by Ivy Ferrari
She sat on a boulder to keep her feet from the soaking turf. Sheep grazed by her undisturbed, their lambs fat and flourishing beside them.
The Wall ... Her gaze on the hoary pile of stones, cut with such meticulous exactitude by her own countrymen so many centuries ago, she thought again of the plaster model, the toy of her childhood How utterly different and vivid had been the reality. She remembered her words to Adam—‘It was built to separate the Romans from the barbarians,’ and his easy laughter; recalled too his kiss in the rain on that fateful journey back from Thornriggs. ‘That’s how we barbarians kiss—’ Now she ached and longed for just such another kiss, with all conflict gone between them.
For now that other wall, the invisible barrier between them, had fallen. Adam knew the truth, that Bruno was blameless if foolish, that all the fault lay at Helen’s door. Yet she was still wretched. She had dug for truth and found it as unexpected as the remains of the Mithraeum temple unearthed on the dig.
And it could only mean Adam’s humiliation before her. Could any man bear to be proved wrong by a woman? Today, this very morning, it must happen, and her dread rose like a sickness inside her.
The spring sun pearled the mist, the long dawn shadows appeared. She heard a hail from the dig below and saw Chris shading his eyes to look her way. She waved uncertainly. Here was another confrontation she dreaded.
He climbed towards her with a certain deliberation. He met her eyes soberly and without flinching. ‘Hallo, Chris, you’re about early,’ she said
‘I haven’t slept much. I fancy few of us did last night.’ His eyes were pleading. ‘You know everything now, don’t you, Tina?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘I hoped you might understand—as you’re in love yourself.’
She started and crimsoned.
‘Oh yes, I know about it—you and Adam.’ He found a seat on another boulder, folded his arms and stared at the ground In his thick grey sweater and a blue scarf at his neck he looked almost boyish, she thought ‘You see, Tina, being in love makes one sensitive to it in others.’
‘I suppose so.’
He picked up a twig and began prodding at the soft turf. ‘I was so hopefully in the toils myself, I could spot other people’s emotions a mile away ... Tina, it seems pretty feeble to say I’m sorry. But I do mean it. I hated leading you up the garden, but by the time Helen fell for Bruno, I was in so deep and was in such uncertainty and misery—’
He paused. ‘It must be pretty plain to you now that I’m crazy about her, have been since I first set eyes on her. It might be hard for you to understand just what her kind of haunting beauty does to a man. And her faults—heaven knows I’m aware of every one—they don’t even matter beside my feelings for her.’
‘You concealed it very well, Chris. I never imagined—’
‘I had to conceal it, for her sake at first, then for Bruno’s. Bruno was my friend, Tina, and you know how much he meant to me. But I can’t tell you the hell of jealousy I went through when she turned to him.’
‘Didn’t you hate her for it?’
‘Yes and no. Even then I felt I couldn’t give her up. I was possessive and demanding. But Bruno’s death—’
His eyes met hers, bleak and sorrowful. ‘I would never have wanted it that way, God alone knows. But she did turn to me again. I’m not going to belittle what she felt for Bruno. It was everything a rapturous love affair can be. Her feelings for me had never been in the same street, but she’d looked up to me, depended on me. I think she knew from the first that I could manage her whims better than anyone, even Adam. So perhaps it was natural for her to turn to me in her grief ... And then I got the news that my divorce was going through. That’s why I turned up at the house last night, though I didn’t know then Rosie had told everything.’
‘How did Adam take it—last night, I mean?’
‘He was cold and sarcastic, but very controlled. And what’s more he’s given in, Tina. Helen and I are to be married.’
‘Given in?’ It sounded so unlike Adam she could only stare.
Chris got to his feet. ‘You might put it this way. She’s nearly of age, anyway. He probably knew we’d just go ahead then whatever he said. But it was rather more than that. I think he’s realised he can’t go on protecting her for ever. She has to make her own decisions, her own mistakes. She’s not a child any more. He said as much. As if he’d almost washed his hands of her. I think his attitude upset her. After all, she’s been under his thumb for so long—’
‘But she has used him too, Chris.’
‘I know. I’ve told you, I’m not blind to her faults. But I know I can handle them. We’re going to be happy, I’m convinced of that. You haven’t seen Helen when she’s gay and carefree—she’s a different person ... Oh, I know she behaved badly over Rosie, but I don’t honestly think she really considered the hurt she was causing. With Helen it’s the moment that counts. She was in a jam, and took the first impulsive way out. And I honestly think she’s ashamed now.’
Tina looked her doubts. Chris stopped and took her chilled hands in his. ‘We’ve all got faults, Tina. We’re all human and vulnerable. I hope you’ll forgive us both one day.’
‘I expect I shall. It’s just that—it takes time to readjust to everything.’
‘I know.’ He dropped her hands. ‘I hope you and Adam will be happy.’
She stopped him with a stifled sound. ‘Don’t—we haven’t even spoken about it.’
They talked a while longer, Chris eager to explain each deception, each reason for his off-hand behaviour with her. She could well have done with less of it, for his timing was wrong. Details did not matter at this stage, when realisation was so acute and overpowering. At last she stopped him.
‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Chris. I know that, whatever happened, you were still loyal to Bruno, in your own way. And none of it really matters now, does it?’
‘I expect you’re right.’ He stood up. ‘But you know, don’t you, Tina, I hated deceiving you? And if there’s anything I can do to help you—’
She shook her head. He regarded her for a moment longer. ‘It’ll be all right, Tina, you take my word for it. You and Adam. It’s too right not to happen.’ His hand closed over her shoulder for a moment, then he had gone, running down the slope with his long-legged stride.
Tina watched him disappear into the trees, her eyes misty.
She had leaned on him in the past in so many ways, unaware that the man she thought she knew so well had so many secrets from her. How naive she had been! She knew now that love had the power to change all lives beyond recognition.
And now at last Adam’s burden was lifted. Chris seemed confident he had the strength and staying power to shoulder all Helen’s moods. And it was just possible he would succeed. Marriage was probably the one stability Helen needed.
‘You’ll get a chill, sitting there!’ Adam’s voice roused her.
She whipped round to find him standing over her, his broad shoulders huddled in a duffle coat, his face sardonic as ever under the wind-blown thatch of black hair. He had approached her over the moor from the rear, Gyp at his heels. ‘We’re all abroad early this morning. I saw Irwin talking to you.’ Like Chris he eased himself down on to the neighbouring boulder. ‘I imagine he has told you I’ve consented to their marriage.’
‘Yes, he did.’
A silence followed. Tina’s heart beat an uneasy tattoo. ‘But that’s not what I want to talk about,’ he said firmly. His gaze, steady and piercing, had gone past her to settle on the outline of the Wall snaking up into the mist.
‘Now you see it, now you don’t.’ he mused. ‘It’s quite something in this light, isn’t it?’
Was he playing for time, she wondered, hating the moment when he would have to admit all his past mistakes?
She waited, her gaze on his face.
‘I admit I was attracted to Francey, quite fiercely at one time.’ He hesitated, then looked her full in the fa
ce. ‘It was purely physical, you understand. In other words, even while I was attracted, I was under no illusions about her—her vanity, her selfishness, her neglect of those children.’ He smiled grimly. ‘For a time I even persuaded myself that I was a good influence on her, that to please me she was really trying to do better for them. And so she did—for a time.’
‘And then?’
‘Then I began to hear the gossip. I realised that my association with Francey might be wrongly construed. Country people are realists in these things, and in their eyes Francey was no better than she should be. I saw that I was getting in too deeply, that I should either have to leave Francey well alone or else marry her. It was, you might say, a moment of truth and pulled me up pretty sharply. I saw I had done her a wrong by being seen with her at all. And my conscience gave me such a bad time I nearly did decide to marry her.’
Tina held her breath. ‘But you changed your mind?’
‘Yes.’ He eyed her soberly. ‘Two things happened just then. One, I found Francey had been lying to Matt about our relationship, hoping to force a wedding. And two, you suddenly appeared on the scene.’
‘But surely you—’
He laid a finger on her lips. ‘You were going to say that wasn’t the end of Francey? Too true it wasn’t. Remember that at first I felt nothing but resentment towards you, God forgive me for it. I was also trying to shake Francey off without being too brutal about it. The climax came on the night of that supper-party. I don’t know if you picked up any of the undercurrents.’
Tina smiled faintly. ‘I certainly did. But you deliberately asked her, as a guest. Wasn’t that—’
‘Incompatible with trying to shake her off? Not really. I wanted to see you in my house, infinitely more beautiful than she was, and with an ease of manner she could never hope to copy. It was cruel, perhaps, but I think you once said that with me honesty and cruelty were the same thing?’
Tina’s face flamed, but she kept silent.
He smiled again. ‘It just so happened Francey was trying the same game, with Chris Irwin. You probably saw I was still capable of jealousy, still not quite cured. But Francey had got the message. And when I did tell her, a day or two later, that I wouldn’t be seeing her again, she stormed at me about you like a wildcat. I denied nothing, admitted nothing.’
‘So that’s why she hated me,’ Tina said quietly.
‘Sorry, but that’s why. Knowing young Francey, she would have resented you anyway.’
‘And I thought—I actually suspected that she might be the girl with Bruno.’
He shrugged. ‘Being Francey, she no doubt cast her eyes on him. She could never resist flirting. But you can take it from me Bruno wasn’t playing ... The rest doesn’t take long to tell. Francey retaliated in her own way, by falling back into her old neglect of the house and the twins. But you already know all that.’
His tone changed. ‘That’s enough about Francey. I just wanted you to get the record straight. It didn’t take me long to change my mind about you, either. Oh, the resentment was still there, but I began to see a girl brave enough and determined enough to stay on in an inhospitable household to clear her brother’s name. I was impressed, believe me.’
‘Not inhospitable—never that! Hadrian’s Edge—it’s become like home.’
He turned her face gently towards him. ‘You really mean that, don’t you?’ She saw a deep happiness in his eyes. ‘Despite my unforgivable behaviour.’
‘Don’t talk of forgiving, Adam. I can’t bear it. And—well, I said a lot of hard things too. I’m sorry.’
‘You had a right to say hard things. I deserved every one of them.’ She felt his hands on her shoulders. He raised her gently to stand facing him. Tina, you know, don’t you, that I love you.’
She closed her eyes, unable to meet the brilliance of his gaze.
‘Yes, I know now.’ she said faintly.
‘Then look at me.’
She obeyed, trembling. ‘I love you—I’ve loved you for ages, but I’ve been fighting it—’
‘You won’t have to fight it any more.’ His arms tightened about her, his urgent kisses were rough and possessive.
‘No Wall now?’ he whispered.
‘No Wall ... Oh, Adam!’ She clung to him again.
It was a long while before he released her, to a dazed realisation of a climbing sun, of an impatient Gyp barking at their heels. Hand in hand they walked down the dewy slope, still in an almost stupefied silence. There was so much more to say, so much to explain. Like all lovers before them, they would trace every step of their tempestuous relationship, every misunderstanding, every stolen happiness. But these first moments of shared emotion needed no sound but the thrushes belling in the woods and the cries of the sheep on the moor...
Three weddings followed in quick succession at Hadrian’s Edge.
First of all came Chris’s and Helen’s, a modest affair at Hexham register office, as they were to fly to Rome immediately afterwards. Chris had finished his work at the dig and was handing over to a local archaeologist who would supervise the last of the excavation. The Mithraeum temple had attracted world-wide interest, ensuring that Bruno’s name would be remembered for ever in archaeological circles. Now Chris and Helen were to live at his Rome apartment, while he went back to lecturing.
Helen looked radiant, with a new peace in her eyes, Chris so gently attentive Tina began to believe at last that this marriage was inevitable and perhaps in the end, good. Adam attended throughout in imperturbable calm, but little enthusiasm. Perhaps, Tina thought, he was conscious of failure, a little resentful that another man should succeed with the baffling Helen where he had used too heavy a hand for too many years.
The second was Carrie’s and Sandy’s, having proved less patient than Carrie predicted. It took place in the village chapel, decorated with more vigour than elegance by Isa, who was a great believer in the pictorial value of masses of bluebells crammed into glass jars. Carrie, acting on Tina’s advice, wore a cream lace suit and a cartwheel hat of pale turquoise, which she insisted on ripping off as soon as the reception party began at Hadrian’s Edge. There was a slight hitch over the cutting of the cake, as the bride had to be almost forcibly removed from an impassioned argument with a local farmer about the exact line of the Vallum as it crossed his land. But Sandy had his revenge with a spirited rendering of ‘Cushie Butterfield’ on his pipes, which made Carrie publicly complain and privately glow. ‘I suppose I’ll have to get used to them,’ she confessed to Tina. ‘Anyway, we’ve made a bargain. I’m going to all his barn dances and he’s promised I can start on the Roman bake-oven the minute the honeymoon’s over!’
Sandy whispered to Tina: ‘This was a day worth waiting for, pet! Aye, and thanks to you for most of it. I wish there was something I could do in return.’
‘There is.’ Tina dimpled. ‘You can promise to play the pipes at my wedding, too.’
This third wedding took place in the village church, and to Tina’s intense joy her father was able to pay a flying visit to attend the ceremony. It was quiet but traditional, Tina in a drift of white chiffon and with an ecstatic Rosie as bridesmaid, now recovered from her operation and pretty as a fairy in pale clover pink. Even Daring Denise, Rosie boasted, had never yet been a bridesmaid!
The wedding itself Tina ever afterwards remembered as a strange confusion of joy; the sound of Adam’s responses, made with a ringing confidence, her father’s face showing a new serenity, the church crowded with friends and well-wishers, and last but not least Adam’s possessive kiss in the vestry, when she had signed her maiden name for the last time.
The reception was again at Hadrian’s Edge, where Isa stunned all comers in an outfit of saxe-blue satin, its cape-collar studded with crystal beads. Perhaps stimulated by the champagne, for Isa allowed herself a glass of wine at a wedding, she triumphantly produced text after text suited to the occasion. She did however confess to Carrie that she might find the trifles on the heavy side, as she had be
en upset by one of the caterer’s men the day before, whom she had caught playing ‘Blaydon Races’ on her precious harmonium.
Matt was there, looking strange and awkward in a formal suit, but there was nothing awkward about his sincere wishes for Tina’s happiness.
‘It’ll be your turn one day, Matt.’ she said softly. ‘And don’t forget I’m going to keep an eye on Rosie for you. No reason at all why you shouldn’t have a girl now.’
‘I think I’ll stick to pigeons for a while,’ he smiled, but Tina noticed that he spent most of the reception shyly eyeing one of the village girls who had come in to help. She looked strong, pretty and sensible and Tina wished him joy with all her heart. Her father took her aside at one point ‘You’ve chosen well, darling. And Bruno, he would have approved too. Adam will never let you down, I’m sure of that.’
‘I’m sure too,’ she whispered, clutching his hand.
The high spot of the reception was undoubtedly Sandy’s surprise rendering of ‘Arrivederci, Roma’ on the Northumbrian pipes, where sincerity and feeling perhaps topped performance. Adam at this point had almost disgraced himself by laughing, and Carrie had confessed to Tina that Sandy had been practising that particular number for weeks. ‘It did literally drive me up the Wall,’ she complained. ‘I had to go up there to escape from it.’
At last Adam and Tina left in a shower of confetti and a new car, but once on the Military Road, Tina exclaimed: ‘Adam, where are you going? We’re driving the wrong way.’
‘I know. I want to show you something.’
By the rough sloping field which had once been the bustling Roman fort of Carrowbrough he stopped the car, and led her across the grass.
The ground was dry on this occasion, the rough sloping pasture gilded by June sunshine, the sheared sheep dazzling in their whiteness. Before them, the Tyne Valley bloomed in all the tints of summer, the far sapphire line of Cross Fell was clear against an azure sky. And here, at Coventina’s Well—
