Indian Summer

by Marcia Willett

  She smiled then, rather sadly but a smile all the same. ‘You sound like Mungo,’ she said.

  ‘Well, then.’ He watched Billy examining one of Joe’s engines, turning it carefully in his good hand while Joe stood at his knee, talking.

  ‘Don’t go just yet,’ Emma said. ‘Or – is Billy OK? Should you be getting him home?’

  ‘Reckon he’ll do a while yet,’ he answered comfortably. ‘How about another cup of tea?’

  Now, sitting on the bench, he remembers the glow of pleasure, even triumph, he felt at seeing her smile of gratitude: an old lion defending his territory, his family. And he hopes that Marcus has reached home safely – wherever home is.

  ‘Nice little maid,’ Billy said contentedly, as Philip wheeled him home. ‘Nice little family. You did well there, boy. Chancing his arm, was he?’

  ‘Trying it on,’ Philip said. ‘Showed him up. He won’t be back.’

  Odd how he felt confident about that. No young man likes to be humiliated in front of a young woman by an older man. He still felt strong; invigorated by the encounter. And then, just after they got back inside, young Andy arrived with a proposition. He sat at the kitchen table, eager and strong and young, and told his grandfather his hopes and dreams.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about stuff, Granddad. I’d like to make a start on my own and I was talking to Dad about whether I could, you know, move down here with you and Uncle Billy, and get the farm up and working again. Get some stock back in. I’d still keep up my contract work and the logging, but then later, if I made a go of it and Archie agreed, and you were OK with it, I could take over the farm tenancy after you.’

  He talked sensibly, seeing the need to diversify, but his love for the place was clear and his enthusiasm was catching. Philip promised to think about it, said he’d have a word with Archie, and now he sits wondering how Mungo is planning to work out the problem in the orchard. If Andy were to take over the farm it might never arise – but the risk would always be there.

  Star appears out of the shadows and pushes her head against his knee. He fondles her ears and murmurs to her: ‘Good girl, then. Good girl.’ She presses close to him and together they watch the moon rise beyond the hedge, sailing up above the ash trees, pouring its light into this valley where Judds have farmed for generations.

  Supposing Mags were to be right and Archie were to build houses in the orchard so that, instead of this deep silence and velvet darkness, there were to be the noise of televisions, the blaze of lights, cars coming and going? For the moment even the discovery of Ralph’s body and the scandal that might follow seem as nothing when set against the destruction of his own small piece of this ancient valley.

  Philip gets up and, with Star close beside him, goes inside.

  James is packing ready for his weekend back in Oxford. He’s looking forward to being at home with Sally, telling her about the progress of the book. Actually he’s beginning to wonder if there’s much more to be achieved here. The peace and simplicity is magical but he suspects that he needs a bit more action; a touch of city life, the sound of police sirens, a sight of feral youth. Nothing happens here to stimulate his imagination when it comes to the seamier side of life. It’s been very useful to drive and walk around the location, and it’s a real blessing to have the space to write for as long as he likes whenever the moment strikes, but perhaps he’s ready to move on. He needs a bigger canvas, a much wider world, so as to touch the hearts and minds of people; to change even one life for good. This is his secret longing: to make a difference. But it won’t happen here in this forgotten valley.

  He goes downstairs to write to Sally.

  Looking forward to getting home. I’ve decided to make an early start so I shall definitely be back in time for lunch! I want to get on this evening with some writing while I’ve got a few more ideas fresh in my mind. You know what it’s like! Then I shall be ready for a break. In fact, I’m wondering if you could come down for a couple of days next week just to have some time here together before I finally pack up. You’ve got a few days’ holiday due to you, haven’t you? We could have that little party I talked about and invite all the neighbours. I know Camilla would be delighted to see you. I think she’s secretly hoping that she might appear in the book but I can’t imagine any of them fitting into my character list, let alone being involved in my plot! It’s a very stereotypical little hamlet – apart from Sir Mungo, of course, but I suspect he spends much of his time in London. I’ve just had a chat with Emma next door. They were having a little tea party in the garden with old Billy and Philip when I got home earlier. I had a little peek over the wall and you’ll never guess who was there! The weird chap I’ve been seeing around. All good mates together, friend of the family, so that’s all cleared up. I couldn’t believe my eyes for a moment and just stood there staring at him in amazement. Hope he didn’t think I was being rude. Anyway, I went round after they’d all gone to say I was off again and to mention that we might be having a party when I got back. Emma’s very nice, very laid-back, and the little boy offered me a Smartie cake. You’ll like him and the baby. We’ll probably have to have them at the party, too, if she can’t get a babysitter! Still, it’ll give them all a bit of excitement in their quiet lives. They all know about the books and I think I’m almost as much of a celeb as Sir Mungo!! Looking forward to hearing all your news.

  Back to work. See you soon. J xx

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EMMA WAKENS EARLY, even before Joe or Dora stirs. She goes out quietly, listens for a moment at the bottom of the attic stairs, and creeps down into the kitchen. The cakes have all been eaten but the painting of Bozzy and Sam is fixed by magnets to the fridge. Emma opens the door into the garden and stands outside, breathing in the cool air, seeing the monochrome flicker of a magpie’s wing high in the beech tree.

  They Skyped Rob last evening; Joe chattering away excitedly about his morning with Camilla and the Smartie cakes, whilst Dora waved her fists and crowed, and then Emma told Rob about Mungo and Philip and the tea party.

  ‘So did you go to the zoo with Marcus?’ he asked later – and she was able to dismiss it quite nonchalantly, saying that it had all been a rather silly joke, and then asking whether he thought that his mother might like to come for a visit.

  ‘I’m sure she’d like to see the cottage and I know how much she’s missing your dad. What d’you think?’

  ‘She’d love it,’ he said. ‘That’s a brilliant idea, Ems. I only wish I could be there too.’

  ‘So do we,’ she said. ‘But you will be before too long.’

  Then they talked of what they’d do when he came home. Joe showed him the picture he’d painted of Sammy and Boz and then it was over and she had to deal with an overexcited bath-time, and Joe becoming suddenly weepy at bedtime because he wanted Daddy home.

  Now, Emma thinks of Marcus, how Philip dealt with him, and she wonders if he is right when he says that Marcus will not be back. She longs to believe it, her instinct tells her that it is true, but she daren’t trust it. She almost feels that she doesn’t deserve to be let off so lightly. It was such luck that Philip and Billy were with her when he turned up, and amazing that Philip was so ready to come to her defence – rather as Mungo had earlier. He phoned to tell her that Marcus’ mobile was now at the bottom of Venford Reservoir and that she could relax.

  How angry Marcus must be: how frustrated and humiliated. Two old men, Mungo and Philip, have bested him. She can feel sympathy for Marcus now. After all, she encouraged him with her silly flirtatiousness; she is as much to blame. She wonders where he is, hoping that he will be going to see his boys and Tasha, and praying that perhaps he might be able to have some loving future with them. She can see now that all this has probably been an attempt on his part to restore his wounded pride; to show that he is still love-worthy.

  As she stands in the garden, in the early morning peace, she regrets her foolishness and knows it is only because of Mungo’s support and Philip’s quick
reactions that she has got away with it. She’s been let off the hook. Now, she and Rob and the children will be able to be happy here in this cottage, surrounded by their new friends. She is safe and free.

  Kit is awake, too. She lies in bed, thinking about Jake and how the three of them and Mopsa walked back home through the late summer evening. They linked arms. Kit, between Mungo and Jake, was aware of the man on each side of her and of their tensions and preoccupations. She could guess at Jake’s thoughts, his mental attempts to see a way forward for them both, but she was still unable to detect a reason for Mungo’s preoccupation.

  Back at the smithy he took Jake to inspect his quarters in the barn and then went off to bed, leaving Kit and Jake feeling awkward and embarrassed. Kit found it utterly impossible to be natural and easy in Mungo’s kitchen. It was out of the question either to invite Jake upstairs or to follow him into the barn.

  Instead, she muttered something silly, kissed his cheek and went upstairs with Mopsa trailing her, leaving Jake to find his way to his room.

  Now, after a restless night, she makes a decision. If she wants a future with Jake she must stop allowing her nerves to get the better of her: she must take a risk. The next step needs to be taken, not in her London flat or in Jake’s Paris apartment, but on neutral ground. It needs to be taken spontaneously and with generosity, and she wants to be the one to make the first move: to make the commitment.

  Kit remembers Mungo’s comment: ‘When you get old you need a good sense of humour when it comes to sex.’

  She gets out of bed and stares at herself in the mirror, picking up her brush to smooth out the tangles in her fine, feathery hair. She stares a bit longer, makes an encouraging face at herself, and turns away. Pulling on her dressing gown, Kit goes downstairs, leaving Mopsa still asleep on the bed. Quietly she slips into the kitchen and passes through the interconnecting door to the barn. Outside Jake’s bedroom door she hesitates, then she turns the handle and goes in. He is sitting propped against the pillows, a mug of coffee in his hand, and he begins to laugh as she shuts the door behind her.

  ‘What kept you?’ he asks, putting down the mug.

  And she laughs, too, as she gets in beside him and huddles into his arms.

  Mungo sees Kit’s bedroom door is open and Mopsa curled on the empty bed. He calls to her and she raises her head and then jumps off the bed and follows him downstairs. There is no sign of Kit or Jake, and Mungo opens the back door for Mopsa and makes coffee, which he drinks standing up. Part of him thinks of Kit and Jake in the barn with relief that the next difficult step has probably been taken, but uppermost in his mind is the interview he must have with Archie. He has spent most of the night rehearsing the scene, just as Philip described it to him, but he knows that he must speak to Archie quickly now before he makes his move and applies for planning permission, and he is overcome with dread.

  He knows where he will find him, though. Archie will take the dogs up on to the moor for their morning walk and Mungo has every intention of being there to intercept him so that they can talk in private. He also has some idea that being outside will be advantageous; that out there, on the moor, Archie will be more open to a forgiving and understanding approach than in their father’s study with his stern, unbending influence all around them.

  He swallows down his coffee, picks up Mopsa’s lead and goes out into the lane, passing the old Herm, turning up the track that leads on to the open moor.

  Archie stands in the heather, staring at his younger brother, too shocked to speak. The dogs run together, higher up on the ancient sheep tracks, barking for the sheer joy of it.

  ‘I knew nothing about it,’ Mungo repeats. ‘Nothing at all until Philip told me the day before yesterday. It was an accident, Archie. I’m not condoning it, for God’s sake, but try to see it in the right context. Philip panicked and Billy took control. And you have to admit that Philip’s right when he says the media would have had a field day and all of us would have been involved. Me, you, Camilla and the boys. Once they started asking questions Izzy would have completely buckled. It would all have come out. The baby, the rows, me hitting Ralph.’

  ‘But why were there no questions asked at the time? How was he just allowed to vanish?’

  Mungo takes a deep breath. Archie is very angry and he must tread warily.

  ‘First, remember, Ralph had no family. Second, the whole point was that he was leaving to go to America the following week. Izzy told him about the baby just when he’d been invited to audition for some show in New York. Clearly he decided to leave her to it and go, but he didn’t tell anyone until the very last minute. He and I were rehearsing in Manchester and Izzy was in Bristol, staying with a friend, when he broke the news. She phoned in floods of tears, absolutely desperate, pleading with me to make Ralph change his mind. I decided to chance one last throw. Ralph was all set to leave for London so I drove him down here, picking Izzy up on the way through Bristol. He told me it was pointless, that he had no intention of acknowledging the child, but I suppose he felt he had nothing to lose. I think it almost amused him. Ralph could be very cruel. Well, it didn’t work. In fact, it made things worse. He was brutal to Izzy and in the end I told him to get out. I’ve told you the rest, but the point was that Ralph was leaving us. He had his case with him. Nobody expected to see him again. Not for a bit, anyway. Of course we all wondered what had happened when he dropped so completely out of sight but America’s a big place and we didn’t expect him back. Well, Izzy did. She hoped he’d change his mind and come home. And then she lost the baby a few weeks later.

  ‘The point is we all believed he’d gone. Taken the train to London, caught the plane and was out in America. Yes, we all said from time to time that it was a bit hurtful that he never sent so much as a card, but none of us imagined he was dead.’

  Archie still stares angrily at him. ‘But what the hell do we do?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it ever since Philip told me and I come back to my original offer. If we want to prevent any future scandal I suggest that I buy the farm from you at open-market value and you put a restrictive covenant on the orchard that forbids any kind of development. If I die your boys will inherit but the covenant remains in place.’

  ‘Are you serious? And that’s it? Put a covenant on the orchard and quietly forget that Ralph’s buried on my land?’

  Mungo watches his elder brother. He’s seen Archie like this before: he hates anything illegal, underhand. It will be a terrible thing for him to let this remain unresolved.

  ‘What’s to be gained?’ Mungo asks quietly. ‘Justice for Ralph at the expense of Philip’s freedom and my reputation? And what about you and Camilla getting involved? Can you imagine the press crawling all over this valley, Archie? OK, Philip killed Ralph. It was manslaughter. But you might say it was because Ralph left Izzy so brutally and refused to take any responsibility that she lost her child six weeks later. A life for a life. It’s forty years ago, Archie. It was an accident; it was freezing cold and the Land Rover slid on the ice, but it would be very difficult to prove that now, wouldn’t it? Can you picture Billy and Philip in court? And then, of course, there would be other people who would remember the rows Ralph and Izzy had, and how closely connected I was to them both. The media would embellish the whole story with lies and lurid speculation. To what end?’

  He can see Archie struggling with it: his heart telling him one thing, his head another.

  ‘But what am I supposed to say to Philip?’

  There is a little silence. ‘Perhaps nothing to begin with,’ suggests Mungo. ‘Until you’ve come to terms with it. That’s assuming you agree with my idea.’

  ‘I have no choice,’ mutters Archie angrily. ‘I can’t risk Camilla. Or you.’

  ‘I started it all,’ Mungo said. ‘Bringing them down here, getting so closely involved with them.’

  Archie shakes his head impatiently. ‘Don’t be a fool. We loved seeing your friends, especially Izzy. I have to say I never care
d much for Ralph.’ He looks quickly at Mungo, guiltily. ‘Not that I’d have wished that on him, poor devil.’

  ‘Of course not. Are we agreed then? I buy the farm and when we do the legal stuff you put the covenant in place. You know about all that better than I do. It will give you some ready cash to make up for what you might have got from developing the orchard, and to do the work you need to do and take some pressure off.’

  Still Archie hesitates. Mungo waits as his brother tries to deal with his conscience.

  ‘I don’t want Camilla to know, though,’ he says.

  And Mungo sighs inwardly with relief and knows the battle is won.

  ‘I agree. It’s very hard having a secret like this but the fewer people know, the better. I wish it hadn’t been necessary for either of us to know.’

  ‘Tough for Philip,’ says Archie unexpectedly. ‘He’s been living with it all these years, poor devil. Trust Billy to get him into trouble.’

  ‘I think that Billy thought he was protecting us all. He could see just what a disaster it could be and that’s why he stopped Philip calling for help. Not that it would have done Ralph any good. It was too late.’

  He can see that Archie is nearly convinced. They turn and begin to walk back to the house together, the dogs running ahead.

  ‘The old valley’s seen worse than this,’ Mungo says. ‘At least it was an accident. Can you imagine how many bodies must be buried around here from way back? The feuds. The battles.’ He glances at his brother. ‘Will you be OK – you know what I mean – having to go back to Camilla and be ordinary?’

  ‘I don’t have much choice,’ replies Archie grumpily. ‘Look, come up later on and we’ll discuss the details about you buying the farm.’ He hesitates. ‘And thanks, Mungo. It’s very generous of you. From that point of view Camilla will be delighted. She was dreading the thought of leaving.’

  ‘It was very generous of you to give me the smithy all those years ago. I just wish it hadn’t finished like this.’