The Red Cliffs (25 page)

Alison
’
s eyes opened wide. It was at once apparent what had happened. The crop of barley, which had waved in beautiful thickness and evenness in the wind only a day or two before, was now trampled and ruined. Somebody had let the bullocks into the barley field.

“
Oh, what a shame!
”
she said at once.

“
What a shame,
”
repeated Neil sardonically.
“
And what do you know about it, Alison?
”

“
Nothing at all. You don
’
t think that I would have let the bullocks into the barley?
”

“
I think you might have been so damned careless as to leave the gate open,
”
he said, inflamed by the sight of the ruined crop.

“
Well, I didn
’
t,
”
she said, angry too,
“
and you must take my word for it.
”

“
Did you ever see this before?
”
he asked, and brought from his pocket a chiffon headscarf, the sort of thing she often used over her hair in windy weather.

“
Yes, it
’
s mine,
”
she said.
“
Where did you find it?
”

“
On the ground at the foot of the hedge—just by this open gate,
”
said Neil.

“
But it
’
s crazy,
”
she said.
“
I haven
’
t been near this place for weeks—I
’
m terrified of your bullocks, for one thing.
”

He looked at her in silence for a moment, then he flicked the scarf impatiently in her direction. She took it without a word, and Neil turned away from her.

“
It
’
s the sort of feckless thing your brother was always doing,
”
he said in a hard voice,
“
and he never admitted to it either.
”

She could hardly contain her anger, but he was already walking away from her with long strides. Fuel was added to her anger, because, to avoid the bullocks, she had to take a long way home. She told herself stormily that it was never wise to relax one
’
s guard with these unpredictable men.

A few days later, she could hardly believe her eyes, or the depths of Neil
’
s meanness, when she found that the gate into her kitchen garden had been left open, and this time the bullocks had trampled on, or eaten, almost everything in it. This sort of ridiculous warfare was beneath contempt. She would not even give him the satisfaction of complaining to him, but when he telephoned her, without waiting to hear what he had to say, she cut him off immediately. For the moment, all contact between the house and the cottage was at an end.

A third incident, while not so disastrous, served to keep Neil
’
s temper high. He had a number of cows which had been separated from their calves, and some malicious person, presumably Alison, had let them in to their mothers again. As he was driving past the cottage and saw Alison weeding in the garden, he stopped his car at once and got out to speak to her.

“
I don
’
t know what you hope to gain,
”
he said,
“
by these petty annoyances, but if they continue, I shall have to take decided steps.
”

“
I haven
’
t the least idea what you
’
re talking about,
”
said Alison.

“
I hoped—and began to think—that all the members of the Springett family were not the same. Now I realise that you
’
re as irresponsible as your brother was.
”

“
I will not have these continual disparaging remarks about Tom! You
’
ve never said a good word for him. You never understood him and you ruined his happiness; and he
’
s not here to answer for himself. I should be happy if you never stop and speak to me again.
”

“
If you continue to do deliberate damage on my farm, I have to contact you. There is nobody else who could have done these things. As for Tom, he ruined his own happiness; he ruined Evelyn
’
s and caused her death; and that was too big a load even for him to carry.
”

“
How can you say such wicked things?
”
asked Alison, horrified.
“
He adored Evelyn—he would have made her happy if you hadn
’
t interfered.
”

Neil stood inside the gate facing her.

“
Let
’
s get this straight,
”
he said.
“
I never interfered in their affairs until I had to. I didn
’
t want Evelyn to marry your brother, because I saw that he was a weak man. I went to their help when their business failed because Tom asked me to. He didn
’
t like to see Evelyn in such circumstances when she was going to have a child. He jumped at the chance of coming here to Combe Russet and taking over a farm. But mark this, I didn
’
t even know how they were situated until they came to me for help.
T
hey had no money. I had this place altered and decorated to Evelyn
’
s plans. I furnished it for them and put in all the latest equipment to save Evelyn work. I stocked the farm and even lent Tom workers until
h
e could get his own. And because I knew my own pride would never stand for such a gift, I let him understand that he could repay me, if he wished, if he did well, at any time in the future.

“
But he didn
’
t want to repay anything. He didn
’
t want to work. He wanted to be a gentleman farmer, which was not my idea at all. If he had had the makings of a man, he would have got down to work then and established himself; but he left the farm to the labourers and without supervision it started to go to the bad. He got into bad company in the town: every town has its bad element, its Roger Falcons who will turn any kind of dishonest penny to get out of real work, and for them Tom was easy prey. I
’
ve never said that he was dishonest, but he was so weak that he was al
w
ays on the fringe of it. I did call him over the coals a couple of times
—
that was what you call interfering, I suppose—but I had Evelyn
’
s future in mind.
H
e might have loved her, but he neglected her. I tried to make it up to her by keeping her in touch with all our old friends, but at first she was loyal to Tom. She didn
’
t want the people here to know how her marriage was turning out. Later, she got so lonely that she turned to me for comfort.

“
I
’
ve wondered endlessly what could have been done at that time to stop the rot. I still don
’
t know. Tom was always in the town, drinking at the Golden Hind, with Falcon and his like: Evelyn was always here, so often alone, waiting for the birth of her baby. It wasn
’
t what I wanted for her. I used to drop in sometimes in the evening, to keep an eye on her, and more than once I was there when a fuddled husband came home to her. You don
’
t like this. Believe me, I didn
’
t like it either.

“
The one thing I will never be able to forgive him for was not paying his telephone bill. Probably it was an oversight, but the sort of oversight that was unpardonable. When Evelyn
’
s baby started to come, she couldn
’
t telephone. She couldn
’
t get in touch with Tom at the Golden Hind, or with me at the House. She could then have walked up to me, but she didn
’
t want to expose Tom
’
s heartlessness. He may not actually have known it had started, but he knew it was so near that he shouldn
’
t leave her for most of the day and well into the night. By the time she had thrown her pride overboard and wanted to come to me, she couldn
’
t.

“
I don
’
t know what impelled me to walk along the drive that night. It was a beautiful night, and I strolled along towards the cottage, and I saw that lights were on upstairs and that the car was not in the garage. So I walked in to see Evelyn—and I will never forget what I saw. I raced back to the house and shouted to the maid to get the doctor and raced to the cottage again, to help Evelyn. Dr. Perth was there as fast as any man could have got there; the ambulance very soon after. There was still no sign of Tom, and I went in the ambulance with Evelyn, holding her hand. By then, Dr. Perth had eased her pain for her. Everything that possibly could be done for her then was done, but it was too late. It was a complicated birth, but if it had been taken in time, she would have been all right. As it was.
...”

Neil paused, and Alison was bereft of words. She stood in a shocked silence looking at him, unable to believe what he said.

“
He was sorry all right,
”
said Neil in a dry voice.
“
He was in agonies of self-reproach. Remorse ate into him day and night. He went completely to pieces. I didn
’
t envy him his life at that time, but it was no longer my affair. I left him alone. The rest of it you know as well as I do.
”

There was another silence. A number of possible defences of Tom occurred to Alison, but she could not speak them. Her throat was dry, and she felt she needed time to think about all he had told her.

“
Another thing, before I go,
”
said Neil.
“
About Falcon. I warned your brother about him, as I warned you; he took as much notice as you did. Falcon used to work for me. I thought he was somewhat flash, but I also thought him clever, and was willing for him to go far. I put him in a position of trust and watched him. He didn
’
t make the grade,
he betrayed the trust, threw away what could have been a successful career. I fired him. And when he applied for another job, and the employer came to me for a reference, I told the truth about him. For this he has always borne me a grudge. You seem to think that I take a pleasure in maligning people, but you will admit that I warned you against him on good grounds. I didn
’
t lie to you about Falcon, and I
’
m not lying to you about Tom.
”

He turned and went through the gateway to his car. With his hand on the handle of the door, he turned back for a last word:

“
As for your being happy if I never stop and speak to you again,
”
he said,
“
I
’
ll see what I can do to promote your happiness.
”

Alison watched him go. She stood motionless in the chilly autumn day, her mind beginning to grapple with all that he had told her. It was worse than she would have believed possible. Everything that Neil had said was at variance with what Tom had told her; and as it was not possible that both had spoken the truth, one had lied. Neil had said that he was not lying, and she felt instinctively that he was not. That, then, meant that Tom had lied to her all those months. She remembered the occasions when he had arrived at the flat, and she had cooked special dinners for him, always so glad to see him, always delighted that he confided in her. Now, reluctantly, she began to see how his confidences were always tales of woe, always resentments against people whose luck was better than his. There was no doubt about it—he had had better chances than many people, but had never made use of them.

Alison turned and went into the house. She made some tea and carried it into the sitting room, and set a match to the fire there. She wondered suddenly how often Evelyn had made tea for herself, alone in the house, sitting on this same couch, looking into the fire. Waiting for Tom. Tom
...

Poor Tom. Alison
’
s love for him could not be affected by what she had heard, although she
recognised that it had the ring of truth. How far could Tom be blamed? How much could individuals improve on the equipment with which they were born? Christopher, Alison, Tom—three children of the same parents, but most unequally endowed. Could Christopher take credit for being strong and having stamina and brains? Could she herself take credit for a talent that was within her from the beginning? She knew that, however weak Tom had been, his weakness had brought him tragedy, and he still had needed love.