Authors: Margaret Dickinson
He hesitated before saying, ‘No, but it will destroy me Mam.’
‘Actually, I think your mother would rather like to know what his mystery illness was. After all, that was what killed him, in a way.’
‘I don’t understand what you mean.’
‘Like you say, perhaps he was careless because he wasn’t feeling well and, because of that, your mother seems to be blaming herself.’
‘How can she?’
Again Maddie shrugged. ‘Her cooking, I suppose.’
‘What? You mean, she thinks her cooking made him sick? That’s stupid.’
‘Of course it is. I know that. But again, it’s because she’s so upset. She’s not thinking clearly.’
Suddenly, she felt sorry for the distressed young man. He must have looked upon Frank as his father. She reached out and patted his arm. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll be all right. I
must go. You just look after your mam.’
After his harsh words earlier, she dared not ask him to do any work in the greenhouses.
‘Of course we’ll look after him,’ Mrs Grange bustled round the counter, her hands outstretched already to pluck the child from his pram. ‘I’m so
sorry for your trouble, lass. Mr Frank was a good man. A kind man. Look how he took you into his home and looked after you.’
Maddie felt a lump in her throat and could only nod.
‘And you’re not the first, neither. There, there, my little man. My word, you grow every time I see you. He’ll be walking afore you know it, Maddie.’ She raised her
voice. ‘Jenny. You there, love? Adam’s here.’
Maddie smiled faintly to find herself ignored.
Jenny appeared and hugged her. ‘Oh Maddie, isn’t it dreadful? Have – have you sent word to Michael?’
In her embrace, Maddie stiffened. ‘There’s not much point. Nick’s just been to see him to tell him how desperately ill his father is – was. But he didn’t want to
know.’
‘Oh, so that’s why Steven saw Nick on his bike the other night, riding through the village?’
Maddie nodded. ‘Yes, he only got back last night.’
‘No, this was the night before last. Late, it was. Gone midnight.’
Maddie shook her head. ‘No, it couldn’t have been Nick. That was the night he was away, seeing Michael.’
‘Steven must have got it wrong then,’ Jenny shrugged and went on, ‘and you say Michael didn’t want to come home to see his father even though he was so ill.’
Maddie bit her lip to stop it trembling.
Jenny was appalled. ‘That’s terrible. But even so, I think Michael has a right to know what’s happened now. After all, he’s Mr Frank’s heir, isn’t
he?’
‘No,’ Maddie shook her head. ‘I am. And after me, Adam. He told me that he’d made a new Will and – and cut Michael out of it entirely.’
‘Oh no,’ Jenny breathed. ‘I never realized he was so bitter.’
‘I didn’t, until he told me that. It was after Nick had been to see Michael several times and then the last time he went, I mean before this time, he came back with the message that
Michael had no intention of ever coming home again. So . . .’ She sighed heavily. ‘He made a new Will.’
Jenny bit her lip. ‘But I still think you should send word to Michael. Somehow. It’s his
father
.’
The two girls stared at each other, both thinking the same thing. If we had only known our father, then we wouldn’t treat him this way whatever family quarrel there had been.
‘I must go,’ Maddie said flatly. She raised her voice as she added, ‘Thanks for looking after Adam, Mrs Grange.’
‘It’s a pleasure, love. Any time.’ And she knew the woman meant it.
It was not until she was on the bus to Wellandon that she remembered Mrs Grange’s words. ‘And you’re not the first he’s taken in, neither.’
‘The doctor has signed the death certificate. The blow on the head when he fell killed him.’
‘So,’ Nick said slowly. ‘It wasn’t anything to do with the electricity then?’
Maddie shook her head. ‘No, the expert they sent out said he couldn’t find anything wrong on the control panel, or anywhere else for that matter.’ She frowned as she murmured,
‘So we still don’t know what caused the lights to go out in the first place.’
To this, Nick said nothing. Instead he asked, ‘So, what have they put as the cause of death?’
Maddie dropped the piece of paper onto the table. ‘Read it for yourself. It’s all in long medical words that I don’t understand.’ Still, she could not erase the dreadful
picture from her mind of how she had found Frank. ‘Where’s your mother, Nick? I’d better talk to her.’
‘You do what you like. You’re his wife.’
Well, it wasn’t taking very long for Harriet Trowbridge to get back to her normal, resentful self, Maddie thought wryly. ‘But what would he have wanted? To be buried in the village
churchyard?’
‘Where else? He’s lived here all his life. His wife’s buried there.’ There was a malicious gleam in her eyes as she said, ‘I’m sure he’d want to be put
next to her.’
Maddie ignored the intended slight. ‘And the service? What sort of service would he want?’
‘Well, he wouldn’t have wanted a fuss, if that’s what you mean.’
In a low voice, Maddie said, ‘But he’d have wanted his son here, wouldn’t he?’
To this, Harriet made no reply.
‘I’m not going traipsing after him again,’ Nick declared. ‘It’s a waste of time. He won’t come. I’ll write to the camp. At least I
know where he is at the moment and the letter won’t get passed from one camp to the next like I did when I went looking for him.’
‘Is that what happened?’
‘Oh, you don’t know the half of it. You haven’t asked, have you?’
‘Nick, I’m sorry. I . . .’
Suddenly, he smiled the smile that lit up his whole face and he put his arm about her shoulders. ‘No, I’m sorry, Maddie.’
Before she could stop herself, she felt herself stiffen under his touch, but she managed to smile at him and say, ‘It’s all right, Nick. We’re all upset by what’s
happened. But we’ve got to stick together and help each other.’
‘Oh Maddie,’ he whispered close to her ear. ‘You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that.’
‘I can’t face it. I can’t go.’
Harriet sat at the kitchen table in a flood of tears. ‘I can’t face all those prying eyes, all the gossip going on around me.’
Maddie looked down at the woman with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation. Why on earth couldn’t she pull herself together and attend Frank’s funeral?
She tried to keep her voice level as she said, ‘If anyone’s going to be gossiped about, I should think it’ll be me, not you.’
‘Oho, you don’t know the village folk like I do. They’ve long memories and long knives.’
‘We’ll be with you. Nick and me. We won’t leave you.’
‘What about the baby? I’ll stay here and look after the baby.’
‘Mrs Grange is going to have Adam. She’ll bring him to the church, but if he cries then she’ll take him straight out.’
‘See . . .’ Fresh tears flowed. ‘You don’t even trust me to look after him now.’
Maddie sighed, but managed to hold on to her patience. ‘I never thought for a moment that you wouldn’t want to come to Frank’s funeral. He’d want you there. You know he
would.’
She sniffled miserably. ‘Well, if you put it like that.’
‘I do put it like that. Never mind the nosy parkers from the village. What do they matter? Think what Frank would have wanted.’
It seemed the whole village was there when Frank was laid beside his first wife. Maddie read the headstone. ‘In Loving Memory of Elizabeth, beloved wife of Frank
Brackenbury, who died 1st October 1929, aged 23’. She would see that Frank had a similar headstone, Maddie promised silently. For she had loved him, she realized now. Oh, not in the same way
as she had loved Michael. Never in the same way. She doubted she would ever love anyone else with that same overwhelming passion. But Frank had been a kind and gentle husband. She wished now that
they could have spent many more years together.
As she turned away from the yawning hole, she saw Theo Mayfield standing amongst the throng of people. As the villagers began to move away, Maddie noticed that he did not move. He stood very
still and, knowing he was watching her, she felt drawn to move towards him.
Nearing him, she held out her hand. ‘It was kind of you to come today. Frank would have been very touched.’
She felt his warm grasp. ‘Your hands are cold, Maddie. It’s been an ordeal for you. Please allow me to take you home in my car.’
Swiftly, she shook her head. ‘Oh no, no. It wouldn’t do.’
He was smiling gently at her. ‘You surprise me. I always thought you didn’t mind flouting convention.’
She knew his words were not offensive so she smiled in return. ‘No, I don’t. I’ve done a bit of it already, haven’t I?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, and I admire you for it. And I’m about to do a little “flouting” of my own, Maddie. I’m going to grant you the tenancy of Few Farm in your own
name. How does that sound?’
Maddie gave a long sigh of relief and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘Oh Mr Theo, I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’
She felt the slight pressure on her hand, which he was still holding. ‘It’s not your gratitude I want, Maddie.’ The words were so softly spoken that later she was not sure
whether she had heard him correctly, for now he released her hand and gave a little bow. ‘I must have a word with Mrs Trowbridge and her son. She seems very distressed.’
Maddie nodded and glanced back to where Harriet was having to be almost bodily supported by Nick. ‘She is. But then, she’s been his housekeeper for a long time and I think . . .
Well, best just to say I think she had a high regard for him.’
Theo murmured, ‘So they say,’ before he added, with genuine sympathy, ‘Poor Mrs Trowbridge.’
As he left her, Jenny, with Mrs Grange carrying Adam, came to her. Hovering just behind them was Steven. The girl, as always, flung her arms about her. ‘Oh Maddie, Maddie. It’s so
awful.’
‘I know, I know, love.’ She hugged Jenny quickly and then reached out for her son, who was fretful and holding out his arms towards her.
‘Poor little lamb,’ Mrs Grange crooned as she handed him over. ‘It’s as if he knows something’s wrong.’
‘I’m sure he does,’ Maddie said, holding him close to her and taking comfort from the warm little body next to her own. ‘Now he’s lost two daddies.’
The faces before her were solemn and their glances fell away as if they were embarrassed to meet her eyes.
‘We must get home. Poor Mrs Trowbridge seems about on the point of collapse. Thank you for coming . . .’ Her glance included Steven. With more murmured words of condolence from them,
Maddie moved away.
It was as she walked down the pathway, through the churchyard towards the gate that to her left in the farthest corner of the churchyard, she saw a tall, fair-haired figure standing with a bunch
of flowers in her hands. The woman was looking down at just a patch of ground. There was no headstone, no visible grave, for the ground was overgrown with long grass and nettles.
Maddie stopped and though Adam wriggled in her arms and now kept up a constant grizzle of discomfort, for a moment she ignored him.
‘Amelia Mayfield?’ she murmured and screwed up her eyes to try to make out the figure more clearly. ‘What on earth . . .?’
And then, without being told, Maddie knew. That must be where Amelia’s lover was buried. In that far corner of the churchyard, most probably in unconsecrated ground, which was the usual
resting place for suicides. Then she saw Theo walking towards his sister, saw him gently take the flowers from her hands and lay them on the ground at her feet. Then he put his arm about her
shoulders and led her away to his car.
Tears blurred Maddie’s vision and though she would not allow them to fall, her heart went out to the lonely, distressed figure of the woman who had mourned her lost love for so long.
As long as, deep in her heart, Maddie would mourn for hers.
‘Making up to him, smiling at him and before poor Mr Frank was cold in his grave. I saw you.’
It hadn’t taken Harriet long to resume her goading.
‘Mam, give it a rest,’ Nick frowned at his mother, standing up to her more boldly than Maddie could remember.
‘Trying to get round him to give her the tenancy to this place, I shouldn’t wonder. Oh, but you’ve another think coming, girl, if you think that’s ever going to happen.
My Nick has more right than you ever did—’
Bluntly, Maddie interrupted. ‘It already has.’
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘It’s already happened. Mr Theo told me at the funeral. He’s going to draw up a new document, all legal, with me as the sole tenant.’
With that Maddie turned and left the house, but not before she had seen the look of pure hatred in Harriet’s eyes.
But what disturbed her the most was to see that same look mirrored for a fleeting, unguarded moment, in Nick’s eyes, too.
‘I suppose,’ Harriet said, sitting down at the supper table, ‘it would be too much to ask that you and Nicholas should have joint tenancy of the
farm?’
‘Oh, Mam,’ he said at once. ‘Don’t spoil it for Maddie. It’s a wonderful opportunity for her, especially with her background.’
Maddie glanced at him, stung to retort, but the words died on her lips as he added hastily, ‘Well, you know what I mean. But you deserve it, Maddie. It was your idea and you’ve
worked as hard as any of us. You have to admit, Mam, that her idea has worked.’
Maddie saw Harriet’s glance and heard her sniff of disapproval, but now, she said nothing.
Nick was smiling broadly, his whole face alight, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. There was not a trace of the bitter resentment Maddie thought she had seen earlier.
‘No, you have the tenancy, Maddie,’ he said and added, jokingly touching his forelock, ‘but I would like to continue working for you, ma’am.’
Thankful for his change of heart, Maddie laughed. ‘I couldn’t manage without you, Nick.’ Then, summoning up all her reserves of forgiveness and understanding, Maddie turned to
Harriet and added, ‘Nor you, Mrs Trowbridge.’
Theo Mayfield was as good as his word and he brought all the official papers to Few Farm himself for Maddie to sign. When everything was settled, he smiled at her and said,
‘Now, you shall be the first to know my bit of news.’