Barbara Erskine

River of Destiny


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the grounds somewhere. Unlikely, though. They have been used. If they were new I would say someone has found a pot of them lying around – though that would most likely have been at my place as that was the forge.’

      ‘How long was it a forge, do you know?’

      He shook his head. ‘No idea. The forge and the smith’s cottage have been converted into one dwelling now, of course, but I sense the forge itself is far older. On an old estate, it is probably as old as the estate itself. It’s in an ideal position for the farm and not too far from the Hall and the stables up there.’

      ‘Did you buy it because it was an old forge?’

      ‘No. In fact that almost put me off.’ He grabbed the next chair and swung it into position.

      ‘No nails.’

      ‘There can’t be an infinite supply of them.’ The last chair back in place, he straightened and headed for the door. ‘I’ll pop over to the Watts’s now, I think, and see if Jeff would be up for wandering over to my place for a bevvy. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t come.’

      ‘Why?’ she said indignantly. ‘It is my house that has the problem.’

      ‘Exactly. I don’t want to put him on the back foot. Leave it to me, OK? I’ll let you know what happens.’

      ‘What is it, Dan?’ Susan was standing watching him. She had been stirring the pan on the stove and he hadn’t noticed her stop and straighten her back, letting the spoon drip on the floor for a moment while she studied him as he sat at the table staring straight ahead of him at the wall.

      He jumped. ‘What did you say?’

      ‘I said, what is wrong?’

      He shook his head. ‘Just tired, I reckon. One of the Suffolks came down today for a new shoe and I pulled my back a bit.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ll have to watch it; I must be getting old.’ He forced a smile as he looked up at her.

      She wasn’t fooled. ‘I’ve never known a horse get the better of you, Daniel Smith, not once in all our years together. Are you sure that’s it?’

      ‘Of course that’s it, woman!’ He pushed back the chair and stood up angrily, swearing as a twinge of pain hit him afresh.

      She turned back to the pan and stood with her back to him. ‘If you say so,’ she murmured.

      He went over to her and put his arms round her. ‘Sorry, Mrs Smith! You’re right, it never happened before. It’s a frightening moment, like a cold wind down one’s neck. Father Time is watching me.’

      She reached up and gave him a kiss on the lips. ‘Father Time will have to fight me for you, Dan,’ she smiled. ‘And this little one too.’ She patted her belly. ‘Now you sit down and get some broth inside you.’

      Going back to the stove, she reached for the bowls, trying hard to push down her increasing sense of unease. Normally when he came in from the horses he went into the back yard to the pump and swilled the cold clean water over his head before he came in for his meal; this time he had already done it at the pump in the yard, and even the wetness of his hair and the smell of carbolic from the soap they kept in a box near the pump for when they needed to scrub up before performing surgery on one of the horses, couldn’t hide the smell of scent – exotic, foreign, musky – the smell she associated with Lady Emily, clinging to his hair, his skin, even his hands.

      She set the bowl in front of him and pushed the bread board over. ‘I’ll get cheese and ham from the pantry.’

      He didn’t react. Once more he was in a world of his own. She walked across to the pantry door and went in. Only there, in the privacy of her own cold, well-stocked shelves, did she let her tears fall where he couldn’t see her.

      ‘Susan?’ He had followed her at last. ‘What is it? Are you in pain?’

      She shook her head, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve.

      ‘Then, my love, tell me. What is it?’ She heard the fear in his voice.

      ‘You think I can’t smell her on you, Dan?’ She turned at last to face him, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘She’s been all over you!’

      He didn’t even try to deny it. He stood there in front of her, paralysed.

      She waited for him to say something, but he just shook his head. He backed out of the small room and headed for the door, grabbing his coat and striding out without a backward glance. His food lay untouched on the table.

      She lay awake a long time that night, conscious every second of the empty half of the bed beside her. She had been too proud to go after him, or ask any of the men if they had seen him. Before she went to bed she had heard the horses come in late from the field, going straight into the old barn to their stalls next to the lame mare, Bella. She pictured them reaching up to tug at the hay racks and searching the mangers for chaff and oats. Once she thought she heard one of the men calling Dan’s name, but maybe it had been her imagination. The yard grew quiet and dark, and at last she had gone up the narrow box staircase to their bedroom. Tired of watching the lazy shadows licking across the rafters of their bedroom ceiling she put out the lamp at last and lay under the covers shivering until at last she dozed off, her hand on the swell of her stomach where she felt, as she lay there alone, the comforting, fluttering signs of the new life inside her. He never came.

      ‘You think it was my kids?’ Jeff was leaning on the garden wall next to Leo, a glass of Adnams in his hand. Both men were pleasantly mellow.

      ‘Yup. It would be just like them.’ Leo was laughing. ‘Go on, deny it.’

      ‘Well. I can and I can’t.’ Jeff took another deep swig of beer. ‘On the one hand it would be just like the boys, you’re right. Right buggers, both of them, but on the other hand, if it happened today they weren’t here.’

      Leo felt a sudden shiver of unease. ‘What do you mean, they weren’t here. Where were they?’

      ‘They went off last night after the barbecue with a mate who lives in Leiston. I made sure he was sober, then we slung them into his van. They’ll all have a lot more fun together than they would loitering round here, and I know they got there because their mother phoned this morning. Sharon doesn’t seem to appreciate what a couple of losers we’ve spawned.’

      Leo looked pained. ‘You don’t mean that.’

      ‘Oh, but I do, mate. I’m sure they’ll be decent enough young men one day, but just now I’ve had it with both of them.’ He took another lingering sip and sighed with pleasure. ‘I love all my kids, Leo, but really they can be a right pain most of the time. You haven’t got kids, have you?’

      Leo hesitated, then shook his head.

      ‘Lucky man.’ Jeff paused. ‘Look at Rosemary and Steve. I don’t think that woman has spoken to her daughter in twenty years.’

      ‘I didn’t know she had a daughter.’

      ‘Oh, yes, and grandkids. Sharon wormed the story out of her. She has never seen her own grandchildren! Can you credit that? Her daughter loathes her so much they won’t even ring her.’

      Leo raised an eyebrow. ‘She is not exactly the cuddly nan one might wish for.’

      Jeff gave a snort of laughter. ‘Good point.’ He took another sip of ale.

      ‘Which leaves us with the puzzle,’ Leo steered the conversation onto safer ground, ‘of who broke into The Old Barn and tried to scare Zoë and Ken by rearranging their furniture.’

      Both men were silent for a while, contemplating the view.

      ‘Have you seen the ghost