Across the Sands of Time (4 page)

Polly gave a little laugh.

‘I won't forget.'

That afternoon, she was on her way out, a cape over her pretty afternoon gown of sprigged muslin, for the day was wet, when her father's deep voice stopped her in her tracks.

‘Polly, is that you? Come in here, girl. There's something important I want to tell you.'

Polly's insides quailed. Had Da found out about John? Worse, had he spotted her last night and wanted to make sure of her silence?

‘Polly!' Wallace's voice roared again.

Polly straightened her back, lifted her chin and went to answer her father's summons. The battered old door of the tap-room swung shut behind her with a bang.

 

Mae took the final batch of currant buns out of the Aga and put them with the rest to cool, slamming shut the oven door with a sigh. There, that was the market bake done for another day. Chas, glancing through the newspaper as he drank his mid-morning coffee, looked up sharply.

‘You look worried, Mae, What is it?'

‘Well, since you ask.…' His wife brought her own coffee to the table and sat down.

‘Chas, do you think there's something worrying Thea? When I took her a cup of tea first thing this morning she started up in the bed as if she'd seen a ghost.'

He shook his head.

‘She's got a lot on her mind, builders at the house, things not always going to plan. It's enough to make anyone edgy.'

‘Perhaps, but she seems so distracted. It's not like her. I hope
she's not regretting her engagement. You know how it is. Doubts start creeping in once the initial excitement wears off.'

He gave her a sidelong look.

‘Really? Is that what happened to you?'

‘Of course not.' Mae smilingly reached out and touched her husband's work-callused hand. ‘Silly thing! I'm not too happy about Bryony, either. Out until all hours, never saying where she's going. I hate to think what time she came in last night.'

‘But that's how it is with youngsters, Mae. They're off on a jolly when we're thinking about turning in for the night. I shouldn't worry, Bryony can look after herself.'

‘You spoil her,' Mae scolded. ‘You always have. Bryony can do no wrong in your eyes.'

She broke off abruptly as the door opened and their younger daughter came in. It was her day off. In her denim mini-skirt and skimpy white top she was clearly dressed to go out.

Her blonde curls were scrunched up with a diamante clasp on the top of her head and on her feet she wore clumpy mules.

Her two daughters, Mae thought with amused affection, couldn't have been more different.

‘Off out on the town?' Chas asked her.

‘I'm picking Liz up,' Bryony nodded, ‘then we're going to Liverpool. Dad, could you lend me some money for petrol? I'll pay you back at the end of the month.'

‘I've heard that one before.' Chas grinned indulgently, then dug into his wallet and handed her a couple of notes. ‘Mind how you go. Traffic's bad at this time of day.'

‘I will.' She dropped her father a kiss on the top of his bushy head of hair. ‘Thanks Dad, you're a star.'

On her way out she made to seize a newly-baked bun from the tray.

‘Not those!' Mae cried hastily. ‘They're for the market. Have an apple if you're hungry. Or better still, have some cereal.'

‘No time, Mum. I told Liz I'd be there for eleven and I'm already late.'

‘It might help if you didn't stay out half the night. You'd be better able to get up in the mornings then.'

‘Oh, Mum. Don't start.'

‘What do you expect? I lie awake worrying until I know you're back safely. It's not on, Bryony. Your sister never behaved in this way.'

Mae hadn't meant to make an issue of it but it was too late now.

Bryony glowered as only Bryony could.

‘Thea wouldn't. Anyway, she was at university at my age. You don't know what she got up to while she was there, do you? You're always having a go at me.'

‘Bryony, that'll do,' her father cut in. ‘Your mother's only concerned about you. There's no need to speak to her like that.'

‘Mum treats me like I'm still a kid at school,' Bryony retorted. ‘Who'd want to be the youngest in this family? Oh, I've had enough, I'm going!'

‘What time do you expect—' Mae began, but her daughter had slammed out and she turned to her husband in despair.

‘See what I mean?'

Chas raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture and let them fall again.

‘It's just a stage. She'll sort herself out.'

‘Meanwhile I have the worry of it.'

‘All mothers worry over their chicks. Look, try and see this for what it is, Mae, and give the girl some space. Cut yourself some slack, too, love. You're always slaving away till all hours, doing the market bakes on top of everything else.'

He gave a knowing smile.

‘I haven't heard Richard's name mentioned yet. Does that mean he's behaving himself?'

‘I wish you wouldn't humour me like this, Chas,' Mae said crisply. ‘It only makes things worse. I wouldn't be at all surprised if Richard isn't making plans of his own.'

‘Plans? What d'you mean?'

‘Just a hunch. Haven't you noticed how he avoids talking about the future? Like yesterday when you were thinking about what to put the Long Acre down to. Richard's usually keen to air his knowledge when it comes to crop rotation. I thought he was downright evasive.'

‘Is that all?' Chas shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Happen his mind was elsewhere. On his girlfriend, maybe.' He paused. ‘Come to think of it, Tracey let slip something that had me thinking when she was here the other evening. We were jawing on about the new identity cards the government seems to think we need.

‘Tracey made the point that a passport should suffice. Then she laughed – you know how she is – and said what a fright Richard looked on his new one. Has he spoken about having a passport photograph taken recently?'

‘No, not a word,' Mae said quietly. ‘Maybe they're planning a holiday abroad?'

‘Could be. Strange he's never mentioned it.…' He grinned suddenly. ‘Blue skies, golden sand and Tracey. No wonder he doesn't want to talk about farming!'

Mae smiled, hands cupped around her coffee mug.

‘Oh, I bumped into Dominic Shane at the supermarket last night. Apparently he's just moved into one of the Dee Cottages. Lovely big garden, he said – well, he's got the dog. Couldn't have been easy for him in digs.'

‘The new vet, you mean? I didn't know he was thinking of buying a place in Parkgate. He must have decided to stay, then. I had a feeling he might move on. Just shows how wrong you can be. He's a good vet, I'll say that for him. If I still had my cows he'd be the one I'd use. Quite miss my cows,' he mused.

‘I know you do.' Mae's tone softened. ‘Maybe one day we'll be in a position to put a dairy herd together again. Something along the lines of the Roseacre stock. Talking of Roseacre, Dominic was saying how Mike Sanders hadn't been very well. Funny Thea never mentioned it. I must give Helen a ring. What a worry for her.'

Chas nodded.

‘Good thing they've got Geoff there. They'd never cope on their own.'

‘Apparently Dominic got roped in to help the other day. They were short-handed for the milking and he happened to be there. It
would be for the vaccinations, I expect. He seemed to have enjoyed himself. I get the impression his people were farmers.'

‘Really?' Chas finished his coffee. ‘You know more than I do then. Bit of an enigma, that young man. I got to chatting with him a bit when he was calling to see that mare of Thea's. Tried several times to get him into conversation about his home ground, but he wouldn't be drawn. I wonder if he's ever been married.'

‘And it all went turn and turn about, you mean? I wouldn't know. People are entitled to their private lives, Chas.'

‘I don't deny that. But there's something guarded about him, that's all. Show me the man or woman who doesn't like to enthuse about their homeland when they've moved away. But Dominic Shane? He couldn't get off the subject fast enough!'

 

‘Here, Trina.' Dominic ushered the red setter into the pick-up, shut the door and turned to Geoff with a nod.

‘Right then, that's the lot for jabs for now. I've signed the certificate of proof and left it in the house with Mrs Sanders. You'll know about needing to get it copied for the official records, of course?'

Geoff made a wry face.

‘Tenfold, you mean? Yes, I know – bloody red tape! Don't know how we'd manage but for Mum. She's got to grips with it all splendidly. Everything's filed on to a computer and she knows exactly where to find it.'

Dominic nodded.

‘I expect Thea's pretty well in touch with the ins and outs of farming paperwork, too?'

‘I wouldn't be so sure about that. As I understand it, Richard and Mae do the books between them at Woodhey. Thea's busy with her show ponies.'

‘She's won a lot with them, hasn't she? You must be very proud of her.'

‘Oh, yes. You like the equestrian side of things, don't you? Is that what you specialized in back in … Donegal, was it?'

‘Yes,' Dominic answered.

‘Thea's never got over to Ireland with her little lot yet. Is the showing scene big over there?'

‘Fairly. I didn't have much to do with it myself. I dealt with the big fellows.'

Dominic paused, his blue eyes inward looking. Then he stirred himself.

‘Well, that'll be all for now, Geoff. I'd best be getting along. I moved house at the weekend. Lots to do.'

‘Now that's something I know I can safely leave in Thea's hands when the time comes – home decorating! Cheers then, Dominic. Thanks for everything.'

‘No problem.' Dominic climbed into the car, letting down the window. ‘I hope to see your father up and about again next time I come. See you, Geoff.'

He was smiling as he drove off. It was good to be returning to his own place at last. Beamed and flagged and beautifully maintained, it had all the character he looked for in a home.

The Donegal house that Aisling had been doing up for them had been all minimalist and stainless steel. Dominic felt infinitely more at home in Woodhey's big farmhouse kitchen, with its good smells of baking and the farm clutter piled on the vast dresser.

Roseacre was in a similar mould but the rooms were tastefully understated with well chosen antiques, deep, comfortable sofas and muted colours. He tried to picture Thea as mistress of it – which she was sure to be eventually – and found to his surprise that he couldn't.

He slowed for the traffic lights ahead, glancing round while he waited for them to change. The great oaks and beeches that lined the road were in full leaf, dusty now after the spell of dry weather. The fields and hedgerows were neat and well tended.

It was a far cry from the rugged spaces of his homeland but possessed a charm of its own. Dominic was glad of the total change of scene, happy to look ahead.

‘Sure, haven't we landed on our paws here, Trina me girl,' he said to the dog in the back seat, reaching to fondle her silky head. The setter had been a gift from Aisling; she always had been one for extravagant gestures.

Aisling – pronounced Ashleen, and woe betide any poor unsuspecting soul who got it wrong! – rose unbidden into his mind. The fey darkness of her, the sultry appeal, utterly irresistible and every bit as lethal as a rattlesnake. Dominic's expression was grim.

When the lights changed, he indicated right and swung round for Parkgate and his new home.

Later, after a sketchy meal and a desultory attempt to unpack a few belongings that still lay in large boxes and bin liners in the narrow hallway, Dominic took Trina for a walk along the estuary.

The sun was setting in spectacular streaks of amber and crimson and shadows were long-drawn across the open expanse of saltmarsh. As he walked, a few lines from a poem by Charles Kingsley ran through his mind.

He'd come across the poem in an anthology he'd picked up in a small second-hand bookshop recommended to him by Thea. The words appealed to his Celtic soul; the open aspect of his surroundings and salt-laden air stirred stark memories and dark thoughts of Donegal.

So you're running out on me.… Great.

Get a grip, Aisling! What d'you expect after what's happened?

A bit of understanding would help. I did it for us, can't you see that? It would have come off, too, if you hadn't interfered, damn you!

And then another voice, harshly male, incredulous rather than accusing.

For God's sake, Dom! Whatever possessed you, man? You must have known the risk you were taking. You certainly know what the consequences would be if I did the required thing and took this matter further. You'd get struck off!

It hadn't come to that. Dominic had done the only possible thing and given notice. Relations between himself and Aisling had turned sour and he'd had no choice but to finish it.

The opening with the Parkgate practice had been the first on the list of situations vacant and Dominic had blindly put in his application. Parkgate on the Wirral peninsula seemed as good a place as any to start afresh. At the time he hadn't cared where he went. Nothing could ever live up to the job he had just given up. Nothing ever would. If he had to spend the rest of his working life in general animal practice, then so be it.

As things turned out, someone – as his mother would have said – had been watching over him. The employment he had walked into had turned out ideal. His colleagues were genial, the work varied and interesting, the environment pleasing. Surely if there was anywhere he could settle and put the past behind him, it was here….