Page 52 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
25
Cora and Rupert were there to welcome them home two days later. Cora hovered at the edge of the driveway as Tom turned the car in, barely able to contain her excitement, or so it seemed at first. The real reason became apparent as the car came to rest around the back of the house.
Merry stared through the windscreen in blinking disbelief. What more could possibly go wrong? She pushed open the car door, grabbing onto it as the wind fought to tear it from her hands. From the back seat, Robyn slept on peacefully.
Some ten metres in front of her, the space where Merry’s car was parked had completely disappeared, and in its place was tree. Nothing else, just tree, although somewhere, underneath it all she supposed her car was still there. She looked around her, following the line of destruction into the field beside the house, where the enormous roots of the tree had ripped a jagged crater in the soft soil.
‘Don’t look at that now,’ urged Cora, coming round to stand beside Merry and Tom, trying to crane her neck for a better look at Robyn inside the car. ‘It’s worse than it looks, and all under control.’
Tom gave her an incredulous stare. ‘How can that possibly be under control?’ he asked, mouth hanging open.
Cora ignored him. ‘Come on, let’s bring the little one inside, I’ve the kettle on for you,’ she replied, trying to shepherd them along.
‘But I’ve only been gone for two hours…’
‘Yes, well, it doesn’t take long for a tree to fall down once it’s a mind to. Come on, in we go.’
Merry looked around her and up at the sky as if she expected another tree to appear from nowhere. She leaned back inside the car to unclip Robyn from her seat and allowed herself to be led inside. Cora shut the door firmly after them.
‘It came down not long after you left for the hospital, Tom, but I’ve called Brian, and he’ll be along shortly. I’m afraid he and his chainsaw are rather in demand today, but he’ll come and see to it for you. I suspect his sons will be along too to lend a hand, so that’s fine.’
‘Cora,’ insisted Tom. ‘We’ve just come home from the hospital to find a ruddy great tree sprawled across our driveway, and if I’m not very much mistaken, Merry’s car will be flattened underneath it. In what way is everything fine?’
‘Are you all right?’ she asked by way of reply. ‘Is Merry? Is the baby, and the house…? Well then, in my book, everything is fine. The car is just a heap of metal that can be replaced. Sit down while I pour the tea, and you can tell me how Robyn is, although I must say she looks chirpy enough now.’
Robyn was indeed chirupping away merrily at Rupert, who as usual had come to sit by her side. Her toes bounced up and down with delight. Merry sighed and accepted the cup of tea with a weary smile.
‘Real tea,’ she said. ‘Thank the lord.’
The last couple of days had been relentless. The sheer panic and terror of not knowing what was happening to Robyn had given way to a listless relief when she was pronounced out of danger. But she was still in a place where Merry had felt unable to reach her, to care for her. It was far from home, and she had felt the pull of Five Penny House keenly. Now she wanted to feel the house around her, to sense its security and comfort and, while she knew she was probably too tired and emotional to think straight, it felt as though this was a place where Robyn could get strong and well again. As the soothing warmth of the tea slipped down, even the devastation of the tree outside seemed an irrelevance. It was fine, Cora had said, and Merry believed her. She let herself sit and be comforted.
‘Thank you, Cora,’ she said, as she finished the last of her tea. ‘That was the nicest cup of tea I can ever remember having.’
‘Well, that’s because it came with a hefty dose of contentment. It’s good to have you all home again. We’ve missed you,’ she said, laying a hand on Rupert’s head. ‘Especially this fellow. He takes his guard duties very seriously. I think if they’d let him in the hospital, he would have been there like a shot.’ She watched Robyn for a moment, a smile playing across her face. ‘What have the doctors said? Do you know where she picked up the virus?’
Merry was quick to reassure her. ‘It could have been anywhere, but somewhere full of people – the supermarket most likely, and certainly not from being out with you and Rupert.’ She ran a hand through her wind-blown hair. ‘It’s ironic really because she’s not long had her immunisations. She was just unlucky, that’s all.’
‘Or lucky,’ Cora replied.
Merry tipped her head. ‘How so?’
‘That it wasn’t the more serious form of meningitis.’
Cora’s words settled in the room for a moment, as Merry recognised their wayward truth. How strange to be grateful for something so awful, and to feel that even after the horrible time of the last few days, there was still something to feel glad about. Everything was relative, that was all.
Tom reached down for the baby’s things. ‘I’ll go and put these back where they belong,’ he said, laying a soft hand on Merry’s head.
As soon as Tom had left the room, Merry turned to Cora.
‘How did Christopher’s wife and daughter die? Please, I want to know.’
Cora’s expression was not quite as shocked as it perhaps should have been. ‘It was a long time ago, Merry. I’m not sure it helps…but I do understand why you asked.’
‘Then will you tell me?’
The minutes of silence stretched between them, as Merry’s eyes flickered back and forth towards the door, waiting for her husband to reappear.
‘You’re quite right in what you feel,’ answered Cora eventually, watching Merry carefully. ‘But if you’ve felt that much, then you know that Robyn is in no danger. Christopher Marchmont was one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. In life there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do, either for Catherine, or for his wife, Marina…and similarly in death, nothing he wouldn’t do to protect their memory. If you’ve felt his presence, then I’d say it’s only because he’s pleased you’re here.’
