‘What is it, Dan?’ Susan was standing watching him. She had been stirring the pan on the stove and he hadn’t noticed her stop and straighten her back, letting the spoon drip on the floor for a moment while she studied him as he sat at the table staring straight ahead of him at the wall.
He jumped. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said, what is wrong?’
He shook his head. ‘Just tired, I reckon. One of the Suffolks came down today for a new shoe and I pulled my back a bit.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ll have to watch it; I must be getting old.’ He forced a smile as he looked up at her.
She wasn’t fooled. ‘I’ve never known a horse get the better of you, Daniel Smith, not once in all our years together. Are you sure that’s it?’
‘Of course that’s it, woman!’ He pushed back the chair and stood up angrily, swearing as a twinge of pain hit him afresh.
She turned back to the pan and stood with her back to him. ‘If you say so,’ she murmured.
He went over to her and put his arms round her. ‘Sorry, Mrs Smith! You’re right, it never happened before. It’s a frightening moment, like a cold wind down one’s neck. Father Time is watching me.’
She reached up and gave him a kiss on the lips. ‘Father Time will have to fight me for you, Dan,’ she smiled. ‘And this little one too.’ She patted her belly. ‘Now you sit down and get some broth inside you.’
Going back to the stove, she reached for the bowls, trying hard to push down her increasing sense of unease. Normally when he came in from the horses he went into the back yard to the pump and swilled the cold clean water over his head before he came in for his meal; this time he had already done it at the pump in the yard, and even the wetness of his hair and the smell of carbolic from the soap they kept in a box near the pump for when they needed to scrub up before performing surgery on one of the horses, couldn’t hide the smell of scent – exotic, foreign, musky – the smell she associated with Lady Emily, clinging to his hair, his skin, even his hands.
She set the bowl in front of him and pushed the bread board over. ‘I’ll get cheese and ham from the pantry.’
He didn’t react. Once more he was in a world of his own. She walked across to the pantry door and went in. Only there, in the privacy of her own cold, well-stocked shelves, did she let her tears fall where he couldn’t see her.
‘Susan?’ He had followed her at last. ‘What is it? Are you in pain?’
She shook her head, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve.
‘Then, my love, tell me. What is it?’ She heard the fear in his voice.
‘You think I can’t smell her on you, Dan?’ She turned at last to face him, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘She’s been all over you!’
He didn’t even try to deny it. He stood there in front of her, paralysed.
She waited for him to say something, but he just shook his head. He backed out of the small room and headed for the door, grabbing his coat and striding out without a backward glance. His food lay untouched on the table.
She lay awake a long time that night, conscious every second of the empty half of the bed beside her. She had been too proud to go after him, or ask any of the men if they had seen him. Before she went to bed she had heard the horses come in late from the field, going straight into the old barn to their stalls next to the lame mare, Bella. She pictured them reaching up to tug at the hay racks and searching the mangers for chaff and oats. Once she thought she heard one of the men calling Dan’s name, but maybe it had been her imagination. The yard grew quiet and dark, and at last she had gone up the narrow box staircase to their bedroom. Tired of watching the lazy shadows licking across the rafters of their bedroom ceiling she put out the lamp at last and lay under the covers shivering until at last she dozed off, her hand on the swell of her stomach where she felt, as she lay there alone, the comforting, fluttering signs of the new life inside her. He never came.
‘You think it was my kids?’ Jeff was leaning on the garden wall next to Leo, a glass of Adnams in his hand. Both men were pleasantly mellow.
‘Yup. It would be just like them.’ Leo was laughing. ‘Go on, deny it.’
‘Well. I can and I can’t.’ Jeff took another deep swig of beer. ‘On the one hand it would be just like the boys, you’re right. Right buggers, both of them, but on the other hand, if it happened today they weren’t here.’
Leo felt a sudden shiver of unease. ‘What do you mean, they weren’t here. Where were they?’
‘They went off last night after the barbecue with a mate who lives in Leiston. I made sure he was sober, then we slung them into his van. They’ll all have a lot more fun together than they would loitering round here, and I know they got there because their mother phoned this morning. Sharon doesn’t seem to appreciate what a couple of losers we’ve spawned.’
Leo looked pained. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Oh, but I do, mate. I’m sure they’ll be decent enough young men one day, but just now I’ve had it with both of them.’ He took another lingering sip and sighed with pleasure. ‘I love all my kids, Leo, but really they can be a right pain most of the time. You haven’t got kids, have you?’
Leo hesitated, then shook his head.
‘Lucky man.’ Jeff paused. ‘Look at Rosemary and Steve. I don’t think that woman has spoken to her daughter in twenty years.’
‘I didn’t know she had a daughter.’
‘Oh, yes, and grandkids. Sharon wormed the story out of her. She has never seen her own grandchildren! Can you credit that? Her daughter loathes her so much they won’t even ring her.’
Leo raised an eyebrow. ‘She is not exactly the cuddly nan one might wish for.’
Jeff gave a snort of laughter. ‘Good point.’ He took another sip of ale.
‘Which leaves us with the puzzle,’ Leo steered the conversation onto safer ground, ‘of who broke into The Old Barn and tried to scare Zoë and Ken by rearranging their furniture.’
Both men were silent for a while, contemplating the view.
‘Have you seen the ghost ship?’ Leo asked after several minutes.
‘Excuse me?’ Jeff looked at him, shook his head, and buried his face once more in his glass. ‘Did you say, ghost ship?’
‘A Viking longship which every so often drifts up-river here. Loads of people claim to have seen it over the years.’
‘Including you?’
‘Yes.’
‘And Zoë and Ken?’
‘Yes.’
Jeff put his empty glass down on the wall. ‘Have you ever thought, mate, that it might be something in the water, or ergot in the bread, or something?’
Leo laughed out loud. He picked up the glasses and headed for the kitchen. ‘Hang on while I get us a refill.’ He reappeared moments later with both glasses filled to overflowing. ‘You don’t ever get ghosts in The Summer Barn, then?’
Jeff laughed. ‘My kids would scare termites. You think ghosts would stand a chance?’
‘I’ll take that as a no.’
‘Too bloody right it’s a no.’
‘And you haven’t seen anything like this lying round your house?’ He reached into his pocket and produced half a dozen of the twisted misshapen nails.
Jeff frowned. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘OK, interrogation over.’ Leo leaned forward, his elbows on the warm moss-covered brick, staring down at the river. The sun had gone in and the shadows in the woods were darkening as he watched. He wondered for a brief moment if Ken had come back to the barns or if he was still alone on the
Lady Grace
, down there on the river. And if he was alone, Zoë too was alone, save for whoever or whatever was moving her chairs around.
Jeff downed the last of his beer. ‘I’d best be getting back. I promised Sharon and Jade we’d go to the cinema tonight.’
Leo took his glass off him. ‘Well, thanks for the company.’
‘You’ll be all right alone?’ For a moment Jeff sounded genuinely concerned. ‘We don’t want the Vicious Vikings to get you, do we?’ He let out a roar of laughter.
Leo gave a good-natured grin. ‘Nothing is going to happen that a ready meal and an evening in front of the telly can’t cure.’
‘Poor bastard. How sad is that!’ Jeff walked unsteadily up the path and headed for the gate.
For Jeff’s sake Leo hoped that Sharon would be driving when they went out.
Lady Emily kept Susan waiting for over an hour in the morning room at the Hall. When at last she came in her face was flushed, and there was mud on her riding habit. She gave Susan a cold stare. ‘So, why do you want to see me?’
‘I want to know what is going on with my husband.’ Susan had been so angry she could barely speak when she had first reached the Hall that morning, but now, after waiting alone in the cold room, with an unlit fire lying in the grate, she had calmed down. She held the other woman’s gaze challengingly.
‘I can’t imagine what you are talking about.’ Emily took off her gloves and threw them down on the table. ‘Your husband is the blacksmith, is he not?’
Susan narrowed her eyes. ‘You know full well who he is.’
‘And why would I want anything from my husband’s blacksmith?’ Emily managed to put so much scorn in the words that Susan blanched.
‘I wouldn’t know. All I do know is he is my husband and the father of my child, and we are happy, and I will fight for him.’
Emily didn’t say anything for a moment. Her look became calculated. ‘Poor man. What has he done to deserve such a harridan?’ She began to take off her hat and that joined the gloves on the table. ‘You work, I believe, in the dairy, on the estate. Clearly the job is too much for you. I will tell the farm manager that he is to lay you off from today so you may take life more easily.’
Susan felt her stomach lurch uncomfortably. ‘You can’t do that.’
‘I can. Please leave now.’
‘You can’t dismiss me!’
‘I can do what I like, Susan. That is the joy of being the lady of the manor.’ Emily smiled acidly. ‘Besides, I am not dismissing you, I am thinking of your condition.’ She looked pointedly at Susan’s stomach. ‘Surely you wouldn’t want to endanger your child’s welfare.’ With that she walked towards the door, leaving hat and gloves where she had dropped them. At the door she turned. ‘I want no more of these ridiculous accusations, Susan. As if I would let a common farrier touch me!’ She turned back and stalked out of the room.
Susan stood staring after her, stunned, listening to the sound of the woman’s heeled boots on the polished boards slowly recede into the distance. It was several minutes before she began to walk to the door and pulled it open. The corridor outside was empty. ‘Hello?’ Her voice was shaking. Surely there was someone there? No one came. Ignoring the servants’ side passage and the way to the back door she turned the wrong way, headed blindly through the green baize door and along the main corridor to the front hall. There was no sign of any servants; the house was completely silent.
Pulling open the front door she descended the broad flight of steps which led down to the carriage sweep, leaving the door open behind her, and began to walk unsteadily down the long drive. Her mind had gone blank. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. She had crossed her arms in front of her as she walked, hugging herself for comfort, but she didn’t see or hear anything around her. When she came to the place where the farm track led off the main drive just before it reached the park gates, she turned automatically towards the farm, dragging her boots in the dust.
She was nearly back at the forge cottage when she heard a shout behind her.
‘Susan! I saw you from the window!’ Molly was panting hard, her face perspiring as she ran. She had grabbed a shawl and thrown it over her shoulders, but she was still wearing her apron and cap. ‘Oh my, what a to-do! What did you say to Lady Emily?’
Susan stopped. She was tired and overwrought, and suddenly she couldn’t hold back the tears. ‘I told her to keep her nasty thieving hands off my husband!’
Molly was speechless. For several long seconds she stared at her sister. The breeze was strengthening and snatched at the women’s hair from beneath their caps as they stood in the middle of the track. ‘You said that?’ Molly whispered at last.
‘More or less. I can’t remember what I said.’ Susan brushed away the tears. ‘She said she would have me sent off from the dairy.’