Another Life

by Sara MacDonald

Gabby returned with dread to the farm to pack up her things for London. Nell was there, but Charlie had purposely gone out for the day. Gabby was beginning to feel like a gipsy. She had clothes at Elan’s, a few things left at John’s, possessions in the London house and the remainder of her life there at the farm.

  Elan was going to transport her things to London in the back of his capacious Jeep, bought to carry large paintings and canvases.

  Nell helped her fold and pack and chuck unwanted clothes into a bin liner for the charity shop with a sense of strange disbelief. When Gabby’s things were amassed they seemed so little for twenty-odd years of a life there.

  Gabby came with nothing and leaves with so little, Nell thought. We have never been a present-giving family. There are no precious or sentimental vases or knick-knacks. Two little watercolours I gave her once and some tiny pieces of jewellery which she rarely had occasion to wear. The only thing I have ever seen Gabby constantly wear is that tiny pearl pendant, which I thought at first she must have bought for herself, but now …

  Charlie had bought her bantams or chicken-houses, practical things because that was what she had always said she wanted …

  ‘Will I lose you, Nell?’ Gabby asked all of a sudden, thinking, Will I fade as if I have never been, as the house and land settle without me?

  ‘Of course you won’t lose me, Gabby.’

  ‘Is it possible you might come up to see me in London?’

  ‘In a while, Gab, when things have settled. If I’m invited.’

  ‘Was Josh still very upset when he came down at the weekend?’

  ‘I’m afraid he was. It seems he had a disagreement with Elan. They have never had words and I think it was a bit of a shock. He was pretty miserable …’

  ‘What, Nell? I saw you hesitate.’

  ‘He also had a pretty serious difference of opinion with Marika.’

  ‘But why? Not about me, surely?’

  ‘Marika told him he was acting like a selfish, spoilt brat, apparently.’

  ‘Oh, Nell, this is the fallout. I didn’t want this.’

  Nell sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Gabby, Josh and I had long, protracted and repetitious conversations all last weekend. He does listen to me because I am his grandmother and I am possibly the one person he cannot be rude to. Charlie, like Ted, has something intransigent about him; black is black, white is white. End of story. I have never seen any sign of it in Josh, who has a wonderful imagination, but I am afraid I did last weekend. I came up against a solid and impenetrable brick wall.’

  Gabby looked at Nell. ‘You mean Josh shows no sign of ever forgiving me?’

  ‘It’s very early days, Gab, but it is going to be a while.’

  ‘Do you think, Nell, I could find Marika’s address and write and ask her if she will be there for him. I can’t bear the thought of him being alone and unhappy.’

  Nell was silent, then she said tiredly, ‘No, I don’t think you should contact Marika. Josh is a grown man now; he has been through enough to make mature and adult decisions. He …’ Nell found this hard to say about her beloved grandson, ‘… can, it seems, bear for you to be alone and unhappy. He cannot find it in him to stop for a moment, even to be kind or express regret. Marika is right, Gabby. Josh must grow up and learn compassion and understanding even when he does not like a situation. That is what loving someone means. If he can’t he’s not going to be a very nice human being.

  ‘Marika is a very wise and astute girl. If she loves him she will leave all doors open. It is up to Josh. I’ve made it clear that the love we all have for him is unconditional, but it does not mean I approve of his attitude.’

  ‘Was he a comfort to Charlie?’

  ‘Of course Charlie loved seeing him. They got very drunk in the pub. But Charlie would not allow Josh to say anything critical about you. I was surprised. The older I get the more disconcerted I am by the vagaries of human nature.’

  ‘I’ve caused you pain. I’m so sorry, Nell.’

  Nell got up from the bed. ‘Don’t let’s go there, lovie. Now let’s get the charity sacks down to my car. I’ll take them into Penzance tomorrow.’ She paused. ‘Gabby, have you thought this through? You’re going to be so much on your own in London. There’s plenty of work in Cornwall, you know. Here, at least you have access to us all, we are a phone call away.’

  Gabby turned away and looked out of the window. This view had sustained her through so much. She said, with her back to Nell, so quietly Nell had to strain to hear her, ‘It is where I can grieve, Nell. There is such a hole here …’ She thumped her chest. ‘Sometimes I can barely breathe for the loss of him.’

  Sometimes I can barely breathe for the loss of him.

  In this bedroom she had once shared with Ted, Nell once stood exactly where Gabby stood now, staring out past the daffodil fields to a sea that changed colour as fast as the clouds flew, and she grieved and ached in stunned shock that she was there in a life with someone else.

  Grief settled over the years, like any loss must in the business of living. It faded, but never left. A sentence, a smell, a place, the angle of a head in a crowd, a laugh, a beautiful piece of music shared, all, all pulled you back years later to the moment in a room with another woman and another grief.

  Before Gabby left she walked down to the cove for the last time with Shadow. The light in October changed subtly as the sun got lower in the sky. Everything was golden. The sea seemed to take on the tinge of autumn, the colours of the fields and trees. The beaches were empty, the roads clear. Silence and a feeling of space returned to the countryside. Familiar noises of everyday living settled in the stillness with a sigh.

  As Gabby walked down the familiar stony track, she felt overwhelmed. How many hundreds of times had she walked this way? She closed her mind to the memory of a tiny fat hand in hers, singing and waving his small yellow bucket and spade or fishing net, because the memory would destroy her.

  She was leaving for a house with no one in it, and she knew as she did so it was not a house or a place that mattered, but the person within it. Without Mark, with no Josh and with no place in Cornwall, Gabby knew she would feel lonely and isolated at times. She could no longer remember a time or a life without Josh. It compounded Mark’s death, unbalanced her in these acres of blue sea and sky which had sustained and steadied her each and every day of her life here.

  She perched on the rocks, stroking Shadow’s head and looking out at a sea like a mirror. A sea mist hovered over the horizon and fishing boats catching the late morning tide chugged out to sea, bright orange buoys cheerfully gathered on their sides like balloons. Everything the same as it always is, always has been and will be.

  Gabby turned to take it all in, like snapshots she could take out in the dark. There was no danger of her forgetting a world that was engraved inside her, but she wanted also to remember exactly what she felt now; pin down the moment of love and regret; hold all that this place had given her so that it might sustain her, and even in this moment of intense pain at leaving she could know something else would grow from it, if she let it.

  From way above her, Charlie, checking the fences that separated his fields from the coastal path, saw a small figure sitting on the rocks below. He stared down. She did not seem to move at all. Her stillness was like the sea, unusually glassy and unnerving. He thought of all the years he had caught sight of her flitting through field or path, farmyard or cove, her dark head bobbing, a coloured sweater between the trees. Happily alone, a given, a fixture, a part of his life.

  Gone. The thought of her gone from here. No longer in the kitchen, no longer scattering corn for the bantams. No longer a dark head submerged under the covers as he got up in the half-light of an early morning.

  His chest tightened. A pain seized him, so fierce he doubled up, held on to the fence and cried out at the thought of her gone. When he looked down again the rocks were empty. Charlie turned and leapt over the fence and began to run down the coast path, afraid of the sound he was m
aking as the small stones flew under his pounding feet.

  Isabella could not resist the pull of early morning, and leaving Thomas to Lisette’s care she ran out and across the road and took the coast path. There was no one about and she lifted her face to the early sun, felt the soft new grass and clover under her feet.

  She stood and looked down at the cove where she and Tom used to meet. She could see small fishing boats pulling up their nets from the silvery calm sea. She walked onward towards the boatyard intending to take the village road back to the house.

  As she rounded the corner she saw him. He was leaning against the wall of the boatshed with his eyes closed and his head thrown back to the early sun. His fair hair was a little long, his white shirt was open at the throat, and he wore tan-coloured canvas trousers. His body was lean and young and brown. One leg was bent, foot flat against the wall in effortless grace. He was so beautiful Isabella’s heart leapt. She would like to watch him forever.

  Tom turned lazily in her direction, thinking it might be his father or brother ready for work. His eyes widened in surprise and then wonder at Isabella standing there. Her hair was loose and she wore a casual dress the colour of honey.

  They stood staring at each other, rapt, as if no time had passed, overwhelmed by this moment they had imagined so long. They both moved together. Isabella ran and Tom caught her and whirled her round, laughing, his teeth white against his sun-baked face.

  ‘Isabella! Are you real or a mirage? Have I been too long at sea?’

  ‘I am real, Tom! I am real!’

  ‘So you are!’ Tom said, holding her to him. ‘So you are, Isabella.’

  ‘How is it that you are here suddenly in the boatyard, Tom?’ Isabella wrapped her arms around him as if he might disappear.

  He laughed. ‘I came at dawn in a fishing boat. It was too early to wake you or my father, so I watched the sun rise, wondering if you were still here, worrying how soon I would see you again.’

  Isabella stared at him. ‘I am still here.’

  Tom bent and took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth. The kiss was sweet and the blood rushed to Isabella’s face as she balanced holding on to his arms so that this kiss might last and last. With their eyes closed they trembled, for everything was exactly as it always was, all doubts were stripped away in a single moment.

  When they pulled away Isabella felt dizzy, for she had had no breakfast, and Tom went to pour her water from the pump.

  ‘You are not ill?’ he asked anxiously.

  She smiled. ‘I am well now. I grow stronger every day.’

  Tom was unsure what this meant. He stared at Isabella, afraid to ask the question. She said, smiling, ‘You have a son. He is small but very beautiful. His name is Thomas Benjamin.’

  Tom let his breath out, rested his head on the top of hers. I have a son. I have a son.

  ‘And you, Isabella? Are you well? My father wrote how frail you were.’

  Isabella closed her eyes and whispered happily, ‘I am better now, Tom.’

  Tom said gently, ‘Shall we climb into my old musty bedroom and you can tell me your news while we rest? I am weary for I have not slept for two days.’

  Once there Tom shook the mattress and took the bedcover from a drawer, and they lay together holding each other, talking and talking until they slept.

  Tom woke first and gently woke Isabella. ‘Will Lisette be out looking for you?’

  ‘She will be worried. I must go, Tom, for the baby will need me, but I am afraid to leave you, so afraid of losing you again.’

  Tom laughed. ‘There is no chance of that. I have travelled the world to get home to you, Isabella.’ He bent to kiss her neck. ‘How soft your skin feels.’

  Her breasts were larger and Tom said, ‘Do you feed your baby, Isabella?’

  She nodded, faintly embarrassed for she remembered Richard’s eyes upon her.

  ‘I must get back, he will be hungry.’

  Tom turned her small hand in his. ‘Isabella, I cannot believe I have you and a son.’

  ‘I love you,’ Isabella said. ‘I love you as much as ever I did.’

  Tom closed his eyes, sighed. ‘I want you as my wife …’

  ‘Tom, Richard knows I will never return to Botallick House. I have obtained the deeds of the Summer House from him. I believe he is resigned to my freedom.’

  ‘Do you think your husband will ever divorce you, Isabella?’

  ‘I do not know, Tom. I do not know. I have your child and I feel as wedded to you as I will ever be, no matter what people think.’

  Tom smiled. ‘So you still have my grass ring?’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  ‘Come, you must go to my baby. I will come after dark, Isabella, to see you and my son.’

  ‘You will?’ Her eyes lit up.

  ‘Oh, I will,’ Tom said, helping her down the ladder. ‘But this time I will be very careful, for all that I love is lodged under the roof of your Summer House.’

  Nell could see the two of them walking along the edge of the field, heads bent close together. Charlie seemed to be doing all the talking but they did not appear to be arguing. Gabby seemed to be listening. Had they come across each other by mistake? Were they discussing Josh?

  She heard Elan’s Jeep coming slowly up the lane and he parked beside her, followed her eyes. The two figures had stopped and were facing each other. Shadow had stopped too and was sitting looking up at them.

  ‘What a mess it all is, Elan. Josh, Gabby, Charlie; all utterly miserable.’

  ‘Not to mention you and me, darling, skulking in the wings.’

  ‘She’s so fragile. Elan, do you think she realizes what she’s doing, cutting herself off from us?’

  ‘She’s in good old-fashioned mourning, Nell. How can she stay here with you and cry her heart out for a man who isn’t her husband, who isn’t your son?’

  ‘Oh, you’re right, as usual. I hope they are down there reaching some sort of understanding. Charlie said some dreadful things … Come on, come inside and have a drink, lovie.’

  Gabby, walking back to the house, was startled by the sound of running and loose stones on the path. It was Charlie and she was afraid he was going to start haranguing her all over again. He was out of breath and could not immediately speak. She stopped and faced him, fervently wishing she was safely gone.

  But when she looked at him she saw he was deeply upset.

  ‘Gabby, this is nonsense. Don’t go.’

  ‘What do you mean …? I …’

  ‘I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to leave the farm. I didn’t mean any of the things I said. It was wicked of me … I was way out of line.’

  ‘Charlie, that’s not why I’m leaving. I’m leaving because …’

  ‘Because you were in love with another man and you were going to leave me for him and you were probably right. But he’s dead, Gabby, nothing is going to bring him back. I know things will never be as they were, they can’t be, but I want you to stay here. I don’t want you to go. Whatever’s happened I don’t want you to leave. I’m miserable, Nell’s miserable, Josh is way beyond misery … I can’t say it all in one go. I can’t … I’m no good at this, you know I’m not, it’s probably why we’re in this mess …’

  ‘Charlie, Charlie …’ Gabby, astonished, reached out to touch his arm, was horrified to find he was shaking like a leaf. ‘Oh, Charlie, you’re doing a pretty good job of saying a lot.’

  She was going to cry. ‘I can’t switch my emotions round … I am so sad … I can’t be around you and Nell feeling like this … I feel like a traitor. I don’t understand. Why do you want me to stay, Charlie?’

  ‘When you don’t love me, you mean? When you are still grieving for someone else?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because,’ Charlie said, ‘one day you will stop grieving and being unhappy. I know his death will never go away or leave you, but one day you will wake up and it will be spring and you will suddenly realize the birds are
singing and you do want to get out of bed. And then this life, me and Nell and Josh, Shadow, the bantams, we’ll all still be here, you won’t be alone.’

  Charlie smiled, ran his hand through his hair anxiously. Gabby brought her hands up to her face and crumpled to the ground, sobbing. Charlie stood for a moment awkwardly, undecided, and then he went and knelt by Gabby and waited.

  Eventually she lifted her face up and said, ‘Charlie … I have to leave.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  The blood drained from Charlie’s face. He stared at her. ‘But I thought you couldn’t have any more … All these years …’ He thought quickly back. ‘It’s not mine?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘How do you know? Gabby, what about that day on the beach?’

  ‘I got my period that night.’

  ‘But it could have been?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He got up, turned away, and Gabby saw he was crying. She went and stood by him, dared not touch him. ‘All those years …’ he repeated, ‘… when we hoped and tried, and nothing …’ His tone was bitter.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, Charlie. What you said just now was more than I deserve. How sad …’ her voice broke again, ‘… that we only start to talk on the point of leaving.’

  Gabby moved away and walked slowly up the field towards the house. She needed to leave quickly and was relieved to see Elan’s Jeep parked in the yard. Charlie called out and Gabby turned and waited till he caught her up.

  ‘Gabby … No one will know it’s not mine. We can bring it up here on the farm like we did Josh. You know we’ve always wanted another child. It can have a wonderful childhood. Please. Stay. Let us look after you, please.’

  Gabby took his hands. ‘Charlie, you say I don’t love you … I have lived with you for twenty-odd years, you are the father of my child … I care deeply, but I cannot stay as if nothing has happened. Believe me, it wouldn’t work, really it wouldn’t.’

  Charlie held on to her hands for a minute. ‘Then will you think about it? Will you not rule it out of your life completely?’