by Claire Wong
“Everything all right?”
“I guess you heard all that?” Sean sounded tired.
“Not much. There owt I can do to help?”
“No. Unless you can answer impossible questions.” Realizing the voices were coming nearer, Kit looked around frantically for somewhere to hide. He did not want them to know he had been listening. There was a gap between the large armchair and the wall, where he might not be seen. He squeezed himself into the space and sat very still as Sean and Nick came into the room.
“This is about Askfeld’s future, right?”
“Yes. And I don’t know what to do. Say you’d sworn you’d never ask a certain person for help, but everyone was telling you it was the only way, would you do it?”
“Sounds like you already know what you have to do – you just don’t like the idea of it.”
Sean gave a hollow laugh. “That’s about right.”
“Just make the call. It might be the answer to all our problems.”
Kit heard a heavy sigh, followed by a long pause. He did not like the sound of this call that Sean was contemplating. Could it have something to do with the stranger he had given money to just now?
“Families can be hard work,” Nick continued, “but you need to do what’s best for you, and this place.”
“Hold on,” Sean said. A cupboard door creaked open, and something clinked like glass.
“The single malt? This really is hitting you hard.”
“I just need a drink before I can talk to him.”
A heavy bottle connected with the wood of the table. Kit didn’t know what single malt was, but it was a general rule that drinks he had not heard of before were alcoholic.
“None for me. I need a clear head in the kitchen.”
“Like hell am I drinking alone! If you’re going to talk me into this, you’re having one too. I’ve seen you ‘testing’ the cooking wine before now anyway, so don’t think I buy this disapproval either. Just be ready to hide the glasses if any guests come in.”
There was the sound of liquid being poured out, once, twice, and then the faint metal scrape of a cap being replaced. The two men sat in contemplative silence for a while. Kit became acutely conscious of his breathing, and tried to keep it shallow and quiet so he would not give away his location behind the armchair.
“Beth loved this place the minute we set foot in it. It was run down and riddled with mould then, but she knew we could turn it into something better. We spent months scrubbing down the walls and painting them, buying in furniture and ripping up the weeds in the garden. We’d only been married six months, and having our own bed and breakfast was a dream come true.
“It crept up so gradually, I didn’t realize at first there was anything wrong. The evening of our first anniversary, I remember watching her get ready to go out to dinner, and seeing how much pain she was in just trying to put her arms through the sleeves of her dress. She didn’t want to admit how hard she found something so simple.”
“Must have been a shock when she got ill.”
“The doctors couldn’t decide what it was. They’d try one diagnosis and then switch to another. And when something didn’t fit, they’d tell Beth it was all in her head. But they hadn’t seen what I had – how some days she physically couldn’t get out of bed. How she’d get exhausted and not be able to sleep because she was in too much pain. And when they finally gave us a name for what was wrong, they said they didn’t know how to treat it.”
“But you get prescriptions for her, don’t you? I’ve seen you taking bottles of pills to her.”
“Some of them help. Some don’t. Everything’s an experiment to see what works. And I know it breaks her heart not to be more involved in running this place.”
Kit was sure Sean was wrong about this. He would have noticed if Beth had been so sad about her illness. They had talked about it often enough.
“I remember when I first got here, how she used to burn herself out trying to keep working. She doesn’t seem to do that any more,” said Nick.
“You’re right. I think it was the pregnancy that changed how she saw things in the end. She couldn’t justify taking care of herself and not working alongside me, until someone else depended on her being healthy. This year I think she’s finally learned how to rest. I don’t mind the extra work when she’s so peaceful about her situation at last.”
“Yeah, but it’s also a weight for you, mate. Even with me here, you’re doing two people’s work, and looking after her.”
“And I can’t afford to hire someone else to work here, but I can’t keep on top of everything I need to do either.”
“Well, you know what you’ve got to do when that glass is empty.”
“Nick, you don’t understand –”
“Doesn’t matter. I still know you need to try. For the sake of Askfeld, if nothing else. This place is too important to you to let it fall apart now.”
The room fell quiet again, until a heavy tumbler thudded down onto the table.
“All right. Let’s get this out of the way.”
Two sets of chair legs scraped against the floor.
“I’m going outside,” said Sean. “I think I need to be alone for this call.”
Nick stayed behind and cleared away the empty glasses and the whisky bottle. Only after he had returned to the kitchen did Kit exhale loudly and crawl out from behind the armchair. Sean was about to do something terrible. He had to warn Beth. He ran to the window, where he could see Sean trudging over the gravel to a secluded spot, phone in hand. He had the duration of the phone call to tell Beth what he had overheard. After that it might be too late.
She was not in the office where the argument had taken place. Kit went next to Beth’s room. She was standing in the middle of the room with a furrowed brow.
“Beth!”
She jumped, and then gripped the back of the chair to steady herself. “Kit, you scared me.”
“Beth, I need to tell you something.”
“Not now. It’s not a good time. My mind’s got into a muddle. I was fine this morning – I did some work on the accounts. But now I keep getting halfway through doing things and forgetting what they were.”
Kit looked at the table behind her. There was a ham sandwich on a plate, next to a glass of water.
“I think maybe you were about to have lunch.”
Beth turned round slowly and saw the sandwich. “Oh yes, of course,” she murmured, then sat down to eat. Kit let her take a bite before continuing.
“I do have something important to warn you about though.”
She chewed the bread slowly. “Can’t it wait?”
“No. It’s about Sean.”
“What? Is he OK?”
“Yes, he’s fine. But I think he’s planning something. Something bad. He wants to get rid of you.”
Beth put the plate down and stared at him. “Kit, that’s a horrible thing to say. What on earth are you thinking?”
“He’s planning to get you out of Askfeld so he won’t have to look after you any more. He’s on the phone right now with someone who can help. I think maybe it’s the man he’s paid to take you away. I heard him and Nick talking ages ago about how they couldn’t carry on letting you stay here, that you were making things difficult. And just now Nick convinced him that if he didn’t, Askfeld would have to close down. I had to warn you, so we can stop him!” The words tumbled out with barely space for breath in between.
Beth was stony-faced throughout Kit’s explanation. Then she reached for her glass of water, but her hand shook and she overturned it by accident. The water spilled over her lap and down the side of the chair, but she did not jump up to fetch a tea towel, the way Kit’s mother would have. She sat there, letting it soak through all the layers of fabric.
“You think,” she said slowly and deliberately, as if each word cost her too much to waste a syllable, “Sean hates caring for me so much that he would – what? Send me away? Poison my meds? What exactly do yo
u imagine he would do?”
Kit had to admit he had not figured out all the details of Sean’s plan, only that it was being put into action as they spoke. To his horror, the door opened and Sean entered the room. He looked drained and weary.
“It’s done,” he said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
UNDER A WIDE AND SILENT SKY
I know it’s normal for heroes to fail at some point. Like when the superhero gets captured by the villain and has to listen to a long speech about his evil plans. But is it the same when ordinary people mess up? What if you can’t make things better by coming back to save the day?
“What did he say?” Beth reached out to take Sean’s hand in hers.
“He said yes. He wants to meet with me first, but he’ll do it.” Sean sighed and leaned against the back of Beth’s chair.
She rested her head back and closed her eyes. “Thank you. I know you must have hated asking him. Maybe it’s time you reconnected though – it’s been three years now.”
Kit stared from Sean to Beth, and back again. What was going on? Sean had spotted the upturned empty glass, and the water still dripping onto the carpet. Without asking how it happened, he picked up the tumbler and went to the kitchen to refill it and fetch a towel. When he had gone, Kit sat down on the stool by Beth’s feet. She folded her arms and looked at him expectantly. When it became clear she was not going to speak first, Kit asked the burning question.
“You knew who he was phoning?”
“Yes.”
“But I thought…” he began, hearing the sentence trail off as he found he couldn’t bring himself to say everything that he had suspected.
“You thought a lot of things, clearly. I guess I’m going to have to explain it to you, before you get any more ideas. Askfeld is struggling to make ends meet. Sean is overworked, and I can only help on days when my brain isn’t full of fog. We need another member of staff, and we need better advertising so more guests will stay here. But we don’t have the money. If we don’t act quickly, we’ll be bankrupt, and this place will close down.”
Beth had to be mistaken. Kit had seen large amounts of cash change hands less than an hour ago.
“But the man outside – Sean just gave him a load of money, and I thought –”
“You thought he was what? A hitman? Nothing so dramatic, I’m afraid, though still unpleasant. We owe one of our suppliers and they got tired of waiting for the payment, so they sent someone round to demand the money. Sean came straight to me and told me about it – that man was threatening to take our belongings if we didn’t pay up, so he panicked and gave him everything he had in his wallet towards the debt. That’s why we were arguing.”
“But then I heard him talking to Nick about how families make things difficult.”
“Yes. Sean and his dad don’t get on. That’s who they were talking about.”
“I thought they meant you and the baby. What’s Sean’s dad got to do with it?”
“He’s a rich man. Or at least, compared to us he is. I asked Sean to talk to him and ask him for a loan. But they haven’t spoken in years. Sean’s dad doesn’t think Sean has done enough with his life. He thinks he should have got a better job, a cleverer wife, an apartment in a big city. On our wedding day, he left early to show his disapproval and that’s always upset Sean. But I knew he still cared. I knew if Sean asked for help, he’d give it. But people – even good people – can be proud. We argued about it today because Sean didn’t want to ask for help from a man who turned his back on him, and who thinks so little of me.”
“But what about the other conversation I overheard?”
“What exactly did you hear?”
“Um, first Sean said, ‘She can’t stay here like this for ever,’ and then Nick said he could put something in the food.”
Beth thought about this for a moment and then nodded in understanding. “Maddie. They would have been talking about Maddie. And they didn’t mean it – they were… we were all just exhausted over how difficult she’s been at times. Sometimes she shouts at Sean for no good reason, and she can be very rude to the other guests. It doesn’t make our jobs any easier.”
“What’s this about Maddie Morley?” Sean had returned with a fresh glass of water and some paper towels. He mopped up the mess on the floor and the chair. Kit shrank back in fear of what would happen when Beth told him what they had been talking about.
“I’m just explaining to Kit that even though sometimes our guests can be difficult, it doesn’t mean we hatch elaborate plans to get rid of them.”
Kit’s eyes widened in momentary relief; Beth had decided not to tell Sean the accusations he had just made. Sean laughed. “Not if they’re paying for board! Do you want anything else to eat? You’ve hardly touched your sandwich. Let me see what else we have in the kitchen. I think Nick was making soup.”
Kit frowned. He had been certain that Sean was the enemy: everything had fit that theory so well. Yet Beth had an explanation for everything. It was less neat and clear-cut than Kit’s own version of things, but it did make sense.
“You know, Kit,” Beth said once Sean had left for the kitchen, “it seems to me that all this misunderstanding wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been eavesdropping on people. It’s a risky thing, to listen in and only hear half the story. Suppose I’d believed you?”
Kit thought about this. He had not planned what they would do next. He imagined he might have helped Beth escape Askfeld before Sean could do anything, perhaps bringing her to live at their house in Utterscar, where she could hide from danger. Maybe then he would have sneaked back into the guest house to gather more evidence until it was possible to call the police and arrest Sean. But it would have been a false charge after all. Kit pictured Sean languishing in prison while Beth raised her baby alone. Not alone, though: Kit was sure his family would have helped her. Still, it would not be the same as the child having its father. Kit knew that only too well; he missed his dad every day, but he had nearly inflicted the same thing on another person before they were even born.
“I’m sorry,” he said, unable to look straight at Beth, so he stared intently at his shoes instead. They had been brand new and gleaming white at Easter; now they were caked in sand and mud. “I didn’t think about that.”
“And that’s saying a lot from someone who thinks as much as you do.”
Was she laughing at him? Kit had to look up to see her expression. It was hard to read: her jaw was set firm but her eyes still seemed gentle. Either way, it was not mocking.
“I only wanted to help,” he explained. Those had been his mother’s instructions on their first day at Askfeld: to be grown up and helpful. It was trickier than expected.
“I know. I know you would never mean any harm. But if you keep trying to help people without understanding the whole story, you might end up making more trouble, for yourself and others.”
Like letting Bert think there was an albatross, only to see him be disappointed. He needed to be more careful to protect what was left of his quest at Askfeld, and there was something gnawing at him about that now.
“You know you said that man wanted to take away all your belongings if you didn’t pay him? He wouldn’t take the map, would he?” He would not be able to bear it if, after all that work, the cold-eyed stranger took away Beth’s map before she had a chance to show it to her child.
“I think he would go for things that look valuable first: electrical appliances, furniture, that kind of thing.”
Kit was only partly reassured. What could be more valuable than all those memories carefully painted into the promise of an adventurous childhood? If the stranger realized that, would he confiscate it to punish Beth and Sean for not paying their debts?
“Now then.” Beth sat up straight with a new burst of energy. “Pass me those paints. And the watercolour paper.”
Kit did as she asked, but wanted to know what she was planning to do. Askfeld was at risk and she meant to paint in response.
He found Juliet exactly where he had left her, a book open on her lap, chewing her nails and staring off into the distance. They walked home in silence. On the way, he wished, not for the first time, he could be a character from one of his books. Their worlds were straightforward, their quests clear. If someone could just point him towards a monster that needed slaying, he would find that so much easier than trying to understand the complicated lives of the people around him.
“Kit, there’s a parcel here for you!” his mother called up the following morning. “Did you give our new address to your friends from school?”
Kit clattered down the stairs to snatch the brown parcel from his mother before she had time to spot the Norfolk postmark. Hugging it against his chest, he ran back to his room and closed the door before tearing through the packaging.
The top letter was the only one actually addressed to Mr Christopher Fisher, so he opened that first. It read:
Dear Christopher
Thank you for writing to tell us about Miss Morley’s adventures. The children were all delighted to hear what an exciting time she has been having. We have been practising our letter-writing this term, so many of the boys and girls wanted to take the opportunity to send some messages to Miss Morley, as you suggested. Please tell her she is much missed by many of us here and that we wish her all the best in the ups and downs of life.