Page 24 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
‘I won’t owe anything if I can get this house, don’t you get it?’
Sam sat down at the table, leaning closer to his brother. ‘Then you’d better tell me, hadn’t you,’ he said, shoving his face closer still.
Something crumpled behind the façade then, and Stephen clung to the table before lowering himself onto a chair. He ran shaky hands through his hair and closed his eyes.
‘I met a bloke in the pub a while back. We had a few beers and then a few more and before I knew it, he’d suggested we had a game of cards. He was an arrogant bastard, but he knew what he was doing, and at the end of the night, I owed him five hundred quid.’
‘Oh, and let me guess, you thought you could beat him? Just one more game, eh?’
‘They were serious guys, Sam, you wouldn’t understand. They didn’t just play for a few pounds, they played for big bucks, and not just cards either. It wasn’t unusual to win or lose twenty grand during a night.’
‘So you gambled your inheritance to get the better of some bloke down the pub. Nice one, Stephen. What did you do? Re-mortgage the house?’
‘So what if I did? None of this will matter if I can get this place, everything will be okay.’
‘Explain.’
Stephen rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not as stupid as you think, little brother. While you were out there slaving away picking bloody apples for peanuts, I was making connections, and a couple of months ago, I hit the jackpot; a property developer who was looking for a new investment project. Two houses, two orchards, a lot of land; it’s a desirable venture for an astute businessman with money to spare.’
‘Except that you don’t have two houses and two orchards, do you? Only the one, and a whole heap of debt.’
‘Which is why I need your bloody help. I need to get the sale through on this place, otherwise I’m going to lose my buyer. This is small fry for him, he won’t hang around. Don’t you get it, Sam? When you have that kind of money, it’s just a game, and he’s getting impatient.’
‘But you just said you can’t get a mortgage?’
‘I need the funds, Sam, that’s all. You could lend me the money, couldn’t you? It would only be for a short while, until the sale of the whole lot goes through, and then you’ll get it back twofold, I promise.’
Sam jerked his chair away from the table as he stood up sharply. ‘No,’ he said coldly, his mouth a thin line. ‘It’s about time you learned to stop playing with people’s lives, Stephen. You can’t have everything just because you want it; life doesn’t work that way.’
‘Oh, but it does, doesn’t it?’ bit back Stephen, his bravado returning. ‘I can have everything I want, can’t I? Anything of yours, that is. I can take what I like, remember?’
‘Don’t you dare bring Freya into this!’
‘Why not? I’m not the only one making plans around here. Don’t think your knight-in-shining-armour routine is fooling anyone, not for one minute.’
‘And neither is your big-man, I-can-do-anything routine. You’ve lost this one, Stephen. Accept it.’
Stephen lurched up from the table, his face contorted with rage. ‘So what the hell am I supposed to do?’
‘What other people do,’ replied Sam mildly. ‘Act like a grown-up, get a proper job, pay your way. Take responsibility for once in your life.’
‘But the people I owe money to won’t take no for an answer. How am I going to pay them off now?’
‘Sell the house. Settle your debts, start over.’
‘Look, I don’t even need your cash. You could act as guarantor on the mortgage or something. Just have a chat to the bank, Sam, please. They’re the ones that have caused all this mess. It would only be for a short while and—’
‘The answer’s still no, Stephen. The banks have had their fingers burned too. They won’t lend you the money no matter how hard you beg them to, and neither will I.’
The back door opened then, catching them both by surprise as Amos came through, stamping his feet on the mat to release the snow from his boots.
‘Merry mistletoe!’ He grinned at them both, holding aloft a glistening sprig. ‘Morning, Stephen. I hope you’re on your way back home soon. The snow’s coming down again, and by the look of the sky, there’s a heap more on its way. In a short while, nothing will be moving.’
Stephen glared at them both, then flung his chair back under the table with such force that the whole thing rocked, slopping undrunk coffee everywhere. With a final glare at Amos, he stormed out of the door, leaving it wide open.
Sam went to close it gently. ‘Well, that was good timing.’
‘Wasn’t it?’ agreed Amos. ‘I’ve been standing outside the door for the last five minutes just to make sure.’ He grinned. ‘My feet are freezing!’
