Nothing is Forever

by Grace Thompson

  ‘Hello, Ruth,’ the lady said. The smile deepened as she added, ‘I’m Lillian.’

  Chapter Ten

  The surprise at meeting Lillian must have shown on Ruth’s face, as both Lillian and Henry began to laugh. ‘I think Ruth was expecting someone younger,’ Lillian said. ‘Have you been teasing her, Henry?’

  ‘I didn’t expect someone so pretty,’ Ruth said, recovering. ‘I’ve been so busy clearing the house and all that entails we haven’t had much time to talk.’ She turned to glare at Henry but he had gone inside and she and Lillian followed.

  She was led into a room in which work had been completed. Henry’s mother wiped a few cups which had been wrapped in tea towels against the dust that was everywhere. She unpacked sandwiches and cake and said, succinctly, ‘Lunch.’ They found seats and ate, the two older women working happily together as food was offered and tea poured. Ruth could find little to say. All this was Henry’s and nothing to do with her, all she could do was ask questions and she didn’t feel able to do that.

  She had barely looked at the house when she and Henry had come months ago and now, as she was shown around she looked at every room with great interest, surprised at how large it was. ‘How did you think of such a grand idea?’ she asked Henry.

  ‘From you partly.’

  ‘Me? I’d never have thought of running a Country Walks Centre.’

  ‘The walks we enjoyed, the places we visited, the enjoyment of watching wild life and searching for rare flowers, made me think that perhaps others would enjoy them too. It grew from there, and when I saw this house and its extensive grounds I knew I’d found my dream.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me that at the time.’

  ‘The time wasn’t right,’ he reminded her.

  She watched as workmen dragged out a piece of lino, dust flying up as it shed cement and oddments of rubble. ‘It looks more like a nightmare than a dream at present,’ she said.

  The place was one large mess with work in progress in almost every room. Shelves and walls pulled down, and others added. An extension was being made to the kitchen, which had been rather small, and three of the bedrooms were being divided to make two where there had been one.

  Gradually, Henry explained what he was doing and after showing her the house, he led her to the barn, where work was almost completed. It was a large space and apart from one small dividing wall in a corner, planned for a kitchen and serving area, the room was to stay the same. The walls were lined with plywood and windows had been installed. ‘This,’ he told her proudly, ‘will be the dining-room when we have a full house and in the winter, we’ll be having barn dances and parties. What d’you think?’

  She made some comment about how well he had thought everything out, but couldn’t really tell him what she was thinking. The truth was she felt cheated somehow, left out, and she knew the reason had been her own insistence that her problems were paramount. She knew she had ignored the times he had tried to tell her about this, his dream, all this planning and organizing about which she had known nothing.

  He talked about the grounds and the safety plans so children could stay and they talked about the walks he was including, the arrangements already made with several local farmers, including several she knew.

  Lillian called them and they went back into the least messy room, where she and Henry’s mother had set out tea and biscuits. Rachel took out notebooks and swatches of material and the three women discussed colour schemes while Henry went to help with the work in the kitchen.

  ‘Surprised at my son’s change of direction?’ Rachel asked, as they spread out the sample squares of colours in an experimental fan.

  ‘I had no idea,’ Ruth said, then added, ‘I’ve been so busy, with the family and the house sale.’

  ‘Yes, dear, you’ve told us,’ Rachel said, with just a hint of disapproval in her gentle voice. When Lillian left, Ruth said she was ready to leave also. ‘I promised Aunty Blod we’d go to see Mali and Megan,’ she explained. It wasn’t the truth; she was feeling uncomfortable, an outsider, in the presence of Henry’s mother and his friend Lillian. They disapproved of her, and she felt she didn’t belong, she was an interloper in the new life on which Henry was embarking. Henry nodded, stopped what he was doing and prepared to drive her back to the flat.

  After taking Lillian home they drove back to where Aunty Blod was impatiently waiting to hear about the project. Before Henry left to return to the new place, he said, ‘I know you’re busy,’ which to Ruth sounded like a criticism, ‘but if you’d like you can come over and discuss what equipment we need for the kitchen, Mum and Lillian would be grateful for any suggestions.’

  ‘“Grateful” – if you only knew how I hate that word!’

  ‘Mum is marvellous, but I need some advice on the kitchen layout from someone who knows. Feeding all your family is good training for a project like this one.’

  The weeks before the first visitors arrived at the centre were very busy and despite her determination not to become involved, Ruth increased her visits until she was there every day, helping to clear up after the builders at first, and discussing with Rachel the arrangements of the rooms. Although a room had been offered to her, Ruth went back to Aunty Blod’s flat every day, either Henry or Rachel driving her.

  Although Henry’s mother was dealing with the furnishings, she was willing to listen to Ruth’s suggestions and ideas, and indeed encouraged her to take part when they discussed the way the place was set out.

  ‘It has to be comfortable but simple,’ Henry had told them. ‘Cleaning will have to be considered so there won’t be too many frills and fancies.’ Both Ruth and Rachel agreed and together they chose curtains and bed covers and rugs that would make the rooms look homely but with material that was not difficult to launder.

  ‘The kitchen is where we need your expertise,’ Rachel told her firmly. ‘I can’t think beyond white walls and yellow curtains! Henry wants to leave the planning of what goes where, and the best equipment to buy, to you.’

  Pleased to have been asked to contribute, she spent the next few days gathering information and prices of kitchen equipment and drawing a plan of how it should be set out. She tried not to imagine living there and sharing the dream with Henry. That was no longer a possibility; her involvement with her family had meant the project had happened at the wrong time, the opportunity was gone.

  Jack was surviving without a permanent place to sleep and without a job. He saw Abigail and Gloria often but he couldn’t stay with them as they had only two rooms in someone else’s house. He hadn’t tried for another job either. Word got around between business people and, as last time, it wouldn’t be long before someone passed on the warning that he was a thief.

  He was on the point of moving right away, to another town that might be the one he sought, but each time he made plans to leave something stopped him, usually lack of money. He saw Tabs one morning as she was on her way to the newsagents and he stepped out and without giving her the chance to move away, he held her and kissed her.

  ‘Tabs, love, I’ve missed you. You living with Mali and Megan there’s no chance to see you, talk to you and I’ve been so miserable.’

  ‘You want to know how I am?’ she asked with gentle sarcasm ‘Whether the baby is all right?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘We are both fine.’ There was an edge of disappointment in her voice. ‘Ruth comes with me when I go to the doctor or the clinic. She’s been wonderfully kind, considering how you persuaded me to let you into her house and search through her things.’

  ‘I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have involved you. You were so good to help me as you did.’ He lifted her arm to see her watch. ‘Any chance of coming to the café for a cup of tea? I’ve got two shillings and seven pence in the whole world and I want to spend it on you.’

  She smiled. ‘I’ll meet you at lunchtime when I finish at the newsagents and I’ll treat you to a hot meal; it sounds as though you need one.’
/>   He was waiting outside when she left and he kissed her on the cheek and led her to a café in a road off the main street and found them a table. The menu consisted of an assortment of choices all served with chips. She ordered a full plate for him and a snack for herself and sat watching as he ate hungrily.

  ‘I’m thinking of moving on,’ he told her, ‘but,’ he added quickly, reaching out to hold her hand, ‘I’ll keep in touch with you. It’s just that with the house being sold, and no chance of finding the Tyler family that I’m looking for, I want to go somewhere and find a decent job. I have to find a way of earning some money so I can look after you and our baby.’

  ‘I don’t want to be left on my own – couldn’t we marry? At least that would stop some of the wagging tongues.’

  ‘I don’t want our marriage to be a sordid affair, performed in secret, just so we can convince the small-minded that we’ve been married since last year.’

  ‘No one will believe that. Not now. But our son, or daughter would know they weren’t illegitimate,’ she whispered.

  ‘Please, can we wait? I know that if I can only find the money owing to me, we can do it all properly. That’s what I want for you.’

  ‘Where are you staying?’ she asked.

  ‘Nowhere at the moment,’ he said ‘I left the place I stayed until last night as it wasn’t very clean. Don’t worry about me. I’ll soon find somewhere that’s cheap and cheerful.’

  ‘With two shillings and seven pence?’

  ‘I lied,’ he said ruefully. ‘I have enough for a few nights but I daren’t spend it. You don’t want me sleeping in the fields, do you?’

  She left him to go back to the bungalow and he went to where he’d been promised a few hours work cleaning in the cellar and yard of a brewery. There were a couple of empty stables in the yard and if he was careful, he might be able to sleep there that night. It was warm up in the loft where the hay used to be stored.

  Tabs went home in a confused state of mind. She didn’t know if she would see Jack again and the future looked even more uncertain now he had made some more of his false promises.

  One by one, Ruth’s friends and family came to see what Henry was doing. Tabs came with Mali and Megan one Sunday morning and they had brought food in the hope the weather was kind enough for a picnic. The woods beyond the garden looked inviting. On their way to look around it, Mickie ran straight into the stream, but he was firmly held on his reins and Megan had prepared for it and dressed him in waterproofs and Wellingtons; he thought it great fun. The fence and a strong gate would be installed before the first visitors arrived, as day-visitors had been invited to bring children.

  ‘You’ve thought of everything,’ Megan told Henry.

  ‘Except where to find someone to run it,’ he said.

  The girls had come by car and the driver was sitting in the car waiting for them. ‘Who is he?’ Henry asked. ‘Why don’t you invite him in?’

  ‘Kenny,’ Mali told him. ‘He’s someone I know from the Saturday dances.’

  ‘He’s a musician,’ Megan added.

  ‘He plays with the dance band when he can and he drives buses,’ Mali told them.

  Kenny came in and was introduced. Mali looked happy and Kenny was attentive and it looked likely that the two would soon be more than friends. A glance at Megan’s face showed a frown and Ruth guessed she was wondering how she would manage to work and look after Mickie if her sister married. Yet that was something they must have discussed often.

  Abigail and her mother called and they brought a house sign they’d had made as a moving in present with the name of the establishment and, in smaller letters, Henry’s name as proprietor.

  ‘Visitors are fine,’ Rachel said with a sigh when everyone had gone, ‘but it slows down the work and there’s plenty of that here. When the work is finished there’s still the problem of finding a cook and housekeeper.’

  With a show of reluctance she didn’t really feel, Ruth agreed to take on the cooking. ‘Just until you find someone suitable,’ she told Henry. Then she wondered why she was being so stupid. Cooking for a crowd of people was something she enjoyed and adjusting to varying numbers wouldn’t worry her at all. Working beside Henry in this new career would have been perfect, if she hadn’t spoilt it all by her stubbornness. She watched as he walked down to check the measurements for the new gate at the stream, and felt a powerful burst of longing, wondering whether they would ever go back to the love they had once known.

  Tabs stopped outside the shop that had been Henry’s and looked at the window display. It wasn’t centred properly and looked lop-sided, and a display of Georgian silver wasn’t shown to best advantage. It needed to be higher, where it would catch the eye of passers by. The shop door opened and she backed away, but a voice called her and she turned to see the new owner, Peter James, beckoning to her.

  ‘Come in, Miss Bishop, if you have a moment.’

  ‘I was just going to the shops,’ she said, edging away.

  ‘Time for a brief chat, surely? I’d like to hear what you think of the way I’ve rearranged the shop.’ He took her arm gently and guided her inside.

  The counter had been moved back against the far wall, new lighting had been installed and the walls had been given a coat of bright yellow paint. Wall cupboards were also now lit, brightening the shop even more.

  ‘It’s wonderful,’ she told him, looking around and smiling with pleasure. ‘I can’t believe the difference. Henry will be very impressed, I’m sure. But be careful to keep the shop window locked,’ she said. ‘Now it’s unprotected by the counter and customers can walk up to it, it will be easier for someone to steal from it.’

  ‘Thank you for that, but I’ve put another lockable bolt at the bottom, can you see?’

  She smiled and looked around. ‘It looks more cheerful, and welcoming,’ she said.

  ‘If you’re looking for a job, would you consider coming back?’ he asked. ‘I need someone while I’m away at fairs and sales. What do you think?’

  ‘I was sacked.’

  ‘I know. But I don’t think you’d do anything so foolish again. So, what d’you think?’

  ‘I won’t be able to after the next few months,’ she said, stuttering in embarrassment.

  ‘I know about that, too. But you still have your expertise and we can worry about the later stages of your pregnancy when we come to them. So, will you think about it?’

  She didn’t need think about it; she desperately needed the money. ‘Start tomorrow,’ he said and didn’t ask for references or discuss wages. She was too relieved to be earning to argue, she would accept whatever he paid her.

  Strangely, it was Henry she wanted to talk to. There was no one else. Then she remembered that wasn’t true; she was no longer friendless, there were others who cared. Ruth for one, who remained her friend despite her past behaviour towards her: allowing Jack to search Ty Gwyn and, she suspected, steal from her. Mali and Megan were well aware of her problems and sensible in their attitude to life. Feeling less alone, she was feeling almost happy as she went home to tell them about Peter James’s offer.

  The first visitors to the Country Walks Centre came by various means. Four in cars, two on bicycles and two by bus and on foot from the nearby youth hostel.

  Rachel and a girl they had employed as a vague general help, showed them to their rooms and gathered them in the lounge where Henry gave an introductory talk. Ruth was panicking in the kitchen where she was setting out trays of tea and sandwiches, and preparing a supper of roast chicken and vegetables. On another table was a tray ready for an omelette and salad for the two vegetarians. ‘That’s all right for the first day,’ she had said in alarm when she had been told of their preferences. ‘But a whole week of vegetarian food? Help!’

  By the end of that first week she felt able to deal with anything. She told Rachel that the job no longer held fears for her. ‘It’s much the same as feeding my brothers. One doesn’t like this, another won’t eat that, bu
t it levels out. Is Henry pleased?’

  ‘With the cooking? Delighted.’

  ‘But?’ Ruth waited for the criticism that hovered.

  ‘We’ve spent too much money.’

  ‘I haven’t wasted much. and practically everything was eaten. What more does he expect?’

  ‘More economical meals, dear. If you feed them like kings, we’ll be paupers before the end of the season.’

  It took a while to convince her, but Ruth eventually listened to the advice of Rachel and Aunty Blod, who had worked as a cook for most of her working life, and a new menu was prepared.

  The breakfast plate held less of the more expensive food and was filled by the addition of a few fried potatoes, and triangles of fried bread. ‘They like a filling start to the day, these outdoor types,’ Rachel assured her, and the breakfasts were accepted with delight.

  Ruth went on a few of the walks with Henry, leaving Rachel dealing with the preparation of the evening meal and she listened with interest as he talked to the group. ‘Take note,’ he said. ‘You never know when I’ll need someone to help out.’ She shook her head.

  ‘Kitchen – that’s were I feel at home,’ she reminded him.

  Some of the walks were at night where they waited for the badgers to appear, on fortunate occasions standing silently and watching the beautiful creatures in awe, most never having seen one before.

  Ruth thought less and less about Ty Gwyn and the family, immersing herself in the new world of holidaymakers and the renewed joys of the surrounding countryside. The weeks passed and the summer drifted on.

  Blod had almost forgotten about the mysterious letters and was surprised to receive another after months had passed. This one was similar to the other two as it gave no indication of the reason the friend wanted to meet her. The only difference was the addition of a plea and telling her that time was short and he needed to see her with some urgency. Another date was given and this time, she showed it to Henry.