Another Life

by Sara MacDonald

  He placed his hands either side of her face. ‘I love you so much it hurts. I moved here to be in an empty house and when it is empty of you the heart goes out of it.’

  Gabby reached up to kiss his mouth, hesitated and then said, ‘Mark, when Josh was captured I felt the only person who knew exactly what it felt like was Charlie. In a way I was closer to him than I’ve ever been. Josh was safe, back in Kuwait, but one day I completely lost it … just lost control. Charlie comforted me and then we were suddenly making love. Everything was sort of heightened. I thought, for one minute, maybe, maybe we can start again, change and be closer …’

  Gabby stopped and Mark was very still, watching her, wondering what more was coming.

  Gabby laughed shortly but there were tears in her eyes. She moved slightly away from him. ‘But you know what, Mark? It wasn’t that at all, it was the end. Charlie was embarrassed at how we had behaved. He didn’t want to be any closer than we already were. He wanted life to go on just as it had before. No emotional demands.’

  She met Mark’s eyes. ‘I’m telling you this because I’ll never know if I could really have started again. I do not love Charlie in the way I love you. I never have, and maybe I believed for a second the two of us could reach a place of closer fondness, if not love, because of all that had happened and because we were so lucky Josh wasn’t killed.

  ‘What hurt was I would have tried, despite loving you. Charlie could not even try, not for even a second. Because you see, Mark, he doesn’t love me in the least and he was sweating like hell in case I had suddenly got the wrong impression. So … life is ironic.’

  They started to walk slowly towards the gate. Gabby was cold and Mark tucked her hand in his pocket. They were about to have an early supper and then the university were putting on Carmen.

  Mark said, ‘I knew there was a strong possibility that I would lose you and I would have understood. I knew if Veronique had cancer I couldn’t leave her. On my own here I became like Eeyore, convinced fate was going to keep us apart, prevent us from ever having a life together. Let’s guard what we have, Gabriella. We are so damn lucky to have a reprieve.’

  Gabby stopped walking and turned to him again.

  ‘In Cornwall you seemed so far away. I had this stupid superstition that if I opened your e-mails or rang you Josh would be killed as punishment. When I heard your voice on the phone it was as if I had woken from a nightmare and there you were … So wonderful. There you were!’

  They walked through the underpass and hailed a taxi.

  ‘Will you go back to Cornwall when I fly home?’ Mark asked in the taxi. ‘Do you know any more about Josh’s leave?’

  ‘No. Mark, I can’t say anything to Josh yet, it is too soon after his fright. I just couldn’t …’

  ‘Gabriella, you couldn’t possibly do it now. You’ll have to judge it carefully, as I will. I mentioned you going back only because I know you’re worrying about Nell.’

  ‘I am.’ Gabby sighed. ‘When I’ve finished the painting I’m working on I think I will go back while you’re away and spend some time with her.’

  ‘Do you believe you’ll lose Nell?’

  ‘I think she’ll feel betrayed. I think I’ll lose her for a while.’

  Her happiness was dissipating and Mark said softly, ‘Shall we put our other lives away just for this evening, my love? Our time together is precious.’

  ‘Yes,’ Gabby said. ‘Yes it is. You’re right. Just a moment a word, and it’s gone … Why are you smiling?’

  ‘I see you also have a bit of Eeyore in you.’

  Gabby giggled, leant against him in the taxi and watched the swarms of people heading home in the rush hour.

  Nell noticed how quiet Charlie was after Gabby decided to go back to London. It seemed so sudden, her departure, although Nell could understand Gabby’s need to get back to normal, and she had been disappointed that Josh could still not get home on leave.

  Nell had spoken to Josh and he sounded his old self, just rather fed-up as the army were prevaricating about any leave for pilots at the moment. He wanted to come home for a while as much as they all needed to see him. Josh and his colleagues had been told if they wanted immediate leave they must pay for the flight home. Nell had been outraged.

  ‘Don’t tell Gabby, Nell, she’ll do her nut and write e-mails or something to the BBC and I will get court-martialled!’

  ‘Don’t be so sure I won’t dash a few letters off myself, my lad.’

  ‘Granny, Granny, please …’

  Nell smiled to herself, marvelling at the ability of the young to bounce back. She picked up her basket and went to search for eggs. She shooed two broody hens out of the nesting box.

  ‘Come on, girls, it’s too late in the year. Go on out or I’ll put you in the pot!’

  Charlie crossed the yard and heard her. He held up a handful of small brown eggs.

  ‘One of them is laying in the barn again.’

  ‘I thought so!’ Nell exclaimed. ‘I saw Maisie coming out of there yesterday.’

  Charlie placed them in her basket.

  ‘Have you had breakfast?’ Nell asked.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Would you like a cooked breakfast with one of these eggs?’

  Charlie laughed. ‘Good heavens, Nell! Are you really offering to clog my arteries?’

  ‘I just thought you were looking a bit thin.’

  ‘I’d love a cooked breakfast. I’m going to plough up the east field later on. I was wondering … I haven’t put it to Alan yet … about going into soft fruit. Strawberries. Pick your own. What do you think?’

  Nell put the egg basket down on the kitchen table and turned the Aga up. She had a distinct sense that Charlie was making conversation in order to deflect anything Nell might have to ask. Am I that transparent? she wondered.

  ‘It’s a lot of work. It can be financially rewarding, but so much depends on the weather.’

  ‘Doesn’t everything?’ Charlie switched the kettle on.

  As Nell fried his bacon the telephone went. It was Josh. Charlie grinned happily. ‘That’s great, son, really great. When? OK … No, she’s in London … I’m sure she won’t mind. Give her a ring … Oh, right. OK. Nell or I will ring her. Do you want her to meet you off the plane? All right, son. See you soon.’

  ‘He’s coming home?’ Nell asked excitedly.

  ‘Yes, he’s flying back on Friday. He wants to bring Marika with him. He can’t ring Gabby because she’s on a mobile. Will you give her a ring, Nell?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Why are you looking like that?’

  ‘Well, I just wondered if Gabby might have liked to see Josh on his own.’

  Charlie stared at her. ‘Honestly! I wonder how Josh cut the apron strings at all!’

  ‘Wouldn’t you have quite liked to see him on your own?’

  ‘I’m just happy he’s coming home, Nell.’

  As if I’m not! Nell would have quite liked to bang the frying pan over Charlie’s head. Although of course he was right.

  She put his breakfast in front of him and made herself a coffee.

  ‘Everything is all right with you and Gabby, Charlie?’

  He looked up. ‘Why shouldn’t it be?’

  ‘I don’t know. She was very upset and frail and she suddenly took off.’

  ‘I expect she was asked to clean a picture or something. Best thing. Pointless her sitting here brooding, waiting for Josh to come home.’

  Something in his voice. Nell said evenly, ‘You both got the most terrible fright, you know, Charlie. You might not think it, but that sort of trauma leaves an aftermath, in you as well as Gabby.’

  ‘Rubbish! I’m fine.’

  Then, abruptly, Charlie put his knife and fork down.

  ‘You know what gets me about women? You must make melodrama out of everything. Analyse every damn emotion until it becomes a major incident. My God, how did people get on in two wars for God’s sake? It really bugs me, Nell.�
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  He went back to his breakfast and Nell, startled, watched him for a moment. There was a small muscle going in his cheek, a sure sign he was disturbed about something. Nell could have said, In the war people came back with shell shock, with huge emotional trauma which affected them and the people close to them for the rest of their lives. But she didn’t.

  I am growing old, she thought. I can’t be bothered any longer to engage. When did this ennui start to creep up on me? This feeling of lethargy and pointlessness. A feeling of change and impermanence when there is none. The need to sleep longer, to drink a little more in the evenings.

  The pleasure in a new day had vanished. These mornings, when the sun slid in through the window and crept across the bed along with the same familiar noises, Nell thought, What have I got to get up for?

  I am not yet old, but I have outgrown myself. A strange feeling.

  Charlie said, in a different voice, a sort of apology for his outburst, ‘I thought I might go up to the Caradons’, speak to Sarah. They’ve been doing pick and grow for years.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Nell said. ‘I must get on. I’ll ring Gabby from the cottage. Have a good day.’

  ‘You, too. I might have a quick sandwich in the pub as I’m that way, save me coming all the way home.’

  Nell walked back across the yard. It would be quite wonderful to see Josh again. For the first time she felt glad he had got away from the farm, from Cornwall. Too invidiously small a canvas. Perhaps she should have gone when Ted died, back to a different life. However, she knew she could not have borne to miss out on Josh or Gabby.

  As she dialled Gabby’s mobile number a little worm of a thought burrowed upwards. Did Charlie dislike women?

  Chapter 60

  Richard took his whisky outside and went and stood under the flagpole where he had the best view of the bay. He caught a glimpse of blue on the path and peered into the sun, shading his eyes with his hand. His spirits rose. It was Isabella and he watched her moving towards him.

  Her beauty never ceased to thrill him. Daniel was right. Isabella needed children, it was what women were born for, it was their role in life; whatever they pretended, a woman without a child was to be pitied.

  As Isabella reached the turn in the path where it became steep, she paused, and like him turned to look out at the bay and the busy trail of small boats making for home. The wind caught her hair and blew it around her face, caught at her dress and blew it tight to her body and the thin material clung to breast and limbs.

  Richard stared down at his wife. Since her influenza she had grown thin. It was noticeable in her arms and face. But her body was … thicker, the material tighter around her breasts and waist. She turned to continue up the path and Richard clearly saw the small protuberance of her stomach as Isabella placed one hand on her side, as if to balance herself as she climbed.

  For a second his heart leapt with joy as he fought to remember how long it was since he had shared a bed with his wife. Too long. At least four months. Something cold clutched at him. He might have been a bachelor for a long time but he had sisters, and he knew Isabella was not that far gone. If it was mine she would have spoken to me.

  She had disappeared around the bend in the path and would reappear any moment in front of him. He wanted to turn and run for the house but he could not move. He could feel the blood draining from his face and for the first time in his life he felt he might pass out unconscious. He clutched the flagpole, his eyes still fixed to the point Isabella would emerge from the path.

  As Isabella came from the trees she saw her husband ashen and clutching the pole and ran towards him with a cry; ‘Richard, Richard, what is it? Are you ill?’

  He could not answer and Isabella, believing he must have had a heart attack, cried out to the house, ‘Come quickly. Please come quickly, Sir Richard is ill!’

  She went to him. ‘Richard, Richard, lean on me. Can you walk? We must get you inside. Oh dear! Richard, can you speak? There, that’s it, lean on me …’

  Richard’s steward, Trathan, and the groom came running from the side of the house, alerted by Isabella’s cries. They helped Richard slowly back to the house, but he would not let Isabella’s hand go and she ran awkwardly beside him as they got him inside and into the drawing room and laid him on the chaise longue.

  ‘Ride for the doctor,’ she told the groom, ‘as fast as you can.’

  ‘No!’ Richard had got his voice back. ‘No, it is just a turn, give me brandy. I will recover in a moment.’

  The groom hesitated. Isabella said, ‘Richard, you must see the doctor in case it is your heart. Go, at once.’ She waved the groom out of the room.

  She felt Richard’s brow; it was clammy. She turned to the steward, ‘Could you please find Sir Richard a brandy and call one of the maids to bring me water with lavender?’

  When it came Richard leant back and closed his eyes and let Isabella gently bathe his face, the inside of his wrists and between his fingers. Helena had taught Isabella this reviving trick with lavender. Isabella was so gentle and loving that for moments Richard pretended that all was normal. This was his beloved wife tenderly caring for him. This sweet girl would never betray him. Then he saw again the clear shape of her body silhouetted against the dying sun and a light was snuffed out like the sudden movement of two fingers extinguishing a candle.

  The doctor ushered him up to bed and examined him. His heart rate and blood pressure were up, otherwise he could find nothing wrong with Sir Richard, except perhaps overwork or too much excitement. The doctor viewed the much younger wife from beneath half-moon glasses and ordered, ‘No undue exercise or excitement for a week or so.’

  He was more perplexed by the undue quietness of his patient, normally so loud and bluff. If it was anyone but Sir Richard the doctor would have diagnosed a malaise of the spirit, a depression. He said to Isabella, in case he had missed something, ‘If there are any other symptoms you must call me straight away.’

  After he had gone, Richard turned to Isabella.

  ‘Will you stay with me for company? I do not wish to be alone tonight?’

  ‘Of course, Richard,’ Isabella said. ‘Could you take some soup?’

  He shook his head. ‘Just ask Trathan to bring me brandy.’

  Isabella went downstairs. She had never seen Richard like this. Lisette was waiting for her.

  ‘Is it his heart?’

  ‘The doctor thinks not, but I shall stay with him tonight just to be sure.’

  When Isabella was ready for bed she went back to Richard. He smelt of lavender water and brandy and seemed asleep. She climbed into bed beside him and lay on her back, knowing she would not sleep.

  Richard was very still beside her. He did not turn or move, his breathing was shallow, but she felt sure he did not sleep. She lay, acutely aware of him and frightened in a way she did not comprehend. His unnatural stillness was disturbing.

  Such misery emanated from Richard that Isabella got up quietly and drew back the heavy curtains so that she might see his face. She looked down upon him. His eyes were shut against her but he silently wept for a precious thing lost.

  Isabella felt weightless. All was now clear. She felt as if she had struck a child or shot a decent man in the back. What she had done was break a man’s heart.

  With the edges of her nightdress she dabbed at the steady yet incessant flow of her husband’s tears, terrible to see for she had never seen a grown man weep. Isabella’s betrayal rose up in her in an anguish that would become part of her. She wept with her husband, bent her cheek to his, sobbing uncontrollably.

  Richard brought his arms up and enfolded her, and she lay with her head turned from him, buried in his shoulder, weeping until she could weep no more. Richard thought, I will have this one last night holding the woman I have loved beyond anything sensible. I will have it, not to remember, but to seal the end of my happiness, when I was a reasonable man and would not hurt another human being. To remind myself of that.

 
As a new day edged up over the water beyond their window in a thin straight line of gold, both Isabella and Richard fell into a strange, awkward and unreal sleep. They held each other closer than they had ever done in their short marriage. Held each other in denial of a thing that could not be undone.

  Chapter 61

  Marika and Josh drove down to Cornwall in her mother’s car. Josh had never been so pleased to see anyone in his life. They were going to spend three days at the farm and then go off on their own to Florence, where neither had been before.

  As soon as Josh arrived at the farm he felt peculiar, as if he had made a mistake in coming home and should have taken off with Marika straight away.

  Gabby and Nell were so overjoyed to see him that he felt impelled to react in a way they expected and not in the way he felt. It was easier with Charlie, who was much more casual and did not make him the centre of attention.

  Josh knew he was being unfair, but something in him had to keep Gabby and Nell at a distance. Gabby more than Nell, because Nell was less nervous of saying or doing the wrong thing.

  Gabby and Nell had moved his childhood bed out of his room and replaced it with a double bed from one of the spare rooms, and Josh was touched. He and Marika walked miles with Shadow. She was enchanted with Cornwall and was happy to go off on her own when he disappeared on the tractor or to the pub with Charlie, and just as happy to be with Nell or Gabby.

  One afternoon Marika and Gabby set off together for a walk along the cliffs. Marika was struck by Gabby’s fierce love of this landscape. It was like seeing her for the first time in her own element and Marika warmed to her because being in Cornwall reminded her suddenly of home; her own suffocated ache for the village she grew up in and the mountains that bordered the coastline and were reflected stark and clear in the sea. It was easier not to be homesick – to mingle and forget and be swallowed whole – in a cosmopolitan university city.