December
After she’d wiped her hands on the towel by the sink, Angela took a deep breath. It had been a week since Margaret had moved out to stay with her sister and almost the same amount of time since she and Ed had spoken more than ten words to each other. At night, the gap in their bed seemed to grow wider and Ed’s bulk more solid and defensive. If something didn’t thaw out the tension pretty soon, Angela knew she would feel compelled to move out herself – she bet it would then only be a matter of hours before Ed’s mother came home. But that’s not what she wanted, not at all.
Ed mattered to her, and her life on the farm was exactly that: her life. Where else would she go? It wasn’t as if her old life, which now seemed so carefree and simple, even existed anymore. It had just been her and her mother most of her life, which had felt more like two friends sharing a house together. When Angela was only twelve, her father had left them for another woman, who it turned out he’d been having an affair with for many years. Angela had taken care of her mother for months, making sure she ate well and actually went to bed rather than fall asleep on the sofa with an empty bottle of wine in her hand. It hadn’t been easy to witness the devastation, but deep down, she knew her mother would survive and have a happier life for it.
And so she had for quite a few years. Then she was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer and needed care of a different sort. It had drained Angela of any energy she had left after working full time in the local pub. After her mother’s death, she had sold their few belongings, given up the tenancy of their small house, and moved into the accommodation that came with the job at the pub.
A few more years passed where she lived a simple, but peaceful life. The landlords, Bruce and Ann, trusted her implicitly with running the pub on her own if they wanted to take some holiday. She managed everything, including staff, kitchens, menus, and rooms. It was her life and left her no time to dwell on the future or the past. One night a big, smiling man had walked in and turned her world upside down. It was Ed, out for the night with some other young farmers, and from the moment he spoke to the slim, auburn-haired woman behind the bar, he was smitten. A romance that looked perfect from the outside, but it wasn’t without some complications. Not only did Angela not really want to give up the pub, but she sensed already that Ed’s mother didn’t approve of her.
Still, she loved the big man and felt confident enough in what they felt for each other to be able to surmount any problems they faced then or in the future. He put a ring on her finger the day before the owners announced they were selling the pub. The two events couldn’t have occurred more serendipitously.
Wind forward five years and now the other secret she was keeping from him was being a member of Stevie’s winter swimming team and going to the championships in February. It was time she told him.
She could hear the television was on in the living room and she could visualise Ed slouched on the sofa, his long legs akimbo and his chin down on his barrel-like chest, probably snoring, but maybe with his eyes half open vaguely watching the screen. During the week, while driving to meet Holly and Stevie at the lake, she had been rehearsing how she was going to tell Ed, but had never practised it in front of them. Now she regretted that. Their support was sincere, but it felt disloyal to Ed to go into too much detail about her marriage or life at the farm.
After a few phone calls to her friend, Emma, Stevie had organised what sounded like a really fun weekend down in Oxford and needed to know for sure whether Angela was able to go. Going with the other two felt like a massive deal to Angela, but she knew that in the current circumstances, she would have to explain to Ed very clearly why she wanted to go. Having his blessing would make it all possible and give them both some space to reflect on recent events.
Turning off the kitchen light was a signal to herself that the moment had come. There was nothing like darkness to remind you of the innate human need for warmth and love. That need could be met if she and Ed talked – she had every confidence, even though her hands were shaking and all she wanted to do was waste some more time doing chores.
Now she was marching down the stone-flagged corridor towards the sounds of a familiar soundtrack: The One Show. Not a programme Ed would mind missing, so the timing was perfect. The conversation opener she’d been practising was at the front of her mind, so she had no idea why, when she opened her mouth to speak, something completely random came out instead.
‘Ed, love, the engine light on the car has come on. Shall I book it in to the garage or will you look at it tomorrow?’
It did the trick. Ed moved his head slightly, reached for the remote, and turned the sound down on the television. ‘What?’
‘I said the engine light—’
‘Nah, I’ll take a look.’ He turned the sound up again and shuffled about a bit on the sofa making himself more comfortable.
No, no, no, thought Angela. I’m not going to give up so easily. ‘Ed, I thought I’d tell you what my plans are for next weekend, I’m excited about it and I’d love to share it with you.’
She winced. It sounded so like therapy jargon, not her way of talking at all, but desperate measures were needed and it was all she had.
‘I’m listening,’ said Ed, but didn’t move or take his eyes away from the screen.
‘If you’re listening, then why not look at me too? How do you know I haven’t grown horns or dyed my hair black?’
The television went off and Ed sat up and turned to face Angela, who was perched on the edge of the chair by the stove – his mother’s chair.
Angela one, Ed zero. She felt a tiny lurch of her stomach. Here goes!
‘I’ve been invited down to Oxford to stay with some friends, well, friends of one of the women I swim with.’ She decided to go the whole hog and tell him then and there about the winter swimming championships, but wanted to take it slowly and get Ed on board with the idea of going down to Oxford first.
Ed shook his head and he reached for the remote again, but Angela was quicker. ‘No. Let’s just take a few moments to talk about how and when I’m going, what it means for you here on the farm on your own – the practical things, you know.’
To Angela’s relief, his face relaxed a little and she felt able to continue, but instead of sitting in Margaret’s chair, she moved to perch on the edge of the wooden chest they used for a table in front of the sofa. It was close enough to Ed, but not squashed in next to him on the soft cushions – maybe they’d get there at some point if all went well, but she kept a lid on such a hopeful thought.
‘So, when are you going?’ asked Ed, actually looking into Angela’s eyes for the first time in a week. ‘Mother’s wanting to come home. I don’t know what to say to her.’ He shook his head sadly and sighed. ‘I can’t live like this, Ang, it’s ridiculous. I feel caught between a rock and a hard place.’
His words hit her like a ton of cold, powdery soft snow, leaving her buried under emotion and struggling for breath. While she metaphorically spat out snowflakes, reaching for the right words, Ed had time to continue to talk and it seemed there was no stopping him.
‘I love you both, but I can’t live with you both if this nonsense continues. It’s Mother’s farm still, but you’re my wife. Can you see how impossible it is? If I take Mother’s side, I’m hurting you and if I protect you from her crazy behaviour, it’ll only get worse and we’ll get more of this.’ He waved his arm across to the now empty chair by the fire. ‘Mother is a good woman, you know.’
Angela wanted to say otherwise, but having recomposed herself, she knew now was not the moment to disagree.
Ed continued, ‘Losing Dad near killed her. It’s certainly warped her sense of normal and tolerance. You won’t remember much of how she was when Dad was alive, though. We’d only just met really.’
Angela shook her head and smiled and Ed smiled back. Something in him had softened slightly and she felt her shoulders ease down from round her ears.
‘He was her world, her everything. It was a Great Love. Did I ever tell you more about him?’
Angela shook her head; Ed had hardly ever talked about his mother and father even when they first met.
‘He didn’t come from a farming background, you know, but they met when he was here one summer vacation from his university, working his way round farms to learn more about animal husbandry. He was training to be a vet.’
Angela was astonished. She knew the farm had been handed down to his mother from her family, but had assumed his father came from another farming family. No wonder Ed had never been bothered about her own lack of farming genes, but surely his mother should have been more understanding given she’d married a man from ‘outside’, so to speak.
‘That’s quite a sacrifice he made for love! I’m so sorry about your dad. Your mother’s grief is completely understandable and I’ve never doubted it.’ She hesitated, then found the courage to add, ‘All I’ve found unfair is why she’s never taken the time to get to know me and I’ve done nothing but be kind and patient with her. Well, until recently! But I was pushed too far, she pushed me too far, and I had to react. I’m sorry.’
‘You did. And I get it, Ang. I’ve watched how you’ve been with her and I’ve prayed every day that gradually her thorny exterior would soften, she’d let her barriers down, and allow you to come into the family.’
‘Were we getting close?’ asked Angela with a tiny chunk of hope and even greater sense of fear that if she’d just waited a bit longer…
‘No, I don’t think so. Your announcement about swimming in the lake knocked it back a few months, but to be honest, I think her grief is so engrained in her psyche now, there’s little you could’ve done to change things.’
‘Could’ve? That sounds so final! As if I’m not going to see her again – what do you mean, Ed?’
‘Slip of the tongue, Ang.’ He reached out his huge hand and patted her knee, but didn’t leave his hand there. ‘So, change of subject, when, why, how?’ Ed leant back into the sofa and looked at Angela, waiting for the detail.
‘Oh! Right, yes, going to Oxford.’ Angela paused and with an enormous leap of faith, said, ‘Ed, can I tell you the truth, I mean the whole truth? About why we’re really going, I mean?’
Ed frowned, not in an angry way, but more as if he was confused. ‘Why wouldn’t you want to tell me anything but the truth? I can take it, Ang, I was brought up having to make life and death decisions, given jobs that were maybe too tough for my age, but out on the fells in a blizzard there was either a ewe missing or there wasn’t. Think of the time and effort to search by quad bike and if I’d counted wrong, or not bothered to count the ewes at all, there’d be consequences. Mother will tell you that I just did as I was told’. His voice trailed off and for a moment or two he was elsewhere, lost in memories. And then he shook his head slowly before sighing deeply.
‘For God’s sake, Ang, I’m exhausted from all this. All these emotions. I can’t handle it. Just tell me and we can deal with it. It can’t be that bad! Or is there something you’re not telling me about, like another man?’ His laugh was half-hearted, but gave Angela the confidence to realise that the corner had been turned. Now it was down to her to share everything, just as Ed had spoken out about how he felt so trapped by the situation too. She took a deep breath and started to tell him about the winter swimming championships and how much it meant to them all.