Larkrigg Fell (3 page)

Mind you, this had been a particularly trying day. Two and a half hour’s queuing in the Social Security office, an hour’s grilling in a pea-green cell by a fish-faced official. Her bank accounts, or lack of them, tutted over, her sex life investigated in excruciating detail. Guilt and humiliation heaped upon her by the spadeful, as if it had been she who’d walked out, or rather driven off, with the TV, stereo, and most of the furniture and not that useless lump, Paul, her unbeloved husband.

They must have set off up to the house, she decided. Where else could they be? If she hurried, she might catch them before they’d gone too far. Tessa glanced up at the sky. ‘Or before that ominous grey cloud empties itself of rain.’ You couldn’t rely on anything. Not husbands, not visitors, not even the weather.

With a heavy sigh she rammed the two suitcases into the small storm porch and flung everything else beside James in the back seat, the small boot already being full to bursting. He beamed at her and offered a button in a chocolate-smeared fist. Tessa declined and scrambling back into the driving seat, crashed every gear as she tore off up a bumpy track, cursing every time she had to climb out to open or shut a gate. She’d better find them soon or Meg would have her guts for garters.

‘I love it here already, don’t you?’ Beth said, as they strode out across the heaf. ‘I feel as if I’ve come home.’

‘It’s that deja vu thing.’

‘No, it’s more than that.’ She felt at peace for the first time in weeks. ‘It’s more spiritual. I feel as if I belong here. Don’t you?’

Sarah made a rude sound in her throat.

They came to a pair of standing stones some short distance from the main drive which wound onward up to the house. Beth was instantly intrigued. ‘I wonder what those are meant to be? They’re huge, yet appear to have been placed here deliberately. Who could have had the strength? Remains of a stone circle, do you think?

Sarah wasn’t listening. She had pushed open the huge wooden gate that hung on a pair of limestone posts. It gave off a loud creak and she couldn’t help but giggle. ‘It’s like something out of a Hammer Horror movie. Hardly your rural idyll. Decaying old mausoleum, more like.’

‘Oh, no. It’s lovely.’ One fat drop of rain fell on to Beth’s nose but she didn’t notice. She was too enchanted with the bewitching scenery, and with the anticipation of seeing at last the house of her dreams. It formed a dark, intriguing shadow at the end of the long drive. Large, rectangular and grey-stoned, its tall narrow windows blank, just inviting her to peer within. Again she shivered and crossed her fingers behind her back. Let it be lovely, she begged, nudging aside small misgivings, or her precious dreams would be over before they’d hardly begun.

Sarah simply scowled, wishing herself anywhere but here in damp Lakeland.

The sound of a car tearing up the track behind them caught their attention just as they were about to start the trek up the drive. It lurched to a halt beside them, a window was wound down and a tousled blonde head popped out. ‘You won’t be able to get in. All doors and windows are locked and shuttered. You couldn’t see a thing.’

Both twins turned to stare at this person who had so unexpectedly appeared out of nowhere and seemed to know exactly where they were going. She was now climbing out of a filthy yellow mini, the bonnet of which was decorated with the painting of a huge golden eagle with outspread wings. Beth stared at it, highly impressed. ‘Did you do that?’

Tessa nodded, grinning as if they were old friends. ‘Hobby of mine. Sorry I missed you at the station. Your taxi was just leaving as I drove in.’

‘Par for the course,’ Sarah said, rather sourly. ‘It’s been that sort of day.’

The new arrival pretended not to have heard this cutting remark. Dressed in blue tank top and flared trousers she introduced herself and James.

The two girls smiled uncertainly at the baby, now barely discernible beneath a coating of chocolate, then Sarah asked, ‘You wouldn’t have a key, I suppose?’

Tessa shook her head. ‘Meg probably has.’

‘But she isn’t in,’ Sarah tartly replied. ‘That’s why we came up here. We were bored stiff with waiting. And cold. Hardly the best welcome, I can tell you.’

Tessa flushed and looked embarrassed. ‘Don’t blame Meg for that. I offered to fetch you because she had a meeting she couldn’t cancel, only I got held up. Sorry.’

‘That’s OK,’ Beth said, before Sarah had chance to make any more rude remarks. ‘We’ll see inside Larkrigg Hall some other time. We were simply amusing ourselves. It’s all so wonderful, isn’t it?’ The wind tossed a spray of raindrops in her face but she wiped them away with the flat of her hand and returned the slide to her wayward hair. ‘We’ve quite fallen in love with the place already.’

Tessa raised arched brows right up into her straggly fringe. ‘You’ve hardly clapped eyes on it yet. It’s a mess inside, or so I’m told.’

‘She’s a romantic and falls in love very easily,’ Sarah explained, casting her sister a scathing glance. ‘I, on the other hand, am far more level-headed.’

Tessa gave her an assessing look. ‘I can imagine.’ Then a roguish smile. ‘You both look like something the cat’s dragged in, if you don’t mind my saying so? Probably because it’s raining and you’re both getting soaked. Come on. Pile in.’

‘Agreed. Curiosity can wait.’ Sarah sounded highly relieved. Anywhere which could offer a hot cup of coffee and a spot of dry comfort was fine by her.

‘Is Meg OK?’ Beth asked, as she lifted bags and boxes so she could squeeze herself into the back seat beside the beaming James. She let him tug at her hair with his sticky fingers and grinned back at him. ‘Fine, some problem with the sheep no doubt. Nothing, but nothing, comes before her stock.’

‘So it would appear,’ said Sarah darkly.

As the mini bounced off down the rutted drive a shutter moved at a window in the house behind them. But they were all so busy chattering, none of them noticed.

Chapter Two

Tessa pushed open the door, baby James propped on one hip, and led the two girls into Broombank’s big warm kitchen. A hen followed her in and she tossed it a piece of bread and butter pudding from a dish on the sink. It scurried off as if it had been given a rare treat.

‘Bit of a mess I’m afraid.’ Tessa sighed, and with one hand filled a kettle at the low stone sink, plugged it in and flicked the switch. ‘It’s my job to wash up, in return for room and board, but I forgot this morning. One of the peasants, that’s me,’ she said. ‘Tea?’

‘Lovely,’ Beth said, while Sarah suffered a desperate longing for a decent cup of coffee but was so busy wondering what this odd girl was doing here, that for once she held back.

Tessa lay the patient James flat on his back on the kitchen table, stripped off his dripping pants then rubbed his nose affectionately with her own. ‘Potty time, cherub.’ She placed the baby on his potty then poured some fruit juice into a feeding cup and gave it to him. James hooked chubby fingers round the two handles and brought the spout straight to his mouth. He started to suck with loud appreciation.

‘That’ll keep him occupied for a while, with more hope than anticipation of a performance, I have to say. Potty training is the very devil. So, you liked Larkrigg Hall then?’

‘Didn’t catch more than a glimpse but it looks intriguing,’ Beth agreed, fascinated by the girl who moved about the large untidy kitchen finding mugs, milk, a tin of biscuits, stepping adroitly over her son as he motored about the floor.

She was frowning. ‘It’s a bit neglected. Nobody’s lived in it for years. Sad waste really but your mother apparently didn’t like it and refused to have anything to do with it. Wouldn’t even bother to let it.’

Tessa abandoned the idea of washing three of the mugs in the already full sink and selected clean china cups and saucers from a pine dresser, every inch of which seemed stuffed with a variety of pretty flowered china that had seen better days. Stacks of papers, leaflets and letters were crammed in the gaps between. ‘Make yourselves at home.’

She placed the cups on a tin tray that said: ‘Young Farmers Do It Best’ and added a sugar bowl and milk jug that did not match the cups or each other. ‘Meg and Tam will be back soon. They had some errands in town, including the bank manager, I believe.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘Meg has her hands full, as usual.’

‘Clearly,’ Sarah said, not troubling to hide the coolness in her tone.

Embarrassment coloured Tessa’s cheeks. ‘You can blame bureaucracy for my inadequacy this morning.’ She was pouring boiling water into a large brown teapot with a chipped spout. ‘Single parent. Unemployed. One of the rural poor seeking a handout from the state. Deserted wife and all that.’

‘Oh,’ said Beth, her caring nature at once warming to the girl. ‘That’s even worse than…’ Then stopped, blushing furiously. ‘I-I’m sorry. I’d no right to ... I mean...’

Tessa looked puzzled and Sarah calmly explained. ‘My sister means that she’s recently suffered a similar fate, only the knot hadn’t quite been tied.’

‘You had a lucky escape then,’ Tessa said and as Sarah calmly agreed, Beth blinked. She’d never thought to look at it in quite that way.

‘So you got a handout from Meg,’ Sarah was saying.

‘True,’ Tessa frankly agreed. ‘I’m one of her lame ducks. Your long suffering grandmother is forever rushed off her feet yet still finds it in her heart to take me under her wing. I was grateful since hubby pretty well cleaned me out.’

‘How very fortunate for you.’

‘Yes,’ Tessa readily agreed, soberly meeting Sarah’s gaze. ‘It is.’ James stood up, a red ring round his small plump bottom. ‘Wee wee,’ he announced, showing two teeth as he grinned with pleasure. Tessa looked in the plastic potty and squealed with delight. There then followed such a celebration that soon all three girls and baby joined in with great hilarity and the tension in the room slackened. The tea was quite forgotten while a clean nappy was fitted and the beaming James firmly strapped into his high chair.

‘Shall I pour?’ Beth offered, when they’d got their giggles under control and the potty had been rinsed in the cloakroom.

‘Sorry, yes. If you don’t mind.’ Tessa started to mix a glutinous mess that might have been porridge had it not been bright orange. Tessa caught her eye and laughed. ‘Orange and apricot pudding. His favourite.’

Beth handed round the cups then set about clearing the stack of dishes in the sink.

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Tessa half-heartedly protested.

‘I want to. I like to help. Sarah can dry.’ Beth cast her sister a glance which was steadfastly ignored while Tessa spooned food into the baby’s mouth.

‘Is Meg keen on gardening?’ Sarah coolly enquired, staring at a few withered brown leaves from a tradescantia that littered the carpet.

‘Hates it. No time, she says. She’s usually with her blessed sheep, or at some farming or local event or other, Tam along with her. They’re very busy people’ .

‘And what do you do, besides not wash up?’

Tessa grinned good-naturedly as she scooped more glutinous pudding into the baby’s mouth. ‘When I’m not with this tyke here, you’ll find me in an old shed I dare to call a studio, attempting to paint pictures, or do sculptures, or whatever my latest fad happens to be.’

‘How terribly artistic of you. No other form of employment?’ The two girls’ eyes met and held.

‘Not at the moment,’ Tessa agreed. ‘No other visible means of support.’

‘How fortuitous that Meg is so generous then.’

‘You must be awfully clever,’ Beth butted in, hastening to soothe the bristling atmosphere, and Tessa laughed.

‘Don’t ever say that. I’m not clever at all. One of life’s dabblers, that’s me.’

‘Oh, I’d love to be able to draw.’

‘Drawing is only a part of it. It’s paint that’s the tricky medium. I love pastels myself.’

As the two chatted on about art and pottery, Sarah set aside the cup with its tea that tasted of perfume and looked about her with open distaste. She’d never seen a room quite as messy as this one. Piles of dirty crocks, a tiled floor smeared with remnants of mud, and walls which probably hadn’t seen a lick of paint in a decade. Undoubtedly some might say it exuded comfort with its bunches of drying herbs, pretty dresser, and winking copperware in the wide inglenook. But one chair was covered in an old sheepskin rug and another seemed full of dog hairs. She turned up her nose and took care where she sat.

‘Are these your efforts?’ A bright abstract on the wall, a pencil drawing of a naked man and a bronze sculpture of an owl propping open a door which presumably led into the living room.

‘Do you approve?’

‘I know nothing of art.’ Sarah turned away, her body language clearly adding that she had no wish to learn, and pointedly studied the most notable feature of the room. One wall crowded with photographs of sheep and dogs, rosettes and certificates that filled every inch of space.

‘You seem to have landed on your feet here.’ There was an open challenge in the blunt statement but Tessa only half glanced at her as she dealt with the baby, laughing all the while.

‘I don’t deny it.’

Since she offered no further defence, there seemed nothing more to say on the subject, so Sarah sat down on a hard wooden chair while Beth politely enquired where Tessa had lived when she was married.