Cartmel Fell, 1886.

It was a Monday. Washday on the farm. Anthony Taylor and his two younger brothers Richard and John were weary and ready for the dinner that always awaited their return. His mother and four sisters would be waiting, demanding to know every detail of the morning's work.

He stiffened as he entered the low beamed kitchen. A reception committee of all five females awaited, ten hands firmly clamped on ten hips. Lizzy, the eldest of his sisters, grasped an envelope.

Anthony looked from one to the other of all five faces and steeled himself.

"Found your waistcoat hanging behind the door. Mother said it should be washed..."

She jabbed the paper which she now held outstretched towards him.

"That's my letter" The colour drained from his ruddy cheeks as the ghastly realisation dawned on him- he had not put the waistcoat back on under his jacket after coming in for breakfast.

"signed yours affectionately, your loving wife" she held his gaze. The last three words were delivered with an unmistakeable sneer.

"You thought fit to read it?" He did not raise his voice.

"Well, I couldn't help but see." Her gaze slipped away now.

"Mother wants an explanation!" He turned to face the icy sparkle in Janie's gaze.

A suffocating silence hung heavily in the air, punctuated only by the relentless tick of the grandfather clock.

"It's true. I knew you'd take it badly so we were married by special licence at Carnforth so as to keep it quiet."

"We?"

"Annie and me Annie " He drew himself up to his full height before continuing. "Annie Gee and me - we're married mother, the deed is done."

His sisters chorused their disapproval.

"Annie from the hall? She has a child dear God Anthony, what has possessed you" his mother hissed.

"Naywhisht, lasses! A more loving mother or finer woman is not likely to come my way. I'm hardly a good catch misell now, am I?"

"You mek a fair pair then!" Janie's eyes flashed green at Anthony again in a way he was not to understand for many years.

Anthony left the house later that same day.

"We'll make Gateside our home Mother."

Richard Taylor, my great grandfather, thus described these events to me as he neared the end of his life. I half listened, drugged by the dry heat of the room, and by the soporific ticking of the grandfather clock that stood watch over us. He described how communication ceased after his elder brother Anthony's sudden departure from the farm; thus it happened that the family never did get to know Anthony's wife. He was sure now that they were the poorer for that. They knew only the village talk: that Annie was a seamstress at Lord Derby's residenceWitherslack Hall, where her father was head gamekeeper; and Annie had a son, William, whose father, it was said, was none other than Lord Derby himself. It was also said that Annie had, in fact, been married, to a Mr. Gee, a ship's purser, who had died suddenly before the child's birth. Indeed he was a very mysterious figure indeed - no-one local had ever met him.

In time Anthony, Annie and William set up home at Gateside and appeared to make a slender living from the produce of their garden; Anthony became renown for his produce, especially his gooseberries - Golden Droppers - which always fetched a good price. Anthony became very fond of William, passing on his own shepherding skills. They were content. Anthony's spinster sisters remained at home.

Gateside, 1901.

Anthony returned to the house weary from digging. William followed close behind: "Mother, Father's lagging - I've lapped him twice!" He teased gently. It raised a smile from Anthony, which evaporated the moment he saw Annie's face and the letter she held.

Later, alone, they talked.

"Let's just refuse and do without the money" Anthony's voice was thin and desperate.

He had always known that the slender living from their market garden was not the only money - he knew William was provided for. Letters from solicitors in London had come before. But not like this one. "Arrangements must be made for William's permanent relocation to Australia a lucrative position has been located"- why could this be?

"He hasn't done anything wrong! Has he Annie?

"There's something else I should tell you. Everyone thought that William's father was Lord Derby"

"Yesthat explains the money. What is it, love?"

"Wellit suited me to let everyone believe that. But his father was not anyone who lived at the Hall - it was a very frequent visitorthe shooting parties would stay for weeks"

"Go on - " Anthony encouraged her gently. This was something they had both chosen not to talk about until now.

"I know this is hard, love, but Will's father is Bertie, and his grandmother was Queen Victoria." His eyes followed her gaze to where her picture of their late monarch hung, so familiar they no longer saw it.

A raw silence hung heavily in the air, punctuated only by the unforgiving tick of the grandfather clock.

"It'll break our hearts to see Will go but we can't fight it - they are too powerful. They invented my Mr. Gee from scratch as a cover for the truth! The registers are all as they should be! They were well versed. No-one would believe us. It'll be good for Will, but sad for us." A tear traced its way down her flushed cheek.

Anthony opened his mouth to try and lessen his wife's heartache, only to find he was drained of words.

He managed to stretch out a sentence: "I know our Will - he'll make a go of it."

Annie managed a weak smile and nodded: "We must hide our pains and try to let on what a fine move it could be - there's no future here for him - not one that comes close to the position of master over thousands of acres of sheep ground. We should give him a proper send off"

"I can't face a celebration"

"No. I have a better idea"

The clock ticked on as Annie signed the documents.

"We'll talk to Will tomorrow."

Grandfather coughed. "William's sixteenth birthday and his departure loomed over them." He smiled as he asked me to pull the covers up for him. I unfolded the magnificent heavy quilt towards him, wondering subconsciously as I did so why the material was so familiar.

"Anthony had prepared everything, even asking me to help with the lifting. Together the four of us worked away at the entrance to Gateside. It wasn't long before we straightened our backs to gaze on the two newly planted pine trees.

"Let me know how they do, Mother" Will smiled down at her.

William made the most of his new life without ever knowing the reason for it and never returned to this country."

"When Mother died she left instructions for the clock to go to Anthony. Our Lizzie was put out! When Annie died she left us the grandfather clock, that picture of Queen Victoria over there and this here quilt."

Reawakened by the impossibility of all this, my eyes now followed his gaze to the picture, so familiar I no longer noticed it.

"You'll perhaps not believe this but she told me herself that the quilt is made entirely out of recycled pieces of Queen Victoria's old dresses. She left instructions that all her correspondence must be destroyed, so the proof is all gone. Only the quilt and the two trees remain as silent witnesses to these secrets!"

As his words faded the silence enveloped the room, only challenged by the reassuring tick of the clock. That, too, faded from my mind as my eyes again found the portrait of the Queen and I understood why the fabric of the quilt was so familiar.

Post Script: I was recently contacted by a family researching their English roots; they knew only of connections with a place a called Gateside. Their address was Canberra, Australia I will show them the towering twin trees first