The Holm Oaks

by P. M. Hubbard

  ‘Mr Absolam’s telling them,’ I said. ‘As far as we know, there’s no licence to fell. But we hoped there might be a Preservation Order as well. It’s a cast-iron case, Mr Greenslade, surely?’

  He nodded to me and then smiled up at Elizabeth. ‘What do you want me to do, then? Get my Sub-Committee to make a recommendation for them to rush through at County Hall?’

  Elizabeth said, ‘Oh, please, yes.’

  I said, ‘Mr Absolam told us you might call an emergency meeting when the thing was as urgent as this.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s not difficult. There’s only five on the Sub-Committee and three’s a quorum. One of our members represents your Division on the Council, as a matter of fact. He’ll know the holt. I tell you what. Let me have a word with Absolam and then we’ll decide what’s to be done. Won’t be a minute. Sit down.’ He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the single garden chair and went into the house. We looked at each other across the chair. Elizabeth said, ‘A bit late in the year for that, don’t you think?’ I nodded and we turned to opposite sides of the minute grass plot. The excitement had gone out of the chase, and a wave of the most appalling unhappiness rolled over me. I did not know, after all, why I was doing this, and of all things in the world I could not bear Elizabeth’s company. Inside the house I could hear Mr Greenslade calling somebody Miss. If that was the sharp blonde, she would not like it. She was a cut above being called Miss by anyone, apart from the fact that she had a husband and a wedding-ring to prove it. Then he got through to Mr Absolam. I heard a door shut, and pictured him pushing it shut with his heel, looking over his shoulder in our direction. There was no subtlety about Mr Greenslade.

  Elizabeth said, ‘I wonder how in the world he got on the Council? He can’t be a local.’

  ‘Retired man, I should say. But still full of energy and with a particular hobby-horse to ride. He’d get the Tories to take him up and run him. There’s not much competition for nomination here, I don’t think. We’re lucky to have him, on my reckoning.’

  ‘Oh yes. I’m all for Greensleeves. I’m just surprised at him, that’s all.’

  The door opened and Mr Greenslade was with us again. He was rubbing his hands. ‘I’ve had a word with Absolam,’ he said. ‘The Forestry are sending a man out tomorrow to have a word with the owner and let him know the requirements of the Forestry Act about licences for felling. Then the Local Authority will get one of their surveyors out there – the Rural District man, probably – to let us have a report on details of acreage, value and the rest. In the meantime, I’m going to get my Sub-Committee together straight away. They can make a recommendation on’ – he bowed to Elizabeth – ‘Mrs Haddon’s information subject to confirmation by the surveyor’s report. We can leave the rest to Absolam.’

  He stood for a moment warming himself in the golden glow of Elizabeth’s approbation. Then he put himself, very deliberately, into an old tweed jacket he had brought out of the house on his arm. ‘I wonder,’ he said, ‘if you could help me by giving me a lift in your car? I don’t have one. Ought to, I suppose, really.’ He looked at us in mild bewilderment at his own neglect.

  ‘The car is at your disposal,’ I said. ‘We all are.’

  He said, ‘That’s right,’ as if we were children who had made a sensible decision. Elizabeth got into the back and Mr Greenslade came beside me. ‘As a matter of fact,’ he said, ‘when I said hold a meeting, it’s more a matter of having a word with a couple of members.’ I drove off, seeing in my mind’s eye the long epic of Mr Greenslade, as the almost self-appointed champion of the county’s trees, having words all over the place with other, lesser champions in the mysterious generation of legal authority. ‘If you don’t mind going to Seddington first,’ he said, ‘we’ll have a word with Colonel Beecham. Won’t take long. Off the main road on the left ahead here. Not more than five miles, it can’t be.’

  Colonel Beecham had clipped yew hedges, at least two gardeners and hunters in a paddock. The thatch was perfect. The roses were nearly over. The Colonel leant into the car – Mr Greenslade made no attempt to get out – and made his compliments to Elizabeth. He called Mr Greenslade Tom. ‘O’ course, Tom,’ he said, ‘o’ course. Quite agree. Got to be stopped. Better get Mike Grainger. It’s his Division and he’ll know it.’

  ‘I was going to,’ said Mr Greenslade.

  ‘Good,’ said the Colonel. ‘Fine. You get hold of Mike and take it as settled.’ He asked how long we had been at Marlock, hoped we liked the place, regretted having missed us, hoped he would see us again soon, and waved us off down his perfect gravel between the yew hedges.

  ‘Good old sport,’ said Mr Greenslade. ‘Does a surprising amount for his age. Now left if you don’t mind. Grainger’s got a farm at Seele. Not far from you, in fact.’

  From behind us Elizabeth said, ‘This Mr Grainger – he’s our local member of the Council, is he?’

  Not being concerned with the road, Mr Greenslade swivelled round and talked over the back of the seat. ‘That’s right. Quite a young chap, but he farms in a big way. Go-ahead, you know. Got ideas. He won’t be left off the bus for want of pushing, Mike Grainger won’t. Sees himself in Parliament, I shouldn’t wonder. But I don’t know.’ He paused and swung slowly round in his seat again.

  ‘Not your idea?’ I said.

  ‘Well – I’ve got nothing against him myself. He’s a worker and he’s got sense. A bit of side doesn’t worry me if a man’s got something to shout about. But I don’t see him ever getting adopted. Not the type the constituencies go for. A bachelor, to start with. Apt to get himself talked about, and in the wrong way. You know.’

  Elizabeth, from the back, said, ‘The Romeo of the Rural District?’

  ‘County, anyhow,’ I said. ‘But that’s it, is it, Mr Greenslade? One for the girls, rather?’

  He nodded, a little gloomily. ‘That’s what they say,’ he said. ‘It’s none of my business, and he’s a good Councillor to my way of thinking. Only if he’s going to get any further, he wants to marry and settle down. That’s as I see it, anyhow. Left here, Mr Haddon. There’s the sign for Seele. You can’t miss it now.’

  The farm was a bevy of modern buildings, expensive, efficient and quite startlingly ugly. Somewhere in the middle of them, an old stone farmhouse had been modernized without much taste. The farmer had a long-chassis Landrover, a black Jaguar and an enormous range of polychrome farm machinery. The air was full of mechanical voices. At this hour at any rate there was no livestock to be seen. A boy with a smirk I did not like said, ‘Mr Grainger? He’s in the office.’ He looked speculatively at Elizabeth. ‘Shall I tell him?’ he said.

  ‘Tell him Tom Greenslade wants him on County Council business, will you?’ Mr Greenslade clearly did not like the boy either. He sat back in his seat and waited. We all waited for perhaps five minutes. Then Mike Grainger came to us across the yard, stepping delicately. The Romeo of the Rural District he might be, but I did not think for a moment it would stop there. There was much more to him than that. His looks were quite spectacular and his clothes, even at home on a working morning, were far from local. He said, ‘Hi there, Tom,’ swept the other two of us with a blue appraising eye and bowed gravely to Elizabeth. There was nothing wrong with his manners. Mr Greenslade did not introduce us. He said, ‘It’s about a Tree Preservation Order, Mike. The holt at Marlock. Do you know it?’ Mike Grainger’s eyes came round to us again. I thought he nodded very slightly, but mainly to himself.

  ‘I know it,’ he said. ‘A man called Wainwright owns it now. Queer type, by all accounts. Is he threatening to fell it?’

  ‘Seems so. And he’s in a hurry, so we want emergency action. All right?’

  ‘All right by me, Tom. It’s a nice bit of wood. And uncommon, as close to the sea as that. How did you hear of it?’

  Mr Greenslade put down his forced hand with a flourish. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘meet Mr and Mrs Haddon. Mr Haddon owns the Holt House. His uncle used to own the wood, but sold it to this
Mr Wainwright seemingly. It’s Mrs Haddon we’re indebted to really. She got on to Absolam at the office and he sent them on to me.’

  Mike Grainger did not lean on the side of the car. He kept his distance, smiling beautifully. The smile singed the top of my right shoulder on its way to the back seat. ‘How do you do?’ he said. ‘I should have looked in to see you, but Tom will tell you I’m a desperately busy man.’

  Elizabeth said, ‘He’s already told us.’

  ‘Good. That must be my excuse then. As a matter of fact,’ he said to Elizabeth, ‘I believe I know your sister.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The thing was unimportant, but I found it slightly surprising. I should not have thought that Mike Grainger was Stella’s kind, except that he was so perfect aesthetically. What surprised me more was Elizabeth’s reaction. I should not have been surprised if she had been taken aback, or inquisitive, or even, seeing that gorgeous creature standing there, a little jealous. As it was, she said, ‘Stella? Yes. I think she said she had met you.’ She said it in her grand-duchess voice, with, to my ears, a faint hint of amusement in it. I did not turn round, but I knew she was smiling slightly, and the splendid Mike was certainly smiling back at her.

  It was Mr Greenslade who broke up the mutual entertainment. He said, ‘Well, Mike. I’ve already seen the Colonel. I’ll tell Absolam to get out the usual minute and give the others a ring. Now if you wouldn’t mind getting me back, Mr Haddon? Seems a shame when you’re so near home, but it can’t be helped.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ I said. ‘It’s the least I can do. You wouldn’t like to run out to Marlock, I suppose, now that we’re almost there, and have a look at the holt yourself? My wife might like to be dropped there, rather than come all the way back.’ I turned to Elizabeth, but Mr Greenslade said, ‘No, no, thank you, no need. I’d like to get back, as a matter of fact.’ Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at the back of his head and I turned to my driving. We took our leave of the farmer in our different styles, and as the car moved off he raised his hand in a comprehensive gesture. It was rather like a high priest of Priapus blessing the departing congregation.

  I said over my shoulder, ‘Where did Stella meet him?’ I could not say more with Mr Greenslade beside me, for all his doubts about Mike Grainger. As it turned out, the grand duchess was in any case still in residence. She said, ‘I really don’t know. On one of her journeys, perhaps. She just mentioned it.’ I nodded and left it at that. I always left everything as it was, so far as I could, in matters lying between Elizabeth and Stella. As so often, I suspected undercurrents here, but was almost desperately concerned to keep my feet out of them. I turned to Mr Greenslade. ‘Well, now, Mr Greenslade,’ I said, ‘what about this meeting of yours?’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we’ve had it, really, as near as we need. Grainger and the Colonel and myself constitute a quorum of the Sub-Committee, and we’re all agreed. Absolam will do the rest on paper. We shall have met to consider information supplied by Mrs Haddon and confirmed by the surveyor’s report – got to get that in first, of course, but he’ll allow for that – and we’ll have resolved to recommend a Preservation Order. Absolam will tell the other two members. It’s all perfectly regular. Well, when I say regular, it’s short-circuited a bit, but what’s the difference? A majority of the Committee are agreed. The effect’s the same in the long run. The rest is just red tape.’

  Elizabeth said, ‘I think it’s wonderful.’ The grand duchess was no longer with us, and a faintly darker shade of pink stole across the nape of Mr Greenslade’s neck. I also thought it was wonderful, but confined myself to saying, ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ as in a sense I was. ‘What happens next?’ I said.

  ‘Well, once he has the Sub-Committee’s recommendation, Absolam will draft a resolution to be laid before the P.R. and G.P. and an Order to be issued by the Planning Committee on the basis of that resolution. Then that goes to the Ministry with an urgent request for provisional confirmation. It’ll be all right. In any case, he’ll be sure to let Mr Wainwright know it’s on the way. He’ll have seen the surveyor for that matter. And of course there’s always the Forestry people. They’ll get in first, as it happens, and they’re more effective than we are, to tell the truth, in a case like this.’

  ‘That’s what Mr Absolam said. Anyhow, what do we do next?’

  ‘Nothing more you can do, thanking you very much. Only watch it, of course. I don’t think he can do much, but if there’s any signs of suspicious activity, you’d better let me know at once. I’m in the book. Or Absolam. But it won’t be Barretts’ does the job, I’m pretty certain of that, and I imagine Wainwright can’t do it himself. No, I think you’ll find we’ve stopped him. Of course, he can lodge an objection to the Order, but I don’t see what he can say that even the Ministry can see any sense in.’

  We left Mr Greenslade at Lisburne. The drive home was completely silent. We were both in fact tired, but the tiredness was, on my side at least, a welcome refuge. The vultures were at my liver again, and I did not feel like talking. When we got in, Elizabeth said, ‘You realise it’s half past two, and we haven’t had any lunch. Do you want anything?’

  ‘I know. It was well after one when we left the Seele farm. That’s why I suggested coming here first and dropping you. But little Greensleeves didn’t want it, and I didn’t want to upset him. I suppose he doesn’t eat lunch.’

  ‘Never mind. He’s a pink precious treasure. I’ll get some cheese for now, and we can have tea early.’ We could have been cheerful fellow-campaigners, and I did not mind whether she was alive or dead. Or rather, I did. I minded very much indeed. For her part, she was full of barely-suppressed exhilaration, which she knew ran counter to my mood, but could not be bothered to conceal effectively. I did not think it was all to do with the trees, but I did not want to get close enough to it to examine it in detail. The food made me feel better, but I still could not think of anything I wanted to do. My whole life for weeks past had been focused on the next time I should see Carol. Now there was no edge to anything.

  Elizabeth came back from the kitchen and said, ‘Are you going into the wood today?’ It was the first time she had asked me this and the first time I was able to reply truthfully. I said, ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t particularly thought of it. Why?’

  ‘Well – just to keep an eye on things. I badly want to know how things are developing.’

  ‘I don’t see what can happen today. By tomorrow Dennis may come under fire, but hardly today. But there’s nothing to stop you going along the path if you want to. It’s probably just when you’re looking for the Rural District surveyor that you’ll see nycticorax. Or do you think he’s gone?’

  ‘Either gone or very soon going. The important thing is that he can come to the wood again next year.’

  ‘If Mr Absolam does his stuff, you’ll be able to roll the red carpet right down the central pathway.’

  She said, ‘I’ll be here, anyway.’ She emphasised the pronoun. I remembered this later. At the time I felt merely that it was another slight discord, but my mind was not properly on what she was saying. She went marching off towards the wood, so full of triumph that it showed in her step. I walked down on to the beach and turned my face westwards. The wind was not blowing as strongly as it had the night before, and the sea was less noisy, but there might still be the same anodyne in it if I walked far enough. Only it was too early yet. I could not walk till bedtime.

  I saw Carol first as a movement on the beach. She was wearing something grey which in that grey light blended indistinguishably with the colours of the stones. When I got her focused I saw that she was coming towards me. I do not know when she saw me. Almost certainly before I saw her. Her long sight was probably better than mine, and I was wearing darker clothes. For a long time we walked slowly towards each other along that endless, almost straight avenue between the tumbling grey sea and the green lip of the land. The meeting had a sort of symbolic inevitability, so that neither of us quickened
our pace or did anything to anticipate the moment of meeting. Neither of us smiled. We watched each other gravely. We might have been protagonists in a Western, ready to draw on each other at the slightest sign.

  We stopped a few feet apart and stood facing each other. She made no move to touch me, and I did not dare risk her displeasure by touching her first. She said, ‘Hullo, Jake,’ in the small, flat voice I had first heard from her. I stood there looking down at her. She said, ‘Have you done anything about the wood?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Has anything happened at your end?’

  ‘Nothing I can be sure of. Only I rather think he’s having trouble with the contractors. They’ve put the job off a week, or something of that sort. He was very angry. But that’s only what I gathered. I didn’t hear anything specific.’

  ‘It could well be. In any case, he’s going to have the authorities after him. Both the Forestry Commission and the County Council. They’ll probably show their hands tomorrow. I don’t think he can go on with it. I fancy the contractors already know that.’

  ‘Have you done that?’

  ‘Elizabeth, in fact, mostly. She’s very cock-a-hoop about it.’

  She nodded. Then she said, ‘What are you going to do?’ She was no longer talking about the wood.

  ‘I don’t know. Only I can’t leave things where they are. Something will give way. I suppose I could go away – altogether, I mean. Leave Elizabeth here, if she wanted to stay, but insist on going myself. I haven’t really been able to think effectively at all. We’d better get the business of the wood settled first. But that’s only a matter of days, really, I think. It’s simply a matter of seeing what your husband does when he finds the authorities against him. If he accepts the position, the thing’s over. Then there’s nothing to keep me, here or anywhere else.’

  She said, ‘All right, Jake. Good-bye, for now.’ Then she turned and walked off eastwards along the beach. She made a minute figure on the vast grey beach, and everything in the world dwindled with her.