Never Too Late (28 page)

“A couple of weeks later I had to go to see my GP. I’d had what I thought was flu for a couple of weeks, and it didn’t get any better. Then I got this rash on my palms and the soles of my feet. It was so embarrassing, so humiliating, when he told me just how he wanted to examine me, and why. The week waiting for the test results was hell. When I had to go back, Dad took time off work to go with me, I was in such a state. When I came out of the consulting room my face must have said it all as he never asked me about it, he just cuddled me in tight and let me cry. You see, Callum had given me syphilis and gonorrhoea. We’d only had sex twice but that was more than enough. It turns out he didn’t just prey on innocents like me. He had a taste for prostitutes too.”

Schez risked a quick glance at Adam before continuing. There was an expression of horror on his face, but she couldn’t stop and analyse his reaction, not just yet. She had to finish her tale now or she’d never manage it.

“My girlfriends had been very supportive when my ‘engagement’ was over. But then they found out I was on antibiotics, and why. I think one of their mothers, who worked in the surgery, gave away the details. All of a sudden I was a pariah. I was treated as though I was the biggest slut in the area. I was treated as though I was unclean, as though I should be ringing a bell in warning like a leper. And I agreed with them in a way. I felt unclean, sullied, used and discarded goods no longer fit for society. I couldn’t bear it and dropped out of school. All of a sudden I had no mother, no fiancé, no friends, no future. There was just me, Dad and Liz. I’ve hardly spoken to another man since then. I’ve never felt I could trust anyone, not until I met you. If you want to walk out of my life too I’ll understand.”

“Schez,” Adam’s voice was full of concern, “oh, my love, what an awful thing to happen to you.” He went over and swept her up into his arms then sat in her chair with her on his lap. He cuddled her in tight and rocked her as she started crying. “It wasn’t your fault,” he told her. “It doesn’t mean you’re unclean, or a slut, or anything absurd like that. You are perfect, and beautiful, and the best thing that’s ever happened in my life.”

“Really?” she sobbed. “You really truly don’t hate me now?”

“Really truly,” he soothed her. “I fell in love with you almost the moment I saw you and nothing will ever change that. All I need to know is do you think you could possibly learn to love me too?”

“Oh yes!” She kissed him fervently. “Oh yes yes yes!”

“In that case, Scheherezade,” he told her, “I won’t be your Celeborn but your Shahryar.”

*

Maggie pulled into the roadside and made a final check of the map. The signpost up ahead confirmed she needed one more left turn, then the second on the right should be the farm entrance.

“Nearly there, Deefor,” she said over her shoulder and he waved his tail in acknowledgement.

She felt very nervous about this visit. Tom and Sian were a lovely couple but it was one thing to know someone in a hospital and quite another to invite yourself to their home. All doubts were swept aside, though, the moment she pulled up in front of the farmhouse.

Three girls came running round the side of the house with two collies at their heels. Tom came out of the house and was at her side almost before she had climbed out of the car. He looked the picture of health and had a big grin.

“Maggie, my darling,” he greeted her, “you’ve come at last to give me solace. I’ve been sorely abused and henpecked these past weeks. Why could that wife of mine not have given me sons?”

Sian followed him closely. “He just doesn’t let up does he,” she commented with a sigh of mock exasperation. “Maggie, welcome to bedlam! It’s good to see you.”

“Thank you so much for inviting me,” Maggie said, smiling widely, all nervousness banished with such a boisterous welcome. There was a big hug from Tom and Sian kissed her.

“These are the harridans of daughters I’m plagued with,” Tom said, introducing first the elder one, Kate, then the younger daughter, Josie, “and that’s their friend Emma.”

“I thought my memory was at fault for a moment. Your father talked of you often,” Maggie told them, “but he only told me about two girls twisting him round his little finger. Keep it up girls!” She indicated the collies lying at their feet. “And these must be Floss and her naughty son Ben.”

“That’s right – but he’s learning fast,” Kate said proudly. “We’ve just been doing another training session with the geese.”

“The geese?” Maggie said surprised.

“Sure – if he can work the geese, the sheep and cattle will be easy peasy,” Josie told her.

Maggie went to the rear of her car. “This is my boy, Deefor,” she told them. “Is it OK to let him out? He’s fine with other dogs but I don’t know what he’ll make of geese if they’re still near by.”

Deefor stood in the back of the car, happy that Maggie was obviously among friends and in no danger, but still at attention until he could check out the situation fully.

“No problem. Let’s get the introductions over at once,” Tom reassured her. “He probably can’t wait to get out and stretch his legs a bit.”

Maggie opened the hatchback and signalled Deefor to her side. They, too, had benefited from training sessions together. Their relationship was so close that often Maggie found Deefor had picked up on her intentions without even the need for a hand signal. Spoken commands were now rare between them. He stood quietly with his shoulder touching her knee while the collies approached, tails wagging. Floss sniffed Deefor over while he stood proudly immobile. Ben crouched, front legs down to the ground, rear in the air, a single bark inviting Deefor to play.

The girls knew animals well enough to give Deefor time and space to settle. They gave him a quick scratch around the ears, which he accepted gracefully, then called Floss and Ben back to heel.

“Isn’t he quite the gentleman,” Tom commented admiringly. “And such a handsome fellow too. A perfect consort for such a lovely lady.”

Sian put a hand on Maggie’s back. “Come on in for a cuppa and a bit of cake. Deefor can go with the girls if he needs a comfort break.”

“A cup of tea would be lovely,” Maggie agreed, “but Deefor never leaves my side. His first owner left his life rather suddenly and I don’t think he quite believes yet that I won’t do the same.”

“Then we’ll enjoy the tea in the sunshine in the back garden,” Sian suggested. “I’m so glad you’ve come and given me an excuse to just sit and enjoy it for a while.”

“Take Deefor’s bed and Maggie’s bag up to her bedroom,” Tom instructed the girls, “and yes, you can claim payment of a Cornetto each from the freezer afterwards.”

Sian gave a quick tour of the house so that Maggie should feel oriented and comfortable in her new surroundings. On the way out to the garden Deefor sat and waited while she used the cloakroom, then stayed close as they went through to the kitchen.

“Help yourself to anything you want whenever you want it,” Sian told Maggie. “We lead such busy lives we sometimes tend to forget about things like looking after guests here.”

“I hope I’m not going to be in your way at all,” Maggie said.

Tom put his arm round her shoulder and led her out to the garden patio area. “Act like one of the family and you’ll be welcome as long as you want to stay. If I thought you were going to expect waiting on I’d never have invited you in the first place, so just be yourself and we’ll rub along together very nicely.”

Sian finished making the tea and brought it out. The wooden bench was shaded by a parasol that had been painted, with more enthusiasm than skill, with exotic flowers, dolphins and dogs. “The girls’ work, of course,” Sian told her, nodding up at it. “They got hold of the remains of the paint from decorating and decided to do some of their own.”

Josie piped up, “Well you did make Dad help with the decorating because you said the place needed brightening up, so we thought we’d better help too.”

“Luckily we caught them before they turned their attention to the fencing.” Tom play punched Josie’s nose and she retaliated with a dab of Cornetto to his nose, then ran away squealing as Tom jumped up to chase her.

“Grrrrr, you little hussy you, I’ll make you pay for that!”

The collies ran after them, barking wildly, and Maggie signalled Deefor that he could join in the game. Deefor bounded after them and soon the chase had turned into a game of football with a well chewed, torn and deflated ball. Tom returned to the table grinning broadly.

Sian shook her head. “You know, Maggie,” she said, “I often think I have three children, not two.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” Tom asserted.

They spent a very relaxed afternoon together and Maggie helped prepare the evening meal. The ham was excellent, from one of the pigs Tom raised, and the new potatoes and salad were from their kitchen garden. Sian also made her own delicious bread and pickles.

“I’m one of the lucky ones,” Sian told Maggie. “I love being home to raise my family and I have time to indulge all my homemaking passions. I’m not artistic but I still have creative urges, so I channel them into things to eat and things for the home, like those candles and cushion covers. Best of all is that I still feel I’m contributing to the household income as we have a stall at the monthly farmers’ market - I offload all the extras there.”

“Did you make that wonderful patchwork quilt on my bed?” Maggie wanted to know.

“I did,” Sian told her with gentle pride. “Just about anything you see in this house made from any form of fabric or wool is my work.”

“It’s exquisitely made,” Maggie praised her. “Something like that is the stuff of family heirlooms. Do you take commissions at all? I know I’d like one and so would several of my friends so if you have the time and inclination we’d pay well for something of that quality.”

Sian looked surprised. “Do you know, I’d never considered doing anything like that for sale? It’s well worth considering.”

Tom was enthusiastic about the idea. “With farming in the state it is, if you’re small time like me and not one of these huge companies, diversification is the only way to survive. We don’t get all the government support that the French do. Another string to our bow would be most useful.”

“Especially if it’s no extra work for you,” Sian teased him.

Maggie had already been shown the half completed conversion of an old kennel block to a holiday let and was pleased to have been able to contribute another idea to help the family finances.

“Don’t you get started on your politics, now,” Sian warned him. “Maggie didn’t come all this way to discuss the inequalities and injustices of the European situation.”

“I won’t,” Tom appeased her, “I know we have other things to discuss.”

They turned to Maggie and she kicked off her sandals to rub her toes into Deefor’s fur as he lay at her feet. She often found contact with him helped marshal her thoughts.

“I take it this visit is not about Iain as you seem confident he’s well enough for you to cope when he comes home Monday,” Tom said.

“No,” Maggie agreed. “There’s no problem with his recovery. He came out of the coma very quickly once he was moved to Chetmere. There are some memory and concentration issues, and he needs physical rehab as well as mental exercises to get full functionality back, but outpatient appointments are all arranged. They’re very confident he will make a full recovery, so no, that’s not what I want your advice about.”

She still needed to face Iain about his past infidelities, and she still needed to work out what their future as a couple would be, but that would have to wait for a while. It was still too raw and personal an issue to share with anyone, even this kind and caring couple.

“I suppose you’ve seen the news reports about the eco-warriors in Milward Farm,” she asked them.

“Yet another farm gone under and developers moving in for the kill, eager to make more filthy lucre from building over prime land,” Tom said glumly. “This country’s going to end up one big housing estate. Whatever happened to green belt restrictions? Too many people prepared to take backhanders, I wouldn’t mind betting.”

Maggie took a deep breath. “In this case the developer taking illegal shortcuts is my husband.”

Tom flushed in embarrassment. “Sorry, Maggie, I didn’t mean…”

She stopped him quickly. “It’s OK, Tom. That’s potentially what I’m going to find out though.”

“No!” Sian and Tom gasped together.

Maggie nodded. “I can’t be sure at this stage, such things obviously don’t go through the normal accounting procedures, but I’ve gone over what project paperwork there is and there are too many discrepancies to be dismissed lightly. I’ve discussed it with Iain’s second in command, Richard, and what details we’ve been able to garner are leading us to the conclusion that it is not all above aboard.

“The main issue seems to be whether the wood on the land should have had some kind of protection order or not. I believe the farm as a whole used to be a designated Environmentally Sensitive Area, but that ten year contract expired a couple of years ago. I don’t know if it now ought to be a triple S I, a Site of Special Scientific Interest, or if the campaigners are using that argument in their court battle. My guess at the moment, a guess based on certain accounting irregularities and project plan dates, is that certain payments have been made to certain people to delay legal process until it was too late, until the wood had been clear cut.”

Tom sat back in his chair, a look of total amazement on his face. “Well I never! You hear of these kinds of cases but you never expect to have someone you know involved in it.”

“I could be totally wrong here,” Maggie said, “but I have an awful feeling I’m not. Richard tells me the company has been struggling financially for quite a while. It’s become very cutthroat out there and I know Iain well enough to know he won’t be thwarted in what he wants to do. Not by anyone. Nor would his pride allow him to downsize his operations until the climate picks up.” Maggie flinched as she thought of just how Iain had proved to her how secretive he could be, and how no-one’s feelings and opinions counted more to him than his own.