The Journey (26 page)

Leonard knew only too well that buyers’ ambitions were always dictated by the amount of capital they could raise. He thought of his own circumstances. If he had been able to pay off his grandfather’s debts without selling his own land, he would not be in this office today.

“Sometimes, for whatever reason, a man may have more need of a smaller parcel of land,” the agent went on. “But this can work well in our favor.”

He explained. “We could sell off say, three hundred acres either in a single lot, or if you preferred, we could separate it into smaller units. That would leave one hundred acres with the house—which is a small farm in itself. This way, the sale will attract more money, or at the very least it will create competition, which will return a far more handsome price than if we went straight to the gentleman in question and sold him the entire holding.”

Leonard liked the idea. “Let them fight it out between them—is that what you’re saying?”

The Land Agent’s smile was positively wicked. “Of course, let them fight it out. And why not?”

So they got down to facts and figures, and when the meeting was over, Leonard dared to hope that if all went well, he might even be able to pay the U.S. creditors every single dollar they were owed.

With that in mind, he got back into his car and drove straight to Overhill Farm, where he found Joanne standing on a box, singing to herself and cleaning the kitchen windows. When he saw her, he slowed down, his mood brightening even further at the sight of the small, familiar figure, her long silken hair gently lifted by the cool breeze. And now as she stretched on tiptoe to reach the upper part of the panes, his eyes were drawn to her slim, shapely ankles and calves. “You’ve a lucky man, Barney Davidson,” he whispered, and now, as she turned to look straight at him, his heart did a dance inside his chest so he could hardly breathe.

“Morning, Joanne.” His voice gave nothing away as he climbed out of the car and went toward her. “I wonder if I might have a word with Barney. Is he around?”

“Sorry, Mr. Maitland, he’s out in Top Field,” she said, preparing to clamber off the box. She was taken by surprise when Leonard reached his hands round her waist and lifted her down without effort. “He’s checking the sheep,” she said, her face flushing pink. “I can fetch him if you like?”

“No, it’s all right,” Leonard said. “Best not disturb him at his work. What I have to say can wait until this evening.”

“Are you sure? It won’t take above five minutes for me to fetch him. I can settle you with a cup of tea before I go?” Joanne’s curiosity was heightened; it wasn’t often the boss came down here to talk in the middle of the day.

“No, no,” he told her. “It’s fine. But will you please tell him I called by, and that I have business to discuss with him.” He paused, not wanting to alarm her. “If you wouldn’t mind, Joanne, I’d like you to be there as well. In fact, what I have to say might concern all of you.”

Seeing her expression of concern, he quickly added, “I’d rather not discuss it now, but I’ll be here at about eight. Will you have finished your evening meal by then?”

“Well, yes, but—what is it, Mr. Maitland? What’s wrong? It all seems very serious.”

“You’re not to worry,” he said gently. “We’ll talk this evening, then. Goodbye for now.” Quickly, before she could ask any more questions, he climbed into the car and drove off, leaving Joanne in a quandary.

“Is everything all right?” Lucy had seen Leonard leave and now, with Joanne seeming deep in thought, her happy singing silenced and the window-cloth hanging forgotten in her hand, she grew alarmed.

“He told me not to worry,” Joanne answered, “but it’s odd all the same.” She raised her gaze to Lucy. “Mr. Maitland says he has business to discuss with me and Barney.” Picking up her bucket she dumped the cloth in it and walked to the kitchen door. “It all seems very serious to me,” she told Lucy. “He’s coming back tonight, after we’ve had our supper.”

“Crikey!” Lucy had become as close to this family as if she was born to it, and what affected them, was bound to affect her. “What d’you reckon it could be, to fetch him out here at this time of day? And you say he’s coming back again tonight …”

There was something not right here, Lucy thought. Something was brewing and like Joanne she, too, was afraid.

Her friend began pacing the kitchen floor. “I’m not sure what to do, Lucy,” she said. “Should I go and tell Barney now, or should I simply get on with my work and tell him when he comes home?”

“Do you want my opinion?” Lucy asked.

“Of course!”

“Do what you just said—wait till Barney gets home. Let’s have a cup of tea and a sandwich like we allus do at this time of day, then we’ll get on with our work and leave Barney to do the same. Tell him tonight, but not until after he’s had his dinner, because if you tell him before, he’ll be so worried he won’t eat.”

“You’re right, lass,” Joanne agreed. “That’s what we’ll do.”

While Lucy went to fetch Jamie from his nap, Joanne put the kettle on. Dear God, was there some sort of trouble in store? Just now, when everything was going so well, she prayed their lives were not about to be disrupted.

In the sitting room, where Lucy was lifting the child from the pram, she had that same sense of dread. “Mr. Maitland’s been here,” she told little Jamie. “It seems he’s got business to discuss with Barney and Joanne. I can’t imagine what it could be, but it’s important enough for him to come back and talk with them tonight.” She tutted. “I just hope it isn’t bad news.”

She kissed his head and sat him on the little enamel potty for a minute or two chiding herself for thinking the worst. For all she knew, it might even be good news. And keeping that in mind, she took the little boy to join Joanne, who was just laying the table for the three of them.

As she dragged the high chair across to the table, Lucy commented, “Happen Mr. Maitland is right and you shouldn’t worry. I mean, it might be good news he’s bringing tonight. There’s no reason why it should be anything bad, is there?”

“No, there isn’t!” Joanne’s face lit in a smile. “You could be right, lass—it might be good news.” The woman was glad of Lucy’s encouraging words. “It could be something to do with buying another tractor, mebbe, or he might even be sending in the workmen to put a new roof on this place. Lord knows, it’s been leaking long enough.” She gave a comical little laugh. “Barney’s repaired it so many times it’s beginning to look like a patchwork quilt.”

Going off to the scullery, she reappeared with a tray containing a pot of tea and four chunky ham and chutney sandwiches, together with a dish of soup for the child and an apple.

Joanne took a hearty bite out of her egg and onion sandwich. She chatted and laughed with the little boy and his mother, but all the while at the back of her mind was Leonard’s visit.

Lucy liked to think the best.

Joanne thought the worst.

She also thought of that unexpected moment when their employer had put his hands round her waist and lifted her effortlessly to the ground … “Leonard Maitland is a kind man,” she told Lucy now, unable to leave the subject for long. “I can’t imagine he’s about to bring us bad news.”

“Huh!” Lucy spooned a helping of soup into her son’s mouth. “It’s that woman he’s chosen to be his wife who’s the bad news. The poor man came all the way back from his long journey, and there wasn’t anyone with him. Don’t you think she should have met him off his ship? No, if you ask me, he’ll have a life of hell if he ever puts a ring on that one’s finger.”

“I hope not,” Joanne answered quietly. “He’s such a lovely man, he deserves a good marriage.”

“Like you and your Barney,” Lucy said. “But not every marriage can be as good as yours, you know.”

“I’ve been fortunate,” Joanne said wistfully. “Oh Lucy, I love him so much! I don’t know what I’d do without him. God did a wonderful thing, when He brought me and my Barney together.”

Not for the first time, Lucy wondered if she would ever know that same kind of love. “I wonder what Frank Trent is doing now?” she said.

“Do you care?” Joanne was surprised to hear the girl mention that man’s name.

Lucy shook her head. “No. To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I could ever have thought I loved him in the first place.”

“Well, at least he gave you little Jamie.” Joanne had come to love the child as if he was her own.

Lucy gazed fondly at her son. “I know it’s a sad thing to say, but I hope he grows up, never knowing his father.”

Joanne saw the bitterness in Lucy’s face and deliberately changed the subject. “Uh-oh—look at the time,” she said. “Let’s finish the chores, and after that, you and young James should get yourselves home before it starts getting dark. Besides, you must be bone-tired. What with cleaning all the upstairs windows and changing every bed in the house, you’ve done two days’ work in one. I honestly don’t know how I ever managed before you came to join us. Thank you, love.”

“Are you sure?” It was true—Lucy
was
exhausted and there was nothing she wanted more right now than to go home for a well-earned rest. However, seeing how worried Joanne was, she offered, “I don’t mind staying to help prepare the evening meal. I’m sure Barney or one of the boys would run me home.”

Joanne shook her head. “Don’t think I’m not grateful,” she told Lucy, “but I’m best off working. By the time I’ve got the supper ready, Barney should be home. Soonever he’s eaten, I’ll tell him how Mr. Maitland’s coming by to visit.”

As she helped clear away the crockery, she added, almost to herself, “I can’t wait to know what business he has that he couldn’t discuss with me—especially as he said he wants me there when he talks with Barney.”

A short time later, Lucy left, holding the little boy by his hand. It wasn’t far to walk back to the cottage. She often left the pram at Overhill Farm. “I hope everything goes all right,” she told Joanne. “If you need me, you know where I am.”

At eight-thirty, Mr. Maitland arrived. Welcoming him into the house, Barney took him straight through to the sitting room. “Joanne tells me that this matter you need to talk through might affect us all.”

“That’s right, Barney.” Leonard glanced round the room. “Your children not here then?”

Barney explained, “My sons have gone to meet friends in Liverpool and Susie is taking extra tuition on the hat-making. There is no need for them to be here. If you’re bringing bad news, it’s best that me and Joanne know first. That way we can talk to the young ’uns ourselves.”

“I understand.” Leonard had no way of knowing how all this might affect Barney’s children. Even if Barney accepted his offer, the children might not.

“You’d best sit down.” Barney gestured to the armchair, while he and Joanne sat side-by-side on the sofa. “I might tell you, I’ve been on pins since Joanne told me.”

Leonard sat down. He looked at the pair of them seated there, fine, kind-hearted people, hardworking as the day was long, and his heart sank within him. “I have to tell you both …” he began. Then: “This has not been the easiest day of my life.”

Barney looked him in the eye. “So, it
is
bad news then?”

“I suppose it all depends on how you see it.” Leonard chose his words carefully as he went on, “I’ve come here tonight, firstly to explain the outcome of my trip to Boston, and secondly, to ask something of you both.”

He took a deep invigorating breath. “What I have to tell you has been playing on my mind these past weeks. It will be a relief to have it out in the open. I’m not like you, Barney,” he said kindly. “I’ve always struggled to make friends.” He smiled shyly. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that you two are the nearest to friends that I’ve got. I have no family—no wife or children to talk things over with, so when I have problems, they often weigh heavy on my mind.”

When Barney seemed about to speak, he gestured for him to stop, “I don’t want you to say anything just yet, Barney. As you already know, I was summoned to Boston in order to learn the terms and conditions of my grandfather’s Will, and to tie up any loose ends out there.”

He looked away momentarily as though in shame, and went on in a low voice: “It was a great shock for me to learn that my grandfather had taken up gambling and was up to his neck in debt when he died, with all his land and properties on the point of being sold from under him.”

At the gasp of disbelief from Barney and Joanne, he got swiftly to the point. “It means two things,” he said, “and each of them will affect you and your family, in at least one way that I can see.”

He went on in great detail, telling them how it had all come about, how he had worked every waking moment to save what he could. There had been sacrifices made, and his own future, as well as theirs, was now hanging in the balance. “I’m sorry to tell you that I have no option but to sell both The Manse and Overhill Farm.” There was no other way to say it but straight out.

Rendered speechless by the news, Barney stood up and with haggard eyes, he looked first at Leonard, and then at Joanne. His face white as chalk, he reached out for his wife’s hand. Deeply concerned, she could only leave it to the men and hope they might salvage something worthwhile from this nightmare.

Leonard would have given almost anything to remove the look of devastation on Barney’s face. “If there had been any other way, you know I would have taken it,” he said helplessly, and wondered if there had been any kinder way he could have broken the news.