Restoring some kind of normality

‘Cheer up. Anyone would think we’d lost.’

Carole turned to Elin as the last group of customers left the shop.

‘Sorry. But it just seems to have brought it home to me that it’s not over yet.’

Having drawn the short straw, Carole had held the fort at Foxover Storehouse while the rest of the collective had joined the small crowd at the planning hearing in Shrewsbury. They’d spent most of the day sitting as calmly as they could at the back of the meeting room at the council offices. Bede had refused to carry a placard in the demonstration outside, though Elin had dug out her old Calsthorpe T-shirt in honour of the occasion. Bede had never had one, saying his body art was enough. He’d told her with a smile that he intended to keep his shirt firmly on this time, since there was no point alienating the local worthies. After the argument over Fran’s invitation, she was relieved that they could joke about it, and even grateful that he’d turned up at all. Though when he’d challenged Northcote in the corridor – ‘See? I’m still here. Didn’t work, did it?’ – Elin almost wished he’d stayed at home. She was relieved that Philip was too preoccupied to rise to it.

It had been a small victory, but Northcote had announced on the spot that the drilling consortium, Prospect G, would refer it to the Secretary of State.

‘I’ve got no illusions about the thinking at higher levels,’ Elin said, ‘and it’s going to mean even more research and endless bloody arguing.’

‘Nothing like looking on the bright side,’ Carole replied as she turned the sign on the door to Closed and locked it. ‘You’ve been cooped up with that cheerful husband of yours for too long.’

‘Sorry. Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad we’ve got this far. So’s Bede, actually. He’s even cooking us a celebratory dinner.’

‘You’d better get back to him. I can finish off here. Thanks for bringing the first-hand report. I appreciate it.’

When Elin arrived home, the delicious cooking smells snuggled round her like a fluffy bath towel. Hearing a rattle of washing up, she was momentarily surprised to see someone standing at the sink. As she registered the No Surrender T-shirt and spiky black hair, she realised how much she’d missed Bede’s tall figure, his loping gait, and wondered if this was a faint echo of what it must be like to lose someone yet keep on seeing them at unexpected moments. She snapped out of her reverie as Silvan turned with a smile.

‘Hi, Elin. Chef’s just gone out to set the table. You’re dining al fresco tonight.’

‘Sounds lovely. What’s cooking?’

‘Lasagne.’ He put a pan to drain and wiped his hands on a towel. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not stopping.’ He looked at her steadily. Once again, she thought of that awkward evening, it must be weeks ago. ‘I just called to get the news about today’s hearing, and got dragged into helping out with the dishes. He’s amazing – I love that veg vice thingy he’s rigged up for chopping one-handed – but washing up’s obviously a bit awkward and he wanted it all to be done by the time you got back.’

Elin wasn’t in the mood for small talk. ‘I suppose he’s told you how it went.’

‘Yeah, great news.’

‘Is it? It’ll probably turn out to be nothing but a delay, though it was heartwarming to see so many Foxover people there,’ she said, her tone letting him know exactly what she thought.

‘I wish I could’ve been with you. But there’d be no point in me losing Philip’s trust or my job yet, would there? I couldn’t risk being seen with the protesters, and God forbid he should think I was there to support him.’

She nodded, saved from further comment by the familiar electric whirr that announced Bede’s approach.

‘Don’t tell me Silvan’s claimed all the credit for my culinary efforts.’

‘Not at all.’ Elin smiled and stooped to kiss him. ‘You’ve been busy,’ she said, eager to talk about something other than the day’s events. ‘Smells delicious. Have I time for a quick shower?’

‘See you out in the garden when you’re ready,’ he said. ‘I thought we’d take the rare opportunity of a sunny evening to eat outside.’

When she returned, she felt a flash of irritation on hearing Silvan’s voice. Hadn’t he gone yet? In the kitchen, Bede was awkwardly ladling a portion of the lasagne into a pot, which he covered and handed over.

‘Cheers, mate.’ Silvan looked at Elin. ‘I was just waiting for you to get back so I could say my fond farewells. I’ll leave you to it.’

Elin shook her head after him as he left.

‘Are we turning into a soup kitchen?’ she asked sharply.

‘He was more or less inviting himself to stay and eat with us. It was the kindest way I could think of to ease him out of the door. I know you don’t like him much.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far.’

‘He’s been really good company recently, while you’ve been busy doing the work of two of us. He’s kept me sane sometimes, to be honest.’

She decided it was safest not to comment further. Not when he was making such an effort. The table in the sheltered garden looked inviting, with salad, bread and wine glasses. He’d even brought napkins, a rarity if not a first. The setting was idyllic. The murmuring of the stream harmonised with the deeper trickle of water through the cracks in the leat’s sluice gate – a perfect soundtrack to the view in the warmth of the setting sun.

As they ate, she thought beyond the hearing and all it represented, even daring to wonder if Bede turning out meant her worries about his growing insularity were unfounded. He’d hardly gone anywhere for a long time. They’d been for a couple of walks together, but his heart hadn’t been in it and he hadn’t ventured beyond Alderleat on his own since Silvan had found him in the rain. She’d given up even suggesting they went to the Horseshoes in the evenings. He had his next check-up appointment in a couple of days and they anticipated he’d be relieved of the cast on his arm. She hoped that would be the start of restoring some kind of normality, and maybe she’d even find the right moment to break the news of Suzanne Sherwell to him.

His eyes sparked as he talked about the planning victory, reflecting the fiery golden highlights the sun lent to his hair. She realised she’d been missing his vitality and determination as much as the sight of him on his feet.

She laid her fork to rest on her empty plate and, remembering Carole’s admonition, tried to summon up her own enthusiasm. She felt weary, as though coping with the last few weeks had sapped her ability to enjoy the moment.

Bede squeezed her hand and she looked at him, felt the flicker of a smile she didn’t have the energy to hold on to.

‘Come here,’ he said.

She drew up her chair to his side. Despite the physical awkwardness, she’d never felt so comforted by the steady calm of his embrace. She clung to him, buried her face in his chest and let go the flood of tears she’d been damming up for days, weeks, months. He rocked her gently; she felt his warm breath in her hair. She loved him for not speaking, for simply holding her and allowing her what she so rarely allowed herself: to let go.

She cried herself dry, then drew away and looked into his eyes. He wiped her cheeks, one at a time, with one of the unaccustomed napkins. She took it and finished the job, without taking her eyes off him. He ran his hand through her hair as he kissed her.

‘You needed that,’ he said softly.

‘I need you,’ she said, getting up and leading the way inside.

On the way home from the hospital, Bede flexed his left arm, opening and closing his fingers and revelling in the freedom of movement. It looked pale and sickly, felt weak, but that would pass. His ankle would take longer; he’d known that, but it was a smaller, lighter cast and he felt freedom within his grasp.

Elin glanced briefly at him before turning her eyes back to the road. ‘I’m hiding those crutches upstairs.’

She had a point. Despite the advice not to put weight on his wrist too soon, he probably would be tempted to use them and risk putting himself back to square one.

‘Do you want to stop off somewhere on the way back?’ she asked.

‘Not really. Let’s get home.’

‘You sure?’ She glanced at him again.

He shrugged. ‘Where did you have in mind?’

‘I was thinking of you,’ she said. ‘You’re the one’s been staring at the same four walls for weeks.’

There was a fragility to her voice. The endless rounds of phone calls, e-mails and social media posts after last week’s hearing must be getting to her.

‘Honestly, no need to worry about me,’ he said. ‘Now I’ve got my hand free, I’ll be able to work on the caravan again. Can’t wait to get stuck in.’

‘Apart from the fracking hearing, you haven’t been anywhere for ages.’

He turned and stared at her. ‘What’s the big deal? I haven’t been particularly mobile, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Don’t get sarcastic.’

‘I hope you don’t think…there’s anything more to it than that.’

‘What makes you say that?’ She still had that brittle edge to her voice.

‘Same thing as makes you turn staying at home for a while into an accusation.’

She sighed. He was relieved to get back to Alderleat, the sun shining in welcome. Having his arm free meant that it was easier to manoeuvre out of the car and into the wheelchair, and he felt life was beginning to look up.

He suggested they make the most of the nice weather and, as they’d taken to doing, they went to sit out on the terrace by the mill stream. While Elin went indoors to make tea, he braced himself gingerly on the arms of the wheelchair, feeling a slight, possibly imagined tug at the point of the healed fracture. He levered himself up and hopped a couple of steps to sit on the garden bench. Elin came out and sank down beside him. As he placed his left arm around her and hugged her to him, the sense of reborn equality was intoxicating.

She raised a hand to his, encircling his fingers loosely in a kind of reunion. They sat for a few moments watching the water in the leat flicker past.

‘I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ Bede said. ‘You know when Silvan was here yesterday?’

‘Reality calling.’ She sighed. ‘What – did he finally give you some nugget of inside info on Northcote’s appeal?’

Bede laughed briefly. ‘He’s hardly lived up to that promise, has he? No, the opposite. He’s been given his notice.’

Officially, Northcote said he was over-staffed, but Silvan was convinced his employer had become suspicious of his growing friendship with Bede and Elin.

‘I suppose I sympathise.’ She stroked the soft V between his thumb and forefinger as if sending healing waves through the skin.

‘It’s not just his job,’ Bede said. ‘He lives in the keepers’ accommodation in the village, doesn’t he? He’ll have to move out and he…he was wondering if we could help out. You know, let him crash at ours for a while, maybe put in a word for him at the Storehouse. Or even find some work for him with us – not paid, but, you know, pitching in for food and lodging.’

‘No way!’ He’d been sensing a growing atmosphere between them, but her vehemence surprised him. ‘I’m sorry, but he’s far too unreliable – for us, let alone to recommend to the shop collective. He’s done enough skiving that we know of. I wouldn’t wish it on him, but I’m not surprised he’s got the sack. I bet Northcote’s been waiting for an excuse.’

He had to admit she had a point. ‘What about putting him up for a bit, though?’

‘You’re joking. He’d suffocate us.’

‘We were all right with communal living at Calsthorpe.’

‘That was never our permanent home. We stayed there for periods at a time.’

‘Until we got married and moved in with Joe.’ He’d sometimes sensed her desire for their own space – one of the reasons he’d found it hard to open up to her about grieving, but now a possible way of talking her round.

‘There’s no comparison. Joe was family. And he had a decent sense of personal space.’ That surprised him. ‘Whereas Silvan…’

Her reaction was stronger than he’d feared. ‘He needn’t be in the house. He suggested he’d help us finish the caravan, then maybe… You know… It’s stood there sad and unfinished for weeks now, and it’d be a way—’

‘That’s supposed to be for visitors – income, Bede – and for us. You said he could live there?’

‘No, I said I’d have to ask you first.’

‘First? Jesus, that implies there’s a “second”. That it might happen.’

‘What was I supposed to say? I thought it’d give me – us – time to think.’

‘The chance to make it all my fault when we refuse.’

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘I mean it. He seems to have this image of me as a nagging “’er indoors”. Don’t try and deny it. I’m sure he even thinks I’m siding with Kate to turn Tamsin against him.’

He was almost glad they were having this conversation; she obviously needed the release valve. ‘You’re overreacting, love.’

‘Maybe it’s something to do with the lack of support I get from you.’

His first reaction was to defend himself, but her expression made him pause.

‘I thought things were getting better,’ she continued. ‘I understand what you’ve been through and it’s been heartwarming to see you wanting to do things again. But whenever he’s here you simply don’t get off your arse. Like yesterday, I’m out at the shop and the Fields till late and I get home to find you couldn’t even heat a pan of chili. I’d left it all ready; you knew what time I’d be back. Not much to ask, was it? You should’ve seen the contempt on both your faces when I mentioned it.’

‘I never—’

‘“Hey, hey, chill, woman. Give the guy a break. He’s still convalescing.” And you, sitting there trying not to laugh.’

‘I didn’t mean…’

She sighed. ‘I’m sure you didn’t. You’re just not yourself when you’re with him.’

He folded his arms, trying his damnedest not to feel guilty, but failing miserably. ‘Is that what you think?’

‘I don’t think, I see.’

She turned away from him, staring into the ripples of the leat, her eyes bright. The welling tears pierced him. I thought things were getting better. So had he. And they were. He refused to admit he was that easily led – he’d never mock or criticise her like that – but if it was the impression she was getting, he was prepared to concede. For her sake. For both their sakes.

Once again he enclosed her fingers with his newly liberated hand.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll tell him,’ he said.

Her smile was like the sun after a storm. He had no idea what he was going to say, but if he and Elin needed time together, he’d do anything to make sure they got it.