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Authors: Stuart Harrison
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town, and he changed the route of his run in the morning. He reverted to his studies for solace, and spent long hours in his room reading Homer and Ovid. He ended the academic year with distinction, though he didn’t know what good it would do him. On his way to the station, when he finally left Oundle for the last time, he saw a familiar figure come out of a shop door in the square. His heart leapt when he saw it was Emmaline, but she was with a young man he didn’t recognise. They seemed to know each other well. Then the cart turned the corner and they were lost from sight.
*****
William’s father met William at the station in Brixworth, and they drove home along the narrow lanes between hedgerows thick with rosehip and blackberry bushes, to the plodding clop of the horse’s hooves.
‘Will you take the reins, Will?’ his father asked. He looked unwell again, though he claimed to be alright. ‘I feel tired, that’s all,’ he said.
‘Lean against me and close your eyes if you like,’ William offered.
He had no idea what he was going to do. He supposed he’d help his father at the forge. He’d been thinking about what the doctor had said about there being a need for a local place to mend the motorcars in the district. It wasn’t what he’d envisaged doing with his classical education, but he admitted he was interested in mechanics, and who knew what opportunities there might be if he put his mind to it. The world was changing quickly. He thought he would do better in a town though, perhaps somewhere like Northampton. He decided he’d talk to his father about the idea of them both moving away from Scaldwell, though he’d wait a few weeks and allow things to settle.
Before they reached the village, William stopped the horse because his father had fallen asleep. He was slumped heavily against him and in danger of toppling off the cart. But when he tried to wake him, William realised that his father had died. Gently he laid him down in the back. He looked peaceful. William wiped away the tears that came to his eyes. A feeling of profound loneliness descended over him.
CHAPTER 5
John Reynolds was buried in the churchyard beside his wife’s grave. After the funeral one or two of the mourners approached William to say they were sorry and he thanked them, and then neither they nor he could think of anything else to add. A young woman with hair the colour of straw lingered until the others had all gone.
‘D’you remember me, Will?’ she asked.
For a moment he was at a loss, but then he did. ‘Yes, you’re Sally,’ he said. A vivid memory of that day in the wheat field came back to him, and he thought that if he had moved a moment sooner how different his life might have been.
‘I’m sorry ‘bout yer dad.’
‘Thank you.’ He was grateful to her for staying behind. He asked how she was, and she told him she worked for a farmer and his wife as a housemaid.
‘It’s hard work and I don’t get much time off, but they treat me well.’
‘Would you like to go for a walk?’ he asked, thinking that they could reminisce about when they were young and he could avoid returning to the empty cottage.
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to get back.’
‘Of course,’ he said, disappointed.
There was an awkward moment, then Sally brightened. ‘I’m gettin’ married next year.’
He congratulated her, though she seemed young. She told him her fiancé worked on a farm at Lamport.
‘Now you’re back again, will you come to the wedding?’
He thanked her, but said he didn’t think he would be staying in Scaldwell. He didn’t belong there anymore, he thought, though he didn’t say that.
‘Good luck then,’ she said.
‘Thanks. Good luck to you too.’
As she left, she looked back and smiled. He almost called out to her, but he didn’t know what he would say, and so he simply watched her go down the path until she was lost from his sight.
A week later he
*****
William’s father met William at the station in Brixworth, and they drove home along the narrow lanes between hedgerows thick with rosehip and blackberry bushes, to the plodding clop of the horse’s hooves.
‘Will you take the reins, Will?’ his father asked. He looked unwell again, though he claimed to be alright. ‘I feel tired, that’s all,’ he said.
‘Lean against me and close your eyes if you like,’ William offered.
He had no idea what he was going to do. He supposed he’d help his father at the forge. He’d been thinking about what the doctor had said about there being a need for a local place to mend the motorcars in the district. It wasn’t what he’d envisaged doing with his classical education, but he admitted he was interested in mechanics, and who knew what opportunities there might be if he put his mind to it. The world was changing quickly. He thought he would do better in a town though, perhaps somewhere like Northampton. He decided he’d talk to his father about the idea of them both moving away from Scaldwell, though he’d wait a few weeks and allow things to settle.
Before they reached the village, William stopped the horse because his father had fallen asleep. He was slumped heavily against him and in danger of toppling off the cart. But when he tried to wake him, William realised that his father had died. Gently he laid him down in the back. He looked peaceful. William wiped away the tears that came to his eyes. A feeling of profound loneliness descended over him.
CHAPTER 5
John Reynolds was buried in the churchyard beside his wife’s grave. After the funeral one or two of the mourners approached William to say they were sorry and he thanked them, and then neither they nor he could think of anything else to add. A young woman with hair the colour of straw lingered until the others had all gone.
‘D’you remember me, Will?’ she asked.
For a moment he was at a loss, but then he did. ‘Yes, you’re Sally,’ he said. A vivid memory of that day in the wheat field came back to him, and he thought that if he had moved a moment sooner how different his life might have been.
‘I’m sorry ‘bout yer dad.’
‘Thank you.’ He was grateful to her for staying behind. He asked how she was, and she told him she worked for a farmer and his wife as a housemaid.
‘It’s hard work and I don’t get much time off, but they treat me well.’
‘Would you like to go for a walk?’ he asked, thinking that they could reminisce about when they were young and he could avoid returning to the empty cottage.
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to get back.’
‘Of course,’ he said, disappointed.
There was an awkward moment, then Sally brightened. ‘I’m gettin’ married next year.’
He congratulated her, though she seemed young. She told him her fiancé worked on a farm at Lamport.
‘Now you’re back again, will you come to the wedding?’
He thanked her, but said he didn’t think he would be staying in Scaldwell. He didn’t belong there anymore, he thought, though he didn’t say that.
‘Good luck then,’ she said.
‘Thanks. Good luck to you too.’
As she left, she looked back and smiled. He almost called out to her, but he didn’t know what he would say, and so he simply watched her go down the path until she was lost from his sight.
A week later he
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