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Authors: Connie Monk

BOOK: Full Circle
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‘Not moved away from your parents' house?'

He laughed, seemingly not noticing her intentional criticism. ‘Put like that it sounds a slight on my manhood,' he agreed, not in the least offended. ‘But now that my mother isn't there the house needs a woman, and Bella will fit the bill admirably. Dad dotes on her; he always had an eye for a pretty girl. The two of them will fall in with the plan, of that I'm sure.' He seemed to be imagining their pleasure when they heard what he'd decided. ‘And except for the occasional day or so I shall be free of those wretched workshops.'

For Louisa, his remarks cast a shadow over the pleasure of his visit. Why should she care that the idea of moving back to Lexleigh appealed to him for reasons she considered selfish? For her, work had always been an important responsibility and she had neither time nor respect for anyone who looked on it as anything less. As they had sat together talking over their coffee and cigarettes she had felt completely comfortable – she had even fooled herself into believing that they had made the base of friendship. Now she felt she saw him more clearly. But why should it matter to her that he had shown himself to have feet of clay? She thought of Bella, so trusting, so adoring, and told herself that it was on Bella's account she was angry.

‘Aren't you taking it for granted that Bella will want to move when, by now, she must be booked in at a hospital or nursing home ready for the baby's arrival? Is it fair to expect her to move?'

Again, that impish smile which unfailingly won hearts and got him his own way. ‘Once the first impact has sunk in she will believe she put the idea in my head. Don't worry about Bella. And, as for my father, he'll delight in it. I must be off. Thanks for the coffee and the chat. Let's do it again, shall we?'

Ignoring the suggestion, her parting shot was, ‘Don't forget to take away your father's key to this house. I can't have him rushing over here every time he sees the lights on.'

‘I'll have a word with Bella. She may be able to get him to part with it. No use me asking him for it – he'd probably think I had some ulterior motive for wanting it!'

Louisa's expression told him just what she thought of such a suggestion. Yet she hated herself for not being able to laugh the situation away. She felt gauche, unworldly. But no matter how she felt, his thoughts had already moved on. ‘May I tell Bella she can call on you?'

‘Bella won't need to be told. Of course, I look forward to seeing her again.'

For a second he looked at her without speaking before he answered, ‘Really? That's kind. She's a good girl.' He hesitated, as if he was considering expounding on the comment, and perhaps he would have, had she not cut in.

‘That's a disgracefully arrogant way of speaking about your wife.' Why should she feel so angry? She hardly knew the girl, and if she were honest with herself she would acknowledge that she had found her tedious, her conversation revolving as it had around her perfect Leo. ‘Tell her I shall be pleased to see her, but I imagine her time will be very full with a house to run and a father-in-law to watch.'

‘I anticipate being there most days. I shan't keep her on a lead. You may wish you hadn't said you'd be pleased to see her at any time.' And surely his eye half closed in a quick and intimate wink as he added, ‘I'll water down the invitation, don't worry.'

‘I always mean what I say. Now I must get on with the work I'd promised myself I'd do trying to turn this into something like a garden.' She heard her words as rude and unattractive. He must be laughing at her, seeing her as socially inept; she wanted him gone.

‘Then the invitation shall be passed to her verbatim. Until next time …' He held out his hand and she felt hers taken in a firm grasp. And then he was gone.

Somehow the garden had lost its appeal, the wheelbarrow standing empty waiting to be filled with weeds from the ‘would-be' lawn. She carried the tray indoors and rinsed the cups, dried them and put them away, as if that way she could wipe out the last hour. It was ridiculous to let it upset her, but she found it impossible to go back outside and re-kindle the delight she had felt first thing that morning as she'd collected her tools. Through the weeks she had been at Lexleigh, the Miss Louisa Harding of old had almost faded out of existence. Her place had been taken by a new Louisa, a competent young woman with a ready smile and self-assurance which already had brought her work enough to build on. Her strength had always come from work and it was that to which she automatically turned on that Sunday morning. The wheelbarrow stood untouched as the hours went by. She made a sandwich and coffee for lunch and took it back into her workroom, priding herself that she had put the morning's visitor out of her mind. But, of course, had that been true, the thought wouldn't even have entered her head.

Her invitation for Bella to visit had been made in a moment of annoyance at Leo's assumption that he could organize his young wife's life without consulting her. In truth, she expected there would be far too much for her to do to come calling until her more pressing arrangements had been sorted out. So when at nearly nine o'clock on that same Sunday evening there was a knock at the front door, her first thought was that Harold Carter had escaped again. If a mood can be heard in the sound of footsteps, then whoever was waiting for the door to be opened must have felt unwelcome, a sentiment reinforced at the first sight of Louisa's expression.

‘Leo told me you said I could come, but I'll come tomorrow instead if you like.'

Louisa immediately felt guilty. ‘No, no need. I couldn't think who it could be; I thought you'd be much too busy to get away so soon.'

‘Leo said he and Dad would be OK. They can talk farm talk – they usually do from what I've heard, but it's so much better now they're actually here.'

Ushering Bella inside, Louisa was surprised to find herself pleased that the girl had come so soon. There was no logic in it; they could have nothing in common. That was her first thought, but hard on its heels came another. Yes, they had in common that they were both women. Hadn't she experienced more than enough herself of being made aware that in the business world men were superior? Wasn't that why she had been angry this morning on Bella's behalf?

‘Isn't it wonderful that Leo has decided to bring Dad home and us to stay with him? Driving here today he explained to me how your aunt used to be very friendly with his parents; he said that this house used to belong to the farm. Did you know that? Dad sold it to your aunt and, like I said, she was very friendly with them. It must have been so hard for him losing them both and having this place standing empty all those weeks.'

‘I expect it was,' Louisa answered, making sure her voice was casual. Clearly the perfect Leo hadn't related how his father had had to be dragged off her the previous night. ‘How about a drink? I think I have sherry or gin either with tonic or orange.'

‘Gosh, that sounds nice. I've not had gin and orange since New Year's Eve when Leo took me out and I think I got a bit tiddly.' She chuckled as she looked back on that night, the night that had changed her life. ‘Haven't I got huge since you saw me last?' She cradled her swollen tummy lovingly. ‘Less than two months to go.'

‘I suppose you were booked into a maternity nursing home or the hospital? You'll have to start all over again.'

But Bella seemed not a bit worried as with a laugh she said, ‘That's Leo for you. He'll drive me into town tomorrow and we'll go to the maternity place; I looked it up in the telephone book. Leo says that when I tell them I've only just arrived they'll book me in without any trouble. I just hope he's home when the baby starts because it's quite a long drive and I wouldn't like Dad to have to take me. He's got so confused, sometimes it's quite frightening. Mrs Johnson suggested I see the local doctor and arrange with the same midwife that quite a few women in the village have had. Then the baby could be born at Ridgeway; I like the thought of that.' She sipped her drink, looking a picture of contentment. ‘This is a nice drink; you've put a lot of orange in it to make sure I don't get tiddly. Pregnant ladies mustn't. I was saying about Dad, wasn't I? Leo told me when we were driving here about him calling on you last night.'

‘He told you?'

‘Oh, but you mustn't worry – he wouldn't dream of talking about it to anyone else. You can see how it is with Dad, though. He saw the light and I suppose forgot that your aunt had been run over. He must have been so glad to think he had an old friend to talk to. Don't you think sometimes how sad it must be to have no one around you sharing your memories, no one of the same age? I really don't want to live to be a hundred, do you?'

‘I don't know. If I were ninety-nine and healthy, I think I might.'

‘But all your friends would have gone.' Bella seemed genuinely concerned.

‘I've never had many friends.'

‘Snap! Neither have I. It really depends on your background, don't you think? My parents were killed in the war and I went to an orphanage. We were all in the same boat, but no one made special friends like you would if you had a home to invite them to. Like you did here, when you sent the message by Leo. I'm glad you've met him. Now you know why I fell in love with him. Would you think it an awful cheek if I called you by your Christian name?'

‘I hadn't realized that you didn't. I call you Bella.'

‘I can't. I don't know it. Leo referred to you as Miss Harding and I haven't called you that either.'

‘I'm Louisa.'

‘Louisa. That's a lovely name. It's a real responsibility to have to think of a name for a child. It would be easier if you could look into the future and know if it was to be clever or sporty or lazy or full of life and energy. Leo isn't lazy, you know, although David thinks he is. He never likes sitting around doing nothing. But it doesn't suit him to go every day to the works, even though quite often he has to go out and meet clients.' She chuckled and Louisa knew that she was imagining her beloved Leo making the most of wining or dining a client. ‘At Ridgeway there's plenty of space so he can take over a spare room and have his drawing desk and stool brought over from the works.'

‘Surely he can't keep designing new implements. A plough is a plough, a potato digger a potato digger.'

‘You'd be surprised at the clever things he draws: better fittings to attach to the tractor, small tools too. I'm sure the success of Carters' is mainly due to
him
.'

Never had Louisa heard such hero-worship. She hoped Bella would soon suggest it was time for her to go home. The obvious thing would be to say she was tired and had promised herself an early night but, even as the thought tempted her, it was immediately crushed by another – that this childlike soon-to-be-mother hadn't an unkind thought in her head. At the first sign that Louisa was bored she would have stood up ready to leave, feeling hurt and embarrassed; to do that to her was impossible. So Bella chattered on, satisfied with no more than the occasional comment from Louisa to prove she was awake and listening.

That was the first of many visits through the next days, some no more than a quick enquiry to see if Louisa was needing anything from the village shop or, better still, if they could walk there together; sometimes with time to spare and an offer to help in the garden, polish the car, dry the dishes or share any job Louisa was doing. If Bella found out her new friend was about to drive into town to collect or return work there was nothing she liked better than to go with her. Of course, that meant phoning the house first to make sure Leo would keep an eye on his father.

About four weeks before the date the baby was expected, Bella arrived just as Louisa was disconnecting the garden hose from the kitchen tap.

‘You look shattered,' was Louisa's greeting, a tactless one to a girl who was already feeling clumsy and unattractive. ‘You'll find a cold drink in the fridge. Sort yourself out while I put the hose away.'

‘I expect it's because I've been hurrying. Leo's driven to Oxford to see an agent of Carters'. Usually I'm stuck when Leo is away but this afternoon Mrs Johnson has come in to give the kitchen a thorough “scrub-up” as she calls it and she suggested I come out if I wanted to. While she's there Dad will be fine. She chats away to him and he forgets to be scared. I'm sure that's what's wrong with him. He's such a dear and I know he can't help being like he is, but this morning wherever I went he followed. He knows he's muddled and he's frightened. Well, we all would be, wouldn't we, if we knew we weren't thinking straight. This lemonade is gorgeous. It's so sticky hot today. Shall I pour a glass for you?'

‘No. I'm just going to put the hose away and then have a very quick tub. I was hedge cutting before I watered. From the look of the sky I think I wasted my time, it's getting very black – and, hark, isn't that distant thunder?'

‘Oh, I do hope we shan't get a storm. I can't bear thunderstorms; they make me feel really ill – and it's no good telling me there's nothing to be frightened of because it's not that sort of fright. They're so – so sort of … against nature.' Bella clamped her bottom lip with her top teeth and cradled her ‘bump' as if she were protecting it from some evil spirit.

‘That's one thing they're
not
,' Louisa replied. ‘They're nature at its mightiest. I'll just go and put this hose away.'

The wind had been gaining force while she'd been watering, but she wasn't prepared for the sudden gust that slammed the door of the shed wide open and sent the branches of the trees into a frenzied dance. In the same second the rain started, large drops bouncing on the tarmac of the lane, then lightning and a clap of thunder getting nearer. She hung the wound hose on its hook in the shed and, despite the wind, closed and locked the door before running back across the slightly improved grass to the back door of the house.

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