Riverflow

by Alison Layland

  ‘He doesn’t know if he’s dead. Literally never knew him. His mother refused to tell him who he was, even when she was dying.’ She stopped abruptly and stared across the rippled surface of the water. The river carried her words away and she wished it would turn and flow upstream, taking them back and making them unsaid. ‘Anyway, he didn’t get on with his stepfather and Joe took the place of his father. Listen, Bede would kill me if he knew I’d told you a word of it.’

  Kip had settled at her feet and she stroked him as if to entreat him to silence, too.

  ‘You haven’t said anything wrong,’ Tamsin said. ‘I can sympathise; I’m the only one in my crowd with divorced parents. Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing.’ Her hand drew an invisible zip across her mouth. ‘Tell you the truth, it makes him seem more approachable, you know? I’m still not sure what to make of him.’

  She looked away, her turn to silently confide to the river that she’d said too much.

  ‘He’s better for getting to know, I’ll grant you that.’ Elin laughed. ‘Funny expression, that. Isn’t everyone?’

  ‘Not in my experience. I’ve not exactly been warming to Philip, have I?’

  Elin raised her eyebrows. ‘And how have you been getting to know him?’

  Tamsin pulled a face. ‘Our place has been invaded since Mum took up with him.’

  So their suspicions had been well founded.

  ‘Honestly, it’s doing my head in. I mean, I spend most of my time in my room, but I don’t want to, like, have to, you know? Trying to avoid him – can’t be doing with the sleazeball, but he’s just, like, there. Mum insists I have dinner with them and when he’s not ignoring me and blathering on to her, he’s trying to get round me.’ She mimed vomiting.

  Elin could sympathise. She wondered what Kate could possibly see in Philip, but reminded herself of others’ opinions of Bede. There was no comparison, but then she wasn’t Kate.

  ‘Do you know anything about the car incident?’

  ‘Not the beloved Bentley?’ Tamsin wrinkled her nose. ‘Picked me up from the bus in it yesterday, like I’m supposed to be impressed. Waving at everyone as we passed through the village like he’s lord of the manor. Toad of Toad bloody Hall more like. Embarrassing or what?’

  ‘You didn’t hear about the Cowardly Act of Vandalism, then?’

  ‘Ooh, I’m all ears.’

  Elin told her all about that morning’s visit. Tamsin snorted.

  ‘Genius. Wish I’d thought of it myself.’

  ‘That’s more or less what Bede said when I phoned to tell him just now.’

  ‘So it wasn’t him?’

  ‘Tamsin!’ Elin could swear she looked genuinely disappointed. ‘Actually, he’d have been way more sophisticated. The Engineer, they used to call him.’

  Tamsin grinned. ‘Who did?’

  ‘My friend Fran – you’ve met her – and I were involved with a group of environmental activists when we were students. At a place called Calsthorpe Wood – not unlike Holtwood, really, but it was threatened by a road development rather than fracking. It’s where Bede and I met – Joe got involved in the protest camp and brought him along. Bede came up with some ingenious ideas for lock-down devices—’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know, when protestors lock themselves into something heavy and immovable in front of whatever they’re trying to protect, so it takes the powers-that-be ages to free them safely.’

  ‘Like chaining yourself to stuff? Wow. Did you ever do any of that?’

  ‘A couple of times. It wasn’t pleasant – horribly uncomfortable and it ended in getting arrested – but we just felt we had to do something.’

  ‘You got arrested?’

  ‘It never came to too much, thanks to the support and intervention of the activist community. Anyway, it got to the stage where non-violent direct action looked like it was getting us nowhere, so they got Bede to break into the compounds under cover of darkness and use his mechanical skills to slow things down. A delivery truck here, a digger there… Always in a way that no one would get hurt, you understand. He said there was no way you’d catch him lying down in front of one or chaining himself to it, so that was his contribution. He was a reluctant protester at best – said he couldn’t really see that it achieved anything – but they’d dangle the opportunity to tinker with an engine in front of him as bait.’

  Tamsin laughed. ‘I get how a scratch in the paintwork would be well beneath him. Surely it’s the best argument you’ve got to get Philip off his trail.’

  ‘No way. His actions weren’t exactly legal, right?’ Elin stood up, brushed herself off and called to Kip. ‘Listen, I ought to be getting back. Got tons to do. Do you fancy coming, giving me a hand for a while?’

  ‘Yeah, that’d be great.’

  ‘I’ve been meaning to ring you – we’d love you to help out. It’d only be pocket money and I’m not sure how often. But Bede’s checking out a job today with the guy he used to work with. If that comes off we can definitely make it regular.’

  They walked towards the rutted track through the woods and began to pick their way between puddles that gleamed blankly up at them – slow going as Tamsin was determined to preserve her trainers the best she could. They were about to turn off onto the footpath Elin had come by when they heard the crunch and splash of an approaching vehicle. She paused to call Kip to heel as a jeep rounded the corner. The window swished down. Elin glimpsed Silvan in the passenger seat before turning her attention to Philip’s mask of disapproval.

  ‘You again.’

  ‘Philip,’ she replied curtly.

  ‘This is private land.’

  ‘We’re aware of that. We’re not doing any harm.’ She took a few steps to one side. ‘And this is a public footpath.’

  Tamsin looked at her in admiration and moved to join her, looking defiantly past Philip at Silvan as she did so.

  ‘Not for much longer. I’m applying to have it diverted.’

  ‘You can’t do that!’

  Philip fixed Elin with a stare. ‘If I didn’t have cause to be concerned about vandalism, I wouldn’t have to take security measures, would I?’

  ‘You can’t silence people by diverting a footpath,’ Elin said. Silvan gave her a thumbs-up behind Philip’s back.

  ‘I’m not doing it to silence anyone,’ Philip said. ‘Tamsin, do you want a lift home?’

  ‘I’m good.’

  He rolled his eyes and reminded her about her exam revision, before revving the engine and turning back to Elin. ‘I see you still haven’t removed your junk. I won’t ask again.’

  Elin turned and moved quickly up the path out of range of the mud he was bound to spatter them with as he set off.

  ‘Threat received loud and clear, sir,’ she muttered to Tamsin as she caught up and they headed through the woods before striking out across the hillside. The fields below and to the side were still clear of anything but a couple of surveying poles; she wondered for how long. ‘If we want him to leave us anything to retrieve, that’s our first job.’

  ‘Does that mean we can make a raft? I’ve seen you at it a couple of times before. Always thought it’d be fun to join in.’

  ‘You should’ve come and asked. Not today, though. I never thought I’d say it, but I don’t want to spend any longer in those woods than I have to.’ She swallowed her rising anger. ‘Time to give the tractor an outing. You ever seen an electric tractor?’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Our pride and joy. Well, Bede’s baby, really – he converted it. He’s planning to disembowel the car next.’

  ‘You’re joking.’

  Elin smiled. ‘He threatened to, but I’ve put my foot down and told him we’ll have to recycle a write-off.’

  ‘The beloved Bentley mysteriously dies at the Engineer’s hands…’

  ‘Don’t tempt him.’

  ‘How come you haven’t got an electric car already?’

  ‘There’s no way we could afford one new, a
nd there’s hardly a thriving second-hand market yet. When we first had the idea of converting an EV, Bede and Joe decided we probably do more miles on the land than going places, so the tractor came first. It was probably more straightforward for him to learn on, too.’ She smiled. ‘They were about to start looking for a suitable victim – um, I mean car to convert – when Joe died.’

  She glanced at Tamsin, telling herself she’d given away so many personal confidences already that another little detail wouldn’t harm. ‘It’s one of those things Bede…hasn’t been able to face since then.’

  Tamsin nodded, apparently accepting it all as perfectly reasonable.

  Back at Alderleat, she disappeared upstairs to change into some borrowed old clothes – she was reluctant to go home in case Kate had other plans for her – while Elin busied herself hitching the trailer to the tractor. She was surprised she still noticed how the tyre noise and rattling of the hitching gear was louder than the barely audible electric motor. The between-showers sun glinted off the body Bede had sprayed a glorious purple, her favourite colour and a bid to prove it wasn’t all mundane functionality. The bodywork in turn was usually outshone by his glow of pride, which had hardly faded since he’d first driven it out. Despite initial scepticism, including Joe’s, the electric workhorse had served them well for a couple of years now, powered without guilt by electricity from their turbine. The heavy battery on the back even increased the traction. He liked to pronounce that it was far more meaningful than some protest that was unlikely to make the powers-that-be even pause for breath.

  Tamsin came out of the house, Kip at her heels, and Elin felt sorry Bede wasn’t there to see her look of admiration. She clambered into the cab, looking as though she was going to enjoy working here as much as Elin was having her around.

  An idealist with a vision

  Bede looked up at the turbine. He ran his hand over the texture of the wood, recalling hours perfecting the delicate scaffold. It wasn’t particularly tall; he thought about the white giants taking possession of hilltops and how they wanted to do it differently. This beauty, carefully situated to catch the prevailing wind, was enough for what they needed. He checked the safety harness yet again, then, trying to remember climbing trees as a boy to suppress the nerves he always felt, began to climb.

  At the top he extended the platform, checked it was firmly locked in place and clipped the safety harness to the bracket. This fine day with just a hint of a breeze had come at the perfect time for him to service it before starting the job with Steve. They were quietly confident they’d get the contract and he looked forward to reviving their Sunny Days partnership. Looking back, it was hard to trace how after years of friendly banter, Steve had suddenly snapped.

  Perhaps because when you were wallowing in self-pity and taking it out on everyone else wasn’t the best moment to bang on about how Sunny Days might be better than nursing internal combustion engines at the garage in Halbury but you still weren’t going to solve the climate crisis without more radical change.

  If you can’t say anything positive… Bede barely batted an eyelid as he shrugged Joe’s nagging away. He had always felt that what they were doing was significant, and had tried to keep his growing cynicism light. Obviously not light enough, he had to acknowledge. He’d been stunned last autumn when they’d driven home from a job under a cloud and Steve hadn’t been back in touch. But over the last few days, they’d worked together on the hydro scheme assessment with renewed companionship, and it felt good.

  He spread his arms, face raised to the light breeze, and momentarily lost himself to the elation of the height, the house and buildings below, the river winding its steady way through the expansive landscape. Their world. A movement on the road caught his eye. He watched Philip’s flash car pull into Kate’s drive and fought down a surge of anger. Maybe it was a good thing he’d been out when the bastard had called and laid into Elin. Maybe he’d have really given him something to complain about. Why did the brash idiot have to keep provoking him?

  Forcing calm on himself, he put on his glasses and opened the side of the turbine, ready to concentrate on what he was here for: checking, cleaning, lubricating. He noticed someone walking along the footpath that crossed their land. Fearing the prospect of an interruption, he told himself, childlike, that if he didn’t acknowledge the approaching figure, they weren’t in the same world. They would simply walk on.

  ‘Hey, Bede!’

  He muttered Silvan’s name by way of greeting and grudgingly paused in his tinkering. Walk on, don’t stop, just walk on.

  Silvan stopped and looked up, a hand shielding his spiky-haired brow against the bright sky. ‘Is something wrong up there?’

  ‘Just servicing it.’

  He took a step closer. ‘Mind if I—?’

  ‘I do mind, yes. Need to concentrate.’

  He turned away, his fingers involuntarily checking the safety harness carabiner, each slight movement seeming to make the structure sway although he knew it was perfectly sound. He didn’t have to look to know he was still being watched. He took a deep breath, willed Silvan to go, and tried to think about the job in hand.

  ‘That looks really—’

  ‘Please.’ He barked it out like a teacher to a disobedient child. He had no desire to talk, to explain, to be a show. ‘Elin’s in the house if you want something.’

  Turning deliberately to concentrate on his work, he tried not to let irritation snare him into carelessness.

  ‘All right, all right, I can tell when I’m not wanted. See you later.’

  He paused long enough to make Bede feel guilty before trudging on down the hill. Why should he feel guilty about wanting to be left alone?

  A little later, he headed back towards the house, replete with the satisfaction of a job well done. As he passed the fire pit, he paused a moment to gaze out at the river, lifeblood of the land. The water was higher than usual for this time of year, but the greenness of the spring fields beneath the peacefully drifting clouds gave the gleaming ribbon a promising air of fertility, its concealed threat distant.

  Elin had suggested more than once that this would be a perfect location for a hut or a yurt, somewhere they could offer as a holiday let – make a little money, even have people to stay and help on the smallholding. Joe had been keen, too. Bede had always managed to deflect it while not refusing outright. He wanted to like the idea, but the reality of it made him feel invaded.

  She’d even suggested it needn’t be permanent in her attempts to persuade him.

  Can’t you at least give it a try?

  An uneasy guilt crept up on him. His failure to share her enthusiasm wasn’t exactly outright dismissal, but it was another aspect of their lives where she quietly let him have his way. He’d never even learned Welsh well enough to hold a fluent conversation with her in her first language. And looking back over the last two years, he was aware how close he’d come on several occasions to pushing her away. Yet she’d stuck with him, and he’d vowed more than once to make a better job of letting her know how much she meant to him. He had an uneasy feeling that on their recent holiday exploring north Wales she’d been giving him a last chance, and he was relieved they’d finally turned the corner. It occurred to him now that the escape to the country they could provide for others might be a mobile one, offering Elin and himself the chance to escape more often. He wasn’t insensitive enough to think that this was as important as some of the other issues that hovered between them, but it would be a gesture.

  By the time he reached the yard, he was smiling to himself as he looked forward to telling her of his change of heart. A soft, intermittent murmur of voices drifted out through the open window together with a hint of the rich fragrance of brewing. Elin listening to the radio as she worked was part of the soundscape of home, and he liked the way the hoppy scent of natural creativity warmed the house.

  After a few moments in the switch-room checking and reconnecting the system, he stepped outside to watch the
turbine blades beginning to turn majestically. The movement was only slight because of the calm day he’d chosen for the work, but it was there, ready to continue ensuring their independence. He increasingly believed that his main defence against a world whose ways he resented was to distance himself from it. Elin still dreamed of changing the world.

  Back at the house, he realised one of the voices floating through the window was hers. Not the radio, then. He heard her laugh and tucked the holiday home away behind the defensive wall the second voice conjured. Walking in, he savoured the smell of hops as he would a glass of the beer it would become. Elin was in the utility room, putting the beer to bed ready for fermentation in the large vessel they’d rigged up together. Silvan was leaning against the wall, watching and idly fondling Kip’s ears. Honestly, that soft dog would suck up to anyone.

  ‘Hi, Bede,’ Elin said into the kind of silence that hinted they’d just been talking about him. ‘All sorted?’

  ‘Fine.’ He nodded at Silvan and forced a smile before going over to the sink to wash his hands. ‘Running like a dream. How’s the ale coming on?’

  ‘It’s going to be a good one.’ She chatted about the new hops she was using and adjustments she’d made to the recipe as they followed him into the kitchen. ‘There’s tea in the pot, but it could be a bit stewed.’