‘Listen, don’t go fixing up things around the barn or the house, you’ve got your own job to do. It can wait.’
‘I can fit it in, not a problem.’
‘Really, there’s no need.’ He looked away.
‘Barney, what are you talking about? You always make sure the barn is in good repair so it’s ready for the Wedding Dress Ball every year. You hate things to be left until the last minute.’
Barney shrugged noncommittally. ‘Don’t worry yourself about it.’
‘You’re going to pay someone else?’
‘No, I’m just going to leave it.’
Harvey ran a hand across his chin. ‘Now we both know you’re not going to do that. The Wedding Dress Ball is in just over a month. It’s a safety issue and you wouldn’t want it on your conscience if someone got hurt by the glass breaking in one of the little windows, or if one of those beams came down mid-dance, or if –’
‘I’ll stop you right there. No, I would never forgive myself, you’re right. Which is why it’s not happening.’
‘What’s not happening?’
Again the ceiling held Barney’s attention, his eyes fixed on the yellowish surface punctuated only by stark lighting. ‘The Wedding Dress Ball isn’t going to happen, I’m cancelling the whole thing.’
‘You can’t be serious.’ The Wedding Dress Ball had been running for more than four decades, with Barney at the helm every single time. It was a tradition older than Harvey himself. Everyone in the village looked forward to it and it always raised a great deal of money for Barney’s nominated charity. ‘You run it every year, without fail.’
‘Yes, well not this year.’
‘But –’
‘I don’t want to hear another word about it. The Wedding Dress Ball is off, full stop. I’m past it. I’ve been kidding myself that I can keep it going. I started the event on a whim, I don’t want to do it anymore.’
‘Tickets have already been sold.’
‘Then I’ll give people their money back.’
Harvey had forgotten how rank the coffee was and reached out for his cup, took another sip and grimaced. He looked around for a sink but he’d have to find one out of the ward to get rid of it.
‘Can you find out when can I get out of here?’ Barney complained again without turning to face Harvey.
‘I’ll go and see what the hold-up is.’
‘If you would.’
Harvey was there and back within minutes, pouring away his coffee before he did anything else. ‘They’re waiting for the doc to swing by and as soon as he does, any second now, you’re out of here.’
Barney managed a small smile and faced Harvey. ‘Thanks, son.’
The address always pleased Harvey. No matter whether he was eight years old and waiting to grow taller than the girls in his class at school or thirty-three and six-foot-five, hearing it always told him his place in this man’s life. ‘They did want my assurance that you have someone at home to help you, so I’ve told them that’ll be me. No arguments.’
‘I suppose if I fight you over it I’ll have to stay here,’ Barney remarked with a trace of the usual humour.
‘Too right you will.’
‘Then I’ll take the lesser of two evils.’
‘Thought you might.’
Barney turned over properly in bed to face him. ‘Was it the blonde or the red-headed nurse you spoke to?’
Harvey laughed. ‘Why does it matter?’ One strong hand toyed with the palm of the other, which had a small cut from pulling out a big weed from the beds of the elderflower bushes at his property. He’d been inspecting the clusters of elderflowers that would, come August, produce berries ripe for picking. The rush would be on to get every last one, dish them out to whoever wanted any, and freeze or dry some for his own use.
‘It matters,’ said Barney, ‘because the blonde has the hots for you.’
‘She does not.’
‘She does. You can’t see things from my vantage point, put it that way.’
‘There’s not much wrong with you apart from that hip, is there?’ He ran a hand through the dark brown tufts of his hair that could do with a cut.
‘I want to see you settled, that’s all. Don’t be like me, don’t end up alone.’
‘And you think a fling with a nurse will accomplish that?’
‘Wouldn’t hurt.’
‘Well, I’m settled enough thank you. I have a job I enjoy, I’m not stuck at a desk, I’m out in the fresh air, I have mates to go to the pub for a drink with – you don’t need to worry about me.’
‘Just looking out for you.’
‘And I appreciate it.’ He only wished Barney would let him do the same in return. ‘While I was talking to the nurse I asked about your recovery. She said it’ll be three to six weeks until you’re back to normal activities.’
‘You know, I’ve read about this.’
‘Recovery after a hip fracture and replacement?’ This was looking hopeful.
‘No, about people my age going about their business one minute, happy, not a care in the world, and then one fall, one accident, one illness, and it’s all downhill.’
It wasn’t quite the positive approach Harvey was hoping for. ‘I’m going to help you recuperate, I’m there for you. Please don’t think this is the end.’ Barney didn’t say anything. ‘And you love putting on the Wedding Dress Ball, to hear you talk of cancelling is a shock. Wait until you’re back in Heritage Cove, make a decision then.’
‘I’ve made up my mind. The ball has had its time and if someone else wants to do it then let them be my guest. It’s a lot of hassle I don’t really need.’ Barney had never referred to the ball as a hassle. Even the year he’d had an out-of-the-blue summer cold and felt rotten, Barney had still given the organising his all and the event had gone ahead as planned. ‘Best to give everyone their money back.’
Harvey sat, arms outstretched along his thighs. He looked up at the corner of the ceiling in the ward where a cobweb hung, detached at one end and dangling down, perhaps too scared to float to the floor and become a part of the hopelessness surrounding Barney’s bed. His gaze flicked over to the window, the dullness of the sky, the scaffolding on a building over the bypass that ran between the hospital on one side and a shopping centre on the other. He watched Barney turn his head away from him yet again, this time to look at the pale blue curtain that separated his own section of the ward from the rest, where in one bed there was an old lady who’d been in here a fortnight, in another a cantankerous old man who moaned at everyone who set foot in the ward day and night, visitors and staff.
Perhaps what he was about to say could shock Barney into the present moment. ‘I got in touch with Melissa.’
It worked, Barney finally met his gaze. ‘Now there’s something I thought I’d never hear from you.’
‘I haven’t heard back from her yet, but she knows about the fall, she knows you’re in hospital.’
They hadn’t spoken about Melissa in a long time. Barney tried now and then but knew what response he’d get. Harvey didn’t much enjoy talking about the woman who’d broken his heart. She’d moved on, left him behind, and there wasn’t a lot he could do to change it. Perhaps it was his own fault – he hadn’t stopped her; in fact, as far as she knew, he’d just changed his mind and hadn’t wanted to go to London with her. He’d never told her the real reasons why because he didn’t want her to feel guilty, to stay in Heritage Cove just because he couldn’t leave. Any fool could see she needed to get away, but it was her never looking back that had hurt him so deeply.
Melissa hadn’t come back to the Cove after she left. She hadn’t even come to see Barney in all this time, and for that Harvey wasn’t sure he could ever forgive her. But he’d had to let her know about the fall. As Barney lay there on the floor that day, Harvey’s heart was squeezed with a ten-tonne weight and it was a moment of clarity. Nothing in life was for certain. Barney had always been there for them both, but he was getting older, he would
n’t be around forever, and the thought terrified Harvey. Waiting for the ambulance to turn up, Harvey had thought about Melissa and how she’d feel if Barney didn’t pull through. It had been enough to tell him he had to get in touch with her. Part of him didn’t want to, part of him wanted to punish her for her lack of interest, but he didn’t have it in him to do it. And so once he was at the hospital he’d got in touch with her best friend Tracy, who still lived in Heritage Cove and had Melissa’s email address – he’d deleted it a long time ago - and he’d sent the brief message to tell her about the accident.
‘I guess I need to thank you for telling her.’ Barney brightened for a moment. ‘Maybe she’ll call. I hope you didn’t worry her too much.’
Harvey hoped he had. ‘I just told her the facts.’
‘We haven’t talked about her in a while.’
‘No, we haven’t.’ Because she hadn’t looked back, so why should he?
Daniel had done the same thing – upped and left, just like Melissa. You’d think he would be used to it somehow.
Barney winced, trying to lever himself up in the bed, and Harvey went to him. ‘Let me help you.’ He adjusted the pillow so Barney could settle himself back down again. ‘Any better?’
‘A bit…where’s that doctor? He should be here by now, letting me go home.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he can.’
‘I know I’m not the best patient,’ said Barney.
‘Really?’ Harvey laughed. ‘Never would’ve known.’
Barney managed a smile but tiredness was sweeping over him like the winds that came off the sea in Heritage Cove on a blustery day, the gusts that stopped you from making your way down to the beautiful spot where the wine-glass-shaped cove spread out before your eyes. It was inaccessible except to pedestrians, something Harvey appreciated because it kept it quiet, a local hideout more or less. Tourists still came to the village, but plenty couldn’t be bothered to make the trip down to the water’s edge on foot and heeded the warning signs about exercising caution on the climb down to the golden sands below. Instead, they drove on further, to just outside Heritage Cove, where there was a far more accessible beach with a car park and an easy trip down to the sea.
‘I’ll let you rest,’ Harvey told Barney. ‘I’ll go for a wander and hopefully by the time I get back the doctor will have been to see you.’
Barney made some sort of grunt, clearly in pain with his hip reminding him of what had happened. But he’d brightened at the mention of Melissa; perhaps she’d at least call. She owed it to Barney, they both did.
*
The doctor took his own sweet time to get around to see Barney but at last he’d been discharged and they were in Harvey’s pickup making their way home to Heritage Cove before midday.
The windscreen wipers swished away the drizzle as Harvey turned off the main road and, driving more carefully than usual, not wanting to cause Barney any discomfort, he pulled into the village. At least Barney wouldn’t have the tatty walls of the hospital and greying skies outside to focus on, he could be home in his own place and look out to the trees beyond, the barn that showed off its fine walnut-coloured top when the sun caressed its roof on a fine day.
‘Almost there,’ he told Barney, who opened his eyes at last. There may even have been a glimmer of a smile there somewhere.
‘Good, I need to be home. I’m surprised anyone survives hospital stays, I had a fear I’d never come out again.’
As Harvey made his way along The Street, the main road through the village, he expected Barney to be looking this way and that to see who he could spot. He was waiting for a request to pull over so Barney could chat, but Barney sat quietly in the passenger seat, strangely detached from the beauty of the Cove that he always said was impressive no matter the season. Barney claimed this village had a way of drawing you in, whether it was the appeal of the tea rooms when the fog lay like a blanket across the tops of the buildings and gardens, the lights at Christmas adorning lamp-posts and shop fronts, a waft of spring flowers as winter went away for another year or the salty scent of the sea in summer, drifting up from the Cove. Harvey had always shared those opinions, even after the darker times he’d faced, and he hoped that Heritage Cove would be the tonic to draw Barney out of his current dispiritedness. But sneaking a glance across at him now, he realised it might not be quite so simple.
Harvey turned right into the lane that would take him around the back of Barney’s property and before long pulled into the courtyard opposite the barn. ‘Home sweet home. Wait, I’ll come around to your side.’ He’d expected Barney to argue that he didn’t need any help, that he could manage just fine. But he stayed where he was and didn’t move until Harvey was there to help him out, to hold him under his arm and ensure he had his balance. ‘I’ll take you inside then I’ll grab the walking frame.’ At least they’d scared away the rain for the time being and the sun was starting to creep out from behind the murky clouds.
As they walked Barney didn’t even take in the beauty of the surrounding fields with their patchwork of greens, mustards and browns. He didn’t comment on the smell of freshly cut grass mingled with the distinctive aroma of recent rainfall, nor did he stop to enjoy the rapid burst of song from the wren perched on the big tree stump before he headed towards the house.
‘We could sit outside a while…’ Harvey suggested.
But Barney wasn’t interested. ‘I need to lie down.’
Harvey unlocked the door. ‘You’ve been in a bed for days, how about we settle you in the lounge? I could open the window so you can listen to the birds, wait for the rain to start up again.’ He looked out at the skies above and, sure enough, there were more unforgiving clouds drifting this way so the sun wasn’t likely to be out for long. ‘I know how you like to hear the rain pounding the roof of the barn.’ They’d seen some great storms in their time and as kids, Harvey and Melissa had knelt next to one another at the window in Barney’s lounge watching lightning strikes above the barn, the dark ominous clouds unleashing more rain than they thought possible.
But Barney didn’t seem interested in any of that. He shuffled past the sofa and the armchairs and out to the hall before going into his bedroom. When he was safely sitting on the bed Harvey went back to get the walking frame from his pickup. He took it inside and set it near the bed, within reach.
‘You don’t have to watch me like a hawk,’ Barney insisted. ‘I moved around the hospital just fine when the nurses made me.’
That was the thing. Ordinarily it would’ve been Barney instigating the moving, the walking, anything to get back to normal. It was as though he’d lost all his confidence in a few short days.
‘I’ll be in the lounge if you need me then. Are you hungry? There are a couple of apples in the fruit bowl in the kitchen, they still look passable.’
‘I’m not hungry, no. And I’ve got a phone by my bed, you don’t have to hang around.’
Harvey supposed he’d want some time to settle in. ‘I’ll give you some space, shall I?’
‘Please. I’ll need an hour or so, maybe two. Why don’t you come back then?’ His tone had softened, most probably to convince Harvey to let him be.
‘Fine, I’ll go out for a couple of hours and get a few things done. But do me a favour – call me when you wake up?’ He held his hands up in defence. ‘I know you don’t want the fuss but it’s day one of being home, indulge me.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ll ever go unless I agree.’
‘You know me well. And I’ll get some food organised for you, make you a late lunch. Your cupboards are empty, you’re almost out of milk. I didn’t realise you’d be coming home today so I didn’t get a chance to do a shop beforehand.’
‘And so it begins…’
‘And so what begins?’
‘Being helpless, old, past it.’
Harvey would’ve laughed if he didn’t think Barney truly believed what he was saying. He didn’t push the conversation, instead he f
illed a glass of water from the tap and left it beside Barney’s bed. With a couple of hours’ freedom he took the drill he’d left in the tray of his pickup over to the house that he and the rest of the loft-conversion team were working on. He’d taken the day off as soon as he knew Barney was coming home, but the other lads wouldn’t be able to let up just because he did.
Once he’d dropped the drill off he headed back to Heritage Cove, the clouds above unleashing their worst again as he drove around the corner, past the Heritage Inn, the lane that led down to open fields, the bakery, tea rooms and a gift shop, before passing a set of cottages squeezed together in a tight row, huddled against one another for warmth in the colder months, all of which now, despite the cool and decidedly wet day, had their upper windows flung open to get air circulating. He took the next left turn before the candle shop, the corner shop and the pub beyond and meandered along the bumpy track towards his own home.
Tumbleweed House had been in Harvey’s family since before he was born. It had come from his mum’s side, his grandparents having operated a small farm on site where they grew elderberry plants. The business had been successful but after Harvey’s grandparents had passed away and his mum inherited the house, most of the surrounding fields were sold off. His mum, Carol, had been a stay-at-home mum Harvey’s whole life, even when he was too old to need her there, and he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. What he would’ve changed was his dad. Harvey had long suspected that getting rid of the elderberry business was Donnie Luddington’s doing, his dad’s need for control overriding everything else – he had his wife at home where he wanted her to be while he drove around the country manipulating others with false niceties in his job as a software sales rep. But Harvey knew the truth about him, he couldn’t talk his way out of that, and Harvey had no happy memories from his childhood when it came to his dad. Instead, it was the man he’d just brought home from hospital who’d given him a reason to be happy again, who’d helped him be a normal kid while he still could.
The windscreen wipers of his pickup swished back and forth as fast as they could as Harvey pulled up outside Tumbleweed House. The exterior was covered with vigorous purple wisteria blooms that were hanging on before they’d fall again until next year. It had been a crazy few days since Barney’s fall, the stint in hospital a stark reminder of how fragile life could be, how important it was to treasure what you had before it was gone. He looked at the frontage of the home that had once been hellish, a house full of bad memories, but was now his solace. A good half-acre of land remained, much of which was taken up with elderberry bushes, and every year his mum would come over from her little cottage to help with the harvesting. He loved how her laughter mingled with his as they plucked the dark purple berries from the clusters that were ready. Most of the hard work had been done when the plants were established so there wasn’t much else to do now but maintain and enjoy them. Come late July and early August they’d pick and wash the perishable fruit before freezing and use it throughout the year. And having the elderberries was something Harvey never wanted to change. Too much had disappeared from his life already but, looking up at the house now, he knew some things had changed for the better. He no longer thought of the loft behind those roof tiles as the terrifying place where his dad had once made him go after he accidentally pulled down the curtain rod in the dining room; it was no longer the same top of the house where his brother Daniel had barricaded himself in to avoid the punishment he was going to get from their dad for being found drinking underage with his mates. When Harvey had hidden out up there on too many occasions, he’d covered his ears, rocked back and forth on the dusty boards that stopped him falling through the ceiling, as his dad ranted below, pacing up and down, heavy-footed as always and making the entire house shake, at least in Harvey’s imagination. The man had been furious his sons would go off and hide, but his rage was terrifying. Both Harvey and Daniel had regularly been torn between hiding out and going down to face the inevitable beating.
Coming Home to Heritage Cove Page 3