The Beekeeper's Daughter (19 page)

Freddie knelt down and felt Arthur’s neck for a pulse. Then he put his cheek to his nose and mouth to feel for a breath. There was nothing. No whisper of the man, just the still silence of death. ‘Oh, darling Grace, I’m sorry,’ he said. Grace was overcome by an assault of grief. It knocked her sideways, into Freddie’s arms. She clung to him in despair and all he could do was hold her tightly and wait for the sorrow to make its way through her.

Grace held onto Freddie with all her strength. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the terrible sense of loneliness engulf her. Her father had been everything to her: father, mother, brother, sister, friend. Without him, she didn’t know how she could go on. Like a ship lost at sea, she had been robbed of her rudder and her sails, and she no longer knew which direction was home. ‘He was there on the riverbank, Freddie,’ she whispered. ‘He had come to say goodbye.’

‘What do we do?’ she asked finally.

‘You stay here while I go and get help.’

‘How did he die? Why . . . ?’

‘I don’t know, my darling. Only a doctor can tell you that.’

Her eyes filled with tears again and her chin trembled. ‘He was all I had,’ she choked.

Freddie held her face firmly and looked into her eyes with conviction. ‘No, Grace. You have me. You’ll always have me.’

When Grace had calmed down, Freddie disappeared on his bicycle to get help. He promised to be as quick as he could. She watched him go, afraid to be left on her own, then turned her attention back to her father, barely able to believe that he had been taken from her so suddenly, without any warning. She hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. That thought made her cry again. She took his hand and held it against her cheek, silently cursing God for taking the only parent she had ever known.

She remained on the grass, her light cardigan inadequate against the chill of evening and the cold that now seemed to come from the very marrow of her bones. Her father’s spaniel curled up against his body and gazed at Grace with eyes full of resignation. ‘You’re mine now,’ she told him. The dog sighed heavily, as if to let her know that he was settling for second best. She glanced at the hives then back at her father. There was no sign of stings on his skin. The bees hadn’t killed him. She swept her eyes over his face. His expression was serene, as if he had simply fallen asleep. If she hadn’t been holding his icy hand she might have expected him to wake up at any moment and ask what all the fuss was about. She recalled walking home from church that morning, and how tired he had looked. He didn’t look tired now, or old. His skin was translucent and the lines had softened around his mouth and eyes. The deep furrows in his forehead had relaxed and melted away. He resembled a boy again. However he had died, he hadn’t suffered. She was sure of that. Perhaps he had simply reached out and taken her mother’s hand.

Freddie returned with his parents and the vicar, all squeezed into Reverend Dibben’s little Austin. When May saw Arthur, she gave a gasp and burst into tears. She helped Grace off the grass and gathered her into her arms. ‘You’re freezing, my dear. Let’s get you inside at once. You’ll catch your death out here.’ Her voice was reassuringly maternal, firm and capable, and Grace let her usher her into the house and settle her on one of the spindle-back chairs in the kitchen. ‘It must have been a heart attack,’ said May as she bustled about, taking cups down from the cupboards and filling the kettle with water. She was efficient and knew the kitchen well. Her warm presence pervaded the room and thawed Grace’s cold bones, lifting her despair like sun on mist.

The men carried Arthur into the house and laid him onto his bed, folding his hands across his chest. May lit a candle and Reverend Dibben said a prayer. They all bowed their heads and Grace cried softly at the sight of her father lying there, never to wake up again.

They crowded into the small kitchen and drained May’s pot of tea.

‘I’ll organize an ambulance to collect your father tomorrow,’ said Michael. ‘Don’t worry, Grace, we’ll see to all the arrangements so you don’t have to worry.’

‘Why don’t you come and stay with us tonight, dear?’ May suggested. ‘I don’t think you should be here on your own.’

‘I’m not on my own,’ Grace replied.

May smiled sympathetically. ‘You know what I mean, dear.’

‘I can’t leave Dad,’ she protested.

Michael caught his wife’s eye. ‘He’ll be fine here. You don’t need to worry. It’s
you
we’re concerned about.’

‘I’ll stay,’ Freddie suggested. ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa. If Grace wants to be here with Arthur then I’ll stay with her and keep her company.’

This idea appealed to May although Reverend Dibben’s lips pursed. ‘Your father is with God now, Grace,’ he said.

‘I’m not having him being here on his own. I couldn’t bear the thought of him . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

May patted her hand. ‘Don’t upset yourself, dear. If you want to stay here, then here you shall stay. Freddie will keep you company.’

Grace smiled gratefully at Freddie. ‘Thank you,’ she said and their eyes were full of affection for each other which no one else could see.

Before leaving, Michael lit the fire in the sitting room and May brought a spare blanket down from the cupboard on the landing and spread it on the sofa for Freddie. She went to the icebox and laid out bread, cheese and ham on the table for supper and popped a couple of potatoes in the oven. ‘We’ll be OK, Mum,’ said Freddie, watching his mother in amusement.

‘I just want to make sure you both eat, especially Grace. Make sure she eats, won’t you?’

‘I will.’

‘You’re a good boy to stay and look after her.’

‘I’m very happy to.’ His mother couldn’t know
how
happy.

May put the salt and pepper pots on the table then stood up with a sad face. ‘What a dreadful business. Poor Grace, she never had a mother and now she loses her father. It’s so unfair.’

‘She’s got us, Mum,’ said Freddie.

May nodded. ‘She’s got us. Indeed she has. We’ll take care of her.’ She lowered her voice. ‘She can’t stay here on her own, you know.’

‘Don’t say that.’

May pursed her lips and said nothing more about it. ‘We’ll leave you now. I hope you’ll both be all right.’

‘We’re not children any more, Mum.’

‘I know, but I’ll never stop being your mother.’ She had to stand on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Be good, now.’ Freddie watched her leave.

He found Grace in her father’s chair. The golden glow from the fire skipped and jumped across her face, which remained pale in spite of the light. When she saw him she tore her eyes away from the flames and smiled. ‘Thank you, Freddie,’ she said softly. He sat on the sofa and she came to curl up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘We’re alone now,’ he said, pulling her close and kissing her head.

‘Except for Pepper,’ she replied.

‘Except for him.’ They both looked at the dog sleeping peacefully in front of the fire.

‘We have to make the most of every day, Freddie,’ Grace said firmly. ‘We never know when we’ll be called back. One minute Dad was in the garden, weeding, and the next he was gone. How strange that one man was taken from me just as another was given to me.’

‘That’s a nice way to look at it. It’ll make it easier for Arthur to leave knowing that you’re not alone.’

‘I’m going to have to get a proper job, Freddie. I’m going to have to . . .’

‘Hush, don’t think about that now. You’re upset. When Arthur’s been laid to rest we’ll discuss your future. Thinking about it in your state of mind will just upset you more.’

She sighed and relaxed again, knowing that she would have Freddie to help her make decisions. She didn’t feel quite so alone any more. ‘This afternoon was such fun,’ she told him. ‘I wish Dad could have seen us together. You know, he was very fond of you, Freddie. He said I couldn’t do better than a man like you. He thought the world of you.’

‘I thought the world of him, too.’ He chuckled. ‘And I respect him even more for his wisdom. He was right, of course. You’ll never do better than a man like me.’

‘Freddie?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are you still hungry?’

‘Yes.’

She sat up and grinned at him. ‘Shall we have our first supper, then?’

He took her hand. ‘It’s our first
date
, you know.’ He smiled tenderly and she gazed back at him with equal affection. The flames danced in her eyes and he wound his arm around her neck and kissed her lips. Grace realized then that it was possible to feel happy in the wake of such unhappiness.

They dined at the kitchen table and Grace lit a candle and placed it in the centre. They drank ginger beer and tucked into the supper May had prepared for them. They talked a lot about Arthur. Grace shared her memories and Freddie held her hand when she cried. But they laughed, too, and in spite of the tragedy, or perhaps
because
of it, Grace felt her heart overflow with love for Freddie.

It was past midnight when they decided to go to bed. Freddie lingered at her bedroom door and kissed her gently. Grace didn’t like the idea of going to bed alone. She hesitated and let him kiss her until she was forced by sheer weariness to let him go. She heard him downstairs as she undressed and prepared for bed. It was a reassuring sound, but strange, too, for she was used to her father’s habitual routine and his slow, familiar tread. She lay beneath the sheets and thought of Freddie downstairs on the sofa. She hoped he was warm enough with the blanket and the dying fire. She strained her ears and listened out for his movements, but she could only hear the regular ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. After a while the house went quiet as if it, too, had succumbed to sleep.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think of her father down the corridor. She tried not to think about her future without him. She tried not to think of all the things she’d miss. If only she could cease thinking altogether – but her mind whirred unhappily in the darkness as her exhausted body waited for the relief of slumber.

She must have fallen asleep eventually, for she was awoken by a bright glow filling the room. She opened her eyes and saw, to her bewilderment, her father standing at the end of her bed, surrounded by a white light, like mist. He looked younger and more handsome and was smiling at her with joy, as if he wanted her to know how happy he was. She blinked, certain that she was dreaming, but he remained, radiating a deep and powerful love. Her heart began to beat frantically but she instinctively knew that if she felt afraid he would disappear, that somehow her fear would prevent her from seeing him. So she remained perfectly still, eyes wide, heart open, absorbing his love like a dry sponge. Then slowly he began to fade, either because of her weariness or his, she wasn’t sure. She willed him to stay, but a moment later the room was filled with darkness again and she was once more engulfed in loneliness, wondering whether grief had induced her to dream the whole thing up.

She climbed out of bed and tiptoed lightly down the stairs. The embers were still glowing in the grate and Freddie was asleep beneath the blanket. She stood in the doorway not knowing what to do. She didn’t want to be alone, but it was inappropriate to sleep with Freddie. But it didn’t
feel
inappropriate. She had known him all her life. Up until that afternoon he had been like a big brother to her. She bit her fingernails as her feet grew cold. Then she took a deep breath and climbed beneath the blanket to snuggle up against him. She woke him up, but his head was heavy with sleep and soon he was breathing deeply again and Grace felt warm and comforted against his body. She closed her eyes and felt a reassuring sense of security wash over her.

In the morning, she awoke before he did. She lay against his stomach. One arm was casually falling about her waist, the other pillowed her head. She longed to remain there, but she knew it was very possible that May would come over early. Reluctantly she crept out, disturbing him as little as possible. He stirred but did not wake. She crept across the floorboards, wincing every time they creaked.

She went upstairs to her bedroom and opened the curtains. Outside, the sun was shining brightly as if it didn’t know her father was dead. She slipped into a dress, pinned her hair up and applied a little rouge to mask her dreadful pallor. She let Pepper out of the kitchen and he scampered across the hall to be released into the garden. The noisy latch awoke Freddie, who sat up with a start, unsure of where he was. His auburn hair was sticking up in tufts and his cheeks were pink. His dark-blue eyes shone brighter against his blushes. ‘Did you sleep here last night, or did I dream it?’ he asked, raking fingers through his hair.

‘You dreamed it,’ she replied.

He tilted his head and grinned. ‘No, I didn’t.’

Suddenly May appeared at the door, carrying a basket of bread rolls, her daughter Josephine a few paces behind. ‘We’ve brought you breakfast,’ she said briskly. ‘My dear, you look very pale. Freddie, did you make sure Grace ate last night?’

‘She ate plenty, Mum,’ he replied sleepily, stretching the arm that was stiff from where she had laid her head.

‘I’m fine,’ Grace interjected.

Josephine caught up. ‘You poor thing, Grace. What a shock! What a terrible shock. I can’t bear to think of you all alone in this house without Arthur. It’s simply dreadful.’ She pushed past her mother and Grace and strode into the hall. ‘It feels so empty now, doesn’t it?’

‘I’ve brought you some rolls,’ said May. ‘They’re fresh from my kitchen. I was up baking at dawn. I couldn’t sleep.’ She joined her daughter in the small hall. ‘The ambulance will be here this morning to take Arthur. Michael called them as soon as he could. You should eat, though, the two of you. You can’t do anything on empty stomachs. Grace, come with us.’ May and Josephine led the way into the kitchen.

Grace followed them and set about making a pot of tea. It seemed that Auntie May was hiding her grief behind a mask of efficiency and activity. She had applied make-up, but lipstick and eyeshadow could not conceal the evidence of tears shed throughout the night. Josephine wore her Crawford Smear in deep crimson. She looked more radiant than ever, excited no doubt to be involved in a drama. Grace laid the table and gave Pepper his morning biscuit. Freddie wandered in, having dressed and wet his hair. He was flushed from the cold water he had splashed on his face.