Never Too Late (41 page)

Since visiting the Suffolk Punch Trust they also had an option on a pair of horses that were already trained to harness. Their arguments in favour of being granted planning permission now also included using the heavy horses instead of diesel fuelled machinery. They had been fascinated by what they saw at the Trust and knew the horses would be a real asset to their enterprise. It seemed apt that they would supply a restaurant called Tread Lightly with the help of such gentle animals that trod lightly on the earth.

Maggie threw Deefor’s red ball and smiled as he ran to get it. The weather had turned the previous night and it was now very obviously early autumn rather than summer. It had rained heavily enough to wake her in the night. A chilly wind was now whisking low grey cloud across the sky. She glanced up at the swaying branches, rattling their leaves in a demented dance. They had lost the summer dustiness but their new washed vibrancy would soon become autumnal brittleness.

The passing of summer didn’t depress Maggie at all. Every season had its merits in her book. Soon her Michaelmas daisies would be attracting the butterflies and the late flowering chrysanthemums would take over from the dahlias in providing colour and variety. She loved the bright hues of autumn leaves and berries almost as much as the bright colours of summer flowers in her garden. She wondered what Deefor’s reaction would be to her kicking through the piles of fallen leaves, as she loved to do every year.

Deefor was more comfortable now, obviously enjoying having the energy to run about again. He had slunk from one patch of shade to another while the sun blazed down, dreadfully hot in his thick fur coat. His favourite position for weeks had been stretched out on the cool kitchen tiles. It was hardly surprising he’d felt so lethargic, Maggie thought, as he was now in his fifties in human year equivalence. She threw the ball one last time before heading back towards the house.

Back at the stepping stones Maggie did not notice quite how swollen the stream had become, the water occasionally swirling turgidly right over the stones. As she stepped out onto the stones she turned to call Deefor back from his foray into the woods. The twisting motion was her undoing and her foot slipped off the rock. Her arms flailed madly as she tried to regain her balance but she fell heavily and blackness descended when her head struck a rock. She lay there, face down in the water, unmoving. Deefor rushed to her and tried to nudge a reaction from her. He whined and licked her frantically but got no response. He grasped the neck of her jacket and raised her head out of the water but her body was limp, lifeless. Digging in with all four paws he leaned backwards and with short sharp jerks pulled her head clear of the stream. Still she didn’t move. He licked her face again, then turned and ran up the path.

He made it back to the house in record time, heading straight for the kitchen door. He’d worked out a long time back how to rest a paw on the handle to open it. His feet skittered madly across the tiles as he went in search of Iain. He found him in the study and bounded over, grabbed Iain’s trouser leg in his mouth and pulled as hard as he could.

“Get off me you stupid hound,” Iain yelled, hitting Deefor across the side of the head. “Maggie, call him off! He’s attacking me!”

Deefor retreated a few steps, whining and looking repeatedly over his shoulder.

“Maggie, if he’s getting vicious he’ll have to go.” His shouts got no response. Deefor started taking half steps back and for, whining and barking. “Maggie? Where are you?”

Iain got up and Deefor barked once more before heading to the door. He stopped there, looking back at Iain. Iain decided to go and have words with Maggie. Deefor barked again and went through the hallway towards the kitchen. There he stopped and barked again, waiting for Iain. Iain followed, and was surprised both to find that Maggie wasn’t there and that the kitchen door was wide open, letting in the wind and a fresh squall of rain.

“What the heck’s going on?”

Deefor barked again as he headed out of the door.

“For goodness’ sake,” he grumbled. “This is turning into a Lassie episode, good guy gets hurt, dog goes for help.” He paled suddenly as he realised that may just be what Deefor was doing. Was Maggie hurt? He didn’t pause to get a coat but ran out after Deefor as best he could, praying Maggie was OK.

When they got to the stream Maggie was still unconscious. Iain feared the worst but she moaned as he turned her over. With tears of relief that she wasn’t dead streaming down his face, Iain struggled to pull her clear of the water. “Hang in there, Maggie,” he pleaded. “Don’t leave me, not now.”

He cursed as his wet hand stuck to the lining of his trouser pocket, ripping it open in his anxiety to get his phone out. His 999 call was answered promptly and the operator kept on the line, talking him through things to check, keeping him calm and passing on instructions to the ambulance crew about how to find them in the big garden. It felt like an eternity to him.

“Mr McTavish?”

Iain looked up to see the two crew with a stretcher and his face crumpled. “Thank God you’re here” he sobbed. He covered his eyes as his shoulders shook with racking sobs. One of the crew gently took his phone and signed off with the operator before closing the phone and giving it back to Iain.

“Don’t let her die! Please don’t let her die!”

“Don’t worry Mr McTavish, Colin and I don’t let our patients off that easily.”

The other crew member had been busy checking Maggie’s condition, and reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “It’s OK, Mr McTavish. It looks like it’s just a nasty bump on the head, nothing broken. She’s coming round a bit already. Come on Si,” he continued, “let’s get her in for a full check.”

“What’s your wife’s first name Mr McTavish?” Simon asked.

“Maggie, her name’s Maggie.”

“Maggie,” Simon called to her. “Can you hear me Maggie? Looking at those drag marks up the bank I reckon your dog did a herculean job pulling you out of the water, so now it’s your turn to do your bit for him. Come on now. Open your eyes for me Maggie.”

He lifted each lid in turn and shone a torch, watching that the pupils reacted equally. “We’re just going to lift you onto the stretcher and take you into hospital for a wee check-up. OK Maggie? Everything’s going to be fine.”

He carried on talking while they carried her to the ambulance. Iain and Deefor followed.

“Sorry boy,” Iain apologised to Deefor as he shut him in the kitchen, “you can’t come on this journey, but I owe you one.”

Iain needed assistance into the ambulance. His whole body was reacting to the emotion as well as the physical effort his partially healed body had not been prepared for.

On the way to the hospital Maggie regained consciousness but was confused and had a splitting headache. Simon suggested Iain arrange with someone to bring some night things for Maggie and transport back for himself.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s absolutely fine. It’s routine after being knocked unconscious, though, to be kept in overnight for observation. Just in case of complications.”

Maggie was taken through almost at once for examination by the A&E doctor. His assessment was the same as Colin’s – a nasty bump but nothing broken, no long term damage. It didn’t take long before Maggie was tucked up in bed on the ward. A painkiller was easing the headache and a sedative helped her sleep.

“The best medicine of all,” the nurse reassured Iain. “Sleep, you can’t beat it. And it looks to me like you could do with a lie down too. Is there someone here to take you home? Do you need us to call anyone?”

“My neighbour, Angela, is on her way, thanks,” Iain told her. “Can I just sit with her for a while?” he pleaded.

The nurse squeezed his arm sympathetically and smiled. “Just until Angela gets here then. It’s a nasty shock for you I know, but believe me, she’ll likely be as right as rain tomorrow, wondering what all the fuss was about.”

Iain nodded and sat down stiffly in the hard plastic chair next to Maggie’s bed. He took her hand and gently stroked it, thinking about what the consequences might have been without Deefor.

Angela had swung into action smoothly. Raising children prepared you well for coping with bumps, scrapes, falls and other medical emergencies. She and Maggie had been in the habit of holding a key for each other’s houses since the children were young, not that she needed a key this time. Iain had forgotten to lock up in his panic to get to the hospital. Deefor whined, obviously anxious, when she let herself in. She paused long enough to give him a reassuring pet,  then went upstairs to gather Maggie’s bathroom gear, a nightie, dressing gown and (fingers crossed), a set of clean clothes for coming home in the morning. She popped them into an overnight bag she found in one of the cupboards then set off for the hospital.

She found the correct ward without problem and paused for a moment at the swing doors, watching Iain through the circular glass. He had obviously been in a blind panic when he phoned her, and there was so much love for Maggie evident in posture, his whole body yearning towards her. She still could not understand why he had cheated on Maggie repeatedly for so many years. She and Oliver had had their ups and downs during their marriage, and many a blazing row come to that, but eventually they kissed and made up, and continued to muddle through together.

Was that the problem, she wondered? Maggie did tend to bottle things up. She’d never known her row with anyone. She had always seemed happy and content on the surface, but what had she really been thinking and feeling all this time? And did the lack of any heart to hearts between them mean they weren’t really such good friends as she had thought? No, she pulled herself up sharply. Maggie had always been an absolute rock in her life. Even if she hadn’t felt able to confide her deepest worries, she had always been ready with a sympathetic ear, as much time as needed, plenty of tea and any other practical help that was needed. Just because Maggie was a very private person didn’t mean she wasn’t a true friend too.

She pushed open the door and went over to Iain, laying her hand on his shoulder in mute support.

“How is she?” she asked softly.

“Just sleeping now,” Iain told her. “They sedated her so she’d get a good long sleep before I collect her tomorrow.”

“Well don’t go getting a taxi. I’ll bring you over, no problem.”

Angela put Maggie’s things neatly in the locker and then told Iain it was time to go home. Luckily the ward Sister was very firm on that point as she didn’t think she’d have managed to drag Iain from Maggie’s side by herself.

*

On the smallholding, James and Keela were putting in every hour they could, preparing the base structure of their enterprise. They had decided to gamble on permission for change of use being granted and make the most of the fine early autumn evenings. While skilled workmen were on hand renovating the house they had had an acre of land closest to the house walled to provide protection for the more tender plants they intended to grow. Three sows and their piglets, twenty one in all, were busy rootling up all the weeds. They were very pleased they had followed Ken’s suggestion as the pigs were doing a marvellous job of clearing out roots and all, plus the piglets were fattening up nicely and would help pay for the wall.

Keela’s plan for the walled garden included raised beds to reduce the strain on their backs from continual planting, weeding and sowing. Richard had been sending over lorry loads of reclaimed timber from various demolition jobs which would do for both the beds and fruit cages.

Now that the new mortar had set, on each of the sun warmed walls they were putting up rough trellising for fruit. They would have espalier apples and pears, which would need planting in December or January. They were still hotly debating which varieties they should order. James was in favour of James Grieve (naturally!) as it was an excellent cooking apple in September and sweetened to a delicious dessert apple in October, plus Lord Lambourne, one of the earliest scented dessert apples. Keela fancied the early eighteenth century, richly aromatic Ashmead Kernel, Lord Burghley, as the delicious and attractive apples would keep well until April, and Blenheim Orange for its outstanding qualities when cooking. They were also investigating if it would be feasible to fan train morello cherries, plums, peaches, nectarines and apricots. It was when they actually blocked out on the plans the areas needed for their various fruits, vegetables and herbs that they decided it would be wise to wall an adjacent acre. It would be expensive, but they were investing for themselves and generations to come. They thought fondly of the Victorian walled kitchen gardens they had visited and hoped their legacy would last through the years as well.

As the twilight deepened Keela paused to pull out a large splinter from her finger. James stopped work too and went over to her, pulling her into his arms. They stood there, rocking gently as he kissed her hair.

“Happy, Blackbird?”

She looked up at him at smiled. “Oh yes. Knackered, but very, very happy. It’s going to take lots of hard work and every penny we’ve got, and then some, but every day is a blessing now. Why did we wait so long?”

“To earn enough to be able to make a start on a project like this? And we still wouldn’t have been able to do it without Mum and Dad’s help.”

“Ever the pragmatist!” She laughed, pulling him to her and rubbing noses. “But a romantic too. Only dyed in the wool romantics would believe they could pull this off.”

“Oh, we’ll pull it off all right, if only because we’re both too stubborn to admit defeat.”

Keela stretched her arms up above her head and yawned luxuriously. “Time to knock off for today, though. Let’s go and clean up and eat some more of Maggie’s wonderful food. All this fresh air has me absolutely ravenous lately.”

When they arrived they found Maggie finishing the twice baked potatoes which she would be serving with a tuna casserole. James went over and gave her a quick hug.

“My goodness, you stink of pigs and sweat!” she exclaimed. “Both of you, get yourselves up for a shower and change of clothes. You’ve got half an hour before this is ready.”