The Swallow and the Hummingbird (32 page)

Maddie sulked. She put away her sketchpad and pencils and no longer accompanied her mother to Bray Cove. When the swallows returned she cursed them. Why ever had she been interested in birds? To Hannah and Humphrey’s dismay Bertie’s car once more drew up outside their house and his arrogant, empty face was frequently seen pressed against the kitchen window, grinning inanely. Maddie let him kiss her in the lay-by outside Frognal Point, but her heart had frozen over.

Rita sensed her sister’s unhappiness had much to do with Harry Weaver but she didn’t dare mention his name. If Maddie’s pride was hurt she would not want to talk about it. So she left her to smoulder about the house like an angry dragon without realizing that, for the first time in their lives, they had something in common.

At the beginning of April Faye received another letter from George. This time she folded it away carefully and resigned herself with sadness to the fact that their much-treasured family friendship would now be over for sure. There was no avoiding a fall-out once this piece of news reached Hannah’s kitchen.

George was getting married. His fiancée was called Susan and he had met her on the boat going out to Argentina. She was American and he was very much in love with her. Faye already despised Susan and immediately blamed her for ensnaring George so soon after he had left Rita. Only when she talked to Thadeus did she realize that she was wrong to cast blame.

‘We all have the power of free will,’ he said, sitting down beside her on the bench in his garden. The earth was now beginning to stir with life as the days lengthened and the weather warmed. Daffodils and snowdrops swung their pretty drooping heads and a pair of swallows danced in the air announcing their return and the long-awaited arrival of spring.

‘How am I going to tell Rita that George fell in love with this American woman no more than a few days after leaving her?’

‘Why do you need to tell her the details?’ he asked, taking her cold hand in his large warm one.

‘Because I feel she has a right to know.’

Thadeus shrugged his big shoulders and growled. ‘You don’t have to lie, Faye, just tell her half the truth.’

‘That George is marrying another woman? I’m so furious with him. It was bad enough breaking off his engagement. This news is going to destroy her.’

‘Don’t be angry with your son. He has the right to love whoever he chooses. He had not made his marriage vows to Rita. He was not committed to her in the eyes of God, only in the eyes of the Fairweathers. It is better to love honestly than to love like we do.’ Faye watched the swallows disappear over the hedge, their song lost in the wind.

‘At least he’s marrying the right woman,’ she said, squeezing Thadeus’s hand. ‘Or, at least, I hope he is.’

‘People change. What he wanted as a boy is not necessarily what he wants as a man. Rita was right for him while he was young. Perhaps he simply grew out of her. Don’t blame him for that. You wouldn’t wish him to make a mistake, would you? Are you more concerned about your friendship with Hannah than your own son’s happiness?’

‘Of course not!’ she replied quickly. Then she sighed heavily. ‘I just want everyone to be happy.’

‘Life is not like that. We’re not meant to be happy all of the time. Life is full of problems and the sooner we realize that the better our chances of contentment. If your expectations are too high you will never be satisfied.’

‘So what do I do?’ she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘Go and see Hannah. Tell her that George has written to you saying he is to marry an American woman he met in Argentina. That is all she needs to know. Then leave her alone to digest it. If she lets it come between you, so be it. There is nothing you can do. Go with the current because trying to swim against it will only wear you out.’

‘Thank God I’ve got you!’ she breathed. ‘Why do we all make such a mess of love?’

‘That I cannot answer,’ he replied with a smile.

When Faye arrived at Hannah’s house she leaned her bicycle up against the wall and walked through the hedge to the garden. She knew better than to knock on the door. On a day like this Hannah would be outside, looking after her birds and plants. As it was half term, Faye found Eddie playing with Ezra Gunch in the run that Harry had constructed for him on the lawn.

‘Hi Faye,’ Eddie cried with a giggle, for Ezra had just disappeared into a cardboard tube she had stolen from an unfinished toilet roll. ‘I’m training him to be an acrobat,’ she added when Faye came to see what she was laughing at.

‘You’re doing a terrific job of it,’ she replied in a tight voice. She felt so nervous her whole body was shaking. ‘Where’s your mother?’

‘In the vegetable garden planting sweet peas,’ she replied, picking up the tube and pouring Ezra out onto the palm of her hand. ‘Isn’t he a dear little thing? We’ve become very close. He peed on Harvey’s grave when I took him to visit it. I don’t think he has much respect for the dead.’

Faye couldn’t help but smile at the child’s exuberance then, taking a very deep breath, she walked across the lawn to the old wooden door in the wall.

Hannah and Rita were working either side of the bamboo frame, chatting away happily while they planted the sweet peas. Hannah heard Faye approach and looked up.

‘Faye,’ she exclaimed. ‘What a nice surprise.’

‘Beautiful day, isn’t it?’ said Faye, putting off the dreadful moment for as long as possible.

‘Finally. Winter did seem very long this year for some reason.’

Rita noticed the tension in Faye’s face and stopped planting.

‘I had a letter from George,’ she said flatly, folding her arms in front of her. She looked at Rita and shook her head apologetically. Hannah paused her digging and her smile disappeared into a worried frown. ‘He’s getting married.’

Rita’s cheeks flushed before blanching with shock. Hannah stared at her friend in disbelief. ‘Getting married? Who to?’

‘An American he’s met out there.’

‘What’s her name?’ Rita asked. Faye thought it an odd question.

‘Susan.’

Rita began to cry. Hannah dropped her trowel and hurried around the frame to comfort her. Faye stood awkwardly watching them, not knowing what to do with her hands. She wanted to leave but feared she would appear rude.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s come as a total surprise. I never imagined he’d have met someone else. Agatha’s farm is in the middle of nowhere.’

Hannah held her sobbing daughter against her breasts, mumbling endearments, as Faye looked on miserably. Eddie skipped through the door with Ezra Gunch perched on her shoulder. Her broad smile slid off her face when she saw her mother and Rita crouched down on the mud and she glowered accusingly at Faye.

‘What’s George done now?’ she demanded and Faye was taken aback by the child’s formidable tone of voice.

‘He’s getting married,’ she replied. Eddie was horrified.

‘How dare he!’ she exclaimed, taking Ezra Gunch off her shoulder and sending him up her sleeve to safety. ‘He was only in love with Rita five minutes ago. What a pig!’

‘I think I had better go,’ Faye stammered, backing away. ‘I’m so sorry.’ But neither Hannah nor Rita noticed her. Only Eddie glared at her as if she were guilty of betrayal too.

‘I want to walk on the beach,’ Rita said at last, extracting her face from her mother’s spongy bosom. Hannah looked anxious.

‘I’ll go with you,’ she suggested, standing up.

‘No, I want to go alone,’ Rita replied. Then she recognized the fear in her mother’s eyes and added firmly, ‘I won’t throw myself off the cliff, I promise.’ Hannah wasn’t convinced.

‘Oh, I really don’t think you should be alone at a time like this,’ she protested.

‘I’ll be fine. I’m angry. Angry people don’t kill themselves.’

‘You can take Ezra if you like. He won’t talk to you,’ Eddie suggested. Hannah placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

‘Thank you, dear, but I think Ezra’s happier with you.’

‘I won’t go up on the cliffs. I’ll go straight to the beach.’

‘All right,’ her mother conceded grudgingly. ‘But don’t do anything stupid.’

Rita set off at a brisk walk. For the last few months she had nurtured a small flame of hope that George might return as planned after a year and want her back. It was a fragile flame and one which she knew she shouldn’t fan with dreams and wishes. But while he was on his own there had always been that faint chance. Now he had fallen in love with someone else that flame had died, and her heart was plunged into darkness.

She hurried down the grassy path to the beach and then hovered momentarily, working up the courage to turn left to their secret cave. Slowly, she began to walk. With every step she remembered George. Now the footsteps in the sand were solitary ones. When she reached the mouth of the cave she stopped, unsure of whether to proceed, afraid of what she would encounter within.

Suppressing her anxiety, she stepped inside. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness she was surprised to see nothing but a gaping hollow of rock. There were no ghosts, no shadows, no demons dancing on the walls. Just her own memories locked safely inside her head. She walked up to the far end and sat down on the dry sand. She crossed her legs and listened to the hypnotic sound of waves breaking on the beach. Her fingers began to play with the dove pendant that hung between her breasts. She rubbed it with her thumb and forefinger for a while, deliberating whether she had the strength to take it off and lose it to the sea. There was no reason to wear it now. It only reminded her of George and the promises they had made to one other.

With a sigh she unclasped the pendant and let it drop into the palm of her hand. She looked at it through her tears. The lost letter had been an omen. She understood that now. Hadn’t Thadeus said that a dove is symbolic of forgiveness as well as wedded bliss and love? She wondered whether George had known that when he had sent it to her. Well, she was unable to forgive him. He had betrayed her. Little by little she felt the burning sensation of hate seep into her heart like black tar. It was heavy and sticky and bitter and so dreadfully ugly that she was ashamed of herself. She strode out of the cave, down to where the sea crept up the sand, and flung the pendant into the waves. It made no sound or splash and was swallowed up by the greedy sea.

And what of the ring? The diamond solitaire that symbolized his promise to marry her. How often had she looked into its innocent sparkle and heard his words, ‘
Every time you look at it I want you to remember how much I love you.
’ Now she took it off and slid it onto the third finger of her right hand. For some reason she was loath to let it go. Only when the last ray of hope had diminished would she send it, too, to the bottom of the sea.

As Rita walked through the village she decided to pay a visit to Thadeus. The last time she had seen him had been when she had lost George’s letter to the sea. He had been a valuable source of wisdom then. She turned up the lane and hesitated outside the little gate that was partially obscured by the thick yew hedge. He would probably think her foolish crying once again over George. She should have visited him before to show him that she wasn’t always broken-hearted. However, she dismissed her fears with the thought of his warm, cosy house and opened the gate.

She knocked on the door and waited. There was no reply. She knocked again and looked about her. She noticed a bicycle leaning against the wall in the sunshine. Deducing from the bicycle that he must be at home, she wandered round the house to the garden. It was such a beautiful day he was probably pottering about in his borders. As she started to make her way through the cluster of rhododendron bushes she saw him sitting on a bench with his arm around a petite woman with flowing white hair, whose head rested on his shoulder. As they were facing the other way she was unable to recognize the woman, but decided not to intrude on what was without doubt an intimate moment. She began to creep away. But curiosity pulled her back. She stole through the bushes far enough to get a better look. Horrified, she saw that the woman with long hair was none other than Faye. Clasping a hand over her mouth to smother a gasp, she scurried away as fast as possible, praying that they hadn’t seen her.

When she was safely out in the lane she sank back into the hedge and covered her face with trembling hands. Her heart was thumping with fear and fury. She had never seen Faye with her hair down before. She looked like a young girl, a beautiful young girl. She immediately felt desperately sorry for Trees, toiling away on the farm while his wife led a secret romantic life with Thadeus Walizhewski. No wonder he kept one of her sculptures in his bedroom. One of her masterpieces. Did George know that his mother was an adulteress? Did betrayal run in the family? Run in his blood? A fine example she set, Rita thought bitterly. Faye of all people! She ran home, blinded by rage, and locked herself in her bedroom.

Rita realized she could never divulge what she had seen, not to anyone. But that day she lost all faith in love. She had always assumed that Trees and Faye had one of the happiest marriages in the world. She had based her own ideals of marriage on theirs and that of her parents. Now she not only felt betrayed by George but by his mother too, for shattering everything she believed in.

Mrs Megalith stood in the middle of her garden with Nestor, the ancient gardener, directing him with the aid of her walking stick. ‘Over there are scarlet field poppies, purple verbena and violets,’ she said, delighting in the thought of these opportunist seedlings. ‘Lovely!’ Nestor, half-bent with age and the force of Mrs Megalith’s awesome personality, staggered over and pointed at the little sprouts that were already peeping out of the earth.

‘It’s difficult to imagine now, Mrs M, but when these little fellows flower it’ll be a wonderland of vibrant colour.’ He spoke slowly with a heavy Devonshire drawl so that even Mrs Megalith found him difficult to understand. ‘A rainbow in your own garden!’ he mused cheerfully. ‘I did a fair bit of weeding in the autumn, you see, of campions especially. Created a bit of space for other fellows like poppies. I know how much you like poppies, Mrs M.’