Out of My Depth

by Gwenyth Clare Lynes

  “You seem so very sure that those two have a future together, John.”

  “Yes, Trixie, I do, but all the difficulties they are encountering at the moment are issues only they can sort out. In the meantime I want to be prepared for all eventualities.”

  “Yes, I agree. It sounds quite a sensible idea to set an amount aside but why does it need to be in a separate account?”

  “My second suggestion is to offer Roger a junior partnership in the practice when he concludes his year at Barts but…”

  Trixie gasped in surprise but John continued, “…obviously, he will not have sufficient savings to buy into the partnership so it will be our gift to him. However, he will need to scrutinize the practice accounts before he signs a formal contract. I feel that the monies we’ve allocated to Jansy and Dave’s nuptials needs to be equal to that gift and kept distinctly apart till such time as it is required.”

  “Dear John, I think that’s a splendid idea. Have you intimated your proposal to Roger?”

  “No, I wanted to get your views first. Similarly, I want to ensure we have an amount set aside when he and Emma get married.”

  Trixie laughed. “Do you have inside information on that matter, too?”

  “No, I just believe it’s a question of time.” He smiled his lopsided grin. “You’ll see.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Oh, John!”

  “We…ll, who comes home at every opportunity to see a certain young lady? And who has a personal invitation to her graduation?”

  “You are most observant, my dear.”

  “Just so!” John nodded wisely. “It’s a skill I’ve learned over time.”

  “Is that right?”

  “That leaves Stephen. Now that he’s got his diploma I feel we ought to do something to help him get established.”

  “In work, you mean?”

  “Yes. We didn’t give him a gift for his eighteenth and his twenty-first is coming up next year…”

  “But we paid for the barbeque for the whole village and we’re providing his funds for the UEA.”

  “Yes, I know, but what I’m proposing as far as he is concerned will not only help you but hopefully secure his future, too, as well as be of benefit to our community.”

  “John, that sounds more like a riddle.”

  “I’m thinking of books, books and even more books. Our house seems to be overtaken by them.”

  “Tell me about it. It’s impossible to get into Stephen’s room without falling over all the volumes he has piled on the floor. There are masses of boxes in the loft, too, and the spare room is gradually becoming equally inundated. I can’t hoover and I mustn’t move them.”

  “Right! So, we need to find them another home and I have just the place in mind.”

  “Really? I’ve been longing to find a solution to that little problem for such a long time.”

  “I believe the derelict eyesore opposite brother Billy’s shop to be the ideal solution.”

  “John!” Trixie’s involuntary shout caused the waiter to jump as he was setting the dishes upon the table. She was horrified at her husband’s suggestion.

  “Ooops! I’m so sorry,” She patted the arm of the young man as he tried to fix the food that had spilled. “Please, not to worry. It was my fault entirely.” Trixie quickly righted things. “See, not too much damage,” and she proceeded to serve the side orders onto each of their plates.

  “You know, John, some of those books are first editions and others are quite valuable. We can’t dump them on wasteland simply to get them out of our way.”

  “No, no, that’s not what I intended. Our son must make them earn their keep.”

  “How?”

  John slowly savoured the fork full of food he had lifted to his mouth. “Oh my! This is absolutely delicious.”

  “John!”

  “Do try it, my dear; it is so succulent and tasty.”

  Trixie looked at him with exasperation. “Stop teasing, John, and explain how that overgrown wilderness can possibly solve the problem of Stephen’s books or contribute to his future success.”

  “Please eat, Trixie, while the food is still hot.”

  “Only if you’ll explain the conundrum you have set before me.”

  “You’ll be the loser; your food won’t taste quite so good if you let it go cold.”

  Trixie caught the glint in John’s eye, sighed resignedly, and commenced to eat her meal.

  John let the silence hang between them for a time as they appreciated the texture and flavour of the meal set before them. He was well aware that between each mouthful Trixie was peeking at him through the corner of her eye for his mischievous manner.

  After a while she said, “Don’t keep me in suspense any longer, you tease.”

  John wiped his mouth on his napkin, deliberately taking his time.

  “Have you ever really looked at that plot of land opposite Billy’s shop?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have. It seems to have always been there, part of our growing up. At times the trees and shrubs hang over the roadway and some of the roots stick up making walking that side of the road somewhat difficult particularly when you’re pushing a buggy or are accompanied by a small child. It is beginning to look a little unsightly, though I think the council, or someone, comes occasionally to cut the worst of it back.”

  “Have you ever looked beyond the undergrowth on the fringe?”

  Trixie shook her head. “As children we always referred to it as the dark wood and kept well away.”

  “Yes, I recall as a youngster that there were gaps between the hedges that looked like gaping black holes and we dared other lads to run into them or pay a forfeit.”

  “You’re right. It always seemed a scary place.”

  “I am quite convinced that at the heart of that neglected woodland there are some dwellings.”

  Trixie perked up, “Really?”

  “I don’t want to draw undue attention to the plot because unscrupulous speculators so quickly jump on the band wagon. In fact, I’m surprised that some builder hasn’t already seen its potential and snapped it up, unless they’ve viewed it as green belt land and left well alone.”

  “Have you spoken with Durrant’s about your theories?”

  “Not yet,” John slowly shook his head. “Ben and Roy would hold their own counsel if I shared my ideas with them but…”

  “…Gordon and Matty would struggle to keep the news to themselves.”

  He nodded. “Sadly that is all too true. They would blunder ahead with the scheme, without forethought or planning, focussed solely on what was in it for them.”

  “What has this to do with Stephen and his books?”

  “I would like to purchase the property for him …”

  “Whatever for?”

  “…as a place for his books and…”

  “John!” Trixie rolled her eyes to the ceiling and gave an exasperated sigh. “You have a rare imagination if you can visualize storing books in an overgrown jungle.”

  “…I think it has potential to be developed into a book shop and wood workshop.”

  Trixie shook her head in disbelief, “But it’s woodland, John!”

  “So it would appear but I’m convinced the trees and undergrowth are peripheral and that at the heart there are buildings of some sort. The shrubs may have protected them over the years or they may be in a sorry state of disrepair and decay but I’m certain there’s something there and I want to find out what it is.”

  “How can you be so sure there is any sort of structure amongst that entire tangle?”

  “Because I remember on the occasion when I was dared to run into the gap in the undergrowth I tripped and fell against something solid. It felt like a wall of some sort.”

  “But how do you expect Stephen to turn that into a viable business?”

  “My dear, I’ve told no one my thoughts, but you, because of the reasons I’ve already given but I’m sure if we got the area cleared and ha
d a good look at the heart of the plot we would find a structure of some sort that could be renovated for Stephen’s use.”

  “That sounds a tremendous undertaking.”

  John nodded thoughtfully.

  “Mmm, but not insurmountable. I am currently looking into the ownership of the property so that I can make an offer. I’ve looked through the PCC records and there’s not an entry there that suggests it belongs to the Church so I suspect that it was at sometime in the past acquisitioned by Lord Edmund’s father or even his grandfather. I have an appointment with the de Vere estate manager tomorrow morning and hopefully between the two of us we’ll be able to get to the heart of the matter.”

  “I see.”

  “I will put in a bid, with your approval, then take Adam Catton into my confidence and ask him to act on our behalf.”

  “If that is what you think will be best I’ll go along with your decision, John. But, what if there is nothing there but scrub land?”

  “Excuse me, sir, can I get you a sweet?”

  John looked questioningly at his wife, “My dear?”

  Trixie began to shake her head but the Doctor forestalled her, “They have got your favourite.”

  “They have?”

  “Crème Brulee with raspberries,” he said enticingly.

  “Oh John, I shouldn’t really.”

  “Why not, just this once? We don’t eat out very often and this is a treat,” he cajoled.

  “Oh, alright,” she acquiesced with a smile, “as long as you make it right with my doctor if my cholesterol readings go sky high.”

  “Two, please,” John requested of the waiter, “and we’ll have two coffees, thankyou.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  John looked across at Trixie. “If, when the area is cleared, I’m proved to be wrong there will be opportunity to develop the land as we wish.”

  “You’re getting quite animated about this project, aren’t you?” Trixie smiled at her husband’s boyish enthusiasm.

  “Yes, I suppose I am. I’ve been thinking it over for some time but wanted to be sure in my own mind that I had covered every aspect before sharing with you my intention and setting the wheels in motion.”

  “So where do we go from here?”

  “Dependant on the outcome of my appointment with Scholes in the morning, I’ll notify Adam, then as soon as the sale goes through we’ll tell Stephen.”

  “He’ll be so excited. He’s been desperately searching for property suitable for a woodwork studio. His enterprise has outgrown the space allocated to him in the garage.”

  “Well, if this all goes ahead I’m sure those problems will be solved for him.”

  “I guess it will then be all systems go?”

  “You’re spot on. The work will be a challenge but what a reward, if I’m right,” he said eagerly.

  “How long should it take?”

  “The sale, about five weeks or so, I should think if all goes well. The land clearing,” he shrugged, “as long as it takes!”

  “Then we shall have our house back and Stephen will have space of his own to develop his two passions.”

  “Yes and I believe there will also be opportunity to create jobs for other village youngsters.”

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know yet but I feel the site has so much potential which I’d like to see being utilised for the benefit of our community rather than remaining a blight at the heart of our village.”

  It was well known that the village shop or the school gate were first-rate places to go to glean news or gather gossip. So, as parents, mostly mothers, dropped off their children at school on the Tuesday morning following Doctor and Mrs Cooper’s evening out at the Station Hotel, a stranger mingled amongst them. She attached herself to first this chatting group and then hovered behind others. She nodded and said ‘hello’, joined in the general chit-chat, as appropriate, and gave the impression that to all intents and purposes she was one of them. Then, she fluttered between them like a restless butterfly, as in twos and threesomes they meandered along the lane towards the Village Stores. But by the time they reached the shop she was gone.

  “Who was that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m not aware of a new family in the village.”

  “Nor me.”

  “She complained about the lack of parking…”

  “Not a local, obviously!”

  “…and grumbled about the wood.”

  “Called it an eyesore and a waste of space and berated the council for not doing something about it.”

  “I shouldn’t think the council is the least bit interested in our trees.”

  “It’s lovely in spring when the fresh green leaves burst open and a real picture when they change into those brilliant autumn colours.”

  “The roots can be a nuisance, though and the leaves are a funny ole mess when they drop in the autumn but on the whole I think it’s a nice attraction in the centre of our village.”

  “It’s a haven for wildlife but a trap for litter when the wind blows.”

  “Those brambles be mighty laden back-end o’ the summer an’ make delicious jams an’ pies.”

  “Well, it’s been there all my life and long before me, as far as I am aware, and I guess it will outlive my children. I need to cross over to the butchers, must get something for dinner. I’ll see you later, ’bye.”

  “It will be so good when Emma opens the coffee shop. We’ll have somewhere to meet and chat when we’ve been up to the school.”

  “Not long now.”

  “Can’t come soon enough for me.”

  The bell jangled as Rachel Durrant pushed open the door and entered the shop. “Morning, Aunt Rosalie.”

  “Good morning, Rachel, morning Sue, RK,” Rosalie affably greeted her customers.

  “We were just longing for the day Emma opens for coffee.”

  “Surely you’re too busy to spend time chatting over coffee.”

  “Don’t you believe it, we’d make time,” Rachel quipped.

  They all laughed.

  The young women went in different directions down the aisles in the shop to select the grocery items each had come in for.

  RK searched for something for the Catton children’s tea and then hovered over the delicatessen counter to choose a fish dish for her own evening meal.

  “Does it feel good to be stocking up your own store cupboard, RK?” Rachel leant across to select a pie for her family’s meal.

  “Mmm! Incredibly good!” RK replied with a grin that stretched across her face.

  Rachel laughed, “You look like a cat that has found the cream.”

  “You may laugh but it is so wonderful to have a place I can call my own.”

  As far as the clandestine purchase of Kezia’s Wood was concerned not one word leaked out. The quiet talks behind closed doors remained private and contained. Even the speculative stranger’s presence only triggered ripples of interest in the village for a day or so and certainly didn’t link in any one’s mind with definite plans to change the well established woodland. For Doctor John negotiations went more smoothly than he could possibly have anticipated and a week the following Friday morning he received a phone call from Adam Catton.

  “I’m finalizing all the legal aspects of the purchase but I do require your signature. Could you come into the office? Say, Wednesday at 10.30?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Within a few days RK was settled happily into Ferry Cottage. Relief flooded through her that finding somewhere suitable to stay was sorted out so quickly. Discord was an uneasy bedfellow and one that had caused her to retreat to Newton Westerby in the first place. She paused by the doorway and viewed the room before her with pleasure. I do hope this arrangement will appease those villagers who objected most vociferously to the frequent noise of my motorbike.

  Glad of the space the cottage gave, RK delighted in setting out her meagre possessions to her satisfaction. She walked to the kitche
n window and fingered the curtains Christina and Trixie had hung up for her after the big clean-up. If she wasn’t mistaken it was a Crowson fabric, delicately patterned with meadow flowers and butterflies, and led the eye straight into the garden. Davi would just love this she mused as thoughts of her country-loving sister fluttered into her mind.

  For the first time in her life RK had her own home and revelled in the freedom and independence she felt as she walked along the lane towards the cottage door at the end of each working day. She appreciated the hospitality so generously extended to her by the Jenner family but the accommodation at the Mill was geared primarily to short stay visitors and, whilst she enjoyed working with the Catton children, entering the cottage every evening and closing the door behind her, brought a sense of peace and contentment.

  From the kitchen window, through the garden, there was a clear view across the beach to the rolling waves of the sea. To satisfy her insatiable appetite for the sea RK repositioned the table and chair, so that, when eating her breakfast and evening meal she could look out of the window and enjoy the changing patterns of sunrise and the dusk of evening as each danced on the restless water.

  True to their word, Trixie and Tessa had ensured that, by the end of the week, RK had all she needed to make the cottage comfortable and cosy. She was amazed that in so short a space of time the two-up and two-down began to feel like her home. RK wrapped her arms contentedly around her chest and breathed a deep sigh of relief. No more kowtowing to the whims of my sisters or giving in to the demands of my parents. I can please myself. Maybe invite some of my new friends for coffee or a supper evening. That thought gave RK tremendous pleasure.

  Throughout her childhood and teenage years inviting friends home to the farm had been actively discouraged by her parents. Tasks about the farm always took precedence over all else. “Chores first then you can play,” was her father’s adage but he kept them so busy there never was time for social activities. So, she looked forward to repaying the kindness so many of her new friends had willingly offered to her since her arrival in Newton Westerby.