Page 37 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
Merry held up a wodge of sodden papers. ‘Not much…a box of mush mostly, but from what I can make out, they could have been drawings, sketches, at one point. The rain has got to them though, and they’ve pretty much dissolved.’
‘Well, that would fit then, with it being a gallery?’ replied Tom.
‘Hmm, I suppose so. It’s just that there is a whole box of these, all stacked together. It seems a bit odd.’
‘Now’t so queer as folk, so they say. Let me know if you find anything interesting.’ Tom had already returned to his task.
She looked down again at the papers in her hand, lost in thought for a moment before finally dumping them in the wheelbarrow by the door. The rest of the box appeared to be the same, the condition of the paper noticeably worse at the top where the rain had dripped onto it through the leaky roof. She bent to pick up the last of the pile, papers from the very bottom of the box which had toppled sideways as she lifted it from the floor. A face stared up at her.
At first, she thought it was just a random pattern on the paper, making it appear familiar, like seeing shapes in clouds, but as she peered at it a little more closely, she could definitely make out a sweep of hair and at least one eye peering out at her. She stopped for a moment, looking back at the mess on the floor. She was looking for others; pages that might not be quite so damaged, but as she turned them over they were all illegible. On a whim, she lay the paper on top of a box a little way from her. Perhaps when it was dry some further detail might appear.
She worked solidly for the next half hour, heaving out the sodden contents of three more boxes. More papers, but this time what looked like bills and receipts of some kind. She was just about to start on her fourth box when a loud squawk alerted her to the fact that Robyn was awake once more. She grabbed the baby monitor to go and check on her daughter.
In truth, with the busy events of the day behind her, Merry wouldn’t have given the sketch another thought had it not been for the strange encounter, later that day.
16
‘I’m sorry, can I help you?’
Merry was on her way back into the house having delivered a cup of tea to Tom. What useable daylight they had left was fast fading, and he promised only to be another half hour or so. Robyn wriggled in her arms, as she hurried, trying to get out of the rain. The baby hadn’t fed at all well this afternoon, and with the prospect of their own dinner preparations looming, Merry was anxious to try to settle her.
She almost didn’t notice the woman standing by the gate once more. In fact, she might have missed her altogether had the dog by her side not given a small bark. Merry pulled her coat a little more closely around Robyn and tugged her hood further forward to shelter her own face.
The woman raised a hand in greeting, which was a start at least. She looked just as she had that morning: as still as stone, her face all but expressionless, as she waited for Merry to join her.
‘You’re in then?’ she said in greeting, pushing a hand down onto the dog’s back. It sat down instantly. ‘I came by this morning, but it didn’t look like anyone was up. I thought it best not to disturb you.’
‘Oh yes, I saw you…’ Merry frowned gently at the rain dripping off her hood. ‘Would you like to come in? It’s grim out here.’
‘That would be very nice, thank you,’ came the reply, polite and quietly spoken.
Merry lead the way back into the house, not quite sure if she was up for entertaining. She was about to enquire about the dog when it trotted past her, pausing momentarily on the doorstep to scuff its feet at the doormat, for all the world as if it was wiping them clean.
A voice shot past her. ‘Ma-nners, Rupert!’ It wasn’t exactly a shout, but there was a touch of the Sergeant Major about it none the less. Rupert stood smartly to one side to let Merry pass.
‘Now then where would you like me? I don’t want to get in your way.’
Merry, who was busy shrugging off her wet raincoat, gave a nod towards the kitchen table.
‘We could sit in here, if that’s all right? I’ve just made tea actually – would you like a cup?’
‘If it’s not too much trouble.’
‘No, no. Have a seat. I won’t be a moment.’
She adjusted Robyn who was fussing gently in the carrier. Her gaze wandered to the dog, which still stood by the door.
‘Erm, he can come in if it’s okay. Will he be all right with the baby?’
Her visitor, now in the middle of taking off her own coat, gave a wry chuckle. ‘I can see you’ve never met Rupert before. I think it’s time some introductions were performed, don’t you? Probably better if you sit down.’
‘Oh,’ said Merry, a little amused. ‘Okay.’
With a gentle nod of permission, Rupert approached Merry’s chair and sat beside her, where he held out a polite paw. She laughed and took it as the dog gazed into her eyes before resting his head against her leg.
‘Well, I’ve never seen anything like that before!’ she exclaimed. ‘How ever did you get him to do that?’
‘Well, manners cost nothing I’ve always said, even from our canine friends. I’m Cora, by the way,’ said her visitor with a smile, holding out her own hand, the fingers bent with arthritis.
