by C F Dunn
“Don’t you want a go, Alex?” Beth asked her son.
He turned away from her. “Riding is for sissies,” he snarled, and a coil of bile green escaped from him and wound into the ether.
“Oh Alex,” Beth said, but she had no more an idea of what to do than I had.
“Do you remember how we were?” I asked her quietly.
“Yes,” she said, “that’s what’s worrying me.”
We were alone once the children had been herded towards the Barn for tea before returning to their house. Matthew removed the saddle and slung it over the fence rail.
“He’s jealous,” I said, “and it’s eating him up inside.”
Matthew drew his hand over Lizzie’s flanks, checking for abrasions before letting her loose to join Ollie as he grazed the far paddock. “It reminds me of Harry and Joel when they were about the same age. Do you know what’s making him envious?”
The day’s warmth lifted dew from the evening grass, and the earth smelled fresh and clean. I leant against the fence as the low sun enriched the western sky and wondered how resentment could blind someone to so much beauty.
“Everything,” I said finally. “Everything – and nothing. I feel so helpless. I want to do something, but it’s like history’s repeating itself.”
He hoisted the saddle and together we walked back towards the tack room. “History doesn’t repeat itself exactly though, does it? The problems might remain the same, but it’s the individuals who determine the outcome, and they’re always different.”
Perhaps. Perhaps not. Whatever the case I couldn’t bear the thought of sitting back and watching spite spiral into rank hatred.
CHAPTER
17
Making Amends
Ellie left for a double shift at the med centre that would take her through the night. It was something she was accustomed to doing, and she would have worked longer if her unusual stamina hadn’t attracted comments. So now she did the occasional extra shift and feigned tiredness. Gradually, I grew used to the differences in the family, but every now and again I forgot because they looked so normal, until one of them did something that reminded me how very different they actually were.
On form after a good night’s sleep, the children were drawing on their father’s reserves of patience at a rate exceeding its replenishment. He growled, but the twins continued to jostle each other around the heavy picnic hampers packed and waiting by the Barn’s back door.
Matthew shouldered a couple of the baskets and looked around. “We need to keep an eye on the children. The river’s high at the moment and I don’t want them near it alone. Joel, did I hear you won’t be joining us?”
“Meeting with Mom and Dad first,” Joel grunted. “I’ll get this stuff down there – by the willows, right?”
“If you would, thanks.” Matthew glanced at Beth, who struggled to balance a wriggling Archie on her hip. “Henry, perhaps you could take the baby; it’s quite a way to walk.”
“I’d be delighted.” Henry held out his hands, and Archie, having gazed solemnly at him, broke into a broad smile. Beth stretched her arms above her head to relieve her aching back as Archie began investigating Henry’s beard, scrabbling his fingers through it much to Henry’s amusement. I wondered whether the baby saw through his disguise more easily than adults, who saw only what they wanted to see.
“Come on, you two.” I held out a hand each to the twins. “Quick, march. Let’s see if we can beat everyone down there. What shall we be – legionary soldiers in Hadrian’s army, or Caesar’s invasion force? Venite – Sin… dex… sin… dex…” We marched out of the Barn, around the corner of the house, and down the slope towards the river, where we had feasted on spit roast pig that winter night in the snow.
We heard the river long before we saw it. It chewed the banks, frothing around rocks that stood in its path, rumbling as it churned the stony bed.
Several folding chairs already waited by Joel’s basket about a hundred yards from the river, where a bend made a promontory on which grew lush and inviting grass, thickly studded with flowers.
Matthew eased the baskets down. The bruised grass smelled fresh and clean under the clear sky, and I inhaled deeply. “Mmm, this is de-licious – better than food. Who needs to eat when you have all this?” I opened my eyes. “Where are you two off to?”
The twins had drifted away, picking long-stemmed flowers they held in bunches. Every now and again they darted looks towards the trees where the river called. Matthew watched them as he unpacked the basket. “Alex, Flora, the river is dangerous; keep away from it unless there is someone with you, do you understand?”
“OK,” they sang. Flora added, “We’re picking flowers for tea.” She waved her bunch at him as they danced back through the grass, before handing them to me. “These are for you, Emma, ’cos you’re the bride.”
I kissed her sun-warmed cheek, all round and rosy. “Thank you, darling, they’re beautiful.”
“Are there fish in the river?” Alex asked, handing me his bunch and receiving my hug shyly. “Daddy said he would take us fishing at home, but it was raining and we didn’t go.”
“He said the fish would get wet.” Flora pulled a face. “That’s silly. Will you take us, Matthew? Emma said you would.”
I pursed my lips at the blatant fabrication. “Actually, Flora, I don’t believe I said any such thing. Nice try.”
She adopted a superior pout. “No, but you would have done if you’d thought about it. You didn’t think hard enough.”
“Cheeky minx,” I reprimanded, amazed at her sheer gall.
“You told a lie,” Alex accused, his eyebrows drawn together in a black line. “Mummy said you mustn’t tell lies, Flora.”
Flora stuck her tongue out at him. “Neagh, neagh, I did not. I just said that Emma would have said it if she’d thought about it. That’s not telling lies.”
Alex shook his finger. “You’re too stupid to know. Stupid, fat bubblehead.”
“Alex!” I cried as Flora’s eyes widened in hurt. Her teeth clamped angrily and she raised her fist. Matthew caught it before it engaged with her brother’s face.
“That’s enough – both of you.” He put his hands on Alex’s shoulders and turned him around to face him squarely. “Alex, that was unkind. Whatever you believed your sister to have done, she didn’t deserve that remark; it was hurtful.” And to Flora. “And you, young lady, don’t play games with the truth. Always be honest when you can – especially with your family. They must be able to trust what you say because one day it might be really important. Now,” he said, standing up as their parents approached, “I believe I told your aunt that I would teach her to tickle trout one day. How about it?”
“That sounds fun,” Beth panted as she flopped into a chair.
Flora screwed up her face. “But I want to go fishing.”
“It is fishing, dumm… Flora,” Alex quickly corrected himself. “Ben’s grandpa taught him – he told me so. Isn’t it, Matthew?”
Matthew riffled the boy’s dark hair. “It is indeed. Are you two going to help me set this up so our womenfolk can have somewhere comfortable to sit?”
“Well…” said Alex.
“Um…” Flora hummed, and the children’s eyes slid hopefully towards the river.
“As knights would have done for their ladies,” Matthew pointed out, “before they went fishing for trout.”
“O-K!” Alex shouted.
Flora plopped onto the grass. “I’m a lady and you have to look after me, Alex.”
Matthew hauled her to her feet, laughing. “Not yet, you’re not, and not if you want to go fishing later. Here, catch…” and he threw her a cushion to put on a chair for her grandmother.
Between us we spread the rugs on the ground and made a corral of the chair legs and baskets to prevent Archie from escaping. He practised his unsteady walking from one adult to the next, clapping his hands every time they applauded, his sun-gold hair shining. Pat and Mum soon fell to
discussing knitting patterns as Beth and the twins helped sort through the baskets.
Quieter than usual, Matthew watched the children from where we sat on the outskirts of the circle. Finally, he leant towards me. “How can I tell Flora not to lie in one breath, when every other I take is a fabrication? I’m such a hypocrite – it’s worse than the lying.” Archie tottered towards us over the rumply rugs and Matthew caught him, waiting until he found his balance again before letting go. “You do understand, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” I reassured him. “It’s not the same at all. I couldn’t love a liar and a hypocrite, and I certainly wouldn’t marry one.”
The light breeze stiffened, lifting my hair, and his expression softened. “Marry one – and you’re marrying me. Just two days, my love.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed first my ring, and then my finger. “Two days before you are mine.” My tummy squiggled in a mix of warm anticipation and a flutter of nerves. He smiled, and I remembered that he could feel what I felt as clearly as I could sense his elation. “There’s no escape, no quarter given,” he teased.
“None needed, none sought,” I replied, leaning my forehead on his. I looked up as something tugged my attention to find Beth looking at us, and I understood that what I felt was wistful energy riding on silent waves as tangible as water, as invisible as air. There were times now, when the boundaries between physical and ethereal blurred, each becoming as substantial as the other, and I had to remember not to let it show.
Mum and Pat were beginning to hand out napkins. I still felt full from lunch, but the twins were sitting in front of the food basket like expectant puppies on their very best behaviour. Holding a sandwich in one hand, Archie headed towards Matthew, dropped onto all fours, rolled over onto his bottom, and sat stolidly in front of him.
“Hello, Archie,” Matthew said. “What do you have there?” Archie stuck his fist out with the crumpled sandwich. “That looks… delicious. Are you going to eat it?”
The sandwich remained stubbornly aloft.
“I think he’s offering it to you,” Rob said from the other side of the circle.
Archie waved the sandwich at Matthew, frowning now. “Da, da, da.”
“Take the sandwich to Daddy, Arch,” I encouraged, seeing where this was leading.
Beth passed a plate with several sandwiches on it to Matthew. “Here, you’d better have these; Arch can be very persistent, but he’ll be fine if you eat something.”
My nephew wouldn’t be swayed. “Da-dy,” the baby said, staring at Matthew with unswerving blue eyes.
Rob called, “Daddy’s here, Arch.”
Matthew took the sandwich from the chubby fingers and Archie squealed in delight. “Thank you, Archie,” he said, but the baby couldn’t be bought that easily and, climbing to his feet, snatched the sandwich from Matthew’s hand and tried to force-feed him instead.
“’Widge…” he insisted. “’Widge!” With everyone now following Archie’s antics with interest, Matthew’s reluctance to play his game became increasingly obvious.
“Heavens above!” Pat exclaimed loudly enough so that the baby was momentarily forgotten. “I’ve forgotten to pack the tea,” she declared, surreptitiously slipping a small packet into the pocket of her denim skirt. Matthew jumped up. “I’ll fetch it. I won’t be long.”
Archie was not amused. There was a finely balanced moment when he gazed after Matthew, deciding whether to make an issue of it.
“Archie’s sandwich,” I reiterated. He gave me a disdainful look, stuck his bottom lip out, and sat on his nappy-padded behind with his back to me.
“That told you,” Beth laughed, passing me a napkin.
A fly made a nuisance of itself. I swatted at it absentmindedly whilst nibbling one of the sandwiches. The day would have been too warm but for the insistent breeze that blew the sound of the river towards us, at once both lulling and inviting. I stretched out along the edge of the blanket, leaning on one elbow and listening to the conversation. Archie forgot to be cross and helped himself to the sandwiches Matthew had left, one in each hand for good measure, and poddled over to his father.
The fly buzzed my ear, making me flinch, and landed on the rug. I aimed to flap it away but it rose lazily into the air, dodging my advance. I heard the sound of voices and looked around to see Matthew, Dan, and Joel strolling towards us. Tossing a packet of tea to Henry, Matthew settled beside me.
“You’re safe, Arch is asleep,” I said.
Matthew smiled, then just as suddenly stopped. “Where’re the children?”
“What?”
Rising again, he scanned the area. “The twins – where are they?”
“They were here a minute ago,” Pat said, but Rob and Beth were on their feet, searching the surrounding levels with anxious eyes.
“Alex, Flora!” Rob called.
Long grass sighed in the breeze, but the sward remained untouched.
“Could they have gone back to the house?” Mum asked.
“Flora!” Beth filled her lungs. “Alex!”
Dan shielded his eyes from the glare. “We’ve just come from there; we would have seen them.”
Fear swept through the party. Sound-scented air, as beguiling as water and as treacherous, rose from the river. Matthew and I turned as one.
“They’ll be by the river,” I said, dread welling.
Matthew was already moving. “Dan, Henry, take the southern section down to the paddocks. Joel – the levels.” There was no caution in their speed now, but no one counted how long it took for them to cover the ground. A call, the faintest of sounds carried by the wind and so brief it might have been no more than the suggestion of our hope, had Matthew veering through a fringe of saplings towards where the little bridge crossed the river.
Beth looked on the verge of collapse. “The river…”
“Stay here with Arch; we’ll find them.” I pushed her back towards Mum and Pat, as Dad followed Henry, and Rob and I ran as fast as we could towards the river where Matthew had been moments before.
Distended with melt-water, the rabid current roared and foamed. I looked up and down the banks, but could see no sign of the twins or Matthew. Cutting the river like a knife, the bridge was under water. Further away, I could hear faint calls as the men searched downstream.
Rob despaired. “They’ll drown if they fall into this! FLORA! ALEX!” he began calling again, his voice cracking in anguish as I began running along the bank upriver. Where was Matthew? I stumbled on uneven ground, falling and feeling my skin scrape on rough rocks, not caring, and up and running again, my breath coming sharp and shallow, short and harsh. Nothing but the water and the wind, the rocks and the fury of the spate. And then a sound – a cry. Alex. Around the bend in the river where the willows hung close to the water, I saw him. “Alex!” I almost wept with relief. Wet hair black against his frozen white face, his body shaking, but alive – so alive. I fell to my knees and held him to me. “Alex, where’s Flora? Where is she?” He stared at the river, eyes dark as the water. “She’s in the river? Alex – is Flora in the water?”
He nodded. Rob came up behind me, his breathing noisy. I thrust Alex into his arms.
“She’s in the river. Flora… FLORA!” Only a few dozen yards away on the opposite bank and half hidden by the trees, a dark shape moved. “Matthew!” I yelled, but he didn’t look up as he searched the churning waters. Within a split second he halted, stiffened, and with a movement as fluid as the water, dived into the river. He surfaced once, disappeared again. I stared fixedly at the point where I’d last seen him. Seconds passed into a minute, then another.
Rob clutched Alex, watching the waters. “Where is she? For pity’s sake, where’s my little girl!”
Nothing but river, and wind and fear.
I pointed. “There!”
Fifty yards downstream, battling the current towards an overhanging tree, Matthew clawed the water in an attempt to reach land. The water bucked around him, the current too str
ong. I couldn’t see clearly. I ran, hearing Rob’s heavy footfall behind me, catching glimpses as Matthew swept downstream where the banks rose sheer.
“Matthew!” In and out of trees, ducking their treacherous branches, feeling them whip against my face, staggering into iron trunks until I could see him clearly this time. He fought the water using only one arm. Why only one arm? Then I could see – a small golden head held above the river.
Rob saw her too. “Flora!” he howled, dropping Alex to his feet and sprinting to the nearest overhang. “Emma, I can’t swim.”
I hunted frantically for a branch, anything that we could use, but the ravenous river – swollen with greed – would devour them if it could, so I lifted my head and with the full force that desperation gave me, bellowed, “JOEL! DAN! HEN-RY!” and let the river carry the plea downstream.
Wrenching a snow-damaged branch from a tree, Rob reached as far as he could over the water, but the leaping river tore it from his hand. Desperate, he stretched towards Matthew at the same moment as I yelled, “Watch out!” and Matthew turned in time to see the partially submerged rock. Bringing his arm around to protect Flora’s head, he took the full force of the blow on his shoulder. Over the roar of the water I heard the gunshot crack of bone shattering. Rob moaned in horror, but Matthew managed to wedge himself between two boulders. With an almighty effort, with one arm he lifted Flora’s limp body free of the water, punching her through the air towards her father. Rob’s fingers grasped the little jacket, but she was too heavy, the current too strong, and she fell against the bank, her legs dragged by the water until the thin fabric began to tear. From my left, Dan raced to the riverbank, flinging himself on his stomach and reaching as far as he could until he seized her arm, bringing her to shore.
Henry arrived seconds later. He rounded on me. “Where’s Dad? Emma, where is he?” Searching the waters, I couldn’t see him. Fear closed my throat.
“Flora isn’t breathing,” Dan said over his shoulder, starting compressions. “Help me, she’s not breathing!”