From A Distance

by Gloria Cook

  Elena rubbed her arms and drew in her feet. Her guest had jumped into another mood and was tossing about personal comments. ‘Actually, I am a little busy.’

  Selina glanced at her watch. ‘Well, I really must go. My next stop is Ford Farm. It’s been nice talking to you, Elena. I wish you all the happiness for the future.’

  For a future without Jim, Selina thought, with viciousness. Jim’s plans to live in this big, fine house would be scuppered as soon as Elena began to relate her conversation this afternoon. Jim would assume she had been told all about how and when he had lost his virginity, and he would lose his temper, really let rip at the deliberate ill will aimed at him, and Elena, the dear, sweet little innocent, would be disturbed, and hopefully disgusted, and wonder if she could go through with the marriage. Better still, Jim would probably come after Selina herself and cause an almighty scene in which he would issue all manner of threats. The love and the trust that had formed under this roof would be destroyed.

  Elena went upstairs to the front landing window and looked down as Selina pulled away in the Daimler. Passion didn’t teem often through Elena’s slight form but now she was spilling over with it, passion of the indignation and furious kind. So the risqué rumours that had circulated about Jim being involved with the promiscuous former nurse were true. She had been his mystery woman. Recalling how distraught he had been after the association had ended, it was plain that Selina Bosweld had cast him aside in her usual cruel manner. Did Selina Bosweld really think she cared about Jim’s past? That he wasn’t a virgin? That he had been seduced – ruthlessly seduced, no doubt. He hadn’t deserved to be a victim of hers.

  This was the only time in her life that Elena uttered a swear word. ‘You bitch! You viper. I know your game, Selina Bosweld. You didn’t fool me for one minute. I’ll lay flowers on poor young Libby’s grave, the niece you didn’t really care about,’ she promised. A Bible passage ran through her mind – vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. Then Elena made another promise. If the beastly woman even tried to cause any heartbreak to Jim and her new family, she might not wait for the Lord to act.

  * * *

  ‘Hello? This is Ford Farm.’

  ‘Mrs Rowse, this is Perry Bosweld.’ He held the receiver away from her bellow. ‘May I please speak to Emilia?’

  ‘Course you can. You’ll have to hold the line though. She’s out in the dairy. Just give me a minute.’

  Dolly could walk briskly and she made her destination within the designated time. Emilia had recently been taking refuge in the dairy, as if she was clinging to former happier times. Head down, dour-faced, she was attending to the clotted cream production; the cream that had been separated from milk was scalding in a bain-marie. ‘Leave that! Perry’s on the phone for ’ee.’

  ‘Tell him I’m busy,’ Emilia replied in the flat tones she used nowadays. ‘And that I’ll ring back later.’

  ‘I’ll do no such thing. And you said that yesterday and you didn’t do it. Come on! I know you’ve got a lot on your mind but the poor man’s got a lot on his too. It might be important. Anyway, it’s basic good manners to speak to him.’

  Emilia sighed at the intrusion – she wanted only to keep her mind numb. Speaking to Perry would be the hardest thing. Dolly read Emilia’s sigh as annoyance, then saw it was helplessness. ‘Now don’t get upset, my love. Where’s Linda? What’s the use in having a dairymaid if you keep sending her off to do something else? Wipe your hands, I’ll carry on here.’

  Never had Perry felt more agitated and lost. He waited impatiently, praying Emilia would speak to him this time. He leapt when he heard her voice. His heart dipped to his feet. She sounded so weak, dull and hesitant. ‘Hello, Perry. What do you want?’

  ‘What do you think, Em? I want us to talk. I want to see you.’

  ‘I—I can’t. Not now.’

  ‘Why not? What have I done? Look, I happen to know that Lottie’s at Tremore House with her cousin today. You’ve got all your harvest cut and have all the help you need. What other excuse do you have? Em, darling, please don’t do this! I don’t understand. You’re breaking my heart.’

  The despair in his voice drove her very near to tears. ‘I’m so sorry. The last thing that I want to do is to hurt you. Perry, it’s so difficult.’ She frowned. ‘How did you know where Lottie is? Where are you?’

  ‘In the village telephone box. Selina’s got the motor. I’ve hired one. I’m going to drive to the churchyard. You and I being there won’t be thought odd. I’ll wait there for you.’ He put the receiver down before she could object and increase the terrible sense of rejection she’d thrust upon him. He’d understood why Tristan Harvey had asked him and Selina to leave the farm the day Alec’s will had been read, but when Emilia had returned from her walk with Ben she had been strangely aloof, had hardly met his eyes, and it was as if the eight years in which they had been in love had never existed. Alec leaving her everything had disturbed and confused her so much.

  Changing into her black funeral clothes, picking some lilies rather than roses from the garden, Emilia cycled slowly along the two miles of lanes to the church. Perry was sitting on the bench beside the weedy green path by the newer graves, not far from where Libby had been lain. Emilia saw that he had put pink roses there, a pretty posy to add to the wreaths; there were a lot of wreaths – the villagers had felt sorry for the girl lost so tragically. Perry struggled to get up. Emilia grimaced. He was using his walking stick, which meant he was in pain. He got like this when he was tense, finding his prosthetic demanding.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. A week ago she would have hastened to him, to receive his love and comfort and give the same to him. Now she felt nothing for Perry. And not even just nothing for him. Sometimes she was finding it hard to relate to Will, Tom and Lottie, and this was adding to her bewilderment.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he replied, swallowing the hopeful smile he’d been about to form. Emilia was looking at him as if he was a stranger. At least she had come, it was something to cling to. ‘We’ve both got a daughter buried here now.’

  ‘And I’ve got a husband.’ She faced the direction of the older graves, where the Harvey plot was. The lilies were laying over her arm and she looked down at them with intent.

  ‘Is this what it’s all about? Alec? You’re feeling guilty about us?’

  ‘Yes. But more than that, I feel terrible for letting him down. I’ll never forgive myself. He’s given me everything and I’d betrayed him.’

  ‘I was afraid you’d say that.’ Perry gripped her arm. ‘I know I should do the decent thing and tell you to go to him, stay his grieving widow for ever, and say that I’ll leave and never come back. But I can’t! I’m not strong enough. Em. Please don’t send me away.’ He gave an ironic laugh. ‘Selina’s been plotting to break us up, she blames me for Libby’s death and wants to punish me. Strange thing is, it’s Alec’s wish that’s threatening to do it, and he didn’t even intend to. I suppose it’s a just retribution for both of us.’

  He looked down at the ground. There was a long silence. Neither of them moved. He said, ‘Do you want me to go away?’

  Her voice was barely a whisper. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘At least you didn’t say no immediately. Perhaps you just need some time. Dear God, I hope that’s all you need. Everything’s a mess. I shouldn’t have come. Libby would still be alive. Nothing would have prevented Alec from dying, but you might have felt differently about us, yes, I’m sure you would have done. I feel terrible too for us being together while Alec was dying. But nothing can change that now.’ He wanted to say a lot more. That if she rejected him for good he’d have nothing to live for because he could never love again. He said, ‘I’ll leave you now. I’ll stay at Reggie’s house for another two days, then I’ll travel back up to London. I don’t intend to keep the house, but I’ll wait there for six months and hope you’ll get in touch, and if not then I’ll go. I shall come back here on the anniversary of Libby’s death next yea
r. I shan’t come to the farm. If you want to see me leave some roses for her.’

  ‘I understand. Don’t blame yourself over Libby. It was my fault. I was the one who changed the tone of our greeting cards. Goodbye, Perry. Take care.’

  He hesitated but she remained silent. ‘Goodbye, Em. Remember I shall never stop loving you.’

  She heard his irregular steps trudging over the ground, travelling away from her. There was already a yawning distance between them. She walked off to deliver the lilies. With a start she heard the engine start up and the car Perry had hired move away. She whispered on the silent air, ‘Whatever happens, I will always love you too.’

  * * *

  Selina found the farm lacking its new owner, but there were three visitors at the back door. Tristan Harvey and Vera Rose Stockley had arrived to see how things were, and the sweet young girl she had seen talking to Jim Killigrew in Truro had just stepped out of a taxicab. Selina was expecting a hostile reception for herself but she was unprepared for the reaction of Tristan to the girl.

  ‘Miss Hetherton-Andrews.’ His whole demeanour was stiff, his face dark and glowering. ‘What on earth brings you here?’

  Louisa was wearing a blouse and trousers and country shoes. She visibly tensed against the frostiness. She blustered, ‘I’ve come to see if I can help out and to see Jonny before he goes up again. If that’s all right. Aunt Polly is collecting me later.’

  ‘Course it is.’ Dolly Rowse came outside to usher everyone in for tea. She eyed Selina charily. ‘Most people are welcome here.’

  ‘I don’t want a drink, thank you.’ Selina smiled warmly at Dolly as if she hadn’t just received a rebuff. Then she turned her lovely eyes on the girl. Tristan calling her by name had made her aware of who she was. She had a birthmark on her face. The old district nurse had prattled on about someone with a birthmark. Tristan obviously didn’t like the girl. He wasn’t the sort to have some weird country superstition about people with birthmarks, so what was this all about? ‘I’m fascinated to meet you, Miss Hetherton-Andrews. I’m Dr Selina Bosweld.’

  ‘Oh! You’re… ? Oh, I’m sorry.’ Louisa was a little unnerved. She had met many obnoxious grasping types on her various travels, and apparently this woman was one, with an added malicious streak. ‘What I meant to say is, please accept my condolences over your recent loss, Dr Bosweld.’

  ‘Thank you. Well, as Emilia isn’t here I think I’ll run along. Goodbye all.’ She took a sneaky glance back and saw Dolly scowling after her, and Tristan scowling at Louisa Hetherton-Andrews.

  She had no intention of going immediately and lingered to light a cigarette. It amused her how the others quickly trooped inside to take advantage of Dolly Rowse’s never empty teapot, making the point they were glad to be rid of her company. Was Jonny Harvey in the fields or somewhere in the yards? She left the flagstones and strode over the dusty cobbles, keeping alert for the gander, a beady-eyed wretch who was more territorial than the Jack Russells, who would draw out his neck and hiss like a traction engine to intimidate family member and visitor alike, and occasionally go as far as to peck at a vulnerable leg. Once, Selina had grabbed the bird round the neck and tossed it across the yard. The other geese were about, among the multitude of noisy poultry, ducks, hens, guinea fowl and turkeys, but there was no sign of the gander. You’re learning, Selina thought, grinning to herself.

  A terrific squealing started up. Selina smirked to see Jonny herding a trio of escaping sows back into the pig crow.

  ‘In you get! In you get!’ Using rapid, athletic, waylaying movements with his long limbs, he got them back inside the pen and shut the sliding doors on them.

  ‘Cunning old swine, aren’t they?’ Selina giggled at her joke and peered down on the graceless, would-be escapees, their tiny eyes half concealed by their large floppy ears, as they now hunted about eagerly for food. ‘You need something to batten down those doors. They get out every other day, from what I’ve heard.’

  ‘It’s none of your business. What are you doing here? I’ve told you I don’t want to see you again.’ He shifted uncomfortably, praying no one would witness them talking together. She was very close to him. He could smell her unassuming perfume and smell desire on her. And although he loathed her beyond measure, she had terrifically exciting ways of performing sex and he couldn’t fight the fact she was breeding desire in him now. He was ashamed that he had succumbed to her immediately after her first move on him, ashamed he had allowed it at all, and with her words echoing inside his head about his uncle’s dreadful end. ‘I’ve told you what happened between us was a mistake.’

  ‘Are you sure about that, Jonny?’ she teased, knowing why he was breaking out in a sweat. ‘You were outrageously enthusiastic at the time. Now there’s no need to get defensive. Once with you was enough for me, you’ve got too much to learn. Your father and cousin are here, oh, and a girl from Truro called Louisa. A pretty little thing. She seems very out of place here. I must say, I was thoroughly taken aback by your father’s dislike of her. It’s very strange for him to behave in that manner. What’s behind it?’

  Feeling more secure now she wasn’t going to suggest they slip away to the hayloft, Jonny accepted the cigarette she offered. He bent his head over her lighter, then took a deep, steadying puff. ‘No idea.’ There was no use denying there was something in what Selina had said. He had quarrelled with his father about his bizarre antagonism towards Louisa. He couldn’t understand why he was prejudiced against her, but there was definitely something. He had questioned his Uncle Alec and Aunt Winifred and they had both been reluctant to talk about it, and Polly Hetherton seemed uneasy on the few occasions when Louisa mixed with the family.

  ‘Oh, well, we all have our little idiosyncrasies. Goodbye, Jonny. Good luck with your studies.’ Selina drove back to Truro. She intended to call on Gertrude Roberts.

  Unless it was a special occasion, food and drink was always served in the farmhouse kitchen. Vera Rose sat on the form at the huge scrubbed pine table, sipping Dolly Rowse’s bitter-strong tea and examining her stepfather, as puzzled as Jonny and Selina were about why he disliked Louisa so much. It was more than that: it seemed he couldn’t stand the sight of her. It was irrational, and unbelievable in her uncle’s case because in every other aspect he was a good and caring man, fun-loving and generous, and totally respectful, but to Louisa he was unapproachable, and when he did stoop to speak to her he was offhand and even sometimes downright rude.

  It was no wonder the poor, sweet-natured girl was squirming on her chair and looking down miserably into her teacup. She had asked Tristan, in polite chitchat, how things were at Roskerne.

  ‘What do you expect?’ he had replied gruffly, pulling on his black tie. ‘We’ve had a tragedy there too.’

  Vera Rose noticed that Mrs Rowse and Tilda were eyeing him quizzically, and because they, like everyone else who knew Louisa, liked her very much, the two women were also looking annoyed. There was obviously something behind all this antagonism. She and Jonny had discussed it over the years and their favourite opinion, the only one that seemed logical, was that his father, her uncle, must know who Louisa’s parents were and he had a reason to loathe them.

  Vera Rose would have suggested to Louisa that they go outside and find Jonny, but she was eager to see him alone. He would soon be going back up to Oxford and goodness knew when she’d see him again. Jonny had no understanding of it, but the fact that she had given herself to him had left her loving him even more. That would never change.

  After the first time with him, on the old couch up in Roskerne’s attics, she had lain wrapped up against him, aware that he wasn’t satisfied yet, and she had made what she felt to be a necessary explanation. ‘I care deeply for you, Jonny. I mean I love you or I wouldn’t have had done it with you.’

  He had kissed her lips tenderly but also with simmering passion, stroking down her back; her skin, like his, was hot and damp from their energetic joining. ‘I love you too.’

  He
was looking at her breasts and she made a vain attempt to get their eyes to meet. ‘What I mean is that I really love you. I’m in love with you.’

  ‘Don’t be daft! Vee,’ he had laughed as if he’d thought her declaration hilarious. ‘Don’t make the mistake of thinking there actually is the sort of thing pumped out in storybooks. There’s lust and passion and there’s friendship and companionship. Some people are lucky to be able to combine the two. If you want children then find someone to marry, but make sure it’s someone you can have fun with too, someone who won’t try to change or control you.’ She had felt herself growing numb in his arms and he must have felt her disappointment. ‘Look, my darling, I’ll always care about you, always love you, and always be your friend. I find that wonderful and enriching. You should too. It means that whatever happens in our lives we can always turn to each other. And we’ll probably need to do so: tragedy links us now in our childhood home and heaven knows what the future will bring. Don’t be downhearted. You’ll come across other men who’ll take your fancy. The trouble is, you’ve relegated yourself to just the roles of wife and mother. Think again about university. You’re an intelligent woman. For goodness sake, get out there and live your life! Don’t waste it. Don’t waste your talents. Think what you could do in the world. As much as I despise the Bosweld woman, I admire her for doing just that.’

  Clinging to him for some sort of consolation, she had thought through his viewpoints and exhortations. And then forgotten them, for Jonny had begun to make love to her again intensely. The first time she had been too nervous to enjoy anything, apart from the ideal of sacrificing her virginity to him out of love and commitment, but now he was doing different things, for her rather than for himself, and she was soon lost to the moment. Despite misgivings on moral and religious grounds, and the fear that their parents would discover them, there had been subsequent unions.