Page 37 of Sunset at Embthwaite Farm
“All right,” he said easily enough, and he made his way back to the kitchen while Anna headed upstairs. She stood in the doorway of her bedroom for a few moments, just breathing in and out. She didn’t know why coming back to her little house was making her feel so emotional; surely it was going back to Mathering that should have stirred all the old feelings up, and ithad, but this was something different.
This, Anna realised as she opened the wardrobe doors and surveyed its contents, was her looking around and realising this—these few rooms and their objects—was the sum of her life. This was what she’d made of it, on her own. It wasn’t bad; on the contrary, many parts of it were quietly good. She could honestly say, even with the sorrow of her estrangement from her daughters, she’d felt content here in Stroud, with her little house, her little job, her quiet evenings and her small circle of friends. She’dlearnedto feel content, because after the tribulations and tumult of her marriage, all she’d wanted was solitude and peace, and she’d found both.
But somehow, right now, it made her feel sad. Thirteen years of her life felt—not wasted, no, butsmall. Very small.
Anna heard the kettle switch off downstairs and decided she needed to get a move on. Hurriedly she grabbed some of her clothes out of the wardrobe and flung them on the bed before she grabbed a suitcase from the cupboard in the hall. She started throwing things into it willy-nilly—the clothes, a soft throw in rose pink she’d always loved, a few pillows, her favourite books. Things that felt like they were truly hers.
There wasn’t much to take from the bathroom and the other, smaller bedroom she’d used mostly for storage. She headed downstairs with the single suitcase and left it by the front door.
“Done already?” James asked as he came from the kitchen with two cups of tea. He nodded at the suitcase as he handed her one. “There’s not much there.”
“In the end, I’m not sure how much there is to take. If I do move to Mathering, I suppose I’ll have to do the big clear-out, but I’m not quite at that point yet.”
“This place seems very cosy,” James remarked. “You must have been happy here.”
“I was content,” Anna replied, not so much an agreement as a correction.
“Sometimes that’s even better,” he replied. “A sort of settledness in yourself. Happiness, I’ve found, can be fleeting.”
This conversation was getting very deep, but for once Anna didn’t want to shy away from it. “Yes, I think you’re right. It took me a long time to get to that point.”
“It did for me, as well,” James replied quietly.
Anna had not asked him very much about his wife. It had felt, for a reason she couldn’t quite discern, like a no-go area, but maybe that was down to her apprehension rather than a lack of willingness on James’s part. She decided to broach the subject now.
“It must have taken awhile,” she offered hesitantly, “after your wife died.”
“Yes.” He nodded slowly. “Helen’s diagnosis was so sudden, and she deteriorated so quickly. They didn’t catch it until it was well advanced—apparently that happens more often than anyone would like. She died just three months after we’d first learned she had it, just a few weeks after she’d started treatment. My head was still spinning, and poor Jane was only seventeen, doing her A levels. To lose her mother right then…just about the worst time, really.”
Anna took a sip of tea to hide the expression on her face. Harriet had more or less lost her mother at the same age, although hardly in the same way. How would James feel, she wondered, to know she’d walked away from her children in the way that she had? Considering how close he was to his own daughter, how he would react, realising she’d been estranged from hers for over a decade?
Her stomach churned at the thought. They’d been having such a pleasant time getting to know one another, but right then it felt as if it was all based on lies…and Anna didn’t think she was brave enough to trust James with the truth.
Chapter Fifteen
It was darkby the time they made it back to Mathering, and Anna was feeling exhausted. James was, as well, she suspected; they’d both been quiet in the car for the last two hours of the trip, although not in an uncomfortable way…she hoped. The truth was, ever since she’d realised how much she hadn’t told him about herself, she’d been feeling a little awkward. A little guilty, like she’d lied without meaning to, and was now continuing to lie, by omission.
And maybe James, in his usually astute way, sensed something of that, because they’d both backed off any emotional or intense subjects, and concentrated simply on choosing what belongings to bring back as well as loading them into the car. Three boxes of books, two of kitchen stuff, and one of photos and knick-knacks later, they were heading back towards North Yorkshire.
They’d stopped for dinner at a pub outside Sheffield, and then Anna had dropped James off at his house before coming to hers. He’d offered to help her unload, but Anna had told him there was no need; he looked tired, and, in any case, he’d been helpful enough already. Besides, they were two people used to their own company and they’d spent nearly twelve hours with each other. Anna had found it a bit intense, and she suspected James had, as well. And while he’d promised to call her soon, she thought they could both use a bit of a breather.
And somehow, she reflected as she pulled in front of her house, in that time she had to figure out a way to tell James about those battle scars she’d mentioned. Scars he’d said were signs she’d survived, badges of honour,but…they were still scars, and there were reasons for them. Reasons he might not entirely understand or accept.
She was still sitting there, staring into space, when a rather determined tap on her window had her jumping as she let out a little shriek of surprise. She turned to see Jane peering in her window.
“Jane…” Anna rolled down the window. “Sorry, you startled me.”
“Sorry, I was just wondering where you were all day,” Jane replied. “I made brownies as a thank-you for being so kind the other day.” She brandished a tray of brownies while Anna blinked at her. There was somethingslightlyoff about Jane coming to find her in her car at this time of night, with the brownies in hand.
“That’s very kind of you,” Anna replied as she opened the door and stepped out of the car. Jane’s gaze narrowed.
“Is that my dad’sscarf?” she asked, sounding incredulous, and Anna glanced back to see, with a sinking sensation, that James had left his scarf, a lovely cashmere one in blue and grey stripes, on the passenger seat.
“Er…yes, it is,” Anna replied, knowing she couldn’t deny it, and why should she? Jane was a grown woman, and she and James were just friends. And yet she felt the need to brace herself, for whatever came next.
“Why…” Jane shook her head as if to clear it. “Sorry, I’m just really confused. I thought you were in Stroud today.” She spoke accusingly, like she thought Anna had been lying to her.
“I was,” Anna admitted. This was, she realised, sounding worse and worse. “Your dad came with me.”
