THE CINDER PATH (39 page)

swiftly about and just stopped himself from running by gripping the stanchion of the door, and as he leant against it for a moment the action pushed his hat on to one side and over one eye, and the detached part of his mind saw himself as a pantomime major, a drunken pantomime

major, for now he staggered somewhat as he walked

back into the yard.

Straightening his cap, he again looked about him, and

as his eyes came to rest on the back door a

strange fear assailed him as to what he might find

if he opened it, and he turned away from it and went

now into the barn. The bottom was swept almost clean,

a few implements only lay scattered around. He

raised his eyes to the upper platform. That too was

bare except for some broken bales of hay.

As if in a nightmare he was walking through the

alleyway, and now he was on the cinder path, at

least where it had been, for now a rough stone path led down to the cottage and the burn, the work of the German prisoners he supposed. He looked over the

hedge to the field where the hen crees stood.

The doors were swinging open, there was not a fowl to be seen. To the right lay the pigsties. No

echo of a grunt came from them.

He had to have support, so he leant back against

the wall of the byres and, his head drooping, he

looked down at his feet, and the slab of stone on which he was standing disappeared and he saw his feet were deep in the cinders, and there coming along the path, was a

red-headed youth, and when he stopped he grinned at

him and said, "You never thought you'd get a pip on your own, now did you, "cos as I said you're a born

loser. You lost the lass you loved, you married a

whore, you even lost yourself and your bloody platoon;

and now you've lost your farm. I always said you were a loser, didn't I? You've only got one more thing

to lose and when that bit of shrapnel moves ..."

He was brought from the wall as if he had been

shot. His hand flashed from his side where his holster used to lie, and now it was pointing at eye level straight

in front of him. He twisted round as if a hand had

spun him. His mouth was wide open, he was gasping for

air, his eyes were closed.

"Stop it!"

"Pull up!"

He was leaning against the wall again but bent over now and about to vomit.

He stood like this for some minutes before

straightening up, then, after wiping his mouth he went through the alleyway again and into the yard and walked towards the kitchen door. He put his hand on the knob and

pushed but it didn't give way. Angrily now,

he thrust his body against it but without effect; the door was firmly bolted on the inside. He knew that it

had strong bolts but he didn't remember them ever

having been used in his time.

He went to the kitchen window and peered in. His

hands to each side of his face, he gazed in

amazement at the bareness of it. Even the long white

wooden table was no longer there.

Like someone indeed drunk, he now made his way

to the front of the house, and it was the sitting-room

window he first looked through. The room was as bare as it had been when it was first constructed.

He was standing now gripping the knob of the front

door. He didn't expect the door to be

unlocked and it wasn't. Again he was leaning for

support, and now like a child he spoke

aloud, one single word "Why?" Then again, louder this time, "Why?"

And where was everybody? This great silence.

As a strange thought entered his mind his head fell

back on his shoulders and he looked up

into the sky. Was this death? Had he already died? Had his life ceased with the shock of Arthur's words? And was the farm really peopled? Was the farm still alive and it was only he who couldn't see it?

When he tore off his glove and brought his hand down

sharp on to one side of the ornamental spikes that

supported the foot scraper to the side of the door

he knew that he was still alive.

He was walking away from the house now towards the

cottages. He didn't hope to find anyone there,

yet as he rounded the bend and looked up the hill he

stopped in his tracks. There was smoke coming out of the chimney. Again he checked himself from, running, saying,

"Take it easy. Take it easy."

It was some minutes before his knock on the door was

answered, and when it was opened there stood Arnold in his bare feet, his linings showing under an old coat. The

old man's mouth opened wide, but nothing

came forth, until Charlie had stepped into the room

and the door was closed, and then he said, "My God!

sir, am ... am I glad to see you! Oh my

God! sir, I am, I am that at this minute."

It was plain to Charlie that the cowman was suffering from a severe cold and he said to him immediately, "Get...

get back into bed, Arnold." He pointed

to the bed that was drawn up to the side of the fire, but Arnold didn't immediately get back into bed, he

stared up into Charlie's face, and now, the tears

spurting from his eyes, he muttered, "God! sir,

I never thought I'd live to see the day, but. . . but

you're back, you're back. Sit down, sir, sit

down."

"You get back into bed, Arnold, I'll sit

down."

When Arnold had got into bed, Charlie took a

seat by the side of the fire and they sat looking at

each other for a moment before Charlie said, "What's happened, Arnold? I ... I thought the world had

stopped going mad when the war finished, but down

there"-he motioned towards the door-"I can't take it in. Where is she?"

"Gone, sir. And . . . and we never expected

to see you again, sir, at least"-he lowered his

eyes away-"we didn't at first. We did

everything she said, you see, because it was supposed to be authorized by you."

"The clearance of the farm?"

"Aye, sir, aye; she had a written

statement. She had been down to see you in the South and

. . . and when she came back she said you were

in a very bad state and would never work again, I mean, not even to manage. She said, well, sir, she sort

of gave us the idea that besides you being broken up in body your . . . your mind had gone, shellshock,

she said."

Charlie's head drooped on to his chest for a

moment and as a shiver ran through his body he held out his hands towards the blazing fire, and Arnold went

on, "Everybody around was sorry for her, so they

helped: Regan took most of the cattle, they

didn't go to market, the sheep did; but the pigs and

hens and the rest of the livestock, everybody around bought privately."

"The house?"

"Oh, the house. Every stick was carted away

to auction, and we, me and Mary, well, we took

everything, sort of as being your wish, until, well,

until she didn't talk of selling the farm itself, the

land. I asked her

about it and she said that would be seen to later. I know now she'd have to have gone to your solicitor, sir, and he

would have wanted your word for it and deeds and things. I guessed something was wrong before she left. I smelt

a rat, so did Mary, but it was all done so quickly,

like lightnin", so to speak. She had got every

animal off this farm within a week, and the furniture

was out of the house, well, within ten days. When I

asked her where she was going she said . . . she said she was going to take you to Australia as soon as you were

well enough. But somehow I didn't believe her;

neither did Mary. It was the way she went on like as

if she wasn't right in the head."

"Not right in the head?" It was a quiet question, but weighed with disbelief for he could never imagine anyone thinking that his level-headed little sister could do anything that would stamp her as not right in the head.

"Well, sir, one morning as Mary went in she

heard a banging, and there was Miss Betty standing

kicking the green-baized door, kicking it like mad

she was, Mary said, like someone demented. Anyway,

as I said, I smelt a rat and I went across

to Mrs Chapman, her being your mother-in-law like,

although I had heard rumours that you and your missis

weren't . . . well, sir, hitting it off and there was

a separation. But anyway, she was the only one I

could go to for advice, and she said right out it was no use getting in touch with your missis, but what she did do

was write to Miss Nellie, and Miss Nellie

came out like a shot and she tackled Miss Betty,

and there was high jinks in the house. They went

at each other like two cats, Mary said. Miss

Nellie threatened to bring the police, but Miss

Betty said she had your written authority to sell

everything, and she waved a paper at her. Also she said that she was entitled to what she had taken."

Arnold now lifted up a cup from the floor and

sipped at it before he went on, "Miss Nellie

came up here after and when I asked her if you were

capable of tackling the business she said that was the

point, at the moment you mustn't be disturbed. She was

in a state; she sat there crying. Anyway, sir,

Miss Betty left the next morning an' she

put a letter into me hand and said to me that when you came back, that's if you did, I was to give it you.

'Twas then I knew she had done a terrible thing

to you, an' quite innocently you had given her the power to do it, but as I said

to Mary you've still got the buildings and the land, you can start again."

There followed a long silence. The room was

stuffy; he wanted air, he wanted to open his mouth

and draw in great draughts of air; he also wanted

to open his mouth and scream as he had heard men scream so often in agony. . . . Start again! He'd never

be able to start again. For one thing, he hadn't

the money, for if she had cleared the farm she would have cleared the bank at the same time. And even if he

had the money where would he get the strength?

It was a great wonder the shrapnel hadn't moved

already.

He looked at Arnold now and said, "May I

have the letter?"

"Behind the clock, sir." Arnold nodded towards the mantelpiece, and Charlie rose to his feet and

took the letter from behind the clock; then sitting down again he looked at it. Although it was sealed he knew by the

crumpled envelope that it had already been steamed open, but what did that matter. Having taken the double sheet of paper out of the envelope he began to read it. The

letter had no heading, it began simply:

"If the shock hasn't already killed you, you'll be reading this. What I've taken is only my just right,

nobody but you would have expected me to live in that

house under another of the Chapmans because the place,

both the house and the farm, are virtually mine. My

father might have made it but it was I who kept it going, and after working like a black all during the war, to be told by you that I'd be taken care of was just too much.

But it wasn't only that, it was the fact that you had the nerve to tell me that you intended to bring

another Chapman in there. Well, see how she

reacts when she knows she'll have to start and build a

home from scratch ... on nothing!

Most of the furniture in the place was what Mother

bought with her own money and it should have come to me; but what happened when she died? The same as when Father died,

not a penny not a stick was I left. Well, I

feel no compunction in taking what I rightly feel

to be mine. You'll likely be advised to take me

to court. Well, you can do so if you can find me, but

knowing you, you won't take that step, you'll just hide your head in the sand as always.

We never liked each other so I'm not

going to end with any fond farewells, yet in a way

I feel sorry for you for you were born a loser. It

has always amazed me how you ever became commissioned,

it was like a fluke. Well, I suppose everybody

is allowed one break. That's how I see it and

I'm giving it to myself; for nobody else will.

Betty."

The letter was so characteristic of his sister, it was as if she had been sitting opposite him and talking at him.

"She's a wicked woman, sir, a hard wicked

woman. There's never been a happy moment on the

place since you left. What do you think

you'll do, sir?"

Charlie leant back in his chair and looked up

at the low smoked-dyed ceiling before he said flatly

and slowly, "I haven't the slightest idea,

Arnold."

As he finished speaking there was a sound of

footsteps coming along the flags outside the

cottages and Arnold said, "That'll be Mary,

she's been over to the Chapmans. Mrs Chapman

is taking her on, mornin's like, it helps."

However, it wasn't Mary who opened the door

without knocking but Nellie. She almost

burst into the room, then held her breath for a moment as she looked across at Charlie.

Slowly now she closed the door, then came

to his side and, taking his hand, said, "Oh my dear!

you had to find out some time, but I've nearly been out of my mind. Doctor Arlet's secretary phoned

me. I... I seem to have run all the way." She

now turned her face towards Arnold and said,

"You're looking a bit better, Arnold."

"Yes, miss, yes, I'm feeling much