Chapter 42: Chapter 42

Michael The lawns might have been mown, but the shrubs and borders are heading for the sky. A quick exploration of a small back shed produces saw and secateurs, so I set to, getting the garden back under control.

“Hello.”

I turn to see a woman, standing by the garden gate. Wearing jeans and a shirt, her hair tied tightly back in a ponytail, she has a prim, pleasant face. “Hello, I’m Eleanor Collier. I’ve been keeping an eye on the house. I saw something was happening…?”

I stand, wiping muck and sap off my hands and onto my pants, then stride forward to offer my hand.

“Michael Summerford.” My brain connects the dots. “Collier, was it? Charlo… Jennifer’s foster mother?”

Her face lights up. “That’s right. You know Jenny? She’s here?”

“I’m her husband. And yes, she’s here.” I yell towards the upstairs window. “Charlotte! Friend of yours here.” I gesture to the gate. “You’d better come in.”

From above, a movement at the window, then a clatter down the stairs and Charlotte erupts from the house, her eyes wide and her face lit to a delighted smile. “Mrs Collier!” The woman holds out her arms and Charlotte throws herself into the embrace.

James appears at the door, pointing and mouthing to me silently. ‘Who?’

I mouth just a silently back, ‘Foster mother.’

The two women are chattering excitedly. “It’s so lovely to see you, Jenny.” She stands back, looking her up and down. “And you look so well…”

*****

Inside, Sebastian keeps an endless supply of pots of tea coming, plus the coffee James enjoys; fit to asphalt the road with. Charlotte and Chad sit with Eleanor, gossiping and catching up on old times.

James sits in the background, silently watching, a smile playing around the corner of his mouth.

There’s a knock at the door. I yell through. “It’s open.”

There’s a click, a clunk and footsteps, then the door opens and a woman steps inside. “Eleanor, I saw your car… Oh!”

Her eyes settle on Chad. “Chad! You never said you were here. What…?” Then she sees Charlotte, and with a face like a wasp, “Oh, it’s you, is it? Come to cause more trouble, I suppose.”

Thunder rolls over James’ face and he starts to stand, but I gesture him down as Chad, rising smoothly from his seat, says, “Hi, Mom. Yes, I was coming to see you. There’s someone I want you to meet.” He shouts back into the kitchen. “Seb, take a break will you and come through.”

Sebastian’s slim, pretty, Latino face pokes around the door. “Yup?”

Chad strides over, takes him by the hand then tugs him into the room. “Mom, this is Sebastian, my husband.”

Her face goes slack, then her forehead knits. “Chad, dear, I don’t understand you. Why are you here with…” She casts a venomous glance at Charlotte… “… with her? I thought when you divorced her that would be the end of it.”

“Mom, I didn’t divorce Jenny. She divorced me. And this is why.” He swings up his hand, still entwined with Sebastian’s, then points to the gold band on the fourth finger. “My marriage to Jenny was never going to work, and it wasn’t her fault.”

James watches with an expression of fascination, propping an elbow on his chair arm and his chin on his knuckles.

Mrs Bennett’s face morphs through a kind of rainbow from pink through red to purple, which looks wrong on the face of a wasp.

Sebastian pipes up. “Can I get you a cup of tea, Mrs Bennett? We were all just getting to know each other.”

She doesn’t so much as look at him. Lips pursed tight she brushes dust from the tweed of her jacket.

“Your father will have something to say about this.” And turning on her heel, she marches out, banging the door closed behind her.

Eleanor bursts into laughter. “Oh, God, Chad. Why did you not do that years ago? You would have saved everyone so much trouble…” Her eyes shift to Charlotte… “… and some of us a lot of anguish.”

Chad breathes deep, rubs the back of his head. “Yes, I should have done, shouldn’t I. But she’s my mother and…”

“… and she’s needed telling for a long time. She may be your mother but she’s also…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Jenny, when I think… That morning after your wedding when you were so upset. I wish I’d known.” She grinds to a halt, and the silence grows awkward.

“Eleanor,” says James. “I have a favour to ask. Am I right in thinking that Jenny here rode one of your horses?”

Her face breaks into a sunshine smile. “Of course, yes. Oh, you’ll want to see Charlie again while you’re here, won’t you Jenny?”

“I’d love to.”

Chad leans in close. “And now, you’re going to see a sight to behold.”

*****

Oh, my God…

I’ve never had a lot to do with horses. I’m a city boy. Horses are something from movies and racing tracks.

That’s going to change.

Charlotte sits astride a mare; very pretty, with a black mane, tail and lower legs. The rest of her…

“I didn’t know horses come in pink.”

James, arms resting on the timber rail of the fence, gives me a side-look. “The colouring pattern is called ‘bay roan’. I wouldn’t let any of the locals hear you describe her as ‘pink’ if I were you.”

I don’t care. I watch my wife riding her namesake.

The meadow stands two feet high in a swaying sea of grass, dotted in white and blue and yellow with wildflowers. The hum of insects rises over the whisper of the breeze. Charlotte sits atop Charlie, picking her way through at a slow walk.

The breeze ruffles my hair. “What’s that smell?”

James sniffs, nostrils flaring. “It’s either late hawthorn or early meadowsweet.”

“It’s as though the air’s full of honey.”

Horse and rider pick up pace, moving to a trot. Charlotte’s hair, long and loose, ripples behind her as she rises and falls with her mount. The mare switching to a canter, picks up speed. Her mane and tail stream in the wind, matching Charlotte’s copper tresses, glistening in the sunlight.

The two break into a full gallop, racing pell-mell through tall grass like the wind brought alive.

She looks like a goddess.

“You know…” says Chad… I startle. I’d not noticed him join us, standing by me, also leaning on the rail.

“You know, it was when I saw her years ago, riding Charlie, just like that, that I fell in love with Jenny. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.”

“I believe you.”

We watch in silence.

After a while, I say, “We absolutely have to get her a horse.”

James Hmmms... “Wonder if they’d sell Charlie? In a few months maybe, once the baby’s born.”

“Let’s go find out.”

*****

“Eleanor, would you be interested in selling Charlie?”

“You’re interested? Yes, in fact I would. She’s been one of my best breeding mares, but she’s getting too old for it now. I’d like to retire her to a good home.” She pins me with a gimlet eye. “You have proper facilities for her?”

“We would if you’re willing to wait a few months.”

She hovers. “How many months?”

“End of the year.”

“That’s quite a long wait.”

“Charlotte’s pregnant. Lovely as she looks out there…” I wave across the rippling waves of grass… “I’d not want her on a horse again for several months.”

Eleanor’s face lights up in that pretty way she has. “Oh, congratulations. And yes, of course, that would be entirely sensible.” Then her face sets again. “Would there be company for Charlie? Horses are herd animals. They shouldn’t be kept alone. I’ll not sell an animal if there’s not at least one other.”

I stall. I’d not considered that. “Ahh…”

But James breaks in. “Yes, there would. I wouldn’t mind a horse for myself.”

I blink. “You can ride?”

“Yes, I can ride. It’s a long time since I did any, not since I was a boy. So, I’d have to ease into it, but it’s excellent exercise and it would help take some strain off this.” He pats his thigh.

Eleanor raises brows. “If you’re out of practice, then a good steady gelding might be what you need. In fact, I have one of Charlie’s own sons I was thinking of selling. He’s a nice solid, sensible lad. You want to throw a leg over?”

While one of the stable-hands lays a saddle over a horse that looks, to my eye, huge, Eleanor says, "About that delay in buying..."

“I can’t bring it forward. Not with Charlotte expecting.”

“No, I wasn’t going to say that. But I was thinking. Has she decided what she’s doing about the house?”

“I'm not sure. She doesn’t want to live in it herself. Our home is elsewhere. But I don’t think she wants to sell it either. She's very sentimental about the place.”

Eleanor turns business-like. “I thought that might be the case. The thing is, the farm’s expanding, especially the livery side of the business. I’m short of space to house the new hands and I was wondering if you might be interested in renting it out?”

“That sounds like the perfect solution. I’ll talk to her. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”

*****

James interrupts my gardening. “You seen Charlotte?”

“She said she was going for a walk.” I nod along the road. “She went that-a-way.” I straighten up, pressing hands into my lower spine. “Actually, now I think about it, her tone was a bit odd.”

“You look as if you’ve done enough for a while. Want to take a break and stretch your legs?”

“Good idea. I’ll just tell Chad we’re going out.”

I find him inside, paint bucket in hand, slapping emulsion on a bedroom wall. “James and I are just going for a walk. I don’t think we’ll be long.”

He cocks an eye at me, his expression assessing. “You might like to know that Mr Kalkowski is buried nearby, in the churchyard.”

“He is? I thought…”

“He had no traceable family, so he stayed here. Some of the holier-than-thou churchy types tried to kick up a fuss about it, but Mrs Collier kicked up a bigger fuss and they found a space for him.”

“Gotcha.”

He moves to the window and points a long finger along the road; the same direction Charlotte went.

“That way for about half a mile, then it’s on your left.”

*****