Across the Sands of Time (23 page)

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Authors: Pamela Kavanagh

BOOK: Across the Sands of Time
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‘You wouldn't dare! I won't. Oh, Geoff!'

Bryony's whoops of joy echoed around the silent garden and slumbering farmyard, bringing a chorus of affronted clucking from Helen's chicken-cotes.

‘Of course I'll marry you. I'll marry you tomorrow. We don't have to wait till the roses are out. That'll be June! It's ages away!'

‘No, it isn't. We're going to do this the right way. Tomorrow, we'll go into Chester and buy the ring.'

Bryony saw the sense in his words and nodded.

‘So we're officially engaged? Wait till I tell Liz!'

And wait till Thea hears, she thought in the next breath. But then Geoff's lips came down on hers and all thought fled.

The following day, Saturday, they went early to town and chose the ring, a pretty platinum and diamond cluster.

Passers-by smiled at the happy young couple who seemed to have discovered the secret of perfect happiness, and when Geoff suggested they stop off at Woodhey on the way back to break the news to her parents, Bryony agreed readily.

They were driving up the bumpy track to the farm when the idea came to her. All at once she was determinedly calm.

She turned to Geoff.

‘Geoff, d'you mind going in on your own and talking to Mum and Dad for a bit?'

‘No, of course not. Why? It's not an attack of nerves?'

‘Nothing like that. There's something I have to do.'

Emotion throbbed in her voice. Geoff reached out and squeezed her hand.

‘Looks as if Chas is back from the fields. Great. Mae should have some food on the go.'

‘You and your stomach!' Bryony laughed.

Having parked the car in the main yard, they went their different ways. Bryony headed for the corner of the old stone barn and the unmade cow-lane, making for the pony pasture where she knew Thea would be.

She found her sister hard at work in brushing the dried mud from caked manes and tails. At her footfall Thea glanced round, pushing wisps of hair from her face, squinting through the small dust storm she had created to see who it was. Immediately her face tightened.

‘Oh, it's you. Hello.'

Ignoring the less than enthusiastic welcome, and keeping her left hand with its band of tell-tale diamonds hidden in her coat pocket, Bryony strode into the field shelter and began to make much of the ponies.

‘Hi, Dancer. Goldie. Hello, Misty baby. Remember me?'

Taking her time, she went round each one tied to the long manger, stroking and petting, plucking up courage to speak.

She turned to her sister.

‘Thea, there's something I want to say.'

Thea hesitated, then lifting a shoulder in a small gesture of compliance, she put aside the dandy brush and leaned back against the manger, waiting. Even in her shabby cords and old jumper, her hair escaping its long plait and a smudge of grime across her forehead, she appeared the picture of elegance, and Bryony experienced a remembered pang of envy.

Never in a million years would she develop Thea's sense of style.

She managed a smile.

‘Thea, I want to apologize for the other day. I was an absolute idiot. It's really time I grew up.'

‘No, it was my fault. I was in a state over something, and I took it out on you. It was unforgivable. Sorry, Bri.'

‘That's OK. I truly didn't chase Geoff, you know, not when you and he were together. You're right, I had a teenage crush on him at one time but I never acted on it and neither did he.'

‘I know that,' Thea nodded. ‘He was flattered all the same. He used to say you were the cutest thing ever.'

‘Did he?' Bryony swallowed hard. Heck, she thought, I'm not doing this very well.

‘Thea, I honestly believed I could explain things but now I'm not so sure. I feel such a little kid all of a sudden.'

‘It's called big-sister-little-sister syndrome. Mum still gets an attack of it when she meets up with the aunts. It's perfectly natural.'

‘Is it?'

‘Apparently. So whatever's bugging you, cough it up, otherwise we'll both freeze to death standing here!'

Slowly Bryony withdrew her hand from her pocket and displayed the ring. Gazing at it for a few seconds, Thea then gave a small smile.

‘Geoff?'

‘Yes. Thea, I.…'

‘It's all right. I don't mind, truly. I accept what you've said and I wish you both well.'

With a little cry Bryony sprang forward and embraced her sister. When they broke apart she was surprised to see tears on Thea's cheeks.

‘Don't mind me,' she said, brushing the teardrops away with the back of her hand. ‘You've caught me in an emotional mood, that's all. Bri, I really am glad for you. Is Geoff up at the house?'

‘Yes, we called to tell you all but I wanted to see you first.'

‘Thank you,' Thea said simply. ‘You'd better go along in. They'll be wondering where you are.'

‘Right. Are you coming?'

‘In a moment. Just the ponies' feeds to do then I'll come in.'

Weak with relief that all had gone well, Bryony left, retracing her steps to the house. Here, Geoff had already broken the happy news.

‘Sweetheart, I'm so happy for you both,' Mae cried, admiring the ring and hugging her daughter. She raised a brow suggestively in the direction of the fields and said in lowered tones.

‘Am I to take it that things are all right with…?'

‘Perfectly,' Bryony whispered, and was hugged again.

Chas, who had broken off a farming conversation with Geoff, came forward, jovial and beaming.

‘I don't know, Bryony lass. If I'd had an inkling you were this taken up with dairying I'd have bitten the bullet and restocked myself. If I were to do that, would you consider giving Geoff up and come and work for me instead?'

‘Not a chance, Dad.' Bryony sent her father a grin. ‘But good try!'

Chas, his broad, countryman's face working with emotion, held his daughter close. Bryony, the last of the brood, the golden-haired child who had captured his heart from the beginning, now about to be married.

‘You'll make a grand bride,' he said gruffly. ‘Won't I be proud, walking up the aisle with my girl on my arm?'

‘It seems to me we'd better start cutting back on cake and pastries,' Mae put in robustly, ‘otherwise you'll never get into your suit on the day!'

Everyone laughed, stopping abruptly when the kitchen door opened to admit Thea.

‘Hi,' she cried, deliberately cheerful. ‘Congratulations and good luck, both of you.'

‘Thanks!' Geoff grinned. ‘Am I going to need it, d'you think?'

‘Probably!' She rubbed her hands, eyes bright. ‘My it's cold out there. Makes you hungry. Is lunch nearly ready?'

‘Coming up.' Mae moved to the stove where a large pan of soup simmered fragrantly.

All in all, it was more like old times. There were still bridges to be built, but time would see to that.

‘Why don't we celebrate, have a bit of a jolly?' Mae said suddenly.

‘A Christmas do, d'you mean?' her husband queried.

‘Dear me, no. That's far too soon for the preparations. New Year might be best. It'll give me more time to get ready. We'll have a proper party, invite all our friends. And Helen, of course, and as many family members from both sides as can make it at such short notice. What do you think?'

Bryony caught Geoff's gaze for confirmation. He nodded.

‘Mum, you're on,' she said with delight.

 

It was New Year's Eve and spirits were high as Richard, Tracey and members of the jazz band left the Irish boat at Liverpool. They had agreed on a short break before embarking on the tour arranged by
their agent. Exciting times were ahead, but for now the focus was on seeing their respective families again and seeing out the old year together.

Except for Richard, who was suddenly experiencing an uneasy qualm at the prospect.

‘Cheers, Rich, Tracey,' shouted drummer Jack Roscoe and his best mate Danny Shine who played bass guitar. Both lived in the same street in Rock Ferry and were making the last leg of the journey together.

‘Cheers, you guys. See you soon.' Richard waved the other band members off.

Laden with luggage and instruments, they vanished into the crowd. Richard and Tracey stood alone on the quayside, surrounded by parcels and baggage. Richard took Tracey's hand, on which sparkled a plain gold band as well as the simple diamond solitaire they had bought in Dublin.

‘No regrets?' Richard said.

‘None whatsoever. What about you?'

‘Don't be daft.'

Richard dropped a kiss on the tip of Tracey's nose. She was a girl in a million and his love for her was absolute. Throughout the tour she'd been his rock, encouraging and supporting. Giving her utmost at every gig, night after demanding night, no matter how exhausted she might have been feeling.

Always a smile, always good to look at, always with a song that just about brought the house down around them. His Tracey.

‘Let's go and find the hire car, eh? Here, give me the heavies. You take the lighter stuff. Ready?'

‘After you, boss!' Tracey laughed.

Richard was quiet as he drove the hired car away from the city, leaving the motorway for the quieter roads of his boyhood. When he had last travelled this way, relations with his family had been less than good. Now, turning up like this – unexpected, unannounced – could turn out a mixed blessing.

What sort of reception would they get?

‘You've gone quiet all of a sudden, everything OK?' Tracey's
voice broke into his thoughts. ‘No prizes for guessing why. You're anticipating trouble with Chas, aren't you?'

‘I don't know what to expect, to be honest.' Richard slowed down as a highways lorry loomed up in the darkness ahead. ‘Oh, they're gritting the roads, we must be in for a spell of bad weather. I hope it doesn't mean snow. We wouldn't want us to be marooned at Woodhey if things turn awkward.'

‘Oh, Richard.' Tracey touched his arm lightly. ‘I'm sure it'll be fine. Would you rather we went on to my mum's instead? We could always come back another time.'

‘No, let's get it over with. I'm not concerned about Mum, she'll be fine. And Thea of course. Not sure how things are with Bryony, but no doubt she'll be doing her own thing anyway tonight, so I don't expect she'll be around.'

‘What about us? How d'you think they'll react to our going ahead and getting married without them being there? While we were in Ireland it seemed the right thing to do. It was a great wedding, wasn't it? The boys made it such fun. And then when we walked into that bash they'd cooked up behind our backs it really made the day!

‘Now, though, I'm having a tiny bit of guilt. How will your mum feel? You're her firstborn, and you know how she loves an occasion. '

‘It's OK,' Richard said, chugging impatiently along behind the slow-moving lorry. ‘It's crossed my mind too. I must say your mum's been great about the whole thing, didn't bat an eyelid when we rang and told her.'

‘Oh, Mum's like that. She'll wait till we turn up and then see if we want a celebration. It's different for her. She's on her own and she's very tied up with her job. It would have been hard for her to get away at such short notice. All the same, it would have been great if she'd been there. I suppose.…'

‘Go on.'

‘Well, I was thinking. Perhaps we could have one of those ceremonies where couples repeat their vows.'

‘A blessing? No reason why not.' A clear stretch appeared on the
road. Richard seized his chance and overtook, glad to be free of the slow crawl of the big vehicle at last.

‘Let's get this over with first,' he said, ‘then we can decide what to do.'

A blaze of lights met them as they approached Woodhey. The main yard was full of haphazardly parked cars. Music floated on the sharp night air.

‘Looks like there's a bash on,' Richard groaned. Away from the stifling environs of home he had felt in command of his life. Now, confronted with his old home, previous grudges and misgivings came hurtling back. One glower from his father and that would be the end!

‘Oh, well,' he said to Tracey, having found a slot to leave the car amongst the random clutter of vehicles. ‘Let's go for it.'

The back door was unlocked. Lacing his fingers in Tracey's, he led her through the fragrant warmth of the big kitchen, noting the table and work surfaces laden with food and drink, the blast of jazz from the music system growing louder as they approached the spacious front lounge.

It was his own band playing, Richard noted with surprise. That had to be a good sign!

The door to the room was open, displaying a backdrop of glittering festive greenery and leaping log fire, and the first face he saw amongst the jigging crowd was his mother's. Spotting the couple, Mae's expression registered shock, then delight, and then seemed to crumple.

‘Richard!' she said in a breathy whisper.

Geoff was here, dancing with Bryony who smiled up at him as if the world was theirs alone. Thea was handing round refreshments and had her back to the door but Chas, sipping a drink, caught sight of his son and the girl and all but choked.

He made a muttered comment to Mae, who put a restraining hand on his arm. Chas freed himself and came striding up. Richard was aware of Tracey's nervous intake of breath, of the dancing couples stopping one by one, of astonished faces and the music throbbing on regardless.

‘Well, I don't know,' Chas said broadly. ‘Look what the wind's blown in!'

‘Hi, Dad,' Richard replied, offering his hand.

Chapter Twelve

C
has gazed at his son, his robust country face working with emotion. Around them the room was falling to stillness but for the dance music on the player which pounded on. Thea moved to switch it off, and suddenly the busy crackle of the huge log fire in the grate and the slow tick of the grandfather clock seemed very loud in the silence.

All eyes were on their host. Everyone knew what a difficult time Chas had gone through since Richard had abandoned the farm to follow his own path in life. Most could see both sides of the coin, but knowing Chas – and those present knew him very well indeed – expectations as to which side the penny would fall didn't rate the younger Partington.

Richard was aware of holding his breath.

‘Hello, Richard,' his father said gruffly. ‘What a surprise. New wife, as well. Hello, Tracey, lass. You're looking prettier than ever. It's good to see you both.'

And grasping his son's hand, Chas shook it soundly.

An audible sigh of relief rippled throughout the company. Chas, his eyes suspiciously moist, took his new daughter-in-law into his arms and kissed her cheek.

The room exploded once more into life. Mae was hugging Richard, laughing and crying at the same time. Bryony and Geoff – holding hands, Richard saw with surprise – came up to take their turn at welcoming the prodigal home.

Thea switched the music back on and the dancing started up again.

‘Recognize it?' Tracey asked Richard.

‘How could I not?' He grinned, hardly able to contain his gladness and relief at the turn events had taken. ‘It's us!'

‘Well, who else?'

That was Bryony, an older, slimmer and decidedly more pleasant-faced Bryony than the one he had left. Spotting the diamond on her finger, Richard's grin broadened.

‘What's this? Don't tell me Geoff has let himself in for it! And I thought him a man of taste!'

‘Oh – you!' Bryony beamed at her brother. ‘The ring was Geoff's idea. Cool, eh?”

‘Very, Geoff, this is just great. I hope you'll both be as happy as we are, right, Tracey?'

‘Absolutely.'

The hugging and kissing continued a little longer. When the hubbub had died down and Richard had ushered Tracey to sample the delights of the refreshment table, it struck him that Thea's welcome had been restrained. His eyes roved the room, seeking her out, but she didn't seem to be amongst the laughing throng.

‘Look after this a minute,' he said, handing a laden plate to Tracey. ‘I want a word with Thea. Won't be long.'

Picking up his glass of wine, he headed off through the wide hallway where more food was laid out on trestles and through to the kitchen. A keen gust of air from the lobby directed him to the yard, where his sister stood gazing out into the frosty, star-filled night, a soft woollen evening shawl clutched about her shoulders.

‘Thea? Are you OK?'

She turned sharply. Richard saw the glisten of tears on her cheeks.

‘Oh, it's you, Richard. Yes, of course I am.'

He gave a disbelieving grunt.

‘Look, sis, I'm sure I don't have to remind you what my credit rating is for observation, but even I can tell that things aren't what they should be. It's Dominic, isn't it?'

‘Well.…' She pushed a lock of hair back from her forehead. ‘Richard, do you mind if we don't talk about this right now?'

‘Yes, I'd mind lots. Tonight's been a massive breakthrough and—' He broke off, surprise and joy rushing through him afresh. ‘I never expected Dad to come up trumps. Do you know, he's even asked what our future plans were for the band.'

‘Well, with half the world looking on, what else do you expect? I know what you mean, though, and I'm really glad for you, Richard. And for Tracey, of course.'

‘Thanks, sis. You've been great all the way along. I don't know what we'd have done without your support … but this isn't what I wanted to talk about. Listen, Thea, I saw quite a bit of Dominic in Ireland. From what he said I understood you two had rather a good thing going. Early days after the Crash, I know—'

‘Crash?'

‘You and Geoff. It's what Tracey called it. She never did think you were right for each other. No spark, and all that.'

‘Richard, please.…'

‘Give over. Putting on the schoolma'am hat won't work with me. This is a night in a million. I want everyone milking it to the full, including my big sister. So what's Dominic done to make you so down-in-the mouth? If he's chucked you over for that scheming ex-fiancée—'

‘He hasn't, so stop jumping to conclusions. These are things you know nothing about.'

‘So? Last thing I heard Dom was coming back here to operate on a horse. I told him the Parkgate practice couldn't do without him and I was right. So where is he?'

‘I wouldn't know. His house is on the market, so I suppose he's in the throes of packing up. Please Richard. Dominic and I are going our separate ways, so let's leave it at that. How's Tracey's mum taking your news?'

‘Oh, she doesn't know yet! But she takes things as she finds them. She's got this zen approach to life. Tracey's got it, too. Lucky girl!'

‘Well, I must drop her a line. Is she still living at the same address?'

‘Little rented place at Willaston, yes. We're going there
tomorrow.' Richard consulted his watch. ‘Soon be time to see out the old year. Coming?'

‘Right.' She shivered. ‘ Oh, the wind's changing. We could be in for more snow.'

Hugging her shawl more tightly around her, Thea gave her brother an over-bright smile and accompanied him back to the festivities.

 

Driving home from school, Thea made an impulse decision to call in at the Harbour House and check it out. It had been ages since she'd been there. What with one thing and another, the time had flown – or so she told herself. Being busy was as good an excuse as any for putting off visiting the place that had once held so much promise, and was now a white elephant of massive proportions.

What was to be done with it?

The snow had gone and the house stood out bleakly on the headland; a spacious dwelling, staunch, white-walled, intended for the thrills and spills of family life. For children and dogs, fishing tackle in the lobby and good cooking smells in the kitchen. Instead, there was emptiness.

Leaving her car on the paved forecourt that still bore remnants of building work – a pile of unused bricks, an old door flung against the wall, a heap of sand – Thea fumbled for her keys and went inside to the waiting silence of the old house.

Somewhere upstairs a mouse scuttled for cover, bringing a frown. Not quite empty, then, but giving more reason than ever for finding a solution to the problem.

Thea walked through the stone-flagged hall into the lounge, her footsteps echoing on the planked floor. In the original stone fireplace that Geoff had discovered when they were renovating, the apple logs she had put there back in the summer of last year still awaited a match.

Thea went on to the kitchen and sat down in the window seat that overlooked the estuary. This was where she had experienced the first of those strange waking dreams that spoke so graphically of the past, the dreams that caused her so much consternation.

In her coat pocket, her mobile jangled with a shrillness that grated on her nerves. She pulled it out.

‘Hello?'

‘Thea, it's me. Bryony. Is it OK to talk?'

‘Yes, fine. I'm at the Harbour House, actually. Just giving it the once-over, you know.' She kept her voice deliberately light. ‘I've been into school.'

‘Oh? I thought the new term started on Monday.'

‘It does. This was a preparation morning. Anyway, it's chilly in here. What was it you wanted?'

‘Well, it's about the wedding. Thea, I know this is awkward for you. I keep putting this off.'

‘Out with it, then. Is it bridesmaids and so on?'

‘Yes. I'm having Liz for one. The other should be you, but—'

‘Oh, I think we can safely bypass that little detail. Why not rustle up another of your mates?'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Absolutely. A seat with the family will do me fine. Mum and I agreed to do the shops together one weekend. That'll avoid the possibility of our turning up in things that clash. Nothing looks worse on the photographs than shouting tones of fuchsia pink.'

‘Mum, in pink?'

‘Only joking. She's actually thinking along the lines of ice blue. Rather striking, I thought.'

‘Sounds lovely.'

‘Quite. Problem solved?'

‘Y … yes,' Bryony said hesitantly. ‘Thea, you really don't mind?'

‘Not at all. This is going to be a beautiful wedding, so just go ahead and enjoy it. Mum's in seventh heaven. The binge of all binges to prepare for! Parkgate will never have known the like. She and Helen spend hours on the phone every night, swapping catering notes.'

‘I wish Mum would leave the food arrangements to us. I don't want her wearing herself out and getting ill again.'

‘She won't. This is a dream come true for Mum. Don't spoil it for her, Bri.'

‘I won't – daren't!' She trilled a laugh, worries forgotten. ‘Right, then, see you soon.'

It seemed quieter than ever after her sister had rung off. Sitting there in what had at one time been the rough and ready environs of a quayside tavern, Thea tried to visualize what life had been like then. According to her dreams, the kitchens had opened directly on to a coaching yard.

Stables could be glimpsed through the open doorway. Travellers stood in chattering groups on a straw and dung littered yard. The blast of a horn and the clamour and rattle of iron-shod hoofs and carriage wheels heralded the arrival of the public coach from Chester.

Thea shut her eyes tight to try to blot out the images that were taking over, but the act had the opposite effect. Dropping from wakefulness to sleep, the pictures came as they always did; vivid, powerful, real.

 

The roar of the wind and the oily slap of the tide against the quay cut through the air, and yet the small group at the grease-spotted wooden table seemed not to hear the noise, so flattened were they by the circumstances they had found here.

‘You've a suggestion to make? A solution to … to all this?' Polly directed a despairing gesture at the ramshackle scullery and deserted tap-room beyond.

‘John, tell us, do!'

For a moment John Royle hesitated, as if he could not find the words.

‘Out with it, man,' Edward said with forced cheerfulness. ‘Any ideas would be welcome, no matter how unlikely they might appear.'

‘My idea would require your combined approval and efforts … and a great deal of trust.'

The gleam of ambition appeared in John's steady grey eyes.

‘You know how for some time now I've been seeking premises to start up a school for boys? It's what I've wanted for long enough, but so far my every attempt to acquire one has failed. Until now.'

Polly and her brother stared, realization dawning.

‘You mean … you're thinking of turning the Harbour House into a school?' Polly clapped her hands together in delight. ‘Oh, John! What a perfectly splendid idea!'

Edward was impressed.

‘It couldn't be more opportune. All would benefit. With your good self at the helm and Polly to see to the boys' comfort and good health.… But what of Father?'

‘Wallace Dakin knows this place better than anyone,' John said. ‘Someone will be needed to see to the outside chores and stoke the fires and so on. Wallace might well agree to the role of caretaker. What better way to make him feel needed and useful once more? And safe from the long arm of the law!'

Polly nodded in total understanding.

‘You are right, John. A school with all of us running it. I'm in agreement.'

‘As am I,' Edward said firmly.

‘The sooner we make the necessary arrangements, the better.' John addressed Polly's brother. ‘Edward, this is your area. Could you draw up the legalities? They'll need to be foolproof, mark you. We don't want the revenue people finding a loophole.'

‘Indeed not. Yes, I'm sure it can be done. We keep the property in the family name and draw up a rental agreement for your good self. That way you will be held responsible for what goes on within these four walls. No black mark against your name, I would assume. The proceedings can go ahead with a clear conscience.'

‘I shall be for ever in your debt.' John looked as if he had been given the world. ‘I won't let you down, you have my word on it.'

Polly's hazel eyes dreamed. Her mind went back to a few moments earlier when John had turned up in the tavern yard and she had once more experienced the joy of his embrace. Had it been merely a gesture, or did he still love her? She hoped so.

She knew she would need to summon patience. First and foremost came the securing of her home … and John was a man with an idea. Knowing him of old, the school and the well-being of his pupils would take precedence.

Polly went to seek out paper and quill to pen a list of requirements for her new position of housemother to a lively bevy of schoolboys.

Over the next few weeks, work went ahead. At the firm of lawyers in Neston the updated set of deeds was duly convened, signed and witnessed. Wallace, wrenched from his stupor by the sheer weight of enthusiasm around him, took up hammer and paintbrush and began working on the house.

At Fernlea, Jessica Platt put in her support, raising money for investment in the new venture. With the proceeds John acquired books, desks, beds and linen. Hanging up his fisherman's oilskins for good, he had the tailor fashion a suit of clothes for his chosen profession.

John Royle, to all intents and purposes, had realized his dream.

Polly, however, hid a sad heart. In the hope he would recognize her motives for what they were, she had put all her energies into John's scheme. She accepted that she owed him a great deal – her home secured, her papa a changed man, herself able to hold up her head amongst her peers.

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