by Gloria Cook
Will had revealed a side that Jill would never have dreamt he owned. Apart from the understandable concerns of Mrs Em bearing a baby at forty-two years old, Jill thought it a shame he was otherwise troubled.
‘Silly isn’t it?’ he went on. ‘When I’m on a mission, or thinking about how dangerous my next one’s likely to be, I think about them worrying about me, and it makes me worry like hell about them. I mean, what if something was to happen to one of them? Uncle Tris’s wife was killed because of this damned war. She stepped out into the road without realizing there was a motor car there with its lights dimmed out. Kaput! She was killed instantly. Gone in a second. Lottie and Mum and Tom and the others work half the time in the dark. One of them might become victim of a terrible accident. Sorry, I’m getting morbid. I’m glad you don’t have to worry about your Ronnie being involved in the fighting at the moment.’
‘Yes,’ Jill said gloomily. ‘But I wish he would write.’
Will placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He longed to put his arm round her. Both his arms to offer her comfort, and he needed comfort too. Another’s gentle touch. But his earlier advances forbade it. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s OK.’
‘It’s a pity you’ve never known a close family life as I have. I’d never appreciated it until the war started. Through most of my childhood I’d expected to inherit the farm and all my father’s property, but just before he died he changed his will, leaving everything to Mum. I felt a fool. I resented it. Was quite often difficult with her after that, as if blaming her. I love her very much. I hope to have her see me settle down, but well… the odds are against me surviving this war. Tom and Lottie can give her grandchildren. She’ll love that. She deserves it.’
In the dim light, Jill could swear tears were glistening in his eyes. ‘Have you told your mother you love her?’
‘Not in years. Can’t now. Not really, can I?’
‘Why not?’
‘Mum would think I was fearing the worst. That I knew my number was about to come up. That I was saying goodbye to her for good. Couldn’t do that to her.’
‘Oh, yes. I understand.’
‘Tom was right about you, Jill. You are a good sort. It’s a comfort to know you’re here at the farm, that everyone likes and trusts you. Jill, if I write a letter to Mum, just in case… I mean, if I am killed, would you give it to her for me?’
‘Yes, Will, of course.’
‘Thanks. I hope that you’ll know lasting happiness with Ronnie.’
‘Thank you.’
There wasn’t any need for more words, so they stayed silent until they went back inside.
Chapter Nine
Emilia strode into the cobbled yard of Tremore Farm, having been told at the big house it was where she would find Ben. One of the land girls, driving a tractor out to the fields, shouted to her that he was attending a birth in the calving shed.
She found him with the sleeves of his striped shirt rolled up nearly to his shoulders, crouching, while vigorously rubbing a handful of straw over a newly born addition to his herd of pedigree shorthorns. He was gaunt, a shadow of what he had once been, what he should be. His hair was tumbling across his brow in the way it had done in his youth, but he looked old and beaten. She went up close to him, making plenty of noise so he knew he was no longer alone.
Caring for the new life in his hands, while casting anxious glances at the heifer, who was struggling to remain standing on the slippery floor, he couldn’t see whose company he had gained. ‘Who is it?’
‘Emilia. You’re going to need a hand with the cow. I’ll fetch fresh straw.’
Ben whirled his head round so she was in full vision. ‘What the hell are you doing here? What gives you the right to think you can trespass on my land?’
Emilia made an impatient expression, as if she was gazing down on a difficult child, a nuisance. ‘Must you always be beastly? I’ve come to talk to you.’
‘You never talk to me unless you can possibly help it, any more than I do to you. Come to poke your nose into something that’s none of your business, is what you mean. I know that stubborn look in your eyes. Well, you can bugger off! Turn straight round and take yourself back to the other side of the village. I won’t tolerate your uppity ways. You always were a bossy cow.’
‘I’ve never been uppity in my life and well you know it. I won’t go until I’ve said what I’ve come to say. You know that too. So you might as well listen. I’ll fetch the straw.’
‘No you won’t!’ Despite his anger he couldn’t help being interested in why she had come to him, something that hadn’t happened for years. And again, despite his hostile feelings for her, Emilia was always worth looking at. She was earthily beautiful, unconsciously sensual; she had something of a warrior queen about her. She would always hold a powerful draw to him. He was taken back down the years to when she had made a similar appearance, then, like now, in early pregnancy; her first pregnancy back then, having just married Alec. She’d come to take him to task over his treatment of an old friend of hers, a girl he’d been engaged to, and she’d been stricken with pains and had feared she’d miscarry. He had been kind to her that day, had taken her home and made sure Alec and the doctor had been sent for. What would he do today if she was taken ill? Did he hate her so much that he’d rather leave her to suffer? He didn’t want to find out. ‘Shout for someone to help in here. Then I’ll allow you five minutes and not a second more!’
Ben’s longest-serving employee, a mannish woman called Eliza Shore, answered Emilia’s shouts. Ben wouldn’t hear of Emilia helping them with the struggle to right the cow on to its four legs. Emilia waited for them outside, taking in Ben’s property. When he had bought Tremore, cheating Alec out of its purchase, it had consisted of a few run-down buildings, small acreage and the former Tremore steward’s dwelling, now the big house, which he’d had greatly extended and modernized. The farmstead was also extended and well equipped and he owned almost every field, meadow, hedgerow and tree stretching into each horizon. Here and there his land converged with hers. The walls here in the yard were chalked with ‘V for Victory’ signs. Emilia was sure Ben would have done it himself.
‘Haven’t seen ’ee here for ages, Mrs Em,’ Eliza Shore deliberated, foregoing a trip to the yard pump and wiping her huge soiled hands down her baggy corduroy trousers, then through her hair, which was dry and grey and had a hacked-off appearance. Although past retiring age she was healthy and strong. She towered over Emilia. She blew her thread-veined nose on a dirty hanky. ‘Haven’t come with bad news, I hope.’
‘It’s not bad news, Eliza.’
‘So Will’s all right then? Fine young man he is. And Jonny. You can be proud of your Tom too. Now he do give the maids some runaround but he’s good and kind to the core.’ Eliza shot her boss, who was emerging from the calving shed, tight-faced and clench-fisted, a meaningful look. ‘You’ve got a lovely daughter too, Mrs Em. Your children are a credit to you. And you are a blessing to them.’
‘Thank you, Eliza.’
‘On your way, Eliza. I don’t pay you to stand about spouting useless nonsense,’ Ben snarled at her. He had washed his hands and arms in the bucket of soapy water in the calving shed and was rolling his sleeves down to his elbows.
Eliza was unruffled. She had worked for the farm’s previous owner and had given ‘no nevermind’ to everyone in a superior position all her life. She saw the man she still thought of as ‘Young Mr Ben’ as misguided and sadly lonely. She searched behind her ear and was rewarded with a cigarette stub. Slowly and calmly she stuck it between her rough lips. ‘I’m going inside t’get my crib. Been hard at it since an ungodly hour and I’m bleddy parched. G’day to ’ee, Mrs Em. My prayers go with the young men.’ Eliza plodded away.
‘I’m glad to see there’s someone else who isn’t intimidated by your snappy tongue,’ Emilia said.
‘Five minutes,’ Ben warned, breathing heavily.
‘It’s about Faye. She came to see me
yesterday.’
‘Straight to the point as usual, eh, Emilia? I thought it couldn’t be about anyone else but her.’ He tossed his head. ‘What did she want with you?’
‘She asked for advice, about how she could talk to you and get you to listen to her.’
‘What about?’ he huffed.
‘I don’t know. She didn’t go on to confide in me but she obviously needs to confide in you,’ Emilia snapped impatiently. ‘She seems quite troubled. You need to give her some of your precious time, Ben.’
‘Faye isn’t any of your affair.’
‘She is. She’s family. She’s—’
‘She’s not a member of your family!’ he hurled at her, storming off, then shouting back, ‘You were just a dairymaid when my brother married you and now you’re a bloody Bosweld!’
His venom left Emilia blinking. He was shaking in rage but she went after him. ‘You thought me good enough to marry you back-along. And it makes no difference who I’m married to now. It was painfully clear how unhappy Faye was yesterday.’ He kept striding on, leaving her behind, so she ran to catch him up and reached out and grabbed his arm.
Ben halted, spun round and faced her, his face a theatre of fury.
She snatched away her hand, not so sure of herself now but still determined to tackle him. ‘Faye is your daughter and young Alec is your son. I don’t know what went on between you and Brooke all those years ago but Faye is here now, by choice, staying under your roof, and it’s time you stopped treating her like a stranger. Like she’s someone detestable to you. Do you want to risk losing her for good? What on earth is the matter with you, Ben? Is your heart so dark and cold that you don’t care about her at all? If you don’t start showing her some interest soon, she might pack her bags and never come back. Do you really want to die a lonely old man?’
‘Why should you care about how I die? If I dropped dead this instant you’d celebrate. You want to know what it’s all about, do you, Emilia? Are you really sure about that?’
His colour was so high, his expression so fierce, she recoiled. He’d repeated many times over the years that he hated her but she hadn’t realized he’d felt so strongly. ‘What’s this got to do with me? What has your shunning of Faye and disowning of Alec to do with me?’
For a very long time Ben had wanted to see Emilia without her usual fighting spirit. With pleasure he watched as her stately bearing melted a little. He wanted to hurt her badly and he wanted to do it so much, he thought he’d rather die on the spot than be denied the triumph. Why had he kept his secret for so long? Why had he let his pride rule him, when, instead, he could have seen the confidence, the annoying edge of superiority, wiped off the face of this woman years ago? He had once loved her more than anyone else, but witnessing her love for Perry Bosweld, just a few weeks after his brother’s death, losing the second chance he’d hoped to have with her, had shattered his ability to ever love again.
He clawed through the air and seized the hand that had had the affront to grab him. Sliding his grip down to her wrist, he held on tight. ‘You asked for the truth and now you’re going to get it! Every last tiny bit of it and I hope every word chokes you. I hope it shakes your cosy little world so badly that you’ll never know a minute’s peace, that it makes you as miserable as I am. Well, here it comes, Emilia. Faye’s brother is not my son. He’s really Alec Harvey the second. Alec’s bastard! And before you accuse me of being a liar, let me tell you that Brooke told me this herself. She’d had a fling with Alec. It was just the once, but the child couldn’t be mine because, remember, she was refusing to give me another child, fearing another miscarriage. Yet she lay down on the river bank for Alec, conceived and happily carried his damnable brat! And do you know what’s really funny, Emilia? All the while you were carrying on your sordid secret affair with your precious Perry Bosweld, Alec had screwed my wife. That’s why Alec left you the farm. Not out of some great love for you, but because he was feeling guilty!’
Horror and shock rooted Emilia to the spot. She hadn’t taken a breath for several seconds and was forced to gulp in air. Ben let her go. He went in and out of her vision. She staggered past him to the pump, lowered herself down on to the side of the granite horse trough below it. She felt dizzy and nauseous and kept her eyes shut. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She was aware of Ben coming up to her, staying at a dispassionate distance. He said nothing.
Moments ticked by like hours. Finally she gazed up at him. He was staring at her, his stony grey eyes moving as he watched for her expression. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of allowing him to see how much hurt she was suffering. That even yet she hadn’t absorbed the full force of what he’d launched at her. ‘I take it Faye doesn’t know any of this?’
He shook his head.
‘Why haven’t you told her?
‘I don’t want to talk to her. I never want to listen to her. I’d rather she left despising me.’
‘Why? I can understand why you’ve no interest in her brother, but she’s your flesh and blood! Are you so sure you don’t want some sort of relationship with her? You escorted her so brightly into the dance. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Still asking questions. Still poking your nose into where it isn’t welcome. Let me just say that nothing’s made sense in my life for a good many years, Emilia.’ His taunting expression turned into one of sneering. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me how you feel about Alec? What he did to you?’
Calling on the inner strength that had rarely let her down, mustering her dignity, Emilia rose, resting a steadying hand on the pump. ‘Do you really think I’d share my personal feelings with you? And what have you actually said, Ben? You’ve told me some truths, truths that I’d rather not have heard, and that’s all. And all that you’ve done for yourself is to gloat. There’s nothing to congratulate yourself over. I pity you, Ben Harvey. Back in your youth it seemed you were as fine as the young men Eliza not long ago remarked about. Now you’re bitter and all eaten away. And all because you’re jealous. You once thought you were in love with me but you couldn’t possibly have been. You weren’t capable of loving anyone even back then. You envy anyone who has more of anything than yourself, for having anything that you think you want. You are the most selfish person I know and for that I pity you.’
She stepped away from the pump and was relieved her legs were able to hold her up. His face was blank. As if there was no life behind it. She said, walking away, ‘Whatever happens, I’ll never set foot on your land again. And I don’t expect you to ever come near mine.’
Ben remained rooted to the ground for five minutes. The same length of time he’d got to glory in triumph over Emilia. Now it was all gone and he was desolate. He saw his life for what it was. A failure. Barren. Futile. In reality he had nothing. He was nothing. Struck by a terrible numbness, on legs like cardboard he stumbled out into the lane, leaned against the hedge, and with hands that trembled like an old man’s he scrabbled for a cigarette. He didn’t light up because he couldn’t breathe. There was a terrible tightness in his chest, his guts had turned to water and he broke out in a sweat. The hedge across the road, the dusty ground, swam in and out of sight. He thought he was going to die. Hoped he was. Anything was better than this revolting emptiness.
Gradually he felt a little strength returning to his beleaguered limbs and his sight cleared. He managed to light up but he couldn’t stop shaking. He was cold, as if he’d been left outside naked in a storm. He was certainly exposed. Exposed for what he was. Emilia had seen to that.
He walked off like a drunkard. In the opposite direction to home. He trudged on and on. Keeping in the lanes. Slowly, he was able to pick up pace. Until he was jogging. Then running. Running as if for his life. He could run for ever but it was impossible to get away from the one person he wanted most of all to leave behind. Himself.
* * *
Faye was whispering down the telephone. ‘So I can come up tomorrow and make the arrangements to take him off your hands? Oh
, thank God! I’ve missed him so much. I can’t thank you enough, Mrs McPherson. I shall get on the next available train. When Simon wakes up from his nap give him a kiss from me. Tell him Mummy loves him.’
She packed an overnight bag. Supper time arrived. She went downstairs to the dining room, endeavouring to keep her excitement in check. There was a space at the head of the table. ‘Has my father not come in, Uncle Tris?’
‘No sign of him yet,’ Tristan tried to put some brightness in his reply. In contrast to Ford Farm there was a strained atmosphere here. Jonny was all for returning across the village. ‘Agnes says we’re having yesterday’s leftovers. She’s made it into a fish envelope. Can’t really keep it warm.’
‘That’s strange,’ Faye frowned. ‘I haven’t got to know him very well but one thing he is keen on is punctuality.’
The meal was eaten. Darkness fell and Jonny poured tiny whisky nightcaps. ‘He must be tucked up somewhere with a woman and forgot to mention he wasn’t coming home.’
‘But he’s in his working clothes,’ Faye said, wishing she could peep out of the blackout blinds and see if he was on his way.
‘I don’t think it’s likely Ben’s come to any harm,’ Tristan said.
No, he’s just being awkward, Faye thought grimly.
She stayed awake all night hoping to hear him come in. Each excruciating hour stretched on – one hour less to try to commit him to an all-important talk. Just before dawn she wondered about waking Tristan and confiding in him. She didn’t think he’d be too shocked by her confession that she had a child, but he behaved unreasonably towards Louisa, so she cancelled him out. There was no point in telling Jonny. What could he do? It was looking as if she’d have to go away and keep her secret a little longer. She hated secrets. She had been at the receiving end of a very humiliating one.