Chapter 28

On the evening of the visit to the clinic Kate was desperate to speak to her mum and the conversation was as might be expected between them. Ginika could barely contain her excitement and longed to be with Kate to hug and congratulate her personally. They had to content themselves with the sharing of tears of joy during the Skype call and the promise of the professor's visit to the UK, which had already been planned for the following month. Much to Kate's pleasure her mum gave some news of her own, namely that she had decided to retire. Kate shrieked with exhilaration for the second time in less than twelve hours. Caroline had left Kate to the call but hurried back to the lounge when she heard the excitement.

'I know we talked of it, mum, but you had always said you were not ready yet. I know you well enough to know that this isn't a knee-jerk reaction to the baby news but are you really sure?'

'I am, Kate. Really, really sure. I've achieved all that I set out to do and the long and the short of it is that I felt that it was time. I've given my notice but agreed to stay on until Christmas to enable an effective handover to whoever my successor might be so I'll be back in the UK before my grandchild is born! While not the cause of my decision, it seems to me now that the baby news is further confirmation that it's the right one.' Seeing Caroline appear at Kate's side on the sofa she reiterated her congratulations, which Caroline replied to without her customary reticence.

'We are SO excited, Ginika. You can see the width of our grins. We haven't stopped smiling since we were given the news this morning and my jaw is beginning to hurt! But we've got to hold it in for a while longer. As I'm sure Kate will have mentioned, together with Lawrence you're sworn to secrecy for a few days until we tell the rest of the family. We know it's early days but we're determined not to spend the rest of the nine months with anything other than optimism and the celebrations will start in earnest on Sunday. Anyway, what's happening with you that has caused such a reaction from Kate?'

Ginika repeated her news and Caroline was as thrilled as her wife. She knew how much Kate missed having her mum near at hand. Personally, she was looking forward to spending time with this big-hearted intellectual, so different from Celia as it was possible to be. The women took the opportunity to finalise the arrangements for Ginika's up-and-coming holiday with them and the call only ended when Ginika had to sign off to attend brunch with friends. Kate felt that should might burst with joy, so wonderful was the news of the day.

Sunday's weather forecast was for a dry and bright day and Kate suggested that they might have a barbecue. Caroline was more than happy to go along with Kate's idea as she knew Lawrence liked nothing better than to be the master of the coals and it would mean that they could have more time to spend with the family. Caroline's heart sank when she went into the garden on the Saturday afternoon however. The outside chairs had certainly been neglected since John left. While he had little interest in gardening (which is why Caroline had long since employed a local company to trim the lawns and hedges) he had always taken responsibility for the furniture. The benches were mossy and the once pale-blue fabric chairs repulsively dirty. The wooden tables were hardly in better condition and she couldn't imagine anyone wanting to use any of them.

As Caroline stood in the centre of the lawn and considered the task her eyes were drawn to the deck chair beside patio heater. Her mind was instantly transported to the time when John returned home the morning after Celia's engagement party. There he sat with his supercilious grin, whisky in one hand and cigarette in the other, listening to 'The Archers' until Caroline had drenched him with a well-directed bucket of water. The memory of the sight initially generated a smile but that faded quickly as she was reminded of the anger and circumstances that had engendered her actions. Kate had been watching from the window and came out to join her, mug of steaming tea in each hand.

'Penny for them?'

'Gosh, Kate, I didn't hear or see you approach.' She reached out to take the proffered tea and encircled Kate's waist with her free arm, appreciating the feel of skin through her wife's silky summer blouse. 'Thanks for the tea. Look at the state of the furniture! We'll need to put some time into cleaning things up before tomorrow.' Then, seeing by Kate's expression that she had not been taken in by her upbeat tone, continued more genuinely. 'Uh! I was just remembering the time I threw water all over John. Do you remember; you spent some time here that afternoon? John wasn't the only one to be told a few home truths that day. You summed me up so very well. I was a selfish individual where you were concerned, expecting – almost demanding - unconditional devotion and giving scraps in return.'

'Yes, I remember that day. Neither of us came away from that time with any merit.' Kate adjusted her stance so that they could snuggle closer and she buried her head onto Caroline's shoulder. With an attempt to lighten the mood, she chuckled. 'Perhaps we should write a book?'

'Heck, no. That was another one of John's ridiculous ideas as I'm sure you remember. Or Judith's, if you can believe she had enough functioning brain cells!'

At that very moment Lawrence and Angus sauntered into the garden, dropping rucksacks onto the patio.

'What's to eat, ma? We're starving. Forty lengths each at the swimming pool and then we found out the café was closed! I could eat for England and Angus can have any crumbs that are left!'

'You know where the kitchen is!' his mum replied. 'I'm trying to think what to do with this furniture so we're ready for the hordes tomorrow.'

Lawrence glanced around the garden and whispered something to Angus, who nodded and grinned in reply.

'How's this for a deal? You and Kate make some food and we'll clean the seating? Dad would never let me get my hands on the jet-washer and that's what's needed. It'll be fun. I've seen him do it loads of times. Grub first, work after? Yeah?!'

'Ok but please don't use such a common expression. I do not make 'grub'. You had better hope that I don't live to regret this. Come on, Kate, duty calls. I'll cook while you can write the shopping list. Oh, and Lawrence, you can hang your wet swimming gear out unless you're planning on doing the jet-washing in your trunks!'

ooOoo

'Where's Gillian?' Robbie asked of Celia as he arrived home. The newlyweds were barely talking and much of their verbal interaction was done via third parties. But, he thought to himself as he looked upwards as if through the ceiling, their physical relationship had barely been better than over the previous few days. Gillian appeared insatiable and he was only too happy to oblige. It didn't make sense to him why there should be such disparity between the two means of communicating but he wasn't one to spend much thought on the reasons behind it all. Realising then that he had not received a reply 'Celia? Gillian?'

'Sorry, Robbie, hello. What was that? I was absorbed in this Mail crossword and didn't hear you. I think they must have changed the compiler as I'm not getting on very well today. I refuse to admit that it's my fault, of course!' Celia was chirpy and, despite her propensity for mischief, had a soft spot for Robbie and put herself out to smooth paths for him.

'Gillian? Any idea on whereabouts?'

'Oh, yes. She's in the barn putting away something or other. She said for you to give her a hand if you got back before she'd finished. Alan's having a rest and Raff and co have gone to see Ellie's mum. You're to pick them up in the morning on the way to Harrogate. Something's going on there, I reckon. Totally loved up, suddenly. Raff and Ellie I mean, not her mum and that dipstick of a father. I'll put the kettle on and start tea. Maybe a break from thinking will help rejig my brain.'

Robbie was about to dip in to the biscuit tin on his way through the kitchen but a quick feel of his midriff convinced him to wait until later. As was usual on his early shifts he had managed to free up enough time to pick up a McDonald's breakfast and a colleague had brought in cream cakes so there was no possibility that he was hungry. He couldn't risk developing a bigger beer gut than he had already or he knew that his wife would not hesitate to comment.

Gillian was in the loft of the barn and as he climbed the wooden ladder to join her he made a mental note that it had seen better days and needed some attention.

'What help is needed then?' he asked tersely.

'Oh, you're too late. As per usual!' she muttered mockingly as he sat on the hay bale beside her. 'I'm not reliant on a man. Well, for much. Look at these.' She flexed her right bicep.

'Impressive.' He wasn't returning Gillian's sarcasm. He appreciated the litheness of her frame and reached out his hand to touch the displayed muscle before allowing his hand to wander tentatively towards the open neck of her shirt. Her actions showed acceptance of the idea and they took what they appreciated from one other without any further foreplay or conversation.

'Any shag, no matter its quality, is always better followed by a cup of tea.' Gillian tormented as she began to re-dress without preamble. 'Last one indoors makes the cuppa AND cooks tonight.'

Robbie appreciated the banter. It wasn't what he wanted as conversation within a relationship but it was an improvement on the quality and quantity of their recent exchanges. He had removed rather fewer clothes than his wife which meant that he could re-dress more quickly and he reached the loft opening first. But the speed of his actions, his weight and the rickety state of the ladder were a bad combination and having successfully negotiated the first two rungs, he then plunged to the bottom. Gillian was not watching but heard enough to know, or at least guess, what had happened and she rushed to the edge of the loft to look. An inert Robbie was spread-eagled on his back with his left leg wedged between the lower two rungs of the ladder.

'Robbie! Oh shit!' Her screams pierced the air as she gingerly began the descent. Despite her frantic and speedy response, the farmer was alert enough to notice that the third rung down was hanging by a few splinters and managed to reach the bottom of the ladder in safety.

'Robbie!' she shook her husband by the shoulders, not considering that she might be adding to his injuries. 'Wake up!'

Her yells did not provoke a response and, realising that medical attention was required, she ran out of the barn as if her life depended on it.

'Celia! Quick!' she bellowed as she ran into the house.

'What's the..'

Her step-daughter interrupted her, without any degree of civility. 'Listen. Ring the ambulance. Robbie's unconscious on the barn floor. He's fallen. Quick, please God, be quick! Just do it, Celia.' She disappeared again before her step-mother had the opportunity to fully absorb the information although the older woman had already begun to walk towards the landline, her reactions almost involuntarily.

Having rushed back to the barn, an anguished Gillian threw herself onto her knees beside her injured husband. She looked upwards, her face etched with grief.

'Not again. Not again. This can't be happening to me. Wake up Robbie, wake up. Oh shit. Who is going to believe that I didn't have something to do with it if you die.' Her speech rambled from self-pity to despair and her brain seemed to lose all circumspection.

'He was….it's not the same, Robbie. I didn't want him to keep hitting me, that's all. That's why it happened. Why I did it….I couldn't walk away from him. From the farm. It was MY farm. MY dream. I couldn't go. You know what he was like. That day, he was just like a rabid dog. I was petrified. Please don't die. He kept taunting me. Pretending to hit me. The fear. Oh, the fear. Looking around this barn now, I can still feel that torment. Wake up.' Tears began to flow and she rambled between the present and the past until she was vaguely aware of Celia by her side.

'I've got the ambulance operator on the phone. They're on their way. We're not to touch him. Gillian, check his breathing. The lady's saying to count it out to her.'

Gillian's eyes were glazed over, her brain too preoccupied to react. Celia was nothing if not capable. Realising that she needed to take charge of the situation she thrust Gillian out of the way and with a shaking hand held the cordless handset to her left ear, continuing to respond appropriately to the emergency in front of her. Gillian stood and walked aimlessly around the barn, muttering and sobbing, until she was disturbed from her distress by the sirens and then the quick thumps of speeding tyres on the grated entrance to the yard.