Summer in the Orchard (Little Somerby)

by Fay Keenan

  ‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Joe said. ‘Don’t your aunt and uncle run the place? I’m sure they won’t mind if you’re a bit late.’

  ‘That’s so not the point,’ Meredith snapped. ‘I’ve never been late for a shift in my life.’ Tearing the hair band off her wrist, she tied her hair back again. ‘And Caroline’s been really snappy lately. I don’t want to be the one who gets a bollocking.’

  Joe sat up. ‘I’ll go and get the ponies,’ he said, folding up the picnic blanket. He paused. ‘Look, Meredith…’

  Meredith glanced up from sending a text to her uncle Jonathan, explaining that she was going to be a few minutes late, which she couldn’t seem to spell correctly. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘This… this means what you want it to mean. It’s up to you what happens next. No pressure. I promise.’

  Meredith smiled. ‘Thanks, Joe. And it meant a lot. I promise you. But we really do have to get these ponies home, or I won’t have a job to go back to.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Joe strode over to the ponies and, catching their reins, brought them both back over to Meredith. ‘Let’s make sure you get where you need to go.’

  35

  The walk back to Lily’s cottage was the longest of Alex Fraser’s life. What had he done? Why hadn’t he just laughed in Mark’s face, denied everything and made the other man look like the idiot? He’d let that smarmy, cheating ex-boyfriend of Sophie’s get under his skin, and blown his chances of ever getting to know his father’s family properly. And on top of that, by not being honest with Sophie sooner he’d blown out of the water any hope of having a relationship with her, too. Any chance of reconciling with Jack’s family, of getting to know Matthew and Jonathan as brothers, honestly and without the subterfuge of the past few weeks, had gone. And he’d betrayed the trust of a woman who had put her own trust in him despite being so badly betrayed herself. He deserved to be exiled, to get on the next plane back to Vancouver and never darken the doors of Little Somerby again. He knew, now, that he’d handled everything completely wrongly.

  As he walked down High Street, head down, avoiding the smiles of the people he’d got to know in the time he’d been in Little Somerby, he thought about how quickly he’d been accepted here; of how Lily had opened her home to him, how Sophie had seemed to enjoy imparting her knowledge of cider making to him, how, when he walked into The Stationmaster of an evening after work, Vern had hailed him and poured him a pint of lager without prompting, knowing quickly which brand was his ‘usual’. How the long, sunny days and short sweet Somerset nights had been made all the sweeter since he’d fallen in love with Sophie. How, despite the ever present ache of grief for his mother, he’d not once felt homesick. Little Somerby and its residents had beguiled him; he felt as though he belonged.

  And now all that was over. It wouldn’t take long before the village grapevine, probably headed up by Mark Simpson, went into overdrive about Jack Carter’s long lost, illegitimate son. The wrong-side-of-the-blanket Carter, who’d insinuated himself into the family business like a red sock in a white wash. He’d upset the balance, thrown over the applecart and things would never be the same again.

  And for what? Jack was dead and buried; never to give Alex the answers he so desperately craved. His half-brothers would close ranks, deny him access to any information. Jonathan had been horrified by the discovery of the truth, and Matthew, with his unimpeachable sense of integrity, would doubtless be at the head of the party to hound him from the village. He knew about as much now as he had when he’d made the discovery of his paternity; so, what had it all been for?

  But that wasn’t all. Somewhere in the mix had been Sophie Henderson. Tall, beautiful, clever, funny Sophie, who’d stolen his heart on that very first day they’d met, although he hadn’t known it at the time. Sophie, that strange mix of confidence and caution, who’d confided in him, trusted him, given him the first feeling of home since his mother had died. Sophie, who’d taught him so much about a subject she loved, and allowed him to share so much more once they’d stopped fighting their attraction. Sophie, who’d shouted at him that she never wanted to see him again, now that she knew the truth.

  ‘I should have told you,’ he whispered, earning a surprised look from elderly Miss Pinkham, who was passing by on the pavement with her irritable little dog, Hugo. It was his desire to maintain control, to reveal the truth at a time of his own choosing, that had done for it all in the end. There were some things in life he just couldn’t control; that much, now, he knew. And by hesitating, he had allowed his cover to be blown by someone who wasn’t even worth the time of day.

  ‘Did you forget something? Everything all right, my love?’ he heard Lily call as he passed her living room hurriedly. He knew, if he stopped to talk to her now, he’d break down, and he didn’t want to see the look in her eye once she knew the truth of his subterfuge. Almost sprinting up the steep stairs to his room, he closed the door, trying desperately to shut out the world, to stem the flow of emotion that was still bubbling so close to the surface. Sinking down onto his neatly made bed, he put his head in his hands.

  *

  Some time later, he raised his head again and took stock. He couldn’t hide in his bedroom like a sullen teenager forever, and Lily deserved answers, or at the very least to know that she was going to be losing her lodger a little sooner than she’d thought. But first things first; opening his laptop, he searched the flight listings for Vancouver from Bristol and felt a stab of something unidentifiable that there was a last minute deal on a flight early the next morning. It would mean a transfer in Amsterdam, but the extra time felt like a reasonable penance for his actions. Shame it wasn’t today, but, he figured, not even Jonathan Carter could begrudge him one last, sleepless night in Little Somerby. Connecting to Lily’s wireless printer in her study, he proceeded to sort out the paperwork.

  A gentle knock at his bedroom door snapped him out of his brooding.

  ‘There’s someone here to see you, Alexander.’ Lily’s kindly face appeared around the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ Alex asked. He still liked the way she occasionally used his full name, even if it did make him feel as though he were a small boy in trouble. This time, he supposed, he actually was.

  ‘Why don’t you come into the living room and see for yourself?’

  Alex’s heart thumped. Could it be Sophie? Despite everything, had she decided to make the first move? Hope flared in his chest as he hurried down the steep stairs of the cottage, but as Lily opened the living room door he was kneed in the gut by disappointment, and then a wave of anxiety washed over him just as quickly. There, standing stiffly by the fireplace, was Matthew.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Matthew said, holding up his hands as Alex took a step backwards. ‘I know your last encounter with Jonathan wasn’t exactly friendly, but I’m not here to start throwing my weight around. I just want to talk.’

  Alex nodded, for once at a loss for words.

  ‘Can I get you a drink, dear?’ Lily asked from where she’d stopped in the hallway.

  ‘No, thanks, Mrs Henderson,’ Matthew said. ‘I’m hoping I’ll be able to convince Alex to come back home with me in a sec, where I’m sure there’s going to be a fair bit of drinking going on.’ He laughed nervously. ‘And Jonathan’s promised to behave himself.’

  ‘You mean he’s not going to try to throw me out again?’ Alex finally found his voice.

  ‘If he does, he’ll have me to answer to,’ Matthew replied gently. ‘Look. I’m feeling pretty confused myself right now, and I’m sure you must be, too.’ Matthew glanced at Lily, who was still standing in the doorway of the parlour.

  ‘Would you like me to make myself scarce?’ Lily asked wryly.

  Matthew shook his head. ‘No, Mrs Henderson, there’s no need for that. You, of all people, won’t be surprised to learn that Alex here claims to be my half-brother.’

  Lily’s right eyebrow twitched in astonishment and there was a long pause before anyone said anything. Eventually, she
broke the silence. ‘Well, it’s about time someone worked it out so that I didn’t just seem like a geriatric novelist with an overactive imagination.’

  Alex’s knees, already trembling, felt as though they were about to give way. ‘You knew?’ he said.

  ‘I suspected,’ Lily replied softly. ‘After all, I knew Jack for a long, long, time.’ She glanced at Matthew, seemingly gauging his reaction, before she continued. ‘He was a good man, but not always a responsible one. He could charm the birds from the trees on a sunny day. Add to that your bone structure, which could only come from Jack’s side of the family, and it didn’t take much to join the dots.’

  Alex shook his head. ‘But if it was so obvious, how come no one else called me out on it?’

  ‘People are preoccupied these days,’ Lily said. ‘You are all so busy looking at your phones that you don’t really look at each other. Even my granddaughter’s addicted to Instagram. And…’ she paused with a twinkle in her eye, ‘… I’m a keen watcher of people. You don’t write thirty bestselling novels without looking around you from time to time and working out stories.’

  Lily, still using her walking stick, walked over to the dresser in the corner of her living room. ‘And now that it’s all out in the open, I have something in here somewhere that you should both see.’

  Matthew glanced at Alex, and as their eyes met an understanding passed between them. Was this the first step towards a reconciliation? Alex so wanted to be accepted by this man; somehow, gaining Matthew’s approval was more important than anything. Matthew was, after all, the de facto head of the Carter family since Jack had passed away. And it was more than that; he liked Matthew. He had a feeling that the two of them had a lot in common, and he wanted to spend time with the man on an honest footing now.

  Looking back at Lily, Alex wondered what she was up to. The old lady had a shrewd head on her shoulders and was given to big reveals, most of them timely, from what Sophie had told him. Lily reached to the top shelf of her bureau and slotted the key she found there into the lock of the desk. Rummaging around in some papers, she finally found what she was looking for. Silently, she handed it over to Alex.

  ‘When Jack had his last heart attack, he passed me several documents that he wanted kept safe,’ Lily said gently. Seeing Matthew’s look of alarm, she quickly qualified. ‘Don’t worry, my love, it was nothing legally binding, or anything that would change your, er, circumstances. They were items of a more sentimental value.’ She nodded. ‘Go on, Alex, take a look.’ She smiled as Alex’s hands started to shake. ‘Along with the photograph of your mother were several letters. He couldn’t tell Jonathan and Matthew, he didn’t see the point in enlightening them about something that had happened such a long time ago, but neither could he bear to just dispose of the information.’ She sighed. ‘I often wish he’d just burned the lot, but he was adamant that he needed someone to take care of these. Perhaps he had a premonition that someone was going to come asking questions one day.’

  The pile of letters that Lily handed Alex was yellowed with age, but there was no doubt that it was his mother’s distinctive handwriting on the envelopes, and, as he pulled out the first thin airmail sheet inside one of them, his hands started to shake. Taking a deep breath, somehow knowing that there was no going back, Alex steeled himself to read. Not able to speak, he passed the letter to Matthew, whose head nodded almost imperceptibly in understanding as he read.

  Darling Jack,

  I know that you’ve been waiting to hear from me, and I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to write this letter. It’s taken me this long to get my head together. I’m so sorry to hear about Cecily. You must, of course, do what is right for her and your boys. They will need you in the coming months.

  I think, under the circumstances, it would be better if we put this summer to one side now, and keep it as the wonderful memory it was. Please do not try to contact me. I am, and will be, all right.

  Ever,

  Addie.

  Seeing that Alex was still incapable of speech, Lily elaborated. ‘It was almost as if Jack knew he wasn’t going to be around much longer. He didn’t want his sons to find anything that might have led to questions about his affair with your mother, but neither could he entirely let go of what had happened.’

  Alex traced the outline of his mother’s face in the photograph with a shaky fingertip. She looked so happy, as if whoever had taken it had made her laugh shortly before the shutter closed. She was standing in front of the breathtaking backdrop of Kennedy Falls. Her hair was swept off her face, and she was wearing a loose red shirt and white trousers. She looked young, healthy and very much in love. Then he made the connection; the photo of Jack, the one his mother had given him just before she died, the one he’d carried with him to Little Somerby, had been taken in the same place, at the same time. They were two halves of the same scene; the same moment, much as the letters he’d brought with him from Jack were the other half of the love story his mother had written in hers. Perhaps, in another time, those halves might have been together permanently, instead of separated by greater circumstances.

  ‘Jack told me that this was taken on their last day together. She was determined to think well of him, and she let him come back to Cecily with her blessing. She was in control of it all. From the conversations I had with Jack before he died, I’m also fairly sure he had no idea about you, Alex. And from what I know of Jack, if he had known, he’d certainly have made contact with you.’

  ‘He really did love her, didn’t he?’ Alex said, half to himself. He’d almost forgotten that Matthew was standing next to him.

  ‘Yes, he did.’ Lily placed a cool hand on Alex’s arm. ‘And I think they both would have wanted you to have these. For all the secrecy surrounding their relationship, they were always honest with each other. They knew it couldn’t last, and they’d both made peace with that.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ Alex turned back to Lily. ‘If it was all such a secret, how did you know?’

  Lily sighed. ‘Jack must have known he wasn’t long for this world. He could have got a safety deposit box and put all of his things associated with your mother in it, but he wanted to keep the memories closer, and he needed to talk. He went through all kinds of hell after Cecily died. He knew he’d treated her badly in the past, and when she became so ill, he felt it was God’s way of punishing him for the way he’d carried on behind her back. I know, over the years, especially after Cecily’s death, that he thought about trying to find your mother again.’ Lily shook her head. ‘Jack was never very fond of computers, or he’d probably have realised he could have looked for her on Facebook. But perhaps it’s for the best that he didn’t. The guilt of finding out about you, and that he’d never had a part in your life, probably would have killed him. When your mother told you the truth, it allowed you to come here, in your own time and on your own terms.’

  Alex shook his head. ‘I wish I could have met him.’

  Lily smiled. ‘I think you’d have liked him, in spite of all the history. And I know he’d have liked you. You’re so much like your brothers.’

  ‘You knew all along, didn’t you?’ Alex said wonderingly. ‘You knew who my father was from the day you met me.’

  ‘I had my suspicions,’ Lily said. ‘But it wasn’t up to me to voice them. After all, Jack couldn’t have told me what he didn’t know. You needed to do that in your own time.’

  ‘Did Sophie… you didn’t tell her?’

  Lily shook her head. ‘No. Again, not my place. And I couldn’t be completely sure until you opened your mouth and that wonderful accent came out. Although, having said that, your bone structure is pure Carter, even if your colouring is your mother’s. Before long, everyone would have worked it out.’

  Alex nodded, remembering with horrifying clarity the way his stomach had dropped through the floor when Mark had called him out by the gates of the cider farm. ‘I guess I was fooling myself, thinking I could come here and keep it a secret.�
��

  ‘Nothing’s a secret for long in Little Somerby,’ Lily said gently. She turned to Matthew. ‘I can imagine this is a bit of a shock for you, too.’ She put a hand on Matthew’s arm. ‘I’m sorry that I kept this from you, but after Jack died it seemed that the secret would die with him. It wasn’t until I spent more time with Alex that I realised how he fitted into the things that Jack had left me. That actually, Addie had been trying to protect you and Jonathan from finding out about her own son, and to a certain extent to protect Jack, too.’ She sighed. ‘You couldn’t make it up, really, although I’ve written some pretty implausible plots myself over the years.’

  ‘I want to be angry,’ Matthew said gruffly. ‘It would be so easy to be angry with Dad, and with you, Mrs Henderson, for keeping this from me, but after everything that’s happened over the past year or so, anger and assigning blame seems pointless. We’ve all lost people; I think it’s time to make the most of what we do have.’ He extended a hand to Alex. ‘Let’s start again, and do it properly. I’m Matthew. The older, and generally assumed to be the wiser, of your two brothers. It’s nice to meet you, Alex.’

  Alex swallowed hard. The last thing he was expecting from Matthew, after everything that had happened, was such total and unconditional acceptance. He smiled, despite the lump that seemed to be lodged in his throat. ‘I’m Alex Fraser, a cider farmer from Vancouver. It’s nice to meet you, Matthew.’ He reached out and shook Matthew’s hand, and in that moment he felt that finally things were starting to make sense.

  ‘Well, that’s a start,’ Lily said, her shrewd blue eyes twinkling.

  Matthew smiled at Lily, before turning back to Alex. ‘I think you should probably come back to Cowslip Barn with me and speak to the man who tried to sack you, if you’re up to it?’

  ‘Is Jonathan likely to meet me at the door with a rifle?’

  ‘Not in my house, he’s not.’ Matthew laughed. ‘I think you’re safe for now.’