Memories of the Storm (26 page)

'Remember the vegetable garden? And the
chickens?' she asked. 'Yes? Well, it wasn't always a
vegetable patch. It's just that we needed to grow our
own food during the war. It used to be a little
meadow, you see, and afterwards, when I moved
back after I'd retired, I had an idea.'

She stood aside and Lucy went up to the field
gate, still frowning with puzzlement, and then
caught her breath in a tiny gasp of amazement. The
small square hayfield, some three-quarters of an
acre, was a patch of vivid colour. Bounded by
flowering hawthorn hedges, the sweet feathery
grasses were thickly sown with wild flowers. Blue
cornflowers, scarlet field poppies, butter-yellow
buttercups, rich pink clover and delicate lilaccoloured
lady's-smocks all bloomed in abundance.
The rosy haze of sorrel clouded the edges of the
hayfield and the scent of bluebells drifted in the
warm air.

'"It is a very old custom among villagers in
summer time to stick a piece of greensward full of
field flowers and place it in their cottages, which
ornaments are called Midsummer Cushions,"'
quoted Hester softly. 'I decided that, rather than try
to mend and patch the tapestry, or to grieve over its
loss, I would try to make something new. I wanted
to create a living reminder of the Midsummer
Cushion. What do you think, Lucy?'

Lucy bit her lips. 'I think you were right,' she said
at last. 'Can we . . . go in?'

Hester lifted the latch and swung the gate open.
Lucy passed through into the hayfield, advanced a
few steps, and then turned to look back at Hester
with an expression of wonder.

'It's quite beautiful,' she said. 'All the flowers, just
as I remember them.'

She extended her arms, as if she would embrace
them, and Hester smiled, remembering the small
Lucy stretching out her eager hands to the silken
flowers in the frame.

'Rather better like this,' suggested Hester, 'than
imprisoned under glass? And we can pick some for
you to take home as a keepsake. You could press
them into a book, if you would like it?'

She saw that Lucy was near to tears and she put
out a hand to her, just as she had reached out to
her all those years before, and they went together
into the hayfield, becoming a part of the small
tapestry of living colour that rippled and danced in
the warm west wind.

the end

Extract from 'Folk Tale' by R. S. Thomas, from
Experimenting with an Amen
, Macmillan, London,
1986: © Kunjana Thomas, 2001.

Extracts from the poems of John Clare are taken
from
John Clare – Selected Poems
, edited by Jonathan
Bate, Faber and Faber, London, 2004.

My thanks to Sarah Jordon of Time 2 (
www.time-2.com
)
for introducing me to Lifestyle Management.

My thanks also to Caroline Day of the Devon Lupus
Group (
www.lupusuk.com
).

Marcia Willett

It was in the middle of a snowstorm when Tiggy
arrived at the remote house on Bodmin Moor. She
was alone, her partner tragically dead in an accident,
and Julia, her dearest friend, welcomed her into
her warm and chaotic family. Tiggy started to
live again and await the birth of her child,
temporarily secure in the supportive
love which surrounded her.

But Tiggy's happiness is destined to be short-lived,
and nearly thirty years later, when her son is about
to become a father himself, the next generation
discovers that there are secrets from the past
which must be uncovered . . .

A wonderfully engrossing new novel from
this well-loved author.

9780593057735

AVAILABLE NOW FROM BANTAM PRESS