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`Who? You don't mean ...?`

Daniel turned towards him, nodding his head vigorously, Ì do mean ... yes, the lot of them.`

`No, never! Mr Daniel, never! Leaving you here on your own? Never!`

`Well, it appears that the missis's daughter has bought the place for her mother and they're all settled in and that's that.Ìt seemed quite natural that he should talk to Alex like this. He had been brought up with Alex and Barney; they seemed to be part of the family. And in any case they would soon have heard of it when, at the end of next week, the tribe didn't come scrambling through the farm, in and out of the byres, the barns, the tack room, yelling their excitement at the events that they had experienced in Ireland and also of being back home.

But that wouldn't happen now, so the men would have known sooner or later.

`What you goin' to do? I mean, how you goin' to manage?`

Daniel seemed to have to make an effort to pull himself to his feet. He hadn't asked himself that question yet. But now he answered it by saying, Òh, I'll get someone in to see to the house and do a bit of cooking. Anyway, I've managed well enough during the last few weeks.`

Ì would never have believed it. The mistress ... I thought she loved this place.`

Ìt wasn't her home country, Alex. At bottom she's always longed to be back there.`

Ànyway,Àlex smiled now, ìt'll give you an excuse to go over to Ireland for a holiday and see them.

You've never had a holiday, not to my knowledge.`

`No; nor to my knowledge either, Alex. It's a good idea, and it's something to look forward to.`

Àye; aye, it is; it will be. Well, I must away and get that one down to the smithy's. I've never known an animal go through so many shoes as that one. Barney says it's vanity, but he would, wouldn't he?Àlex went out on a laugh and left Daniel standing by the table folding up the letter. 475

Slowly, he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to what had been Maggie Ann's room. He opened the door and looked in. There was no feeling of her presence left. Then, one after the other he looked into each of the other rooms.

When he opened the study door the problems held between the pages of the ledger and the letters on the desk seemed to fly at him. And he closed the door with a bang.

When he entered the drawing-room he did not look about but went to the fire and, taking up the bellows, he blew the small ring of cinders into a flame. Suddenly, he sat down on the couch and, placing his elbows on his knees, brought his head down to rest in his hands; now he had the strongest desire to cry.

And he did cry. The tears welled in his eyes and, although he wiped them quickly away, they were there again rolling on to his cheeks. And this time he let them come. After a while they ceased and he lay against the back of the couch feeling as he had done years ago, when he used to cry in bed over the loss of his mother, or more so for that which she had withheld from him during her lifetime. But Moira's arrival had compensated for that, and his

burgeoning love for Frances seemed to completely cure his earlier loneliness. But now, with the loss of both, his life ahead did appear as a desert. Even Janie, his friend, his only real friend, she, too, would be going to Holland next week with her father. Her mind seemed to be made up.

This thought brought him to his feet. He was going to miss Janie. Oh, yes, he would miss Janie. She was the only one he seemed to be able to talk to these days. Their friendship and their chaffing of each other had blossomed into a kind of intimacy. He spoke to her in a way he could never have done to Moira, because, strangely, Moira would never have understood such backchat. And now, once Janie was in Holland, she would likely marry that fellow.

God! Everyone seemed to be flying off at tangents. It was as if his life had suddenly exploded and there were the fragments of it, scattering far and wide.

Well, what was to stop him from travelling to a different country. He could sell up and move to Ireland and be with the family again, or he could go ... But why go to Holland? Janie would be married and settled there.

He went quickly from the room and 477 upstairs and to his bedroom. The wash-hand basin still held the scummed water he had used yesterday, and the slop pail was almost three quarters full. Early this morning he had washed and shaved downstairs in the kitchen. With an impatient movement he emptied the dirty water into the pail, then carried it downstairs.

There was now a growing anger inside him and it was mainly directed at Moira. Plan his life, she had said. Run a farm from five in the morning till last light and later, seven days a week; and see to a house like this, cook his own food, clean the place ... She shouldn't have done it; it was unfair of her.

He could get someone in, he had said. Well, he'd have to, wouldn't he? And a strange woman, one from the village who would tittle-tattle, and while he was out of the house, most of the day as he was, she'd help herself here and there. Oh, he knew what would happen. Even Rosie hadn't been above that: cutlery had disappeared from the dining-room, and the children had got the blame for taking it outside for picnics.

He went into the scullery and pumped the sink

full of water and sluiced not only his face but his head too, as if that might cool and clear his brain.

Following on this he went back to the farm, but stayed only a couple of hours before he was back in the kitchen cooking a meal, the while telling himself that, at least for once, Janie would have a decent meal when she called. He even rubbed some pig's fat into flour as he had seen Moira do, made it into a dough and put it into a dish ready to go into the oven about half an hour before the pork would be cooked.

Then he went into the drawing-room and, using the sofa table again, he covered it with a white cloth and set two places for a meal. Finally, he poured himself out a larger than usual glass of whisky and sat before the fire sipping it and waiting.

At half past twelve the dinner was ready and he served it up on plates which he then kept hot in the lower oven. But when, by half past one, Janie had not put in an appearance he took out one of the plates and, sitting at the corner of the kitchen table, he ate his meal, chewing almost viciously on each bite.

When three o'clock came and there was no longer any chance of her appearing, for she wouldn't drive back

in the dark, he again took to wandering about the 479 house, until, thoroughly exasperated, he clashed the kitchen door behind him and made for the farm, telling himself he had to talk to somebody, even if it was only the animals, or he would do something stupid, silly, like breaking something.

Janie arrived about half past eleven on the Sunday morning. He was returning from the farm and walking into the house yard when he saw the trap approaching. And as she drew it to a standstill she smiled at him, saying, Ìsn't it a lovely day? There's a promise of spring in the air and it's not March yet.`

He forced himself to say politely, `There's been snow in March before now.`

`Yes. Yes, I suppose so.` She had got down from the trap and, turning the pony, she led it into the open barn, saying, Ì won't take him out of the shafts, because I can't stay long.`

Òh well, nice seeing you. Goodbye.`

She turned a quick glance on him, then said, Òh, well, if you feel like that I could make it goodbye now.`

His head drooped and he bit on his lip before apologising, saying, Ì'm ... I'm sorry, Janie, it's how I'm feeling at the moment. And ... and I thought you might have called in yesterday.`

Òh, I was in Newcastle most of the day, shopping. You know we're off a week tomorrow--`

Ìt's all settled then?`

Òh, yes, yes.` She was in the kitchen now. Ì told you.`

`You indicated, but you didn't seem to be sure.`

Òh, well, I'm sure now.` She half-smiled at him; then her eyes narrowing, she said, `What is it? Has something happened?`

`Yes, you could say that something has happened. I'll tell you about it in a minute. But first I must say that there is nothing in the cupboard to eat today.`

Òh, well, that isn't surprising. I've never come here since Moira's been away and found much to eat.`

`Well, there was something yesterday.`

`Yes?`

`Yes. Roast pork, vegetables, and a

suet pudding, and as much bottled fruit 481 as you could have eaten.` There was a slight smile on his face now. But hers was quite unsmiling as she said, Òh, Daniel, I'm sorry. I really am. And you went to all that trouble. Oh, no wonder you're vexed.`

Òh, I'm not vexed about that,` he lied gallantly; then he said, Ì got a shock yesterday morning. Oh, well, come on in. I suppose you can stay for half an hour to hear my news.`

`Well, I can give you twice as long as that, because if I am to judge by your face and your manner it will take an hour or so.`

She walked before him out of the kitchen and into the drawing-room and there, laughingly she said, Ì see you've taken the ashes out. That's something. You're learning.`

Ìt's just as well, as things are.`

`What do you mean, as things are?` She had seated herself on the couch.

`Well, I won't try to explain it, so just hang on a minute and I'll go and get the written word.`

She watched him hurry out, and then looked about

her. There was a smear of dust everywhere and an air of untidiness. Nothing seemed to be in its right place. That the cushions on the couch hadn't been plumped up for some time was evident, because she found she was sitting in a hollow.

He was soon back and holding out a sheet of paper with writing on both sides. Taking it from him, she began to read. But she hadn't got very far when she looked up at him, saying, Òh no. Oh no.Ànd as she turned the page, her head was still shaking. Then when she had finished she let the letter drop to her knees and, looking up at him where he was standing with his back to the fire, she said, Òh, Daniel; it must have come as a terrible shock. Oh, I could never imagine her doing that.`

`You know something, Janie? Looking back, I think it must have been in her mind before she left, because I've found she took all her little trinkets with her. I went through her dressing-table yesterday.

And all the children's clothes; the chests in their rooms were empty. I had wondered why there were so many boxes. But then, of course, I thought, there were seven of them.`

Òh, I'm so sorry, Daniel, really so

sorry. What are you going to do? I mean 483 about running the house?`

Òh, I'll have to get someone in, I suppose. But the thought did cross my mind that I would sell up, and since everybody else is going to strange lands, I'd pick one for myself; she's gone to Ireland, you're going to Holland; there's a world left for me to choose from.`

`Yes, I suppose so. But I always imagined that, in spite of all the setbacks you've had, you love this house and this farm too much to leave it. And given a chance and some decent weather, it could be successful again.`

`For what?`

`What do you mean, for what?`

`Just what I say. Successful again, for what? For whom?`

`Well, that will be up to you, won't it?` Her voice was flat, unemotional.

And he looked at her as he said, `Yes. Yes, you're right; but to tell you the truth, at the moment I don't know which end of me is up. I've really gone through the gamut of emotions since that letter came yesterday morning. For a time I hated her. Oh, and what I said about you when I had to dump that lovely dinner, and it was a lovely dinner`--he was smiling faintly now--ànd, as I say who shouldn't, I made a good hand at it.`

`Did you eat my share too?`

`No, it went in the pig bucket.Ànd he almost added, Where I wanted to put you at the time, because you had disappointed me, let me down, as it were.

He now sat down at the far end of the couch and, staring towards the fire, he said, Ìt's odd, you know, that when one person decides to make a change in their lifestyle it can affect so many. Mine, for instance, has been turned topsy-turvy, for I don't know what line I'm going to take from here.`

Her voice was quiet as she said, `Give yourself a few days to get used to the idea that they are not coming back, and likely things will fall into place. Anyway, as I see it, and I think I am seeing it in the same way as Moira says in her letter, it's leaving you free to run your own life. You'll no longer be saddled with her or the children. No matter how dear they were to you, they would have remained a tie.

I think she has taken all

this into consideration.` 485

`Yes, perhaps you're right. But there are some ties that one doesn't want to loosen.` He swivelled round on the couch now and asked abruptly, Àll your arrangements are made, then?`

`Yes, Father is very good at making arrangements--I suppose he's had plenty of practice--and weeks beforehand the tickets are bought, the seats are booked, the hotel reservation is made, and he even plans out the places of interest to be visited.` She pulled a slight face here, saying, Ì think Mother gets a little weary of the tourist arrangements, because her idea of a holiday is lying in a deck chair on a warm beach, not traipsing round picture galleries and museums and such like. So very often she does just that, which is why I've got to take her place.`

`You like touring round galleries and such?`

Ìn moderation, but this time I think the pattern will be a little different for, some of the time, we'll be out of the Hague district and on Pieter's estate. He has a place about thirty miles out. Mother will enjoy it because she finds it very restful there.`

Òh, yes, yes ... Would you like a cup of

tea?`

`Yes, I wouldn't mind. But who's making it, me or you?`

Òh, I'll do it, as it will likely be for the last time I'll have the privilege of serving my friend with tea. I can imagine you have a very busy week ahead of you.`

`Likely. Likely.`

He waited as if he expected her to say, Oh, I'll be over during the week sometime, but when she didn't speak, he went out of the room; and looking towards the far window, she repeated to herself, The last time I'll likely have the privilege of serving my friend with tea. Why did she suffer it? It had been evident for so long. There was hardly a time she came in this house but he called her his dear friend. It was as if he was emphasising `friendànd no further. And she understood. Then why did she insist on piling on the agony? For that's what she did with every visit here. If she was strong enough this could be the last time she would look on him.