Larkrigg Fell (27 page)

‘Who said I felt sorry for you?’

‘What I’m trying to say is, I understand why you are doing this but it’s not really a good idea.’

‘You mean you don’t fancy me.’ His eyes, the very tautness of his body became stiff with pride. Beth searched her brain for the kindest words she could find.

‘You are a great friend to me, Andrew. But for us to - for you and me - I’m not sure it could work, are you? Too much lingering hurt. Marriage on the rebound isn’t such a good idea, is it? For either of us.’

A long silence as a stain of colour rose in his neck, and in which Beth would have done anything to take back this conversation. Fists clenched at his side, his voice was thick with injured pride. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. It were too soon. Clumsy idiot that’s me.’

‘I don’t mind, really. I’m flattered that you should ask me. Thank you.’ She couldn’t bear to look at him.

‘It weren’t meant as flattery,’ he burst out, angry at himself now. ‘I meant it.’

‘I don’t doubt that you did,’ Beth said, as gently as she could. ‘And I’m really very fond of you but ...’

The unfinished sentence hung between them.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she said at last, unable to bear his unhappiness on top of her own. What a dreadful muddle. She hadn’t realised quite how lonely he must be. Living out at Cathra Crag with two old men must really get to him at times, and losing Tessa had obviously been the last straw.

Stuffing both hands into her anorak pockets she turned and ran across the fell. Andrew did not move until she had crested the ridge, then as she stopped to look back at him and wave, he simply turned away without responding, and strode off down the hill.

‘Oh, God. Now what do I do?’ Only the wind answered.

Chapter Fifteen

One day in early spring Meg and Tam arrived home and Beth and Sarah hurried along to greet them, wisely leaving Pietro at home. They both looked happy, relaxed and tanned, and could hardly stop talking. There were long letters and presents from Boston. Family news to exchange. Meg and Tam were full of their trip, the children, Lissa and Derry and what a wonderful time they’d had together.

‘We even visited some farms. It was fascinating to compare notes with American farmers. Their farms are so big.’

They listened with sympathy to the tale of the accident. ‘You mustn’t blame yourselves. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Except perhaps the dog’s. Andrew had no choice but to put it down. Once they have the blood lust on them, that’s it, there’s nothing you can do. No cure. I’ve known a farmer be forced to shoot his own dog, and silently cry about it afterwards, for all they claim not to feel any great affection for a working animal.’

‘Jonty was furious and then it all got out of hand,’ Beth explained.

Meg said. ‘It’s unfortunate that it should all end in this sad way but you mustn’t blame yourself, any of you. Accidents happen, particularly on a farm where everything is so unpredictable. No one can guess how an animal is going to react.’

‘Tess rang the other day to say Jonty’s still flat on his back, will be for months yet. He has movement in his arms, is eating like a horse and telling everyone what to do.’

‘That sounds healthy enough.’

Beth smiled. ‘She also says they’ve given him a shave, cut his hair and he looks a different man. Long hair and bandannas are not allowed in hospital, apparently. But he has a long way to go. Broken ribs to mend, lots of painful physiotherapy ahead, but the outlook may not be as bleak as first predicted.’

Meg put a consoling hand on her arm. ‘We can but hope, and I’m sure he has the strength to pull through. He has Tessa.’

Beth half glanced at Sarah. ‘Yes, he has Tessa.’

‘What strength that girl has. You wouldn’t believe how she suffered at the hands of that feckless husband of hers. I do hope she and Jonty find some happiness together. She deserves it. I’ve told her, if there’s ever anything we can do, Tam and I, she has only to say.’

‘I’m sure she knows that,’ Sarah drily remarked.

Meg looked at her for a moment, considered challenging the tone of voice and then opted for a change of subject. ‘And how are you both?’ She gazed shrewdly at the twins, particularly Beth.

‘Blooming,’ Sarah laughed.

‘Me too. I’m fine.’

‘You don’t look fine.’

‘I’ve been working hard. We both have. On the smallholding, and the house. What a winter we’ve had. You wouldn’t believe.’ She told her grandmother about the roof falling in, and of being lost in the snowdrift, making it all sound like a merry joke.

It was a lovely, chattering afternoon and when it was time for them to leave, Meg and Tam stood at the door and waved until the twins had climbed the hill.

‘The commune ended in tears then, just as we predicted. Sad. It wasn’t like that in our day.’

Tam tucked his arm about her waist. ‘No, I had you all to myself. The way I like it.’

Meg looked up at him, laughing softly. ‘Go on with you, you old romantic.’ And they closed the door on a star-filled night, content to be home.

The following morning Meg came to see them, with that familiar light of determination in her clear eyes. ‘So what about this roof then?’

Beth felt cold in every limb, her lips too stiff to form the words correctly yet she must have managed it, for they were coming out of her mouth. ‘I really couldn’t say. You were right, Gran. Trying to do the place up was a bad mistake. We should have left well alone.’

Meg looked troubled. ‘Dear me, this isn’t like you, Beth, to be so defeatist. You said yesterday that you were fine.’

Sarah cut in, ‘She’s tired. She fusses too much about the hens and the house, the roof falling in completely, which no doubt it will in the end.’ She smiled her radiant smile. ‘I’ll admit we are financially embarrassed at the bank. We still need to finish the renovations before we can even think of selling Larkrigg. We’re running out of money. Isn’t that right, Beth?’

Beth could hardly deny it.
 

Meg folded her arms. ‘Then it looks like you’d best get yourselves a job to pay for a new one.’

Beth had expected an argument but to her complete surprise the very next morning Sarah put on her smartest suit and drove Meg’s old van into Kendal and got herself a job working in a smart department store on the perfumery counter. ‘Perfect, darling, don’t you think?’

Pietro too found employment working at a petrol station on the edge of Kendal. ‘I fill tanks all day. Boring but pay money, sì?’

Beth smiled into his blue eyes as she set a plate of spaghetti Bolognese, his favourite, before him. ‘Well done. My turn next. Where do you suggest I start looking?’

Sarah laughed. ‘I don’t think so, darling,’ shaking her head and making the ebony curls dance merrily about her lovely head as she laughed. ‘You know what a dreamer you are. You’d be absolutely no good in an office, or a shop. And we need someone to stay here and look after those dratted animals.’

‘We only have the poultry now.’

‘Hens, geese. Whatever. They need care, haven’t you said so a hundred times? And what about all those tasks around the place you’re always going on about? Fixing this kitchen door so that it shuts properly for a start. Finishing the decorating. Building those new shelves in the study. Growing vegetables in your precious garden, and feeding us each night. You’ll love having us out of the way, so you can get on with things in peace.’

Beth sighed, knowing there was a certain logic in what she said.

The next morning she was up especially early to make them both packed lunches, feeling rather like a mother seeing her children off on their first day at a new school. Sarah stuffed her packet of sandwiches into a fashionable leather satchel and smiled vaguely at Beth. ‘I’ll ring someone about the roof. We can’t go on with half of it on the spare room bed.’

‘We’ve no money to fix it.’

Sarah slung the satchel on to her shoulder and headed for the door, high heels tapping on the slate floor. ‘I’ll speak with the bank manager this time. I’m sure I can make him see the sense in having it fixed, otherwise our investment in this house will be ruined. I’ll arrange a mortgage for the rest of the repairs. Get some professionals in. Even your DIY schemes aren’t quite up to re-roofing, sweetie.’

Beth said nothing, smarting at the implied criticism yet remembering how Sarah had refused to speak with the bank manager about their small overdraft. No doubt she’d offer him her most bewitching smile and he’d be putty in her hands.

‘Pietro, are you ready, darling? We’re going to be late for heaven’s sake.’ The sound of her heels died away and the front door closed with a crisp click, echoing through the empty house.

The days stretched out longer than Beth had ever experienced, her once seemingly endless chores now failing to fill the emptiness, no matter how hard she tried.

With the last two hundred pounds in their building society account, she bought a thousand Christmas trees.

‘Now’s the time to plant them,’ the nursery told her, giving full instructions. Beth spent the rest of that week slicing grooves in the thin soil and treading in the young whips.

‘There,’ she said, the wind buffeting her hair and her spirits in a burst of energy. ‘And if I do the same each and every spring, in a few years I can market them.’ It gave her some sense of satisfaction that she too could make a useful contribution.

But her energy quickly evaporated.

Pretending to Meg that everything was fine had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. Throughout the long days of winter she’d nursed her sorrow in silence. What good would it do to cry? Sarah was right. She had refused Pietro on more than one occasion. First she’d messed up their love-making and then had put off the wedding upon which he had apparently set his heart.
 

No wonder he’d grown bored with her shy indecisiveness, as most of the male sex did in the end. It was all her own fault. She didn’t sparkle as Sarah did. She couldn’t be witty and vivacious. She wasn’t exciting. She was dull and rather childish.

And she was also incredibly stupid, because on top of everything else, she’d upset Andrew as well. She hadn’t seen him since his crazy proposal that day by the tarn, but she missed him. There was something she liked about him. He had pride and courage, a sense of humour. Reliable, steady Andrew.

But he wasn’t Pietro. How could she ever love anyone after Pietro?

The silence of the fells seemed deeper now that the house was empty. The skies somehow wider, the wind colder and less friendly. Despite the busy activity of a group of hedge sparrows squabbling over territory, and her very real progress with the garden, for the first time she felt lonely.

It proved surprisingly easy to arrange a mortgage on Larkrigg Hall, since there was none on it at present and two of them had jobs. Derry had agreed to act as guarantor. Sarah felt quite light-hearted with relief as she climbed into the big four poster. She watched Pietro move about the room, carefully folding his clothes. It was one of the things which delighted her most about him. His style and his fashionable expertise. His naked body too was pretty good, firm and supple as a young god, and her fingers itched to touch it.

‘We’re going to make pots of money once we sell this place, and have enormous fun spending it.’

He laughed. ‘I suppose we will.’

‘You don’t sound too sure.’

He came towards her. ‘I am sure if it make you happy.’

‘You make me happy.’

‘Prego.’

‘You like Beth too.’

‘Of course.’

‘I see you looking at her sometimes.’

‘Not as I look at you.’

‘Do you love me?’

‘You know that I do. I wish you to be my wife.’

Chuckling, Sarah flung back the covers and spread her legs wide, tantalising him by letting him see every part of her. ‘Prove it then.’ And he did indeed do his utmost to show how comprehensively he loved her until he fell fast asleep, sated and exhausted.

Sarah lay watching him for a long while, smoothing her fingers over the perfect swoop of his brow, the high-boned line of his cheek. Her last waking thought was that if perhaps he was not quite so vigorous as Jonty in his love-making, at least he adored her and belonged exclusively to her. The dreadful Tessa had got the worst deal after all. Snuggling into her pillow she concluded that perhaps she had got the right man in the end.

Better still, she now had the finance she so badly needed. She was almost glad they were done with all that commune nonsense. One day she meant to be very, very rich, and nothing and no one would stand in her way.

Summer was upon them. Bleached hot days out on the fell, or battling with the new garden, one she sometimes lost in her endless tussle against the wind and weather, every small success a joy. It was sheltered by a dry-stone wall and tall oak trees bent by the wind.

There always seemed so much to do and as July turned into August one eye must be kept on the winter which would surely follow. The log store must be replenished and dried out thoroughly, vegetables pulled up and stored, onions and beetroot pickled, and preserves of every colour, taste and hue boiled and bottled and ranged upon the larder shelves. Beth spent long stifling days over the kitchen range and had never worked so hard, and felt so fulfilled.