by Connie Monk
Behind Bella and Leo walked David and Lily with Harold between them. Apparently he remembered nothing of how she had come to lose her life, and certainly had no idea that he had played any part in it, but it appeared to have registered on him – at any rate, for the time being – that they had lost her. As they walked down the aisle towards the open door and autumn sunshine he looked utterly miserable. He shed no tears, but there was about him an air of dejection; his shoulders sagged, he shuffled his feet. He had become a really old man ahead of his years.
‘Are you going with the family?’ Hamish McLaren had asked Louisa when he had called the previous day on the pretext of checking the hanging baskets.
‘No. They suggested I should. I was her godmother, you see. No, I shall go on my own.’ For herself she wasn’t a bit interested in what the locals chose to gossip about, but on this occasion she had no wish to give grist to their mill of scandal.
‘Then, how would it be if I came with you? I don’t want to push in, but I’d seen her so often at your place that she and I had struck up quite a friendship. It is so … so wrong that a child so young and with not a stain on her character should lose her life. Och, I said this to Mags. She is a wise soul. Sometimes she surprises me with her wisdom.’
‘She must have agreed with you?’
‘She agreed about being sad, but she said didn’t it say somewhere “Suffer little children to come unto me”?’ Then, looking uncomfortable and unsure of Louisa’s reaction, ‘Och, something like that, anyway.’
‘Certainly she was unstained with living, which is more than can be said of most of us. But life is a gift, Hamish, and it seems so unfair that hers was snatched away when she was not much more than a baby.’
He nodded. ‘It must be a hell of a pill for Bella and her husband to swallow. Many a marriage would go under.’ Louisa sensed that he said it purposely and was waiting for her reaction.
‘And surely many a marriage is strengthened by tragedy – shared tragedy. I hope theirs comes under that category.’
Clearly the hanging baskets were no more than an excuse to lead the conversation to what had been on his mind.
‘You really mean that?’ he asked, looking at her so directly that she knew without having it spelt out to her that he had heard the whispers – whispers and more – that she was sure had been circulating through the last months. He was the first to lower his gaze as he added hurriedly, ‘I have no business to ask you any such thing.’
She reached and took his hand in hers as she replied. ‘Most sincerely, I mean it, Hamish. And you have every right to ask, and to get a truthful reply.’
‘You mean you’re thinking about what I asked you? I think about it; I think about it every day. But above all things what I want for you is your happiness. And you know what folk are saying about you and the younger Mr Carter.’
‘I can imagine. Not that they would have the guts to say it in my hearing. I remember the first day I met Leo. We got on; it was as if we’d known each other for ages. Our view on life is pretty much the same, and on lots of other things too, but not everything. We would sit and discuss things, politics, morals, religion, you name it – and we’ve had deep and lengthy conversations about it. But it’s Bella who is my dear friend.’
‘I would never have thought you had much in common with her. She seems so young and kind of unworldly.’
‘When I first met her that was my opinion too, but I soon found I was wrong. Oh, you’re right, ask her the name of the prime minister and I wouldn’t put money on her knowing. But come nearer home and see her love for Leo and Ali – even for me, I truly believe – and she would defend them with her life. And now Ali has gone. Why? Why? If there is a god in charge of life and death, why did he let it happen, why did he take away the most precious gift in Bella’s life when she is pure gold through and through? Can you tell me that?’
‘No. It seems all wrong. But Mags always says not to look at things when they are too close. Let a bit of time go by and the pattern evolve, then you can see the reason.’ Then, with a grin: ‘I can’t say I’ve ever tried it. My life is pretty cushy. The only big thing I’ve ever done is borrow money from the bank to start the business, and thankfully that’s turning out OK. There’s just one thing more I want, and I hope one of these days when you stand back far enough to be able to see the pattern, I may get it. Louisa, give me an honest answer: is there someone else? I supposed it must be Leo Carter, but you tell me that you and he are friends and on the same wavelength and that Bella is your dear friend. So I cross him off the list. Is there someone else or if I’m patient do I stand a chance?’
Louisa looked at his eager eyes and knew she couldn’t tell him all he ought to hear. ‘There was someone, but that’s over now. As for being patient, the truth is I can’t think straight about the future. I should tell you that somewhere out there is a young woman just right for you. You are very dear to me and I can’t imagine you not being part of my life. But marriage is a life-changing commitment. Coming here to Lexleigh, for the first time in my life I felt free, independent.’ Was she being completely honest? She would dearly love to know that her life was permanently knitted closely with another and she was truly fond of Hamish; but marriage? Was it wicked of her to think of the glory of the hours she had spent with Leo, how they had been the focal points of her days? Imagine being Mrs McLaren, gentle, kindly Hamish making love to her. Could any man but Leo ever release the wild passion in her that grasped greedily at every sensuous touch whether tender or crazed with lust? Yet now, a day before little Ali would be lowered into the ground while Bella and Leo saw the end of the miracle that had come into their lives, Louisa wasn’t ready to think of what was in the future for Leo and her. Nothing could ever be as it had before, for Bella knew about them, Bella whose life could never again be happy and content. Suppose she had another baby – would that give her back the same joy? No. How could it? The memory was still vivid in Louisa’s mind of that young bride who had been so sure she had the best husband in the world. Louisa had no illusions; she was certain that if Leo hadn’t found her when he had, there would have been someone else. But he had found her, a thirty-year-old hungry for sex, probably something a man with his experience was able to recognize before he decided to give her experiences beyond her dreams. Ali’s death had altered all their lives, and Louisa knew nothing could be as it had been before.
So was she making a mistake in refusing Hamish? She was thirty-three, about two years older than he. Plenty of women don’t start a family until they were her age. And wouldn’t moving to the house at the garden centre, starting a completely new way of life, getting involved in the business, knowing she was loved by dear, loyal Hamish – wouldn’t all those things lay the ghost of the exciting and joyous love she had shared with Leo?
‘Tomorrow,’ Hamish went back to his original suggestion, ‘may I come with you? We could leave the car here out of the way and walk to the church. There’s not much parking there.’
‘Yes, I’d like that. I’m not going back to Ridgeway afterwards, so you could have lunch here if you like.’
Nothing could have pleased him more. He felt he was being wise not to press her for a reply; he would play the waiting game, be there for her when she needed support, have fun with her in the weekend hours they spent together and always hope that his patience would give him what he wanted. He was sure they could be happy together, and in his mind he imagined her content to look after the ‘shop’ if, after next year’s wedding, Mags stopped work to have a family. He imagined, too, the family he and Louisa would have. But then common sense came to the fore, that and fear of being hurt if all he planned never came to fruition.
At Ridgeway, emotion had been high throughout the week of Ali’s death and her funeral. Leo brought Harold back to the house from the Johnsons’ cottage, but he was uncomfortable in an atmosphere he couldn’t understand. He had been told that Ali had died but he had no idea of his part in it, and Leo insisted that was how it mus
t remain. A day didn’t pass when he didn’t suggest he should ‘take my little friend outside for a game’ or ask ‘where’s Ali? It’s a nice morning; I thought she and I would go and watch the men at work’, things that had been part of his life all through the summer months. There were times when Bella remembered Ali’s delight at his suggestion and made herself answer patiently, reminding him that Ali had gone.
It was an afternoon towards the end of the month. She felt she had to escape, and went up to Leo’s workroom to tell him that he would have to keep an eye on his father as she was going out. She opened the door, taking him by surprise, and found that he was standing at the window, staring unseeingly across the field.
‘Leo, I’m going out.’
‘Dad too?’
‘No. Three times in the last hour he has asked about Ali, wanting to take her for a walk. Where is she? Is she having a nap? He said he had a bowl ready and he would take her to pick loganberries. I told him, each time I told him, and he was upset, quite tearful because he hadn’t remembered. Then back he’d come, honestly in only a few minutes, and we’d go through the same rigmarole. Leo, it’s not fair having him here. He ought to be where he is looked after properly. People are trained for it. I can’t do it anymore.’ He heard an ominous break in her voice and knew her appearance of anger was simply to hide her misery.
‘He’d be lost if I sent him to where you say “he would be looked after”. A home, you mean – somewhere for people who are mentally deranged. I can’t do it, Bella. He’s my father. All my life he has been a hero to me.’
‘Then you’d better go down and look after him. I’m going out. He’s downstairs somewhere.’
He was watching her closely. He’d taken her so much for granted over the years they’d been together that only now was he seeing her afresh. In appearance she was as lovely, but there was something harder in her manner.
‘You’ve changed, Bella.’ Gone was the way she used to look at him with love and pride in her eyes for the world to see. It used to irritate him that she could still behave like a love-struck schoolgirl. Now he would have given a good deal to see that expression again, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it.
‘We’ve all changed – Dad, me, and I expect even you. Don’t forget, you’re in charge.’ And she was gone.
Habit dies hard, and instead of going through the front door and more quickly to the track she went through the kitchen to the back, intending to have a quick look for Harold as she went. What surprised her was that she found him in the kitchen, rummaging in the knife drawer.
‘What are you looking for, Dad?’ For no matter how much she complained to Leo that she wasn’t prepared to spend her days taking care of his father, there was something in her nature that, even after all that had happened, wouldn’t let her be anything but gentle with him.
‘Just a knife. My pencil could do with a sharpen.’
‘Look in the drawer of the bureau in the other room and you’ll find a pencil sharpener; that’ll make a much better job than a knife. I shan’t be long, I’m just going out.’ Then she made her escape before he could suggest coming with her.
Afterwards she felt guilty that she hadn’t waited with him until Leo came downstairs with a suggestion that they should walk over to the fields together and watch the man at work. But the need to escape outweighed any guilt and she hurried down the track to the lane, keen to put space between herself and Ridgeway. Her instinct was to go to Louisa just as she had ever since she had come to live at the farm. Yet she told herself that now that she knew about the affair between Louisa and Leo she ought to shun her friend. Vividly she remembered their words the week before they had both ‘happened’ to be away, and now she could see clearly that the whole conversation had been simply to disguise what they were planning. She tried to whip up dislike for Louisa, but she couldn’t. She thought of how she had helped her on the day Ali had been born, the easy, casual ten-minute chats they had shared when she’d gone to the village, the safe, secure feeling she had had in their friendship. Surely it had been the same for both of them? Louisa had given her confidence, made her believe she was capable of running her home efficiently and caring for Dad, Harold and Ali. But now there was no Ali, no darling Ali whose face always used to light up in a smile at the sight of her; Dad meant no harm but, whereas before her world fell to pieces she had willingly cared for him, now his presence was no more than a reminder of how things used to be. And what about Leo? Was he hankering after whatever it was that he and Louisa found in each other? She didn’t know if he was still making his visits to her house, and didn’t want to.
She thought of the previous night when they had both retired at the same time. When that happened she was always sure he wouldn’t settle for sleep. Thinking back to the time when first she had been thankful that he seemed satisfied to make love without leading up to it by doing things that she had found so unsettling, she supposed that Louisa welcomed what she, personally, considered unnatural. Surely that ought to make her hate the girl she had looked on as her friend. But it didn’t. She felt untouched by it, as if the Louisa who was such an important part of her life was a different person from the one Leo was interested in.
Reaching the double gate on to the track from Louisa’s garage, she saw the car was out and the door left open so that she could drive straight in on her return. That made the decision for her: there would be no visit to The Retreat. So, reaching the lane, she turned to the right, taking her away from the village and its few shops. She didn’t care where she walked; all she needed was to get away from Leo and Harold and a house so full of memories. She wanted to stride out alone and let her thoughts go where they would. Although she was laden with grief, there was no self-pity in Bella, yet neither was there a conscious effort to fight the grief off. Her life, up until the time Leo married her, had prepared her for the hard knocks she would find through the years. When she’d been little more than a toddler she had been evacuated with a carrier bag, carrying her possessions with a label around her neck. Through the years of the war she had lived with the Skidows, two brothers and three sisters, none of them married and from her viewpoint all very elderly. In fact, they had been in their fifties when she’d been delivered into their care, but from her viewpoint that had been ancient. None of them had ever been unkind to her; she’d been given the spare bedroom, her rations had been used fairly and the few shillings they had been paid each week for her board had been saved in a post office account in her name. But they had had very little contact with her, expecting her to eat her food in the kitchen with Madge, the middle-aged maid of all works. It had been no home for a child of any age, but for one as young as Bella it had left her believing herself to be of less worth than the other children in her class when she started school. When a bomb had hit the flats that had been home to her, her father had been on leave and she had lost both parents. Miss Blanche, as she was taught to address the eldest of the Skidow sisters, had called her to the drawing room and told her that her parents had been killed, but had assured her that she had nothing to worry about as she would stay where she was until the end of the war and only then go on to an orphanage. And that was exactly what had happened. After nearly six years in the Skidows’ house, when armistice came she had moved to an orphanage and her post office savings book had been given to the secretary for safe keeping until the time came for Bella to leave. Had she been older when the war began, older and living in a comfortable and loving home, she might well have been bitter and felt unjustly treated; but there were no bright memories for Bella and she had always accepted, with neither jealousy nor bitterness, that that was the way her life was destined to be. And then Leo had seen her and thought her the loveliest creature he’d ever encountered.
She had been gloriously happy as she found herself part of a family and the mother of Ali, yet when all that changed it was as if she had always known that one day her old way of life would be back. And had that day come?
Walking the count
ry lanes, she had no conception of time. Her only hold on reality was her right heel, which was rubbing. She had been aware of it before she turned off the track but wouldn’t risk going back to change her shoes. After an hour or so she could see blood where the blistered skin on her heel had broken. But she couldn’t go home, she had to think, she had to try and find a way into the future. Leaning to rest against a five-barred gate, she looked across the wide field, empty except for the herd of cows grouped together in the far corner. Just like people, she thought. All this beautiful countryside and people crowd into towns, queue up to go to the pictures and then sit in great smoke-filled cinemas. Her mind was leaping ahead, anything rather than let it go back such a short time ago to when her world had been everything she had wanted, but it hadn’t been real, just a dream of happiness. What can I do? Where can I go? Who would employ me? In that beastly office all I did was run errands, make the tea, take the post or, if I was really lucky, get given a pile of post to be filed away. I could always try to get a domestic job; I’ve had lots of practise looking after a house. But that was dangerous ground and, knowing she was being cowardly, she shied away from it.
