Page 54 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
For a moment, she thought she had got away with it, but then Sam’s eyes clouded and his mouth set in a hard line.
‘I thought you might have had a little more faith in me at least. Talk about throwing it all back in my face—’
‘I’m not being critical, or ungrateful,’ bit back Freya, interrupting him. ‘But what I am doing is trying to put an end to this endless fighting between the two of you. It’s got to stop, and I’ll be damned if I let Appleyard become your own personal battlefield.’ She was aware that her voice had risen considerably, and she forced it back down again. ‘Look Sam, I do understand how it is for you, but you have nothing to prove as far as Stephen is concerned. I love you. Appleyard is as much yours now as it is mine, and what’s important is that we do things for us, because they’re right for us, not to prove a point to anyone else. Stephen can do what he bloody well likes. He said he’d talk to you and I happen to think he will, but if I’m wrong, then let him get on with things; it’s his business not ours.’
Sam’s shoulders sank a little lower as he took in Freya’s words. He reached for her hand with a small sigh, a rueful smile softening his expression.
‘Shall we go back to the beginning again?’ he said, shaking his head in amusement. ‘I’ll close this poncey website down, and we can get back to our original list of things we need to think about.’
Freya gave him an answering smile, and rummaged on the table for her notebook and pencil. She was flicking through the pages when Sam’s harsh voice cut through her thoughts.
‘What do you mean Stephen said he’d talk to me, Freya? Just when was this exactly?’
Bugger.
‘Don’t you start,’ grumbled Merry. ‘I’ve had enough with the villagers telling me we’re doomed without you buying into the whole silly curse thing as well. This house is not under some dark spell and neither are we.’ She stood beside her husband looking down on the road beneath their bedroom window as Merry’s crumpled car was slowly towed away.
‘So that phone call from the builders telling me they can’t come back for three whole weeks isn’t more bad luck?’ replied Tom, rubbing at the dirty windowpane.
‘It is bad luck, yes, but nothing more. These things happen.’
‘Well, they seem to be happening to us rather a lot at the moment,’ he said, his finger squeaking against the glass.
Merry stilled his hand. ‘Will you stop that, look, you’re making it all smeary.’ She was determined not to credit Tom’s concern. Admittedly, her thoughts had been straying in that same direction a few days ago, but that was before Robyn had become ill, and since then, bizarrely, amid all the anguish and confusion that had been heaped upon them, Merry now felt a profound peace. She also felt inclined to stick up for Christopher and his house.
‘You know you could look at what’s happened from another point of view; that the crow chose to come down the chimney in the only room in the house full of furniture we’re not using, that it was still alive, and I got to hold its body in my hands before setting it free. That Robyn’s illness wasn’t the more serious form, and that we caught it quickly…even the tree came down when no one else was here, and of all the places that it could have fallen, it missed the house and the shop completely. Given all the things it could have landed on, it picked the one thing that in relative terms wasn’t worth a great deal.’
A small smile played across Tom’s lips. ‘And what about the work in the shop?’ he asked, pulling his wife to him in a playful hug.
‘Well, I haven’t quite worked that one out yet…’ Merry smirked. ‘But, I’m sure I shall.’ She turned her attention back to the window and the rivers of rain that ran down it. Outside, a dark wall of cloud proclaimed little change in the weather.
‘Anyway, I don’t think we’re the ones in need of luck,’ she remarked, tilting her head towards the cluster of houses that sat at the bottom of the hill. ‘I wouldn’t want to be down there right now. Look how far the river has come up in the last few hours.’
Tom followed her line of sight and stared out of the window as if seeing the rain for the first time.
‘It wasn’t like that this morning,’ he said. ‘I wonder if it usually floods.’
‘I’ve no idea,’ frowned Merry. ‘But Cora would probably know. I could give her a ring?’
Tom glanced at his watch. ‘Perhaps you should,’ he agreed. ‘I might just go out and take a look before it gets dark. Will you be okay here?’
‘We’llbe fine,’ said Merry pointedly. ‘But you’ll get soaked going out there. Do you really think it’s necessary?’
‘I’ve never really noticed it before now, but look at the bend in the river and the slope of the hill. If it goes over, it will take out all the houses below it down by the pond. They’re directly in its path.’
Merry stared at Tom, her heart beginning to beat a little quicker. ‘I’ll go and ring Cora,’ she said.
It was a full hour before Tom returned, dumping his boots by the back door and standing in the kitchen, his waxed jacket dripping a steady stream of water onto the floor.
‘It’s come up even higher just in the time I’ve been out,’ he said, as Merry and Cora looked up anxiously from the table. ‘If the rain continues, it will flood for definite, I’m sure.’
‘But that’s what I don’t understand,’ said Cora. ‘The flood plain has always taken the weight of the water before it ever gets this high. That’s what it’s there for.’
Tom looked puzzled for a moment. ‘None of the fields is flooded Cora, I’ve been the whole length of the village and back again. Where is this flood plain?’
‘Out on the left as you go through, opposite the new estate. That’s why the houses are only on one side of the road. The developers fought long and hard to get permission to build on the other side as well, but all the villagers petitioned, and the town council quite rightly refused permission. The flood plain can never be built on, it would be a disaster.’
‘But there’s no water there, Cora. None at all. In fact, if anything, I’d say the water level is lower on that side of the village.’
