Daughter of Dark River Farm (28 page)

A splash of rain hit the back of his neck, wetting my fingers, and the skin between them became suddenly slick. Another hit his shoulder, and then one splashed onto my forehead.

Archie drew back and squinted at the sky. ‘I think it might be Scotland…uh, I mean raining.’

‘I think you might be right.’ I tilted my head back to follow his gaze. ‘That would explain the water, don’t you think?’

A low rumble trembled somewhere in the distance, and the rain came down faster. It was so deliciously cool on my work-heated skin, and Archie looked so young and carefree, with water dripping off his nose, I would have been happy to stay there all night. But the window opened, and Frances’s voice cut through the pattering of the rain.

‘That’s all very romantic, and we’re all delighted, but for goodness’ sake come indoors. We’ll have to dry those clothes somehow!’

Archie gave a low chuckle. ‘That’s us told,’ he murmured directly into my ear. His arm went around my shoulder as we turned to go back into the farmhouse, and he grew serious as he pulled me to a stop. ‘Before we go in… You might never understand what you’ve given me, but I hope you’ll let me give it back as well as I can.’

I wrapped my own arm around his waist, feeling his warmth through the rough shirt, and loving the strength in his powerful frame all the more for the gentleness it disguised. ‘You already have. I’ve been an idiot.’

‘Well luckily for you I’m partial to idiots.’ He ducked his head to pass through the door, and when the four remaining faces turned to us, they were all smiling. Evie crossed the kitchen and took me into a warm hug.

‘It’s so good to see you. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am about those things my mother—’

‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘I understand, she was speaking from grief. And I’m happy.’

‘Of course.’ She drew back and smiled at us both. ‘It’s about time. The two of you have wanted your heads banging together.’

‘Hey, it’s not down to me,’ Archie protested, tugging at my hair gently. ‘I tried. More than once, if you’ll remember.’

‘Leave them alone,’ Frances scolded, but her warm expression belied her tone. ‘Kitty, go and wash. Archie, sit and finish your tea.’ She gave a happy kind of sigh, one I hadn’t really heard before. ‘Lizzy is going to be thrilled to bits when she comes up tomorrow.’

‘I can’t wait to see her,’ Evie said. ‘She’ll be every bit as pleased as we are. I knew, as soon as we met Archie at Crewe, that there was something he wasn’t telling us about why he wanted to come here.’ She smiled at me. ‘I should have realised it would have something to do with you, Skittles.’

‘Ooh, won’t Lizzy be sort of your aunt now, Kitty?’ Belinda added.

I hadn’t thought that far. ‘I suppose so, now you mention it. I’m going,’ I assured Frances, who looked about to banish me once again to tidy myself.

Upstairs, after a good wash and having changed into clean, dry trousers and blouse, I looked at myself in the mirror. For just a moment I found my old, traitorous doubts floating to the surface; why on earth would someone as handsome, kind and clever as Archie Buchanan want me? I was still more rounded than I wanted to be, despite the physically demanding farmwork; my face wasn’t anything like the girls on the Land Army posters; my hair did whatever it wanted to do, which was usually the opposite of what
I
wanted it to… In that I was more like Lizzy, I supposed. Perhaps the Carlisle men were naturally drawn to messy-haired women.

I heard laughter drifting up from downstairs, almost as if they had caught my thoughts and were sharing my amusement, and then Archie’s voice rose above the others, protesting once again as he was good-naturedly scolded. When I turned back to the mirror to check my blouse was buttoned correctly, I saw my own smile and it widened. I deserved Archie, because he loved me. And he deserved me because I loved him. What else was there?

Jessie didn’t come down for dinner, and neither did we see Nathan, who was out painting in the barn. I was glad; with just the six of us it felt like family, and with the constant awareness of Archie at my side I felt relaxed, and happier than I could remember. I missed Amy though. She had gone to bed already. At least tomorrow, now the hay was in, I would have time to spend with her—perhaps the three of us could go for a long walk if the rain had stopped.

The low rumbling of thunder had crept closer throughout the evening, and now, with the sky darkened, the increasingly frequent flashes were more vivid at the windows. Before we retired to the sitting room, however, Frances set stubs of half-melted candles in saucers and took her whisky bottle out, as I’d hoped.

‘We’ve got a toast or two to make, before we take our comfort,’ she said, her voice solemn. ‘It’s only right we should do it now, while we’re all together.’ She poured a tot into each glass and handed them around, then took a deep breath. ‘Name your fallen, here among your loved ones,’ she said, her voice shaking a little, ‘and we’ll wish them our peace.’

I felt Archie tense beside me, then pick up his glass. Everyone did the same, and spoke the names of those we’d lost. Some I didn’t know: Belinda named an uncle and one of her cousins; Archie said the name of his battalion commander, who’d died at his side a year ago; Frances whispered her late husband’s name; Will raised his glass to the man he’d fought alongside, and tried to save: Barry Glenn; and Evie closed her eyes and said, ‘Lawrence Creswell.’

There was a silence while she struggled with her emotions, then she raised her head, cleared her throat, and tilted her glass in salute. ‘Peace also to Billy Duncan, stable boy. Joe Shackleton, hall boy. And Boxy Wood, my courageous and desperately missed friend.’ Evie had so many to mourn; surely she deserved an end to it now? It wasn’t until then that I realised, with a mixture of gratitude and superstitious fear that I had no-one special to name. Not yet. I looked at Archie, a chill brushing the nape of my neck; what if that meant that one day I would find myself naming him? I cast about in panic. ‘Anne Ashby,’ I said at last, remembering the Red Cross girl who’d helped us so often at Number Twelve, and who’d died there in the same explosion that had wounded Evie.

No-one seemed to realise I’d plucked the name from the air. Each was lost in their own memories and grief. Oliver’s life had been spared, and as of now, the only deaths I had encountered had been those poor boys who had passed through my hands during my duties in Belgium. I’d felt a responsibility to them, and a deep and aching sadness when they’d passed on, but let other people speak the names of those dead. Let their families and friends raise their glasses to them… Everyone I had ever really loved was here in England. Safe. I couldn’t feel anything except passionate gratitude for that.

Shortly after we’d settled in the sitting room we heard footsteps on the stairs, and the door opened timidly to admit Jessie. She exchanged warm greetings with Evie and Will, and then her gaze took in Archie and me. We were sitting in separate chairs, but our hands were linked, and her face went blank with surprise. I’d never even mentioned Archie to her, and it seemed no-one else had, either. He rose to his feet, and I had to hide a smile in my curled hand when I saw her eyes follow the graceful way he uncoiled from his chair, to stand straight and tall in front of her.

‘Jessie Goulding, this is Captain Archie Buchanan,’ I said, enjoying her look of awe and, it was obvious to all of us, impressed appreciation. ‘We’ve been friends since childhood.’

‘Aye, and now she’s agreed to keep me out of mischief for the rest of our lives,’ he added, turning to smile at me, and earning my everlasting gratitude on top of everything else. He turned back. ‘Good to meet you, Jessie.’

‘Likewise, Captain Buchanan,’ she said, shaking his hand, and looking past him at me, with a hint of disbelief in her expression. She sat down in the last spare seat on the settee, and waited while Archie reseated himself at my side. ‘Are you here long?’

‘Not nearly long enough,’ he said, reaching out to grasp my hand again. ‘I’m on loan from the army for a week. Government business.’ My heart lurched; government business could mean anything. He must have felt my hand twitch in his, because he looked over. ‘Nothing dangerous, darling. I promise.’

The endearment, and his words, went a long way towards soothing the low-key panic that had started up inside me, but did not wholly extinguish it. ‘Glad to hear it,’ I said, a little uncertainly.

Conversation soon started up again, mostly about the farm, the way we’d worked in the past few days to get the hay safely in, how incredible that we’d done it with hours to spare… Then it went quiet again as the outer kitchen door opened. We heard Nathan come in, kicking off his wet boots, and a minute later he poked his head around the sitting room door, and smiled.

‘Will! I heard you were coming back today.’ He nodded at Evie—there was still reservation there—and then his gaze lit on Archie, sitting in Harry Adams’s old chair as if he belonged there. He said nothing, but nodded, then his smile slid onto me and widened noticeably. I felt Archie’s fingers tighten on mine, but squeezed back gently in silent reassurance. He had nothing to be concerned about there.

‘You must be Nathan,’ he said, rising again. ‘Archie Buchanan.’

‘Archie.’ Nathan took the proffered hand and shook it firmly.

‘Good of you to stay and help Frances. When d’you rejoin your unit?’

Nathan’s smile faded. He looked up at Archie steadily, and I saw him coming to a decision. He turned to Frances then, who shrugged and nodded, a sympathetic look on her face, and I sat up, suddenly interested. What did she know that we didn’t?

Nathan folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’m afraid I’ve not been truthful with you all,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I never joined up; I’m exempt. Pneumonia. Scarring in both lungs.’

There was a silence in the room, while I thought about that cough he’d never quite managed to lose. Then I asked, quietly because I had the feeling I knew the answer, ‘How do you feel about it?’

He looked at me with a strange little self-mocking smile. ‘Pathetic, if you must know.’ He looked over at Will. ‘Especially in front of you.’

‘But why didn’t you tell the truth?’ Will asked. ‘We’ve known each other long enough, surely?’

Nathan sat down in the window seat and rubbed his hands on his thighs, trying to stop them shaking. ‘How could I? Here’s you, out there from the off, traumatised, yet still going back—’

‘How did you know that?’ Evie said, but Nathan ignored her and continued talking only to Will.

‘I was jealous of you, you know. Out there, doing your bit. I was turned down for active service when I first applied, then, when conscription came in I thought, great! They’re going to need me at last.’

‘But?’

‘Turned down again, then given permanent exemption.’ He tapped at his chest. ‘The lungs don’t work properly, never will.’

‘So what have you been doing?’

He grimaced. ‘Menial work. Grocery boy mostly. I saved a bit of money and bought those art materials, was able to get some portrait commissions but not much. Then I heard Will had married well. And that he was wounded.’ He dropped his gaze to the floor. ‘I swear to you, Will, I didn’t realise the injury was so serious,’ he said. ‘I thought you were the lucky one. All the glory, a little bit of pain, and now back home safe, with his rich wife. But as soon as I saw you again, I felt the worst kind of heel. Just…an awful, awful person.’ He raised his eyes to his old friend, and I remembered the way they’d shone with tears at the sight of Will in such obvious pain. ‘I might have come here with the purpose of begging from you and your wife, but I promise you that since that first night the thought has not crossed my mind. I’ve not let it.’

‘Right, he’s told you the truth now,’ Frances put in, her voice a little rough. ‘He was good enough to tell me about the exemption when I asked, but I agreed not to tell the rest of you. He feels badly. Now that should be an end to it.’

But Will wasn’t ready to let it drop. ‘How
were
you able to persuade Martin to tell you where we were?’ He sat forward, his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped tightly enough to make the knuckles white. ‘How did you get him to betray me, Nathan?’ His face was expressionless and I couldn’t tell if he was simply numb from the lies, or furious with Martin.

‘We both…we talked,’ Nathan said. ‘Him and me, we got quite close after a while. His wife’s away in London with the Red Cross, so I’d go to his house and we’d share a drink. Both of us felt…’ He shrugged, but Evie stepped in.

‘Rejected?’

He looked surprised at her understanding, then sighed. ‘Yes.’

‘I know Martin was disappointed not to be going,’ she said, and reached for Will’s hand. ‘Do you remember, just before the wedding?’

Will nodded. ‘His foot. He told me he was sure they’d relax the rules someday, and he was still waiting for that call-up. But it never came.’ He turned to Nathan. ‘I can understand why the two of you would have wanted to be out there, but believe me, and believe him—’ he gestured to Archie ‘—you ought to be glad you never were. Thank your stars, Nathan. I’ve told Martin the same. Thank your bloody stars, mate.’ He levered himself out of his chair, and left the room, and Evie gave us all a quick, nervous smile, and followed him.

‘He’ll be all right,’ she said, and closed the door quietly behind her.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nathan said in a low voice. ‘Tonight was supposed to be a happy time.’

‘And so it is,’ Frances said, with determined cheerfulness. ‘We’ve got the hay in before the rain, Archie’s home for a few days, and young Kitty’s woken up at last.’ She smiled at me, and Archie’s hand found mine again. When I looked at him it took all my self-control not to lean across the gap between our chairs and wrap myself around him, right in front of everyone.

I turned away, with an effort. ‘So how long will you stay here, now the truth is out?’ I said to Nathan.

‘As long as Mrs Adams will have me. At least until Will’s fully recovered, if that’s all right?’ He looked at Frances, who inclined her head in agreement.

‘You’re cheap to feed,’ she said, ‘and you work hard. When you’re not off painting your pictures. You’ll take the pressure off young Will.’