A Stranger Light

by Gloria Cook

  ‘No! I won’t accept them. She offered Tremore to me first. She and Uncle Tris can’t override that,’ Lottie fumed.

  ‘I’m afraid that is what will happen. He doesn’t want Faye to go away. He’s talked her into going to Roskerne to think things over for a couple of weeks. She’s leaving with Simon in the morning. No one must mention this outside these four walls. There’s no need for Pearl and the twins to know about this if she decides to stay.’

  Lottie understood the position of all those at Tremore House, but she was also angry with them. To have everything she had wanted handed to her, to have spent a few wonderful hours planning and reveling in what she’d thought was to be her fixture, then to have it all taken away, was too much to bear. She was shaking. Her fists were clenched. Tears streamed down her face. ‘It’s not fair.’ She meant to say it as a whisper, but the cry of despair came out as a twisted snarl.

  ‘Not fair?’ Nate exploded. ‘Don’t be so bloody childish. Your cousin’s going through hell. She’s desperate about her son’s future. She’s thinking she’s got no option but to give up her home and family and to face a lonely life. That’s what’s called sacrifice, Lottie! Haven’t you any notion of that? You only think about yourself. This should be the happiest and most promising time of my life. Sharing my future with my wife, my son and a new baby. Damn it, if I’d have known…’ He glanced at Emilia, Perry and Edwin with utter frustration. ‘I’m sorry.’ He left the room.

  The sitting room stayed in stunned silence except for Lottie’s uncontrollable sobs. Nate could be heard stamping out of the farmhouse. Lottie had lost all sensation in her body, and was not conscious of her mother and stepfather sitting her down.

  ‘Poor maid,’ Edwin said. Usually he was a fount of wisdom and common sense, but all this had left him flustered and he was wringing his old flat cap round and round in his hands. ‘I’ll get Tilda to bring her some tea.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ Emilia said. ‘But it’s going to take more than that to put things right.’

  Edwin trudged along the passage to the kitchen. Lottie’s thoughtless actions were threatening her marriage. She had her family to turn to, but Nate had no one.

  Tom and Jill were in sitting in a field, on the other side of the hedge where the ford passed across the lane. There was only a trickle of water in the narrow stream, for there had been little recent rain, but here, in one of their favourite spots, was always a wealth of wild growth. Common valerian, water avens and forget-me-nots and, more rarely, pink marsh orchids. Tom was chewing on peppery watercress leaves. ‘Want to go for a drink, darling?’

  She gazed at the grass blade she was twisting round her little finger. ‘I’d rather stay here. I shouldn’t have rushed out like that, adding to the drama.’

  ‘You mustn’t feel sorry. You’ve the right to expect peace in your own home. The way Lottie treats you is out of order. When you came to work at the farm, she made a close friend of you. Now she seems to resent you. You do nothing to get in her way. I can’t stand you being treated unfairly. Are you hurt?’

  ‘Not really. I think I understand Lottie. She envies me. I’ve seen you every day since we first met. I’ve not had to endure long separations like she had. I have your undivided attention, which, in the light of Nate not coming to her straight after his demob, can’t really be said for him. I have a settled home. The refurbishments are going ahead, and Lottie’s had to listen to me and your mother talking about new curtains and stuff. Lottie’s never lived away from home. She’s always been spoiled. She’s strong-willed, but she’s still young in her mind. She had a great excitement to share, but sadly for her she didn’t go about it the right way. She must be feeling humiliated. And now she’s pregnant she’s bound to be emotional. She’s a bit of a powder keg waiting to go off. She’s terribly unhappy, Tom. It’s easy to see that.’

  Tom kissed her and held her close. ‘You’re so kind-hearted and sensitive. Always ready to forgive. Just some of the reasons I love you so much. Makes me wonder if Lottie really fell in love with Nate. She saw him, she wanted him and she got him. But she didn’t get the chance to get to know him. All they had were a few hours together when he got leave. It’s an awful thought that he might have given up everything for her, that she’s put all her hopes in him, only to find they aren’t at all suited. And we can’t do a thing to help them.’ Tom snuggled Jill into him even closer. ‘Darling, apart from the unpleasant atmosphere, was there any other reason why you ran out?’

  Jill took a moment to luxuriate in his devotion. ‘It was the way that Lottie admitted she was pregnant. The way she was so blasé about it made me angry. And it upset me. With the good news about Elena Killigrew, it made two announcements of a baby on the way in one day. I’ve started to really long to have a baby. I was going to tell you tonight that I’m getting a bit worried about it.’

  ‘Oh, Jill.’ He squeezed her gently. ‘We probably don’t have to worry yet. Do we? I mean, it took years for Elena to be having this baby. And don’t forget about Mum. She was married to Perry for years before Paul was born.’

  ‘Put like that, it is early days for us yet, I suppose.’ Trying to forget how quickly Lottie, and many other women she knew, had conceived, Jill kissed him hungrily on the mouth. ‘We’ve got all the fun of trying.’

  Roused instantly to passion, Tom pushed up her blouse and put his hand inside her brassiere. Jill hauled up her skirt then started on his belt. Sometimes they indulged in love play, teasing and tantalizing each other, making it last for hours, sending out secret signals, to finally delight themselves with lengthy, do-everything intimacy. This was to be quick and delicious.

  Sensing something, they both stopped, pulling their clothes together. Someone was marching down the hill from the farm on heavy feet. ‘Who is it?’ Jill whispered.

  From the other side of the hedge came an angry exclamation.

  ‘It’s Nate. He’s in one hell of a temper, probably on the way to the pub. Couldn’t blame him if he gets blotto.’

  ‘Perhaps you should go with him, Tom.’

  ‘I don’t know. Might be better if he was left on his own. Everywhere the poor bugger turns there’s a Harvey. He needs space to work out what’s happening between him and Lottie.’

  ‘What do you mean, exactly?’

  ‘Pretty obvious, isn’t it? They’re in danger of breaking up. I hope their marriage can be saved, of course, but I can’t see how unless one or both of them give way. Lottie’s stubborn, and right now she’s hysterical. Now I’ve seen more of Nate, he’s a stubborn so-and-so too. They’re both always ready to dig in their heels, and neither of them might emerge the winner.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Nate woke flat on his back, a thundering headache making it unwise to open his eyes. Where the hell was he? He was on a firm surface, but not in bed, that was for sure. He felt about with his hands. Grass. He was outside somewhere. His hands were stung – nettles. Twigs. Leaves. His clothes were damp, his skin clammy. Birds were singing the joyful wake-up call of early dawn. He’d had too much to drink in the Ploughshare and stayed out all night. Lottie must have been worried about him. No, she’d be absolutely furious, thinking him thoughtless and irresponsible, a selfish swine. He couldn’t argue with that.

  He preferred sleeping under the stars. Had spent weeks at a time back home camping out on the prairie with his herds, free and alive. With nature and in nature: cattle, eagles, buzzards and wild cats; distant mountains and vast rolling treeless land. He and the hands had sung to guitars and harmonicas, played cards, talked of their dreams. Most of all they had enjoyed the solid friendship, the trust of men totally relying on each in case of a stampede or wild critter attack, or rattler bite. He had given it all up for Lottie, who didn’t love him.

  ‘Hello. How long are you going to stay down there?’ It was Jill’s soft voice.

  He had not heard her approach. Groaning, he stretched his stiff limbs and eased himself up on to his elbows. Jill was gazing down on him, holding
a basket with both hands. ‘Oh, Jill. I guess I’ve disgraced myself. Does Lottie know I didn’t get in last night? She’ll be madder than hell.’

  ‘I haven’t seen her yet. I got up early to go mushrooming. I expect she’ll have thought you slept in one of the spare rooms.’ Jill was full of sympathy for him. He was going to get it in the neck when Lottie surfaced. ‘Want a hand getting up?’

  ‘I think I’ll be obliged to.’ He stretched up a hand, she put the basket down, and after a lot of hauling he was on his feet, gripping the back of his head. ‘Thanks.’ He sighed out the tension.

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘I don’t suppose Tom’s ever gone AWOL on you like this. Can’t see you ever driving him to drink.’ Nate liked Jill. She was modest and good-hearted. None of the Harvey touch of arrogance and quick temper had rubbed off on her. She was a pretty sight, with her long wavy ash-blonde hair, in a light sweater, trousers and Wellington boots. In a long white frock she’d look like an angel. ‘I’ve slept out many a night with my unit during training and the Liberation. French countryside is a lot like it is here. I used to pretend I was still at Feock, getting ready for the landings, with Lottie just a few miles away. I saw so much pain and suffering, but as crazy as it sounds, life seemed so much simpler then. Lottie resents me and I don’t know what I can do about it.’

  ‘Nate.’ Jill was about to ask the question on the lips of all the family. ‘Do you regret leaving Texas?’

  He raked a despairing hand through his hair. ‘Hell, Jill, I don’t know. I’m pleased to be with my boy. But the way Lottie was yesterday, well, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I feel an outsider here. Redundant. I hate hanging about doing nothing. All I get to do is to exercise the horses. When I ask to help out on the farm, everyone encourages me to spend the time with Lottie and Carl. They keep reminding me how long we’ve spent apart. How am I supposed to learn the difference between running an English farm and ranching? Why does no one ever see my point of view?’

  ‘We do, Nate, but I can see we need to do more for you.’ Jill kept her voice gentle and soothing. ‘I suppose the thing is Lottie’s full of energy and likes to go her own way. We’re all too used to letting her have it. Tom picks her up, but he often drops an argument just for the sake of peace.’

  ‘What can I do? I hope you don’t mind me asking, seems to me you’re the best person to go to for advice. You’ve successfully blended in with the family.’

  ‘Since you’ve asked me that, Nate, do you want me to be totally honest?’

  ‘Fire away.’ He braced himself, sure his honest sister-in-law would tell him stuff he would find hard to accept. He needed to know. He couldn’t put things right if he didn’t know all that was wrong, and what decisions, perhaps some painful, that he’d have to make.

  Jill took a deep breath. She never sought to tell home truths. This wasn’t going to be easy for her and probably not for him, although Nate didn’t possess the sort of pride that was selfishly blinkered. ‘I think you’re right about Lottie resenting you, for two reasons. Nate, we all feel you left it rather too long to join her, and you should have at least told her why. Lottie was hurt. As your wife she should have come first, even above a dying friend. It’s how Tom would have treated me. Perhaps your experiences during the fighting desensitized you to the usual feelings, but Lottie didn’t go through the same things. All it seemed to her was that she was kept waiting and waiting and not really knowing why.’

  ‘Well,’ he puffed, rubbing at his neck, ‘that hit straight home. I guess I haven’t really taken her feelings into account. And the other reason? What else have I done wrong?’

  ‘I might be way off the mark, and it might sound a bit strange, and I hasten to add it’s only what has occurred to me, is that you’re the one who is going to take Lottie away from her home. She’s eager to go, to have her own home, and I’m sure she’d happily go anywhere with you, but again you are missing how much it will mean to her to give up all she’s ever known. Since she was a little girl Lottie had been expecting to inherit part of the farm, but she handed her share over to Tom so she could have a totally new start with you. Lottie doesn’t want to compare her sacrifice with the one you’ve made, but it’s important to her that you see what she’s done.’

  Nate leaned against a beehive, using his thumbnail to pick off a bit of the white-painted ridged wood. ‘So what you’re saying is that I’m blunt and my finer feelings have been dulled. And that I’ve swept aside all that really matters to Lottie. I guess you’re right. I’ve spent nearly all my life roughing it with men. Goodness knows I didn’t know how to behave with Lottie when I first met her at the village dance. I’d been with women before, but I fell instantly in love with Lottie, it spooked me and I ran out on her that night. Now I’ve got to get to know her, all about her, and figure out how to make our marriage work.’ He went quiet.

  Jill lifted the basket and turned over a few of the plump white mushrooms, their undersides showing brown. I'll leave you to think, Nate. I hope you and Lottie put things right soon. You’ve got Carl and a new baby to look forward to. Then come in for breakfast. Tilda will be frying these in butter, I know you like them.’

  He nodded, grateful for her advice and company. He was unable to speak, for tears were blinding him.

  He went into the house shortly afterward, hoping not to have to face Lottie in front of his in-laws. He was in luck, and he slipped upstairs to their bedroom. Lottie was dressed but half-sitting, half-lying on the bed.

  ‘You look a mess.’ There was no accusation in her husky tone, and he guessed right that she had cried through most of the night. She seemed defeated and lacking all her usual spark.

  He went up her. ‘I’m sorry, I mean it, Lottie. I had too much to drink. I think the locals put it down to my not being used to English beer, so there shouldn’t be the wrong sort of gossip. Do you want to talk?’

  ‘If you do,’ she mumbled, looking straight ahead, her fingers picking at a hanky.

  He sat on the bed and leaned across her, putting his hands down either side of her. Lottie returned his solemn gaze. ‘I don’t really know where to begin, but I think, and I hope you’ll agree, that we need to be on our own. I mean away from the farm. It isn’t right anyway that we upset the rest of the household. Lottie, would you consider us renting a house somewhere until things are settled?’

  ‘Settled? Do you mean if we decide to stay together or find our own farm?’ She looked directly into his eyes.

  He met her stony gaze. There was no question of them parting; there was no way he was giving up his son and expected child. ‘It won’t be Tremore, but I’ll get you a farm that’s just right for you, I promise.’ He had an idea to save his marriage, and he would use any means to accomplish it.

  * * *

  Susan was alone in Tremore House, going mechanically through her household duties. Once a place of joy to work in, the house now felt bleak and empty. Faye had left with Simon this morning for Roskerne, saying she wanted to spend a few days alone before the migration of the whole household went ahead. Susan had seen that Faye was tired, but she had been tight-lipped and frosty, had seemed hurt and angry, and after hugging Tristan and the Smiths goodbye, she had given her and Mark only a curt farewell. It was as if she’d had something against them both.

  Tristan had made a lot of cheery noises, but Susan and Mark had communicated anxious looks. ‘Has Faye been overdoing it? I hope I haven’t been a burden to her.’ Mark had chewed a fingernail. ‘Perhaps it’s time I moved out. I was intending to ask about renting Rose Dew anyway. It won’t be long before it’s habitable. Do you think it would be all right?’

  ‘Faye just needs a little time to herself,’ Tristan had replied, keeping up the bright and breezy manner. ‘She’s left all the decisions to me. I’d be delighted to have you rent Rose Dew, to have you stay among us, and I’m sure Faye would be too, but please don’t feel you should move out until the cottage is ready and you feel ready yourself.’


  Susan was left feeling bad for not making a closer friend of Faye. Faye might have confided what the problem was, and she might have been able to comfort or advise her. She felt her position at Tremore would never be the same. It certainly wouldn’t be if she acted on an unscrupulous suggestion of her brother’s from the day before.

  Taking ironed laundry into Pearl’s front bedroom, she relived the horror of seeing Kenny waiting on her doorstep. He’d made a jolly fuss of Maureen, and the inquisitive, friendly girl was quickly won over by the large box of chocolates he’d brought for her, and the porcelain doll he’d proudly announced came all the way from Paris, France. In another box was a sumptuous dinner gown for Susan, and there had been perfume and make-up. No doubt, black market goods. There had been no choice but to invite him inside to share their tea.

  ‘Mum bought a cake from the cake stall.’ Maureen had chattered about the Bring and Buy. 'I've got this. It’s a nightie case, made from real satin and lace. Mr Tris bought it for me.’

  ‘The gent from Tremore House? He must dote on you, and no wonder, you’re a bobby-dazzler.’ Kenny had tweaked her nose. ‘Now you’ve got your Uncle Kenny to dote on you too. I should have kept in touch with your mum. I was naughty. Got lots of birthdays and Christmases to make up for. We’ve got lots of fun ahead, Mo, just see if we don’t.’

  ‘Really?’ Maureen eyed her uncle as if her brain was ticking away.

  Susan shook her head. She could see her daughter was working out what she might get out of her ‘long-lost’ uncle; Maureen had inherited some of her father’s calculating nature. She would put a stop to Kenny shortening Maureen’s name. Silently, she had set the table. ‘I’m afraid there’s not many sandwiches. Bread rationing has just got tighter and I haven’t had time to bake my own.’