‘But ye’ve only just arrived. Where are ye going?’
‘Where I’ve always been welcome.’ He strode off down the lane, away from the farm, away from the place he had dreamed of as home.
He regretted his outburst and his loss of temper as he walked down the road away from Willowburn. Deep down he was hurt that his father seemed to accept Fred’s decisions. After all they were both his sons and he and his father had worked well together. He had always thought they were close. He hadn’t even said goodbye to his mother and he regretted that now but pride wouldn’t allow him to return while Fred was around. He would come back and see her tomorrow when he had calmed down. He wished she had told him that Fred was a partner in the farm. She ought to have warned him he was angling after getting the tenancy into his own name too. Maybe he should have realised Fred wouldn’t want him back at Willowburn after five years of being an only son. Right now he felt rejected, cast adrift like a ship without a rudder. What did the future hold for him now?
His Commanding Officer had tried to persuade him to make a career in the army but his heart wasn’t in it. He craved for the countryside; he wanted animals around him and land to plough and work and care for. He wanted to farm.
It was a mile and a half down to the main road and another couple of miles to Martinwold Home Farm where the Oliphants stayed. They lived in the original farm house which adjoined the dairy, and the byre beyond it. As owners, the Turners occupied a newer, more imposing house which was separated from the farm yard by a large garden. Steven knew Sam’s parents would give him a warm welcome and a bed for the night. He had spent many happy hours wondering around Martinwold when he and Sam were boys but he had seen Sam’s parents only once since his death. It had been a brief, sad visit. This time he knew they would have questions to ask, they would want to hear all he could tell them about Sam’s time in the army, including his death.
Throughout the years of fighting he had never allowed himself to think the Germans might win, not even when Sam and so many other fellow soldiers had been killed. Returning home to Willowburn had been his goal. Now there was a gaping hole in his life. He felt hollow inside as though his heart had been ripped out of his body. What had he to look forward to? He had been bitterly disappointed when he heard his regiment was being posted to Palestine instead of being demobbed. Now it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. His future was a blank, his hopes and dreams smashed. He felt like sitting down under the hedgerow and bawling his eyes out but he hadn’t done that since he was six years old after a particularly nasty bit of bullying from Fred and one of his pals.
It was hot and he was thirsty and dejected. He had no reason to hurry anywhere. He laid his knapsack on the grassy bank and scrambled through a gap in the hedge. He knew the fields like the back of his hand. At the bottom of a gentle slope the burn flowed crystal clear. At least he could quench his thirst. His stomach rumbled and he thought he was a fool to leave before he had sampled his mother’s home cooked dinner. Even with the rationing she always managed to make a good dinner and he knew she would have been hoarding some small treat for his homecoming. Fred’s glowering face was enough to turn the milk sour and it would probably have given him chronic indigestion, or so he consoled himself. But he should have taken more time to talk to his mother. He knew his father loved him in his own way, but not enough to cross swords with Fred apparently. But his mother had always loved him unreservedly, even when he had scraped the knees out of his first pair of long trousers when they were brand new. He grimaced wryly at the memory as he ran down the slope to the burn.
He knelt over the side and cupped his hands, drinking in the cold clear water. He sat there gazing around him but all this was no longer part of him, or his dream for the future. His heart felt like a stone. Somewhere a blackbird was singing. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head, gazing up into the summer sky, his mind wandering hither and thither as he struggled to come to terms with the empty future.
Four
Steven had no idea how long he lay there thinking. He thought he heard someone calling his name? He sat up and listened.
At the top of the slope his mother stood waving to him. He got to his feet. There was no way he could go back with her after fighting with Fred. He had seen the distress in his father’s lined face and he had a feeling he was not as well as he ought to be. He cursed himself for losing his temper.
‘Wait there, Stevie,’ his mother called, ‘and I’ll come down to you.’ She disappeared through the hedge. When she reappeared she was carrying a basket. He climbed towards her, taking the basket in one hand and steadying her descent with his other.
As they reached the burn again she said breathlessly, ‘I still ride my old bicycle so I hoped I’d catch you up, laddie. I would have missed you if I hadn’t seen your knapsack by the hedge.’
‘I’m sorry, Ma, I didna mean to leave without saying cheerio.’
‘I know that, Steven.’ She sighed heavily then looked him in the eye. ‘I knew Fred would stir up trouble but I didn’t expect he’d start before ye’d had time to get your feet under the table and have a meal.’ She frowned anxiously as her eyes searched his face. He summoned a grin.
‘Is that food you’ve got in the basket? It smells good.’
‘Aye, it is,’ she said. She pursed her lips. ‘The dinner was nearly ready but Fred couldn’t even wait until we’d eaten. I’ve left them to get their own. Its roast lamb but I didn’t wait for the tatties to finish cooking in case I couldn’t catch up with ye. Such long legs ye have now.’ As she talked she lifted a clean tea towel from the basket and unfolded it. Steam was still coming from the hot lamb and he could smell the home baked crusty bread.
‘Eh Ma, it makes me ravenous just to smell it.’
‘Eat up then. I’ve brought plenty. They’ll have to scrape the bone for once. It serves them right – well it serves Fred right. You’ll have to forgive your father, laddie. He never could stand up to Fred’s demands, even when he was a wee bairn and now that he’s a man, he bullies Eddy as he used to bully you and poor Sam. I’ve tried to love him, indeed I did love him when he was a bairn, but it’s hard to respect a person who is so idle and selfish.’
‘Never heed Fred, Ma. Enjoy your dinner while it’s still hot. It tastes like nectar from heaven.’
‘Nectar indeed!’ his mother scoffed, but he knew she was pleased and he grinned at her. ‘You always had a fancy way with words, Stevie, the schoolmaster said so. He thought it was a sin when we didn’t send you on to the Academy.’ She sighed. ‘Fred was jealous even over that. I don’t know where he’s sprung from. He’s not a bit like your father. His mother was my half cousin and Eleanor was a sweet, gentle lassie so he didn’t take it from her either. Mind you, her father was an arrogant bully of a man. There’s no wonder his wife died so young. I expect Fred has inherited his ill nature frae him.’ Almost without pausing for breath she said. ‘I brought you a bottle of tea.’ She fished a woollen sock from the basket and extricated a bottle of tea. ‘Drink it up laddie. I’ll make myself a fresh cup when I get back. There’s apple pie for afters. I couldn’t bring the custard.’
‘Aw Ma, you’re spoiling me,’ Steven said and stretched out a strong young arm to give her a hug.
‘You’re a good laddie,’ she said huskily. ‘I’m glad ye’re safely home after all that fighting. Sam was a grand laddie too. Your father and me both took it badly when we heard he’d been killed, but I thought I’d die when we got the telegram to say you were missing, presumed dead.’
‘Aye well it seems none of us should presume anything,’ he muttered. Hannah Caraford heard the bitterness in his voice and knew he had good reason for it. He was the one who should have been allowed to stay at home to work the farm. Her mouth firmed but before she could speak, Steven told her his news.
‘The fighting isna over for our battalion yet, Ma.’
‘Where are they sending you? To India? Steven? Tell me...?’
‘No, we’re to go t
o Palestine…’
‘Oh.’ Hannah said uncertainly. ‘I’d hoped this would be the end and you’d be coming home.’
‘Home?’ Steven raised an ironic eyebrow. He grimaced and wished he hadn’t spoken when he saw his mother’s eyes bright with tears and the patches of pink colour in her cheeks. She swallowed hard. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would comfort her now that Fred had knocked the bottom out of his world. One thing was certain, he’d never be able to call Willowburn his home while Fred lived there. Hannah laid her hand on his arm. His mother was always soft and smiling but now her colour had faded and her lips were set in a firm line. He’d never seen her look like that before. He didn’t realise he sometimes had that same determined expression.
‘Listen Steven, I’ve suspected for a long time that Fred didn’t want you back at Willowburn. He’s always been jealous but he’s grown greedy lately. He wants everything for himself. I’ve tried to talk to your father about it but he hoped things would get back to normal once you returned home. I think that’s why he didn’t try to persuade the land agent to include Fred’s name in the tenancy. He has been pestering for it almost since the day you left. He wears your father down with his lazy ways and his constant demands. Eddy was looking forward to you coming home but he will see now that there would be nothing but quarrels, even if Fred doesn’t carry out his threat to force him to sell up and pay him his share in cash.’
‘Is that what he’s planning if I return to Willowburn? That’s blackmail!
‘It’s jealousy and spite.’
‘But he’d have no job either if he forced father to sell out. The money wouldna last him long.’
‘That’s what I said but he muttered something about going to Canada with his share. Edna, the land girl, has relatives there and she talks a lot about visiting them.’
‘I’ll bet Fred wouldn’t stay long if he went,’ Steven scoffed. ‘He’d soon find he had to work for a living anywhere else.’
‘It would do him good. Your father is working far too hard, trying to make up for his idleness. I fear it’s taking its toll on his health. We’ve both worked far harder than Fred to keep the farm going, and he knows it, but he doesn’t care.’
‘Most of the people round about know it too, Mother.’ He patted her hand. ‘Fred is the only one who never realises how lucky he has been.’
‘I know that. He says some nasty things but I’m not afraid of Fred. Although your father appears to give in to him, I trust him to do what’s right for both of you in the end. He’s a good man, Steven, but he tried too hard to make up to Fred for losing his own mother and he’s grown up expecting to get what he wants.’
‘Well he certainly doesna want me back at Willowburn, that’s for sure. It’s all I’ve thought about for five years and now…’ he turned to look her in the eye. ‘When I see he’s still the same, and when I remember how frustrated I used to get, I can understand father looking so tired and weary. I’m almost glad we’re being sent to Palestine after all. It will give me time to think about my future. Maybe my CO is right, perhaps I should make a career in the army,’ he added bitterly.
‘Oh no, Steven! No, you’d never be happy away from the land and your animals.’
‘We’ll have to see about that.’ He had spoken on the spur of the moment, and with bitterness. He frowned when he saw her face. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Mother. I’ve never wanted to make a career in the army but I see now that Fred and I would never get on together at Willowburn, not even if Father did make us equal partners. In fact I expect that’s what Fred is afraid of. I should have known how it would be, especially after he’s had things his own way for five years.’
‘We understand how you feel, laddie.’ His mother sighed. ‘I don’t trust Fred. I think he’ll keep making threats whenever your father willna let him have his own way. I wish he’d never made him a partner.’
‘I don’t think he’ll make father sell up to pay him his share so long as he’s sure I’m not coming back to Willowburn,’ Steven said slowly. ‘He knows which side his bread is buttered.’
‘I suppose you’re right. He would like everything in his name, including the tenancy. He’s not satisfied with just a share, he wants it all. He wouldn’t get that if he left, would he?’ Steven saw she looked happier with that idea. ‘I doubt if the land agent would grant him the tenancy anyway. He must notice things have deteriorated.’
‘I hope Father would never leave everything in Fred’s name for your sake, Mother.’ He looked at her with concern. Willowburn was her home too and her life.
‘Don’t you worry about me, Stevie. I’ve survived worse blows than anything Fred could do.’
‘You mean when you were widowed?’ Steven asked curiously. His mother had often talked about her childhood but he knew nothing of her life before she had married his father, except that she had been married young and lost her husband. ‘Was it very bad?’ he asked softly.
‘It seemed liked the end of the world at the time.’ Hannah’s eyes held a faraway look. ‘Tom was far too young to die.’
‘Tell me about it. How did he die?’
‘He was at the mill that day. He worked there during the week. A man drove in with a wagon. Something startled the horse. It bolted. The wagon tipped over and pinned Tom underneath. It was so simply done and so final.’ Her voice shook but she raised her chin and carried on. ‘It was an accident and I had to accept it was God’s will but we had only been married two years. I was twenty one. I wanted to die too.’
‘Oh Mother…’ Steven laid his hand on hers; they were clasped together on her knee. She gave him a wavering smile.
‘It’s all right, laddie. I got over it in time and at least we had two wonderful years together. That’s more than some people will have had during this awful war.’
‘I suppose so,’ Steven agreed doubtfully. ‘Where did you live then?’
‘We had a smallholding, not far from Willowburn. It was only six acres but Tom used all his savings to buy it and he worked four days a week at the mill. We had some pigs and I kept a lot of poultry and a house cow. We grew vegetables for sale. And we had two bee hives and sold the honey. It was hard work but we made a living and we were happy. We had both known Eddy and his family for years and I was delighted when he married my cousin, Eleanor. Her mother had died when she was ten so she had often stayed with us. We were nearly like sisters. Her father was a horrid man so she liked to get away.’ She sighed heavily but Steven remained silent, hoping she would tell him more.
‘When Tom was killed, Eleanor and Eddy couldn’t have been kinder, or more helpful, but it was not the same without him, working all day on my own, then the long winter evenings with nobody there. I know it would have been a struggle but I felt it would have been better if I’d had Tom’s child to love. I was dreadfully restless and unhappy, and very lonely.’
‘No wonder,’ Steven said quietly. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Well I survived, as people do. I sold the holding to the estate, and our few animals. I put the money in the bank and got a job. I’d never done anything except help my parents on their farm and then on our own holding so I wasn’t trained for anything, but I was always good at cooking. I went to work for an elderly man as a live-in housekeeper. He had a fairly big house but he was quite frail and he needed company and looking after. His two sons both worked in England.’ She sighed. ‘Life has a strange way of working out. Two years later Fred was born and within the month Eleanor was dead from some sort of infection I think. Old Mr Mathews was very frail by then and he had been kind to me so I couldn’t leave him in the lurch to go and help Eddy. He paid various women to care for Fred. None of them stayed long. Caring for a young baby is a twenty four hour job. Eddy had his own work to do and he had adored Eleanor. He was absolutely distraught. About four months later old Mr Matthews died and Eddy asked if I would go and keep house for him.
‘He paid me of course and it seemed the right thing to do for both of us, but e
specially for Fred. He needed a routine instead of a string of changes and strangers. He was a loveable wee boy then and – and I suppose I was needing someone to love.’
‘There’s nothing loveable about him now,’ Steven muttered.
‘I know. As I said, I think he’s taken after his grandfather. It’s taken Eddy a long time to accept that but recently I think he’s come to see it for himself. I’d been there nearly five years before Eddy and I decided to marry and make the arrangement permanent. Neither of us expected another grand passion. We’d both had that, and the sorrow of parting.’ She frowned and chewed her lower lip.
‘Did you ever regret getting married a second time, Mother?’
‘Oh no. I’d never have had you if I hadn’t married Eddy. Anyway we knew each other well and he was always a kind man, far too decent to deal with the likes of Eleanor’s father, or Fred. We got on well together as good friends; we had a lot in common and we respected each other. I’d grown to love Fred too. I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave him. I suppose we both spoiled him a bit,’ she added ruefully. ‘He started school and he hated it. Then you came along. That’s when the jealousy and resentment started I think. I believe he thought we loved you more than him because we made him go to school while you could stay at home with us.’
‘And the jealousy has been growing ever since if you ask me,’ Steven said darkly. Then he smiled, a swift lightening of his whole face which always transformed him. ‘I’m glad you told me how things were for you and my father.’
‘Yes. Remember Steven, there are many kinds of love and over the years your father and I have found something deeper and possibly stronger than the passionate young love we’d both known. We have a lot to be thankful for.’
‘Well I certainly don’t want to be the one to rock the boat then. I don’t want you and father to quarrel over me, nor do I want to cause him to have a heart attack by quarrelling with Fred.’
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