Read The Healing Stream Online

Authors: Connie Monk

The Healing Stream (5 page)

‘A crippled child? That’s rotten.’ Then, his thoughts moving on, ‘I can’t hang around, I’ve got Vickers the vet coming this afternoon.’

‘What for?’

‘One of my old ladies seemed to be limping when I drove them in for milking yesterday afternoon. This morning she’s worse, so I’ve left her in the shed and asked Vickers to take a look at her.’

So talk of the newcomers were overtaken by routine events. Tessa took no part in the conversation but she was aware of the companionable atmosphere. She offered to clear away the lunch so that Naomi could go with Richard to await the vet and so the hours of Saturday moved gently on just as every other day of the week.

On her trips to the village Tessa heard the locals talking about the work going on at Fiddlers’ Green, but she wasn’t terribly interested. One day she noticed men were trimming the overgrown rhododendrons, and a few days later workmen were replacing the long, curved gravel drive with crazy paving. Remembering what Richard had said about the work that would be needed to put the place in order, she decided that the new owner must indeed be a man of wealth. But her interest was so slight that she even forgot to tell Richard and Naomi what she had seen.

Once again it was Vera who brought Naomi up to date on the progress there, polishing the church brass with extra vigour as her excitement increased.

‘They’ve moved in, the new folk at Fiddlers’ Green. I thought, well there’s no one living near them, no one to welcome them among us so to speak. I must be their closest neighbour, me being at the end of the terrace.’ Vera lived in the first of the six council houses. ‘So I put on my best and went calling. The housekeeper opened the door to my knock; a frosty-faced woman if ever there was, and when I told her who I was and why I’d come calling, wouldn’t you think she would have had the manners to shake me by the hand and introduce herself?? Oh, no, Madam High and Mighty just told me to step inside and she’d see if Mr Masters – that’s his name you remember, Julian Masters is how he introduced himself to me – was free. Seems he was and, give him his due, he wasn’t as stuck up as the housekeeper, Miss Sherwin. “Thank you, Miss Sherwin, that’ll be all,” he told her when she took me through to him. I could see from the way she hovered that she meant to hang around, so I gave an inward chuckle when he gave her her marching orders. Well, anyway, to get back to what I was telling you. He was very polite – even thanked me for taking the trouble to call and welcome him, but underneath his correct sort of manner I got the feeling that he didn’t intend to get himself involved with us locals. Not exactly too big for his boots – no, like I say he was quite cordial, but there was something in his manner that sort of put a barrier up and you knew he’d go so far and no further. I didn’t get a glimpse of the crippled daughter. Remember I told your aunt it was a man and his child. But maybe she’s not just a kid. If she is, he must have been getting on when he sired her. He’s not old, mind you, I’d say about the age of you and me, or maybe nearer the sixty mark. Now then, how does that look?’ She carried the cross back to its stand and stood a few paces away to admire her handiwork.

‘She may be quite grown up. If she were a child you’d think he would have a nanny to look after her,’ Naomi said, her mind more on where to find a place to put the final rose without throwing out the balance of the arrangement.

‘Well, I dare say we shall find out sooner or later. Anyway, like I said, I only saw the man. Don’t know if he’s a widower or if his wife went walkabouts as they say. Good looking, very distinguished more than handsome, nicely cut iron-grey hair and a moustache that bit whiter. Oh, well, if he doesn’t want to hobnob with the likes of us, that’s his loss.’

And just as she had a few weeks previously, Naomi laughingly reported Vera’s welcome attempt when she got home to the farm.

‘You’ve got to give Vera a point for trying,’ Richard said, smiling as he imagined kind-hearted, harmless and gossipy Vera returning home to hang away ‘her best’.

‘There was an advertisement in the
Western Weekly News
this morning. It’s for various positions at Fiddlers’ Green,’ Tessa told them. ‘They want an under-gardener and a general household assistant I think they called it. And, listen to this –’ she opened the paper at the right page, thanks to her having dog-eared the corner – ‘someone to act as a carer/companion to a partially handicapped girl. Must have sense of humour and be able to drive. Marlhampton Three Seven Two.’ She looked expectantly at the others. ‘I thought I’d ring and try to get an interview. They may not like me—’

‘More to the point, you may not like them,’ Richard corrected. ‘I can’t see you settling to spend your days working for someone cold and courteous.’ With eyebrows raised he looked at the niece who had become very dear to Naomi and him in the few months she had been with them. It wasn’t likely she would accept the job if her opinion of this man Masters was the same as Vera’s. ‘Presumably it’s not a living-in position – it doesn’t actually say.’

‘I’d come home each evening and, Aunt Naomi, I’d help you here, honestly. I haven’t got the job yet anyway, but if I should get it I promise it wouldn’t mean that I didn’t do my share here.’

‘Never mind doing your share.’ Naomi realized how empty the place would be now without Tessa. ‘It’s your company we shall miss. But if you think you might enjoy the job – and a lot depends on what the girl is like – then fingers crossed that you get it.’

‘And they’ll be lucky to have you,’ Richard added.

With Richard’s opinion echoing in her mind Tessa made her phone call that afternoon, answered by someone she had no doubt was the unwelcoming housekeeper.

‘The carer, you say? You’ve wasted no time; the papers have scarcely had time to be delivered. Hold the line while I enquire when you can be seen.’ Then, after what must have been the briefest of words, ‘Mr Masters will see you at four o’clock. Give me your name. He’s a busy man so just see you’re here sharp.’

‘I’m not in the habit of being late for appointments,’ Tessa answered in her most frigid tone. ‘My name is Richards, Miss Richards.’

At one minute to four she rang the bell to be greeted by a woman whose appearance in no way matched her manner. A small, thin person, with grey hair knotted to the top of her head. But when she spoke there was no doubt who she was. ‘You’ll be the appointment. This way.’ Then, hardly giving Tessa time to get through the door, she led the way down the corridor to where Julian Masters was waiting. ‘The four o’clock appointment, sir.’

‘Thank you, Miss Sherwin.’ The man at the desk nodded his head, dismissing her, then, standing up, turned to Tessa holding out his hand. ‘Miss Richards, I believe.’

‘That’s right. Tessa Richards.’ Tessa answered with a friendly smile. ‘How do you do, Mr Masters. Is this your daughter? I imagined it would be a child.’ She had never known what it was to be shy and now she turned to the girl who sat in a wheelchair by the side of the desk. ‘You must be about the same age as me.’

Her friendly introduction was met with a frown. ‘Don’t know how old you are. I’m eighteen.’

‘I can give you a year then. I shall be twenty in April.’

Appearance had always been important to Tessa and she sensed that in part the disabled girl’s scowl was based on envy that she could breeze into their lives, well dressed and with her face made up to flatter and not leave her looking like a painted doll.

‘I hoped someone around Deirdre’s age would apply. I shall leave you two for a few minutes to give you a chance to get to know one another. Then perhaps, Miss Richards, you will wait outside while Deirdre tells me whether from her point of view you are the answer. After that we’ll discuss remuneration, hours – and, of course, whether you are willing to take the post.’ With a slight nod of his head he left them.

‘That was a good idea,’ Tessa said. ‘We have a chance to talk and see if we would get on. Who goes first, you or me?’

‘Me. It’s me who has to choose.’ Not a promising start.

‘Up to a point it’s both of us. We both have to think we can be friends or the whole thing would be a waste of time.’

‘Well, you’re the one who needs a job.’

‘You’re half right. I do want a job; I want to stand on my own feet. But I don’t
need
a job. I live with my aunt and uncle at Chagleigh Farm and I help in the dairy and in the house so that my aunt is free to be outside. They’d like me to let things stay as they are but before I came to Marlhampton I was assistant manager in a hotel on the Isle of Wight –’ how grand that sounded! – ‘and when I was brought here to live I made my mind up that I would find work for myself.’

‘I suppose you got the sack at the hotel.’ From her tone it was evident that Deirdre felt she had scored a point.

‘No. Since I was small and lost my parents my grandmother had been my guardian. She died a few months ago and Uncle Richard brought me down here. I can’t do as I choose until I’m twenty-one, but we all get on very well and they’d be happy for things to stay as they are.’

‘Did you get on with your grandmother?’

‘I loved her. Age didn’t come into it. Gran and I were such
friends
. She died very suddenly.’

Biting her over-lipsticked bottom lip, Deirdre weighed up her words.

‘That must have been rotten for you – her dying like that.’

It was the first breakthrough and Tessa seized it before it faded. ‘It was awful. I’m a coward; I don’t like even thinking about how awful. But one thing Gran taught me – well, one of lots of things if I’m truthful – is that whatever life chucks at you, you have to accept the challenge and make something of it.’

‘Are you saying that to me because of how I am? Anyway, what would you know about it? Life has never chucked anything at you like it did at me.’

Until then Tessa had been standing, looking down at the seated girl. Now she pulled a chair forward so that they were eye to eye.

‘You’re right and, honestly, I’m grateful for all the good things. I’m fit, I have an aunt and uncle who have welcomed me into their home, I have wonderful memories – and I’m determined to make something of my life. Now tell me about you. You can’t just sit in a chair doing nothing all day long. Do you read? Do you paint – or write perhaps? There was a man on the island who had lost both legs in the war and he made the most beautiful wooden carvings.’

‘I s’pose you’re telling me I don’t make an effort. Well, what’s the point anyway? I used to ride. That was how I had the accident. I was out hunting on Jasper. We flew over the hedge, then when he landed something happened. I got thrown, that’s all I remember. I didn’t break an arm or leg or anything, but they say Jasper fell on me. Anyway, my spinal cord got broken. So here I sit. Can’t do anything. I expect you think I’m wicked to be wasting my life. Some life!’ And from the glower that accompanied her words, her situation might have been Tessa’s fault.

Tessa asked herself if she would behave any differently herself if she were in Deirdre’s place.

‘I’m thinking no such thing. I just don’t like to see you miserable. There’s far more to life than walking. Think of the things you have going for you: you’re pretty –’ or you would be if you didn’t put your make-up on as if you were a circus clown, she added silently to herself – ‘you live in a comfortable home, you have a father who cares about you—’

‘Oh, shut up preaching at me. I’m just a horrid person, that’s what you’re trying to tell me.’

‘If I thought that, I would have been out of the house ages ago. You know what I think? I think if we set our minds to it we could get on well and have some fun.’

Deirdre didn’t answer, but from her expression it seemed she didn’t share Tessa’s optimism.

At that point Julian Masters came back into the room, holding open the door for Tessa to wait in the hall while he heard Deirdre’s reaction. She had hardly sat down when he called her back into the room.

‘It seems you have hit the spot with Deirdre. Take a seat, Miss Richards—’

‘Her name’s Tessa, she told you so.’ Despite having given her approval for Tessa’s appointment, Deirdre’s tone was as disagreeable as before. ‘I didn’t say I liked her, I just said that she’d do.’

‘That’s quite enough! Just remember your manners or Miss Richards will refuse the position,’ her father answered. ‘You may leave us now to discuss the details.’

Deirdre skilfully turned the wheels of her chair and made towards the door, but not before Tessa had seen how she bit hard on the corners of her mouth in an attempt to hold back the tears.

‘Deirdre’s right, Mr Masters. It would be nice if you called me Tessa, don’t you think? I’m not much older than she is and “Miss” really doesn’t suit me. I can start whenever you like and I’m sure she and I will get on like a house on fire.’

So the engagement was finalized. She was to be paid thirty pounds a month and would work from ten in the morning until six, Mondays to Fridays with two weeks holiday a year.

‘A funny sort of job if you ask me,’ was Richard’s opinion, ‘and nothing to show for it.’

‘I hope there will be plenty to show for it. Deirdre really is a grouch, there’s no better way of describing her, but what a lonely, unnatural existence. I doubt if she has any friends of her own age – and certainly not here where they are now. It’s as if she’s full of resentment and needs to take her feelings out on everybody else.’

‘You might say something the same about you.’

‘Me?’ Tessa was shocked by the remark. ‘I know that’s how I must have seemed when you came to the island, but I suppose I was frightened and miserable—’

‘I didn’t mean you were like her in being a – what was it you called her – a grouch? No, I meant that Mother was more than seventy when you lost your parents. Your salvation must have been boarding school. I know it used to worry her that you were always an outsider to girls of your own age on the island. So what companionship did you have after you left school?’

‘Gran and I were real friends. If she’d lived to be a hundred, she would never have been old. And I could walk and run and swim and drive, I could get a job and feel I was part of things that matter. Poor Deirdre is so restricted and all her father’s money doesn’t make a scrap of difference. You know what I want? I want to make her forget to pout and to let her face learn to show she is pleased with life. But it’s a tall order.’

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