“Well, it’s no more than any old house gets... particularly if it is left standing empty.”
“Has it always been let out?”
“Since old Hargreaves died. That would be eight or nine years ago. He lived there with his old housekeeper. His family didn’t bother much. They were after his bit of money. Then his son and son’s wife came down to look after him. It wasn’t long after that he was in his coffin. Of course, there were rumors. Did the old man die naturally or did they give him a little push? They got the house. We all thought they’d sell... but they didn’t. They did this letting and you get people there ... for a while. Then they’re off.”
The door opened and Patty came in with the eggs.
“There,” said Mrs. Hellman. “A dozen of the best.”
I paid her what she asked and she put the money in a box on a shelf with an air of satisfaction.
I was grateful for the cider and her friendliness. I felt remarkably pleased that we had a near and affable neighbor.
I said, “I am sure we shall want more eggs. Although it’s my sister-in-law who does the housekeeping. Could you send us another dozen in a week’s time?” She beamed her pleasure. “Either I or one of the children will bring them over.” Her eyes sparkled at the prospect. I could see that she was full of curiosity to see what the new neighbors were like; and as I rose to go she said how pleased she was that I had called.
“If there’s one thing I like, it’s being neighborly,” she said. “After all, we’re only here once, aren’t we? We might as well make the most of it. And here we are... out here... away from things, you might say. It’s only good sense that we know each other.”
I agreed with her, said good-bye and carefully carried the eggs back to Gray Stone House.
Roland had returned and he and Phillida greeted me as I came in.
“How are you?” asked Roland anxiously.
“A lot better, thanks. I have been for a long walk and it has been quite interesting. I have met our nearest neighbors and I’ve brought back some eggs. I have ordered a dozen to be sent in a week’s time. Is that all right?”
Phillida seized on the eggs. “Marvelous. Oh, they’re beauties. So we shall have eggs in constant supply.”
“We shan’t need to bring them back from Bracken in the dog cart,” I said.
“What’s this about a dog cart?” asked Roland.
We told him and he thought it was a good idea.
“I was invited in and given some cider,” I told them.
“My goodness,” said Roland with a smile. “You do move fast.”
“The people are very friendly here. They may seem a bit gruff and they are impatient with our more diplomatic Southern ways. Here a spade is called a spade, I gather. That’s what was implied. However, beneath the rough exteriors ...”
“I know,” put in Phillida, “beat hearts of gold. It’s wonderful about the eggs.”
“Their name is Hellman,” I said. “There are two children, Jim and Daisy.”
“You have discovered a lot.”
“I did learn that Mr. Hellman’s grandfather and his father before him farmed on the same land. They’ve got sheep, too, so they know about wool. Mrs. Hellman reckons her husband is on good terms with all the wool people in Bradford.”
“Oh?” said Roland rather quietly.
“Did you tell her we were concerned in the wool trade?” asked Phillida. “Of course. It couldn’t have been all one-sided. She said she had never heard of the Fitzgeralds.”
“I expect she enjoyed your visit,” said Phillida. “It must be lonely for her out here. Visitors would be welcome.”
“I am sure that is so. I’m glad you are pleased about the eggs.”
“Now listen to Roland’s news,” said Phillida.
“I’ve got the horses,” he said. “They are being brought over this afternoon. There will be a nice little chestnut mare for you, Lucie.”
“That’s lovely. And they are coming this afternoon?”
“I asked them to be quick. I want you and Phillida to be satisfied with what you are having.”
“Of course we shall be!” cried Phillida. “Go on, Roland.”
“There is the possibility of a house. It’s just outside the city. It sounds delightful.”
“How old?”
“This will please you. Eighteenth century. It sounds elegant and is quite spacious. As far as I could gather, it has a lot of interesting features.” . “When can we go and see it?”
“The owners are living there. They haven’t moved out yet.”
“That means that it would be a long time before we could move in.”
“No. They are ready to move out as soon as the sale is completed. They are away for a few days, but as soon as they come back we can view it.”
“Isn’t that wonderful!” cried Phillida. “I confess to feeling as impatient as you do.”
“So,” said Roland, “we shall have to wait for a few days till they return, and then... well, let’s hope it is all the agent says it is.”
“So it was a successful morning,” I said.
“Very,” replied Roland. “And the best thing about it all is that you are feeling better.”
“Lunch will be served very soon,” said Phillida. “What about an omelette with Mrs. Hellman’s eggs?”
“That sounds good,” I replied. “I’ll just go up to change my riding boots.”
“Don’t be long. I’ll take the eggs to Kitty.”
I went up to the room I shared with Roland. I don’t want this house, I thought. I shall have to explain to Roland. It isn’t fair to him not to. He’s so kind and thoughtful, and he will notice the difference in me. I must tell him.
I took off my boots and put on a pair of shoes. There was water in the ewer so I washed my hands.
When I went down Phillida and Roland were in the dining room. They were talking very quietly, but with some heat, which was unusual with them. I caught a few snatches of what Phillida was saying. “It’ll have to be soon. It should have been over by now. It’s your fault. You were the one who wanted to wait.” As I entered she stopped abruptly and I fancied she looked a little startled. Then she said lightly, “I was scolding Roland.
I was telling him that if he had gone to see about the horses earlier we should have had them by now.” She laughed. “I was really cross with him which was very wrong of me. Well, you can’t keep an omelette waiting.”
Kitty brought in the food and we all agreed that it was delicious. “The eggs are so fresh,” said Phillida. “Possibly laid this morning. Good for you, Lucie, making such good use of exploring our local color.” A few days passed. Several times I had been on the point of telling Roland that I was in love with Joel and for that reason the relationship could not be the same as it had previously been between us. I reminded myself that I had thought I had loved him, that I had been very eager that we should have a normal and happy marriage. But now that I had seen Joel, talked with him, I realized what I had lost and I could never really be reconciled.
Roland knew I was disturbed and thought it was due to the vision I had seen ... or as he would say, “thought I saw.” He knew I was in a disturbed state. I was indeed-both because of what I had seen and my loss of Joel.
He was not a passionate man. There had been no intensity in his lovemaking. Ignorant as I was of such matters, that thought had only just occurred to me. He was a kind, gentle, sensitive person. His great purpose really did seem to be to comfort me. Sometimes I felt he understood more than anyone else what I had suffered through the loss of my father. I could not have had a more gentle, more kind husband. When we retired and I was alone with him he somehow made me understand that he would make no demands on me. I was upset, he implied. I was going through a bad time. I would get better soon, but in the meantime I needed to be quiet. I needed sleep.