The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘You going to stand there all night?’ came Nick’s truculent voice from down the lane as he trudged towards the farm, carrying a hoe in one hand and in the other, the shotgun that, since the day of Maddie’s release from police custody, he had carried everywhere with him. He had even, she had discovered afterwards, taken it in the back of the truck hidden beneath a pile of sacks when they had visited the hospital in Wellandon.

  Maddie dragged her gaze away from the lovely view and turned to follow him, wondering how, on the one hand, there could be such peace and tranquillity and beauty whilst on the other, such tragedy and menace and ugliness were hanging over her

  ‘Nick? Nick, where are you?’

  Maddie stood in the middle of the yard. It was halfway through the Monday morning and still he had not left for the hospital. She had never thought that she would be anxious to see Harriet Trowbridge back home, but now she had a whole list of questions she needed to ask her. Whether she would be able to wheedle any answers out of the woman, was another matter, but Maddie was determined to try.

  She heard a movement in the big barn. Nick was there, sweeping the floor. ‘There you are. What time have you to go to the hospital to fetch your mother?’

  ‘This afternoon,’ Nick said, setting the brush against the wall and coming to stand in front of her. ‘And you’re to stay in the house while I’m gone. You hear?’

  ‘Look, Nick, I’m very grateful for all that you’ve done. All that you’re still doing, but stop ordering me about. There’s a lot of work to do and I mean to get on with it. If any of the lads from the village do come here – and I don’t think they will now – they’re hardly likely to harm me, are they?’

  ‘Oho, you don’t know what they’re capable of . . .’

  ‘Just what are they capable of, Nick? Tell me, because I’d really like to know.’

  They stood glaring at each other, but then the anger died in Nick’s face. He put his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Oh Maddie, we were meant to be together, you and me. I’ve always known it.’ His grip tightened and he pulled her towards him into his embrace. She put her palms flat against his chest and tried to push him away.

  ‘Nick, don’t . . .’

  ‘It ought to be just the two of us here, Maddie. Just you and me working side by side, with no one else to interfere.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Nick. Your mother’s coming home this afternoon. And Adam . . .’

  ‘She’ll have to come here for a while. I know that, but we can get rid of her – somehow. We can get rid of them both and then it will be just the two of us.’

  ‘No! What on earth are you saying?’ Maddie wrenched herself free and, standing back from him, stared into his face.

  There was a wild look in his eyes, a look of desperate longing for her. But it was not the look of love, but of obsession; a jealous, self-centred obsession that sought to oust everyone else from Maddie’s life.

  ‘Nick,’ she tried to keep her tone calm and placating, tried, desperately, to be understanding and kind. ‘There can’t be anything between us. You must know that . . .’

  Nick laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. Now, to Maddie’s ears there was only menace. He stepped towards her, his arms outstretched again, but she backed away.

  ‘Maddie, Maddie, don’t. I love you. I want to be with you always. Just the two of us. Don’t you realize how I feel about you? How I’ve always felt about you?’

  Maddie shook her head. ‘No, no, Nick. I’m very fond of you. But I don’t love you. And besides . . .’

  Nick’s features were contorted with rage. ‘It’s him, isn’t it? I’ll kill him if you . . .’

  ‘Who? Who are you talking about?’

  ‘Theo Mayfield.’

  Now Maddie gave a nervous laugh. The idea was so preposterous that even amidst the drama of the moment, she could see the funny side. ‘Don’t be stupid, Nick. Mr Theo would never look at me.’

  ‘Oh, but he does. He does look at you – that way.’

  She stared at him, suddenly remembering all the occasions when Theo had smiled at her, touched her hand, paid her compliments and, yes, she had to admit it now, there had been more in his eyes that ordinary friendliness.

  She swallowed and tried to laugh it off, but even to her own ears her laughter sounded hollow. ‘Don’t be silly. There’s only one person I’ve ever really loved and he left me, didn’t he?’

  Nick’s eyes narrowed and there was a devious look in them. ‘You think so, eh?’

  ‘What – what do you mean?’

  ‘Nothing. He’s gone and good riddance. And Theo Mayfield? Well, you’re not the sort of girl he’d marry, are you? Oh, a quick tumble in the hay. Get you pregnant, yes. But his sort wouldn’t marry you.’

  How could he profess to love her and yet say such cruel things? Maddie thought. He doesn’t even know what love is.

  That’s it, she thought with sudden, blinding clarity. That’s it. Nick has never known what it is to be truly loved. Not by anyone. Not even by his own mother.

  He was speaking again, dragging her back to the moment. ‘But I’ll marry you, Maddie. I’ve always wanted you . . .’

  ‘Nick, please, you must listen. We can’t – your mother . . .’

  ‘Forget my mother, I’ve told you . . .’

  ‘No, no, listen to me. You don’t understand. The other day in the hospital, when she called me back. It – it wasn’t what I told you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She – she told me something. Something about us. You and me.’

  ‘Oh, I know she doesn’t want us to . . .’

  ‘It’s not just that,’ Maddie interrupted him. ‘She has a reason. A very good reason, if what she said is true.’

  There was silence in the huge barn now, only the sound of the rafters creaking and the breeze straying in through the open door to rustle a stray piece of raffia on the concrete floor.

  Slowly Nick said, ‘What did she say?’

  ‘That I am the daughter of your father and – and Amelia Mayfield. That you and I are half-brother and sister.’

  The silence in the barn lengthened and deepened as they stared at each other.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Nick said hoarsely at last. ‘It’s another of her lies to stop us . . .’

  At that moment there was the sound of a car pulling into the yard. Thankfully, Maddie turned and, before he could put out a hand to restrain her, she ran to the doorway.

  Relief was in her voice as she said, ‘It’s Steven’s car.’

  She could see him behind the wheel and beside him, Jenny. Already, Adam was clambering out of the back and running towards her. ‘Mam, Mam. This gentleman’s come to see you. He says he knows you.’

  Then Maddie saw the tall, dark-haired man unfolding himself from the back seat of the car.

  The whole earth seemed to spin around her. Her vision blurred and her legs were suddenly weak. As if from a great distance, she heard a voice speak his name and realized it was her own. She stood staring at him, drinking in the sight of him. He had changed little in the eleven years since she had seen him. If anything, he was even more good-looking. His shoulders were broader, his skin tanned and healthy. There were a few lines around his eyes and tiny flecks of white at his temples, but there was a change. She could see it now as he came closer. It was in his eyes, those dark brown eyes that once had been full of laughter. Now, there was a sadness in their depths.

  She wanted to run to him, to pummel his chest and cry out to him, ‘Why? Why, did you leave me? Why did you never come back?’ and then to clutch him to her, winding her arms around him and holding him so close that he could never go away again. But she could not move a muscle. She stood rooted to the spot staring at him and saying again just the one word.

  ‘Michael!’

  Fifty-Three

  He was standing before her now, looking down into her upturned face, taking her hands into his. And his touch still had the long-forgotte
n magic. She wanted, oh how she wanted to hate him, to scream at him and call him all the vile names she could think of and yet here she was trembling at the sight of him, the love surging through her once more at the feel of him. She was aware of no one else in the world at this moment, not her son standing beside her looking up from one to the other, watching them, a broad smile on his face. Not Steven and Jenny standing beside the car, their arms around each other. She had even forgotten Nick, behind them somewhere in the barn. At this moment there was only Michael and Maddie in the whole world.

  ‘Michael, oh Michael.’ She said his name over and over again, breathing it, savouring it, revelling in the sound and shape of the word that she had refused for so long to let pass her lips.

  ‘Maddie.’ He whispered and the word was a loving caress. She looked into his eyes and still, even after all this time, she could see the love in them for her shining out.

  And now she said it, voiced the question that had been a searing wound in her heart for almost eleven years. ‘Why, Michael? Why?’

  ‘I could ask you the same question, Maddie?’

  ‘Me? Why me? I wasn’t the one who went away and never came back. I wasn’t the one who deserted you.’

  ‘Deserted you?’ The shock on his face was genuine. ‘I never deserted you. It was you who said you never wanted to see me again, that you were marrying someone else.’

  ‘Who told you that? Who . . .?’ And then she stopped short and whispered the name at the same instant that Michael said, ‘Nick.’

  As realization began to trickle through her mind, she said flatly, ‘Nick came back from visiting you to say that you no longer loved me. That you were joining the Army and never coming home again.’

  Michael’s face was grim. ‘I think Nicholas Trowbridge has some explaining to do. Where is he?’

  ‘Right here.’ His voice came out of the shadows at the back of the barn.

  They moved towards him, Maddie, already with the anger growing inside her, and Michael, still holding her hand. Adam, puzzlement in his face, followed them.

  The three of them were already in the middle of the barn when Nick emerged from the shadows and they saw that he was holding the shotgun levelled towards them.

  Maddie gasped and at once grasped Adam’s shoulder and pushed him behind her. At the same moment she felt Michael’s hand tighten on hers and he, too, gave a brief glance behind him to make sure that the boy was protected by them both.

  ‘Take it easy, love,’ he murmured to Maddie. ‘Leave it to me.’

  ‘Get away from her,’ Nick said and when Michael made no move to leave Maddie’s side, they both heard the click as the hammer was pulled back and the gun cocked. ‘I said, get away from her.’

  Still pointing the gun at them, Nick moved around them so that he was a little nearer the door, cutting off any escape route.

  ‘Move!’

  Maddie gave Michael’s hand a quick squeeze. ‘You’d better do as he says. I don’t think the gun’s loaded, but . . .’

  ‘Oh, it’s loaded, Maddie. It has been all the time. I was ready for anything. The police or the villagers. Anybody. No one is going to take you away from me again. You hear? No one.’

  ‘Nick,’ she tried to keep her voice calm and level. ‘Put the gun down. Let’s talk about this. Please.’

  ‘Get away from her.’

  Michael sighed and, reluctantly, moved a short distance from Maddie and Adam.

  ‘Over there, right away from her.’

  Michael backed towards the side of the barn, his gaze fixed upon Nick as the barrel of the shotgun followed him, pointing at his chest.

  ‘You shouldn’t have come back, Michael. You’ve spoilt everything. Now I’m going to have to kill you.’

  ‘No, please. Don’t shoot.’ Trembling, Maddie stretched out her hand towards Nick. The barrel swung and pointed at her now. ‘Please,’ she whispered, begging as she had never begged in her life. ‘Please, at least let Adam go?’

  ‘Why should I?’ His tone was harsh and cruel, so different from the voice she knew so well. Or thought she had known. ‘If it weren’t for him and . . .’ The barrel of the shotgun wavered slightly and then swung sharply away from pointing at Maddie and the boy towards Michael, standing so still and silent in the shadows. ‘You!’

  There was such venom in his voice, a bitter hatred that had been festering for eleven long years.

  Behind him, a shadow appeared in the barn doorway. A woman’s shadow.

  ‘Maddie?’ came Jenny’s voice. ‘What’s going on? Are you all right?’ Maddie’s eyes widened and she gave a little gasp of fear. Then she touched Adam on his shoulder, giving him a tiny push. ‘Go,’ she breathed. ‘Go to her.’

  She saw him glance at the two men, who seemed, now, only aware of each other.

  ‘Go on,’ she urged.

  Adam took a step, his gaze still on the men. Then he ran. The barrel swung again, following the small figure hurtling towards the open door and Jenny.

  As she saw Nick’s finger move towards the trigger, Maddie lunged forward, her hand outstretched to push the barrel aside and spoil his aim.

  ‘No!’ Maddie cried but the deafening blast drowned her scream. Lead shot splattered against the wall of the barn and in the doorway Jenny fell, sprawling in the dirt.

  Heedless of the danger now, Maddie flung herself forwards. ‘Jen, oh no. Jenny!’

  She was only vaguely aware of Nick running past her out of the barn, of Steven running towards them and, as Nick passed him, Steven lunging at him, trying to grab him. But Nick pushed him away. She heard Michael’s voice, close by her, shout, ‘Let him go. He’s dropped the gun.’

  Then Steven was running forwards. ‘Is she hurt? What about Adam?’

  ‘I’m okay,’ the boy said quickly and then the four of them were now bending over Jenny, afraid to touch her and yet . . . Gently, Steven cradled her in his arms. They saw the blood oozing through her dress near her thigh. Her face was deathly pale and her eyes closed.

  ‘Where do you think Nick’s gone?’

  Maddie was the first to ask the question two hours later when the four of them, Michael, Adam, Steven and herself had returned to the farm. Adam had escaped unscathed and Jenny’s injuries were far less than they might have been.

  ‘You saved Adam’s life,’ Michael told her huskily, ‘and probably Jenny’s too. If they’d caught the full blast of that shotgun . . .’

  They had taken Jenny to the casualty department and had been reassured that she would recover quickly once the pellets had been removed from her leg and her hand.

  ‘I really don’t know,’ Michael said now in answer to her question. ‘And at this moment I don’t care where he is. You and me, Maddie . . .’ He took her hands. ‘Have got a lot of talking to do. But first . . .’ he turned and smiled at Adam and his voice was hoarse as he added, ‘I want you to introduce me to my son.’

  Maddie saw Adam’s eyes widen and his mouth dropped open as he glanced from Michael to her and then back again.

  ‘My dad. You’re – you’re my dad?’ There was no mistaking the excitement and the joy in the boy’s voice and all Michael and Maddie could do was to nod in unison for neither, at that moment, could speak.

  Adam was grinning as he turned to Steven and said, ‘Hey, Uncle Steve. This is my dad.’

  ‘Yes, old son, I know.’

  Maddie cleared her throat and said, ‘I thought perhaps you’d told him.’

  Steven shook his head. ‘I daren’t,’ he said, comically. ‘Jen threatened me with all sorts of dire punishments if I spoiled the moment for the three of you. And,’ he added, glancing at each of them in turn, ‘I see that she was right. But now,’ he added as he put his hand on Adam’s shoulder, ‘let’s leave your mam and your dad to themselves for a bit, eh? And we know Jen’s in good hands, so – what shall we do? Go fishing?’

  Adam glanced at both Maddie and Michael, reluctant for a moment to leave, but then he smiled as he looked up at Steven and
shook his head. ‘I’d like to, but there’s a lot of tulips need knobbing if we’re to get a good crop of bulbs this year and build a float in time for the Parade.’

  The adults glanced at one another and Steven winked at the other two as he said, ‘Right you are, then. Lead the way . . .’

  Michael watched them go, the man and the boy crossing the yard side by side. There was a catch in his voice as he said, ‘Oh Maddie. My son. After all this time, I’ve found my son.’

  He turned then and opened his arms to her and she went into them as if the years between had never happened.

  Fifty-Four

  Much later, Michael said, ‘Now, we must talk.’ They sat together, squeezed into the armchair at the side of the fire that had always been Frank’s. ‘Incidentally . . .’ He patted the arm of the battered old chair fondly. ‘Where’s Dad?’

  Stricken, Maddie stared at him. ‘You mean, you don’t know?’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘Oh Michael.’ Tears sprang to her eyes. Tears for Frank, tears for Michael and even for herself. ‘He – he was taken ill ten years ago. Adam was about five months old . . .’

  Realization was clouding Michael’s face. ‘You mean, he’s dead?’

  Haltingly, she told him about his father and they sat together in silence for several moments. She laid her cheek against Michael’s hair, feeling his inner struggle to come to terms with the dreadful news. His father had been dead for ten years and he had not even known.

  ‘Didn’t you get Nick’s letter?’ she asked gently at last.

  Michael shook his head.

  ‘But Nick came to see you when he was very ill. To ask you to come home to see him.’

  Michael’s voice was hoarse as he said, ‘No, he didn’t. He only ever came to see me once. To tell me . . .’ He reached up and traced the line of her face with a gentle finger. ‘To tell me that you never wanted to see me again and that you were going to marry someone else for the sake of the baby. Until this morning, I didn’t even know I had a son and I still don’t know who – who your husband is. Is it Nick? Are you married to him?’