Sharon blurted hastily: 'There is a maple in the middle of Farmer Ludlam's big meadow. In October it's splendid.'
'I've seen them in their thousands and glorious beyond compare,' said Jennifer. 'When we went north to Sudbury in the fall, we travelled through miles and miles of forest - scarlet and amber and gold. We climbed up a fire-tower so Marty could take pictures. It's exactly like climbing an electric pylon: a dreadful steel ladder and the wind at you from all sides.' Terror came into her eyes. She glanced up at the abbey tower and began to tremble. 'Take me home!'
Later, when they were alone together, she told Sharon she would like to have a Canadian maple planted in the abbey grounds.
'It would give Marty comfort. And I made out a cheque for the restoration fund. Will you pass it on to Canon Wismer for me ?'
Sharon gasped when she saw the amount. 'I can't let you!'
'Try stopping me! When an impulse takes me, I'm as stubborn as a mule.' That stricken look came into her eyes again and Sharon said no more.
Jennifer wrote from the hospital: 'They're pleased with my progress and the physiotherapist is giving me hell! I'll be stuck with my pot leg for another three months, but thank goodness I'll be mobile. The plastic surgeon is making me a new nose. It won't be the one I was born with, but he promises me it will be a fashionable shape. Beauty at last, think of that! By the way, I'll have a big surprise for you when we meet again.'
Was it just her face? Or did the big surprise concern her future? Her future with Neil…
After the dedication of the chancel carpet towards the end of the month, Sharon and Adam took a picnic up the fells. On the tops, with a grouse whirring, the hum of bees in the heather and the sad, lonely cry of the sheep, Adam turned to her. She was wearing his pretty blue ring on her right hand and he took it in his awkward one.
'Isn't it time this was on the left hand? Or shall we swop it for a wedding ring right away? There have been these beastly delays, but the business is going through and I'll soon be rid of the works. Once things are signed and sealed and the money in the bank, we can leave Roxley and live just where we like. London, I suppose, with a honeymoon in Rome or Paris before we settle down.'
'Adam, I can't.'
'Leave Roxley? Of course there are things we shall both miss. But if we don't take our freedom now, we never shall!' He looked at her sharply. 'You're thinking of Tony?'
Sharon shook her head. Through a dreadful tightness in her throat, she said: 'There's always Tony, but it would be dishonest to make him the excuse.' She knelt up quickly, pulling her hand free. 'Adam, I just can't. I've been so wretched, trying to find the courage to tell you this. I've changed, that's the trouble. I don't love you in the right way to make a go of it for a lifetime. Please, please try to understand! I'd be giving you second-best, and that isn't good enough for someone I care about so much.'
'Second-best', echoed Adam in a hollow tone. 'Sharon, what are you trying to tell me?' His eyes held sheer unbelief. 'All our lives we've known we wanted to be together some day.'
'You make it sound as if we're in our dotage!' She tried to laugh. 'But we're young. Young enough to get over it and love again and be happy.'
'No, no!' He rolled on the grass in misery.
'I've been a coward. I should have told you months ago. But just then, at the time of your uncle's death, it would have been too cruel.'
'You've known for a while.' He sat up, distractedly tugging out handfuls of the tough heather. 'What made you change?'
'Quite simply, I've grown up.' And what a painful process that had been! 'I hate myself for doing this to you.'
'It's not your fault.' She could still do no wrong in his eyes. 'I blame myself for taking things too much for granted.' All of a sudden, he felt old and wise and sick at heart. 'What's to become of me now?'
'You'll get that horrible wire works off your shoulders. And you'll take up your music studies, plunge into that wonderful world. And it will hardly matter that as a living music is so precarious!'
'But without you. And leaving all this,' said Adam. With his new, wise eyes he gazed down upon the valley and felt a pang of intolerable longing for the youth he had stepped out of, as moth from chrysalis or the little grass snake, sunning itself over there on a rock, from its old skin.
For the first few days life seemed achingly empty to them both. But Adam's duties at the abbey while Mr. Longford was away on holiday, not to mention conferences with the solicitor and the reorganization already under way at the works, kept him stretched to the utmost. And Sharon had undertaken a piece of work which took up every minute of her spare time.
The proprietor of the Raven had commissioned her to make new hangings for the four poster bed which was such an attraction to his guests. The original curtains were falling to pieces with age and it was a most exacting task to match up the wools and faithfully copy the stitches in the design of fantastic birds and beasts among foliage which might have grown in the Garden of Eden! As she worked, her thoughts often turned to Maud Hallsworth's greenhouse; and slowly, detail by detail, a carpet pattern began to take shape in her sketchbook under the inspiration of the antique bed- hangings.
At this delicate stage, the sketchbook was for her own eyes alone; but the bed-hangings were a wonderful surprise to show Jennifer on her return. And it was time for Jennifer to spring her surprise, too.
'I'm going back to Canada.' As Sharon looked absolutely dumbfounded, she insisted: 'It's a wonderful country and I love many things about it. After the first strangeness, the people were boundlessly kind. Yes, kind and modest and somehow uncomplicated. I wouldn't want you to think Marty was typical.' She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. 'I sure picked the big apple!' She hurried on: 'Aunt Ada is a pet. She's lonely, she needs me. I feel I have roots over there because of her.'
"You're serious!' exclaimed Sharon.
'Of course I'm serious. When I'm quite fit I shall go back to teaching. Science always was an adventure, never more so than now. Sharon, if you could see the laboratory equipment in their schools! I shall feel almost ashamed, remembering Roxley Institute!'
'But it's out of the question,' blurted Sharon. 'I mean… there's Neil. He's been so faithful: travelling up north to the hospital, coming to see you here every day for all those weeks, showing in so many ways that… that he…
Jennifer was looking at her fixedly. 'It's you he comes to see. You must be blind if you don't know how deeply he loves you.'
'No. Oh, no!' whispered Sharon.
'If there had been any doubt in my mind, I'd have known the truth at that concert in the abbey. You were sitting with me and he was a little behind us. You were listening entranced to the string quartet playing Schubert and Neil was watching you with all his heart in his eyes. And afterwards… "Sweet as the rose of Sharon, white and slender as the silver birch". Remember?'
Tingling scarlet, Sharon said: 'He was making fun of me. We started out as enemies and there are still a hundred things about me that he disapproves of.'
'But he loves you,' said Jennifer.
Pale now, and not looking into her friend's face, Sharon said: 'I have reason to believe otherwise. He cares for you as he always did.'
'No. I don't mind telling you I'd give heaven and earth for that to be true, but it isn't.' Her face broke up. 'When Marty and I came to Roxley - and I'm sure you've guessed that I wangled it because I desperately wanted to see Neil once again, perhaps for the last time in my life - I wasn't expecting to bump into him, just like that, in the car park at the Raven. It shook us both. There seemed to be something inevitable about it. And later that night, when Marty had gone up to try out the famous four poster' - she glanced in a strange, sad way at Sharon's bed-hangings - 'we had a little moment together. Sharon, I have to tell you this. Neil took me in his arms and for me it was heaven. But for him…' Her hands went up to her face. 'It just wouldn't do. All the magic was gone. He had changed - and to him I was a different woman. I knew instantly, we both knew, the very moment
he kissed me, that whatever had been between us was lost for ever. I'm not guessing. We had all this out a while ago.' Again the half-smile flickered. 'We settled for friendship.' She reached across and took Sharon's hand. 'Now do you believe me?'
But how could one suddenly believe such a tremendous, such an earth-shattering thing?
Not a wink of sleep came to Sharon's eyes that night. And it was in the early dawn, prowling about her room, that she drew the curtains to look out and saw Roxley Institute blazing upon its hilltop like a beacon in the days when the Danes came.
The fire ousted world news from the front page of the Gazette next evening. It was, Mr. Topliss reported, 'the largest conflagration of its size ever seen in the district.' But the ruins, Sharon thought, even if they were left mouldering there on the hill for a thousand years, would never achieve the nobility of one broken wall of the abbey! The cause was a mystery and the valley hummed with rumours. They discussed it for hours at the cottage when Neil came, late in the day, beaten into the ground with tiredness, his clothes filthy and his hands swathed in burn dressings.
He, too, had been sleepless. He saw the Institute suddenly go up like a torch, gave the alarm, jumped into his car, and was on the scene before the fire brigade.
'Raikes has one of these summer colds, poor chap. He went to bed with a hot toddy and slept through the whole schemozzle.'
When Neil unlocked the door of his private office — and he could testify that it was locked, though a window opened in the heat of the afternoon had been left insecure when Raikes did his round - a sheet of flame met him. The extension buildings, mainly wooden huts, were already well alight. The police thought the fire had started in the office and the wind had blown sparks on to the roof of the joinery hut, where practically everything but the chisels was inflammable, and from there it advanced by great leaps to engulf the whole. Neil had made a valiant effort to rescue his confidential papers, but all he had to show for the exploit was scorched eyebrows and a pair of badly burned hands.
'Students' files, correspondence from County Hall about my report, the sets of examination papers and tape recordings - all gone up in smoke,' he said heavily.
'Betty will give three cheers,' said Sharon. 'She told me she'd like to burn the lot!' Jennifer gave a little gasp and the three looked at one another in a startled way. 'But that doesn't mean she'd dream of doing it,' said Sharon emphatically. She gave a nervous laugh. 'You haven't given her the sack, by any chance?'
'It has been in my mind,' said Neil. 'Lord, the typing errors! She's been absentminded and moody, but I thought that was because her steady date took another girl ten-pin bowling!'
'So she's walking round in a maze,' said Sharon defensively. 'But she didn't go and make a bonfire of your papers, that's for sure! You're her hero! You might as well suspect Amelia Frith who has often said she'd like to burn the place down.'
'Has she indeed!' said Neil grimly.
Sharon flushed. 'It was when she thought you meant to close her class. And of course, it has happened, but it wasn't your fault! And it wasn't a life and death matter to her, as it was to poor Mr. Smart. I'm afraid it was an awful blow to him when he lost the evening class. You see, the spate of work he had at Christmas dropped to a mere trickle, and…' She stopped dead.
'Poor old Smart?' said Neil. 'Never! I've wondered if it could be a student prank that got out of hand? No again. They don't bear me a grudge for my straight hitting when we had that little set-to.'
But there was someone who bore Neil Haslam a grudge. The same thought occurred to both of them. Neil shook his head. 'No. It would be monstrous.'
Sharon said slowly: 'You may be sure he kept a key of the private office when he retired. He couldn't bear being out of things. He might have been going through your papers and dropped a cigarette end in the waste paper basket. Such things have happened.'
'I phoned him during the day,' Neil said. 'I was rather surprised that he hadn't come fussing round. Just his cup of tea, one would have thought! Mrs. Cragill answered the phone. She said her husband was in bed. Not seriously ill - just indisposed.'
Sharon looked at him, wide-eyed. 'But if it was just an accident ? I can't believe anyone would do this horrible thing deliberately. When you've worked so tremendously hard to put the Institute on its feet.' Her voice went unsteady. 'I just can't bear it!'
Jennifer struggled to her feet. 'My turn to make coffee.' She bumped off on her pot leg and firmly shut the kitchen door.
Neil made a movement with his bandaged hands. 'Come here!' And when Sharon timidly approached and stood in front of him, he said roughly: 'Don't take it so hard, girl. I don't want sympathy - yours or anyone else's. I will not endure that you should grieve on my account.'
'How can I help it?' whispered Sharon. 'When you… When I…'
'Sharon… Oh, God, what's the use?' He turned from her with a groan. 'I've failed utterly. Whoever did this thing to me made a thorough job of it. I'm finished. Do you understand? No such place as Roxley Institute exists. I should have sent in that letter of resignation long ago. Then at least I'd have had my pride. As it is, I have nothing.'
Sharon covered her face with her hands. She heard the door open and shut behind him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
'Misfortunes never come singly,' said Amelia Frith in a voice charged with drama.
On Saturdays she often called round at the cottage because she missed their usual morning walk; but Sharon was astonished to see her before they had even cleared away the breakfast things, and obviously a-quiver with excitement.
'Aren't they supposed to come in threes?' said Jennifer.
'Oh, two are quite sufficient, dear Mrs. Hyde! This disastrous fire - and Mr. Cragill's trouble.'
Sharon became sharply attentive. 'He's had an accident?'
'A visitation,' said Miss Frith solemnly. 'An army of little yellow and black caterpillars has stripped his gooseberry bushes to mere skeletons. And as if this wasn't enough, the slugs worked havoc overnight with his strawberries and lettuces. And then he suddenly found black fly on the beans. All this, would you believe it, with the Summer Show only three weeks off! The shock caused a violent rash and tummy upset and he's been confined to bed for two days. I had it from Doctor Eastwood when he came to see Gladys yesterday.'
'Two days in bed would seem to let Mr. Cragill out, don't you think?' said Jennifer, giving Sharon a meaningful look.
And it left them stuck with a mystery to which such a neat, logical solution had been found!
Miss Frith coughed. 'We had another visitor yesterday evening - and quite late. Mr. Smart.'
Sharon looked at her hard. 'What had Mr. Smart to tell you?'
'Oh, Sharon dear, a terrible thing! Considering the state he's in, it would be a kindness if Mr. Haslam would go and see him before he gives himself up to the police.'
Sharon and Jennifer exchanged a horrified glance. Then Sharon stood up and began untying her apron. 'Very well. I'll slip down to the Raven and give him your message.' It would be hard to face Neil after all he had said and left unsaid last night; but this was a crisis that put their personal situation completely in the shade.
She found him in the hotel lounge conferring with an official from the architect's department at County Hall and a detective employed by the insurance company. As she stood hesitating, he came quickly across to her. He looked ravaged with care. There were new lines on his face and, hampered by his bandaged hands, he had cut himself shaving.
'Well, we've solved our mystery,' he greeted her heavily. 'It seems the experts are rarely in doubt about where a fire started. It wasn't in my office, as we thought at first. No lighted match dropped in the waste paper basket! This was a pile of wood shavings soaked in varnish under a work bench. In the joinery hut.'
'I know,' said Sharon.
But she didn't know it all until later that day when Neil came to the cottage and put them in the picture, after hours spent in harassing official inquiries with poor old Smart at the cent
re of it all.
'He took advantage of the fact that no evening classes are being held during this summer term. He'd been helping out his students with various jobs they were doing, accepting a small commission for letting them use his workshop. But it's only a lean-to: scarcely room for a couple of chaps working, let alone half a dozen! Besides, they lacked tools. So they migrated up the hill to the joinery hut. In effect, the class was still meeting!' In spite of himself, he had to grin ruefully. 'A resourceful chap, old Smart! They cleared out before Raikes did his round. It was as regular as clockwork. But on the night of the fire, you remember, Raikes was off colour. He made his round of the premises uncommonly early, being anxious for hot toddy and bed, and his approach was announced by loud sneezes. I suppose the lads thought it a lark to clear off in a hurry. Even the risk of discovery wouldn't trouble them too much. But it troubled Smart. In the night he couldn't remember turning off the bunsen burner on which they brewed up a cuppa over a little tripod. It used to be a nice little fry-up of sausage and bacon, but the smell would have been a giveaway… And another thing that bothered Smart in the night was a bottle of varnish someone had spilt on the floor and which it would be hard to explain away if Raikes swept the place out before he could tackle the job himself. He dropped off to sleep at last and woke in the morning to learn the whole place had been burned down.'
He pulled out his pipe awkwardly, looked at his bandages and thought better of it.
'Let Sharon fill your pipe for you,' Jennifer said quickly. 'And how about us having a cuppa? My nerves are quite shattered with all this drama!' Her hasty departure couldn't have been more pointed. But Neil stood up to leave.
'Sorry, but you know I'm up to the eyes.'
Sharon said in a low voice: 'At least it wasn't malice aforethought. Oh, I'm so thankful.'
'It was abominable carelessness. In their hurry to get away, someone must have knocked over the bunsen. And with spilt varnish and wood shavings everywhere, the result was inevitable.'
Margaret Baumann - Design for Loving (1970) Page 16