by Louise James
“You know I’m right.” Ray saw his face as he came back to the table where they were having a late dinner. Greg pushed his plate away.
“I just don’t want to face it. Let’s get on.” They went back to the shed where they worked until late.
The post came unusually early on Wednesday. They were having breakfast as Ray had to be away early. Greg threw a wad of letters on to the table. “Two circulars” he muttered aloud. “An invitation to join a book club, how do they find you when you have only just moved?” A sudden loud whoop from Greg, made Ray, who never good in the mornings, drop his toast, marmalade side down on the floor. “For God’s sakes Greg” he muttered.
“I’ve sold the flat,” whooped Greg again. “Just in bloody time, I’ve sold the flat. Bloke’s very keen and in a hurry, he’s paid the full asking price. I’ll ring as soon as the office is open.”
“Great stuff” Ray busy scraping marmalade off the carpet. “What are you going to do with this sudden wealth?”
“Put this place right for the winter. Get the builders in, roof done, shower in, Rayburn, the works. Ray my old son, you’ve brought me luck. I said you were a little ray of sunshine.”
“Oh! Shut up, it’s too early for your larking about. Don’t forget to keep some back to live on, will you? I have to go or Megan will never forgive me if I don’t see her before she goes to work. She hasn’t forgiven me yet for working all day on the Land Rover.” Greg knew it was not that. Ray had come with a purpose on Sunday. Megan would not have been allowed to come near at that time.
“Now I can order those parts for the Land Rover then she will be on the road. By the way I haven’t paid you for the loom and those lamps. How much do I owe you?”
“No you don’t, the loom is a present from me and the lamps were cheap from the scrap. I intend to see what else they have lurking about there. So don’t go ordering until I give you a ring. I think they have stuff out of the ark and I don’t think they even know what’s there. So see you in a month, old son.” He slapped Greg on the back. “Watch yourself and don’t forget if you need me I’m only at the end of the phone.”
“Sure thing and Ray, I really am sorry for what I put you through and thanks for being there.”
“I know and me for blowing my top but that’s what friends are for. What say you, Rocky?” he bent down to caress the dog. “Look out for that old Luke what is name, don’t you let him get to you or I’ll come down with a gun myself. See you.” Ray turned the car and was gone.
Chapter 25
As the days passed Greg’s depression grew. He missed Ray and their discussions played on his mind. He knew that Ray was right in all he had said he must let Olwen go, there was no future in it. He felt lonely and far from well. He phoned Olwen forcing himself to laugh and talk about Ray and his budding romance with Megan but not a word about the row they had. Told of the fun they had putting the loom in, talked about Rocky and the chickens. He told her that he loved her and would see her the weekend but not a word about himself.
Next day he spoke to his parents and feeling better went to Hay to order tyres then to Hereford to the market, still the weekend would not come, his body would not rest or his mind settle. He alternately wished it all over but dreaded it happening. He managed to put some wire on the garden wall to stop the chickens, tried to weed a bit of the garden but failed the work bringing on pain and breathlessness. Too much thinking drove his brain crazy. It was a bad week ending in Friday when he went to the local surgery appointment for check -ups, blood tests and medication. Nothing changed, keep in touch take things easy.
As he was driving back through the village, Bronwyn Rhys was walking towards him, he stopped to thank her for the hens.
“How are they doing?” she asked, her light piercing eyes almost too much for him this morning with his thoughts on Olwen.
“Fine thanks, except for the cockerel’ She threw back her head and laughed, Olwen’s ringing laugh, he thought her snowy hair had probably once been red.
“Good. Gets a body going in the morning young man like you shouldn’t lie a bed. Not sick are you?”
“Here was golden opportunity, tell Bronwyn, she can tell Olwen and you never need see her again. Make it easy on yourself. What came out of his mouth was entirely different. “Not really, bit of strain in the chest muscles.”
She spoke her voice harsh. “Knowing Dr Vane, he’s given you pain killers or some such rubbish. Call by the cottage I have some liniment you can rub in. do you more good and I have a herb tea that will ease the pain more softly and less harmful than tablets. Drugs should be kept for serious illness not little things like strain. Call by later and don’t do any lifting for a while.” She marched off head high reminding him again of her granddaughter’s queenly bearing. They both walked tall.
“Oh! Shit!” Greg slammed the truck door. Rocky looked at him in alarm.
“Shit! Shit! Shit! Why do I do it? I just can’t talk to that woman, when I do I get into trouble of some sort and she gets me in deeper; now she will tell Olwen and she will rush up all sympathy and tender loving care. Then I will have to admit that I lied and instead tell her things to tear her heart out. Hell! I wish I had never started this. Wish I had never come here.” He slammed the truck into reverse, spun around and took to the hill road.
Luke Jeffries was on his way down as Greg raced up. Greasy cap pulled well down, huddled into an old army greatcoat in spite of the sun, he looked up as Greg passed. Sullen faced there was no flicker of recognition yet Greg knew he spotted Rocky on the seat beside him. ‘If he touches you Boy, I’ll nail him heart or no heart’ he muttered.
His bad temper lasted all day and the heavy rain that beat on the windows in the late afternoon did nothing to help. It broke the new shrubs from their supports, lashed the flowers to the ground and beat a loud tattoo on the galvanised roof. The room grew dark as he paced the floor. The television jumped and flickered when he turned it on, after trying to watch for a while he swore and turned it off. ‘I don’t want to go out in this. I don’t want to go to the witch’s house. I don’t need her medication and least of all do I want to tell Olwen anything tonight but if I don’t go and fetch the blasted stuff she will sense that I’m lying and if I don’t tell Olwen tonight….’. he groaned flinging himself in a chair turning the television on again to drown his thoughts. An hour of sport partly took his attention when he turned it off the rain had stopped but with every intention of starting again.
“Better go and get it over with Rocky. I shall be glad when this day is over.” The dog leapt up, he didn’t mind another trip.
Greg left Rocky in the truck with a swift glance up and down the road he locked it. Samuel Peeps wouldn’t want Rocky invading his territory anyway. The wet bushes slapped against his jeans as he walked up the path, before he could knock the door opened. Bronwyn stood with Samuel Peepes beside her in the porch with his tail wagging.
“Come in lad. Glad to see you waited until the storm passed, mighty heavy at one time.” Greg entered not sure what to expect, wiping his feet carefully on the mat he looked around. The heavy porch door led directly into a large lounge. It took Greg by surprise. Whether he had been subconsciously expecting something akin to Wokey Hole, filled with herbs, toads and black cats, the reality was very different. Deep chintz covered chairs were comfortably placed near amber reading lamps. The soft tonnes of the tan and cream carpet were inhanced that lit a warm welcome in the lovely Adam fireplace. A rosewood piano stood open invitingly and dainty china adorned an Elizabethan sideboard which occupied the wholw of one wall. Bowls of leaves and flowers stood around with several silver-framed photgraphs. A big desk was positioned near the window with a computer and piles of paper giving evidence of her recent occupation. The whole room spoke of comfort, charm and taste.
“Don’t stand there staring, come in, take your wet jacket off and sit down. Not there –you will sit on Marmalade Ma
caverty, it’s his favourite chair. Eliza Doolittle is hiding underneath. She will come out presently to see you.”
Greg turned to see if she was laughing at him but she had gone into the kitchen and he could hear her rattling cups. From under the fringes of the chair emerged very slowly a huge white Persian cat with vivid blue eyes fixing him with a steady stare so like her owner’s he felt slightly unnerved. Holding him with her eyes for several minutes until she had inspected him thoroughly she then jumped into another chair disturbing another cat Greg hadn’t noticed, Ginger and white he was the exact shade of the cushions on which he slept; Greg realised he could have easily sat on him without realising he was there. As Eliza jumped on him marmalade rose and stretched, he was the biggest cat Greg had ever seen, he yawned showing sharp pointed teeth as his mouth snapped shut, his eyes opened large and green, they blazed an instant before they closed again and he disappeared into the cushions and his own fur.
“Don’t tell me, Macavity ignored you while Liza inspected you while acting every inch a lady.” Bronwyn entered carrying a tray. “But then you expected black ones didn’t you?” This was so near the truth that Greg rising to take the tray found himself flushing. She laughed although her speaking voice was harsh her laugh had a ringing quality very like Olwen’s.
“I know what people think of me. I have been about too many years and have too many eccentricities for this neighbourhood not to gossip. I don’t encourage visitors and curiosity breeds rumours. You’ll take tea? Most men like cake.’
Greg recovered his composure and his good manners at the same time.
“I’m sorry, I am rather rude,… I like your cats.”
“They are characters. Eliza is very curious and has to be told and shown everything while Macaverty is exactly like the one in the musical Cats; whatever happens he is never there.”
Greg tried to balance cup, saucer and plate. Bronwyn lifted books off a small table and carried it to him.
“Eliza Dolittle was a favourite character of mine and a female Persian is such a lady yet her curiosity is straight out of the gutter, she will kill anything that moves, explore anywhere, try anything but comes in perfectly clean and snowy white, extremely choosy over her food, only the best or she would rather starve to death, very small portions at a time as a lady should. She never eats what she kills and never breaks anything when she climbs around. Nothing at all is what she does best for days at a time. When I was given Macavity he was neutered, thin and lanky and I named him Marmalade for his colour, Then I saw the musical and named him Macavity because it fits him to a tee. If anything gets broken he is never in the room. He eats anything and everything, if no one is around he steals, frays cushions, scratches furniture, knocks over plants but you’ll never see him do it, as far as he’s concerned either he’s out or asleep on the chair. Never catches anything but is loyal and affectionate.
Greg laughed. Great, they are two beautiful creatures.’
“They keep me company along with Samuel Peeps here.’ The blue sheepdog had crept behind her chair and was pretending to be asleep.
Greg stole a look at Bronwyn as she bent to caress the dog. The term witch didn’t suit her in this room dressed in a soft blue suit, her white hair piled on her head, on her wrist a silver watch. Several large emerald rings gave her hands the appearance of delicacy, the fingers long and slender, not the hands of the average country woman. The air of elegance became her and Greg felt himself in the presence of a lady.
“Now, young man.’ Greg brought himself from his musings. “What are we going to treat you with? Can’t have you delicate when Olwen comes home, can we?” Greg found himself flushing like a girl again. ‘Damn the woman, she always has this effect on me.’ The light eyes were steady now fixed on his.
“I know that you and Olwen are already lovers.’
Greg started up. “Good God! How.?’
“Don’t blaspheme, young man. Olwen tells me most things but she didn’t tell me that; neither would I expect her too. It’s your own business after all but I can read faces and body language. She is a Gemini and although they are several people in one astronomically they are also extremely easy to read. You are Aquarius so you should get on well, depending of course on your ascendant and emotional signs. I will read them one day for you if you’re so inclined. Olwen’s main problem is having a nasty temper, being a red-head and a good bit Irish it often gets her into trouble. You have a short sharp temper and although short lived sparks will fly.”
“How do you know I’m Aquarius?’ Greg was deeply perturbed.
“Your face, your hands and your sunny disposition when you are not fretting over some inner worry as you are now.’ Oh God! Greg’s plea to the Almighty was a silent one this time.
“Now I think you have some explaining to do. What is worrying you so much and how does it affect my girl?’ Greg’s first reaction to this barrage was to tell Bronwyn to go to hell, mind her own business and to get out fast. Then came a feeling of relief; stop fighting, tell her everything. The coward’s way out Great!
“I am single, thirty-five and in love with Olwen but I have a terminal heart condition called Myocarditis and I can’t tell her.’ He listened to the words in amazement as if someone else had spoken them. The silence was broken only by the crackling of the fire, Samuel Peeps snoring and the rain beating on the window. If he had planned to blurt it out that way he could never have done it. The silence deepened as the dog stopped snoring and Greg became aware of the grandfather clock ticking behind him. He watched Eliza Dolittle delicately wash a paw. The silence seemed to last forever but it could have only been minutes.
“When are you going to tell her?” the usually harsh voice was very gentle.
“I don’t know. I just can’t. I told my parents, that was hell for all of us. My friend Ray who is like a brother to me found out from my ex- boss. I hurt him badly by not telling him myself. Damn it I’m afraid to tell her.” His words came out disjointed and full of pain. He looked up. “Not because I want to keep it a secret but I don’t know what effect it will have on her. Will it be revulsion or pity? Will she want to smother me to death as my mother does? I don’t know her well enough to even guess her reaction.’
His green eyes were dark now, hard as flint but unflinching as they met Bronwyn’s. She saw beyond to the anguish inside the man. Again silence Greg waited for her to speak nails biting into his palms.
“Tell me the medical facts as you know them.” came a surprising reply. Greg told her his case history and Mr McLoughlin’s final words. She answered slowly. A donor probably be found, it’s always a matter of how much time you have. What medication are you on?’ Greg told her surprised at her clinical interest.
“It’s the best. The chance of a donor in your circumstances is a lot more difficult of course. You’ve already accepted that. The medication you are on does its job or you would be in hospital by now. I can see you’re a fighter Greg the positive attitude can actually slow the process for some people. Do you eat carefully and not over exert yourself?’
“Yes, I do most of the time.’
“All of the time young man, all of the time. I shall be keeping an eye on you. You interest me. If I had met you some years ago I would have tried alternative medicine on you. I am a great believer in it. Do you believe in faith healers?”
Greg with a thousand questions on his mind found himself deep in a discussion on fith healing and herbs. They talked for an hour without mentioning Olwen once. Was she going to tell her? He felt bitterness rising at the blows that life was dealing him. Bronwyn stood up as did Samuel Peeps padding to her side.
“Well interview over. I must get ready for the girl. I presume that you aren’t taking her for a meal tonight?” Greg at a loss for words could only shake his head.
“We hadn’t planned” he stammered. Then angrily his head came up. “No we hadn’t planned because tonight I was going to
finish with her, tell her how sick I am and tell her to find someone else.” He was almost shouting now in his agitation. “Then she could spend the rest of the weekend feeling hurt for herself and sorry for me and herself.’
“You think I am going to tell her don’t you? Let you off the hook. Well I’m not. Olwen wouldn’t thank me for and would resent you and me. I don’t think you are usually dull but it stands to reason that you aren’t thinking straight at the moment. It’s a miracle that you can think at all it’s a lot to bear for a youngster. if you were my age you might not be so bothered perhaps. So you pick your time and place, say your piece and Olwen will speak for herself of that you can be sure.” She led the way to the door pausing, her hand on the knob… “I like you. You are a good lad, a good looking one too. I know Olwen better than her own mother does. Whatever she says or does one thing I know for sure, she will not stay with you out of pity. If you are ever in trouble up there give me a ring”… Good night.” She closed the door firmly behind him.
Chapter 26
The night was chilly the rain was bringing in thoughts of autumn. The daylight had slid into an early twilight and the wind had risen, first leaves swirling reluctantly from the trees. The brook was loud as it carried water from the hill. Rocky lay by the hearth breaking his summer habit of lying in the porch. Greg made up the fire until the old range glowed. He was a credible cook but not hungry himself knowing Bronwyn had prepared a meal for Olwen, he put a bottle of wine in the fridge. Washed, carefully shaved he changed into grey slacks and green sweatshirt, putting a Debussy CD on the music centre turning it low then sitting in the flickering firelight to wait, his heart sick. Remembering the growing darkness, he rose again to put on the outside light and open the road gate. He stood a moment in the rising wind, listening to the brook. It had stopped raining and the air was fresh, dampness seeping through his clothes. His thoughts jumbled and unsettled, he wanted to wait out in the dark as if by not seeing he would not feel, then shivering with nerves and cold he returned to the house. Rocky had deserted him and stayed by the fire. He sat again staring into the flames trying to keep his thoughts away from what he intended to say, thinking again about Bronwyn and the cats smiling a little at their names and characters desperately remembering the lovely quiet room still unable to relate the charming, educated woman of today with the witch in her old clothes tramping the hills with Samuel Peeps. As his thoughts roamed he remembered the photographs on her piano. The large one of Olwen a studio portrait that captured her wide grey eyes, cascade of red hair and her half smile he would love a photo of her like that. He switched the thoughts away, think about something else. What was he to do with this place when the builders had finished? He speculated again with some of the ideas that he and Ray had tossed around. Was that the Jeep? He started to his feet but it was only a Land Rover on the mountain road. He sat down again. He felt he would like animals of some kind. Rocky and the chickens were good but the fields needed to be used or they would become wilder than they already were unless he ploughed them for a market garden. No too high for that, should have gone further south; in any case there was one field that could not be ploughed, rare flowers and plants grew there, one of them Autumn crocus. He must go and look find out more, it must be nearly time for them to flower now. Why didn’t she come? Was Bronwyn deliberately keeping her? What did they talk about? Would she give a hint about his illness? He knew she wouldn’t, it wasn’t her way, He now realised that for all her brusque speech she was a very private person and would grant to others the same privilege. What would Olwen do? Where would she go afterwards? That she might stay with him never entered his head. He could only see her face twisted in pity or hidden from him in pain. He wished she would come, at the same time he was glad of the delay. Thoughts tossed to and fro until he was exhausted and suddenly fell asleep, the flickering firelight moving across his face.