, in the same influenza epidemic that had killed Sam’s mother. As he was now an orphan, Tyler was taken in by his aunt and uncle, a couple known in the district for their penny-pinching attitude to life.
Tyler and Sam had been the top two scholars in their year at primary school, both expecting to go on to secondary school and perhaps even college one day. But Tyler was now being treated badly by his aunt and uncle, who had started keeping him off school to do all sorts of little jobs that would earn them money.
This happened often enough to disrupt his education badly and Tyler had started to fall behind the other children, however hard he tried to keep up. He was simply too tired most evenings to go over some of the day’s lessons with Sam, or even to play outside. If he did come out to see his friend, he only sat on the low part of a nearby wall sagging back against one of its higher columns in exhaustion as he chatted to Sam.
They were sitting there one evening when they saw the attendance officer call at Tyler’s house, coming to speak to his aunt and uncle after their day’s work. Most decent folk considered it a shameful thing to be given an official warning by this man. These two answered him back angrily and scornfully, and refused to promise to keep their nephew’s attendance regular.
The lads slid off the wall and crept closer to the house, hearing the officer threaten to bring Mr and Mrs Bundrell before the magistrate if they didn’t send Tyler to school regularly so that he could get a full and proper education.
‘He doesn’t need any more schooling. He’s top of his class now,’ Tyler’s uncle said sharply. ‘He should be out at work full time, paying us back for looking after him since his parents died.’
The attendance officer had interrupted to say loudly and slowly, ‘On the contrary, the law requires all children to go to school full time until the age of ten, whatever their family circumstances or achievements. And lads as clever as Tyler usually go on to the grammar school. Don’t you want him to do that?’
‘No. It’s a waste of time for people like us.’
‘Well, that’s a pity. But see that you obey the law in future and don’t do anything to prevent him going to school or I’ll bring you up before the magistrate and you’ll get fined.’
‘It’s hard to make a lad go to school when he doesn’t want to,’ Tyler’s uncle said, and Tyler’s hands formed into fists. Lies!
‘Do you take me for a fool? The whole village knows that Tyler used to love going to school, and that he was top of his class there. You’re stopping him doing that to get the few extra pence he brings in, and a pitiful amount it is at the rate children of his age are paid,’ the man said sharply. He paused, sighed, then added, ‘Any road, just bear in mind that this is an official warning and will be written up in the council records. You will definitely be fined by the magistrate if you continue keeping him away from school.’
‘People say the law is an ass and they’re right,’ Colin Bundrell muttered to his wife as the officer began to walk away, not caring that his voice carried clearly in the still air. ‘Kids that age should be out earning money for their families once they’ve learned the three Rs, which he has.’
The attendance officer swung round and glared at him. ‘I heard that! It’s not for you to question or disobey the law of our country! And if you don’t obey it by sending that lad to school from now on, I’ll be down on you like a ton of bricks, I promise.’
But though they let Tyler go to school more regularly after that, they still kept him away for occasional days, and he missed more schooling than most other children did. The closer he got to ten, the more often they kept him at home. They knew, as did everyone else in the village, that once youngsters approached the official leaving age, the magistrates rarely imposed actual fines for missing school but handed out warnings instead.
Tyler grew quiet and looked rather sad all the time, but mostly refused to discuss the situation with Sam, because what could he do about it? Nothing, that’s what. Other families with clever children tried to give them something. Even if the family was too poor to let the child have a full secondary education, they usually managed to give them a couple of extra years, especially the sons, who would be more respected throughout their lives because of it and would get better jobs too.
Tyler was taken away from school as soon as it was legal, on his tenth birthday, and from then onwards he had to do whatever job his uncle could find for him, and he got thumped if he so much as mentioned school. Only after he’d finished work for the day was he even allowed out to get some fresh air, and that was because most people regarded it as a cheap way to prevent children from falling ill. Sam taught him as best he could, and loaned him books which he read hungrily, but still Tyler was filled with frustration at the education he was missing.
Tyler was growing fast and would clearly be a tall, strong man one day. He was clever enough to find ways to get some of the extra food his body needed compared to smaller lads. Even Sam’s stepmother let him give his friend the leftovers if there were any, or the odd crust of yesterday’s bread because, like most people, she didn’t like to see a child go short of food and the lad always looked so hungry.
As he grew older Tyler eventually began holding down a man’s job. By sixteen he was tall and strong. He was also pleasant, hard-working, and reliable, and local employers took him on for all sorts of casual work. His cleverness persisted, and over the years he learned many practical skills, from plumbing and woodwork to laying bricks and mending thatch. He used his evenings for reading and studying, despite his aunt and uncle’s disdain, and made little attempt to join in any of the local social events that the church and chapel held for their young folk. He avoided girls as much as he could, making no attempt to chat to them, let alone to start courting one, though some of them tried to catch his attention.
One day Sam asked him why he wasn’t joining in most of the younger folk’s social activities. ‘The girls like you, Tyler. They say you’re handsome and strong, and there are a few who would love to walk out with you, if you asked them.’
‘Because I don’t want to find myself a wife,’ Tyler replied bluntly. ‘I don’t intend to get married until I can make enough money to feed and clothe a family properly.’ His voice grew bitter. ‘And if I ever have any children, I intend to give them a good education that will lead to a better job. Till I can do that there’s only one way to make absolutely sure I don’t have any responsibilities, and that’s to keep away from lasses.’
‘Haven’t you ever wanted to walk out with a pretty lass?’
Tyler’s voice grew even sharper. ‘Of course I have. It’s only natural for a young chap to want a wife and all that entails. But I shan’t let myself do anything about it until I can make certain any children I have won’t have to spend their lives doing tedious jobs that bring in very little money.’
‘Is the work you do that bad?’
Tyler shrugged. ‘Not really. I like plumbing, and my boss is pleasant enough because I’m a good worker, but my aunt and uncle still take my full wages – or, at least, what they think is my full wages.’ He winked, then sent his friend a keen look. ‘I might ask you the same question, Sam. You’re making no attempt to court any of the lasses, either. And you have quite a bit of money behind you already, thanks to what your godfather left you, so you could easily afford to get married soon if you wanted to.’ He sent Sam a sly look. ‘And I’ve always wondered about you and L—’ Abruptly he stopped, as if thinking better of it.
Sam felt a slow flush on his cheeks. ‘About what?’ he asked, deciding to brazen it out.
‘You and Laura Barker,’ Tyler returned defiantly. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think she isn’t watching. And she looks at you, too.’
‘Does she?’ This was very interesting information, and for a moment Sam allowed his heart to dream. But he had to be strong. ‘Could you imagine what life would be like if I married young, Tyler? I couldn’t bring L—a wife home to Ollerton House with her in residence. My stepmother would bully any poor girl who came in her way. You should see how she treats the staff,’ he added bitterly, ‘and I can’t do anything about it.’ He shook his head. ‘No, I couldn’t subject anyone to that, least of all someone I lov—cared for.’
He saw that Tyler was eyeing him with sympathy, so he deliberately brightened his tone. ‘Besides, I want to travel and see other places before I settle down. And I’m really looking forward to getting away from my stepmother. She’s a nasty piece of work. She and my father say they’ll not give me permission to travel, and now that I have finished school I have to work and hand in most of my wages, but I shan’t bother to ask when I decide to go. I’ll just leave. I know I need to wait until I look old enough, but I’ve started making plans. I’ll probably go when I’m eighteen, so long as I can pass for twenty-one by then.’
Tyler’s jaw dropped. ‘That’s a great notion. Just leave. Keep your own money that you earn. We should go together!’ His gaze grew distant. ‘See other parts of England, somewhere other than this valley.’
‘Don’t you like living in Ollindale?’
‘I love it,’ Tyler said simply. ‘The moors, the lake, the happy memories from when my parents were alive. I could never stay away forever. But I might go away for a few years, like you. Until I’m twenty-one and legally free of my aunt and uncle.’
Sam sighed. ‘Twenty-one seems a long way away when we’re only sixteen.’
Tyler grinned. ‘But eighteen isn’t so far! We’ll pass the time by making plans. We’ll need savings behind us, too. You have your own money, but I’ll have to figure out how to hide my money from my aunt and uncle.’
‘Good thing your boss has given your pay rise secretly to you.’
‘I told him I’d leave if he didn’t, and he knows I’m a good worker. I’ve hidden the extra money under my mattress, but it’s only a matter of time before my aunt finds it.’
Sam lowered his voice. ‘I can help with a hiding place, at least. I’ve already had to hide some money from my stepmother.’ He gave Tyler a wolfish smile. ‘She hasn’t found anything, not even a penny. I’m not stupid enough to keep the spare money from my allowance or my wages at home. That hollow tree has kept its secret well for me.’
‘The hollow tree where we used to hide conkers?’
‘The very one.’
‘Perfect.’ Tyler thought for a moment. ‘Can your stepmother take your inheritance?’
Sam shook his head. ‘That legacy from my godfather has been left directly to me – he was my mother’s uncle, nothing to do with my stepmother.’ He shrugged. ‘Regardless, my father and stepmother can only boss me around until I’m twenty-one.’
‘That part is the same for me. So if we do go away, we will have to stay away until we’re twenty-one.’
‘Agreed.’
2
A year later there was another bad epidemic of influenza, and this time Sam’s father was one of the first to die. James Newby – a man who had always seemed to be in the prime of life, fit and healthy, likely to live to a ripe old age, yet he could not be saved. He left behind a greedy, grasping widow and a grieving son who at nearly seventeen was not yet considered old enough to live independently.
When the will was read, Sam was relieved – and a little surprised – to find that she hadn’t managed to persuade her husband to leave everything to her. Thank goodness his father had believed that women couldn’t deal efficiently with money and business. Despite benefitting from his father’s views, Sam didn’t agree with him about that. He watched what was going on around him much more carefully than most lads his age, and had come to the conclusion that many women were as clever as men but life didn’t seem to allow them do as much with their brains. Well, having babies prevented it for most of them. Babies took a lot of creating and looking after, from what he’d seen.
A week after the funeral, Sam came home from his job at a plumbing and hardware supplies firm to find that his stepmother had opened a letter addressed to him – something his father would never have done. Sam was furious and they had a huge row. Taking the letter, he found that Mr Schofield, the family lawyer, was asking him to go and see him at his earliest convenience to deal with various matters arising from the will.
His stepmother confronted him about it again over the evening meal, insisting that she should go with him, as it would be up to her to manage his inheritance.
He simply said, ‘No, thank you. The letter was addressed to me, and it asked me to come, not you. I am sure if Mr Schofield wanted you there, he’d have said so.’
‘You’re only sixteen! Don’t you dare go to see him without me!’
He didn’t reply, but simply left work mid-morning the next day, informing his boss that he had something to attend to because of his father’s death and promising to make up the time later.
After offering his condolences again, the lawyer surprised him by saying, ‘I’ve already received a visit from your stepmother this morning, Sam. She told me not to give you any information about the will without her being present, because she thinks she’ll be the one managing things till you come of age. But I’m not going to do that, and she definitely won’t be managing your inheritance. Legally, it was left specifically to the care of your trustees.’
Sam vaguely remembered this part of the will, but the experience had been rather overwhelming, and he wasn’t sure he had fully understood it all. ‘And who are my trustees?’
‘Me and Walter Crossley,’ Mr Schofield confirmed, and Sam nodded, happy with his father’s choice. Two good men. ‘However, the will also appoints Mrs Newby as your guardian, with an express wish that she live with you and take care of you until you come of age.’ Sam shook his head sadly. His father had always been blind to Clara’s true feelings towards Sam. He had probably been trying to protect him by insisting Clara take care of him until he was twenty-one, unaware of Clara’s hatred towards Sam. She cares for no one but herself.
‘And does my stepmother know this?’
‘She does. However, she refused to accept that she isn’t a trustee.’
‘What on earth does she think she’s doing?’ Sam said angrily, then answered his own question, adding bitterly, ‘She’s still trying to get her hands on the Newby family money, of course.’
‘Sadly, you may be right. And perhaps even your legacy from your mother’s family too. I suspect your father had guessed that she would,’ Mr Schofield said. ‘As you know, your godfather’s legacy is safely held in the bank, and is already yours to spend as you wish, though I hope you will accept guidance from me and from Walter. In terms of your father’s estate, your stepmother has been left a respectable lump sum and a generous allowance, including half the rent from the cottages that are now yours. She also has the right to live in the family home with you to take care of you until you are twenty-one. However, should she remarry she would forego the allowance and the rental income as well as the residency rights. She is also required to live with you in Ollerton House in order to maintain her right to stay there.’ He paused, then continued carefully, ‘The will is all above board, of course, and I have fully explained its provisions to your stepmother. She is your guardian until you come of age, as is routine in these circumstances. Nevertheless, it is a little unusual that your stepmother was not included as a trustee. May I suggest that we practise a small subterfuge to make her think it won’t be worth trying to bring a legal case about it?’
‘I’m happy to listen to your ideas.’
‘It was your father’s suggestion actually, in case anything should happen to him.’
Sam smiled sadly. ‘Dad always did prepare for the worst, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, he did. Though the worst rarely happened because he was a sensible chap. Er . . . except perhaps where his remarriage was concerned, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
‘I don’t mind at all. In fact I agree with you. And Dad was usually sensible, as well as being a loving father to me. What was his suggestion?’
‘He wanted us to tell her that under his management the family fortune had been much reduced, but will regenerate slowly and gradually if the various investments are left untouched. We’ll keep the real financial details from her. She won’t be quite as desperate to get hold of your inheritance then, I hope. And remember, she has no right to the information.’
‘And has the amount of money actually been diminished?’
‘Certainly not. On the contrary; your father was one of the shrewdest businessmen I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. You have sizeable assets, including Ollerton House, some cottages here in Ollerthwaite, quite a few shares, and a substantial sum in the Newby family trust fund which generates interest every month. Like your stepmother, you will receive a monthly allowance from that account, and together you will pay the household costs from it. It will be good for you to manage a budget every month.’
‘That’s good to know. My father taught me a lot about dealing with money when Clara wasn’t around. I’ll do whatever you suggest is best.’
‘Leave it to me and Walter then, and pretend you’re not very interested in wider financial matters.’
To Sam’s surprise, his stepmother accepted all this. She went into mourning, lived quietly, and even won the approval of the other ladies for her seemly behaviour. It took him a while to realise why she was behaving so meekly in public: to gain the approval of the ladies who were the social leaders. She had never quite been fully accepted before, even with a husband of higher social standing, and now that she was on her own, she had to tread even more carefully.
He avoided her as much as he could and borrowed books about finances from the library, studying them carefully and discussing them with Tyler, feeling impatient now to reach manhood and freedom, and building their plans to escape, even before legal independence. He and Tyler also started to read about different places in England, enjoying the notion that they could choose where to go. In the process they learned things they might never have known, and broadened their minds as much as they could from library books.
Since his stepmother wasn’t a reader, he was quite sure she wouldn’t even take into consideration the information he could acquire from the library. The librarian had been allowing him to borrow adult books since he turned twelve, and some of these books had taught him about businesses and how they were usually run. He’d particularly enjoyed reading about how some famous men had made their fortunes, not just in Britain but in other more vibrant parts of the world such as America, the Antipodes, and the Far East.
Sam’s stepmother insisted on the papers being delivered every day, but only because she considered it the right thing for people like them to do. She herself only read the front page headlines, the local news, and the weekly women’s page. She never even tried to check what her stepson was reading and would probably have thrown a fit if she’d known that he was regularly studying and understanding the financial pages, a section she threw away unread together with all the more serious pages of the newspapers.
Annie, their housemaid, always retrieved the abandoned newspapers for him and he’d learned a lot from the articles in them. He felt that soon he would be old enough to make changes to his life. He’d had a sudden spurt of growth during the past few months and it felt good to be taller than his stepmother. But he still hadn’t fully got a man’s strength, and was rather thin and still a bit clumsy at managing this new body. Folk called it the ‘gangling’ stage, from the awkward way young men looked and moved sometimes as they finished growing into manhood.
The cook-housekeeper, Mrs Holt, who was known simply as Cook, always had a lot of uses for the old newspapers, and Sam passed them back to her for cleaning and wrapping various messy items. Afterwards she always gathered the ones she didn’t need and gave them to the rag-and-bone man in return for holystones to clean and brighten the paving stones on the footpath outside the front gate. That old chap came round every week or two pushing his handcart, shouting his need for ‘rag an’ bones’ at the top of a hoarse, blurry voice. He collected not only old newspapers but anything else that people wanted to throw away, and he was able to supply Sam occasionally with financial magazines that business gentlemen enjoyed, for which the lad paid a tiny amount, so that the buying and selling pleased both of them.
The financial articles fascinated Sam and helped him to gradually build up a picture of how businesses and banks functioned in the wider world. He also gained some initial ideas about where the most financial benefits might lie for him in the future. He read with particular interest any article featuring how a particularly successful businessman had made his fortunes and he enjoyed trying to figure out what had made some of them more successful than others.
He hoped he’d understood it well enough, and felt he was probably getting there from his regular discussions with Walter, Mr Schofield, and, occasionally, the bank manager. He wasn’t going to dive rashly into any sort of business expenditure once he escaped at eighteen, but he did use some of the money his godfather had left him to try a few minor experiments with shares, and made a pound or two profit here and there whenever he saw a possibility. That helped him build up some modest financial reserves to fund his travels, and helped him feel as though he was beginning to understand certain things – like risk and how to judge it.
Gradually he grew more skilful, until he reached the point where he made money most of the time with his little investments. He didn’t feel it was conceited to think he had a flair for financial matters and that one day he would use that properly on a much larger scale. As his body filled out, he was also quietly growing in confidence, finding out who he was and what he was good at. He hadn’t felt like a boy for a long time, and now that his father was gone it was a signal that it was time to become a man.
3
Worthing, Sussex
Nell Walton wept secretly when her mother said she was getting married again, and to Victor Warley of all people. She had taken an instant dislike to him, and at first she could not have said exactly why. Over time she realised it was because she didn’t believe him. Didn’t believe the charm with which he had captivated her mother, a lonely widow. Something about it – about him – simply did not ring true.
After the wedding he settled into their house as if he had always owned it and was kindly letting them stay there with him, though he only remained kind as long as they did exactly what he told them at all times.
She watched in dismay as he began to criticise her mother in small ways, while hi. . .
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