The Feud

by James, Amanda

  They talk of this, that and nothing in particular until Matt has finished a huge slab of chocolate cake and a scone. Then Gran says, ‘You’re on October half-term already then? Thought it was later in the month.’

  Matt sighs and takes a few sips of tea to wash his scone down. ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Not exactly?’ Gran cocks her head to one side, furrows her brow.

  ‘Not at all, to be honest.’ He swallows hard and looks at her. ‘I’ve resigned.’

  Gran’s cup clatters against the saucer. ‘What? But that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do.’

  Matt leans his elbows on the table, rests his head in his hands. ‘It is. I’ve had a spot of bother in St Agnes.’ For the next half an hour or so he tells Gran exactly what’s been happening with much interruption, expletives and exclamations of surprise from her.

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me that Morvoren was out to get you, lad?’ she asks, banging her hand on the table.

  ‘I didn’t want to upset you. Besides, I wasn’t totally sure she was behind it… I have no proof. Nor about Lavender.’

  ‘That badger head has Morvoren written all over it… besides, who else could it be?’

  ‘That’s the conclusion I came to.’

  ‘She’s never forgiven me for taking your grandad. Not that she even bloody had him in the first place! Stupid vindictive cow!’

  Matt takes her hand, squeezes it. ‘Don’t get beside yourself, Gran. I–’

  ‘Damn woman! Hides behind the two-hundred-year feud, always has, but that’s just an afterthought.’

  ‘What exactly happened in this feud?’

  Gran sighs, takes a sip of tea. ‘The story goes that Jory Trevelyar, your great-great… I don’t know, maybe five great grandads ago? Well, anyway, he’s supposed to have lost some land in a card game to Kenver Penhallow – Lavender’s five times great granddad. There was a big row at the time, as Jory said Kenver cheated. There was no proof, but Kenver Penhallow was well known for it and Jory never forgot it. Whenever he crossed paths with Penhallow, he made snide comments and sometimes they came to blows. The next part of the story goes that it continued to fester in his head for years, until one day he got blind drunk and set fire to Penhallow’s barn to teach him a lesson. The tragedy was, Penhallow’s youngest child was in there with a sheepdog that was ailing. They both died.’

  A cold finger ran the length of Matt’s neck and arms. ‘Oh my God! Did he do it?’

  ‘He said not, but his wife is supposed to have admitted to the priest that he did. She couldn’t live with the burden and left Jory. This of course added weight to his guilt and Kenver Penhallow was already convinced because of what had gone before. Two weeks after the barn burnt, taking the child and dog, Jory Trevelyar was found at the foot of a cliff with his neck broke.’

  ‘Bloody hell!’

  ‘Yeah. Grim, eh?’

  ‘And the Trevelyars and Penhallows have been at each other’s throats ever since…’ Matt says, the shock evident in his voice.

  ‘Yes. Though I doubt these days it will mean much to anyone, save the old bag Morvoren… perhaps Lavender. Who knows? When we were kids, by order of their parents and grandparents, the Penhallows weren’t allowed to play with the Trevelyars, or sit at the same table in school. But by the time Morvoren was seventeen she was ready to bury the feud, cos she’d fallen for your grandad.’

  ‘You reckon that’s the main reason she wants to drive me out?’

  ‘Undoubtedly. You look so much like he did back then for a start. Must be like rubbing salt into her wounds, seeing you and knowing I’m your grandma. We were great friends, you see, but she thought I’d deliberately betrayed her. Stole her man with a love potion she’d brewed. Stupid bitch.’

  Matt snorts in derision. ‘Yeah, you’re not kidding. Lavender said they both know about herbs and stuff. All this white witchcraft is a load of claptrap.’

  Gran gives him a half-smile. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that she was crap at potions… compared to me that is.’

  His jaw drops. ‘You used to do all that stuff too?’

  ‘Still do. Not as much, mind you – can’t go wandering, picking ingredients in the fields here in bloody London. But I do get them from time to time. Mostly from herbalists. Mix and match my own remedies. Great for my aches and pains.’

  ‘The things you do learn…’ Matt shakes his head in bewilderment.

  ‘I was the best in Cornwall, I reckon. Morvoren knew it too. Hated it… hated me in the end as it turned out. We fought over your granddad in a field. I mean a physical fight – blood and snot everywhere.’ Gran tries a smile, but her eyes hold no humour.

  ‘Blimey! What happened?’

  ‘She accused me of knowing she loved Terry, but going after him anyway. She’d put the potion in his pint and he drank it while I was talking to him. I’d interrupted them at a dance. If the recipient of the potion looks at the opposite sex while drinking it, they fall in love with them.’ Gran shook her head. ‘Not even sure that’s the case, but that’s what we believed back then. But as I say, she was rubbish at potions and Terry just fell for me anyway… and I him.’

  ‘But if she was in love with him, wasn’t she worried about the reaction from her parents, because of the feud?’

  ‘That’s why I never suspected she could like him! I told her this, but she wouldn’t have it. Anyway, we fought and then she begged me not to tell anyone why. We were both covered in bruises and scratches, so we’d have to say something. I was so furious with the way she’d talked to me and the cruel names she’d called me… I told her I’d spread it around the village… and I did.’ Gran’s voice has taken on a dream-like quality, and she’s staring over Matt’s shoulder as if watching the long-ago scene replay on the wall behind him.

  ‘Wow! Did everything kick off?’

  ‘You could say that. Her parents more or less disowned her for a while. She was a laughing stock amongst our peers and she withdrew into herself even more than she had before. Not long after, me and Terry both had a fox head left on the doorstep, your granddad and my parent’s vehicles were vandalised and pig shit and a maggoty dead rat were posted through the door.’

  ‘Nice. That’s why you said my badger head incident had Morvoren written all over it?’

  ‘Yes. It really got to me after a while, so the next year when I fell pregnant with your dad and your granddad got the chance of the London job, I was more than happy to leave.’ She held a finger up. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it ripped the heart out of me to leave Cornwall, but I was desperate to leave Morvoren far behind me… I’ve never forgiven her for forcing me out.’

  ‘But wouldn’t Granddad have wanted to go anyway? You said in the past that he was ambitious and wanted more than the traditional farming, fishing and quarry work round Cornwall.’

  ‘He might have. But I would’ve talked him out of it, if it hadn’t been for Morvoren.’ Gran winks and laughs. ‘I could always wrap Terry round my little finger.’

  Despite the situation, Matt had to laugh too. ‘You always could make me laugh when I was sad, Gran.’

  ‘I’m your gran, that’s my job.’ She reaches across the table and pats his hand. ‘Can’t bear to see my beautiful boy hurting.’

  ‘I’ll be okay… just need to figure out how to prove Morvoren and Lavender got me in that state – set me up. I was hoping a visit back here might have shed some light on her antics and what she’s capable of. You’ve certainly just done that. She won’t beat me though.’

  ‘Good! Glad to see you’ve not lost your fighting spirit.’ Gran offers him more cake but he declines. ‘Any ideas so far?’

  Matt leans back in his chair, stretches. ‘Not beyond going back to the village and making sure they know I’m going nowhere. That should bring Morvoren out of the woodwork, given what you’ve told me about her driving you out back then. I’ve some savings, so can get by for a bit. There’s no point in applying for jobs in the area until I have some evidence of wh
at she’s capable of. Some kind of proof linking her to me being naked and “drunk” in a car. I reckon she’ll not rest until I’m gone… so she’s bound to try something else. I’m going to get CCTV fitted and try to catch her in the act.’

  ‘I could come back with you. Her quarrel’s with me after all.’

  Matt’s horrified by that suggestion. God knows what Morvoren would be driven to do. ‘No way! I’m not getting you involved.’

  ‘Ha! I’m already involved. Have been for sixty-odd years.’

  ‘You know what I mean. I won’t have it, Gran, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ Gran nods and squeezes his hand. ‘But if you need advice or help, I’m always here at the end of the phone, day or night. Remember that.’

  ‘I’ll remember. And I might hold you to it. The more I know about Morvoren Penhallow, the better it will be.’

  Gran’s mouth becomes a thin line and a determined light deepens the blue of her eyes. ‘Wise words. Know thine enemies, lad. Because Morvoren and her ilk are surely yours.’

  Chapter 18

  There’s a cat dancing on the roof. She can hear its claws scraping on the slates… But cats don’t dance, do they? Lavender opens one eye and realises she’s coming out of a dream. The clock says it’s almost 9am but it’s so dark. Her senses focus, and she realises that rain is pelting down, hence the cat dance. She pulls back the curtains on a scene from The Tempest. Trees bent double, seagulls battling against the fierce wind, a boiling ocean and charcoal clouds tearing across the sky chased by a storm. No wonder it’s so dark. At least it fits her mood over the last few days. Lavender’s tried to process John’s news and plan the next step with Gran, but so far, she’s not had the guts.

  Over breakfast she rehashes the whole thing again. How could Gran do that to her? Her own granddaughter, who she’s supposed to love so much? Lavender feels used, sullied… violated even. It’s not too strong a word. She’s been used against her will. Used as a tool to destroy a man. An innocent man. A man who’d never beaten his wife but instead lost her to a terrible disease. A man who’d never abused children. And now his career is gone, his respect and reputation destroyed. He’s been humiliated, ridiculed and everyone for miles around despises him. And why? Because Morvoren Penhallow lost out in love, sixty-odd years ago.

  In her heart she knows she should just cut all ties with Gran, but that would be so hard to do to a woman who’s been in her life forever. Lavender’s considered telling her parents about it all, but what then? It wouldn’t change what’s happened, would it? Besides, she’s worried about the truth getting out. Mum and Dad won’t intentionally tell anyone, but one little word to the wrong person… She can’t chance that. Lavender finishes her toast and stacks her plate in the dishwasher. She’ll go and see Gran, have it out with her and then tell her she’s washing her hands of her. Difficult or not, the relationship has to end because Morvoren Penhallow is poisonous.

  * * *

  Gran’s cheery smile freezes on her face as she opens the door and sees Lavender’s grave expression. ‘Hello, love. Come in out of this awful weather… Not working today?’ She steps aside and ushers Lavender inside.

  ‘No. I haven’t opened the shop for a few days. Had too much on my mind.’

  Gran nods. Her eyes fill and she puts a trembling hand to her face. ‘Oh, right. Me too, love… because of the last time you came round… our terrible argument. I have been wondering why I’d not heard from you, because I rang you a couple of times, to apologise for slapping you… I know I shouldn’t have. I left a message on your answerphone–’

  ‘I know you lied about Matt Trevelyar.’ Lavender takes her wet coat off and puts her umbrella in the sink. She folds her arms and glares at Gran. She can’t be doing with all this fake sympathy Gran’s trying to pull off. She’s seen it before.

  ‘Lied?’ Gran frowns, picks up the kettle.

  ‘Lied. And I don’t want tea, thanks. I won’t be staying long.’

  She fills the kettle anyway, flicks it on. ‘What on earth’s got into you? I said I’m sorry for slapping you. Everything just got a bit heated over Jamie and–’

  ‘You lied about the things Matt’s supposed to have done.’

  Gran’s neutral expression falters and she repositions the mugs on the work surface. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

  ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about. The fact that Matt’s wife died of leukaemia and he’s never abused children!’ Her voice cracks on the last word. ‘How could you lie about something like that?’ She throws her arms wide, sticks her neck out. ‘Oh wait. It’s because you wanted me to do your dirty work for you, and there was no better lie to tell me than that one, was there?’

  Gran stops making tea, shouts back, ‘He did! My source told me.’

  ‘John Parry, you mean?’ Lavender pauses and watches Gran’s face closely. Oh, she’s good. A moment’s shock passes behind her gran’s eyes, then the bewildered expression is back. ‘We had a lovely little chat in the pub about it all. He said what a lovely man and great teacher his daughter Maureen thinks he is. Maureen also thinks he must have been set up because what happened was so out of character.’

  Now Gran’s shock is more than fleeting. It seeps down from her eyes, slackens her jaw. Gran slumps into a kitchen chair. ‘Um… how… how did you find out my source was John… know where to find him?’

  ‘That’s it?’ Lavender says, incredulous. ‘That’s the first thing you have to say? Not, “Oh God, I’m so sorry I have been such a fucking witch and roping you into it all. It was inexcusable. How can you ever forgive me?!”’

  Morvoren sits there just staring into the fire for a few moments. Then she passes her hand over her face and gives Lavender a level stare. ‘Because I’m not sorry. Not sorry at all. He is a Trevelyar and evil at heart. It wouldn’t be long before he’d do something despicable – so I lied to make sure nobody came to harm. He’s gone from the village – that’s all that matters in the end.’

  ‘He’s an innocent man.’ Lavender bangs her fist on the table. ‘Innocent!’

  ‘How can he be innocent – he’s a Trevelyar!’

  ‘Have you heard yourself? You sound deranged. It’s time this ridiculous feud ended, and you need to let go of the fact that Matt’s granddad chose someone else instead of you. Because that’s what it’s all really about, isn’t it?’

  ‘Of course not. It has something to do with it, but it’s not the main reason!’ Gran’s face is a mask of fury now and she’s grasping the edge of the table, heaving herself upright. ‘If you ask me, you’re sweet on him.’ She jabs a bony finger at Lavender. ‘If you are, you can think again. There’s no way I’ll allow it. You have a perfectly lovely man just waiting for the word, but you don’t want him, oh no. Instead you’re prepared to throw yourself at a disgusting Trevelyar! Remember the old saying – ‘don’t trust a man of neither field nor farm, for he will only do you harm.’’

  ‘What on earth are you going on about?’ Lavender can’t believe what she’s hearing. When has she ever given Gran cause to think that she might like Matt? When he was at hers for dinner that fateful night, she did find him good company and certainly attractive, but only in an objective way because she thought he was guilty of hideous things. Now he’s innocent, she can see him in a different light, but nothing will ever come of it because of what she’d done to him.

  ‘Don’t give me all the shocked round-eyed rubbish!’ Gran jabs her finger through the air again and grabs Lavender’s wrist. ‘I knew from the off you fancied him. When you spoke his name, your eyes sparkled and your voice purred. Matt this, Matt that… disgusting.’

  Lavender pulls her wrist free and is tempted to slap the old crone. She’s sure she never behaved in that way around Matt. ‘You need your bloody head looking at. You’ve gone nuts.’ Lavender shakes raindrops from her coat and picks up her umbrella. ‘I can’t stand to look at you. I’m leaving now, and I don’t want to have any more to do with you. Ever.’

&nbs
p; Gran follows her down the hall. ‘Eh? You can’t do that! I need you to help me get rid of him again if he dares to show his face back here! And I mean to end him once and for all.’

  Lavender whirls round, her wet coat slapping Gran’s arm. ‘If you ever do anything more to that man, I swear you’ll be sorry.’

  Gran affects a high-pitched mocking tone and raises her hands, wiggles her fingers in the air. ‘Oooh… I’ll be sorry?’ Then her voice drops, becomes threatening. ‘You trying to threaten me, girlie?’

  ‘Yes.’ Lavender speaks quietly but there’s menace in her words. ‘If you ever do anything to hurt him again, I will make sure you pay. I will not stand aside and see an innocent man hounded and harmed. You used me as a tool in the most despicable manner – but never again.’ She shrugs her coat on and opens the door to the storm. Immediately, a tumble of leaves blow into the hall and rain drenches the mat. ‘I’m leaving now. Don’t contact me or try to see me.’ Then she turns and hurries down the path and through the gate. Over the wind she can hear the old woman shrieking and wailing for her to come back, but she ignores it and strides on.

  Chapter 19

  Matt’s been back a day and has spent his time skulking indoors. Though it’s a daunting thought, he has to go out and be seen about the village. He needs Morvoren to know he’s back and here to stay. A playful wind chucks a handful of leaves in his face as soon as he steps outside, so he pulls his hood up as protection against it and the prying eyes of nosy villagers. Ten minutes later he’s on the high street and so far, so good. Nobody has spat at him or thrown rotten eggs, but there’s time yet. Matt hunches his shoulders and keeps his head down, then hurries into the newsagent to see Betty. He could do with seeing a friendly face.