Jane Forxworthy

by Paul Kelly

  ““But, I’m only trying to be friendly. I think this is the least I can do,” she said, feeling very frustrated and annoyed but hoping it didn’t show. She knew this man would revel in her apparent humility and submission to his rudeness but she didn’t want to give him any weapon to use against her. He raised an eyebrow and sneered.

  “Appreciated, I’m shoor . . but I dinna need ony freens, thank you.”

  He disappeared from her sight and banged the door behind him as he went into the house. leaving her to shrug her shoulders and stare down at her squelching shoes.

  “Well, so much for my interfering ways again, “ she groaned and tried to find a path that would lead her to the end of the road and take her home again, without plodding knee deep in mud and cow’s dung, but she hadn’t gone far when she heard the barn door creak . . and then it opened slowly. She was sure there was someone there . . She knew she was being watched, but she could see no-one. Suddenly there was a sound like the rustle of hay and a dull thud like the falling of a spade or fork as it hit the ground and the barn door slowly opened wider

  Danny stood there . . Yes, it was indeed the girl she had nearly knocked down in the lane . . the girl who had been repeatedly avoiding her in the village. Her steady eyes looked at Evie as she stood statuesque in her rags. Evie wanted to smile at the majesty and the poise of her unexpected visitor, but she refrained.

  “Hello there. How are you?” The girl did not speak, but remained still with steady, unflinching eyes. . . and Evie could detect a certain fear and apprehension in her long, steady stare. “I’ve seen you several times in the village, but you always run away. Why have you been avoiding me?” The atmosphere remained tense . . and only the chirp of a little bird in a nearby tree, broke the silence as Evie crept forward a little so that she was about four feet from the girl. “I won’t hurt you . . I promise,” she said and crossed her heart, as a smile crept over her face, but Daniella whats-her-name just looked at her with her large, doleful eyes and Evie looked away. She too was becoming embarrassed, but a thought quickly struck her and she turned to face the child and held out her hand. Danny shrunk back immediately.

  “My name is Evie” she said, using the sign language that she would have used for her brother Jeremy and Danny’s eyes flashed in recognition of the conversation. “What is your name?” Evie asked in the same muted way with her fingers. “What . . . is . . . your . . . name?”

  she repeated slowly and the little girl’s eyes dropped to her own grubby hands as she answered with her fingers.

  “I am Danny.”

  At that moment the door of the cottage was thrown open and the tall, bearded man appeared again. He ran down the porch steps and out towards the barn, where he grabbed the little girl by the arm.

  “Get inside,” he barked, “And yoo . .” he pointed a shaking finger at Evie. “GET OFF MY LAND . .”

  Evie stared at him in defiance, but she knew there was little she could do at that moment. She turned slowly, but before she began to leave, she glanced again at the child, who stood in fear at the man’s side in the porch. Evie looked long and hard at her and the little girl’s face broke into a shy smile and her eyes blinked an acknowledgement of the kindness that Evie had tried to give her. Their eyes met and Evie knew that one of her battles was over. It had been won and she waved to Danny and walked away quietly, but at the bottom of the road, she turned around again and put her hand in the air with an apparent gesture of farewell, but in effect, her fingers spelt out the words, ‘I’ll be back soon’ . . . . but there was no-one there to reply.

  Strangely, her feet didn’t feel so wet any more as she walked home by the road she should have taken in the first place and she hummed a little song happily as she went, composing her own words . . . the words she felt in her heart . . and she began to sing.

  ‘For you take the high road and I’ll take the low road,

  But I’ll be back soon tae see ye . .’

  Chapter Eight

  EVIE WATCHED THE SMOKE RISING SLOWLY and defiantly on her horizon, every day of the week following her visit to Angus McPherson’s cottage. She wondered constantly about Danny as she kept thinking of a plan whereby she could see her again. The young girl had not been in the village when Evie did her shopping and she hoped that her gaunt and bearded grandfather had not punished her in any way, for having spoken to a stranger, but at that moment, the telephone rang and disturbed her thoughts. It was Wills on the line.

  “Hello Darling. . Look! I’ll have to pop home for a little while this morning. I’m expected in Dundee by 4.0pm and I’ll be away for a few days so I’ll need some clothes. Can you pack me a few things? You’ll know what I’ll need.”

  Evie shooed a wasp that had been buzzing round her head.

  “Yes, of course Sweetheart, but I’ll miss you. Are you driving there?”

  “No, actually one of the chaps here is taking me in his car. (His voice went very quiet suddenly) He’s one of the really good ones here who sees eyes to eye with me in what I’m trying to do,” he whispered and the wasp buzzed louder as Wills resumed his normal tone. “Could Mark and I have a spot of lunch before we go . . if I bring him home with me?”

  “Of course Darling. What would you like?”

  “Oh! Anything you’ve got. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Turkey steaks, cannelloni, lasange, egg an’ chips?”

  She heard him talking to someone near him.

  “Cannelloni will be fine, Darling,” he said and the wasp flew out of the window.

  “And your friend . . Mark is it? What would he like?”

  There was another silence as mumbling went on at the other end of the line.

  “Yes Darling, Mark says cannelloni will be fine, but he doesn’t want you to go to a lot of trouble on his behalf. Anything will do.”

  “No trouble Darling. When can I expect you?”

  Wills looked at his wrist watch.

  “Be home about eleven twenty . . O.K” he said and Evie glanced at her own watch to see that it was five past ten.

  “O.K. Darling. That’s fine.”

  Wills was about to put the phone down when he realized that Evie was still speaking to him.

  “What was that you said, Sweetie?”

  “Just that I love you, you gorgeous hunk,” she snarled affectionately, “Look forward to seeing you.”

  “Same here, but then you know that, don’t you?”

  “Course I do, but I like to hear you say it. SAY IT . .”

  “Say what?” he teased.

  “You know the magic words,” she answered and he whispered down the phone. “I love you.” . . .

  “Well, that’s alright then,” she said.

  ***

  The dark blue, sleek saloon car drove up in front of ‘Brigadoon’ at quarter past eleven precisely and Wills and his manager-friend came running up the steps as Evie opened the front door.

  “You’re right on time, Sweetheart,” she said and kissed him.

  “This is Mark McLean Darling . . Mark, my wife Evie . . Evie meet Mark.”

  “How do you do?”

  Evie liked Mark straight away as soon as she shook his hand. She liked a good firm handshake and not one of those wet lettuce jobs. . . They made her flesh creep and filled her with distrust.

  “I hope you like Italian food Mark, but I won’t be offended if you don’t. Wills thinks everybody likes what he likes . . don’t you Dear?” . . .she said but before her husband could say anything, Evie went on complimenting and thanking Mark for his sympathetic and unsolicited views on Wills promotion from London and Mark assured her that he was one hundred per cent behind Wills in everything he was striving to do.

  “What your husband is doing should have been done a long time ago, Mrs. Slade, but it’s the usual story, I’m ‘ afraid. We’ve
got slack and complacent in our ways, even though we should realize that we’ll suffer for it in the long run . . and of course, there are a few who don’t exactly care . . since retirement is due soon and the results of their negligence will only be shouldered by others. I have hoped that something like what Wills is doing now, could have been done a long time ago, but I am only a junior manager and my word doesn’t count for much, I’m afraid.”

  Evie admired Mark’s very clear vision of what he thought should be done and proud that her husband should have been elected to do the job. She liked Mark Mc Lean. She knew that Wills liked him too and she was glad that he had an ally, especially as he had been feeling so low and so dejected lately.

  “Are you married Mark?” Evie asked forthrightly and Wills gave her one of his special looks, as if to warn her not to tread on anyone’s toes.

  “Don’t be so nosy, Evie . .” he scowled. “I’m sorry Mark. My charming wife is sometimes too nosy for her own good.”

  “Not at all Wills. Why shouldn’t she ask? I don’t mind.” Mark said as he turned to Evie and looked steadily into her eyes. “I was married Evie. . . I may call you Evie, may I? but we are waiting for a divorce. My wife and I . . well we just can’t agree.”

  Evie looked concerned. “Oh! Please call me Evie. Everyone does. I am sorry Mark,” she said sympathetically but before she could say another word or ask any more personal questions, Wills gave her the answers.

  “Mark has no children and their dog is being cared for by his mother,” he said, “Now please Evie, we must get on. We don’t have that much time to spare.

  Mark laughed. “I don’t mind Evie asking Wills. It’s old hat now anyway,” he said as Evie sipped her drink.

  “Oh! I’m sorry . . I should have offered you one,” she said and rushed to the drinks cabinet, “I just got one before you arrived home.”

  “My wife is also a secret drinker, Mark . . as you can see.” Wills said and Mark threw back his head and laughed again as he waved his hand.

  “No thanks Evie. I’m driving since Wills has a lot of notes to prepare .. .”

  Evie hovered about in the kitchen whilst Wills and Mark compared notes and stuffed the papers into a brief case.

  “Lunch is ready now. Would you like to pour the wine Darling . .Oh! I’m sorry. I don’t suppose either of you are drinking . . Are you?” She hoped for a little encouragement, but both men shook their heads slowly and sat down at the table.

  “Would you think of getting married again?” Evie asked as she ladled the cannelloni onto the plates and invited her men to help themselves to whatever they saw on the table. Wills tightened his lips and frowned . . .”Evie,” he said softly, but there was emphasis in his tone and concern in the way he looked at her, but Mark dismissed the situation with a smile.

  “I think you two are wonderful. Maybe if I could find someone like you Evie . . I might think about it.”

  Evie giggled and looked at Wills before she stared at her empty glass and twiddled it by the stem between her fingers.

  “I don’t have a twin sister Mark, I’m afraid, but thanks for the compliment,” she said softly and Mark quickly changed the subject as he looked around the room.

  “Lovely home you have here. Wills tells me that the contract is only for one year. Will you be sorry to go back to London?” Evie and Wills answered simultaneously. He said ‘No’ emphatically and she said ‘Yes’ and the trio giggled. “You’ve made it so comfortable. Did you have to bring all your own furniture with you?”

  “Oh! No Mark. Most of it was here when we arrived. We only brought a few personal things with us. Our home is not actually in London. It’s in Surrey . . on the borders of London. It’s Richmond and it’s being looked after by the Company . . Well, so we have been assured. All our furniture is down there. Nice place Richmond. Have you ever been there, Mark?”

  “No . . Never been out of Scotland, except for a holiday when I was a lad in France.”

  he said and nosy Evie intercepted the conversation again with one of her questions.

  “Do you speak French, Mark” she asked and Wills gave her another of his knowing looks and she quickly changed the subject. “Miss Foxworthy helped us a lot when we came here,” she said “She had the house all ready for us . . Do you know Miss Foxworthy, Mark?”

  Mark shook his head from side to side in amusement and laughed again.

  “Everybody knows Jane Foxworthy . . but absolutely everybody . .She’s a philosopher in her own special right, you know,” he said as he picked at his cannelloni, seeming to have no appetite for Evie’s luncheon.

  “Wasn’t she a speech therapist before she started that shop in the village?”

  Wills felt sure that Evie’s curiosity was leading somewhere, but he couldn’t be sure where . . . and Mark dabbed his lips with his serviette, to hide his smile.

  “Well, she isn’t trained as such, although she speaks very politely. She’s quite a character, especially when she’s had a ‘jar’ or two.”

  Evie put her fork down gently on her plate and looked at Wills.

  “Does she like a drink then?” she asked, but Wills came in at this point in the conversation, feeling that enough was enough . . and that Miss Foxworthy’s private habits were entirely her own and should certainly not be discussed at a dinner table.

  “I’m sorry Mark . . but I think we had better get on our way or you’ll get the third degree. Have you packed a bag for me Darling?”

  Evie apologised to Mark McLean and nodded to her husband, assuring him that everything was safely packed for him as she rose from the table.

  “I am inquisitive . . I know I am Mark and I am sorry. Wills is right. I shouldn’t be the way I am. Stems from my being a journalist in London, I guess.”

  “I think you’re charming Evie. You have nothing to apologise for. Thanks for the lunch. Couldn’t I help you wash up whilst Wills is getting ready?”

  “Oh! No . . No, not at all. I can easily do that when you have both gone. I don’t have anything to do all day now and the dust doesn’t seem to settle here like it does in Richmond.”

  Wills was giving Evie one of his mystical signals . .as she called them . .as he kept looking up the stairs and winking at her. “Oh! . . The bathroom’s upstairs to the right Mark, if you should want to wash your hands . . I should have told you before.”

  “No, I’m fine Evie, but thanks,” Mark replied as he took Evie’s hand and gave her another of his warm handshakes. “I hope I can come again, Evie?”

  “Anytime Mark . . and if you want to bring a friend . . please feel free.”

  Wills raised his eyes to the ceiling when he heard the ‘matchmaking’ signal again . . . .

  “Bye Darling. I’ll phone you as soon as we arrive at the hotel and let you have the details of the address.”

  “Bye Darling,” she said, “Bring me back a stick of rock, won’t you?”

  They laughed.

  ***

  “Wish I had an au pair . . or a dishwasher,” Evie thought aloud as she stared at the sink full of dishes. “He didn’t eat very much, did he?” she asked herself as she looked at Mark’s plate. “Wonder why he’s getting a divorce. Seems such a nice guy . Handsome too . . Yes, very handsome, I would say with those lovely hands and those come-to-bed eyes.” She giggled softly as she waltzed around the room with the dishcloth in her hands. “No nicotine stains on his fingers . . Offered to do the dishes with me too . . Shame . . Wonder what his wife looks like? Pretty I should imagine. Good thing his mother’s looking after the dog. Wish Wills had let me ask some more questions . . I’m sure there’s a lot more to learn there. Wonder why he wants a divorce?”

  Evie’s vibrant thoughts carried her comfortably through the washing up without her feeling the usual boring strain that she endured in that chore. She hated washing dishes . . She tid
ied the kitchen and then stood in the doorway, admiring her work, but the bread bin wasn’t straight and she’d left a fork on the work top.

  “Oh! dear . .I’ve only had one little drink and I think it has gone to my head already,” she moaned, but the doorbell rang and interrupted her thoughts. “Goodness me . . They can’t have come back again so soon . . or could they?” she said as she pulled the curtain in the lounge and looked out of the window.

  The door bell rang again and she straightened her hair and glanced at herself in the hall mirror.

  “Alright, I’m coming . .”

  The postman stood about four foot six inches high and Evie nearly missed him as she opened the door and stared ahead, before she looked down. His hat was perched at a funny angle on the back of his head and he wore a pair of pebble glass spectacles that made his eyes appear strangely large and peering when she looked at him. Had he stood on her doorstep she would have seen him straight away and then he would only have been about five foot something, she thought.

  “Mrs. Slade?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Telephone directory for ye Mrs. Slade. It’s no’ my usual round, but I’ve been asked by the telephone people if I would drop this in for ye.”

  “Oh! Thank you. That is kind.”

  He handed Evie the directory but he didn’t move from where he was standing.

  “Oh! Just a minute . .” she said hurriedly and reached into the hall stand to tug at her handbag as it dangled from a wooden peg. She took out her purse and gave the man 50p.

  “Thank you Mrs. Slade. Will ye sign this wee slip o’ paper for me noo.”

  Evie saw the little man studying the coin she had given him as she put her signature to his ‘wee slip o’ paper’ and he was straining to look under his thick lens of pebble glass.

  “Thank you. Good day,” he said as he turned away, but not before he looked back and gave Evie a black look. She closed the door and stood with her back to it.