Halversham (2 page)

Although Andy’s father had long ago turned his back on Halversham, Patricia gently steered her husband back to his roots after they married. She would suggest family trips to Halversham during holidays, and encouraged her husband to visit his sister no matter how brief the stay. In fact, Patricia fell in love with the countryside almost instantly when Paul took her there for the first time. She walked along river banks, marveled at the vast farms, and fed the stray dogs that had made a permanent home at the foothills. After several visits to the place, she convinced her husband to buy a small cottage, and Paul purchased for his wife a Tudor-style farmhouse not far from his sister’s home. Patricia promptly commissioned an interior designer and had the place redecorated and landscaped to include a small herb garden in the back. Since then, Patricia would visit the countryside whenever her husband went on business trips, and Andy often tagged along. After Patricia became ill, Aunt Magda took over tending to the property with the help of a hired gardener and housekeeper.

The Porsche slowed down, made a turn, and hit a pothole. Paul sped up as they hit I-95 and Andy looked out the window while Paul pulled out his phone, called his personal assistant, and spoke through the speakers. He was swiftly moving on after burying his wife, while Andy drifted into the past. Paul’s call to his assistant lasted fifteen minutes, during which he discussed the details of his trip to San Francisco, and then made half a dozen more calls to various partners and investors. The steady hum of the engine and his father’s dull voice lulled Andy to sleep. He dreamed of his mother, walking along the river in Halversham, holding a sheer scarf above her head as the wind blew in strong gusts.

The car hit another pothole, jolted, and rudely woke Andy from his sweet slumber. The landscape around them had changed dramatically as they drove down Halversham’s main street. He pushed up the cuff of his shirt to look at his watch. It was nearly four in the afternoon—he had slept for almost five hours.

“Are you hungry?” Paul asked. “I stopped by McDonald’s but you were asleep, so I ordered you something to go. It’s in the back seat if you want to grab a bite.”

Andy glanced back and found the familiar brown paper bag. His stomach growled. The car made a turn, and Mr. Doyne’s farm came into view as Paul navigated the winding dirt road, climbing up a small hill before passing a thick forest. Andy took a large bite from his Big Mac and spotted a young man crouching by the roadside. He wore nothing but a pair of brown shorts and watched curiously as the car crept along the narrow path. Andy craned his neck to look at him, and for a brief moment they came face-to-face, separated only by the car’s window.

“Is that Mr. Doyne’s son?” Paul asked.

“Don’t know,” Andy said, still watching the young man through the side-view mirror. He finished the last of his fries and Coke just as they turned into Aunt Magda’s front yard. Andy wadded up the wrapper, stuffed it back in the brown bag, and tossed it in the back seat. Outside, roosters and chickens flapped their wings as Paul parked in Aunt Magda’s compound. Jetta and Toddy barked in excitement, tails wagging.

Paul opened the door and stepped out as Aunt Magda came rushing out of the house, wearing a big smile and a faded floral dress. She had lost some weight, but was still stocky with strong, masculine features. A stranger would not be able to guess the two were siblings.

“Hey, Paulie. It’s been so long. How are you?” Aunt Magda said, spreading her arms for a hug. Paul easily enveloped her in his tall frame as Andy watched from the car to give the two of them some time alone.

“I’m fine, Mag. How are you doing?”

“I’m good. Look at you! You’re more handsome than ever,” she said, smiling fondly. And then, in a more serious tone, “I’m so sorry about Patricia. She was such a wonderful woman.”

“Yes, she was.” Paul shrugged. “You didn’t come for the funeral.”

“Well… I… I wanted to,” Aunt Magda stammered, wringing her hands. “I really did, Paulie, but you know how things are here.”

“How’s he treating you?”

Her eyes shifted and she gave a sad smile. “The same way he’s always treated me.”

“I don’t understand why you’re still with him. He’s...”

“Is that Andy right there?” Aunt Magda cut her brother off, her face brightening as she spotted Andy in the car. Paul turned and nodded as his son got out. “Oh, my. It is Andy. He’s all grown and handsome. Just like you.” She smiled at her brother. “Come here, Andy.” Andy walked toward them and paused in front of Aunt Magda so she could take a look at him.

“Hello, Aunt Magda. How are you?” They hugged.

“I’m fine. I’m so sorry about your mother.”

“Yeah.”

“Look at me, keeping you out in the yard. Come on, come inside.” Aunt Magda waved them in, and Andy and Paul followed her into the small cozy cottage with a thatched roof, chimney, and a fireplace. She pointed at the couch, motioning for them to sit. “Can I get you two a drink?”

“I can’t stay for long, Mag. I have to drop Andy off at the farmhouse before I head back to the city,” Paul said.

“You’re leaving right away?”

“Yes. I have an early flight to San Francisco tomorrow.”

Aunt Magda’s jaw dropped and her eyes became wide. She glanced at Andy and then back at her brother.

“Can’t you postpone your trip, Paulie? This boy just lost his mother.”

“I can’t. I already canceled three important meetings when Pat died. My business is in trouble. I have to go this time.” He paused. “I was hoping you could keep an eye on things while Andy stays at the farmhouse for a month.”

“You’re going to leave him alone at the farmhouse for a month?” Paul nodded. “Nonsense! Andy, you’ll stay here with us.”

“It’s okay, Aunt Magda. I’ll be all right at the farmhouse. I want to spend some time doing the things my mom used to do. Tending to her garden and stuff.”

“Of course,” Aunt Magda said, nodding.

“But I promise I’ll come and visit you every day.”

“You’ll have to. I’ll cook for you and get some meat on those bones,” she said, tapping on his arm.

“You don’t have to trouble yourself, Mag. Don’t we have a cook and housekeeper at the farmhouse? Karl something?”

“Oh, I had to fire Karl Maine when I caught him carting away some of the silverware in the kitchen. Gave him an earful, too, but not before getting back every piece he stole.”

“So we don’t have a housekeeper anymore?”

“I hired Piffy Dawson. She does a terrific job.”

“Great. So she can take care of things while Andy’s there.” Paul smiled. “Where’s Matt and Corrine?”

“Matt’s still out. Corrine, well, I don’t know where she is. She’s hardly home. Leaves in the morning and comes back really late. She dropped out of school three years ago.” Aunt Magda sighed. Corrine it seemed, hadn’t changed.

Paul nodded, a blank expression on his face. “Well, maybe she’ll be home more often now that Andy’s in town.”

“Yeah. Maybe he can talk some sense into her for wasting time wandering about.”

Paul nodded again. A second later, he looked at his watch and said, “I should get going. I have to take Andy over and it’s getting late.”

“You should come another time and stay for dinner. Both of you. You never stay long enough for coffee to get cold.”

Paul laughed and rose. “I will, Mag. Another time. I just have to settle some things in San Francisco.”

“Good,” Aunt Magda said. “Kids grow up real fast, Paulie. You should make the best of the years you have with your boy.” She touched Andy’s cheek and smiled. “Don’t make the same mistake you did with Pat.”

Paul’s eyebrows came together in a wrinkle. For once, his chilly disposition was chipped by Aunt Magda’s wise words. Seconds later, he hugged his sister and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Aunt Magda. I’ll come by tomorrow.” Andy rose and hugged the stocky woman again.

“I can send a bowl of porridge later if you like.”

“That’s okay. I just ate on the way here. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed early.”

“Poor child. You must be tired. I stocked up the refrigerator so you can have some milk and cake if you get hungry. If you need anything else, just ask Piffy. She’ll be there when you arrive.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Father and son exited the cottage and headed for the car, followed by two cackling geese on their heels. Aunt Magda was right behind them.

“Andy, can you please wait in the car while I speak to your Aunt Magda for a minute?” Paul said.

“Sure.” Andy got in the car, closed the door, and watched the exchange between the two.

His father said something to Aunt Magda, and she shook her head with eyes closed. Paul spread his hands before him, trying to reason with her about something, but it seemed like she wouldn’t hear of it. She looked defiant, but in a gentle, motherly way. The disappointment on his father’s face was plain to see. Finally, he slipped his hand into his coat and removed a thick envelope. Aunt Magda shook her head insistently, refusing the envelope, but Andy’s father clamped it in her hands with a stern look. Moments later, he hugged his sister one more time, kissed her forehead, and headed for the car as she watched.

Although Andy couldn’t hear a single word, he knew exactly what had transpired. He had been listening to bits of gossip about Uncle Matt for a while now, so it wasn’t difficult to make a reasonably accurate assumption. Based on what Andy had gathered so far, his father had been pleading with Aunt Magda to leave Uncle Matt for years, but she always refused. He even offered to get her a divorce lawyer at his own expense, but she chided him, saying, “We Catholics don’t get divorced.” She explained things away with, “Every marriage has its problems,” and “It was my fault,” and “I have to make sure Corrine has a father figure.”

Paul had heard it all before, but there was nothing he could do. She was adamant about staying with Matt. In the end, all he could do was give her money so that she and Corrine could at least take care of themselves.

The Porsche pulled out of Aunt Magda’s yard and snaked along dirt roads again. The sun was heading for the horizon, and both of them were clearly exhausted by the long drive. Paul didn’t slip his sunglasses back on this time, exposing the crease on his forehead. He kept a knuckle close to his lips, deep in thought until they reached the farmhouse five minutes later. Andy grabbed his bag and got out of the car with his father.

“Are you coming in?”

“No. It’s getting late. I should go.”

“Goodbye then.” Andy turned and headed for the farmhouse.

“Andy,” his father called, and Andy glanced back. Paul stood with his hands tucked in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he cleared his throat. “If you like, we can go on a holiday somewhere when I get back.”

“Yeah, sure,” Andy said without a trace of excitement. He had stopped taking his father’s proposals and promises seriously a long time ago.

“Okay.” Paul cleared his throat again. “Maybe you can look online and make a list of places that interest you.”

“Sure.”

“Good. If you need anything, call me. Stay out of trouble, and please look out for your Aunt Magda.”

“I will.”

Andy watched the car until the taillights disappeared. Then he turned around, headed up the stairs, and pressed the doorbell.

A woman opened the door. “Hello, Andy.”

“You must be Piffy.”

“That’s right.”

Piffy Dawson was a widow in her fifties, looking every last day of her age with wide hips and grey hair hoisted up in a neat bun. She looked matronly in a short white dress that had seen better days. “You look tired. Can I get you anything?” she asked as soon as Andy entered the house.

“No, thanks,” he said.

The house was exactly the way it had been when his mother was around. Warm lights filled the front hall, and roses and lilies stood in pretty vases on the coffee tables and main table, releasing a wonderful aroma. Aunt Magda and Piffy had done a wonderful job of keeping the place clean and tidy in the three years the Monaghans had not visited.

“Your Aunt Magda told me a lot about your mother, God bless her soul. I tried to keep the place as your mother liked it. But I never knew her, so I don’t really know if it matches,” Piffy said. “Do you like it?”

“It looks perfect. Just how it was when she was around.”

The woman smiled. “Would you like something to eat? I made some stew and kept it in the fridge just in case. See, I live down the road about five minutes from here. So it’s real easy for me to pop over.”

“No thanks, Piffy. I’m going to take a shower and go straight to bed. You can go home if you want to.”

“Here, let me take you to your room.”

Andy grabbed his bag and followed her. His bedroom hadn’t changed much either. The floor had been polished and there were wild orchids in a vase by the window. Andy smiled as Piffy closed the door and left. Alone at last, he removed the jacket he’d been wearing since morning and sat on the bed. Through the window he watched branches dance in the warm summer breeze and listened to the wind howling for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. Seconds later, his shoulders shook and he wept.