‘You hassling me don’t ’elp.’ She touched her head dramatically. ‘I think it’s gone for good.’
He gave her the packet of envelopes and the pad. ‘Keep the rest in case you need them sometime. But please, write down the name for me, will you? Just the name.’ On impulse he handed her the small fountain pen from his pocket. ‘Take this too.’ She was his only hope.
‘Call again when you’re passing, in case I lose the envelope,’ she said, closing the door, damping his spirits even further.
He stopped one last time at the old shop. Looking through the window with a hand above his eyes to help him peer through the dusty glass he saw a notice that made him start with wild hope. Hand-written on a piece of cardboard, he read, ‘Home Made Pickles and Preserves’.
*
The school term had begun and Sophie had agreed to look after Bertie after school until Sarah finished work at the dress shop. With the approach of autumn, Sophie was busy making the chutneys and pickles that would be in extra demand over the Christmas season. She was helped by a surprising number of people, who offered her their sugar allowance on the promise of a jar of their favourite preserve, or in exchange for her unwanted rations. She no longer went into Macs Hir market with her baskets, as Hope and Peter Bevan sold everything she managed to make. There was less profit, but it was much easier. Peter was able to charge more than she had done when she sold from her wicker baskets, and with the material cover added by Hope they looked as good as they tasted.
She usually walked Bertie back at half past five to the sad little room where he and Sarah lived and would wait for Sarah to arrive. Once she saw Sarah approaching she didn’t stay unless there was news from school to impart. She would wave and walk straight back to Badgers Brook. But on one occasion in early September, Sarah called to her and invited her inside.
The room was still very overcrowded but there was an air of orderliness that hadn’t been apparent before. The clutter had been greatly reduced and their possessions arranged in neat areas: books and toys on the window sill, food arranged under fly-proof nets. She showed Sophie that the few pans she possessed were hidden from sight in the oven of the old-fashioned cooker. Clothes were stacked in an attractive wooden box decorated with a woodland scene of trees and bluebells, which she was told had been painted by Hope Bevan.
Tea and biscuits were produced, Bertie helping to set out the small table near the fireplace, which boasted a rather large gas fire.
‘Thanks to you,’ Sarah began self-consciously, ‘Bertie and I are hoping to move into something better before Christmas. I’m cleaning each morning and working in the shop in the afternoons, and my savings are already beginning to grow. Without your help we’d never have been able to move from here. Thank you.’
Embarrassed, Sophie hushed her and smiled. ‘I’m not doing anything I don’t enjoy,’ she said. ‘Bertie is my friend and we have a lovely time while he waits for you to come home to him, don’t we, Bertie?’
‘Yes, miss, and I help on the garden, don’t I?’
‘D’you know,’ Sophie said conspiratorially to Sarah, ‘your son is becoming quite knowledgeable in the garden. Bob Jennings says he’s a natural.’
As Sophie was leaving, Sarah asked, ‘Will you come with me when I look at places to rent? I know I sound feeble, but having lived here for so long I’m half afraid to try somewhere new in case I make a wrong decision.’
Again the fear of advising someone made Sophie hesitate. Finally she said, ‘Of course I’ll come, so you can use me as a sounding-board, but I’m sure you won’t need any advice about where you and Bertie live. You’ll know the moment you step in, like I did with Badgers Brook.’
‘Oh, it wouldn’t be as grand as that!’ Sarah replied. ‘A self-contained flat would be perfect,’ she said dreamily. ‘One day, perhaps, but for now just a couple of rooms and if we’re lucky a bit of garden for Bertie to grow things. He’s keen to show me what he can do with a patch of earth and a few seeds,’ she added proudly.
*
Daphne was waiting for Sophie when she reached home, sitting on the step looking disconsolately at a pile of weeds she had pulled from the front border.
‘I can’t afford to pay you for gardening,’ Sophie teased. ‘People work in Badgers Brook for nothing, just for the pleasure of being here.’
‘You’re late. Is everything all right?’
‘Fine. Sarah invited me to stay for a cup of tea. Seems she and Bertie will be looking for a better place to live soon. With two jobs and the determination to stop frittering her wages away she can afford to move. Good news, isn’t it? I hope it’s somewhere closer to the rest of us.’
‘Good on ‘em.’ Daphne sighed.
Becoming aware of her friend’s melancholy, Sophie asked what was wrong. ‘Aren’t you happy working with Betty at the pub?’
‘Oh yes, I love it and Betty’s so kind. But I’m so hurt at the abrupt way Owen dismissed me from Treweather Farm. I thought… We seemed to be getting on so well… I hoped…’ She turned to stare at Sophie, her eyes sad, her voice low. ‘I was beginning to think we had a future, Owen and I. The farm was a place I wanted to be, I was even happier there than at the Ship and Compass with Betty. And with Harry leaving, Ryan and Gareth refusing to accept farming as their future and Tommy and Rachel no longer as fit as they were, I thought we’d be running it. He seemed to be hinting at that, discussing plans, gradually building up a picture of the two of us, side by side, him dealing with the farm and me running the house for them. But I must have been wrong.’
‘He’s still married to Sarah, remember, even though they’ve lived apart since before Bertie was born.’
‘That’s another thing. He went to the solicitor and started divorce proceedings. Why do that after all this time if he wasn’t considering looking forward to a new beginning?’
‘Perhaps he’s afraid of risking another relationship. He was dreadfully hurt by Sarah and every time he sees young Bertie it’s a cruel reminder of how his marriage ended.’
‘I think it’s something more than that. He was over Sarah and I’d helped him to accept what had happened and he was thinking of a future with me, I know he was.’
‘Doubts can be revived long after everything seems settled. Who knows what goes on under the surface of someone’s mind? Words and expressions can conceal as well as display how someone feels. Look at Ryan and Gareth: their parents believed they were content, looking into a secure future, with no doubts about it being the correct one for them, while all the time they were both hating it and planning to leave.’
‘I can’t help wondering whether the change of heart was due to something I said. It was that sudden. One day he was talking about our future, then he told me I had to leave, that I was no longer needed.’
‘D’you remember what you were discussing?’
‘I mentioned seeing the surveyors walking around the house, yards, sheds and fields. Wondering why they needed such a thorough assessment and valuation simply to build a barn and resurface a road. He questioned me rather sharply about what I’d seen and heard. I mentioned looking at the maps and plans spread out on the kitchen table, and I told him I’d spoken to the surveyor’s assistant. He didn’t say much at first, just asked why I’d been there when he’d told me I wouldn’t be needed that day.’
‘And why were you there?’
‘Oh, you know how it is, Sophie, when you’re starting to feel an attraction for someone, you look for excuses to see them. I went to check the cupboards and make a shopping list, intending to buy a few necessities ready for when Rachel got back. Nothing really urgent, and I had to admit that when he asked. I thought he’d be pleased or at least thank me for helping, but he just told me to go, that I wasn’t needed any longer.’
‘It could still be his lack of confidence making him afraid of needing you too much. With a failed marriage behind him and the fact that he hasn’t tried again since. Ten years is a long time.’
‘Should we write
to Ryan?’
‘And tell him what? That your romance has failed to blossom?’ She put out a hand to touch Daphne’s arm. ‘I don’t mean to sound harsh. I’m really sorry you’re upset, but I don’t think Owen—’ She was about to say that Owen wasn’t the one for Daphne, but she stopped. How dare she say such a thing? She glanced at Daphne, who was staring at her, waiting for her to finish the sentence. ‘I don’t think Owen will let you go if he really loves you. Give it time. Let’s do nothing and see what happens.’
‘But how did I upset him?’
‘Perhaps someone else did. He’ll explain when things are settled.’
‘He sacked Harry Sutton very unexpectedly, too, didn’t he?’ Daphne added doubtfully.
‘I admit that was odd. Harry seems to be a good man. He often worked more than the hours he was paid for, yet Owen made a case for sacking him.’
‘What if he’s up to something? Shouldn’t we at least mention it to Ryan or Gareth or Tommy? Let them decide?’
‘Ryan and Gareth are both expected home at the weekend. Perhaps we can bring the conversation around to what’s happening then.’
*
Gareth travelled from France on the boat train and arrived tired and weary having hitched lifts from Dover with Brian Powell. Gareth showed Brian into the spare room and went to his own, and they both collapsed into a deep sleep still fully clothed.
When Rachel and Tommy arrived they looked in at the two men and left them to sleep off their exhaustion. Rachel found Owen and immediately asked when Daphne would be calling.
‘She won’t be,’ Owen said. ‘She’s been discussing our business at the pub and I suspect it was from her that the rumours about our selling up began. I told her to leave.’
‘We’ll have a family meeting this evening.’ Tommy said. ‘Ryan will be here by then and Gareth will surely have woken.’ He looked hard at Owen. ’You’d better sit in on it too.’
‘Thank you, Uncle Tommy.’ Owen tried not to sound sarcastic. Why shouldn’t he be involved? He did most of the work. But it was more important than ego now. He needed to be fully aware of their intentions so he could match his arrangements to theirs. Things were moving fast.
*
Ryan walked along the lane towards Badgers Brook carrying a small suitcase. His father’s letter asking him to come home that weekend was inconvenient but he’d had to obey. He didn’t want to be absent when the running of the farm was being discussed; there had been too many changes recently that he hadn’t been involved in. He and Gareth had written to each other and neither of them was easy about what was happening in their absence. Owen appeared to be taking control and encouraging their father to leave more and more of the decision-making to him.
Sophie was out. The house was silent with that peaceable silence that many old properties have, and he was tempted to sit in the garden and wait. Better not. Gareth would be home and he needed to talk to him before the family meeting began. Picking up his case he wandered through the wood until he was looking down on the roofs of his home. Gulls gathered on one of the fields, shrieking at each other, arguing over what they found. It was a beautiful place and one he hated to leave, but he couldn’t take it on as his father had done. And that decision was partly influenced by his feelings for Sophie, for whom the life of a farmer was inconceivable. The desire to see Sophie was strong and, leaving his case near the top of the field, he went back to Badgers Brook. Still no sign of her, so he walked along the lane to the main road and the Ship and Compass. If she wasn’t with Daphne, her friend might know where she was to be found.
Betty opened the side door and invited him in. ‘Sophie’s here if that’s who you’re looking for,’ she said. ‘She and Daphne are trying to re-cover an armchair to give to Sarah, although from the giggles and shrieks I don’t think they’re making much progress.’
‘It’s all right, Betty,’ Daphne said. ‘We’re off to ask Hope Bevan to finish it for us. We know when we’re beaten.’
Sophie appeared behind her and stepped forward to greet Ryan. He took her hand. ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ he said.
‘Well I’m off so Hope can do this before Sarah sees what a mess we’ve made of it,’ Daphne said, edging past them.
‘Don’t go yet,’ Ryan said. ‘I wonder if you can tell me how things are at the farm?’
Sophie and Daphne shared a glance. Betty went to make the inevitable tea.
‘Sophie and I don’t go up there any more.’
‘We’ve been told to stay away by Owen,’ Sophie told him.
Ryan tightened his grip on her hand and looked questioningly at Daphne.
‘It isn’t for us to say, but we think there’s something going on that you haven’t been told about.’
They explained about the dismissal of both Harry Sutton and Daphne. The survey was mentioned and at once Ryan said, ‘At least that’s above board, we’re having a new barn built and the architects need to know the best site, and the ground would be tested for drainage and things like that.’
‘What I saw was a thorough survey of the farm, including the buildings and all the fields,’ Daphne said. ‘Even the woodland. I don’t pretend to understand exactly what would be needed, but for one small barn there was an awful lot of investigation.’
Ryan was thoughtful as he drank the tea Betty had made, but said nothing more. He needed to talk to his brother.
He walked back with the two young women and, after collecting his case, went down the field to the farm.
Ryan was met at the door by a bleary-eyed brother and a man he didn’t know. Both had wet hair and were dressed in scruffy trousers and shirts.
‘Heavens, Gareth! Did you swim from France?’
They stepped towards each other, slapping shoulders affectionately, then Gareth turned and said, ‘Brian, meet my brother.’
‘God ’elp,’ Brian gasped. ‘If you hadn’t just washed your hair I’d be lost to know which of you is Gareth!’
The twins sometimes forgot how alike they were, and meeting new people for the first time was often amusing, but today Ryan was too worried to enjoy the joke.
‘Excuse us, Brian, but I need to speak to Gareth urgently.'
‘Your mother is cooking us something, so don’t be long, I’m too hungry to wait for you and you could be too late and find all the pots empty,’ Brian warned, still looking from one to the other in amazement.
Briefly, Ryan told Gareth what he had heard from Sophie and Daphne.
‘We need to discuss this without Owen being there,’ Gareth said. ‘I have to eat, so will you tell Dad he has to change his mind about allowing Owen to sit in? We can talk about the problems as we eat.’
‘Supper will be late,’ Rachel told Owen. ‘Why don’t you go for a pint and get back for ten o’clock?’
‘Is this a polite way of telling me I’m not invited to the meeting after all?’
‘Of course not,’ Tommy said. ‘We’ll have the meeting in the morning, after milking. Gareth is still half asleep anyway.’
When Owen had left for the Ship and Compass, Tommy opened an accounts book and placed a notebook on the table.
‘Before we start on anything else,’ Gareth said, ‘I want you all to know that Brian and I have decided to buy a farm in France. We’ve already started proceedings and whatever the outcome is of these discussions, nothing will change that. We hope you can all come and see what needs doing – your help will be invaluable, there’s a lot to be done.’ He took a deep breath, having gabbled the announcement. Then he smiled at his parents, trying to hide the tension he had been feeling since he arrived.
‘Now, where should we begin?’ he asked. ‘With you, Ryan?’
‘France? What are you talking about?’ White faced, Tommy clutched Rachel’s arm and stared at his son. ‘This farm is yours and Ryan’s. Your life is here. Why won’t you accept that?’
‘Leave it, Dad, there’s something we need to discuss first,’ Ryan said. ‘There was a thorough survey of the fa
rm done while we were all absent. You and Mam had been sent on one of Owen’s little holidays, I was away and Gareth was in France. So what was it for and why weren’t we informed about what was going on?’
‘No mystery,’ Tommy said, still looking at Gareth. ‘We are having a new barn. It was your idea, Gareth. You said the old ones all need replacing.’
‘Daphne saw the maps and sketches spread across the table and the survey covered every yard of the land we own. Wh would Owen have that work done for a new Dutch barn?’
‘She wouldn’t understand what she saw.’
‘When Owen knew what she had seen and overheard, he told her to go, that she was no longer needed.’
‘Coincidence.’
Ryan looked at his father. ‘Sure about that, are you?’
‘Of course. Stop trying to make a drama about every little thing!’
‘But you won’t mind me talking to someone at the surveyor’s office, just to find out for sure?’
‘I’ll do that,’ Tommy said. ‘Now, Gareth, what’s this nonsense about France?’
‘Brian and his wife and I want to buy this place in Northern France, and we need money, so I want you to release a part of my share of this place. We’ll have to sell it anyway, now both Ryan and I want to do other things. Better sooner than later, so you and Mam can enjoy your retirement.’ He looked at Ryan. ‘Do you have any objections to selling?’
‘None, but I don’t think Mam and Dad are ready to leave, just yet.’
‘Can I have a loan – part payment of what I’ll get when we do sell? The place we want is run down and needs a lot of capital before it will support Brian’s family and mine – when I eventually marry.’
The discussions rumbled on until almost ten o’clock and outside Owen listened, growing chilled but unable to move until the meeting had broken up. He didn’t want to miss a word.
A New Beginning Page 20
