Authors: Rebecca Shaw
Village Matters (20 page)
When she’d cleared away their tea things, Muriel went into the garden in the dark to put the remaining two scones on her bird table, because she hated ‘second day’ scones. She
stood by the cherry tree pretending to be looking at Pericles’ headstone. With her back to the house, so Ralph couldn’t possibly see, she wept painful scalding tears.
‘Hello, Lady Templeton.’
‘Hello, Flick dear. I see you’re managing very nicely without your sticks now. You must be pleased.’
‘Yes, I am. The specialist says I’ve done extremely well, but he says it’s only what he can expect from someone with as much guts as I’ve got.’
‘Well, naturally.’ Muriel smothered a smile. ‘Who’s this friend of yours?’
‘This is Sebastian Prior from Prior’s Farm. You must remember him? He’s in my class at school and we both play the recorder too, don’t we Sebastian? And we both share the same birthday. Isn’t that odd?’
‘It is indeed. Of course I remember you, Sebastian. My word, you have grown. When I played the piano in school you were quite the smallest boy in class. I can hardly recognise you.’
‘I know, he’s had a growing spell since he had his tonsils
out, haven’t you?’
Sebastian nodded. Muriel studied his face. So this was Arthur Prior’s grandson. The same very fair hair, the same dark brown eyes. The nose wasn’t quite right, but that might come with age. The germ of an idea which had come to Muriel just before Ralph’s heart attack emerged again in her mind. This might be the trigger she needed.
‘Are you spending the afternoon with Flick?’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘Ask Mummy if you and Sebastian could come to tea with me and Sir Ralph, would you, Flick? Would you like that, Sebastian?’
‘Yes, he would, wouldn’t you? I certainly would.’ Sebastian nodded.
‘Tell her I’ll bring you both safely back.’
While Muriel waited for Flick to run home to ask her mother, she finished her shopping. She remembered she needed stamps for Ralph. Muriel felt a tug at her skirt. It was Flick and Sebastian back.
‘Mummy says yes, it’s all right.’
The two children helped her to carry her shopping home. She hadn’t yet heard Sebastian speak; no doubt he would, given half a chance. The accident hadn’t put a stop to Flick’s chatter.
Muriel opened the front door and said, ‘Ralph! Ralph! Where are you, dear?’
‘Here.’ His reply came from the study. She opened the door and said, ‘I’ve brought two visitors for tea. One is Flick and the other is her friend from school, they share the same birthday, isn’t that a coincidence? He’s called Sebastian Prior. I thought you’d enjoy talking to them both. Flick is walking without her sticks now, isn’t that wonderful? Come in, children.’
‘You talk to my husband while I get the kettle on. Do you both drink tea?’
Sebastian nodded. Flick said ‘Yes, we both do.’
When Muriel took the tea tray into the sitting room Ralph had already seated the children in there. He and Sebastian were talking about horses.
‘You ride, then?’
‘Oh yes, Sir Ralph, every weekend and in the holidays. My daddy rides too, when he’s got time.’
‘And your grandfather?’
‘No, he’s never learned.’
‘I see. Do you ride sometimes, Flick?’
‘No, but it would be a good idea.’
‘Do you have your own pony, Sebastian?’
‘No, I share with my sisters.’
‘How many sisters have you got?’
‘He’s got four, haven’t you? All older than him.’
‘You’ve got cousins who ride though, haven’t you?’
‘No. My Auntie and Uncle haven’t got any boys and girls.’
‘I see.’
Muriel placed a small table beside each of the children, gave them napkins which they spread on their knees, and then served tea. Sebastian watched her pouring from the silver teapot with the coat of arms.
‘Your teapot has letters on it. What do they say?’
Ralph explained. Sebastian brooded over the reply and then said, ‘I see. Are you royal?’
‘No, not royal at all, but a very old family, we go back about five hundred years.’
‘I see. Silver teapots are very posh, aren’t they?’ Flick kicked his ankle and said, ‘Shush.’
Ralph, feeling a little embarrassed by this conversation, said, ‘Well, yes, I suppose they are.’
Muriel diverted Sebastian’s curiosity by handing him a plate of chocolate biscuits.
‘Thank you, Lady Templeton.’ For some reason, Sebastian saying that drove home to Muriel the task she had set herself. It really was sad that this little boy was, in his own way, as much a Templeton as anyone alive, and yet he had no rights to silver teapots, nor titles, nor anything else. She patted his head as he took two of the biscuits. Flick took one and nibbled delicately. She was obviously enjoying being a grown-up.
Ralph and Flick and Sebastian chattered away together until Muriel finally had to say it was time they went or Flick’s mummy would be wondering where they’d got to.
Ralph said, ‘I could take Sebastian home.’
Flick jumped at the chance. ‘In your Mercedes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Could I come too? It’s only polite to take my guest home isn’t it?’
‘Oh yes. Muriel ring Harriet, please, my dear, and ask her if it would be convenient.’
It was and he did. Muriel stayed at home to clear up and left Ralph to take them himself.
When he got back he went straight to his study and stayed there until his evening meal was ready. Their dessert was pears poached in honey and lemon juice. When Ralph finished eating his, he laid down his spoon and said, ‘Those pears were delicious, Muriel. The lamb chops were grilled
to an absolute turn, and now all I need is my coffee and I shall be ready for anything.’
She poured his coffee for him, laying her hand over the sugar bowl as he reached for it. ‘No! Ralph, remember!’
‘Are you guilty of trying to organise me?’
‘Well, you know you have to watch your weight, I’m only doing my wifely duty.’
‘You were quite right to stop me putting sugar in my coffee, but I wasn’t thinking of the sugar.’
Muriel looked down at her cup as she stirred in the sugar and said nothing.
‘Well?’ Ralph bent his head and tried to catch Muriel’s eye.
‘Only with the best of intentions. He’s a very nice little boy, I knew him at school, you see, but of course I didn’t know the rest of his story till you told me.’
‘He is a very charming boy, when he gets a chance to speak! Have you noticed Flick limps quite badly?’
‘Yes, but not nearly as badly as she did, she’s improving all the time. He’s got your colouring, well, till your hair went white.’
‘Brown eyes and fair hair, you mean.’
‘Yes. It’s very distinctive. It does come out strongly in each generation, doesn’t it? It must be an enduring link, musn’t it?’
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘I have nothing in mind, Ralph, nothing at all.’
‘Muriel!’
‘No, really, I haven’t anything specific in mind, truly I haven’t, but I do feel something should be done.’
‘I see. Give him or them money, you mean?’
‘Oh no, indeed no, they’d be much too proud to take money, that wouldn’t be right, something more significant needs to be done.’
‘If you had descendants things would be different, but you haven’t. So they are a branch of the family, aren’t they, in a way.’
‘Illegitimate.’
‘Oh yes, but they can’t be blamed for that. But it must be true or Sebastian wouldn’t have the Templeton colouring. They’d just have been dismissed, so your grandfather knew – oh yes, he knew.’
‘Yes. It’s true all right. I’ll think about it.’
‘Did you meet anyone when you took him back.?’
‘Arthur’s son. Sebastian’s father.’
‘So what’s Arthur’s son like?’
‘Tall, very tall, not like a Templeton, but the same colouring. Nice chap. Have you laid your plans for New York?’
‘Are we going still? I thought perhaps you wouldn’t, not after . . .’
‘But yes, we are. We both said we’d carry on as usual and we shall. You can do your Christmas shopping on Fifth Avenue, how about that?’
‘I should be terrified of getting lost in New York, you will look after me, won’t you?’
‘Of course. They’ll be starting work on Hipkin Gardens while we’re away. I know that’s a long way off, but how about before the weather gets too inclement we have a little ceremony? You put in the first spade. What do you think?’
Muriel clapped her hands and said, ‘Oh, what a lovely idea! We’ll have reception here for everyone afterwards. Drinks and things to nibble, shall we? Whom shall we invite?’
They made a list. ‘Add Arthur Prior and his wife to the list. See if they’ll come.’
‘They can say no, can’t they, if they don’t want to come?’
‘Oh dear, after the fuss they all made do you think
anyone
will accept?’
‘Of course they will, they all love a chance for a chat and food. We’ll have champagne, and you can cut the first sod with a silver spade.’
‘Oh Ralph! We’re not building the British Library or a museum or something. I think a brand new stainless steel one would be sufficient!’
‘In the kitchen, Ralph.’ She glanced up as he came in. ‘You’re going out, dear?’
‘Yes, I’m off up to town for the day.’
‘To town? Today?’
‘Yes, just something I need to talk over with the solicitor.’
She looked at his face, but could detect nothing that would give her a clue to his intentions. ‘You’re not driving up and back in one day?’
‘No, I thought I’d take the train. Leave the car at the station.’
‘How about if I pack you a bag and you stay overnight? It does seem a long way to go, there and back in a day. It’s already nine o’clock.’
Ralph stood undecided. Muriel watched him, puzzled by his secretiveness. He looked out of the window for a moment and then said, ‘Yes, I will then. If you’re quick I shall be able to catch the ten five.’
‘I’ll be quick.’
Instinctively, Muriel didn’t inquire his intentions, and
didn’t ask to go with him. He’d been struggling with some dilemma ever since she’d brought little Sebastian home. Presumably he had come to some conclusions on which he needed legal advice. She waved him off, and then set about tidying up before going to the rectory for morning coffee. While she tidied up she worried. What right had she to interfere? The Priors were Ralph’s problem not hers, but somehow the situation did need clarifying. She went to Caroline’s very preoccupied.
Ralph came back in time for lunch the following day.
‘You must have left very early, dear?’
‘Caught the nine ten. It’s a rattling good train, that one.’
‘I’m making sandwiches because I hadn’t expected you back so soon.’
‘That’s fine.’
Though the central heating was perfectly adequate, Muriel had lit the fire in their dining room because the weather had turned really cold. After lunch they pulled their chairs close to the fire while they drank their coffee.
‘I know it’s lunchtime, but I think I’ll have a brandy. Just one.’
He pulled a side table towards his chair and placed his coffee and his brandy on it. Muriel waited. Before long he would tell her what he’d been doing in London.
‘I’ve been up to see my solicitor.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Yes, well I listened to what you had to say and I’ve made a decision. You’re quite right, something needs doing, and I’ve come up with the answer.’
‘I see.’
‘It’s perfectly in order for me to go ahead, so I am.’
‘I see.’
‘In a way it’s going against an old steadfast arrangement,
but I’ve got to do it.’
‘I see.’
‘When we shared everything when we married there was one thing we couldn’t share, and that was Prior’s Farm. That was under a completely separate arrangement and had to be kept in direct line because of its peculiar nature. So although I can ask you what you think, ultimately the decision is mine.’
‘Ralph, I can’t keep saying “I see” for much longer, because I don’t see. What are you trying to tell me?’
‘I’ve decided to . . . No, no, I was going to tell you the whole story, but frankly, Muriel, I think it would be a good idea if I didn’t say anything until I get back home. You see, Arthur may not agree, and then I shall have to disappoint you by telling you it hasn’t come off. Can you be patient with me a little longer?’ Ralph smiled at her.
‘Of course I can. I did want you to do something about straightening it out, but I didn’t know what to suggest.’
‘Well, what I’ve done I’ve done, let’s hope he agrees. The solicitors were all for putting my ideas on to a pile of work needing attention. But I said no, I want it doing right now, not in ten years’ time. This is a now decision, get your finger out and get it typed up, so I can come away with it in the morning. So they delivered it by messenger to the hotel this morning, about eight o’clock.’
‘Are you going now?’
‘No, it’s market day, Arthur won’t be back just yet.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Sebastian told me, he goes every week. So I’m going to lie down for a while and then set off and be back for dinner.’
‘Very well, dear. Whatever it is you’ve done, I’m sure it will be right.’
‘Let’s hope so, this feud has got to be stopped. These old
wounds fester for generations, and there won’t be another generation after me so I’ve got to be the one to make the move.’
‘I do hope he doesn’t take umbrage and refuse to accept. He has got a wild temper, as we’ve seen.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
Ralph had changed from his city suit into his tweeds before he left. He felt more comfortable wearing them, and they seemed more appropriate to the moment. The lane was just as smart and the yard, now sporting tubs of winter flowering pansies, still as neat as before.
There was no one around, so Ralph rang the door bell. He heard heavy footsteps crossing the yard, and turned to see who was coming. It was Arthur.
Ralph changed his briefcase over to his left hand and held his right hand out to Arthur. ‘Good afternoon, Arthur. Had a good day at the market?’
Arthur shook his hand. ‘How did you know?’
‘Your Sebastian told me you usually went.’
‘Good opportunity for meeting other farmers and seeing if they’re doing as badly as yourself. What have you come to see me about?’
‘It might take some time. Shall we sit on the wall?’
‘If you like, or we can go inside.’
‘Somewhere where we won’t be overheard?’
‘No, the children are home from school, so the house is full. Come in the stable.’ He led the way across the yard to the end stable, opened the door, and invited Ralph inside. On top of some bales of hay he found two strong wooden crates, which he turned upside-down and placed on the stone floor. He invited Ralph to ‘take a pew.’
‘I’m very sorry about that time when I wouldn’t pass the collection plate to you. The rector told me off and not half.
He’s only a young man, but my word, he’s got some kind of power, he has, he kind of sees right through you, and you’ve got to do what’s right. I finished up apologising to him but I was too stubborn and angry at the time to apologise to you, but I am doing now.’
‘That’s all right, Arthur, your motives were honourable and that’s what counts.’
‘You’re looking well now, bit thinner, but well. I come in here when I need to get away from them all, so I keep a bottle for private consumption, do you fancy a drop? Bryn’s best, it is.’
‘When I’ve finished what I’ve come to tell you, then yes, I’ll be delighted.’
Ralph opened his briefcase and took out some papers. ‘A lot of water’s gone under the bridge since 1900. More than ninety years, and it’s time things were put to rights. I’ve come to suggest . . .’
Arthur’s face lit up. ‘You don’t mean you’re going to suggest I buy the farm? Is that what you’re going to say?’
‘Well, not buy it exactly . . .’
‘What then, what’s your alternative? I’ve got the money all put by, just waiting for the day.’
‘It is in my power to release you from this ridiculous peppercorn rent you pay, and I’m here to say there’s no need to pay it any more.’
‘Bloody hell, Ralph, I’m not poor. Twenty-five pounds a year isn’t going to mean the difference between surviving or going under. What the hell!’
‘Arthur!’
‘Arthur nothing! If that’s all you’ve come to tell me you can put yer papers away and skit. Whilst I pay that rent it’s all legal; if I stop paying, then I’m under an obligation to you and I won’t have it, absolutely not. I will
not
be under
an obligation to
anyone
with the name of Templeton. My father was bitter to the end of his days about the way your family treated his mother and him. It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t her fault, it was your grandfather’s fault, but he never spoke to my father from the day he was born. Never acknowledged him, not once. He could pass him in the road and wouldn’t even look at him. His own father! I’d have thought you’d have had more sense than to come here with a daft notion like you have. Go on, get off my land.’ He sprang up from his crate and opened the bottom half of the stable door so Ralph could go. The horse in the stall whinnied its approval.
‘You’re too impulsive, Arthur. Be quiet and listen, we’re getting too old for stupid misunderstandings, there’ve been enough of those in the past. You and I, between us, are putting a stop to the trouble. Sit down, and listen.’
‘All right, then, all right.’ He answered impatiently and still with half a mind to make Ralph leave, then on second thoughts he sat back down again and waited.
‘Here are the deeds of the farm. Wallop Down Farm is its real name, did you know?’
‘No! Wallop Down Farm? That’s a daft name.’
‘These deeds are yours and your children’s. The farm is no longer owned by me nor any of my descendants. From today the farm is entirely yours and your children’s, forever.’
The only sound in the stable was that of the horse gnawing the edge of the door. It stamped its feet and then whinnied joyously and then kicked the door. Ralph waited, observing the emotions flitting across Arthur’s face; first anger, then delight, then anger again, then a strange kind of yearning. Arthur held the deeds in his hands, turning them over and over, relishing the feel of the strong thick
parchment, and the sound of its crackling in his hands. His finger traced the lines of writing on the front as he looked across the yard to his house, and then back to the papers.
‘I love this place. Love it, like I love nothing else. I love my boys and the grandchildren, but this,’ – he thumped the door of the stall with his fist – ‘this is me, it’s in my bones. Each morning I open my eyes glad, no,
rejoicing
that I have fields in which I can walk, woods that are mine to tend, crops that are mine to harvest, animals that are mine to feed and care for. But there’s always been that knowledge deep down that I was living a lie, because it wasn’t really, truly, actually, mine. My pride tells me I should throw these’ – he held up the deeds – ‘back in your face and tell you I shan’t accept favours from a Templeton, living or dead. But it’s no good, I can’t do that. If I die tomorrow I shall die a happy man now, and we can’t ask more than that, can we?’
Ralph smiled and agreed. ‘And now where’s that drink we were going to have?’
Arthur stood up and, going behind the bales of hay, he brought out a bottle of Bryn’s home-brewed ale and two glasses. He blew bits of hay out of the glasses and then poured them each a brimming glass.
The two men stood facing each other. Ralph proposed a toast. ‘To Wallop Down Farm and the Priors!’
‘To the Priors, and long may they reign at Wallop Down Farm!’
As Ralph was leaving, Arthur said, ‘I’ve half a mind to change the name, do you know that? Daft name, but it has a ring to it and if that’s its real name, why not?’
‘Why not indeed?’