by Connie Monk
Reaching for the bath towel she stood up, wrapping it around her.
‘Go down and put the coffee on,’ she said, her casually friendly tone making it clear that she was moving on, the brief interlude over. ‘I won’t be two minutes throwing some clothes on.’
He looked at her quizzically, his eyes shining with merriment. ‘I can think of much better ways of thanking me than giving me coffee,’ he teased.
But she wasn’t to be drawn. Later, she would think about it, but in truth she felt confused by what had happened. To be dressed and sitting together discussing something from the news, something too far removed from their personal lives to stir their emotions, was what she wanted. And that’s exactly what they did, neither of them expecting to find the ease in each other’s company that they had known until so recently. But surprisingly they both enjoyed airing their views on France’s recent turmoil arising from the revolt in Algeria, and their own impression of newly elected President de Gaulle. If they expected the incident upstairs would have made their usual almost platonic friendship impossible, they were proved wrong.
For more than an hour they sat smoking and talking, the conversation moving easily from current affairs to the progress in the garden. When finally she walked with him to the front door he cradled her face in his hands and tenderly kissed her mouth.
‘May I come tomorrow?’ he asked softly, confident of her reply.
‘You know you may.’
Walking back along the lane to the farmhouse, he looked back at the evening and frowned. What was the matter with him that he could have been content to spend an evening with her just as he used to before their relationship altered? The truth was that he had never known a woman like Louisa. He had confidently believed that behind the calm exterior she presented to the world there was passion she held in check, and he had proved that to be true. But even after that he hadn’t expected her to respond as she had this evening. God, but what a woman!
Next morning she drove to the nursery, telling herself that Hamish would have gone off to keep an appointment and her choice of trees would be guided by his sister Margaret. She also told herself that her only reason for preparing herself for his absence was that, despite his assurance of Margaret’s knowledge – and despite reminding herself of her strong opinion that a woman was every bit as capable as a man – she wanted Hamish to advise her. He was doing the work, so his should be the choice. As she drove on to the gravel patch that served as a car park she had an upturn of spirit as he came towards the car.
‘I’ve been making my personal selection,’ he greeted her as he held open the door. ‘I remembered what you told me you were prepared to lay out on trees, and I’ve spent the lot.’ There was a laugh lurking just beneath his words and immediately her mood rose to match his. ‘But I want you to make your own choice without being told mine first and then we’ll compare. We go this way, down to the end of the field.’
It was a morning such as she’d never spent before. The sky was a summertime pale blue even though it was only spring, and the sun shining down on them was pleasantly warm. A nursery at that season of the year was filled with promise. If in the days when Louisa had worked in that dingy office in Reading she had been told she would find excitement, yes, real excitement in walking among rows of potted flowering shrubs and plants waiting to be taken to adorn gardens as spring gave way to summer, she would have brushed the idea aside without a second thought. Yet on that morning the atmosphere seemed to cast a spell on her. She found herself chattering to Hamish as if they had known each other all their lives and when Margaret left the ‘shop’, as they rather grandly called the large wooden shed where she manned the till and served small utensils such as hoes, rakes, pails, garden twine, packets of seeds etc., she felt that in both brother and sister she had friends.
‘You wouldn’t believe this, Mags,’ Hamish greeted her. ‘You saw the trees I thought would suit this lady. Well, I didn’t say a word, I just left her to look for herself and, you know what?’
‘From the cocky look on your ugly mug, my guess would be that she chose the same ones you had.’
Louisa looked from one to the other, both of them enjoying the moment. Her initial resentment that he must have been discussing his work on her garden with Margaret, or Mags as he called her, was so short-lived that she was barely aware of it. With these two it would be difficult for ill humour to get a foothold.
‘I hadn’t realized you two were so alike,’ she said, speaking her thoughts aloud as they came into her head.
‘Och!’ Hamish answered with a grin. ‘But isn’t that the way with twins?’
‘Well, I didn’t know you were twins. I might have guessed.’
‘We look alike, and mostly we think alike,’ Margaret told her. ‘What I lack in brawn I have to make up for with my ability to put the heels back in his socks. Isn’t that so, Hamish?’
‘That’s about it. But your brawn is pretty good, and how would it be if you put it to use on the garden at The Retreat in Lexleigh this evening? Two spades would work quicker than one, and the sooner we can get the trees out of their pots and into good earth the better. We could get the digging done this evening while the weather holds.’
‘Great,’ Margaret said, real pleasure in her voice at the thought of digging the newly turned ground. Then to Louisa: ‘We could never make that garden out, just a long strip of nothing. But wait till Hamish has knocked it into shape, and with the trees at the far end to take off the narrow look, it’ll be great. He came home yesterday full of enthusiasm for the job.’
Louisa thought what a lovely couple they were. They seemed to her to exude contentment and happiness for where life had brought them.
‘Do you both live at the house here?’ she found herself asking, speaking before she stopped to consider that she hardly knew them.
‘Yes,’ Margaret was first to answer, ‘no travelling to work for us. Aunt Hilda keeps house and looks after things, bless her. We’ll tell her that we shall be coming to you straight from closing up here at six o’clock.’
Louisa’s mind took a leap; she was with Leo. The atmosphere in the garden lost its appeal and she knew that this evening should belong to Leo and her. The last thing they’d want would be a pair of strangers working in the garden. He hadn’t said he’d be there this evening but he always arrived unexpectedly and she had no doubt at all that he would come.
‘Not this evening. I’ve already arranged to be out.’ Her answer was spontaneous, spoken without thought.
‘We can manage without coming to the house,’ Hamish assured her, and this time she didn’t argue for fear it sounded as though she felt she should be there to watch them. The idea that she and Leo might enjoy the evening knowing that these two were working outside was impossible. Her mind started making plans.
So it was that after another quarter of an hour or so of amiable chatter she set off back to Lexleigh not knowing exactly what her next move would be. But as she stepped in through the front door she found a note on the floor and saw a pointer towards her next move.
‘Sorry I missed you. I called to say hello but couldn’t hang around as Dad wasn’t up to coming with Ali and me this morning. Leo is keeping an eye on him.’
That was reason enough for Louisa to visit the farm, but not before she had touched up her make-up and re-combed her hair. Partly, it was second nature for her to check her appearance, but she knew on this occasion she was doing it for the impression she would make on Leo.
When she arrived she found him with Harold and Ted Johnson. This was a side of Leo’s character she hadn’t seen before, for while Harold stood close to them nodding his head and with a smile of encouragement on his face, the other two were deep in conversation as they did she knew not what to a piece of equipment she later learnt was a potato riddle. Whether they were carrying out a repair or an adjustment and what it was for she had no idea. If she expected Leo to leave what he was doing and come to meet her she was disappointed, for it was
Harold who left the little group and came over.
‘This is nice,’ he greeted her. They were words that might have been spoken by anyone and yet she knew what Bella had meant when she had written that he wasn’t up to coming out with her. His smile was bright even though his eyes made her believe he was frightened. But why should he be? Here in his own home, in the surroundings he had known nearly all his adult life, what could give him that haunted look?
‘I was out when Bella called. I wanted to tell her about the work I’m having done in the garden. I’ve just ordered fruit trees for it. Is she home yet?’
‘Ah … yes … home … is she home … we’d better ask Leo. I saw her earlier, but don’t know what she was up to … best we ask Leo … I don’t seem to … don’t seem to … muddled …’ He looked at her directly, holding her gaze and letting his unfinished sentences hang between them.
‘I expect she would have come out if she were home, don’t you?’ Louisa answered, careful not to let him suspect she had understood just what Bella had meant when she’d written that he hadn’t been up to walking with her to the village. ‘But we’ll go and ask Leo. I’ve had such an exciting morning at the garden centre I simply had to tell her – well, all of you – about it.’
Linking her arm through his, she steered him back to the two with the potato riddle.
‘Your father wasn’t sure whether Bella was back, Leo. Do you know?’
‘Not to my knowledge, she isn’t. Is there any message for her?’ They might have been mere acquaintances. He didn’t quite meet her eyes when he answered her, just as when she spoke it was as if her words were for all three of them.
‘It’s about the garden. You remember when you looked in yesterday you saw it had been ploughed up ready. Well, this morning I went to the nursery and this evening – the same day as I told them the trees I want – as soon as they close the place to customers Hamish McLaren and his sister are coming to dig the holes. They say if they work hard they can get the digging done in the one evening. I don’t want to hang around watching them working. I’ll probably go to town and see if there’s anything worth seeing at the pictures.’
Leo looked up from what he was doing and their glances met, so briefly she almost thought she had imagined it.
‘At this rate, in another week you’ll have the place transformed,’ he said, just as he might to any casual acquaintance.
‘I hope so,’ she replied, in the same vein.
‘Pictures? Pictures on your own and not even knowing what rubbish you are going to see. Better than that, my dear, come over to us and share some supper. How’s that, Leo? Like things used to be. Your aunt used to come here. Times change, nothing lasts …’ His voice grew softer as he spoke, almost as though he were talking to himself.
Again, Louisa glanced at Leo, as if his consent were needed.
‘A good idea, Dad. Bella will be delighted, that I can promise you.’
Surely it was a charade as much to Leo as it was to her, and yet he spoke with the sort of natural friendliness he would have used to any of Bella’s friends – except that in Lexleigh Bella had none except for Louisa.
So it was that just as the McLaren twins arrived, Louisa was leaving the house to walk up the track to the farm. Despite her lack of guilt, she had a sneaking feeling of shame that she had taken extra care over her always immaculate appearance. She would be careful that no glance or comment between herself and Leo aroused Bella’s suspicions. This would be her first time in the same room as them both since her affair with Leo had started and she felt dreadful, her confidence in her ability to separate her feelings for Leo from her friendship with Bella waning. The situation went round and round in her mind as she walked to the farm. How could Bella not know that her husband had fallen in love with someone else? How much did Harold understand? For she had been sure that morning he was aware of something between Leo and her, been aware of it and encouraged it as if in them he was carried back down the years. And where had those years got Violet? Had she been content with what she had had of Harold, or had she felt she could never be nearer than on the periphery of his life? Of one thing there was no doubt: both Leo and Bella adored little Alicia, or Ali as they called her. If the rest of their world fell apart Ali would hold them together. And there Louisa came back to the beginning of the conundrum, knowing that she, like Violet, must always be on the outside of the family circle – the spinster lady who lived at the end of the lane, the object of the village gossip once word got around from the prying neighbours who were probably already suspicious and taking note of how often Leo visited.
By the time she came to the farmhouse her mood was such that she wished she had stayed at home and watched Margaret and Hamish McLaren preparing the ground for the trees. The sight of Bella did nothing to restore her spirit. It was one thing to mull the situation over in her mind, but seeing Bella so happy and content at the farm, she knew she couldn’t honestly believe that what she was doing wouldn’t hurt Leo’s wife and, ultimately, Alicia too. What if Bella sensed something between them? Louisa thought, miserably, that even if she did, her loyalty to both her husband and her friend would be such that she would probably dismiss it straight away. Aware of her own selfishness, an inner resolve started to take hold of Louisa: she would tell him that she wanted it to stop. But that was a lie; she wanted it never to stop.
‘You’d never believe it, Lou. Leo has had a call from some farmer who took a place not long ago and wants to buy lots. Leo met him recently and they got along like a house on fire. He said the phone rang just as you drove away this morning. They’ve asked him to dinner and then to stay the night so that he and the farmer can discuss things in the morning. He’s a long way away, in Surrey, I think Leo said. So he was going by train and then in the morning the farmer will drive him to the factory and decide on his order, then Leo will get the train home. Isn’t it a shame he’s not here? It would have felt like a real party with all of us together.’ Then, her thoughts jumping towards her life’s greatest interest: ‘Before we eat I’m going up to make sure that Ali is asleep and covered properly. I expect you’d like to creep in with me for a peep. There is something so … so … is it silly to say heart-wrenching? – but honestly that about describes it, doesn’t it, Dad? – about seeing such innocence.’ All the time she talked she busied herself laying the table, lifting saucepan lids, stabbing boiling potatoes with a fork to see if they were ready to mash, filling a large glass jug with water and managing to do it all while her mind was on what she was saying. ‘Heart-wrenching, it sounds like something out of a “penny dreadful” but it’s the honest truth. Leo would understand; I know he would because I’ve seen the say he looks at her. It’s funny though, Lou. I can say these things to you but I would feel embarrassed saying them to him even though I know he feels the same. But he’d never tell me. Now, everything is ready to take up, so shall we creep up and see our little princess? Better take those high heels off or she’ll hear you. My sandals are quiet.’
With Leo not there, although the evening had lost the magic Louisa had anticipated, it was much easier and the three of them ate their meal, washed up together with Harold doing the washing, Louisa the drying and Bella putting things away. Then they played Monopoly. The clock was striking eleven as Bella put the game away and Louisa put on her jacket to go.
‘I’m not letting you walk down that dark lane alone,’ Harold told her. And when she laughed at the thought of being unable to take care of herself or, indeed, of minding the dark, moonless night, he became more insistent. If Leo had been there he would have seen her home so, in his absence, Harold wouldn’t let his offer be refused. She would have been much happier on her own for, even though it was some time since she had consciously thought of that night when he had believed Violet had come back to him, it took no more than the thought of being alone with him in the dark and empty lane to bring back the memory she had tried to put out of her mind.
However, his behaviour was perfectly normal and as
soon as she had the front door open and the hall light on he bid her goodnight. With relief she closed the door, only then allowing herself to acknowledge how nervous she had been.
That’s when she heard a gentle but persistent tapping on the front door.
Six
The caller wasn’t using the knocker, but simply tapping softly on the wood of the door itself, about half-a-dozen taps, a pause, then another half dozen or so. Standing alone in the hallway, Louisa felt helpless. If she left him out there long enough surely he would go home or, if he remembered Violet had kept her extending steps in the shed, was he sufficiently unbalanced that he would climb to the bedroom? The Johnsons had no telephone and if she rang the farm there was no one there except Bella and the baby.
‘Turn out the lights and open the door.’ Relief flooded over her as she recognized the voice whispering the words.
‘But you went away,’ she answered stupidly.
‘Put out the lights, then let me in.’
‘Wait.’ She found herself speaking quietly too as she switched off the hall light, then in the dark ran up to the bedroom. There, first she flooded the room with light before opening the window and closing the curtains. Instinct made her aware that nothing was missed by the neighbours across the lane, and surely that would satisfy them that she had come home and gone straight to bed. Then, closing the bedroom door and running back down the stairs in darkness, she reached the front door and quietly opened it.
He’d gone away for the night; they had hours, with no one to disturb them. She had longed for love for so long, hiding her lonely longing behind a façade of ice-cold grooming and a businesslike manner that gave no hint of the yearning she only half understood. No man had attracted her nor yet been attracted by her despite her faultless appearance, or perhaps because of it. And then she had met Leo and her defences had tumbled.
None of these things were in her mind as she quietly closed the front door and felt herself taken into his arms.