Elm Tree Road (17 page)

His uncle wouldn’t need to work at all if Cliff was still here. Frank’s cousin would have looked after his parents. His uncle wouldn’t need to work if he had a fair share of Cliff’s money, either.

It was all
her
fault.

She’d come back one day. And Frank would be waiting. They’d been good to him after his parents died, his aunt and uncle had, and he’d look after them in return. Whatever it took.

Three days later Nell set off again, using a bus service to take her out of town and only walking slowly. Her ankle was much better now and Gran had been right. Nell hadn’t woken up crying again. She still felt sad, but you couldn’t undo the past, could you?

The sun was shining, warming her face when she stopped to turn it up to the sun, like some of the flowers did. Birds were singing and calling, and it lifted her spirits just to hear them and see them darting here and there about their
business. When a skylark started singing somewhere above her, she stopped to listen to the beautiful sounds it made. She hadn’t even known what a skylark sounded like when she started this journey.

Lije had been right. She wasn’t in a hurry, should take time to enjoy the places she visited. Apart from anything else, it seemed she was learning a lot of lessons on her travels.

During the next few weeks, she wandered gradually southwards, stopping now and then to take on seasonal work. She picked strawberries, and later, plums, sleeping in a barn with the other workers and leaving her knapsack with the farmer’s wife during the time she was working.

She helped out in a corner grocery shop for a few days, worked in a market for a morning, selling fruit and vegetables, and helped a farmer’s wife spring-clean some attics. Two days that job took and they threw away a lot of things that might have been of sentimental value once, like a child’s battered rocking horse, but were no use now.

Nothing lasted for ever, that said to her.

It seemed as if fate was tossing jobs her way, making sure she stayed in contact with people.

Some women were frankly envious of her freedom, others worried about how dangerous this hiking might be.

Once, when she was staying for a few days in a market town, acting as waitress and general dogsbody at a busy café, she debated telling her sister she could write care of the café. But in the end, she didn’t do it. Renie might have come rushing to see her, and she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Anyway, the postcards would reassure her sister, stop her worrying too much.

She didn’t tell Joanna or the Garretts exactly where she was, either. She felt as if she was living in a fragile soap bubble that softened the world around her, and didn’t want anyone to disturb that.

Of course, as the weather grew colder, she’d have to think of settling somewhere in or near Swindon, but for the moment, this life suited her better than anything else she could think of.

In September the leaves of some trees began yellowing and fluttering to the ground whenever a stronger breeze shook their branches. The weather became noticeably colder, especially the early mornings and evenings, though there were still some lovely days to enjoy. Nell bought a knitted scarf and a man’s sweater with a high roll collar to wear during the cooler times of day – and sometimes in the unheated rooms in which she slept.

In the end, inevitably, she took the momentous decision to return to Wiltshire, but she still wasn’t sure she wanted to live in Swindon again. She could have gone there in less than half a day by taking the train, but she wasn’t quite ready for that yet, so simply turned south and didn’t allow herself to be diverted from her chosen path from then on. Well, not very often.

One day she’d gone to see a small lake someone had told her about and spent an hour watching the calm water turn choppy and grey before moving on. She’d thought she was on the right track again, but the road turned into
a country lane which began taking her towards the
north-west
, as far as she could work out from the rare glimpses of the sun.

When the land began to rise gently, she looked for a turning that led southwards again, but this new lane didn’t meet any other roads, only the faint farm tracks.

Should she retrace her steps? No, not yet. She’d just find out where this led first.

Her thoughts turned to what she would say to Cliff’s parents when she went to ask them if they’d heard from her sister Mattie. Somehow she could never find words that satisfied her, though she’d tried to rehearse what to say several times now.

Lost in thought, she stumbled and nearly fell, which brought her instantly out of her reverie. She didn’t want another sprained ankle. A drop of water on her cheek was followed by others and she looked up in dismay. When had those heavy clouds piled up? How could she have missed the rain starting?

Thunder rumbled across the land. Oh, no! She didn’t like thunderstorms at any time and was afraid of being caught outside in one. She stopped to get out her mackintosh and umbrella, then tramped doggedly on, doing her best to ignore the rain which the wind blew under her umbrella. She wouldn’t melt, after all, and her knapsack was more or less waterproof, so she’d have some dry clothes to change into later.

Then she saw that her lane crossed another road – at last! – and this one was wider so must have more traffic. Thank goodness! She turned on to it, and as the wind
grew stronger, she had to close her umbrella. Without its protection she quickly became a lot wetter and that made her feel the cold more.

About a mile further on she reached another junction. She hadn’t dared follow any of the rough tracks that led off her road. They might lead to farms, but they might not.

This new road looked to be quite well used, and was wider than the one she’d been following. The problem was to work out which way to turn. There were no signposts, no houses where she could ask directions, only the sodden countryside and the road itself. Shrugging, she turned right and carried on. The road must lead somewhere, after all, whichever way she turned.

To her enormous relief, she came to a bus stop with a wooden shelter over it and a small bench inside. The shelter was rough and ready, as if someone had built it for their own convenience, so there must be a dwelling nearby, surely? It was afternoon now and sometimes in the country there was only one bus a day, or one carrier’s cart that took passengers, but she could shelter and rest for a while.

She groaned in relief as she sat on the narrow bench, glad to take the weight off her aching feet for a few minutes. She’d walked a long way today. It was possible to put up her umbrella here if she held it close to her body, which gave her some shelter from the rain.

Why hadn’t she taken more care about where she was going?

She felt so exhausted, she leant her head back against the rough wood and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the
chill wind and the flurries of raindrops it tossed under her umbrella.

Once she’d had a rest, she’d start walking again.

Hugh Easton reined in his horse and trap, surprised to see a woman sitting at the bus stop. A stranger, slumped in a corner, with an open umbrella held sideways to protect herself. What on earth was she doing out here alone at this time of the afternoon?

When she didn’t open her eyes or seem to notice his presence, conscience compelled him to call, ‘Excuse me, but are you all right?’

As she opened her eyes, she shivered uncontrollably. ‘What? Oh, I got lost, I’m afraid. Are any buses due, do you know?’

‘There are no more today, I’m afraid.’ He thought for a minute she was going to burst into tears, but then she straightened up and drew a deep breath as if pulling herself together. That brave gesture caught his sympathy.

‘I’d better set off again, then. Could you please tell me which direction the nearest village is?’

Surely she wasn’t intending to walk there? She looked chalk white and was shivering. He pointed to the right. ‘It’s three miles away in that direction.’

‘Oh, dear. I need to find somewhere to stay for the night, then. Is there a farm or house anywhere nearer that takes in travellers?’

‘Not that I know of. And the next village is tiny, more a hamlet, really. There’s no inn there and only a handful of cottages, none of which have spare bedrooms. The farms
round here are small too, and in any case, there aren’t many of them near this road.’ The horse fidgeted, but he held it back, not daring now to drive on and leave her. He didn’t want to find her lying dead by the road the next day.

‘Will there be someone in the village I can hire to drive me to the next town, then?’

‘I doubt they’d do it today. There’s been a funeral and they’re all a bit upset.’ Most of the men had gone to the pub for a drink and everyone was angry about the motor car that had knocked old Jud down and killed him. They weren’t in the frame of mind to be kind to strangers, and had barely managed to be civil to Hugh, who was an incomer, even if he did have local connections.

‘Look, I think you’d better come home with me for the night. It’s another two or three miles beyond the village to somewhere you’d be likely to find lodgings and there’s a storm brewing, a bad one by the looks of it.’

She looked at him suspiciously and he didn’t blame her. She didn’t know anything about him. But on the other hand, he couldn’t leave her out here to die of exposure.

‘Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll manage. One of the farms may let me sleep in the barn. I’ve done that once or twice recently.’

‘If you’re short of money—’

The umbrella she was using to shield herself from sideways gusts flapped to and fro, nearly blowing inside out, and she had a struggle to hold on to it. ‘I’m not short of money, but when you’re hiking, you sometimes get
caught away from hotels and lodging houses.’ She gave up her unequal struggle and with some difficulty closed the umbrella.

‘We don’t get many hikers out here. Were you trying to find someone when you lost your way?’

‘No. I was just … making my way gradually towards Swindon.’

‘You’ve a good few miles to go yet.’

‘Yes.’

Lightning speared down from a clump of black clouds and thunder boomed almost immediately afterwards. The horse tossed its head and struggled to set off for home.

‘You really can’t stay here,’ he said again. ‘The worst of the storm’s just about to hit us. Look, my name’s Hugh Easton. I live at Hilltop Farm, which is at the end of Elm Tree Road – that’s what the next lane is called.’ He smiled. ‘It couldn’t be called anything else with three huge elm trees at the end.’

She gaped at him. Three elms! The Gypsy’s words echoed in her mind, as they had done every now and then since she left Gran and Lije.
Watch out for three big trees on a hill. Elm trees. You’ll have reached the end of this journey then. They’ll shelter you when you need it, those elm trees will.

Lightning lit everything up in a brief eerie glow, followed by a long menacing growl of thunder. She was so cold she couldn’t feel her fingers and toes, and he was right. If she didn’t find shelter soon, she’d be in serious trouble.

Gran had predicted her coming here and hadn’t
warned her of danger. Did she have any choice but to take his offer? But Gran had also warned her of an enemy. Nell studied his face carefully. His eyes were grey and very steady, the sort of eyes you trusted instinctively. No, this man couldn’t be her enemy. She knew that instinctively.

‘I’m not leaving you here alone,’ he said again. ‘I promise you’ll be perfectly safe with us.’

He’d said ‘us’. She supposed he was talking about his wife and family but was shivering too much to ask who exactly lived at the farm with him. ‘Very well. Thank you.’

‘Good. Can you toss your knapsack into the back of the trap without my help? Sandy here is a bit nervous of storms and I don’t want to let go of the reins.’

‘Yes, of course.’ She put her umbrella and knapsack into the back, then looked at him, not sure whether he meant her to ride in the back too or to climb up next to him.

As if answering her unspoken question, he held out his hand to help her up. ‘Be quick. We need to get you somewhere warm. You’re as white as a sheet.’

She let him heave her up on to the bench seat next to him and pulled the neck of her mackintosh up as high as she could, dragging the sodden brim of her hat down to cover the gap. It was only after they’d been driving for a couple of minutes that she realised how closely she was pressed against him on the small seat. But his body felt warm next to hers and she couldn’t bear to move away from that warmth. She couldn’t ever remember being this cold.

They turned off the road onto a narrow track, and when
she looked ahead she saw them: three huge trees, spaced out along a V-shaped gully that was too small to be called a valley, but was deep enough to protect the trees and let them grow tall. Beyond the final tree there was a group of buildings, but she couldn’t see them clearly because the rain was slashing down sideways.

Another shiver racked her.

‘Soon be there,’ he said quietly.

When they drew up at the rear of the house, an elderly dog came limping towards them, woofing hoarsely and wagging its tail. Her companion drove the trap towards an outbuilding with an open part attached, covered by a roof. The horse moved under its shelter and stopped, as if it had done this many times before. An old man came out from the interior of the barn, moving to the horse’s head and beginning to gentle it.

‘Thanks, Fred.’ Mr Easton swung down with easy grace and hurried round to help Nell.

She was so stiff with cold she found it hard to move. It was a good job he kept hold of her for a moment or two, because she wasn’t sure she could have stayed upright.

‘All right now?’

‘Yes. I was … stiff with cold.’

‘Just a minute.’ He reached into the back of the trap to get her knapsack, then took hold of her hand. ‘Come on. Run!’ He pulled her across the yard towards the shelter of a porch. She hadn’t realised quite how tall he was, but she didn’t feel at all afraid of his size as she had of Frank. Strange, that.

The door opened just as they got there, and a girl
who looked about ten years old stood back to let them inside.

‘Don’t let Blackie in!’ the man said. ‘He’s soaked and must stay with Fred.’

She pushed the dog outside, murmuring something to it, and shut the door. The noise of the wind lessened.

‘You’re wet through, Uncle Hugh!’ the girl said accusingly. ‘I told you to take your mackintosh today.’

‘I know. I forgot. This is—’ He broke off to smile. ‘Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.’

‘Nell Greenhill.’

His eyes went to her wedding ring. ‘Is your husband expecting to meet you somewhere?’

She was so tired of answering this question. She was going to take that ring off as soon as she got to Swindon. ‘I’m a widow.’

‘I see. This is my niece, May.’

Nell nodded to the child. ‘Is your wife not here, Mr Easton?’

‘I’m not married. Fred’s granddaughter, Pearl, comes in from the village Monday to Friday to look after May and me. The rest of the time we manage as best we can.’ He grinned at the child. ‘May’s getting to be a dab hand at cooking, even though she’s only ten, but I tend to burn things.’

‘He can be very absent-minded sometimes.’ The girl gave him a fond look.

He led the way along the corridor and into a big kitchen. Nell’s worries about her safety receded still further. He seemed a decent chap and he’d saved her from a storm that was so bad it was now rattling every window in the house.
Even indoors, claps of thunder kept interrupting their conversation.

‘May I go closer to the fire?’ Without waiting for an answer, she moved across the room, stripping off her wet gloves and hat as she went. She heard him speaking to the child.

‘Everything all right, May?’

‘Yes. I don’t like storms like this, though. I’m glad you’re home safely. Pearl said it was going to be a bad storm, so she went home early. I’ve been stirring the stew she left and making sure it doesn’t burn. Fred came in a couple of times to check I was all right, but I’m old enough to look after myself.’

A particularly loud boom of thunder made her stop speaking till it was over. ‘Fred said this house has weathered far worse storms than this one, so I felt safe, but you were outside in it.’

‘I got back before the worst. I had to post that parcel today and I wanted to pay my respects to Jud. The whole village was at the funeral.’ He gave her a quick hug and they both turned round to face Nell. ‘Mrs Greenhill got lost in the storm, so I brought her here to shelter with us tonight. I need to get her something warm to drink, and I’d like a cup of tea too.’

He pushed a kettle onto the hottest part of the kitchen range, threw another couple of pieces of wood onto the fire and left the front of the range open to let more heat out. When he’d done that, he pulled a chair closer to the fire. ‘Here you are, Mrs Greenhill. Get that wet coat off and sit down. You look ready to collapse.’