This is no fun

Tamsin tried Silvan’s phone again. Straight to voicemail. She left a brief message. Here she was, her exams over, supposed to be making the most of these last few days before she went on holiday with her dad and kid brother, and he’d done a vanishing act on her. Perhaps he was next door, though he usually texted her when he was going to Alderleat so they could ‘accidentally’ meet there, save her the inevitable argument with her mum. If he wasn’t there, maybe Elin or Bede would know where he was. A visit was overdue in any case; she liked helping Bede out in the workshop, the way he didn’t patronise her, and she always felt better after talking to Elin.

As she crossed the yard, Kip came bounding up to her. She fussed him, looked around, popped her head into the greenhouse, tried the workshop door and found it locked. It was unusual for the dog to be running around unsupervised. Before she could grab his collar, he ran off into the bushes between the yard and the field beyond.

At the house, no one answered her knock. She tried the door; it opened. Her hopeful ‘Hello?’ faltered. It looked different. Smelled different – stale food and drink hanging in the air. Among a scattering of the papers that usually sat in a neat pile on the edge of the kitchen table, a dirty plate had been left with a smeared glass placed precisely in the centre. A few more and a stack of encrusted pans lay more haphazardly next to the sink. The vase of flowers Elin always had on the table were wilted and discoloured. Weird. Whatever was going on in their lives, the place always seemed tidy – something Tamsin liked to mention whenever her mum started one of her tirades about the dirty hippies next door.

‘It’s me-ee. Anyone home?’

She went through to check whether Bede was resting in the living room. Her eyes widened. One of the sofa cushions was on the floor, the other pulled aside. A pile of papers cascaded from an armchair to the floor. Two halves of a mug lay on the floor by a coffee table like a cracked egg, a stain spreading from it across the rug and trickling out onto the quarry tiles. After peering round the room, she called their names and picked her way across to the dining room where Bede’s makeshift bed was. It was neatly made.

Back in the kitchen, she felt the eyes of the picture on the wall following her. Nice eyes – she’d liked Joe the couple of times she’d met him – but the sense of being watched was disconcerting. She realised it was because she hadn’t seen the picture before. Hadn’t their wedding photo been there? It had stuck in her mind because it was unlike any wedding photo she’d ever seen – not a suit or lacy veil in sight – but Elin had told her that was when it had been taken.

As she passed the utility room on her way out, her heart skipped a beat. His adapted wheelchair stood empty at the far end. Hadn’t Elin mentioned an appointment at the hospital sometime around now? It looked like they’d simply rushed out without having time to clear up after whatever had caused the mess in the living room, or bother with the pots. Which didn’t explain the flowers, but she knew Elin was stressed at the moment.

The car wasn’t on the yard and she was about to leave when she became aware of hammering from the place where they’d been working on the holiday caravan before Bede’s accident.

Silvan must have spoken to them after all. Tamsin was pleased to think of him up there now, sorting it for them, and it was awesome to imagine he’d soon be living next door.

She hurried across the footbridge over the leat and made her way up the path in the direction of the sounds, pausing briefly to fuss Kip as he bustled to meet her. A metallic clacking and a curse drifted towards her. As she crested the rise in the land, Bede seemed as surprised to see her as she was him. She stopped, frowning.

‘Hello, Tamsin.’ He turned awkwardly on the crutches. ‘Something wrong?’

‘I just didn’t expect… You surprised me, you know, being on your feet.’

‘One of them.’

‘It’s an improvement. Check out your wrist! Great stuff, well done.’

‘I’ve achieved greater things in my time.’ He smiled as if to compensate. ‘Actually, you’ve come at the right moment. This is no fun. Cop hold of that for me, will you?’

She picked up a plank, positioned it and fixed it where he instructed as he leaned on it to hold it in place. She hammered a stubborn nail at the wrong angle and it bent in two. Bede guided her patiently and she started to get the feel of it. As their work brought them close, she noticed he smelled of stale sweat, and his hair, though tied back for working, was obviously lank and unwashed. It was as out of character as the state of the house.

They worked on a couple more boards and despite the lack of conversation she began to feel the return of the camaraderie that had grown between them over the last few weeks.

‘I thought Silvan was coming to help you,’ she said as she picked up another board.

‘Did you?’

‘Didn’t he have a word? You know…’

Silence.

‘About helping you. With this.’

‘Ah. Yes, he mentioned it.’

She waited.

‘And?’ Shit, he was in a mood today.

‘As you can see, I’m managing.’

‘So he’s not, like…?’

‘No. And he won’t be moving in. I suppose that means you don’t want to carry on. Feel free to go.’

Tamsin felt a stab of hurt on two counts – that this wasn’t going to be Silvan’s place and, contrarily, that Bede could think it was the only reason she was here. ‘Don’t talk stupid.’

He flashed her a look then shuffled back to examine what they’d done so far.

‘Is Elin at the shop today?’ Maybe she’d get more sense out of her when she got home.

‘No.’

Tamsin suppressed a sigh. ‘Where is she?’

‘Did you meet Fran? Her old friend. I should say our friend, but I’ve never felt she likes me much.’ Tamsin thought the name sounded familiar. ‘She’s gone to stay with her for a few days. Would you fetch us a cup of tea?’

Back at the house, while the kettle boiled and the tea brewed, Tamsin took the withered flowers to the compost, washed up, straightened the cushions and wiped up the spillage in the living room. She could hear her mother complaining that she never did anything like that at home without being asked, usually several times. Alderleat simply didn’t look right in a mess. The fact that Elin was away seemed to explain that – he could hardly be expected to keep on top of things with his leg in plaster. Tamsin was slightly hurt that neither of them had asked her to lend a hand in Elin’s absence, or at least pop round to see if he needed anything.

She poured the tea and took it out, quite proud that the mugs were still at least three-quarters full by the time she got up the path. They sat side by side on the pile of timbers to drink it.

Bede glanced down at his plastered leg, propped at an awkward angle in front of him. ‘It’s good to be out and about again. Good to know there’s stuff I can do. Um, with your help.’

Tamsin felt a glow of satisfaction. He studied the tea in his mug, then looked up at her. ‘Did we ever thank you for those skylights from your dad?’

‘You should’ve seen Mum’s face when I came home with them. I’m sure Dad only let me have them because helping you would be a way of pissing her off. Anyway, they’re looking good. Glad to have helped with a bit of upcycling.’

‘That’s the spirit. Most of what we’ve done has been on a shoestring, you know, but even if I was rolling in it I wouldn’t do things any differently. Saves waste.’ He drained his tea, then put his mug down carefully. ‘Drink up now, girl. No slacking.’

He shuffled laboriously to his feet, refusing her offer of help firmly but with a hint of gratitude. By the end of the afternoon they looked from each other to a finished wall with satisfaction.

‘Nice work, thanks. Do you fancy coming back tomorrow?’

It felt like the friendliest thing he’d said to her all day. ‘Sure.’

He was already on his way back to the house.

‘Oh.’ Back in the kitchen, he turned to look at her, eyes narrowed in reproach. ‘You shouldn’t have. Tidied up. I only said come and make tea.’

‘What’s your bloody problem today?’ Tamsin finally snapped. ‘I wasn’t snooping around.’

‘No. I never said you were. I…I’d never have sent you if I’d remembered the state the place was in, that’s all.’

It seemed as close to an apology as she was likely to get. She was surprised to find she was more ready to sympathise than take offence.

‘Before you go,’ he said suddenly, ‘could you have a quick shufty round for my glasses, please? I’m stuck without them. You know the ones. Probably in the case. Or maybe not.’ He waved at the scattered papers, then began to straighten them into a pile. ‘They’re usually here. On the windowsill. Always here – I never lose them. It’s all been weird since that bang on the head.’

She hunted around the kitchen and the living room, straightening a few more scattered objects as she went. He called to her to look upstairs, too. She hesitated; it felt uncomfortable, especially given the weirdness of his mood.

‘Yes, I managed to get upstairs and sleep there last night. Progress, hey?’

Her curiosity was tinged with unease as she crossed the landing and quickly glanced around the bedroom. It was in a similar state of disarray. She picked two pillows up off the floor, edgy, half expecting to hear the clacking of his crutches behind her. The black-rimmed glasses were nowhere to be found.

By the time she came back into the kitchen he’d lined up several bottles of beer, with a glass poured and half drunk. Sounds of him rummaging in the freezer reached her from the utility room. He called through: ‘Could you feed Kip for me?’

As she set the dog’s food down, she noticed the crate of empties was brimming. Bede limped through, awkwardly gripping a frost-rimed box under his arm.

‘Veg stew defrosting,’ he announced as he emptied it into a bowl, put it in the microwave and set the timer. Back at the kitchen table, he untied his hair and took a hearty swig from the glass. ‘Sorry to send you on a wild goose chase. About the specs. Feel like I’m losing it.’

‘’Course you’re not.’ She hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt. ‘Anything else I can do?’

‘No, thanks.’ His eyes were intense, weighing her up. ‘Actually, yes. If you don’t mind. Sit down.’

She drew up a chair as he leafed through the pile of papers he’d just tidied.

‘Here.’ He picked up an envelope – she glimpsed Return to Sender scrawled across it – and drew out an old eighteenth birthday card. ‘I found this. In one of his books. Ex-girlfriend gave it to him; the only poetry he ever read as far as I know. I had this sudden impulse to look up a quote he liked – once I’d found my glasses, that is. This fell out.’ He opened it. Holding it up at arm’s length, he peered at it, narrow-eyed. ‘No good. Can you read it out to me?’

She studied the blocky handwriting for a moment. ‘To Niall,’she read. ‘Then the bog-standard printed birthday card stuff. From your loving Dadand two kisses.’

He was sitting with his face in his hands.

‘What does the rest say?’

There was a note on the inside flap.‘I hope this finds you well. It’s been a long time, but I remembered your 18th, at least. I know I’ve not kept in touch but I had my reasons. What…’She broke off. ‘It’s hard to make out, sorry. Like he was upset or angry when he wrote it. Whatever she’s…told you…’ She narrowed her eyes then continued, faltering, ‘Whatever she’s told you I’d like to…explain for myself then it’s up to you whether to forgive me. Please give me a chance. Love, Dad. Then a note of your address and phone number.’

‘Thanks,’ Bede muttered. ‘I couldn’t make out most of it.’

‘Who is it?’

He looked up. ‘Could you do me one more favour?’ He opened a drawer in the side of the table and from among the usual kitchen-drawer clutter took out a tattered scrap of paper, which he held out to her, glancing at the photo on the wall.

Bede, Elin,

I’ve just popped out for a walk. Won’t be gone long. Exciting times!!

Hope things weren’t too bad in the village,

Joe x

‘This was the last thing he ever said – wrote – to us,’ he said. ‘So. Is it the same handwriting as the card?’

She nodded and he tucked the note away again in the back of the drawer.

‘Just checking. It’s obvious – I should know, shouldn’t I? But…bloody glasses. Two pairs of eyes. Thanks.’ He glanced at her. ‘If you could have a quick scout around the yard on your way out? In case I dropped them.’

She wondered if the glasses were an excuse. If he just wanted to talk about it.

‘So “Dad” is your uncle Joe? This Niall’s your cousin? I didn’t know—’

‘Neither did I, Tamsin, neither did I.’

‘How come?’

‘Never told me.’

‘But he was your family. I thought you were close.’

‘Listen, I was fifteen when he first got in touch with me. He and my mum hadn’t spoken to each other for years and he lived on his own in a flat above his hardware shop. I never thought twice about it and if I had, I’d never have asked. Shy as a sparrow I was, back then.’

‘So you don’t know what Joe meant about being forgiven, either?’

He gave her a withering look, which she ignored and started reading through the card again. Bede took it from her and shoved it to the bottom of the pile of papers.

‘No idea. Doesn’t matter.’

He picked up his beer and drained it, then reached for another bottle. Tamsin looked at the collection on the table.

‘You’re not going to sink all those tonight?’

‘And if I do? There’s whisky around somewhere, too.’ He laughed mirthlessly. ‘I won’t embarrass you by asking you to fetch it for me. See you tomorrow. About eleven?’

‘Sure.’ She made one final attempt. ‘Bede…?’

He was concentrating on pouring the beer into a glass. Eventually he looked up.

‘Have you told Elin about this? Are you going to phone her?’

‘Could do.’

‘You sure you’re OK?’

His smile went some way to dispersing the cloud that had settled over the room.

‘Perfectly sure. Don’t worry about me. Thanks, Tamsin.’ The microwave pinged as though to announce her departure. ‘I’ll even be eating well, so you don’t have to worry on that score, either.’

After closing the door, she hesitated on the threshold before walking away down the yard towards the lane. Part of her felt sorry for him; he was clearly in a bit of a state. The larger part felt relief to be away. She enjoyed his company, but even when in a better mood than this one, he was easier to deal with when Elin was around. Tamsin hoped she hadn’t left because of a row.

‘Hello, gorgeous.’

She jumped as she saw Silvan by the gate to the Alderleat yard.

‘Hi! What are you doing here?’

‘Stalking you.’ He widened his eyes, grabbed her and kissed her. She relaxed into his arms, all her annoyance at his recent distance immediately melted away. ‘Fancy going out tonight? We could walk along the river to Halbury. The food’s great at the Queen’s Arms. My treat.’

‘I’d love to. Give me a moment; I’ll nip and change, and think of an excuse to keep Mum happy. I’ve been out all afternoon without telling her.’

He brushed her cheek. ‘I’ll wait for as long as it takes.’

Her mother was preoccupied with paying guests and let her go with little more than a tap of her watch: half past eleven at the latest. Tamsin flung on a sundress and jacket, spent a few minutes in front of the mirror and dashed back out.

They walked arm-in-arm down the lane.

‘Been out, you say?’ Silvan asked. ‘Anywhere exciting?’

‘Helping out at Alderleat.’

‘Uh-huh. How are they?’

‘Elin’s away. Bede was…OK. You know. Except—’

Silvan stopped and turned to her, his hands on her arms. ‘He’s too old for you, sweetness,’ he said, eyes wide. ‘Not your type. Too highly strung.’

He broke into a grin and she could feel herself blushing, even as she laughed and swiped his hands away. ‘You know you’re the only one for me.’ Her heart flipped as he kissed her. ‘So what have you been doing to piss them off? He says you’re not having the caravan.’

Silvan shrugged. ‘Haven’t a clue. I mean, you could say it’s because of them I was threatened with the sack in the first place. Northcote getting wind of the fact that I’m coming round to their point of view. Well, they can stick their stupid anti-fracking campaign from now on.’

‘Don’t be like that. It’s not just Elin and Bede – the whole village is against it.’ She frowned. ‘But I’d have thought they’d have helped you out.’

‘You’re not the only one. I think it’s come from Elin. Doesn’t want me around. Listen, Tammy, can you keep a secret?’

‘Cross my heart.’

‘She’s been coming on to me.’

‘Get off.’

‘Seriously. And when I made it clear I wasn’t interested she didn’t like it. So my theory is that she’s blanking me, a) so he doesn’t suspect anything and b) because I get the impression things aren’t all sweetness and light in the Sherwell household and she’s taking it out on me. People need scapegoats. And he’s going along with it ’cause he doesn’t want to upset her.’

Tamsin stopped. ‘I don’t believe it. They’re not like that.’

He tugged her hand and led her over the stile, down the footpath towards the river. ‘Go on then, you’re their best mate. What do you think?’

‘I think they just want it as a holiday cottage. They need the money. He told me.’

‘Those two do not need money. Have you seen all they’ve got there?’

She felt inexplicably defensive. ‘They’ve put a lot of work into it. On a shoestring.’

He laughed. ‘Bollocks. It’s all inherited; didn’t you know?’

‘From Bede’s uncle? That’s only part of it. They’re still, like, paying it off. I’ve heard them talking about it.’

‘Really? What have they told you? I heard that uncle – Joe, wasn’t it? – drowned in the flood a couple of years back. Maybe they’re hiding something.’ He pulled a theatrical face. ‘Died in mysterious circumstances.’

‘You’re not suggesting they did away with him for his house and money!’

He raised his eyebrows.

‘You. Are. Joking. No, it’s not even funny.’

She quickened her pace and walked ahead.

‘You’ve got to admit, Tammy, they’re driven. Him in particular. Fucking obsessed. Maybe Joe wanted to call time on all that eco stuff. Imagine the lengths a man on a mission would go to. You’ve said yourself Bede’s unpredictable. And what about her? Do you think she liked sharing a home with her husband’s uncle?’

They were at the river’s edge. She stopped and gazed into the fast-flowing water. Silvan stood beside her and put his arm round her.

‘I’m not having it,’ she said. ‘I dunno how you can even think it. Only this afternoon he was getting all emotional about Joe. Weirded me out a bit to be honest.’

‘Yeah? What was that about?’

Tamsin pictured Bede’s haunted eyes and felt slightly guilty about betraying him as she said, ‘He found this birthday card. Seems Joe had a son Bede didn’t know about Can you believe it?’

Silvan laughed dismissively. ‘What’s to believe? Sons send dads birthday cards all the time.’

‘No, this was from Joe. Returned unopened. Sad, isn’t it?’

‘S’pose. None of our business. What do I care?’

‘Oh, you’ve got no heart.’ She nudged him playfully, relieved he wasn’t going to push her to say more, and changed the subject. ‘Anyway, hope you don’t mind, but I said I’d go back and help again tomorrow. It doesn’t bother you, does it?’

He took her hand, drew her to him and kissed her lightly.

‘Why would it? Just watch him, Tammy. There’s something about that man I don’t trust.’ He began walking. ‘Let’s get a move on. I’m starving. And we’re celebrating.’ He grinned at her. ‘I’ve been saving the good news. You can do what you like at Alder-bloody-leat and I won’t give a toss. You know I said they could stuff their campaign? I’ve sweet-talked Northcote into keeping me on while he’s got bigger things on his mind. You can go off and enjoy your family holiday safe in the knowledge I’ll be here waiting for you when you get home.’

10th December, 2001

So I guess I’m not going back. Don’t know which makes me sadder, losing Sophie or leaving the community, the family I thought I was becoming part of. Suppose that’ll break up any day now, though. The road scheme’s going to win, they always do.

‘Joseph,’ she says. She has this thing about always calling people by their full names. Graham, Francine, Stephen. (I’ll never forget when Bede apologised, first weekend he was there, for only having one syllable. Didn’t get them off to a good start.) ‘I was picking your jacket up off the floor.’

She gives me this look. It wasn’t the usual stuff about me being a bit tidier. No, she was holding up my wallet that had slipped out of the pocket, waving my photo of Suzie and the kids in my face. Taken a few weeks before I left, it was; our Emma’s 8 and Niall only 5. My heart sank.

‘So?’ she says. ‘Who are they?’

I’m staring at her, mind blank. Can’t think of a convincing story, but don’t want to lie. I mumbled something about my ex-wife and kids.

‘Ex?’ she says. ‘So why are you carrying it around?’

I found it the other day when I was packing up to move to Alderleat, just put it in my wallet without thinking. Don’t know why, it only breaks my heart. I told Sophie we’d been apart for three years – three years already! Hard to believe – and there was no way I’d have some sordid affair behind her or Suzie’s back.

This hard look comes into her eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you split up?’

‘It never came up so I didn’t see no reason to tell you. Why we split? We argued.’

‘What about?’

‘Stuff.’ My mind racing. She’s suddenly on at me, insisting she wants to know. I just kept saying it was over and showed her my empty ring finger. You can probably just still see the trace if you know you’re looking – old and faded enough to be in the past not just removed for the weekend.

‘So if it’s over what’s the harm in telling me?’

Jesus, there are times I wonder why I didn’t chuck her out the car when she was giving it out about my bacon sarnie.

‘If it’s over why do you need to know?’

She reminded me about Kelly. The woman’s neurotic, but even so, she didn’t deserve that. She turned up a couple of weeks ago in floods of tears. Her boyfriend of several years started behaving weirdly then just upped and disappeared without trace. They suspect he was some kind of infiltrator, a government spy, can you believe? As if anyone would want to spy on a group of environment protesters. But Grey and people he knows seem to think it’s for real.

‘So come on, Joseph,’ Sophie says. ‘Out with it. Tell me why you left your wife. Otherwise how do I know you did? That you’re not one of them?’

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’ve done my bloody best to make up for what happened back then, to be a decent fella, and whatever I do people still think the worst of me. Not just people. Sophie, who’s supposed to love me. I could feel the rage bubbling under.

‘Say that again.’

And she stares me out, tears in her eyes, and asks me again. Tell me why. I’m not proud of myself and God help me if anyone reads this. I lost it with her. Totally lost it. Grabbed her and shook her and yelled how can you think that of me you heartless bitch, doesn’t what we had mean anything? It’s in the fucking past, just leave it, what the hell does it matter?! She opened her mouth to argue and I slapped her. Then I froze. Felt sick.

She looks at me and says, well I got my answer, didn’t I?

Turns away.

That’s it. The photo’s gone, burned, ashes trampled into the ground, same as this page probably will be once I’ve got it out my system.

There’s no way I’m telling our Bede. I’d been wondering whether he ought to know about Suzie and the kids, but this settles it. I’m sorry but I just couldn’t stand to risk losing someone else. I feel bad about keeping stuff from him, but he should be glad he’s come to mean that much to me.