Springtime at the Cider Kitchen

by Fay Keenan

  Meredith smiled. ‘Flynn’s walking me back later,’ she said. ‘We’re going to meet a couple of friends here.’

  ‘Soft drinks only, now you’re unsupervised,’ Matthew warned.

  Meredith rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. I’ve had enough sherry this afternoon to last me a lifetime.’ Hugging her father and stepmother goodbye, she ambled off to the bar on the other side of the pub.

  ‘Just you and me then, Munchkin,’ Anna turned to her daughter.

  ‘I might as well drop you off on the way,’ Matthew said, as the final mourners departed. ‘I don’t like the idea of you walking back in the dark without Meredith to keep an eye on you.’

  ‘I won’t say no,’ Anna replied. ‘This one’s getting heavy, anyway.’ She patted her stomach.

  Leaving the pub, Matthew, Anna and Ellie walked the short distance to the Land Rover and then Matthew dropped them back at Cowslip Barn. ‘I won’t be long,’ he said as they got out of the car. ‘I’ll probably find him slumped in Dad’s chair by the fire.’

  Despite Anna’s pleas, Matthew could feel his frustration with Jonathan rising as he drove the short distance from Cowslip Barn to Orchard Cottage. They should have faced the mourners at the wake together, united, but, as with so much in their lives lately, they’d been apart on this most important of days. Matthew was also, if truth be told, angry at himself for passing the buck of Jack’s eulogy to Jonathan. Jonathan had done a beautiful job, but Matthew had been filled with the same old jealousy and shame that it should have been so. Was it because, deep down, he knew that if he’d given the eulogy he’d have disappointed his father? That Jack would have preferred Jonathan to do it?

  Orchard Cottage was in darkness as Matthew pulled up, and for a fleeting moment, he was put very firmly in his brother’s shoes the night Jonathan had discovered Jack’s body. He shivered in the rising wind as he got out of the Land Rover and strode towards the cottage. Fumbling in the darkness for the key to the front door, he eventually slotted it into the lock and walked into the bungalow.

  ‘Jonathan?’ The air was silent and cold around him with no radiators ticking in the hallway. ‘Jonno?’ Matthew tried again. ‘Are you home?’

  Nothing. No sound, not even a light in the kitchen. Walking through to the living room, just to double check, Matthew found it empty. Knowing the answer, but just to make sure, Matthew checked his brother’s room, and, automatically, his father’s, but they were both empty. Where could Jonathan be? Cursing under his breath, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He didn’t want to worry Anna, but she was expecting him back soon, so he thought he’d better let her know what he had, or rather hadn’t, found.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said as Anna began to make suggestions. ‘I think I know where to look. You’d better get the spare room ready.’ Grimly, he pressed the end call button, went back down the stairs and out of the door of the cottage. It had started to rain, and as he got back into the Land Rover, he hoped his hunch was right.

  A short drive later and Matthew parked the Land Rover again. Pausing to grab a torch from the glove compartment, he slammed the door shut, not bothering to lock it. No one would be out here in the dark on an evening like this, he thought. Well, no one in their right mind, anyway. He began to ascend the wooded slope, looking around all the time. The rain had started to fall more heavily, soaking the shoulders of his suit jacket and the top of his head. Matthew picked up his pace, hoping his brother hadn’t gone far; neither of them were dressed for hill walking.

  ‘Jonathan!’ Matthew’s voice was whipped away from him by the wind. The icy November rain lashed down, drenching his already wet hair even more. Somehow, he made it to the top of the hill, slipping in his leather brogues on the mud, feet tangling in the tree roots that lined the steep path.

  A crack of lightning illuminated the ink dark sky as Matthew emerged onto the Wavering Down flat, throwing the sheep that were huddled together on the hill into momentary sharp relief against the cool green of the pasture. Where the hell was his brother?

  ‘Jonno!’ An ominous rumble of thunder resonated in the air, followed almost immediately by another sharp slash of light, splitting the sky above in two.

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Matthew muttered, his suit jacket providing very little protection against the lacerating storm. He’d dashed out of the Land Rover without pausing to grab his Barbour, and now, starting to shiver in the November storm, he regretted it.

  ‘Jonathan! Where are you?’ Another crash of thunder rolled across the open hill top before the lightning caught up. The rain lashed his face and he put a hand up to his brow to keep the worst of it out of his eyes, the torch he’d brought with him barely illuminating a foot in front of him in the downpour.

  Matthew kept walking. This had been a popular route for them as children, always with the family dog in tow, and they’d often disappeared for hours, wandering the distance between Kings Wood and Crook Peak and back again. Matthew had known it like the back of his hand and it had changed little in the intervening years. In daylight the view stretched from Cheddar reservoir to Glastonbury Tor, with the Somerset levels in between, but on a night like this all around was darkness. Even the traffic from the A38 a mile or so below seemed muted.

  The storm was right overhead now and as a deafening clap of thunder broke, the lightning made it as bright as midday for a split second. It was all Matthew needed and he picked up his pace, heedless of his impractical footwear, as he caught sight of a figure, still, thankfully, wrapped in his black overcoat, slumped against a hawthorn tree at the edge of the path, an empty bottle of Carter’s calvados next to him. Its distinctive red label was lit up first by the lightning and then Matthew’s torch. Breaking into a jog, slipping on the mud, Matthew approached the tree.

  ‘You stupid, stupid fucker!’ Matthew’s words died on his lips as he caught sight of his brother’s face. Obviously blind drunk, Jonathan’s chestnut hair was plastered down, his eyes closed against the deluge of wind and rain. He was out cold. Cursing the weather, his brother and anything and everything that sprang to mind, Matthew reached his brother’s side and, reaching out a hand, tried to shake him to awareness.

  ‘Off,’ Jonathan muttered, trying to remove Matthew’s hand from his shoulder.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing out here?’ Matthew raised his voice against the wind that was whipping over the top of the plain. ‘Are you trying to get pneumonia?’

  ‘Just fuck off and leave me alone,’ Jonathan muttered. ‘Get back down the hill to your family.’

  Matthew was torn between wanting to hold Jonathan and hit him. ‘You’re my family,’ he said. With an almighty heave, and feeling his dodgy knee creaking ominously, he dragged Jonathan to his feet. ‘Now for fuck’s sake come back down with me and let’s get the hell out of the rain.’ He began walking towards the slope of the woods, virtually carrying Jonathan. He could feel the dig of Jonathan’s hip bones through his overcoat as he kept one arm firmly round his brother’s waist, guiding him away from the thicker tree roots. If they both went arse over tit in the rain, Matthew didn’t reckon much for either of their chances.

  Jonathan, returned to his feet, swayed unsteadily and almost dragged Matthew back down into the mud. ‘I can walk,’ he slurred. He pulled away from his brother and immediately stumbled.

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ Matthew snapped, grabbing hold of his brother again.

  ‘Like you always fucking are, you mean!’ Jonathan’s voice grew harsher. ‘Why can’t you keep out of things that don’t concern you.’ The comedown from the booze was making him punchy, and his eyes rolled one moment, flashed the next.

  ‘If you behaved like a reasonable adult occasionally, I wouldn’t be out here now,’ Matthew said, forcing Jonathan back round to face him.

  ‘I am a fucking adult!’ Jonathan retorted. ‘And I’m not your responsibility.’

  ‘Clearly,’ Matthew said. ‘And I bet Dad would be really pleased if he was able to see you, off your head a
nd freezing cold up here in the rain, wouldn’t he?’

  Jonathan winced. ‘Well, he won’t. And it’s still none of your fucking business what I do.’

  ‘Have you any idea how infantile you sound?’ Matthew said, struggling to be heard against the wind. ‘You’re a grown man and you sound like some stupid teenager. So get off the bloody hill and come home, will you?’

  ‘I can sound how I like,’ Jonathan retorted. ‘It’s no-one’s business but my own.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Matthew said grimly. ‘If I don’t get you home, Anna will worry herself sick, Meredith’ll go off her head and I’ll get earache from both of them. So, have pity for your brother and come back down.’

  ‘Why can’t you all just leave me the fuck alone?’ Jonathan shouted, the last of the calvados running through his system. ‘I didn’t ask any of you to be concerned about me.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Matthew grabbed hold of Jonathan’s arm and spun him round to face him. ‘This has gone on long enough. Dad’s gone. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t make it happen. Now stop blaming yourself for it, and take some responsibility for what’s left of your life; for what you can do something about.’

  ‘I’ve tried,’ Jonathan shouted. ‘Fuck knows I’ve tried, but it’s never good enough, is it? Whatever I try to do in the business, you can’t let go enough to trust me, and even when you did deign to give me a little bit of control, you were more than happy to see it fail.’ Jonathan rubbed a hand over his bloodshot eyes. ‘You can’t deny it, Matthew. You wanted to see me crash and burn.’

  ‘That’s not true.’ The shock in Matthew’s voice was almost lost in the wind. ‘You must know that’s not true.’ He took a step back from his brother. ‘I love you. I’ve never wanted to see you fail.’

  ‘Bullshit.’ Jonathan looked his brother straight in the eye. ‘You can’t bear to see me making a success of anything. You don’t think I deserve it.’

  ‘And why the fuck should you care what I think?’ Matthew said. His brow was furrowed, and his hands were trembling, not entirely from the cold. ‘You’ve never needed my approval for anything, and you’ve never sought it.’

  Jonathan shook his head. ‘You’re wrong.’ He looked at his brother. ‘Ever since I came home, your approval, and Dad’s, was all I wanted. The distribution deal, the takeover bid, even the early stages of the fucking restaurant… I wanted to prove to you both I could do it.’

  ‘To us, or to yourself?’ Matthew said. ‘Or maybe to Caroline.’

  There was a long, painful pause between the brothers. Matthew tightened his arm on Jonathan’s shoulder, reminded almost unbearably of carrying the burden of their father’s coffin between them. ‘Come on,’ he said gruffly, the tears suddenly too close to the surface again. ‘Let’s get down the hill before we both freeze to death.’

  Jonathan regarded his brother warily. ‘You’re not going to fuck off, are you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  Hanging his head in defeat, Jonathan began picking his way back down the hill. When they reached the car park at the entrance to the wood, he pulled open the door to the Land Rover without a word, and slumped into the front seat. He didn’t even bother putting on his seatbelt, so Matthew reached across him and did it for him, muttering under his breath about younger brothers being a liability. It was only when he clocked the direction of travel that Jonathan looked back at Matthew.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  Matthew’s mouth was set in a grim, implacable line. ‘If you think I’m taking you back to the cottage to keep on drinking, you’ve got another thing coming. You’re coming back home with me.’

  ‘Are you fucking joking?’

  ‘Nope.’ Matthew’s hands were clenched on the wheel. Angry as he was with Jonathan, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if Jonathan came to any harm.

  ‘You can kip in the spare room for tonight, until you’ve sobered up.’ Matthew glanced at his brother. ‘And if Ellie or Merry don’t wake you in the morning, then Anna certainly will. Perhaps she can bring you to your senses, since I’ve spectacularly failed to do so.’

  Jonathan opened his mouth to argue, but one look at his brother’s set face and clenched hands silenced him. He was freezing, he was beginning to feel an encroaching hangover and he really didn’t want to go back to the cold, empty bungalow anyway, even if he’d never admit it. Since Jack’s death, the place no longer felt like home.

  They completed the short journey back to Cowslip Barn in a silence that was not altogether companionable. Matthew parked the Land Rover, and Jonathan was out of the passenger seat almost before the engine had stopped. The rain had ceased, leaving the remnants of the clouds in a murky sky above them, the moon hidden from view in a shroud of grey. Jonathan shivered. His black coat was soaked through and he felt chilled to the bone now the booze was wearing off.

  ‘I don’t have to face the girls, do I?’ he said as they both made for the door round the back that led into the kitchen.

  ‘Probably not a good idea, anyway,’ Matthew said gruffly. ‘Have a shower and get to bed.’

  Jonathan nodded, relieved that, as they entered the kitchen, there wasn’t anyone else around. ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he said, crossing the stone floor.

  Matthew merely nodded.

  As Jonathan mounted the stairs and vanished onto the landing, Meredith, home now from the pub, and Anna emerged from the sitting room. Both wore identical looks of concern.

  ‘How is he?’ Anna asked quietly.

  ‘Not great.’

  ‘How did you know where to look?’ Meredith glanced up the stairs.

  ‘We used to go up the hill when we were kids,’ Matthew said, crossing the hallway to stand with them. ‘I kind of had a gut instinct that’s where he’d end up.’

  ‘What are we going to do about him?’ Meredith sighed. ‘He’s still in bits about Granddad, isn’t he?’

  Matthew nodded. ‘He just needs time to get over it all.’ He reached out a hand and brushed Meredith’s long dark plait back over her shoulder. ‘All this has been hardest on him, I think.’

  ‘And it would help if Caroline had been in touch,’ Meredith continued. ‘As far as I know, she’s not contacted him since she went on leave. I mean, how could she do that to him? Knowing about Granddad and not even sending him a text?’

  ‘I’m sure there’s more to it than meets the eye, Merry,’ Anna said gently. ‘She wouldn’t be deliberately freezing him out.’ She looked concerned. ‘I’ve been trying to call her since your grandfather died, but she’s not answering her phone.’

  ‘And Emma’s not had an email from her since the day after she left,’ Meredith said. ‘It’s a good job Emma knows how to run The Cider Kitchen in her sleep, or we’d really be in the shit at the restaurant.’ She looked apologetically at Anna. ‘Sorry, Wicked Stepmother. I’m just so fed up with bloody adults messing up their lives. And I miss Granddad.’

  ‘I know you do,’ Matthew said, putting an arm around Meredith. ‘It’s going to be hard over the next few weeks and months, but we’ll manage somehow. We’re good at getting through bad times, remember.’ The dark weeks after Meredith’s car accident still kept all of them awake at night.

  ‘I’ll try calling her again now,’ Anna said. ‘It’s worrying me that she’s not been in touch with anyone at all since she went away. It’s not like her.’ She walked through to the kitchen and grabbed her mobile phone from the table where she’d thrown it when she’d got home. Frowning as she pressed the buttons, she put it back down again. ‘The battery’s flat. I’ll have to give it half an hour or so. With everything that’s been going on with Jack, I’ve lost track of how long she’s been away. God, Matthew, what if something’s happened to her?’ She sat down in one of the kitchen chairs.

  ‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ Matthew said, although the thought had crossed his mind that, with the discrepancy in The Cider Kitchen’s books, perhaps Caroline was deliberately cutting herself off, an
d had maybe even done a runner. He hadn’t yet shared the Accounts department’s findings with Anna, for fear of causing her stress in the very late stages of her pregnancy, but he did wonder if that was the reason Caroline hadn’t been in touch. Jonathan had said he was going to sort it out, but then Jack’s sudden death had knocked them all for six, and Matthew doubted Jonathan had had the chance to get any further. ‘Go and put your feet up,’ he said gently. ‘Jonathan’s going to be out cold until the morning anyway, and we’ll put fresh heads on then and try to sort something out.’

  ‘OK,’ Anna said. ‘Let’s just go and watch something mindless on television, shall we? It’s been a long day.’ She put an arm around Meredith. ‘What do you fancy?’

  ‘I’ve got some revision to do for my exam tomorrow,’ Meredith said, gently disentangling herself. ‘It’ll take my mind off—’ she choked, and then brushed away a stray tear as it fell. ‘Granddad wouldn’t want us to be moping around,’ she said. ‘And he’ll kill me if I try to use him as an excuse to flunk my History mock.’

  Anna drew Meredith close for a moment, and whispered. ‘It’s OK. I understand.’ They broke apart again. ‘Don’t work all night. Come and say goodnight when you’re ready.’

  ‘I will.’ Hugging Matthew too, she disappeared upstairs to her room.

  ‘As always, she’s the most self-possessed of all of us,’ Matthew said quietly. ‘But we’d better keep an eye on her. She tends to let things build up and then explode.’ They both wanted to avoid a repeat of Meredith’s anxieties over the new baby; both of them still kicked themselves that they hadn’t seen it coming.

  ‘More like you than she’d care to admit then,’ Anna smiled wryly, wrapping an arm round Matthew. ‘Come on. Let’s go and watch some Midsomer Murders or something. Anything to escape from things for a bit.’

  Matthew nodded. ‘Only if you promise to tell me whodunit if I fall asleep. I’m knackered!’

  ‘And soaking wet,’ Anna realised as she pulled away from him. ‘How about a hot bath and a glass of whiskey first?’