Larkrigg Fell (48 page)

‘I’ve been late once too often it seems. Today, apparently, was the last straw. Told me I was unreliable. I told them they could keep their damned job.’

‘Oh, Andrew.’ All the strength went out of her and she had to sit down. Now they were right back where they started. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No.’

She slid the candles quietly back into the drawer and Andrew ate the delicious meal without comment. He didn’t even notice her dress or remark on how pretty she looked. Then they went to bed, each to their own side and nothing more was said. She would have to wait for another day to tell him of her discovery. This was the saddest night of her life.

Andrew set out early the next morning to start all over again on his search for work. He hadn’t even laid the fire for her, as he usually did. Beth had meant to spend part of the day at Broombank, working on her own project, but somehow the heart had gone out of her. Everything seemed too much effort. Nothing ever lasted. Whenever she found something or someone to love and care for, she lost it. Jeremy, Pietro, even Sarah, her own sister. It was taken from her as if by some jealous gods who couldn’t bear her to be happy even for a moment. Now Andrew was slipping from her, just when she’d truly found him.

The day seemed endless. She worried over how he was faring at finding work. Emily screamed and refused to eat her dinner. William threw a tantrum and smashed his favourite truck. And Beth cut her finger on a tin of corned beef she’d opened for their lunch. Altogether a dreadful day.

When later Meg called at the cottage, Beth welcomed her with open arms.

‘Am I glad to see you. I’m suffering from a surfeit of children.’

Meg grinned. ‘How about a breath of fresh air then? Down the lane, or over Coppergill Pass?’

‘Anything to take me away from stinky nappies and keep these little devils quiet.’ They dressed the children in warm jackets against the spring breeze, tucked them into the buggy
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and set off along the lane, negotiated the stile with difficulty and headed uphill, over the pass.
 

The smooth track rose gently at an angle, with the hump of Dundale Knot glowering above. Pretty clumps of primroses pierced the warm earth, braving the risk of a late frost, and somewhere in the depth of Brockbarrow Wood, a wood pigeon cooed.

They kept to the lea of the dry-stone wall as they climbed, enjoying the vista of dale spread out below them. Beth could see Broombank and further down, Ashlea, where Sally Ann lived with Nick and Jan. The lush greenness of the dale contrasted sharply with the scoured bleakness of the surrounding mountains.

‘Oh, this is doing me good.’

Meg stopped, her eyes on her home. ‘This is my favourite view of Broombank. I fell in love with it when I was still a girl and have enjoyed every day I’ve spent in it since.’

‘I can see why,’ Beth agreed.

‘How’s Andrew settling in to his new job?’

An abrupt change of subject that brought, for a moment, only the response of silence as they set off again along the path.
 

Beth struggled to find a tactful reply. ‘He’d rather be in farming, but accepts what must be.’ She couldn’t tell Meg that he’d just lost his job because of searching for her sheep. Yet Meg’s shrewd grey eyes were piercing.

‘He misses the animals. That’s plain to see.’

Beth nodded. ‘It’s hard to see him unhappy.’

‘We’re grateful for his prompt action the other morning. We’d have lost that ewe otherwise, and we’re losing enough right now, one way or another.’

‘Did you know he’s been getting up at four every morning to check on them?’

Meg smiled. ‘Oh, I can believe it. Farming is in his blood. We all curse them on freezing mornings and then wonder how we’d go on without them. Tam and I talk about it quite a lot. That incident, and others, have concentrated our minds even more lately.’

Beth cast her grandmother a sideways glance. ‘Why? You’ve no problems, have you?’

Meg frowned. ‘As I say, a few too many sheep are going missing. Maybe it’s our age. Perhaps we aren’t up to the job any more.’

‘I don’t believe that.’

‘We’re certainly not getting any younger, much as we’d like to deny it, and it gets harder to get out of bed each cold morning. Tam says, ‘tis growing soft we are.’ They both laughed at her fair imitation of her husband’s soft Irish accent. ‘And shinning down mountainsides is less fun than it used to be, I can tell you. He’s been trying to persuade me to retire for ages and I’ve almost decided to do it.’

Meg stopped and brought Beth round to face her. ‘But I must consider Broombank.’

‘Of course.’ Beth jiggled the buggy gently as she waited for Meg to get whatever was troubling her off her chest, not wanting her babies to wake. After a moment Meg started walking again, but was clearly in reflective mood.

‘Broombank was handed on to me by a fine old man whom I loved dearly. I scraped and worked hard to pay for it, a low price but it seemed a fortune to me, a young girl with no money but the luckpenny he gave me to go with it. I couldn’t let Lanky down, you see. He always believed in me, and my own father - well, least said about Joe the better.’ She smiled. ‘I couldn’t bear to lose all the work we’ve put into it over the years. It’s a different farm to the one I took on. I’d need to know it was in safe hands before I gave it up.’

‘Naturally. But you won’t give up. Not yet. You’re tired, that’s all, after a long hard winter.’

‘I’m not so sure. Visiting America made me realise there are other things Tam and I could do together, other places to see. It crossed my mind that you and Andrew might be interested.’

Beth forgot all about jiggling her babies. ‘What did you say?’

‘Why not? Andrew is a farmer looking for a farm. We have a farm looking for a farmer. You can continue with the workshops, as agreed, only it’ll be handier for you if you’re living on site.’

‘Wait a moment, I can’t quite take this in. Where would you go?’

‘We’ve decided to buy one of those new bungalows at the end of Quarry Row. We’re ready for a rest, though we thought you wouldn’t mind if we put in a bit of part-time labour at Broombank, without pay of course, whenever we feel inclined. Just for the love of the place.’ She grinned. ‘I can’t let go too quickly.’

Beth’s heart was beating hard against her ribcage. ‘I don’t understand. How could we ever afford to buy it? It’s quite beyond our means. We’ve no money, none at all. And it would cost a fortune.’

‘Did I ask for one? We can talk terms.’

‘But...’

‘We’re family, aren’t we? Tam and I had no children of our own. But Lissa was as dear as any daughter could be. We thought of her as our own for all she was adopted, not even that, only fostered. And you are hers. So why shouldn’t you have it?’

For one glorious moment Beth almost accepted on the spot. Her love of Broombank was equal to Meg’s own and nothing would give her greater pleasure than to live there, with Andrew, for the rest of their days. But then she remembered. ‘There’s Sarah. What about my twin sister?’ How could either of them have forgotten Sarah?

‘Is she interested in farming?’

‘No, but...’

‘Then Sarah will make her own life, probably in a city, and with that young man whom I don’t approve of.’

‘I know you never cared for Pietro, but really he can be very sweet and kind.’

Meg’s lips pursed ominously. ‘We’ll agree to differ on that, shall we? What I can’t understand is why he had to buy Larkrigg Hall. What on earth is he going to do with it?’

‘Family is important to him. Sarah says he’s been given some money and wanted somewhere for them to come back to from their travels. The rest of the time he looks upon it as an investment, and will continue to let it.’

Meg lifted her chin with characteristic defiance. ‘I’ve made my views clear to both of you, on more than one occasion, that I do not trust Pietro Lawson. However, the less we think about that young man the better, in my opinion. I doubt they’ll stay around for long. And Broombank would be of no use to her.’

‘I know she’s selfish and demanding, and ridiculously irresponsible at times, but she is still my sister, with equal rights and all that.’

 
Meg smiled, radiant and loving. ‘No need to worry. I thought Sarah would prefer hard cash.’

Beth laughed. ‘That’s true.’

‘I’ll see she gets her fair share, all in good time. Nevertheless, I believe I may be allowed to dispose of my property, together with my precious luckpenny of course, as I think fit. Speak to Andrew. Send him to see me and we can discuss terms.’

Beth put her arms about her grandmother and hugged her. ‘Oh, Meg. I do love you.’ And she danced her round, making the children chortle with delight at the sight.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘No!’ Andrew said. ‘Absolutely not!’

Beth stared at him. ‘You can’t turn this down. It’s too good an opportunity. Exactly what you’ve prayed for. Your own farm.’

His face was more grimly set than she had ever seen it, lines etched deeply at each side of his mouth, drawing it ominously down. ‘Never.’

Beth felt suddenly, desperately sick. What was happening to them? What hope was there for their marriage to survive if he wouldn’t even meet her half way.

‘Why do you have to be so obstinate and proud? Why, Andrew?’

‘I’m surprised you need to ask. Because its nowt to do with me. Broombank is your grandmother’s farm, not mine. I’ll not accept charity.’

‘Charity? I’ve told you, Meg isn’t offering you charity. She has more sensitivity than that. She says you can come to terms and agree a fair price for the stock and machinery. You’d have no trouble getting a mortgage, it’s a sound business. But yes, the house and land will be my inheritance. What of it? It’s common sense to keep it in the family. Wouldn’t you have liked your own to have done the same with Cathra Crag?’

‘That was different.’

‘Why, because you’re a man? Don’t turn chauvinist on me, Andrew. We have enough problems. And what do I know about farming? I’m not Meg. You’re being over-sensitive and stupid.’

‘So you’re back to calling me names, are you?’

Beth swallowed her anger, fighting disappointment and, taking a firm grasp of his arms, gave him a little shake. ‘Listen to me for a minute. Listen properly before sounding off. I came happily to Cathra Crag because it was your family home. Now you can come to mine. You can live at Broombank with me. I know you’re a proud man and I love you for it but there’s really no need ...’

‘You what?’

She gazed in dismay at the open scorn on his face, the look of scathing disbelief in his eyes. In that instant she felt cold fear clench her stomach. It was going all wrong. This should have been a happy moment and instead her life was falling apart. The aching void between them was growing ever wider, as if it could never be bridged.

‘I tried to tell you once before, but there never seemed the right moment. Then you came home saying you’d lost your job.’ She leaned against him, loving the warm strength of his body. ‘I do love you. Oh, Andrew, it was a revelation to me when I watched you with that sheep. It came like a wonderful realisation that I’ve loved you all along. I know we didn’t start off too well. I had that silly crush on Pietro and it clouded my judgement. But I fell in love you, ages ago, and never realised it until just recently.’

She was laughing up into his face, waiting for him to laugh with her, to take her in his arms and kiss her and say how delighted he was. Then they could go to bed and she would show him how very much she meant what she said.

To her complete horror the corner of his lip curled, and his next words hit her like a rock.

‘Amazing, isn’t it, how everything fits so neatly into your requirements? You decide you want a bairn so you take me to your bed. Now you want Broombank, so you’ve decided the best way to persuade me is to tell me that you love me. How very convenient.’ Then he pushed her from him and walked from the room.

They barely spoke to each other for a whole week after that. Everything had become twisted in his mind and Beth knew that nothing she could say would alter his feelings. His pride was hurt. But she was hurting too.

She went through the motions of a normal routine, cared for her children, spent a couple of hours three mornings a week with Tessa at the workshops sewing her moccasins, and her nights trying not to think about the emptiness in her life.

‘I’m sorry I haven’t given you an answer yet,’ she told Meg. ‘I need to give Andrew time to think about it.’

‘There’s no rush.’ Meg asked if it would help if she spoke to Andrew herself but when Beth declined, she readily agreed to wait, saying she’d enough to worry about right now with the sheep rustling. ‘Thirty more have gone missing this week already.’

‘This is getting ridiculous. And dangerous,’ Andrew said, when Beth passed on the news. ‘The man is out of his mind.’

‘Man, what man? Are you saying that you know who it is?’

‘Of course. Don’t you? Think about it, Beth. We never had any trouble until Pietro and Sarah came back.’

‘You’re accusing my own sister of stealing Meg’s sheep?’