by Rebecca King
“I tried to say ‘no’ to her, but she wouldn’t listen,” Ruth muttered dourly with a glare at Mrs Howell’s house. “She shoved the note at me anyway and went back inside before I could stop her. She closed the door on me when I told her that I wasn’t going to do it.”
“Of course she did. She is rude,” Poppy announced as if Ruth didn’t already know. “Do you really need to worry about offending someone like her? If she is annoyed with you for not taking the note you know you have done the right thing by not going. I mean, why would you want to put yourself out for someone so ungrateful? When has she done anything for you?”
“Well, Mrs Howell is elderly. I wouldn’t really expect her to do anything for me,” Ruth edged.
“But she could help you if she chose to. There is no reason why she couldn’t. She could do her own errands. That would be helping you, wouldn’t it? But why should she feel the need to do them for herself when she has you running around after her? She manages to walk up that hill in the summer, and when she wants to go to church on Sunday, doesn’t she? When she wants to go out and enjoy herself, she can get about like you and I can. She never seems to have a problem then, does she, or when she is going to take tea with Maureen? Now, she is so worried about her friend she cannot be bothered to make the trip up the hill before the snow started to fall. Now, it is almost night-time, and she is suddenly desperately worried about her friend and expects you to risk life and limb to battle a blizzard and a snowy hill for her. Why didn’t she go up the hill herself earlier this afternoon? Maureen is her friend after all, yet Mrs Howell didn’t feel that her concerns were important enough to put herself out and wander up that hill before now. Further, when you were ill last summer, did Mrs Howell visit you or ask you if there was anything that she could do for you?”
“Well, no,” Ruth admitted.
“Exactly. You allow all of them to take advantage of you, Ruth, but her especially.” Poppy tipped her head dismissively at Mrs Howell’s house.
“I know that I am fed up with being everyone’s unpaid servant,” Ruth muttered.
“So stop. If they fall out with you then you know that they have been undeserving of your help, don’t you?” Poppy murmured gently. She reached out to brush a thick layer of snow from Ruth’s shoulder in a maternal gesture that wasn’t lost on Ruth. “Now, go home. Sit before the fire. Don’t deliver that note. If you will take a word of advice from me? Burn it. Don’t get involved. Mrs Howell is no great loss. If she stops talking to you she will have to stop asking you to do things for her, won’t she?”
“I wish she would,” Ruth sighed. “But the next time I pass her house she will come out and demand to know why I didn’t deliver it.”
“Then take a different route to the grocery,” Poppy suggested, scowling darkly at her. “There is a longer route you can take through the woods. It is more scenic and will keep you away from her house, and everyone else’s for that matter.”
Ruth struggled to control her tears. “I don’t know how I have gotten into this mess. To begin with, I picked up some tincture for Mr Arnold when he was ill. That was all. Then I posted some letters for Mrs McGuire when she was stuck at home with her poorly baby. Since then, it has just escalated and escalated to the point that I am spending more time doing everyone else’s chores than I am my own.” Ruth’s misery was rife in her voice, and visible in her drooping shoulders. “Now, I don’t seem to be able to find a way to stop them from sucking my life dry. I feel as if I am having every ounce of will drained from me, and I cannot fight them.”
Ruth’s face was wretched as she looked across the familiar snow laden rooftops of Riddlewood. It had been her home since she had been five years old, when her mother and father had died from influenza one winter. It had been her sanctuary, her harbour in her own personal storm, but now it was starting to feel like her prison.
Poppy turned to study the village too. They were both temporarily oblivious to the snow falling all around them.
“Have you ever wondered what life would be like somewhere else?”
Ruth wanted to deny it but said: “I think about it every day. Do you ever wonder what a life of adventure would be like?”
“I think about it every day,” Poppy confessed. “If you find a way of changing your life for the better, let me know how you do it, won’t you? I think I may just follow in your footsteps.” Her gaze fell to the meandering trail they had both created through the snow.
“I wouldn’t try walking in those footsteps. Not unless you are prepared to deliver this.” Ruth lifted the note for Poppy to see. To her amazement, Poppy snatched it off her. Scrunching it into an even smaller ball, Poppy tossed it casually into Mrs Howell’s garden, then looked at Ruth with her palms facing upwards in a beseeching gesture. “What note?”
Ruth gaped at her. “Poppy Moulton, you are scandalous.” But when she looked for it, Ruth watched snow fall steadily over the missive until it vanished.
“If only everything in life was that simple, eh?” Poppy murmured, linking arms with her frozen friend. “I have to get to home too. Mother will be worried about me. If I were you, I would start to take a new route to the village. At least cutting through the trees will protect you from the worst of this weather as well as demanding neighbours, won’t it?”
By the time Poppy had finished suggesting the different routes Ruth could take to the village they were outside Ruth’s house. With a happy smile, Poppy lifted her hand in farewell and shuffled off toward home leaving Ruth to stare thoughtfully after her for a moment or two before she too sought refuge from the snowy menace outside.
“Ruth? Is that you, dear?” Maud called as soon as Ruth opened the back door to the cottage they shared on the outskirts of the village.
“Yes, it’s me,” Ruth muttered, stamping snow off her boots.
“God, you must be frozen,” Maud cried, rushing across the kitchen to help her with her things the second she saw the state of her niece. She brushed at the snow on Ruth’s shoulders and helped her shrug out of her cloak before opening the door and shaking the snow off the sodden material. “What took you so long? There now, come and get in front of the fire and warm through.”
Ruth remained quiet while she unlaced her boots and rested her aching toes on the fender before the kitchen fire. For several moments, she gazed steadily into the flames and almost forgot that her aunt was still waiting for her to answer.
“What’s happened?” Maud asked, growing concerned by the dull look in Ruth’s eyes.
Maud knew that look; something was troubling her niece. Unfortunately, she suspected she knew what it was. While she waited for Ruth to reply, Maud began to unpack the provisions Ruth had fetched from the village.
“Mrs Howell wanted me to go up the hill and take a note to Maureen.”
Maud scowled and slid a worried look at the thick wall of snow falling outside. “Why?”
Ruth told her everything. “Poppy threw it into the snow.”
“You know that Mrs Howell will be annoyed, don’t you?” Maud announced briskly.
“Why doesn’t anybody care about my welfare?” Ruth asked almost conversationally as if it didn’t come as any surprise that nobody did. “Why does everyone assume that I have nothing to do but wait on them hand and foot? Why doesn’t anybody concern themselves with what I want to do with my time, or my life? Mrs Howell couldn’t even be bothered to say ‘good day’ just now. Do you know that? She barked at me like I was a petulant servant and ordered me to run her errand like she had every right to.”
“What is all this about?” Maud frowned at the uncharacteristic resentment in Ruth’s tone. If she were honest, she had expected that she would need to have this conversation with her niece sometime soon.
“Nothing,” Ruth mumbled with another heavy sigh.
“I cannot help you if you won’t talk to me,” Maud murmured, sliding into a seat at the table. “Tell me what is wrong.”
“Have you ever wanted more from life than this?”
“You mean more than living in a village without any of life’s normal trials and tribulations?” A knowing look entered Maud’s eyes. “Don’t you think that you have had enough trials and tribulations? I mean, most of the people in this village have been born and raised here. They have their usual daily problems, like we all do, but they didn’t have the childhood problems that you had. Burying both of your parents and travelling half-way across the country to live with someone you hardly know is not an easy feat for any child to have to endure, but you did, and forged a new life here.” Maud’s voice shook with the force of the emotion she couldn’t hide when she eventually added: “You want to move on.”
Ruth opened her mouth to deny it but couldn’t bring herself to lie to her aunt. “The thought of it terrifies me, but if I don’t change things I am going to spend the rest of my life utterly miserable.” Ruth wrung her gloves out and hung them on the irons beside the fire.
“But you are miserable now,” Maud replied. “Don’t deny it. You have been putting a brave face on things practically all year. I know that look in your eyes. You are unhappy.”
“It sounds awfully ungrateful,” Ruth whispered. “You have done so much for me.”
“Oh, rubbish. If I am honest, I was glad that you came to stay with me. Living here is wonderful and we are incredibly lucky, but it is rather boring, isn’t it? Nothing much ever happens in Riddlewood.” Maud threw her a rueful look.
This was the last thing Ruth expected to hear her aunt say. “Do you regret living here? You know, not marrying or having children of your own?”
“Yes, I do,” Maud replied without hesitation. “Life in this village is what it is. As much as I love Riddlewood, living here has stopped me finding a husband. I mean, there is hardly an abundance of eligible men in the village, is there? And that is if you discount Mr Arnold.”
“Mr Arnold has to be about eighty,” Ruth muttered with a rueful grin.
Maud’s eyes twinkled. “And he is one of the eligible ones.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “That is exactly my point.”
“You have made your decision, haven’t you? Let Mrs Howell think what she likes and get as angry as she likes. She has no right to be rude to you. You are not her servant. You should mind your manners but only around people who are prepared to treat you with respect in return. Sometimes, it is best to treat people how they deserve to be treated. Mrs Howell’s rudeness makes her undeserving of your help. Don’t be concerned about upsetting her. You did the right thing refusing to help her. You were right to do what was right for you for a change.”
“Would you be so amenable if I told you that leaving Riddlewood was the right thing for me?”
“Yes, I would,” Maud announced firmly and without hesitation.
Ruth squinted at her. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Maud grinned. “I need a change of air and scenery too.”
“Are you thinking about leaving too?”
Maud’s smile fell. Her eyes were as serious as her tone when she said: “I think that this village is dying fast. Unless we can encourage newcomers to live here the place is likely to become a ghost town. I don’t want to be here when that happens. I think it’s time we both moved on.” She looked around the kitchen they were in with sad eyes. “This house has been a good home to us, but even I feel that it doesn’t fit us anymore. We need somewhere newer, preferably in a village that is less isolated.”
“Together?” Ruth asked, delighted that she had her aunt’s companionship and support.
“Together,” Maud confirmed with a firm nod.
“But how do we afford it? I mean, how do we go about finding somewhere else to live? Where should we live?” Ruth’s mind raced with possibilities.
Maud watched her niece’s stunning features return to life now that her interest was piqued. It warned Maud that Ruth really had been miserable. While she didn’t really want to leave the cottage, Maud didn’t want to be left behind to fester in the village by herself until she died either. To have to live in the cold, isolated cottage all alone was simply too awful to contemplate. Maybe a move was necessary to put the spark back into both their lives.
If it didn’t then they were about to make the biggest mistake of their lives because once they left, they wouldn’t be able to return.
CHAPTER TWO
One week later
“I am going to cut through the woods today to try to avoid everyone,” Ruth informed her aunt as she tugged her cloak on. “I think the snow has cleared enough for me to get through to the village now. We need some more provisions.”
“Are you sure, dear? I don’t mind if you want to leave it another day or so.” As she spoke, Maud stood on tip toe to peer at the sky through the kitchen window. “Those clouds still look rather heavy, don’t they?”
“Which is why I have to go now. We really need those groceries,” Ruth replied dismissively. “I am not going to dawdle so shouldn’t be too long.”
Maud turned to look at her and murmured: “Don’t allow anybody to take advantage of you.”
Ruth’s brows shot up. She was smiling when she replied: “I don’t think there is anybody in this village young enough to take advantage of me.”
Maud sniggered. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Ruth laughed outright when her aunt added: “As long as he is handsome and single, and somewhere near your age then he can take as much advantage of you as he likes.”
Ruth shook her head chidingly at her aunt. “You are incorrigible.”
“Well, you do want to change your life and a little adventure.”
“Not that kind of adventure,” Ruth snorted. “I can do without men, thank you very much.”
Ruth didn’t catch what Maud muttered beneath her breath but didn’t linger and ask Maud to repeat it. She wanted to get her trip to the village over with. With a new route in mind, and a new-found determination to avoid the locals squaring her shoulders, Ruth was ready for her new adventure. Today’s shopping expedition was going to be different to other occasions when she had trudged to the village for supplies because she was looking forward to the challenge of not just avoiding everybody but being able to say ‘no’ to them if she was stopped by people wanting errands run.
It wasn’t lost on Ruth that her renewed sense of purpose might have come from the conversation she and Maud had last night. Together, they had worked out how much they could afford to pay for a new home, and what kind of property they wanted. Now all they had to do was write to the letting agent to ask for the particulars of the properties he had available and arrange to view them. Ruth clutched the letter Maud had penned and intended to post it this very morning. It seemed to make the new phase of her life real. An impossible dream made possible. Excitement warred with terror at the thought of what the future had in store for both her and Maud, but it was too late to change her mind now even if Maud would. Ruth wanted to find out what came next, what life was like somewhere else just as much as she needed to make changes in her life to stop herself being drained every day.
“Besides, the excitement I feel now proves that the life that I have been living here has been boring and isn’t for me,” Ruth mused.
When she realised that she was talking aloud to herself, Ruth tucked her chin into her scarf and trudged into the snow-laden woodland across the street from her home. She found the narrow trail that meandered through the woods and down to the village with unerring accuracy and sighed with delight when she discovered that the heavy canopy of the branches and leaves overhead had protected most of the path from the worst of the recent blizzards. Consequently, walking through the woods was a rather easy and pleasurable journey – until she reached the outskirts of the village and the first of the buildings came into view.
As she approached a cluster of buildings surrounding a storage yard all Ruth could initially hear was the dull murmur of voices. Her first thought was that she needed to avoid anybody who was likely to ask her to run errands for them. Her st
ep faltered. She tried to decide what she could do to avoid being seen by whoever was in the yard. Ordinarily, she would have continued her journey into the village and called out a greeting to anybody she recognised as she went.
“But today is the start of a new me,” Ruth mumbled, shivering when her moist breath froze the second it touched the icy air around her head. It was a stark reminder that she had to hurry up.
Squaring her shoulders, Ruth crept toward a single-storey building located at the edge of the storage yard which was tucked away behind the recently renamed Hare and Hound, one of the village’s two taverns. Before she ventured onto the road leading to the village beyond it, Ruth glanced into the storage yard. She couldn’t see anybody but for some reason the small hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end. A feeling that something was decidedly wrong slammed into her. It was so persistent that it forced her to stop and listen to the voices when they resumed their whispered conversation.
“I am warning you now that he cannot live,” a husky baritone insisted.
Ruth’s heart began to pound. She knew instinctively that she didn’t want to listen to this conversation but couldn’t walk away. Curiosity compelled her to stay. She wanted to know who ‘he’ was, and why he couldn’t live.