Foxglove Farm

by Christie Barlow

  Chapter 28

  Feeling shattered, Isla stripped off her overalls and boots at the back door, and even though she felt apprehensive about seeing Drew, she smiled to herself as she heard Finn’s laughter filtering up the hallway.

  As she walked into the room Finn was kneeling up on a chair and rummaging through what looked like an assortment of material on the kitchen table. Angus was strapped into his pushchair, kicking his legs.

  ‘That’s a dress?’ exclaimed Finn, not noticing Isla standing in the doorway. ‘It looks like something they’d wear in the dinosaur days,’ he said, in all seriousness holding up the dress.

  ‘You are a cheeky moo,’ Martha laughed, ruffling his hair.

  ‘What’s going on here? It looks like a jumble sale,’ questioned Isla, popping a kiss on the top of Finn’s head.

  ‘It is a jumble sale,’ laughed Martha, immediately handing Isla a glass of wine. ‘I thought you might need one of these.’

  ‘Cheers! This is very much needed. Every muscle in my body is aching,’ said Isla, gratefully clinking her glass against Martha’s. ‘I need a long soak in the bath.’

  ‘Eat your tea first, then I’ll run you a bath.’

  Isla looked through the doorway to the living room, ‘Where’s Drew?’

  ‘He’s having a lie down … his leg is feeling uncomfortable, he’s taken some painkillers. He seems down in the dumps … poor thing, that leg must be driving him insane.’

  Isla didn’t elaborate on what had happened earlier and felt sorry she hadn’t gone to talk to him sooner, but she would as soon as he woke up. Now she pulled a chair out from underneath the table and sat next to Finn.

  ‘So, what is going on here?

  ‘These are Great-granny’s old clothes.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t call me that, it makes me feel old.’

  ‘Not quite as old as the dinosaurs,’ Finn said and gave a cheeky smile.

  ‘Mmm, I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere and that deserves a kiss,’ said Martha, impulsively taking his cheeks in both hands and kissing him noisily.

  ‘Eww, get off,’ giggled Finn, frantically wiping his cheeks.

  ‘And why are your clothes strewn all over the table?’ asked Isla, picking up one of the dresses. ‘This is actually very pretty and good quality.’

  ‘Which is why it’s here … Laura Ashley, that is.’

  ‘Very posh,’ exclaimed Isla, taking a sip of her wine.

  ‘And it would make perfect cushions for your vans.’ Martha gave Isla a knowing look. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Gran, you can’t go cutting up your clothes to make soft furnishings!’

  ‘I can … they don’t fit me anymore and I was actually sorting them out for the charity bag when I thought it would help save some money. I’ve noticed you’ve still got the sewing machine in the back bedroom …’

  Isla’s eyes widened. She knew her gran was a whizz on the sewing machine because when she was a little girl she’d often made her clothes to wear. She remembered a pair of red crushed-velvet pantaloons that tied at the knee. She’d been ten and everyone at the local disco had thought they were amazing and wanted a pair.

  ‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’

  ‘There’s no point buying material when we have all this. I can soon whip up some curtains for the vans … cushion covers … you name it, we can kit it out for next to nothing.’

  Isla gasped in delight, ‘You, Granny, are just wonderful! You have got all this under control, haven’t you?’ Isla was amazed. ‘You need to be bottled.’

  ‘Why would we put Great-gran in a bottle?’ asked Finn, alarmed.

  ‘It’s just a figure of speech,’ said Martha chuckling away.

  Isla had to admit that this time yesterday she’d had a queasy feeling swirling around in the pit of her stomach as she’d worried about the farm. But within twenty-four hours, how things had changed. Life twisted and turned in mysterious ways and here she was, about to set up her own business, and hopefully the fleeces from the alpacas would fund the outstanding debts payments.

  Sitting sipping her wine while waiting for Drew to wake, Isla watched Angus happily dribbling on to his bib while chewing a teething ring. Finn had taken himself off to the living room while Martha was clucking around the kitchen like a mother hen. Isla suddenly felt overwhelmed. There was no way she ever wanted to lose her home or Drew.

  ‘You take your wine up and go and have a bath, get cleaned up, food will be waiting, and then we can take a look at this material properly and decide what you want.’

  ‘Thanks Gran, you are a marvel.’

  With the bubbles swirling around in the hot water, Isla slipped into her bathrobe and pulled the belt tightly around her waist. She padded across the landing and peered through the crack of the door. Drew was sound asleep and she watched for a moment. He looked peaceful lying there. Isla would never tire of that handsome face.

  With a roll of her aching shoulders and a heavy sigh, she walked back to the bathroom and stared at her own reflection in the mirror.

  Isla knew she and Drew had a lot to work through but knew her marriage was worth fighting for, she just hoped he felt the same.

  If anyone had said a year ago to Isla that her marriage would go through such a rocky patch, she’d have thought they were deluded.

  Bending down, she picked up Drew’s wash bag that was slung on the bathroom floor. He hadn’t even bothered to empty it. Unzipping the bag, she reached inside and placed his toothbrush back in the holder. She took out his aftershave, the one he’d worn every day since the age of seventeen. Then Isla noticed a small black purse at the bottom of the bag. Pulling it out, she looked at it but didn’t recognise it. She couldn’t help but open the purse, her stomach churning as she pulled out a packet of white pills and numerous empty packets. What the hell were these? Isla’s heart thumped against her chest as she thumbed the packets. She was confused. Was Drew a drug addict?

  ‘Don’t be so stupid Isla,’ she said out loud, hoping to reassure herself, but maybe that would explain his mood swings and erratic behaviour. Maybe the financial trouble they were in was down to this. Isla questioned again whether she knew her husband at all. What else had he been keeping from her?

  Chapter 29

  Eyeballing the door to make sure no-one was coming, Isla quickly typed the password into the laptop and waited patiently for the Google webpage to load.

  ‘What the hell are they?’ said Isla, knowing the tablets she’d found weren’t just your bog-standard type of painkillers.

  Isla typed in the name on one of the packets – citalopram – and her eyes quickly scanned the screen as she read the loaded results. She could see instantly that the tablets were antidepressants.

  She slumped back in the chair and flipped over the six empty packets at the side of her, which meant this was not a new diagnosis for Drew.

  Drew was taking antidepressants? Why? Isla felt a rollercoaster of emotions – confused, worried and sad for Drew. How come she didn’t know anything about this? Why had he never told her?

  As Isla slipped into the bath, she cast her mind back as she tried to think of a catalyst for Drew’s depression, but she couldn’t think of anything. The thought of him visiting Dr Taylor without even telling her made her feel even more miserable. Why all the secrets? Why couldn’t he just be honest with her?

  Isla didn’t stay immersed in the water for long, she couldn’t relax. There were too many questions flying around her head and only one person could give her the answers – that’s even if he wanted to. She had no clue where they went from here, but she knew she needed to talk this over with Drew … tonight.

  ‘Are you out of that bath yet? Finn and I are starving,’ Martha shouted up the stairs. ‘Tea is on the table in two minutes.’

  ‘Coming,’ shouted Isla, drying herself and slipping into a pair of comfy joggers and a sweatshirt. As she walked downstairs she noticed the door to the spare bedroom was wide
open, which meant Drew must be awake and up.

  The table was set, with three plates of delicious-looking chilli accompanied with garlic bread. ‘That smells divine Gran,’ she said, taking Angus in her arms and snuggling him into her neck. ‘But why only three places? Who’s not eating?’

  ‘Drew.’

  ‘Drew?’

  ‘I think he and Fergus are getting cabin fever, you know what they’re like, moan they work too hard but then get bored doing nothing. Rory’s picked him up and they’ve gone to some evening auction or something. He said he’ll grab food when he’s out.’

  Isla felt peeved. ‘Nice of him to tell me,’ she said, feeling a wild combination of hurt as she tucked into her food.

  ‘Are you okay, you look a little peaky,’ asked Martha, noticing Isla was very quiet.

  ‘Maybe that’s what hard work does for you.’

  Martha narrowed her eyes, ‘Are you sure that’s all it is?’

  Isla nodded, she couldn’t talk to her gran about her findings just yet, that would be unfair to Drew.

  After tea, Isla sat down in the living room with Finn and Angus. She could barely keep her eyes open, and now she understood why Drew was fit for nothing after a day on the farm. The work was tiring with its early-morning starts and late evenings, and not to mention physical. Isla came to realise how hard Drew worked for her and the boys. She was finding it tough after only a couple of days.

  After they’d eaten, Isla and Martha colour-coordinated all of Martha’s garments and chose which ones would work for the different vans. Isla had discovered numerous old duvet covers in the airing cupboard and Martha had already transformed them into glorious cushion covers that looked like they were straight out of a soft-furnishing shop.

  ‘See, if we sew these two covers together it’ll give us a reversible set. One quite feminine and one masculine … according to who books the van,’ said Isla, feeling pleased with herself. Her enthusiasm about the vans hadn’t wavered even though her eyelids were beginning to droop, but she’d spent most of the evening wondering when Drew was going to walk back through the door.

  ‘Do you need to go and check on the pregnant alpaca?’ asked Martha, switching the material around and pushing it under the foot of the sewing machine.

  ‘No, Nate’s doing that,’ Isla answered, tapping Finn on his shoulder. ‘Time for bed, young man.’

  ‘Aww, I don’t get it, how come Angus is younger than me and goes to bed later, it’s not fair.’ Finn looked at Isla with his big wide eyes.

  ‘Because he’s a baby and the longer I can keep him up, the more sleep I’ll get, hopefully. Now go and get those PJs on and brush those teeth.’

  ‘You’ve not been your usual self tonight,’ said Martha, not looking up from the sewing machine.

  ‘I’m just shattered and I’ve another early start in the morning.’ Isla yawned.

  ‘You get yourself to bed, snuggle Angus down,’ said Martha, smiling up from the sewing machine. ‘There’s no point watching me sew, I’ll finish up here after this one and I’ll take the measurements for the curtains tomorrow.’

  Isla was grateful for the offer, but she wanted to wait up for Drew, they couldn’t keep avoiding each other.

  ‘I bet you didn’t imagine this much work when you turned up in your jam-packed Mini.’

  ‘That’s what I’m here for, to help in any way I can.’

  ‘Will you be okay to look after Angus again tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course, it will be my pleasure.’

  ‘Thanks Gran, you know what, I’ll go and read Finn a story and settle this one down,’ she said, scooping up a gurgling Angus then kissing Martha on her cheek. But she knew she would have one ear listening out for Drew to come home.

  Chapter 30

  It was gone eleven o’clock before Isla heard the crunch of car tyres on the gravel outside. She heard voices then the sound of a car door slamming, before the car drove away. Hearing the key turn in the lock, Isla sat up in bed. Now was probably not the time to confront Drew, but when would be the right time?

  Pulling her dressing gown around her and pushing her feet inside her slippers, she could hear him huffing and puffing about in the kitchen. It must be frustrating trying to manoeuvre crutches whilst trying to pour a glass of water.

  She settled a hip on the arm of the chair and waited for him to appear. Drew looked startled when he hobbled into the living room. ‘What are you doing up?’ he asked, bypassing her and heading towards the hallway. ‘Late nights and milking cows is a killer, you know.’

  ‘I can believe that … I kind of get the feeling you’re avoiding me.’

  He stopped and looked towards her, ‘It’s late Isla, I’m too tired for this.’

  ‘Too tired for what?’ she pushed.

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘What’s going on with you? Us?’ asked Isla, holding his gaze. ‘We are never like this. Drew, this isn’t us.’ Isla floundered, swallowing down a lump. ‘We always talk, discuss things, decide what’s best for us and our family. But that’s changed Drew, and I don’t know why.’

  ‘I don’t want a fight,’ he answered. ‘I just want to sleep.’

  ‘What are these?’ Isla held up the black purse she had discovered inside his washbag.

  Drew’s eyes grew wide, ‘What are doing going through my stuff?’ Immediately he was agitated. ‘You have no right to go through my stuff.’

  ‘When have I ever gone through your stuff? I emptied your washbag, put your toothbrush back where it belonged, then found this.’ Isla kept her voice calm, she needed Drew to talk, not argue with her.

  ‘I’ll sit here till the cows come home,’ she said, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Drew, talk to me? Why won’t you talk to me?’

  ‘How can I? You obviously know what they are.’ Drew crumbled, his eyes welled up with tears.

  Isla was devastated, her heart breaking seeing Drew broken. ‘Of course you can talk to me! I’m your wife, your best friend. We’ve always been able to talk, about everything and anything. Then I discover you’re on antidepressants. I knew nothing about it, and not only that, but it’s been going on for at least six months.’

  ‘How do you know that? Dr Taylor shouldn’t be discussing my personal stuff with you.’ Drew sounded alarmed.

  ‘Dr Taylor hasn’t been discussing anything with me.’ Isla laid the six empty packets on the coffee table. ‘These were inside the black purse, so I kind of assumed it wasn’t a new diagnosis. Why, Drew?’

  Momentarily, his gaze flickered towards their wedding photo on the dresser. Then his wounded eyes locked with hers.

  ‘What’s the point, you wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Try me Drew, I want to understand.’ Her voice was soft, urging Drew to talk.

  ‘Some days I don’t even want to be here.’ Drew was staring at the floor. He couldn’t look at Isla and she got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘Here in general … at the farm?’

  Drew was physically shaking and took a breath. ‘No, in life … altogether.’ There was no denying, by the tone of his voice and the look on his face, that he meant it.

  The words hit Isla like a knife being twisted through her heart. She was shocked, lost for words. Every inch of her body wept in pain for Drew, for her family. ‘What are you telling me Drew? I don’t understand.’

  ‘That’s the point, Isla. No-one understands unless they’ve been there, in a place where’s there no way out.’ This was the first time Drew had looked at her properly and she felt distressed. How did she not know Drew was feeling this way? Discovering the truth threw Isla into turmoil. His glazed eyes looked sad, empty of feeling. Isla could understand a little; after Finn had been born she’d felt sad, hopeless and had lost interest in things she enjoyed, but it was never on this scale. A pang of guilt hit her, how had she not realised? It felt like her whole world was crashing down all around her. She stared at him, listening. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Some days Isla, I f
eel like there’s no way out, like I’m clawing my way to the top of a deep black hole, everything is being poured on me … I can’t stop it … and when I reach the top someone stamps on my hand and I fall right to the bottom and the journey begins again.’

  His eyes teemed with tears.

  Fighting a mixture of compelling emotions, Isla’s thoughts had catapulted into disarray, her heart sank to a new depth. She moved next to him on the sofa and reached out for his hand, he didn’t pull away. Her eyes met his, he looked lost and frightened. ‘Drew, what about me … what about the boys? We love you.’

  The tears were now rolling down his cheeks. ‘It’s not about you or the boys. God, I love you all too, so much. But I’ve no control over how I feel, sometimes I just think you’d all be better off without me. You deserve better Isla, you deserve the best.’

  ‘You are my best,’ she said, her thoughts falling all over the place to make sense of it. ‘So, what are you saying? Are you saying you want to end us, our marriage … split up our family? Because I won’t let you.’ Uncertainty about Drew’s feelings rushed to the fore.

  Drew was shaking, the tears freely flowing as he wiped them away. Isla watched as he tried to compose himself but he couldn’t.

  ‘I’m so sorry Isla, it’s not because I don’t love you or the boys.’

  ‘Why then?’ asked Isla, trying to understand.

  ‘I just don’t know.’

  Isla was devastated, lost for words, all she could do was reach out to him, cradle him like a baby in her arms as he cried.

  ‘Have you shared with your friends how you’re feeling … Fergus … Rory?’

  Drew looked up and shook his head, ‘How can I?’

  ‘I talk to my friends.’

  ‘It’s different for women.’