by Tania Crosse
‘Oh, Ralph, that’s really kind,’ Meg replied, genuinely grateful. ‘Let me see,’ she added eagerly, about to get out of the van again.
‘No, wait until we’re there. If you don’t approve, I’d have to think of something else, only I don’t know what.’
‘OK,’ Meg chuckled. ‘But I’m sure I’ll like it. And I know… my parents would’ve appreciated it.’
She waited while Ralph went to the back of the van, and then, getting in beside her, he turned the ignition key and pulled out the starter. The engine spluttered into life and they trundled round to the front of the house and down the long driveway.
‘Pity the sun’s not out,’ Ralph said, turning out into the lane. ‘The autumn colours would look even better in the sunshine.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. They’re still lovely. Autumn would be a wonderful time of year if it didn’t mean winter was on its way. And, of course, it has bad associations for me now.’
She noticed Ralph glance sideways at her. ‘We’ll have to try and change that. I mean, not forget. But try to remember the good things instead.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ Meg gave a wry grimace that couldn’t quite be called a smile. ‘But it’s good of you to take me to the graveyard. There’s no way to get there except on foot, and it’s just too far to walk there and back. I did it once, but it took ages and I was exhausted afterwards. And let’s face it, it’s not going to bring my parents back, is it?’
‘No, but I imagine it’ll make you feel closer to them. I can drive you there sometimes, you know. I’m sure Mrs C wouldn’t mind.’
This time, her smile was deeper, and they fell into an easy silence as Ralph drove through the country lanes. The trees were decked in their autumn mantle of gold and cinnamon, copper and bronze, and Meg let their glory wash over her.
‘Oh, are you going the scenic way or something?’ She suddenly sat up straight as she realised they weren’t taking the most direct route. ‘Why—’
Ralph sounded almost apologetic as he answered quietly, ‘I just thought you’d rather not go past… you know…’
‘Where the accident happened?’ Meg muttered as the horrific memories came rushing back at her. ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, but I can’t avoid the place forever.’
She saw Ralph lift an eyebrow but he didn’t reply, and they continued on without a word. The countryside flashed past in a blur as Meg stared out of the window, sinking into her own lost world. Her parents, the cart, the market that day. How happy they’d been.
When Ralph eventually drove into Meg’s home village, she felt her heart begin to beat harder. Nervously. A sort of churning deep inside. A desperate yearning for everything to be as it was just before her birthday a year ago. But knowing it never could. A futile, stupid hope.
Nothing had changed. The houses and cottages, the green with the huge oak tree. Meg felt it should have been different, then it would have made more sense. The fact that it was the same and yet her parents weren’t there anymore made it all seem so wrong.
Ralph pulled up at the church and, getting out of the van, went round to open the back. Meg sat for a few moments, gathering her broken emotions together. This had been her wish, but now she had to take a deep breath to strengthen her resolve. And then Ralph was there, opening the door and handing her the bouquet, and curiously she felt glad he was there.
She gasped. The flowers were more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. Pure white chrysanthemums mingled with creamy, highly scented lilies, all nestling in a bed of glossy greenery. Ralph hadn’t simply tied them in a bunch. He’d arranged them so that they fanned out in a glorious profusion of simplicity and fragrance. He was right. No professional florist could have done better.
‘Oh, Ralph, thank you,’ Meg breathed.
But Ralph merely shrugged. ‘Don’t thank me. Thank Mrs C. We’ve got plenty of chrysanths, but it was she who said I could take some lilies from the greenhouse. Seems she’s very fond of you.’
‘Oh, I do appreciate it. I’ll thank her as soon as we get back.’ Meg had to turn away to hide the moisture collecting in her eyes. She really didn’t want Ralph to see. Everyone had been so kind to her. However had she once thought she must hate everyone at Robin Hill House?
‘Will you be all right?’ Ralph asked, opening the lychgate for her. ‘Or would you like me…?’
‘No, no. I’ll be fine on my own, thank you.’
‘OK. I’ll wait here, then.’
Meg nodded, and then started walking along the gravel path. She suddenly felt very alone, and was glad to think Ralph was not so far away. Sadness came at her like an arrow as she drew closer to the double grave. It was so unreal. Her parents shouldn’t be lying together beneath the ground.
She bit her lip, gulping down her tears as she came up to the headstone that she’d had erected in the early summer. The first and only other time she’d seen it had been on a glorious, sunny day, but it hadn’t made the pain any less. Then as now, she’d stared at her parents’ names engraved on it. It was as if someone was playing a cruel game. But it was true. Thomas and Esther were both dead, killed on the same day.
Grass had grown over the bare earth and someone had trimmed it. Meg laid the beautiful bouquet on the ground and dropped onto her knees, choking on the ache that scratched at her throat until it felt raw. She swallowed hard. She hadn’t come all this way just to weep. She’d come to be near her parents, to communicate with them. There was no need to speak aloud. They’d be able to hear what was going on in her heart. She only had to form the words in her head, and they would know.
Mum, Dad, I’m sorry it’s been so long. But it’s really difficult to get here from where I’m living. There’s no need to worry about me, at all. The people I live with are all very nice. The gardener, Ralph, he drove me here today. My birthday, of course. You see I’m wearing the dress you were making, Mum. Anyway, Ralph did the flowers for you. Lovely, aren’t they?
Ralph’s taking me to the farm after this. Just for a quick look. There mightn’t be anyone in. I met the new tenants before I left. Nice people. I expect they’re looking after the farm well enough. I’m still farming myself in a small way. I look after the animals at the house. Pigs and some house cows. Oh, and hens, of course. And I’m the parlourmaid as well, so it all keeps me busy. But I like that. It… keeps my mind off things.
Meg paused in her thoughts. In some strange way, it did ease her heartache to talk to her parents, even if she knew they couldn’t really hear her. Never would. But she had something else to tell them, and grief welled up inside her again.
Something dreadful happened recently. Mercury ate something out in the woods. Some poisoned bait. We don’t know how or why. But… he died. We… we buried him in the rose garden. There’s a little plaque with his name.
Her chest tightened and she couldn’t fight anymore. She felt tears trickling down her cheeks, and she dropped forward, weeping over her knees. She prayed Ralph wouldn’t see, and come over. She needed to do this alone. To let her anguish be washed away by her sobs.
She took a deep breath, shuddering as she brushed the wetness from her face. This wasn’t the way. She had to show her parents she wasn’t giving in.
No one else knows this, not a living soul, she went on in her head. But I’m only biding my time. As soon as I’m old enough to take on a tenancy, I’m going to get my own farm. You always said I was born to be a farmer. And that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to put into practice everything you taught me. I’m going to make you proud of me. And I’ll be doing it for you, too.
Determination had crept into her silent voice, and somehow it gave her strength. She sniffed, quelling the pain that raked her throat. This was meant to be her birthday, and Ralph was waiting for her.
‘I’ll come again soon,’ she promised, this time in a tiny whisper, and blew a kiss into the ground. It was the best she could do, and she rose to her feet.
Ralph came towards her as she reached the lychgate. ‘All righ
t?’ he asked simply.
She nodded, but couldn’t manage a smile. Could he see that she’d been crying? If he could, she was grateful he didn’t comment on it.
‘On to the farm, then?’ he said as they got back into the van.
‘Please,’ she confirmed in a voice that was too small. But Ralph didn’t question her as he put the van into gear.
As they bumped up the track to the farm five minutes later, Meg felt as if she was swimming through a soup of excitement seasoned with anguish. Was this such a good idea? She still didn’t know, but she felt she was being driven by some power she had no control over.
Ralph parked by the closed gate, and Meg’s heart was pounding as she went through into the farmyard, Ralph shutting the gate behind them. Meg felt so strange. Nothing, but nothing, had changed. Would she have felt better if it had? The only thing was that there was a lorry parked in the yard, open-backed, and when Meg inspected it, she could see it had a folding ramp at the back. Something stuck in her throat. Did the new tenants have a tractor, too, just as she’d wanted? And if so, what had they done with Duchess?
Anger overtook her and she marched up to knock at the back door. But when it opened, her fury was dissipated by the surprise on the face of the woman who stood on the other side. Almost at once her mouth spread into a beaming smile.
‘Why, it’s young Miss Chandler, if I’m not mistaken!’ the kindly woman exclaimed in delight. ‘We met briefly, didn’t we? How lovely to see you. Come in, my dear. And your young man, too.’
‘Mrs Fenshaw.’ Meg found herself smiling back, and her misgivings melted away as she stepped inside. ‘This is Ralph. He’s just a friend. We work together at a big house.’
‘Ah, I often wondered what happened to you, you poor little soul.’ Maggie Fenshaw’s double chins wobbled in sympathy. ‘I said to my Alan, I wonder how that poor child is getting on. He’ll be in for his elevenses with our Paul, soon. Take a seat, both of you, and I’ll get the kettle going. And I’ve just made some biscuits. Be ready to come out in a jiffy. Now make yourselves at home, dears.’
Meg and Ralph exchanged glances as Mrs Fenshaw bustled around the kitchen, and Meg felt overcome by a sense of peace. Her eyes moved about the familiar room. Of course, there were some changes, different items on the shelves, different pictures on the walls and on the mantelshelf over the range. But all was essentially the same, cosy and friendly. Meg felt that the same care and warmth still pulsed through the walls of the old house.
When Alan Fenshaw came in, he appeared as pleased to see Meg as his wife. Their son, who Meg judged was probably just a couple of years older than herself, was just as welcoming, and soon they were all chatting away like old friends.
‘Oh, yes, we’re still using Duchess about the farm,’ Alan assured Meg. ‘I might get a tractor in the future, but for the time being, I prefer the old ways. A tractor’s no company, and we’ve got the lorry for going to market and so on.’
‘I’m so pleased you kept her.’ Meg felt oddly contented. ‘Mind you, I was trying to persuade my dad to invest in a tractor. But we’d never have parted with Duchess.’
‘You must go and see her before you go. She’s out in the back field at the moment.’
‘Thank you, I will. It’ll be lovely to see her again.’
‘Have a wander around. I think you know the way,’ Alan invited her with a wink. ‘But Paul and I have work to get on with, if you’ll excuse us. It’s been good to see you.’
‘And you don’t know what it’s meant to me,’ Meg thanked them, shaking Alan’s proffered hand.
‘She must come again whenever she pleases, mustn’t she, Alan?’ Mrs Fenshaw said as her husband and son went back outside. ‘And Ralph, too.’
‘Well, we mustn’t keep you.’ Ralph stood up from the table. ‘Thank you very much for the tea and biscuits. And for cheering Meg up. I’m sure it’s been good for her to see the farm being so well cared for.’
‘It certainly has. I feel much happier now,’ Meg agreed. ‘We’ll just say a quick hello to Duchess, and then we’ll be off.’
‘It’s been a delight,’ Maggie Fenshaw nodded, her face in a broad grin. ‘And please, do come again, any time.’
They took their leave of the homely farmer’s wife, and Meg led the way around the farmyard. All was just the same and clearly well maintained. Meg felt her heart expand with joy when they found Duchess in the field. The gentle giant recognised her straight away and trotted across to the gate, lifting her feet high in excitement. She nuzzled her big head against Meg’s shoulder just as she always used to. Meg’s throat squeezed with emotion as she clung around the mare’s neck, burying her face against the warm, hairy flesh. It was a fight, but she mustn’t cry. The farm was still here, and the Fenshaws’ open invitation was, she could tell, a genuine one.
‘Well, I guess we’ll have to find somewhere to have this picnic,’ Ralph said as they finally got back in the van.
‘Oh, goodness, I’m too full of homemade biscuit to eat just yet!’
‘Hmm, tell you what.’ Ralph glanced at her with a sudden jocular light in his eyes. ‘If you’re not hungry yet, d’you fancy going down to the coast? It’s about thirty miles or so. We could be there in not much more than an hour.’
Meg felt a light spark up inside her. ‘The coast?’ she repeated. ‘Well… I don’t know. I’ve never seen the sea.’
‘Really? Well, that settles it!’ Ralph grinned at her as the van bumped back down the rutted track. ‘Just sit back and enjoy the ride, milady.’
Meg heard herself laugh aloud. Perhaps Ralph wasn’t so bad, after all. And somehow, as they drove through the countryside, she didn’t feel any need to keep up a false conversation.
She knew she was quiet for a little while, mulling over the morning’s events. A bittersweet contentment had washed over her at seeing her old home in such good hands. She could picture her parents sitting at the table, smiling as they wished her a happy birthday. The familiar ache cut into her heart, and yet at the same time, she was invaded by a sense of peace. And it had been so good to see Duchess again. And when Ralph caught Meg’s eye and smiled, she felt strangely comforted and ready to enjoy the rest of the day.
The long drive was also a beautiful one, and Meg found her attention focusing more and more on her surroundings. And when the sea at last came into view, she simply couldn’t believe her eyes and gasped in delight.
‘Oh, crikey, it’s so… so vast!’ she exclaimed in wonder.
Ralph chuckled beside her as he drove down to the seafront and parked the van by the promenade. ‘What did you expect?’ he asked, shaking his head in amusement.
‘I don’t know really,’ Meg laughed back. ‘I’ve seen pictures, but… Oh, and look at the gardens. I bet they’re a picture in summer. Oh, come on, Ralph!’ And she jumped out of the van and ran over to gaze down the long expanse of beach. The tang of salt in the air wafted into her nostrils and she breathed it in deeply, closing her eyes and letting the breeze drift through her hair.
‘Wonderful, isn’t it?’ Ralph’s voice at her shoulder made her open her eyes again. ‘Here, put your coat on. Can’t have you catching a chill.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Meg breathed, starry-eyed as she pulled on her mother’s best coat. And then she ran down the steps onto the beach. Her feet slipped on the tiny pebbles as she hurried to the water’s edge, listening to the waves breaking onto the shore and then rushing back through the shingle with a sighing whoosh.
‘Don’t get your feet wet!’ Ralph called from behind her. ‘Some waves come up higher than others.’
Meg shrieked in delight as indeed the next wave chased her further back up the beach, and she grabbed Ralph’s arm to steady herself. ‘This is wonderful!’ she giggled, her face on fire with elation. ‘And my word, just look at those cliffs! They’re scary, they’re so tall!’
‘That’s Beachy Head. Amazing, isn’t it? You can walk up from here, but I don’t think we’ve got time.’
&nbs
p; ‘Another day, maybe,’ Meg grinned, but then she pulled herself up short. Did she really want Ralph thinking she wanted to spend another day with him in the future? Although to be honest, the idea didn’t really seem that bad. To cover up her own confusion, she went on quickly, ‘Shall we have the picnic now, and then walk along the beach? And look at those huge hotels. Oh, and the pier! There’s just so much…’
‘OK. Picnic first, then I’ll take you out on the pier. That can be my birthday treat to you. And some candyfloss.’
Meg couldn’t suppress her bubbling enjoyment. To think that she hadn’t wanted to celebrate her birthday at all, and yet now she was having the time of her life. There was so much to see and do, an invigorating stroll along the pier with the waves rolling beneath, the water all around and as far as the horizon, the pink, spun sugar tickling her nose as she bit into it. If she’d been drowning in misery on her last birthday, she’d made up for it on this. And really, it had all been down to Ralph.
As they drove home, she felt almost drunk on the experience, and found herself talking to Ralph nineteen to the dozen. If her opinion of him had been softening, it changed completely that day, and she was almost sorry when they arrived back at Robin Hill House.
‘As your last present, I’ll see to all the animals for you,’ Ralph announced. ‘I expect you’ll want time to tell everyone about your adventure.’
‘Oh, yes, I will, Ralph.’ Meg’s eyes were still shining as she turned to him. ‘Thank you so much. For everything.’
‘My pleasure. I’m just pleased you enjoyed it.’
Meg turned reluctantly towards the house, wishing for the first time that, although Ralph slept in the main house, he didn’t still essentially live with his parents in the gardener’s cottage. However, when she went inside, all such thoughts were put aside as she related what a wonderful day she’d had.
‘We went to the farm. You know, my old home,’ she began telling everyone. ‘The new tenants were really nice to us. And then Ralph took me to the seaside. Eastbourne. The sea’s incredible!’ she cried, still buoyant with jubilation.