‘I’m right here with you,’ Will said, taking my hand as we exited the car and headed towards the front door.
He’d been my rock this past fortnight. Most of the time, I’d felt pretty steady but, every so often, a wave of grief or anger crashed over me. Will had let me rant and held me as I cried but I made sure it wasn’t me doing all the taking. He still had a lot going on and I was there for him as much as he was for me. I’d already told him that, as soon as the legalities were sorted around Marianne’s estate, I’d be giving him the money from the sale of the smallholding to pass onto Aaron. He’d refused, of course, so I’d told him to consider it a loan until his house sale went through if that made it easier to accept. It was obvious how great a weight that had lifted from him, knowing he could finally do something to help his friend.
‘Ready?’ Will asked as we reached the farmhouse door.
I nodded and Will knocked. A little girl – maybe aged eight or nine – answered the door, which threw me.
‘Hi, erm… I’m looking for…’ I realised too late that I didn’t actually know the name of Richard’s wife.
‘Nanna!’ the girl shouted. ‘There’s some people at the door.’
‘What have I told you about answering the door to strangers?’ a woman called, appearing in the porch and shooing the girl into the room she’d emerged from.
She looked up and I placed her in her mid-seventies so hopefully this was the right person.
‘Are you Richard Farrow’s wife?’ I asked.
‘Yes. Who’s asking?’
‘My name’s Yvonne. I used to live at number four…’ I pointed in the direction of the lane, ‘and I was…’
I tailed off as her eyes widened and she clapped her hand to her chest. ‘Oh, my goodness, you look just like him.’
‘You know who I am?’ I asked, shocked by her reaction.
She nodded. ‘Richard’s daughter. I heard that Marianne had passed and I wondered if you’d visit. Come in.’
‘You’re sure?’ I’d never in a million years have predicted a reaction like this.
She gave me a warm smile. ‘It’s what Richard would have wanted.’
May had been full of unexpected moments and my visit to Hayscroft Farm was yet another of them. Richard’s wife, Rosalind, had known about me for years. She maintained the farm’s accounts so there was no way Richard could have bought the smallholding without her noticing. Therefore, when Marianne presented him with the ultimatum, he decided to come clean himself. She’d always known he was harbouring an enormous secret and figured he’d let her in on it one day. It was Rosalind who’d suggested a payment over and above what the land was worth as some sort of recompense for what had happened.
Rosalind wasn’t a jealous woman. She trusted her husband implicitly and knew he loved her in his own way, even if Marianne was the one who’d always held his heart. She was aware that Marianne and Richard had talked occasionally and that the feelings were still there along with a lot of regret, but she’d known that nothing would come of it. Their time had passed.
Richard and Rosalind’s three children – a girl and two boys – didn’t know anything about me but, with my agreement, Rosalind wanted to tell them and let them decide whether they wanted to meet me or not. I hadn’t thought beyond half-siblings so another surprise was discovering that Richard and Rosalind had seven grandchildren aged twenty-four down to five and that the eldest of those had a two-year-old daughter. My brain hurt working out their relationship to me – half-nephews, half-nieces and a great-half-niece? I gave Rosalind permission to tell them all when she was ready and assured her I wouldn’t try to force a relationship if they didn’t want one. I’d had plenty of practice at that!
Before Will and I left, Rosalind gave us permission to scatter Marianne’s ashes where the shepherd’s hut had been and confirmed that Richard’s had been scattered there. I came away in awe of what a strong woman she was, understanding and accepting that her husband’s heart belonged to another but the love he had for her was enough to make their marriage work.
A few days later, on a beautiful May Tuesday, Marianne was cremated. We’d considered closing Created With Love for the day so that Milly, Paulette and Christian could attend the service but, with it being the half-term holiday, trade was busy so closing wasn’t ideal. Kelly adjusted the rota at The White Willow so that Saffy could work in the shop and Autumn kindly offered to help her. Veronica and Laughlin were now in Germany and fully aware of the situation. They’d offered to fly back but I wouldn’t hear of it. I knew they were thinking of me and that was enough. Will was by my side, of course, and so was Fen who I adored. Marianne’s neighbour Amelia came with her family and I noticed Rosalind slipping into the back of the room and slipping out again before the service ended.
Will and I collected Marianne’s ashes on the Thursday to scatter on Hayscroft Farm. Rosalind had given me directions to the correct field, just in case I couldn’t remember the way, and had told me she’d leave a flag where the hut had been, which I really appreciated because, without the shepherd’s hut, it looked like any other field to me. Standing beside the flag, I didn’t know what to say. I had no speech prepared and to make something up felt hypocritical. Through repeated listens to the tape, I felt like I understood Marianne better but I still didn’t know her. She’d never given me that chance.
I lifted the lid from the box. ‘Hope you’re finally reunited with Richard,’ I said as I emptied the contents.
I turned to Will, feeling panicky. ‘I don’t know what else to say.’
‘Then don’t say anything.’
‘But I feel like I’ve let her down.’
He put his arm around me, drew me to his side and kissed the top of my head. ‘All she wanted was for you to scatter her ashes here and that’s what you’ve done. You don’t need to do anything else.’
Feeling reassured, I looked up at the clouds. Wherever Marianne was, I hope she’d found peace, love and happiness at last. I wished things had been different between us and it was comforting to know from the tape that she’d wished the same.
Will pointed to a cloud. ‘That looks like a lily pad.’
And it did. I smiled as ‘Clair de Lune’ played in my head. ‘If Marianne’s up there, I think Mum’s with her too.’
