Page 82 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
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Delilah watched her walk a little way before turning to walk the lane in the other direction. She pulled her mobile from the pocket of her shorts and dialled Henry’s number. He answered almost straight away.
‘Are you still with Jude?’ she asked urgently.
‘No, I’ve just left, why?’
‘It’s almost as if Willow knows,’ whispered Delilah, ‘but I thought Jude wasn’t going to say anything to her just yet. Has he changed his mind?’
‘No,’ replied Henry. ‘The only people that know are us and Jude, I’m sure of it. Beside there’s no way Jude would say anything until the deal goes through, he wants it to be a surprise.’
There was silence on the line for a moment.
‘Is everything all right?’ Henry prompted.
‘I don’t know…it’s weird. I’ve just met Willow in the lane by the gate. She was staring right at the fields, and the look on her face was…I dunno, but she didn’t look happy. She gave me some story about feeling faint, but she didn’t want any help.’
‘That does seem a bit odd,’ agreed Henry. ‘Jude is sure she’ll be over the moon when she finds out…are you still okay, though?’
Delilah couldn’t help herself and gave an excited skip. ‘Lover, I’m blinkin’ ecstatic!’ she gushed.
She could hear Henry’s smile as he replied. ‘Well, then, we’ll just have to wait and see. And that won’t be long; Jude said he could get the call from his bank as early as tomorrow. I’m still sure Willow doesn’t know anything about it, and when she does find out, I’m pretty certain she’ll be as excited as we are. Perhaps it’s like she said, and she just felt hot, that’s all.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ answered Delilah. ‘After all, it can’t really be anything else, can it?’
43
It felt to Willow as if she had been sitting in the same spot since yesterday. There seemed little point in doing much else.
The door to her potions room as Peter had once called it, remained firmly closed. She had gone in there early this morning to retrieve grandma Gilly’s notebook, but apart from that she had no intention of stepping inside. The last batch of elderflowers would wither and turn brown during the day if they were left unprocessed, but Willow didn’t care if they were unusable. It seemed fitting somehow that the fragrant frothy white heads would lose their strength and wither and die. It was much how she felt herself.
Jude had been his usual loving and attentive self last night, playing with the girls after tea, a quiet game, mindful of Beth’s arm which was still quite sore. He had them in fits of giggles as he read their bedtime story with his repertoire of silly voices which they loved. It had been easy to pretend that everything was fine during the early evening when there were things to be done and Willow could keep busy but, as soon as the girls were in bed, he had come straight to her side. She looked tired he had said, working too hard, and had offered to run her a soothing bath. Willow had never known Jude to behave in any other way, but now she caught herself watching him, questioning his motives. Was it attentiveness, or guilt at his betrayal? Keeping her sweet until the time when he would have to tell her what he had done.
Eventually, after she feigned a migraine and her replies became ever more monosyllabic with each question, Jude had left her to the quiet solitude she had wished for. He had slept curled around her back though, just as he always did, but instead of welcoming the warmth and comfort his arms provided like she would normally do, he had felt heavy, and confining, pinning her to the bed, and she longed for some space to think and to breathe. She hated the way it made her feel.
This morning her tiredness had been real, her face pale and drawn, and even though Jude needed to get to his office early, he promised to look in on her at lunchtime. It was now nearly eleven o’clock, and she had not moved for some time. Another message from Merry flashed up on the screen of her mobile, at least the fifth since yesterday. She picked up her phone to tap out a reply.
Hi, sorry not to reply earlier, but Amy is really poorly bless her, and I can’t leave her today. I’ll ring you later, so we can fix up when to meet, hope that’s okay? Still madly excited! Xx
Pressing send, she tossed her phone back onto the table with a sigh. She had bought herself time with her lies, that was all, but some time fairly soon she would have to make a decision. In all the years she had been married to Jude, they had never even argued, and she certainly had never had cause to doubt their relationship, it was simply not on her radar. Now though, with one fell swoop, everything she believed about their life together had been called into question. It wasn’t only Jude’s duplicity that she was struggling to deal with, but her own, for wasn’t she just as bad? She had kept secrets too, convincing herself that what she was doing was right without even discussing it with Jude, not once. In all honesty, Jude probably thought he was doing the right thing for his family, just as she did herself, so which of them was right? They were both as bad as one another, she thought bitterly.
She’d been such a fool to think that her stupid business venture would be the thing to make the difference to their lives. So blinded was she by her ego and fanciful dreams that she had forgotten how to share, to talk, and to love. She could never agree with what Jude had done, but how would he feel when he found out how she had been planning to ambush his plans too. To discount them out of hand by thrusting her own, better idea under his nose. She loved Jude so much, always had, and a life without him was unthinkable, but for the first time in her marriage she was worried for their future. A single tear, the first she had shed, made its way down her cheek, and as it dripped from the end of her chin, a bout of crying gripped her so fiercely she could scarcely breathe. She lowered her head to the table and howled like a wounded animal.
Some time later she awoke, much to her surprise, to find she was lying beneath the cool sheets of her bed. She vaguely remembered Jude talking to her, when she was still slumped at the table. The tears had dried up by then, but she was listless and unresponsive, and he had led her to bed without protest. He had brought cool flannels for her forehead and sweet drinks in the dimmed room, and then left her to the effortless escape of sleep.
She lifted her head weakly to look at the clock beside her bed, astonished to discover it was early evening. Panic lurched in her stomach at the thought of the girls worried and alone after school, but a burble of laughter reached her from along the hallway, and she realised that they were having their evening bath. It had always been the same, she remembered. Any time she had been unwell, or simply exhausted with the twins’ demands when they were tiny, Jude had been there, without a second thought, caring for the girls, and for her. He worked so hard himself and yet any free time he had, he devoted to them, never to himself. He’d been the best father and the best husband she could wish for. A lump rose in her throat.
A cool breeze ruffled the curtains at the window, and she let the air play over her skin. She closed her eyes again, pressing her head deeper into the pillow. She would have to deal with all of this soon, she knew that, but not today. She was so tired and all she craved now was to be released from pain. She slept.
There was no lightning this time to illuminate the scene, no pouring rain, but instead a blazing sun shone down, bouncing off the stark pale streets intersected by rows and rows of houses. Tired gardens drooped in the heat and a haze shimmered from the cars as they passed. A young mother wheeled a pushchair, sweat collecting on her back as she bent to the child inside who was hot and fretful. There was no shade anywhere.
And then she saw it. The huge oak tree that had always guarded the entrance to the fields. A tree under which she had played with the girls, collecting wildflowers, having tea parties with their dolls, making daisy chains and lying on their backs staring up at the sky, making shapes from the clouds that floated past. The same tree was now fenced off, contained, unreachable, and undesirable. Willow woke, heart pounding, her own sweat gluing her nightdress to her body. The vision was just as clear as before and she tried to slow her breathing.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, she became aware of movement beside her, and ragged breathing that was not her own. A sliver of moonlight lay across Jude’s body and without thinking Willow slipped her hand into its light, feeling the comfort it brought. She crept soundlessly from the bed and pulled back the curtains, letting the silvery rays flood the room. It was a full moon; how could she have forgotten?
She climbed back into bed, moving closer to Jude, seeing the sheen of perspiration on his face as he dreamed. His eyelids fluttered, his mouth parted as he fought against the images in his mind. His fingers opened and closed on the sheet beside her, seeking solace, seeking comfort from her, and as she slid her fingers into his, she gasped as his terror filled her too.
Willow stared at her husband, a man she had loved for most of her life, and for the second time that day wondered how she had been so foolish, how she could have got it so completely wrong? Her dreams had plagued her for weeks, visions that were so real, they had haunted her, waking in her a terror of what they could mean; but as she looked at Jude’s face, struggling and in pain, she realised that the fear had never been hers to begin with, and neither were the dreams. They were Jude’s.
