Alison shuddered. ‘No, I won’t, I promise. But until he leaves hospital, it’s going to be very hard.’
‘Steve and I’ll take in turns to give you a lift into Bath. There must be coaches that’ll be cheaper than the train. Check ’em out.’
Their conversation lapsed for a while. Then Alison, who had been mulling over the changes she perceived in her brother, turned to him curiously. ‘Have you any idea what you’re going to do yet? Are you going to take Gran up on her offer?’
Charlie was thoughtful. ‘Probably. I don’t see any future for me staying on at the farm as a junior partner. But not immediately. Steve can’t manage without me until things have really changed. But I have in mind a business I’d like to invest in…’ and almost shyly, he told Alison about Linda and the pub.
‘So that’s why you’ve been spending all your spare time there. And I thought you were a hopeless old boozer, drinking all the farm’s money away!’
‘I certainly like the odd pint, there’s no denying that.’
‘Are you and Linda…are you two going to get it together?’
Charlie laughed, ‘It’s early days yet, Ali. That’s why I’m going to carry on with the farm. No sense in rushing things. She’s been badly hurt by Stan and I’m not gonna queer my pitch by jumping in with both feet. No, it’s going to be strictly business – to begin with.’
‘I thought you wanted to own a motocross circuit?’
Charlie sighed. ‘I thought so, too. It was something I enjoyed dreaming of doing, ever since I was a kid, but thinking about it – really thinking about it, it somehow doesn’t seem so important any more.’
‘D’ye know, Charlie, that’s a little the way I feel about being a vet, at the moment.’
Charlie was shocked by this revelation. ‘What? But you’ve always wanted to be a vet. You’re the brains in the family. You’re not going to duck out of university are you?’
‘ No,’ Alison replied, slowly. ‘But I’m not necessarily going to train to be a vet. I’ve decided to have a year off before I go – a gap year. It’ll give me a chance to earn some money for when I do go, and the space to decide what I really want to study.’
The journey was finished more or less in silence until they turned down the road into Summerstoke.
‘Charlie, do you think Hugh Lester is going to give up trying to get Marsh Farm? I can’t see it myself.’
‘He’s a bad loser, that’s for sure. But I told him that if I so much as caught a whiff of him trying anything else on, I’d spill the story of his games to the press.’
Alison’s eyes widened, ‘You did? When?’
Charlie blushed, ‘Thursday evening. Before Gran’s meeting. When I gave him a price for the farm.’
‘You didn’t?! I thought you’d dropped the whole idea by then?’
‘I had, but I wanted to see him squirm, knowing that I knew everything.’
Alison was impressed. ‘Good. And I hope he squirmed.’
‘Oh yes, he did. He tried to clock me one. Nasty little git.’
‘But the press is in his pocket, they’re all mates together. Why should he worry about any threat of exposure?’
‘Believe me, Ali, faced with a story like this – one that is far too good to miss – friendship would take a back seat, and he knows it.’
Alison’s opinion of her eldest brother went up yet another notch, shortly after their return. She had just sat down to a plate of something Jenny cheerfully described as tuna and macaroni bake, when Charlie poked his head around the kitchen door and told her to join him in the yard. He led her to the bike shed.
‘This, Ali, is the answer to your transport problems.’
‘This’ turned out to be a small, rusty moped.
Alison stared at it, then at Charlie.
‘It’s my moped. The one Gran bought me when I was seventeen. I wanted a motorbike and I was so choked, I hardly ever used it. It’s been at the back of the bike shed for years. I’ll get Lenny to give it the once over – there’s not much wrong with it. Get yourself a provisional licence; I’ll give you a few lessons, then, hey presto – you’re in business. You’ll have your own wheels. What d’you say?’
For a moment, Alison was overcome. Then, much to Charlie’s surprise, she flung her arms around his neck, laughing and crying, ‘Charlie, you are the best!’
Postscript
A couple of months later, Veronica Lester picked up the local paper and read that Marsh Farm was going to be used as a location for a new TV comedy series. She was so angry that marital relations were broken off, and not resumed for many weeks.
A Tangled Summer Page 42
