Shadows of Conflict

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Shadows of Conflict Page 4

by Jennifer Bohnet


  ‘What the hell does he know about long distance relationships anyway?’ Katie said, turning to Lara. ‘It’s not as if he’s ever had one. That is so typical of Leo to jump to the wrong conclusion.’

  ‘He was seeing someone up country when he came back from agriculture college,’ Lara said. ‘Told Dexter it only lasted a few months once he was home.’

  ‘I didn’t know that,’ Katie said. ‘OK, maybe he’s had a bad experience and absence didn’t make his heart grow fonder but Patrick and I are different. Once I’ve got the flat sorted, he’ll be down regularly at weekends – and I’ll go up there too.’

  Lara shrugged. ‘Still think you’re making a mistake. Personally I hope Patrick has taken the coward’s way out and dumped you without telling you.’

  Katie shook her head. ‘No. I know Patrick isn’t like that. He’d tell me.’

  FOUR

  The following morning, Katie took Bert and walked up to Castle Farm to fetch her car. After the previous night’s set-to with Leo, she couldn’t help wondering what sort of reception she was going to get from him.

  She’d left with Lara and Dexter last night shortly after Leo had given her his opinion of long distance relationships. One word about Patrick this morning and she’d tell him to butt out and mind his own business.

  Leo was moving hay bales in the small barn as Katie arrived on the farmyard.

  ‘Give you a hand with those?’ she offered, standing in the barn entrance.

  ‘Thanks,’ Leo said. ‘Not sure a townie like you will have the strength, though,’ he added, grinning at her as he effortlessly threw a bale onto a trailer.

  Katie picked one up and threw it towards the trailer. Not for the world would she have told Leo her feelings of relief when, a mere half a dozen bales later, he called a halt.

  ‘Trailer’s up to capacity now, thanks. Glass of water?’

  Standing in the kitchen and handing her a welcome glass of water, Leo asked, ‘So what are you doing up here this morning anyway?’

  ‘I’ve come to collect my car and to invite you to join Mattie and me for lunch in Torcross,’ Katie said. ‘I meant to ask you last night but I forgot.’ Which was a bit of a white lie. She’d deliberately chosen not to mention Sunday lunch to him because she was so cross with him. This morning she’d calmed down and decided to ask him after all.

  ‘My treat, as a small thank-you for all your help,’ she said.

  Leo shook his head. ‘Sorry, no can do. Already got plans for lunch. Another day?’ He reached across and picked her car keys off the keyboard. ‘You’ll need these. Drive carefully.’

  ‘Thanks. Another time, then,’ Katie said. Why wasn’t she surprised Leo already had plans for lunch? He’d always had a well-established social life with lots of mates even before she’d left home. Clearly nothing had changed.

  Half an hour later, she and Mattie were driving along the coastal road that led to Torcross. Parking in the car park, Katie glanced at the small crowd of men clustered around an old black army tank.

  ‘That army tank has become a real tourist attraction hasn’t it?’ she said.

  ‘Oh, there’s always some American poking around it. Can’t see the attraction myself. Should have left it at the bottom of Start Bay,’ Mattie said dismissively. ‘Shall we go straight to the restaurant?’

  Without waiting for an answer she sped across the road to the annoyance of an oncoming car driver, who was forced to slow down and vented his anger with a loud blast of his horn.

  Katie shook her head at Mattie when she finally caught up with her. ‘Carry on like that and you won’t make many more lunches.’

  ‘I just do not understand the obsession men have with war and war machines,’ Mattie said. ‘It’s so misplaced. The effects of the destruction and the life-shattering changes that happen to ordinary people continue long after the war itself finishes.’

  ‘But we should never forget, should we?’ Katie asked quietly.

  ‘No, of course not. I never will.’ Mattie was silent for a moment before sighing. ‘If it hadn’t been for all the events involving that tank, Clara’s life – and ultimately mine – would have been so different. It’s impossible to change history so the best thing to do is to let it go. No point at all dwelling on the past and what might have been. Lunch?’

  Thinking about Mattie’s words, Katie followed her into the restaurant. Mattie had always been reluctant to talk about the past and she’d never known her to talk about Clara in any detail, but clearly she had some bottled-up, unhappy and disturbing memories of her early life.

  Katie tried several times over lunch to get Mattie to tell her more about her childhood but Mattie kept the conversation firmly on her plans for booking a holiday and how much she was looking forward to going away for the first time in years.

  ‘With you looking after Bert, I don’t have to worry about him. Such a relief,’ she said.

  ‘Talking about Bert, we’d better make a move and go home to let him out,’ Katie said. ‘You sure about walking back down from Leo’s? I can drop you off home and take the car back on my own, no problem.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to the walk,’ Mattie said.

  As Katie drove into the farmyard, Leo was talking to a woman in a white car parked in front of the house.

  ‘Katie, you remember Emma Pine,’ Leo said when Katie walked over to give him the keys, after parking her car in the barn.

  ‘Yes of course. Glad to see you again, Emma,’ Katie said.

  ‘You too,’ Emma replied. ‘Leo’s been telling me all about your plans. I hope it all works out for you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Katie said. Was Emma the ‘I’ve already made plans for lunch’ Leo had told her about? If she was, why did she feel so resentful? It was nothing to do with her who Leo had lunch with.

  ‘Afraid I’ve got to go,’ Emma said. ‘I’ll pop into the shop soon and we’ll catch up. See you Wednesday evening, Leo,’ and blowing a kiss in Leo’s direction, she drove off.

  ‘Good girl, that Emma,’ Mattie said as they started to walk back down to town. ‘She’d make an ideal farmer’s wife and it’s about time Leo settled down.’

  The meeting with Emma, and Mattie’s comments, had somehow put a dampener on the day for Katie. The high adrenalin of the previous weeks and the excitement of opening the shop was calming down. Tomorrow, A Good Yarn would be open full-time for business and life would take on a more normal routine. A social life would become possible … after she’d decorated the flat.

  Once that was habitable, she’d invite Patrick down for a visit. Would he come, though? He hadn’t bothered phoning to see how yesterday had gone – he couldn’t still be sulking, could he?

  While Mattie was sorting Bert’s evening meal, Katie wandered into the garden with her mobile. She’d ring Patrick and tell him about yesterday, how well it had all gone. He was usually home on Sunday evening. So what if he thought she was needy. Right at this moment she was.

  ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine. You?’

  ‘I’m fine too. Thanks for the card. Wish you could have been here, though.’

  ‘Simply not possible. And I’m too busy to chat for long now. Got a meeting with a big new client tomorrow – lots of preparation to do this evening. The agency could break into the real big-time with this.’

  ‘Exciting. Any details you can tell me?’

  ‘Afraid not. It’s all hush hush until it’s announced. Katie, I’ve really got to go. A friend’s just arrived. See you.’

  ‘See you,’ Katie echoed and ended the call. It didn’t seem as though Patrick was missing her one little bit. He hadn’t even asked how her big opening day had gone, or told her who the friend was.

  Maybe Leo was right – Patrick was ditching her without bothering to mention the fact to her. Drifting apart would be easier for him than a face-to-face ‘It’s over’ conversation.

  The shop was filled with the scent from Leo’s roses as Katie opened the door o
n Monday morning and prepared for her first week of business. There were few customers around for the first hour so she concentrated on doing an eye-catching display on the shelves behind the counter.

  Mattie had arrived with lunchtime sandwiches and was preparing to man the counter while Katie had a short break, when the shop door opened and a tall young man entered.

  ‘Good-day, ladies. I’m Noah Emprey Junior, part of the film crew in town making the documentary. Just wanted to warn you, we’ll be filming in Bayards Cove tomorrow. I promise we’ll do our best to keep disruption to a minimum.’

  Mattie ignored Noah’s outstretched hand and muttered something about going to the clubroom and disappeared. Katie stared after her in surprise. Mattie was usually so well-mannered.

  ‘Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m sorry about my godmother, it seems she’s got a definite aversion to Americans,’ Katie said.

  Noah brushed her apology aside. ‘No worries. You are?’

  ‘Katie. Katie Teague.’

  ‘We’re looking for people willing to talk about Operation Overlord and Tiger,’ Noah said. ‘Don’t suppose you can point me in the direction of any locals willing to talk? Your godmother?’

  Katie shook her head. ‘Afraid not. Mattie was only a child then and insists what she remembers is of no interest.’

  ‘Shame.’

  ‘Local History Society?’ Katie suggested.

  ‘Scoured their files already. What we desperately need are some personal memories. We’re going out to Strete tomorrow to see a woman called Beatie. Her family were evacuated in 1943 and my father is hopeful she’ll come up with some new leads.’

  ‘Good luck. Oh, maybe you should talk to Michael, Mattie’s elder brother. He used to be the river pilot – took over from his father. He might have some contacts or be prepared to talk to you.’

  FIVE

  At 7.30 on Tuesday evening, Katie and Mattie were in the newly furnished clubroom. Nervously, Katie fiddled and rearranged things, wondering how many – if any – people would turn up for this first meeting.

  The shop door pinged.

  ‘There you are,’ Mattie said. ‘Told you somebody would come.’

  A teenage girl was standing by the counter, clutching a large carrier-bag. ‘This where the craft club is? ‘Cos I wanna join.’

  ‘Great. I’m Katie. You’re?’

  ‘Trisha.’

  ‘Mattie, we have our first member.’

  Within a quarter of an hour the club had seven members and Katie was explaining how she hoped the club would work.

  ‘Membership is free. All I ask is that you register, which will entitle you to 5% discount in the shop. Please feel free to come and use the room, the machines, have a coffee anytime, but Tuesday evenings will be the time we all get together and listen to a book while we work. If you can each suggest a book, I’ll get Christopher to order an audio copy ready for next week.’

  ‘Jilly Cooper’s Jump,’ Trisha said, looking around as if she expected an argument.

  ‘How will we decide the order to read in?’ demanded a large woman already busy clicking away with a pair of knitting needles and a ball of grey wool. ‘Should be a joint decision.’

  ‘How about we put all the suggestions in a hat and read them in the order they’re drawn out,’ Katie said. ‘Now, what craft is everyone into? Knitting? Sewing? Macrame? Patchwork? Crochet? Découpage?’

  By nine o’clock, coffee had been drunk, tentative friendships formed and a book-list drawn up – Judy Astley would start them off next week. Much to Katie’s secret relief, Jump had been drawn fourth behind Wolf Hall, after which they would all surely be in need of a little light relief.

  ‘Fingers crossed, I think the club is going to work,’ Katie said as she locked the door and she and Mattie prepared to walk home. ‘Everyone seems keen. And isn’t Trisha talented? That patchwork quilt of hers is going to be absolutely beautiful.’

  ‘Evening, Katie, ma’am. May I introduce you both to my dad, Noah Emprey Snr?’

  Katie and Mattie turned to see Noah Jnr and his father smiling at them.

  ‘Hi. Pleased to meet you, Mr Emprey. This is my godmother, Mattie.’

  ‘Can we get you ladies a drink?’ Noah Snr asked, looking across at the Dartmouth Arms.

  Katie ignored the shake of Mattie’s head. ‘Thanks. Two white wines would be lovely.’

  ‘Now why did you go and do that?’ Mattie demanded as they watched the two men disappear into the pub to fetch the drinks. ‘I don’t want to drink with them.’

  ‘Why are you being so rude?’ Katie asked. ‘It’s not like you at all. They are very polite and friendly.’

  ‘They’re American.’ Mattie shrugged at Katie’s look of disbelief.

  When the two Noahs reappeared with the drinks, they all moved to the small quay where Noah Jnr regarded the historical plaque fixed to the wall.

  ‘The history in this place just blows my mind away. I can’t get over the fact that one of my ancestors stood on this very quay.’

  Mattie gave him a sharp look. ‘Went over with the Mayflower, did they?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. My paternal family sailed with the Pilgrim Fathers,’ Noah Snr answered. He took a sip of his beer. ‘Like many Americans, I love knowing my roots are in the old country. Victoria, my daughter, who’s arriving this weekend, is keen to trace our maternal English roots whilst we’re over here.’ He shrugged. ‘But where to start? All we currently know is my great-great-grandmother was born somewhere in the West Country.’ He looked at Mattie. ‘You are so lucky to know exactly where you come from and where you stand in the order of things.’

  ‘You Americans place far too much importance on past events,’ Mattie said dismissively.

  ‘You don’t like Americans, ma’am?’ Noah Snr asked.

  ‘You’re all right in small doses,’ Mattie said.

  ‘Surely the soldiers who were around for Operation Overlord were….’

  ‘It was wartime and I was just a child,’ Mattie interrupted. ‘I didn’t get to meet many. Besides, it’s not something I want to discuss.’

  ‘But what about Clara?’ Katie said, not believing how uncharacteristically rude Mattie was being. ‘She….’

  ‘Katie, I’ve told you – the past is the past. Leave it alone. My childhood and my sister Clara are not up for discussion. End of. Now please can we go home? I have things to do. Goodnight, gentlemen.’

  Turning on her heel, Mattie began to walk away.

  Katie gave the Empreys an apologetic smile, muttered ‘sorry,’ and went after her.

  They were back at the cottage before Mattie said, ‘I’m sorry, Katie, but I find it impossible to talk about Clara with you, let alone with strangers, so can we please declare all talk of the war and Clara off limits?’

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ Katie said quietly. ‘But I still think you need to talk about things. Maybe even have some therapy sessions.’

  ‘Pshaw!’ Mattie said. ‘Modern claptrap. Never felt the need to talk about things. Not about to start now. Right, think I’ll have an early night. See you in the morning.’

  Once in her room, Mattie sat on the edge of her bed. Was she turning into a grumpy old woman? Or was it just the effect any mention of the war and the Americans had on her? Clara had been such a taboo subject for so long, forced to stay in the deep recesses of her mind, that now people wanted to talk about her and the war years, it was impossible. Why were people so interested in hearing about a person they’d never met anyway?

  She sighed. Now she wasn’t working in the shop six days a week there was too much time to think about what might have been. About the life Clara’s tragic death had in turn denied her.

  Taken out of school at fifteen and made to work in A Good Yarn she’d yearned to escape – run away and see the world. Particularly America. Finding and meeting Hal’s family had figured in her teenage dreams for a long time.

  By the time she was twenty, though, her secret dreams had died as surely as C
lara had. Resigned to a small-town life, she’d done the only thing left to her and accepted her lot.

  But things had changed now that the shop was no longer her sole responsibility. Ironically, by giving Katie a way out from redundancy she’d made herself redundant. By taking over A Good Yarn, Katie had given her freedom for the first time in her life.

  Freedom to do what, though? Charity work? More gardening? Take Bert for longer walks? Go away on the holiday she’d told Katie she intended to do? Well, it would be a start – and get her away from the Americans for a bit.

  Mattie crossed over to the dressing table where she’d left the brochures the travel agent had given her. Tonight she’d choose a cruise and tomorrow she’d go into town and book a holiday. An urgent need to get away had rooted itself in her brain.

  SIX

  Katie stepped back and regarded her handiwork. All four walls of the small room between the bathroom and the kitchen on the first floor, painted in two evenings. The cream paint with a hint of pale pink was already giving the unfurnished room a warm feeling. It was going to make a snug bedroom – all it needed now was a bed and possibly a wardrobe or chest of drawers. There wasn’t room for both. And the boxes, moved from the clubroom where she and Leo had initially put them, stacked in the middle of the room, needed unpacking.

  The list of things needed before she could move in was getting longer: a bed and a fridge were the most urgent. Thankfully the ancient electric cooker in the galley kitchen still worked and would do until something better turned up. She’d start looking in the local paper, see what was for sale, maybe try eBay. Hopefully there would be a few bargains around.

  Pushing the lid tightly onto the paint tin, Katie took it out to the kitchen and put it with the rest of the decorating paraphernalia. The first floor was finished. Now she could concentrate on the attic room. Too late to start this evening but she’d have a look and work out what she was going to do – starting tomorrow.

 

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