Page 93 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
‘I should be thrilled that someone likes my garlands so much and, more than that, she’s even offered me paid work – for a wedding of all things! Do you know what this could mean for me, Boris? Money. Money to help me get other things off the ground instead of sitting in my kitchen wasting my life away like the sad, lonely widow I am.’
She stopped pacing for a moment to look the dog squarely in the eye.
‘I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with you. I mean, it’s obvious what the answer is. I should run after her as fast as I can and bite her arm off. But instead I’m having a deep and meaningful conversation with my dog because I’m scared, and pathetic and frightened that as soon as I’m among people again, they’ll start saying all those horrible things about me that put me here in the first place.’
The memories of that time leaped out at her unbidden. It was a time and place that Laura never wanted to go back to, but even as her eyes began to smart with the pain of it all, a part of her knew that she had to go back to start going forward again.
‘See, it’s different with the others, my friends; they’re outcasts like me, because their age makes them different, makes them less able. But they’re patient, they speak slower, and it’s not half so exhausting having a conversation with them. Besides, Blanche is pretty deaf too, Stan has a dodgy hip and Millie’s memory isn’t what it once was; but none of us needs to apologise. We all know what it’s like to have bits of us that don’t work properly, and that’s okay. We’re still us.’
She sat down heavily with a sigh.
‘I might not get a chance like this again. There was something…something I can’t explain about Freya, but it’s like she understood me. She wouldn’t think it weird that I tramp the fields all day and forage for stuff.She’dthink it was magical; she’d want to do it too, I know she would. No one has made me feel like that about what I do in a long time, Boris, a very long time indeed.’ She puffed out her cheeks. ‘And yet I still bloody chickened out.’
She got up again and walked over to her larder returning with a large bowl of pale knobbly fruits.
‘Right,’ she said in a decisive fashion. ‘Tomorrow I’ll go. Did you hear that, Boris?’ The dog watched her with his large brown eyes, licking his lips as he did so. ‘Tomorrow Iwillgo to the churchyard, and Iwillmeet with Freya and find out what it is she’d like me to do. So, if I look like I’m chickening out, I give you full permission to push me out through the door with a very wet cold nose.’
She gave a satisfied nod.
‘And now that’s decided, I’m going to tackle these beautiful quinces. Stick your nose in there, Boris, aren’t they some of the best things you’ve ever smelled?’
51
Freya’s heart leaped as she walked through the church gate the next morning. Laura was waiting for her on the other side, her huge dog beside her, and although she looked pretty terrified, Freya acknowledged that she’d found her own legs a little wobbly at times as she walked up the lane.
Two days ago, she had chatted away to Laura the same way she would to anyone else, but although she knew that today ought to be no different, she felt clumsy and tongue-tied.Whatever you do, don’t try and compensate for her deafness by shouting at herwas Sam’s less than helpful advice. She had worked that out herself, but she still felt she ought to try to make things easier for Laura, she just didn’t know how. The more she thought about their encounter, the more she could see her old friend serendipity at work. The fact that Stephen had quite literally bumped into Laura as well, only served to strengthen her feelings.
She gave Laura a tentative but she hoped friendly smile. The last thing she wanted to do was scare her off.
To her surprise, Laura responded with a massive grin of her own.
‘Thank God, you’re here,’ she said. ‘It took me all of yesterday to work up the courage to come. If you hadn’t turned up, I would have felt the most enormous prat. I’d probably have gone home and had the most almighty blub as well.’
‘Me too,’ replied Freya. ‘I’m so glad you came.’
The two women looked at one another for a moment, the early morning sun slanting a band of gold between them. It would be all right, thought Freya, and her nervousness faded.
‘Well, this is Boris,’ said Laura, patting the dog’s head, which came easily to her waist. ‘He’s very big and very hairy, but other than that the least scary dog I know. In fact, he’s a real pushover, but don’t tell him I said that.’
Freya smiled at the hairy beast. ‘It suits him,’ she said. ‘Very distinguished.’
When there was no reply, Freya lifted her head a fraction to find Laura squinting at her. She blushed.
‘I said his name suits him.’ She smiled. ‘He looks very distinguished.’
There was a nod and then, ‘I’m sorry, I…’
‘Distinguished?’ Freya repeated, trying not to shout.
‘Ah, okay,’ said Laura, ‘I’ve always thought so. There’s definitely something of the aristocrat about him.’ She flashed Freya a grateful look before looking down and fiddling with the buttons on her coat.
‘Perhaps I should just come out and say it…’ began Laura. ‘It might save us both a lot of embarrassment, and I can see you’ve worked out for yourself that I’m deaf. I probably should thank you first for not shouting. You won’t believe how many people do, it’s instinctive I know, but people’s faces and mouths contort when they do that, and it makes lip-reading so much harder. Speaking normally is best.’
‘I’ll probably get it wrong a lot of the time, but I won’t mind in the slightest if you tell me.’
‘You might, when it’s the nineteenth time I’ve done it,’ said Laura with a wry smile.
Her words were light, but it struck Freya how utterly exhausting it must be for her to have a conversation this way, having to prompt people constantly to repeat things, having to study people’s faces to such an extent that you see every flicker of irritation written there.
