Obediently Sarah took the proffered plate and went out to call her son, who took the honey and lemon biscuits and sat on the step to eat them.
‘What’s all this to do with you?’ Sarah demanded. ‘Five minutes you’ve been here and there you are, trying to solve everyone’s problems—’
‘The truth is, I’m trying to solve my own.’
‘What are you talking about?’ The anger was still there, but Sarah looked at her with curiosity.
‘I had a bad war, and I found it difficult to settle. Coming here, finding this place calmed me. It seemed to offer a friendly community that would help me to heal. It’s worked better than I’d hoped, and here I am, “only five minutes in the place”, and working at the school, making friends and… getting into trouble.’ She smiled then, and she saw the young woman relax, the stiffness leaving her face. ‘So now,’ she added, ‘I have to find a way of putting right my stupid mistakes.’
‘Not stupid, you just didn’t have all the facts.’
‘Will you tell me, so I don’t rush in like a fool again?’
‘There’s nothing to add to what Ryan told you. I was married to Owen and I had a child.’
‘It can’t be that simple. Did you love him, this other man? Did he walk away from your predicament?’
‘I sent him away, when I realized my mistake. It was Owen I loved. Believe it or not I still do. The other man was only an adventure, a stupid, childish need for danger and illicit fun. It was only later that I realized I was carrying his child, and then it was too late.’ She looked towards the door, checking Bertie wasn’t there, and added quietly, ‘I did think of getting rid of him, but I couldn’t, even though it would have saved me all this misery. I love him, even though I don’t always show it.’
Sophie heard the kettle spitting angrily, demanding to be attended to, but she didn’t dare look away from Sarah, knowing there was more to come.
‘I refused to see Owen when he came back after the three months, and I left the old farmhouse and found a rather nice flat – which I quickly realized I couldn’t afford. I didn’t give him a chance to understand or forgive as he might have done. He’s basically a decent and kindly man. We were married, and there would have been no gossip. I thought my parents would help me, but they were unsympathetic, insisting I went back to Owen, even after I told them about the baby. So, here I am, struggling to survive and making a poor showing of it. Poor Bertie, he doesn’t deserve the life I give him.’ She stood up, turned off the gas and poured the boiling water into the pot. ‘The saddest thing of all is that Owen might have accepted the child, even knowing it wasn’t his. He wanted a son so badly, and I’ve even deprived him of that.’
It was no wonder, Sophie mused, that the man was so ill tempered.
‘I promised Bertie new shoes a week ago – even chose them and asked the shop to keep them – but by the time I’d bought some extra coupons I didn’t have enough money. I owe a few pounds, you see, and have to pay it back a little each week. Oh, what a mess.’
‘I’m good at managing on very little,’ Sophie said quietly. ‘Will you let me help you?’
‘No, I’m almost clear now, just a few pounds to the coalman and the grocer. I’ll be able to get the new shoes very soon.’
*
Betty Connors stood at the door of the Ship and Compass, staring along the road and hoping for a sight of her brother. He was late and there were bottles needing to be brought up from the cellar and a barrel to tap if she wasn’t to run out before closing time. Eddie was becoming more and more unreliable these days and she began to wonder if one day he’d forget about his work completely.
With less than an hour to go before opening time, she closed the door behind her and went to the house where Elsie lived. She had never called there before asking if her brother was there and the idea embarrassed her, but she had to have help; she couldn’t manage the cellar work and Ed knew this. She heard voices and laughter from inside and imagined him sitting there without a care, while she was frantic to get ready for opening. Irritation made her knock on Elsie’s door more loudly than intended.
A second knock was necessary before she heard the sound of someone coming, and she stepped back, trying to decide what to say.
‘Betty!’ Ed said, surprise and embarrassment written on his face. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Looking for you, of course!’
‘You haven’t the right, banging on the door like a debt collector! People will talk and—’
‘How d’you think I’m going to get the pub ready? We’re opening in less than an hour.’
‘I’m just coming, but don’t knock at the front door again, Elsie doesn’t like it.’
‘Elsie doesn’t like it? Pity for her!’ she snapped and turned to walk back down the road to the pub, where already Mr Francis and a couple of others were leaning on the wall, patiently waiting for opening time.
She was relieved when Ed followed a few minutes later but irritated when he avoided speaking to her. ‘It’s you who let me down, so why am I having the dirty looks?’ she demanded.
‘Elsie’s a respectable widow and she doesn’t want people gossiping. You knocking at the door like that, hauling me out like an intruder.’
‘Plenty of people are already gossiping, mainly because of you sneaking in the back way instead of using the front door,’ she hissed in reply. She knew things were more likely to get worse than better and wondered what to do about it. The pub was hers but Ed had helped her ever since she’d been widowed many years before, and she didn’t know how she’d cope if the argument developed into an estrangement. She also knew they couldn’t carry on like this.
*
On Sunday afternoon Sophie was hesitant about visiting the Treweathers’ farm. The situation with Bertie and Sarah was making her uncomfortable. Rachel’s attitude hadn’t helped, either. The thought of seeing Ryan decided her. To confirm her decision, Gareth called for her, and, failing cheerfully in his attempt to convince her he was Ryan, explained that his brother had been delayed.
To her relief there were others in the big living room beside the family. She heard the buzz of lively conversation before she opened the door.
Geoff and Connie were there, with Stella and Colin from the post office, Kitty and Bob Jennings, and a few others unknown to her.
Rachel greeted her and introduced her to the others. ‘Betty Connors from the Ship and Compass, enjoying a little relaxation on her day off,’ was the first.
‘Between cleaning and doing the books and making out the orders,’ Betty added with a smile, ‘and we’re already friends. Are you settling in at Badgers Brook?’
‘I couldn’t be happier,’ Sophie replied. ‘I’ve already made some good friends and I feel that the house welcomes me every time I return.’ She moved closer and whispered, ‘Is this a party?’
The reason for the gathering was the wedding anniversary of Rachel and Tommy. Ryan and Gareth had also invited some friends. A few cards stood on the table near the window and Sophie was relieved that she had brought with her a small gift.
‘I didn’t know this was a special occasion,’ she said, ‘but I brought you this.’ She handed Rachel a jar of crab-apple jelly, ruby red and glowing like a jewel as she held it up to the light. ‘Last year’s, but I’m sure it will be all right,’ she added.
She accepted a drink of cider and sipped it warily; it tasted very strong, not the sweet variety she had expected. Looking around the crowded room she was surprised not to see Owen. Perhaps, being a farm, there was work to be done, and there were few hours during which they could be idle.
‘Will you come and help me carry in another tray of sandwiches?’ Rachel asked, and Sophie thankfully put down the drink with which she had been struggling and followed her into the kitchen.
‘Congratulations, Mrs Treweather,’ Sophie said, picking up a tray and removing the white tea towel covering its contents. ‘Thirty years married and working together is something to celebrate
, isn’t it?’
‘Not everyone is so fortunate,’ Rachel replied, staring at her as though there was more to say. Sophie rested the tray on a corner of the table and waited apprehensively. ‘Owen, for instance.’
‘I’m sorry about Bertie, but I had no idea that he was related to Owen. I didn’t mean to interfere.’
‘I know, but I think it best if you stay away from him, in fact, better you stay clear from all the Treweather family.’
‘But… surely we can remain friends?’
‘All right, I’ll be honest with you. Tommy and I need for the boys to stay here, working the farm, carrying on from us one day. You aren’t farmer’s wife material, and if Ryan marries someone like you he’ll leave. As I told you before, we think that if he marries the right person, someone strong, hard-working and determined, there’s a chance of us getting our wish. Owen married the wrong girl and see where that ended.’
Sophie’s face was rosy with shock and embarrassment. ‘I don’t know why you’re saying this. I’ve seen Ryan about half a dozen times, and I’ve only lived in Cwm Derw since April! Less than three months, and not a hint of anything more than friendliness between us. So don’t be afraid of me, Mrs Treweather. I have no desire to marry anyone and certainly not a farmer. Rearing animals for slaughter is something I’d never cope with. Never.’ She put the tray more firmly on to the table and, without waiting to find her coat, ran from the house.
It was raining, fine, warm summer rain, but she was unaware of it as she ran up the hill towards the wood. Panting with the effort, sobs interfering with her breathing as she ran, she stood and leaned against the smooth trunk of a beech and allowed her breath to return to normal. Then, more slowly, she walked on, across the stream and into the lane. Parked outside the house was a muddy van. Ryan had come to find her.
‘Why did you run off in such a hurry?’ he asked as he got out of the van, carrying her coat and basket.
‘Your mother made it clear that I was unwelcome at a gathering of friends,’ she said, snatching her belongings. ‘Now please excuse me but I have some art work to prepare for school tomorrow.’
Ignoring her words he followed her to the door and into the kitchen. He said nothing, just watching her as she coaxed the fire into life by lifting the coals with a poker then filled the kettle and slammed it on to the gas stove, her every movement an indication of her anger. She pointedly put out one cup and saucer, but he reached up and took down a second.
‘And the cider tasted disgusting!’ she said at last and heard him chuckle.
‘I don’t know what Mam said to you, but you were there as my guest and I’m very sorry if you weren’t made welcome. I couldn’t call for you as I had to collect a couple of ancient aunts and then I was busy topping up drinks. I’m afraid I didn’t give you the attention I should. I forgot many of the guests would be strangers.’
‘I knew a few,’ she admitted. ‘And I was enjoying it once I got talking to a few people, but your mother made it clear I shouldn’t be there. So I left.’
‘Without finishing your cider?’ he teased. The kettle boiled and she filled the teapot. ‘I’m sorry, I really am,’ he said, turning her to face him.
‘All right, it wasn’t your fault. It was a nice idea – arranging the afternoon for your parents, and inviting me, although you might have told me it was a celebration!’
He held up in arms in mock surrender. Then reached out and pulled her gently towards him. Without hesitation she relaxed against him and they didn’t move for a while, each afraid of what might happen next. He sensed the need for caution, knowing he could harm a growing affection if he rushed her, so he eased away, touched the side of her forehead with his lips. Shyness made her say foolishly, ‘I think our tea is getting cold.’
‘Still better than Dad’s cider, eh?’
He didn’t stay long. They were both edgy, aware of each other, knowing that things would never go back to how they had been, and wondering where their growing feelings for each other would take them.
Sophie knew she could never cope with the killings on a farm, no matter how valuable and essential that way of life might be. Ryan was kind and gentle, and she knew there might come a day when she could entrust her future to him with utter confidence, but not now, while he worked on the family farm. But if she became involved, seriously involved, at a time when he was considering leaving the farm and behind him, would he one day regret it? Or even go back, expecting her to go with him?
As on so many previous occasions over the past four years she had the impulse to run away, move on before she became strangled with confusion. She felt an attraction for Ryan as she had for no other man; even her love for Geoffrey had had a desperation about it: there had been a need for comfort and the promise of a future during those awful days. But she had to consider Ryan’s circumstances.
She stood up and walked around the large kitchen. What was she thinking of? They had only ever spent a few hours together, and touching her forehead with his lips wasn’t a kiss, so why was she galloping so far ahead?
Stella and Colin called an hour later, followed by Kitty and Bob. ‘Worried we were,’ Stella told her. ‘One minute you were there pretending to drink that strong cider and the next you were gone.’
‘Thought it had done for you!’ Colin said with a chuckle. ‘Two barrels every year Tommy buys, thrives on the stuff. I don’t mind a drop or two myself, mind.’
The last visitor that day was Betty Connors, but she didn’t stay, seeming satisfied when she saw that Sophie was unharmed. ‘Call and have a cup of tea one afternoon,’ she called as she walked back down the path to the lane. ‘Usually there after lunchtime closing.’
Sophie stacked the dishes from her visitors and went out for a walk. She needed to clear her head, and that was nothing to do with the cider. She had to admit to herself that the thought of marrying Ryan, of spending the rest of her life with him, had been occupying her thoughts all afternoon, but she had to stop herself thinking about him as though they were more than friends. Anything else would lead to disappointment, and she’d had enough of that. ‘Not even casual friends,’ she reminded herself, muttering the words aloud. ‘Strangers we are and nothing more.’
*
Betty went home and planned a quiet hour listening to the wireless. She went in and changed into more comfortable clothes and settled in her favourite chair. Ed would be in later for his supper but there was an hour or so before she need worry. She picked up the Sunday papers and began to read. Sundays were the only days when the place wasn’t open, but she would still be busy with all the things she couldn’t do during the week. Having the invitation to the Treweathers’ tea party had decided her to take the whole day off.
She heard the back door open and guessed it was Ed. He was early. Damn, now she’d have to get up and make him tea. He usually stayed at Elsie Clements’ place till seven.
‘Betty?’ he called, then came in and, with an outstretched arm, gestured for her to remain seated. ‘I have something to tell you,’ he said, and she sat up straight; it sounded serious.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. In fact, everything’s right. The fact is, Elsie and I want to get married, and I’ll be going to live there. She has a few rooms she rents out from time to time and she’ll be glad of my help with the maintenance of the house and all that.’
‘Like I’ve been, you mean?’ Betty said, her voice choked with shock. ‘You’re leaving me to cope and going to help Elsie?’
‘We’re getting married,’ he repeated.
‘Congratulations,’ she said, her voice making the word sound like a reprimand. ‘And when is this to be?’
‘End of the month.’
‘What? And how d’you expect me to find someone else in a couple of weeks? Besides, don’t the banns have to be called three times?’
‘They were called in Elsie’s church last Sunday and again today. I’ll still work here for a few weeks, do the usual hours, I just won’t be
living here, that’s all. Just till you find someone.’ He spoke quickly, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on the fact that he hadn’t told her earlier. But she did!
‘So you could have told me earlier?’
‘Well, yes, but I found it hard to say the words.’
‘Making it harder for me to find someone!’
‘Sorry, Betty, but it’s a chance for a little happiness, and Elsie’s a fine woman. I’m very lucky, you must see that.’
‘Of course, and I am pleased for you. I just wished I’d been told sooner, that’s all. Bring her here tomorrow evening and we can tell everyone and have a bit of a do.’
‘Thanks, Betty.’
She stood up and hugged him. ‘Good luck, Eddie, I’m sure you’re doing the right thing.’
‘Pity she hasn’t got a brother, eh?’
‘Yes, a man with muscles like Popeye and the temperament of a saint.’
She didn’t sleep much that night, aware of her brother in the next bedroom and imagining living in the old, creaky building completely alone. She had to find someone, and quickly. Common sense meant she needed a man to do all the work Ed had been doing and who’d be willing to live in. Not an easy position to fill. She needed to feel safe, and that wouldn’t be possible with a stranger. Her mind sifted through the possibilities and rejected them all.
*
As the weather grew warmer still, visitors passed through the town on their way to the local beaches or quiet countryside. A short while after Ed’s announcement, three young women stopped and parked their vehicles not far from the post office, looking around them for a likely place to eat.
The sight of the café with its crowded tables seemed hopeful, and they went inside but groaned when they saw the queue and how slowly it was moving. One of the women, tall, confident and obviously in charge, loudly demanded of the assistant, ‘Is there a fish and chip shop near?’
‘Gwennie Flint’s, just around the corner,’ she was told, and she and her friends trooped out and followed the direction of the girl’s pointing finger.
A New Beginning Page 9
