They shared a smile but when Freddy tried to join Marjorie in one of the cars queuing along the lane she pushed him away. When she left the house and walked down the path it had brought back a confusion of memories: her own wedding so long ago, and Ralph’s marriage to Hope, as well as thoughts of Richard’s secret engagement, and she grieved for the loss of everything she had once had.
The solemn atmosphere in the sombre, low-lit church was filled with ghosts, and the inescapable malignant shadow that was her own foolishness. Hope saw her sitting alone and went to stand beside her, with Davy and Peter. Davy offered her his tiny hand and she took it and forced a smile.
There was excitement as the organist began the Wedding March, and a gasp of approval as Connie entered, adding a brilliance to the building as so many others had before her. Peter felt for Hope’s hand and gripped it tightly. ‘I wish I had more to offer and it could have been you and me,’ he whispered softly.
Hope was startled by his words. Did he still really believe that his lack of wealth was the reason she had refused him? She couldn’t bear to have him think so badly of her. Staring into his eyes, she smiled. ‘Just look at Connie and Geoff. Money isn’t anything to do with the joyful expression on their faces.’ She gripped his hand, affectionately moving her head towards his shoulder. ‘Happiness isn’t something you can buy.’
His grip tightened, and she moved just a fraction closer to him.
‘Can I ride on your shoulders, Uncle Peter?’ Davy’s childish voice sounded extra loud in the solemnity of the moment. ‘I can’t see anything down here.’ Peter smiled at Hope then lifted him into his arms and went to stand against the wall.
*
There were two unexpected visitors to Badgers Brook that evening, after the bride and groom had gone off to their secret honeymoon rendezvous. A knock on the door went unheard in all the clamour, and, pushing Sally before him, Matthew walked in. ‘Hope,’ he called when he saw her spreading out more plates of food. ‘Forgive the intrusion, but I have a message for Connie from Phillip.’
‘Too late, I’m afraid. Connie was married this morning and she and Geoff left more than three hours ago.’
Matthew handed her a neatly wrapped package. ‘He wanted her to have this. It’s a miniature gold bedroom clock.’ He declined to tell Hope that Phillip had sold the gifts he had received from Fiona to pay for it.
They stayed a while, welcomed into the gathering of friends. Hope and Sally quickly revived the promise of friendship begun in the Cardiff café. Sally, who had come under protest, continued to be cold towards Matthew, determined to leave him. But she found herself relaxing, warmed by the house, the occasion and the company.
‘This is such a friendly house,’ she remarked to Hope after an hour had passed. ‘It’s as though I wore anger like a cloak but shed it the moment I stepped through the door.’
When they left, offering several people who had over-indulged a lift home, Matthew drove her to the beach where Geoff and Connie had often sat. Getting out of the car they looked across at the island, mysterious now in the darkness, its silhouette just visible due to a faint light over the horizon.
He reached out and gathered Sally into his arms and this time she didn’t pull away. She allowed herself to snuggle into his shoulder and soon, with only a slight movement needed, they found each other’s lips. Their kiss was a promise of a fresh beginning. Just as the dawn would prelude a new day, slowly sharpening the vision of the island, its contours and its colours, their life would reawaken to new experiences, new joys.
*
It seemed to Connie, on her return from honeymoon, that Hope had solved everyone’s problems but her own. In her own happiness, she felt able to demand. ‘Why are you refusing to marry Peter? I know he’s asked you.’
Hope turned her head and looked out at the garden, where Bob and Colin were setting up the long row of bean sticks. ‘Ralph died and I know I was at least partly responsible. How can I risk marrying Peter? I might be the kind of woman who demands too much, wants too much of her own way and pushes without reason until she gets it.’
‘Did you know that Peter’s been searching for the driver of the car that hit Ralph that night?’
‘Why? He wasn’t to blame. I was.’
‘Ralph walked across the road without looking. There is absolutely no doubt about that. He didn’t see the car until it was too late.’
Hope shook her head. ‘He wished he was back in Ty Mawr and was deeply unhappy at the decision I’d forced on him. He was so depressed… The driver didn’t have a chance of avoiding him.’
‘That’s right, he didn’t. The man is quite clear about that night. And he said repeatedly that Ralph didn’t step out deliberately.’
‘How can he know?’
‘Because he still sees Ralph’s face caught in the headlights of the car and— Sorry, Hope, but I have to make you see,’ she said, jumping up to comfort Hope, who was convulsed with sobs. ‘It was an accident. The driver saw that clearly in his face. The shock, the disbelief. He told Peter he still sees that face in his dreams. Ralph didn’t step out on purpose. It was an accident.’
‘He climbed on to the parapet of the bridge and let himself fall into a train. That wasn’t an accident.’
‘Ralph couldn’t face life in a wheelchair. His mind was all over the place. You can remember how unreasonably angry and difficult he’d become, nothing like the man you had married. Some can cope – many people suffering such a devastating injury are brave and strong and do remarkable things with the rest of their lives – but sadly, Ralph wasn’t one of them. You aren’t to blame for any of it. No matter what Marjorie says. If you continue to think so then the accident ruined two lives. Three if you count little Davy. Is that what Ralph, the real Ralph, the loving, happy man you married, would want for you?’
‘I was so wrong to make him come here.’
‘You wanted a home for Ralph, Davy and other babies, where you could all be happy, away from an interfering and over-critical mother-in-law; how can that be wrong? You didn’t drive him to suicide, his broken back did that. So for goodness sake stop torturing yourself and Peter.’
‘He thinks I won’t marry him because he hasn’t much to offer.’
‘Then it’ll be easy to convince him he’s wrong, won’t it?’ Connie became aware that she had been shouting and she hugged her friend and apologized. ‘Hope, I’m so happy that I want everyone in the world to be happy too. Even Marjorie seems to have calmed down and accepted what happened between Freddy and Betty. She wouldn’t want you to let this chance of real happiness pass you by.’
‘It’s this house. It makes people see the important things, relaxes them so they don’t block their minds with trivia, exaggerate problems, become overwhelmed by anger.’
‘Well then, listen to what it’s telling you. Please, Hope, go and talk to Peter, tell him how you feel.’
*
Matthew went to see the manager of the men’s outfitters and came away with a hint that he might be a successful applicant for the position of salesman. He had never felt more dejected in his life. How could he deal with boring customers day after day then go home to listen to small talk with Sally? He loved her but she wasn’t enough for him. He wanted company, male company; he’d never been a womanizer. He needed stimulating conversation, arguments, some ribald jokes, laughter.
He didn’t go straight home but walked to the small park in Cwm Derw, behind the row of shops that included the post office, and sat on a bench. Phillip was living in London so it was impossible for them to meet as regularly as before. Sally’s father was building a lean-to shed and all his conversations were about his new lathe, wood, nails, screws and rawlplugs, and what he’d make once he had a decent place to work.
The house was empty when he eventually returned home. There was a note from Sally to say she had gone to the shops with her mother, and a letter addressed to him. With little optimism he opened it, then jumped out of his chair and began to pace the f
loor.
‘Sally, love,’ he called as he heard her key in the door. ‘Read this.’
‘Let me put the shopping down first,’ she said, laughing.
‘Give it to me, I’ll take it through, just read this.’ He thrust the page under her nose and she read it once, then again, more slowly.
‘It’s a job offer,’ she said unnecessarily.
‘From a firm selling different kinds of paper. Wrapping paper mostly, to shops. It isn’t such a large area as before and I won’t have to work on Saturdays. People in shops don’t want to bother with reps on their busiest day, as I well know.’
‘So we’ll be back as we were before? Me here with the girls and you turning up when there’s nowhere else to go?’
‘No, Sally. I promise I’ll be home most evenings. Instead of writing out orders in hotel rooms and pubs I’ll make a corner of the dining room into an office and work there. I promise it’ll be different. Please, let’s try.’
Sally could see how animated the offer had made him and was well aware of the dread with which he was approaching work in a men’s outfitters. She nodded. ‘But it’s a trial only. I really would be better off on my own than living with how things have been these past years.’
‘Thank you,’ he breathed, holding her, pulling her on to the couch with him, relief weakening his muscles.
*
It was strange without Connie sharing the house, and Badgers Brook felt surprisingly empty. Davy had started at a nursery class adjoining the school, which added to Hope’s growing sense of isolation. Connie called often and sometimes helped Joyce and Hope with some of the simpler sewing tasks. Stella and Kitty popped in and usually left together, chattering about garden matters and commiserating about husbands who brought mud into the house. Peter hadn’t called for several days.
A week after Connie returned, Hope asked her if she would stay with Davy while she went to deliver newly made curtains to Marjorie and Freddy at their new home. It wasn’t theirs for another couple of weeks but permission had been given for measuring and cleaning. ‘They’re both there today pulling off wallpaper and washing walls, even though they aren’t supposed to. Freddy doesn’t want to dampen Marjorie’s enthusiasm, so he’s playing dumb,’ she explained.
‘While you’re out, why don’t you call and see if Peter’s at the shop? He’ll be busy preparing to move in, too.’
‘I haven’t got the time, there’s Davy’s tea and—’
‘I’ll take him home and he can eat with Geoff and me. We’ll bring him back at seven tired out and ready for bed,’ Connie promised briskly, not giving her a chance to argue.
*
The empty shop had once been a second-hand clothes shop, and the mustiness of the old stock had remained. Peter had hired cleaners and the walls and floors had been washed and the basement emptied of the clutter abandoned by the previous owners. He was busy tiling a wall when Hope walked in.
‘Peter! I’m amazed at what you’ve done!’
‘Hope, what a lovely surprise, I’ll just finish this section and them we’ll have a cup of tea. Where’s Davy?’
‘Don’t stop, I’ll find the kitchen.’ She dropped the bags she’d been carrying on to the counter and went into the room at the back, calling, ‘Davy’s with Connie and Geoff, and I’ve come to help.’
They stopped for a few moments to drink tea and eat the cakes she had brought. Then, while Peter continued with the tiling Hope went through to where the walls were ready for painting. The brushes and paint tins had been donated by Geoff. ‘Old stock,’ he had insisted, but the colours were exactly what Peter had chosen after discussion with Hope and he suspected the gift was another example of Geoff’s kindness.
They worked together for most of the afternoon and for several following. Peter’s vegetable round filled the mornings and when he returned and stabled Jason he found Hope already there, working. He always asked her preferences when a colour or floor covering was discussed, but she was careful not to be too definite in her replies. ‘It isn’t my home and never will be,’ she told Connie firmly. ‘The choices have to be Peter’s.’
*
It was about that time that things began to happen in Badgers Brook. Although the spring weather was warming the earth and everywhere new growth was appearing, inside the place felt cold. For the first time Hope felt a lack of welcome as she stepped through the doors. When Marjorie and Freddy moved into their cottage and left just herself and Davy it became even more apparent. ‘Kitty,’ she told her friend one March morning, ‘I know you’ll laugh at me but I feel that the house is telling me I should leave.’
‘It’s time to move on, your problems are behind you and your happiness is secure, if you have the sense to grasp it.’
‘Oh, Kitty, don’t get all mystical on me. My being fanciful is bad enough, but not you too. I depend on your rationality!’ Hope said with a laugh, but although she jeered she knew she was right, the house wanted her to leave.
‘It’s nonsense, but if it were true, why now? I have nowhere to go. Davy and I are so happy here why should I want to leave?’
‘Better things are out there.‘
‘Peter, you mean? You know I can’t remarry.’
‘You don’t love him?’
‘That isn’t the reason for refusing. I’m afraid of hurting him, causing him unhappiness.’
‘Shouldn’t he be the one to decide on the risk?’
*
‘Really, Stella, I could shake the pair of them,’ Kitty said later when she called at the post office just as it was closing. ‘Made for each other they are, and him afraid because he isn’t rich and she afraid because, well, I’m not sure what she’s worried about really. They want a good push.’
‘I don’t think her excuses are the real reason. I believe Hope’s trouble is fear of offending Marjorie. Having a grieving mother-in-law hovering about when you remarry must be difficult to someone as kind and sensitive as Hope.’
‘I wonder…’ Kitty began. Then without explanation she added. ‘It’s about time Marjorie did something to make up for her behaviour, don’t you think?’
Bemused, Stella could only nod.
*
‘Stella has asked me to paint the outside of her shed,’ Peter told Hope one Sunday morning. ‘Want to bring Davy and sit in the sun and watch?’
‘Don’t you mean her country cottage?’ Hope teased, explaining that Davy couldn’t go as he was promised a visit to his grandparents’ future home and a first sight of the beginnings of his tree house. ‘But why ask you? You have so much to do on your new shop, and, besides, she and Colin love working on the place.’
‘A surprise for Colin apparently.’
The weather was dull and there was a chill in the air. Peter called for Hope and they went down on borrowed bicycles to the allotments. They worked together and it didn’t take very long. Afterwards they sat on Stella’s garden chairs, inside the shed, sipping coffee from a flask Peter had brought. The sound of voices made them sit up. Could it be Stella and Colin to inspect their work? They soon recognized Marjorie’s voice. Hope went to get up and greet her parents-in-law but Peter held her back.
The voices stopped at the back of the wooden hut and Marjorie was heard to say, ‘I despair of Hope, Freddy. She’s very stupid, isn’t she?’
Again Hope struggled to rise and Peter held her close.
‘She may be stupid, Marjorie, but it’s only because she’s so kind.’
‘Kind? To deprive that boy of a decent father? Peter loves David as much as he loves Hope, anyone can see that. And Hope loves Peter. So why is she so afraid of offending me that she’ll let it all go? Am I such an ogre, Freddy?’
Freddy’s murmured assurances faded as the couple walked away. They didn’t heard Marjorie ask, ‘Did I do well, Freddy? Was I convincing, d’you think?’
Peter released Hope but didn’t quite let her go. ‘Marry me,’ he said simply. ‘It must be right if Marjorie agrees it would be a sensible thing to
do.’
‘Sensible?’ she queried.
‘Only in that I’ll lose my mind completely if I don’t get an answer soon.’
She said nothing as they began to clear up, but he didn’t feel dejected. This wasn’t the place for such a momentous answer, he knew that.
Back at Badgers Brook, where the evening sun shone through the back windows of the comfortable lounge and warmed them, she turned and smiled at him. He thought of all the words he’d planned, about having little to offer and how hard he’d work to provide for them, but in a moment of clarity he knew these were not the important things: they were taken for granted, part of caring, and the love he had for her and Davy.
‘I love you, both of you, and I’ll love you for ever,’ he promised.
She moved into his arms, and, as a gust of wind touched the building, it seemed that Badgers Brook sighed in contentment.
First published in United Kingdom in 2004 by Severn House Publishers Ltd
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2016 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © 2004 by Grace Thompson
The moral right of Grace Thompson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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