THE LETTER

Anneke appears at the door, ashen-faced and trembling.

‘Thanks goodness you’re here John.’

As he bends his head to step into the hallway, she collapses against him. He places his hands awkwardly on her shoulders.

‘What is it Anneke – are you ill?’

She mumbles into his chest. He pushes her gently away and she looks up at him.

‘It’s Sheila and Treve.

Anneke looks upstairs in the direction of the bedroom. He bounds up the stairs; his shoulders slump as he stops in the doorway. Valerie has followed him so he turns to block her view and says ‘Can you take Anneke up to the Manor House please, she’ll show you where it is – and ring for an ambulance. I’ll stay here until they come.’

He ushers Anneke and Valerie out of the house and into the yard and then walks heavily back up to the bedroom, feeling that he should not leave his friends alone. He eases himself onto the window seat – his body blocking the remnants of light from the evening sun. In the gloom he sees some envelopes propped against the lamp on the mahogany chest beside him. The top envelope is addressed to him in his friend’s familiar handwriting – surprisingly neat and precise for a man of Treve’s stature. John always thought of Treve as a gentle giant. The other envelopes are addressed to each of Treve and Sheila’s sons, Paul and Stephen. The boys emigrated to Australia ten years ago.

Who will tell them? It feels brutal and impersonal for such news to be relayed by the Australian police. John’s hand trembles as he opens the envelope that bears his name. It contains a single sheet of paper. He can just make out the words in the remaining light.

Dear John

By the time you read this I’ll be gone. Things have been hard as you know. I have been useless, just watching Sheila’s pain. Yesterday she had a choking fit and I thought I was going to lose her. I could not bear the look of fear in her eyes. I’d not let an animal suffer like it. Now it is over and she is at peace.

It is best if we are both out of the way so that Margaret can get on with her plans.

Please can you look after things here until the farm is sorted. Thank Anneke for her kindness – her help has been a Godsend.

Goodbye old pal.

Treve

John rests his hands in his lap and turns to gaze out of the window into the twilight. His eyes are shining and he reaches for a handkerchief to wipe them. Eventually he becomes aware of barking from the yard. He stands, straightens his shoulders and gives each of his friends a nod of respect. Then he goes downstairs and out into the farmyard.

 Looking at his watch he realises he is due to meet Jo in the pub. He sends her a text: Sorry – still at the farm. Bad news.

The barking is coming from the trailer. The collie jumps up at the sight of him, wagging her tail.

‘Hello Jess’ he says, rubbing her head. ‘It looks like you’re coming home with me.’ He gives a whistle and she jumps to the ground and sits at his feet, her head on one side awaiting instruction. He walks across the yard with Jess at his heels to check that the animals are safe for the night and that the farm buildings are secure.

There is a flurry of long flapping raincoat as Jo arrives. She rushes towards him.

‘John – what is going on? Has something happened to Sheila?’

John shakes his head. ‘It’s not just Sheila. They are both gone. Treve left me this.’ He hands the letter to her. As she reads the note Jo sinks onto the bench outside the kitchen door. John recalls Sheila sitting in the same spot podding peas and stripping black currants.

‘I don’t understand,’ says Jo. ‘What does he mean by my mother’s plans?’

*

Across the yard, inside the static caravan, Kerenza is finding things difficult.

Kevin says, You don’t need me now, do you?

She looks at him. ‘So I’m to put Piran to bed, am I?’

‘I’m just going out for a pint.’ He leaves. She will give Piran his supper and get him to bed, but she is anxious to get on with some sewing for her stall at the craft fair next weekend.

‘Better get into your pyjamas.

‘No, Mummy, no!’

Kerenza shuts her eyes and mentally counts to ten. ‘And you can’t go to bed with that sticky face. Come on, be a good boy for Mummy.’

‘I don’t want to go to bed.’ His bottom lip starts to quiver, ‘I want Daddy.’

‘If Daddy was here he’d say it was bedtime,’ says his mother. ‘Come on, little monkey. That’s right, good boy. Now the other hand.’

Telling herself that a lick and a promise will have to do tonight, she lifts Piran up, holds him close, kisses him and gently lowers him into his little bunk. The quilt, with its pattern of pirate ships and desert islands, she made from some curtains she found in a charity shop. She goes to close the curtains that she made when Treve offered them the use of the old caravan. That was two years ago, not long after they arrived in their camper van. It was inadequate for a small family now.

The windows have steamed over, so she wipes a space on the pane. The rain has stopped but the sky is overcast and everything outside is wet. She can see John and Jo standing outside the farmhouse. Jo seems to be reading something.

‘Night night,’ Kerenza says to Piran, ‘Sleep tight.’ She moves to the other end of the caravan and starts sorting through a pile of half-completed work, silks and cottons in exotic jewel-like colours.

‘Mummy, I’m thirsty.’

Laying aside her work with a sigh, Kerenza pulls herself to her feet and gets a cup of water from the tiny kitchen. ‘Here you are, now snuggle down. I don’t want to hear another peep.’

The little boy wriggles in the bed, clutching a fluffy rabbit. His eyes are closing and he is sucking his thumb when there is shouting outside. Cursing under her breath, Kerenza goes to the door and waves frantically at John and Jo to be quiet, just catching a few angry words. Jo is waving a piece of paper under John’s nose.

‘I can’t believe you haven’t breathed a word of this!’ Kerenza hears Jo shout. John’s response is inaudible, but Jo launches in again, screaming, “Of course I’m angry. You should have told me.”

‘Mummy, Mummy!’

‘It’s all right sweetheart, it’s nothing exciting. Just somebody being a bit noisy. Go back to sleep.’ She gently strokes back a wisp of hair from his forehead and his eyelids close before the van’s interior is illuminated by a pulsating blue light. She looks out again as the approaching emergency vehicle disappears around the corner of the farmhouse. She wonders what has happened and thinks it must be something to do with Sheila. But Anneke will be there by now and will help Treve.

Kerenza turns back inside the caravan, unsettled by the drama, and gives up hope of doing any work tonight. The light is fading anyway, and the main thing is that Piran is warm, dry and asleep. She begins to wonder how much longer she can go on like this.

The yard falls silent and Kerenza sleeps, not stirring even around 2.00am when Kevin fumbles his way into the caravan. Outside, save for the night sounds of the countryside, all remains quiet through the dark hours before dawn.

Chapter 3