Shadows of Conflict

by Jennifer Bohnet

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Mattie said, conscious that Henri was still holding her hand.

  ‘Bon!’ Henri squeezed her hand gently. ‘I shall visit and make sure you do.’

  ‘Oh. You will?’

  ‘Oui – if you don’t mind?’

  Mattie shook her head. ‘I think it’s a wonderful idea. I shall enjoy showing you my country.’

  Katie placed three pink roses she’d cut from the early-flowering bush that Mattie was fond of in a small vase and placed it on the table. A perfect centrepiece for the welcome home supper.

  Moving into the kitchen, she checked that supper was cooking on schedule. Another twenty minutes and it would be ready. Hopefully Leo would have returned by then with Mattie.

  Minutes later, Bert began to whimper before rushing to scratch determinedly at the front door. Katie opened the door and laughed as Bert pushed past her and up the path to greet Mattie and Leo.

  ‘Welcome home. You look wonderful,’ Katie said, hugging Mattie. ‘Love your hair. You’ve obviously had a good time.’

  ‘I did,’ Mattie managed to say before she was almost bowled over by Bert. ‘I guess somebody missed me, then,’ she said, stroking him.

  ‘I’ll take your cases up to your room,’ Leo said.

  ‘Leave the smaller one – there are presents in there. And a bottle of wine to go with our meal,’ Mattie said. ‘Leo tells me you’ve had problems at the shop. I shall have to have words with cousin Ron.’

  Katie sighed. ‘Leo, we agreed not to mention the break-in to Mattie tonight. Besides we don’t know for sure Ron is involved.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Leo shrugged. ‘It just slipped out.’

  ‘Are the Americans still in town?’ Mattie asked.

  ‘Yes. They’ve filmed the shop and are waiting for your go-ahead to use it,’ Katie said.

  ‘Do you think they’d still be interested in talking to me? Not that I remember a great deal,’ Mattie said.

  ‘Noah would be delighted, I’m sure,’ Katie said. ‘Friendly American on board ship, then?’

  ‘No. It was Henri.’

  Katie raised her eyebrows. ‘Henri?’

  ‘A fellow passenger. He’s planning to visit soon so you’ll get to meet him.’

  Katie waited for Mattie to say more. When she didn’t, she said, ‘So tell us about the cruise. Did you make many friends on board? Was the food good? Did you play roulette in the Monte Carlo Casino? Did you like France?’

  ‘Yes. Yes. No. My absolute favourite place was a tiny island off the coast at Cannes that Henri and I visited together.’

  Over dinner Mattie continued to regale Katie and Leo with tales of her holiday and how much she’d enjoyed the cruise. She blushed as she admitted meeting Henri had been the highlight of her holiday.

  ‘Henri told me about his childhood during the war, living in Cannes, which was occupied by the Germans. The war I lived through here was far removed from the one he experienced. His war was much harder and far more traumatic than mine.’ Mattie fiddled with her wine glass.

  ‘Henri made me think about things and I’ve realized what a foolish old woman I’ve become.’

  Katie and Leo waited.

  ‘I promised Henri that I would start to try to put things into perspective. He suggested talking to the Americans would be a good start.’

  Mattie stood up and pushed her chair back. ‘Five minutes. I need to fetch something from my room.’

  ‘Can I help?’ Leo said.

  Mattie shook her head. ‘No. Won’t be a moment.’

  Katie busied herself clearing the table and Leo drank his wine while they waited for Mattie to return downstairs, both wondering what she’d gone to fetch.

  When she returned, she was holding a large envelope and an unframed black and white photo. ‘This is Clara and me taken shortly before the Americans arrived in town.’ Mattie handed the photograph to Katie. ‘For years I couldn’t bear to look at this photo.’

  ‘You can definitely tell you’re sisters,’ Katie said. ‘You look like a younger version of her.’

  Mattie smiled. ‘Clara was my best friend as well as being my big sister, even though she was six years older. I loved her. Idolized her. I hated my parents for driving her away.’

  Carefully, Mattie opened the envelope and gently pulled out a folded piece of paper. ‘Clara wrote to me regularly after she left. This is the last letter she sent to me from Bridgewater, where she was living. In it she says she misses Hal so much she can’t bear the thought of coming back here and having constant reminders of him in places where they’d been so happy together.’

  The tears began to course down Mattie’s cheeks. ‘So, she’d decided to accept a kind friend’s invitation and go abroad to make a new life for herself. She was sorry she couldn’t tell me where she was going and would be unable to see me before she left but she promised she’d write when she was settled and I was to go for a visit when I was old enough.’

  Mattie picked up a faded, fragile newspaper cutting. ‘My letter arrived the day after I was told she’d died. According to this newspaper report, she’d just posted a letter when an out-of-control car ploughed into her and she was killed instantly. But my parents didn’t tell me that at the time. They simply said Clara was dead. They wouldn’t even let me go to the funeral. Said I was too young.’

  Mattie looked at Katie and Leo with grief-stricken eyes. ‘It was years before I found out the truth about her death. Ever since, I’ve blamed myself. If only she hadn’t gone that particular morning to post that letter to me I believe she would still be alive.’

  Katie handed her a tissue before placing a comforting arm around Mattie’s shoulders.

  ‘Oh, Mattie. You mustn’t. There is no way you can blame yourself. It was simply a tragic accident.’

  Wiping the tears away, Mattie sighed. ‘I know it’s totally illogical, but I’ve always blamed the Americans too. That’s why I’ve never wanted anything to do with them. If they’d never been billeted down here, she would have lived. It was loving and losing Hal that really killed Clara.’

  Katie was silent. It was Leo who spoke quietly. ‘Mattie, I think you have to accept all this is in the past and let it go. You have nothing to blame yourself for. It was Clara’s decision to leave home. I know you feel your parents drove her to it,’ he said, holding up his hand as Mattie went to speak, ‘but at the end of the day it was Clara’s decision to leave.’ Gently Leo took Mattie’s hand and stroked it.

  ‘You’re fond of saying the past is the past, leave it alone – but until you let the shadows of Clara’s life go out of yours, you’ll never be truly happy.’

  ‘You sound like Henri,’ Mattie said, smiling through her tears.

  ‘Maybe the two of us are right?’ Leo said as he hugged her. ‘Try it? Let go of what you can’t change.’

  Mattie bit her lip as she nodded. ‘I will try. Starting next week.’ She looked at them tearfully. ‘It’s the anniversary of Clara’s death. Will you both come to the cemetery with me?’

  Two evenings later, Mattie – clutching a bunch of lilies – led Katie and Leo through Longcross Cemetery towards the corner where Clara was buried.

  Katie followed slowly. This was the first time she’d been here since her grandmother had died. Perhaps she should have brought flowers of her own? Now that she was back living down here it would be easy to visit regularly. She vaguely remembered it being somewhere in the middle of the cemetery. She’d ask Mattie later if she knew where Grandma Margaret’s grave was.

  Every grave they passed seemed to bear a familiar local name, families that had played their part in the history of her home town. They were all there: Widdicombes, Mitchelmores, Peakes, Folletts, Teagues. Katie stopped to look at that one.

  ‘Katharine Teague. Aged 30. Died 1920. Taken from us too soon.’ Katie shivered. A distant relative? How had her namesake died?

  Leo noticed her shiver. ‘Don’t like cemeteries?’

  Katie shook her head. ‘No. It’s not t
hat. I quite like the stillness. The feeling of … I’m not sure what actually, but the atmosphere here is peaceful and strangely comforting. It was seeing my name staring back at me from a tombstone.’ She pointed to the inscription. ‘I wonder how she died, what kind of life she led compared to mine.’ Katie sighed. ‘I guess I’ll never know.’

  ‘We’d better catch Mattie up,’ Leo said.

  The plot Mattie finally stopped in front of was unadorned, its grass neatly mowed. A small headstone inscribed with the bald facts ‘Clara Cranford 1926–1945’. No memorial phrase, no ‘Loving daughter’, no ‘Beloved sister’, no ‘RIP’.

  The graves around it were ornate in comparison: marble cherubs and angels, loving words on the gravestones, fresh flowers and potted plants. Loving tributes to much-missed loved ones.

  ‘My parents were never ones to make a big show,’ Mattie said. ‘I think they surpassed themselves with the negativity of Clara’s grave.’

  She was silent for a moment. ‘They told me she’d died but didn’t tell me anything more. They didn’t even tell me when the funeral was and it was nearly a year before I discovered she was buried here.’

  Carefully Mattie placed the lilies at the head of the grave. ‘I spent a lot of time here after that, talking to Clara. Telling her how angry I was with her for leaving me, how I hated our parents. Promising when I was grown up and had some money I’d have the words ‘My Beloved Sister’ added to the headstone. But, shamefully, I never have.’

  Gently Katie touched her arm. ‘The grave is obviously cared for.’

  Mattie nodded. ‘It’s easy to pay for its maintenance and flowers once a year. I haven’t been coming personally for a long time. Which makes me as bad as my parents. I’ve neglected Clara and written her life off as much as they ever did.’ She brushed a tear away.

  ‘I’m sure it’s not too late to have a new inscription done,’ Katie said. ‘If you feel you still want to.’

  Mattie looked at her. ‘You’re right, and I do. If they know nothing else about her, people should know Clara was a loving sister.’

  ‘There’s a stonemason out Totnes way,’ Leo said. ‘Work out what you want to put and I’ll get the stone over to them.’

  FOURTEEN

  ‘You’ve made this look lovely,’ Mattie said, standing in the attic room. ‘I do wish, though, you didn’t feel you have to move out.’

  ‘Mattie, I know I don’t have to,’ Katie said, giving her a hug. ‘But we’re both used to having our own space, our own things around. Besides, having someone living here will be better security – despite what Leo says.’

  Absently, Mattie fingered one of the cushion covers which Katie had made with the William Morris material she’d been delighted to find in the bundle from the auction. ‘You won’t move for a few days yet, will you? I shall miss you when you go.’

  ‘Still waiting for the mattress to arrive,’ Katie said. ‘So you’ve got me for a bit longer yet. Can’t decide whether to have my flat-warming party before or wait until I’m finally in residence. Lara and Dexter are keen to come for that.’

  ‘I look forward to it,’ Mattie said. ‘Right, if you don’t need my help in the shop today, I think I’ll go to Torquay.’

  Later that morning, Katie was in the clubroom – sorting out publicity for Worldwide Knit in Public Day for the club members to distribute – when Noah Jnr and Vicky arrived, hoping to see Mattie.

  ‘Sorry, she’s gone to Torquay for the day,’ Katie said. ‘Can I give her a message?’

  ‘She’s invited us for Sunday tea,’ Vicky said. ‘But something has come up and we both have to go up to Somerset in the morning and then I’m flying back to the States. Bro here won’t get back down here until late on Sunday, so Dad will be coming on his own.’

  ‘Shame. Mattie was looking forward to meeting you – now she’s found her sense-of-humour button regarding you Americans,’ Katie smiled.

  ‘I’m hoping my grandmother will come back with me for a holiday so maybe we can arrange another time. I’m sure they’ll get on,’ Vicky said. ‘I think they’re about the same age.’

  As Katie closed the shop that evening, Leo arrived carrying a large box.

  ‘Mattie said you were working down here every evening this week so I’ve come to give you a hand.’

  ‘There’s no need, honestly. You’ve done so much for me already. Besides, don’t you have things to do? People to see? A farm to run?’

  ‘Not tonight. This evening I’m all yours. I shall, of course, continue to point out the error of you leaving Mattie’s and living above the shop.’

  ‘Nothing to do with you, Leo – where I live. What’s in the parcel?’

  ‘Burglar alarm,’ Leo said. ‘I’ll fit it for you later. Now let’s see what you’ve been doing to the sitting room.’

  Katie sighed and, giving in to the inevitable, followed Leo up the narrow stairs to the attic.

  ‘You’ve done a good job up here,’ Leo said. ‘No curtains yet?’

  ‘Was planning to put the rail up this evening,’ Katie said.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Leo said. Knowing it was useless to argue with him, Katie handed him the drill and watched as he set the ladder up.

  ‘Have you found anything out about the break-in?’ she asked, watching as he expertly drilled holes for the screws.

  ‘Only that there are a few plans floating around to update the town. Nothing to implicate Ron,’ Leo said. ‘Think Mattie wants me to take her over to Blackawton later this week to tackle Ron in person and see what we can learn.’

  ‘What sort of plans?’

  ‘The usual sort. But like I said – nothing to implicate Ron. Incomers wanting to change things. Plus the normal claptrap from the council about making the amenities more user-friendly for the tourists.’

  ‘If Ron is involved, he’s not likely to talk to you though, is he?’ Katie said.

  ‘Knowing that Mattie suspects him may push him into a corner and he’ll stop for fear of the police being involved. We can but hope,’ Leo said. ‘How is she now?’

  ‘I think we owe this Henri a big thank-you. He clearly made quite an impression on her,’ Katie said. ‘I was worried after her breakdown last week but she’s happier since our cemetery visit. It seems to have kick-started her into action.’

  ‘Right, ready for the rail now. Pass it up. What sort of action?’

  ‘She’s busy sorting out stuff her parents left in the attic,’ Katie said. ‘Apparently there are some old family photos taken before the Americans arrived in 1943 and took over the college as their HQ for Operation Overlord. Says she wants to show them to the Empreys.’

  ‘Is that level?’ Leo said, stepping off the ladder to look at the rail.

  Katie nodded. ‘Perfect.’

  Leo dragged the ladder across to the next window.

  ‘Mattie showed me a photo of Clara and your dad yesterday, taken out at the castle with their parents before the war,’ Katie said, fetching the second rail for him. ‘I keep forgetting her parents were your grandparents. Old Ma Cranford was pretty scary to me – was she a nice granny?’

  Leo began making the holes for the second curtain rail.

  ‘I think she was nicer to me and Josh than she ever was to Dad and Mattie. The real tyrant was Great-grandmother Luttrell. She was a Victorian matriarch down to her fingertips!’

  ‘I don’t remember her.’

  ‘No reason you should. She wasn’t your great-gran. Besides, I was only about six when she died so you could only have been four or five.’

  Leo screwed the second rail into position. ‘According to Dad, it’s the Luttrell side that is responsible for the Ron connection.’

  ‘Mattie said there was a rogue Luttrell ancestor that links you and the Blackawton cousins.’

  Leo shrugged. ‘Family history is not really my scene. I’m much more interested in the future – my future,’ he said, glancing at Katie.

  ‘I’m starting to be fascinated by it all,’ Katie said.
<
br />   ‘Right. Curtain rails are ready,’ Leo said. ‘While you hang the curtains, I’m going to fit the burglar alarm downstairs.’

  ‘Leo, it’s not necessary,’ Katie protested.

  ‘It’s non-negotiable. It’s going up,’ Leo said.

  ‘OK,’ Katie said, realizing there was nothing she could do to change Leo’s mind. ‘I’ll come down and make us some coffee once I’ve finished up here.’

  When she got downstairs with the coffee, Leo was outside drilling a hole to pull some wire through.

  ‘Can you get the ladder and pull this through, please?’ he said. ‘Be careful – don’t want you falling off. I remember the last time I asked you to climb a ladder.’

  ‘Leo, I was fifteen,’ Katie said, standing the ladder against the wall and carefully climbing a few rungs to reach the hole where the wire would appear. She’d never admit it to Leo but she didn’t like ladders. Her sense of balance seemed to desert her when she stood on the first rung of one.

  ‘Anyway, that wasn’t a proper ladder. It was an old mooring ladder you’d got from somewhere and fixed to the trunk of a tree-house you’d built in the garden. It wasn’t so much that I fell off – more that the whole thing collapsed under me.’ And scared me for life, she thought.

  ‘Perfectly good ladder. You were just too heavy for it. Can you see the wire yet?’

  Katie bit back a retort about her weight, made a grab for the wire, which was tantalisingly out of reach – and fell off the ladder, ending in a crumbled heap on the floor.

  ‘Tiggy, I knew I shouldn’t have asked you to help,’ Leo said, rushing in. ‘You’re a complete liability where ladders are concerned. Are you all right?’ Tenderly he put his arm around her and lifted her to her feet, holding her while he regarded her anxiously. ‘Where do you hurt? Ankle? Arm? Back? Where?’

  ‘I’m OK,’ Katie said. ‘Bit shaken but don’t think I’ve broken anything.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Leo said, still holding her.

  ‘You can let me go now,’ Katie said. ‘I’m not about to fall over.’