Page 14 of The Beekeeper's Cottage
‘So when you heard the name Paul Maynard, it didn’t ring any bells with you?’
Amos raised his eyebrows.
‘My husband is an anchor with the local television network, and host of umpteen programmes for them; entertainment shows, documentaries, Children in Need, you know the kind of thing… Over the years he has risen to become quite a valuable commodity.’
She plucked at a head of dead grass from the side of the road. ‘But sadly, over the course of our marriage, some thirty-odd years or so, the value he has placed on himself has increased, while the value placed on our relationship has declined. And, well, after discovering his latest in a long line of affairs, I’m afraid that last night I asked him for a divorce.’ She shuddered as a shiver ran down her back.
‘Try as I might, I just really don’t like my husband very much any more. Luckily, I don’t think he really likes me, and hecertainlydoesn’t like our house. And for that, I am truly thankful; for the last few years my home has been a haven for me, a place where I can mostly be alone and still try to be the person I have always been. If I truly still loved him, I would have been consumed by his rejection, and I would have lost even more of myself. Does that make any sense?’
Amos nodded. ‘Perfectly.’
‘And so, nothing has really changed recently except that I’m getting older, Amos. I no longer want to be laughed at by everyone around here who knows what’s going on but never mentions it; the sympathetic looks, the shushed comments when I walk in the room. Nor do I want to feel like a stranger in my own home, having to watch what I do or say whenever he’s around for fear of igniting his anger, having his nasty words sully the fresh air I’m breathing. But more than anything, I don’t want to be with someone who considers me so worthless.’ She swallowed, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. ‘I think I’m worth more than that.’
It had taken Grace quite some time to admit that to herself, to sift through all the emotions that Paul provoked in her, and to understand that none of his behaviour was her fault. But years of believing herself worthless had left a mark that was not easy to erase. She turned to look again at Amos, who had almost stopped walking, trying to process her words. Had she shocked him?
‘I see,’ he said quietly. ‘I may not know you very well, Grace, but what I can say, is that everyone is worth more than that. Even Paul. He treats himself badly by his actions too. The difference is that he hasn’t been able to work that out, whereas you have.’ He lifted his head to meet her eyes.
‘Yes, I’ve realised that. Believe me, I’ve done a lot of soul-searching. But it’s not my job to save him either.’
‘No,’ replied Amos. ‘No, it isn’t.’ He squinted at the sun. ‘So, I can understand you notwantingto sell the house, but if you divorce, you’llneedto sell the house for financial reasons, is that it?’
Grace shook her head. ‘Not at all. Which is what’s so upsetting about all of this. The mortgage on the house was paid off years ago and Paul has pots of money stashed away in various places. He doesn’t need whatever the house would raise, and that’s not why he wants it sold. You see, the trouble with Paul is that he can’t bear to be rejected, even by someone he doesn’t want to be with anyway. His arrogance really is quite astounding! I always knew that when it came to leaving him that he would react badly and I would have to fight my corner. And my corner is myhome, Amos. It’s the one thing, theonlything that Paul can use against me to make me hurt. But I’m not prepared to let that go, under any circumstances, and he knows it.’
She stopped for a moment, wondering whether or not to go on.
‘So, that’s what today was all about; Paul deciding whether or not he was going to call my bluff and, thanks to you Amos, I now have the proof that he has.’ She touched his arm. ‘Which is really why I need to apologise to you. For involving you in this at all. This hateful “game” that Paul seems determined we should play, it’s just too sordid for words.’
There was silence for a moment as they walked on. They were nearing Hope Corner and the turn in the lane which would take Amos down to the farm and Grace further on up to reach her house.
Amos frowned. ‘I was supposed to be inviting you round for tea. I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘With all this I’d quite forgotten what Flora said before I left.’ He smiled. ‘It’s such a beautiful afternoon and she said you’d be very welcome to call in after work and eat with them, have a drink, or whatever you prefer.’
Grace considered his words for no more than a millisecond. She really didn’t think she could face going straight home today.
‘Hope Corner Farm it is then,’ she said. ‘With any luck Flora will have made up a pitcher of Pimm’s. She throws loads of fruit in it, mint too, and we usually have it with homemade lemonade so I can still walk home afterwards.’
She grinned, and brightened her expression. She didn’t blame Amos for going all quiet on her, but she felt bad that she had caused it to happen. They would be at the farm in a few minutes, and enough was enough. No more talk about Paul or houses this evening. Tomorrow there would be quite enough time for all that.
Flora was crossing the yard as they approached the farmhouse, her arms full of flowers.
‘Hello!’ she called as she caught sight of them. ‘Perfect timing. The kettle’s on.’
By Amos’s side, Grace laughed. ‘When is it not?’ she asked, moving forward to admire the blooms Flora had picked.
Amos hung back, happy to see the easy banter between the two women and to let their conversation go at its natural pace. There were tough times ahead for Grace and she would need the comfort and security of her friendship with Flora more than ever. Besides, Amos had work to do. His errand for Grace, worthwhile though it was, had taken up a large chunk of his time and he had hardly earned his keep for the day.
The two women fell into step, moving off towards the house. He stood for a moment to let them pass ahead of him and then made off in the other direction to continue on his way.
‘Amos?’
He turned at the sound of Flora’s voice.
‘Aren’t you coming in for a cuppa?’ she said, and he could tell that she wasn’t just being polite.
‘I ought to get on,’ he replied. ‘But thank you. I’ll get some water in the cottage. It’s a little cooler now and perfect wall-building weather.’
Flora pulled a face. ‘Are you really going to start that now?’ she asked.
Amos nodded. ‘There are plenty of daylight hours yet. It would be a shame to waste them.’
