Daughter of Dark River Farm (9 page)

BOOK: Daughter of Dark River Farm
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Standing in the creamery at Dark River Farm I thought of my parents in their large, comfortable house in Ecclesley, and I felt an odd lightening sensation, an almost dizzying change of view. From nothing more than habit, and a fear of change, I’d been longing for a forgiveness that would never come, hoping, with a child’s yearning heart, for acceptance. It dawned on me now that I’d found that acceptance, just not in the arms of the parents who had raised me. I was wanted here, as soiled and broken as I was. I looked around, taking in the familiar warmth, the sweet smells, and the overall sense of peace that pervaded every corner of this draughty old farmhouse, and then I looked at Mrs Adams.

‘I’ll show him into in the sitting room. Frances.’

She nodded, and turned wordlessly back to her work, but her smile stayed with me all the way across the yard.

‘You won’t have cause to regret it, Mrs Adams,’ Mr Beresford said, his own smile wide with relief and gratitude. Now I could see him properly I couldn’t help being taken by the warmth of his hazel eyes, and the way he looked so earnestly at whoever he was talking to, whether it was the pretty and vivacious Belinda, the stern, inquisitive Frances, or even me.

‘I’m sure I won’t,’ Frances said. ‘Now, I’m told you don’t have anything to unpack, but maybe we can find something for you to change into amongst my Harry’s old things. He was a lot taller than you, but we have scissors, and Sally’s a decent enough hand with a needle.’

‘You’re too kind,’ Mr Beresford said, and as Frances took him off upstairs to search for something that might fit well enough, he glanced back and winked. Not at Belinda, at me. I pretended not to notice, and Bel didn’t say anything, but I thought I saw her eyes narrow anyway, and tried to think of a way to revive the companionship of our dance in the barn. But before I could, the sitting room door opened and Evie came in.

Driving the city’s ambulances between docks and hospital had given her some purpose, but it was not the same as it had been in Belgium, and I could still see the yearning in her eyes every time someone mentioned life at the Front. She would go back as soon as Will was recovered, I was sure of it. As would he. For now though, while he fought to regain his strength, and Frances kept her beady eye on him all the while, Evie worked hard doing the thing she was best at: driving.

Evie looked around her now, as she came in, her blonde hair grown back to its pre-war curls, her face tired but smiling. ‘Good evening, girls. Where is he, then?’

‘Upstairs with Mrs Adams,’ Bel said.

Evie blinked. ‘What’s he doing up there?’

‘She means Will, you idiot,’ I said to Bel. ‘He’s finishing some odd jobs in the bathroom, Evie. He won’t be long.’

‘I wish he wouldn’t try to do so much,’ Evie said, trying to sound merely exasperated, but I could hear the worry in her voice. She sat down in the chair by the window. ‘Who did you think I was talking about?’ she asked Belinda.

‘We have a house guest, just for one or two nights. A rather dashing young man called Mr Beresford.’

Evie grinned. ‘Typical. I expect you managed to charm him into thinking he needed a room.’

Bel, who worshipped both Evie and Lizzy, looked pleased but adopted a tone of indignation. ‘I did not! He was the one who smiled first, when I was in the bank. The poor man had just had his belongings stolen. Can you imagine? Anyway, we got talking, but I didn’t know about the robbery until just now. He was embarrassed to admit it to me, and just said he was looking for a place to stay.’

‘And you batted those long eyelashes at him, and offered him a room for the night?’

‘Certainly not!’ Bel said, still wearing a look of reproach. ‘I told him of a hotel in town. As it turned out he was unable to get funds right away so he couldn’t go there, but he remembered the name of the farm, and came here instead.’

‘Well, it’ll be good for Frances to have someone to help her out,’ Evie said, and smothered a yawn. ‘It’s a little bit late for an early night, but I shan’t be up long so I hope Will comes down soon, or I’ll be off to bed without seeing him at all today.’

The two of them chatted for a while, and I wanted to join in but I was starting to feel the effects of the wine again. Out in the barn it had given me a little burst of energy and amusement, but in this warm, cosily lit sitting room, with full dark fallen outside, it made me feel oddly distanced from everything. Evie and Bel’s quiet talk washed over me, and I thought fuzzily ahead to tomorrow, and the jobs I needed to do. I should really get up and go to bed, but I was too comfortable, and it was nice listening to my friends’ voices and occasional laughter.

I dozed a little in the chair, but jerked awake again as Frances and Mr Beresford came in. He smiled around at everyone, but as his eyes lit on Evie his expression changed, and the smile, when it reappeared, became faintly mocking. ‘Well. How very nice to see you again, My Lady.’

Chapter Six

Evie stared at him, her face blank with astonishment. Finally she found her voice, and it was low and hard. ‘What are
you
doing here?’

‘Do you know this gentlemen then?’ Frances looked from one to the other. ‘Evie? Are you all right? Should I ask him to leave?’

‘She’ll be fine, Mrs Adams,’ Mr Beresford said smoothly. He cleared his throat and frowned, tapping lightly at his chest. ‘It’s just been a while since we saw each other—’15, I believe. We didn’t part on the best of terms, I’m sorry to say. Not for want of trying, I might add, though, was it?’ He said this last to Evie, whose hands were clenched tight on her knees.

‘Why are you here?’ she repeated.

‘I was lucky enough this time to bump into
this
lovely young lady.’ He gestured at Belinda, who was looking as if she wanted the chair in which she sat to swallow her up. ‘She has far better manners than you. She mentioned the name of the farm, and here I am.’

‘Coincidence, I suppose?’

‘I know it’s not flattering to accept, but I have not spent the past two years yearning after your rather sour-faced company.’

‘No,’ she said, letting out a breath. ‘Of course not.’ She looked at Frances. ‘Forgive me, this is your home. I had no right to demand an explanation.’ She struggled to adopt a more friendly tone. ‘I met Mr…Beresford, was it? in Breckenhall when I was on leave at one time, and I’m afraid I
was
rather dismissive and rude.’

‘That’s not like you,’ Frances said.

Evie gave her a grateful smile and turned back to the visitor. ‘Mr Beresford, you must understand you were asking an awful lot of questions about my husband’s location, and there’s a war on.’

‘Ah. I see. You thought I might be a spy?’

Her lips tightened at his amused smile. ‘It’s a possibility; you must admit.’

‘Of course,’ he said smoothly. ‘However, I can assure you it’s not the case. Your apology is accepted.’ I could see Evie open her mouth to point out that it was Frances she had apologised to, not him, but she closed it again with an effort, and instead inclined her head graciously.

The atmosphere in the room relaxed a little, and Mr Beresford sat in the empty chair opposite me while Frances went out to the kitchen to make some Bovril. He turned once again to Evie.

‘So, these two lovely girls are working hard for this new Land Army thing. What’s your contribution to the war effort?’ She narrowed her eyes, but his smile was pleasant and interested, and she evidently decided she’d imagined the slightly antagonistic tone of the question.

‘I do a bit of driving. For the hospitals.’

Belinda piped up at once. ‘Oh, come off it! Evie’s an absolute heroine,’ she said to Mr Beresford. ‘Been driving ambulances all over the Front, dodging bullets and shells and all sorts.’

‘Jolly brave,’ he murmured. ‘And why are you here now?’

‘My husband is convalescing,’ she said. ‘Frances offered to let us stay here in the country, until Will’s recovered enough to rejoin his unit, but that won’t be for some time yet.’

Mr Beresford frowned, and his faintly patronising manner altered to one of genuine concern. ‘I’m sorry. Was he badly wounded?’

‘Badly enough.’

‘What happened?’

But Evie clearly didn’t seem to want to say any more, so I stepped in with some questions about Mr Beresford’s own wartime background. He told us he held the rank of lieutenant, and was stationed near Amiens, but all the time he spoke he kept shooting glances at Evie. She avoided eye contact, and I could see she was listening out for Will’s step on the stairs. When it came I saw her relax, and a smile painted the edges of her lips. The door opened and Mr Beresford jumped to his feet, cutting me off mid-question, and he looked tense, suddenly, and a little uncertain as he faced the doorway.

Will saw him, and the warm greeting he’d had ready for us died. Pale, he stared at the visitor as if he thought he might be dreaming. His lips parted but no words came out, and Belinda and I exchanged a glance and waited with breathless astonishment.

Mr Beresford spoke softly, and there was no mocking in his tone this time. ‘Good to see you again, Will.’

‘Dear God…
Nathan
?’

‘That same bad penny,’ Mr Beresford said, and to my astonishment I saw he had tears in his eyes.

Evie was on her feet now, too, and had moved to Will’s side. She slipped her hand through his arm, and turned to face Mr Beresford, plainly furious. ‘Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’

‘I didn’t know what he’d told you about me,’ he said, and his voice shook. All his previous confidence, and slightly sardonic coolness, had vanished. ‘I thought you might send me away, and I couldn’t blame you if you did. But…Will, I had to see you.’

Will gently extricated himself from Evie’s grasp, and squeezed her hand before crossing to stand before Mr Beresford. His voice was quiet, but tight-sounding, as if it was an effort for him to say anything at all. ‘You ruined me.’

‘I know.’ Mr Beresford lowered his gaze, unable to look up into Will’s face. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do… I had to leave.’

‘No letters?’ Will’s voice hardened now, and I saw a flicker of relief on Evie’s face that he wasn’t just going to brush whatever this man had done aside and welcome him back into his life.

‘I wrote, Will! That’s the truth. You must have already moved on.’

‘I had no choice, thanks to you!’

‘I know, and I’m sorry,’ Mr Beresford said again. ‘I hadn’t planned to stay away so long, but by the time I realised I couldn’t come back it was too late.’

Frances chose that moment to bring in a tray of warm drinks, and looked from Evie, to Will and Mr Beresford, and back again. ‘Not again! What’s
happening
tonight? Will, are you all right, lad?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Thank you, Frances, I’m fine.’ But he didn’t sound it.

Mr Beresford ignored everyone else and gripped Will’s arm. ‘I wrote to you, I swear. And to your family. They must have ignored my letters, or not been able to find you to pass them on. Look, let’s talk, just you and me. Like we used to. What do you say?’

Will studied him for a moment, then nodded. ‘Tomorrow.’ He was standing awkwardly, slightly hunched, and I guessed he’d been overdoing things again.

Evie noticed it too, and laid a gentle hand on his back. ‘Now Nathan’s here, he can do some of those jobs you keep pretending you’re not doing,’ she said, trying to make him smile.

Will didn’t take his eyes off Mr Beresford. ‘Oh, I think he owes me at least that much,’ he said softly. ‘Tomorrow,’ he repeated, and Mr Beresford nodded.

‘I’ll explain everything.’

‘Yes.’ Then, to everyone’s surprise, not least of all Mr Beresford’s, Will pulled the man into a rough hug. Slowly, Mr Beresford’s arms came up to return it, taking great care not to grasp Will too tightly.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said again, and he sounded as if he were fighting tears. I glanced at Evie, who was observing her husband with a mixture of exasperation and deep, almost painful affection, and she gave me a watery smile and shrugged. When Will and Mr Beresford broke apart, I looked again at the visitor’s face. Nothing about his sudden emotional response seemed forced. His eyes were reddened, but they followed Will and Evie as they left the room, and his breath was shaky as he raised a hand to bid them goodnight. He coughed again, and I wondered how long he had been on the road to have caught a chill like that in the summer.

‘How do you know Will, Mr Beresford?’ I asked, to break the silence that followed their departure.

‘We’re old friends,’ he said, still looking at the closed door. Then he turned away and looked at both of us in turn. ‘I should think you ought to call me Nathan now, don’t you?’ He bestowed his warm smile on Belinda, who straightened in her seat, and his voice returned to its previous lightness, his manner once more the charming, well-bred young man—it was as if someone somewhere had thrown a switch. ‘Such extraordinary luck to have bumped into you. You must allow me to buy you something pretty when I get my money.’

‘Oh, there’s no need,’ she said, although her smile made it clear a gift would not be rebuffed. ‘How long is it since you’ve seen Will?’

But Nathan shook his head. ‘I want to talk to him first; it’s not fair that I should discuss it with anyone else until I have.’

‘You really didn’t know he was here?’ I asked.

Nathan looked at me shrewdly, his lips pursed. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said, echoing Will. And he would say no more on the subject.

The following morning, neither Belinda nor I wanted to leave the house; we were both desperate to hear the story behind this stranger and his connection with our Will. It was clearly a complicated friendship they shared, but one deep enough to allow the unlikely gesture of a warm embrace and tears, amidst the shock and suspicion of their reacquaintance. Especially in a room full of women. But Frances quickly tired of us finding excuses to remain in the kitchen and, knowing full well the reason behind it, gave us a job to do safely away from the farmhouse.

‘Jane’s replacement arrives today, and will need collecting from the station.’

Belinda saw a chance to stall further. ‘What’s she called? And is she nice?’

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