Sea Music. Sara MacDonald

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СКАЧАТЬ your own life, Lu, or that you might be influenced by my needs or those of Martha and Fred. I understand how you feel about Cornwall, but there’s always going to be a home for you here. You have your whole life ahead of you with a man you love, who thinks the light shines out of your bottom.’

      Lucy gives a watery grin, then giggles. ‘True. But, Barnes, will you please, please think about getting live-in help? It doesn’t have to be through the agency. There must be retired nurses, people like that. You could move into the cottage, have a bit of space and peace. You need it.’

      ‘Lucy, round-the-clock care is very expensive. The only way we could begin to afford it would be to rent out the cottage again. Don’t forget the cottage does not just belong to me; Anna and I share it.’

      ‘Well, Mother will bloody well have to help financially. It’s about time she took some responsibility. Barnaby, you must have some life, somewhere to shut yourself away. You’ll go mad with carers here all the time –’

      ‘Lucy,’ Barnaby interrupts, ‘I am quite capable of looking after myself. Just think what you want to do, what will make you happy, and do it.’

      The phone goes suddenly, making them both jump. Barnaby’s heart sinks; he knows who it will be.

      ‘That will be Anna,’ Lucy says, ‘with a guilty Sunday duty call. Don’t let her get to you, Barnes.’

      But Barnaby is already tense, and listening to Anna’s firm, confident voice puts him more on edge. She is about to take a short break and would like to come down with Rudi to see Martha and Fred. She presumes it will be all right if they stay in the house as she would rather not inflict the cottage and Lucy’s lack of hygiene on Rudi.

      Barnaby swallows his annoyance. ‘Anna, it’s not all right, I’m afraid. The carers arrive early. There is chaos in the mornings with only one bathroom. You’ll also find Martha and Fred very confused, especially with anyone they don’t know. I’m sorry, but it’s not fair on the carers, and I couldn’t cope with two extra people in the house either. Could you come down on your own this time and stay at the cottage? It’s some time since you last saw Martha and Fred and I’m afraid you will notice a difference.’

      Anna is annoyed and snaps back at him, ‘You are evidently finding it difficult to cope, Barnaby. You should have let me know. It’s obviously time we thought about a home. We’d better talk about it when I come down.’

      Barnaby explodes. ‘We most certainly will not! I can’t believe you are even suggesting it, Anna. Come down and see for yourself before you start making comments like that. I’ll get Lucy to tidy the cottage before you arrive.’

      He waves at Lucy to be quiet. She is jumping up and down and punching the air, sticking her thumbs up to the sky.

      ‘Of course I haven’t any objection to you coming down with Rudi …’ Barnaby takes a deep breath. ‘It’s just that if you come down on your own, you could spend a little time with Martha and Fred, Anna. Have a holiday with Rudi another time. Fred, especially, will appreciate you coming. Please think about it and let me know. Good night.’

      Barnaby finds he is trembling with weariness and suppressed rage as he replaces the receiver. Anna continues to be one of the most self-centred people he has ever come across.

      Lucy is still hopping up and down. ‘She is such a totally selfish human being,’ she echoes. ‘Don’t tell me it’s wrong to dislike my own mother sometimes, Barnes. She makes me furious. Does she ever ask you how you are? Does she, hell! Thank God you stood your ground. She’s got such a bloody cheek. Sorry, I’m knackered … Got to go to bed …’ Lucy wilts, suddenly exhausted.

      Barnaby kisses her good night. ‘Sleep well,’ he says drily. ‘Having a vicar as an uncle has done nothing to improve your language.’

      He watches her walk across the damp grass and disappear through the little gate to the cottage. How could Anna have produced this child he loves so dearly?

      The curlews down on the estuary warble mournfully into the darkness. Startling himself, Barnaby admits suddenly that he too can actively dislike his sister. Not only does he wish her in outer Mongolia, but he realises he has always felt like this.

      Martha’s memories, so long suppressed and left behind, are beginning to surface slowly and slyly, like bubbles. Time for Martha has become meaningless. Past and present merge and blur. Voices and faces pass like shadows across her mind, throwing up long-forgotten lives. Those lives seem so real to Martha, so near, as if she can open a door and move into the rooms of her past life once more. Those far-gone lives of her childhood draw her back with long tentacle arms, to enfold her in their sense of nearness.

      She reaches out to touch the fleeting sleeve of a dress, the rough tweed of a jacket. She smells fresh bread in the oven. She sees faces she loves bending to her, smiling, chiding her wildness. With longing, she lifts her head to feel their breath upon her cheek, turns to catch the sound of faint laughter and the warmth of a hand.

      She listens to the wind rattling the long windows so that the sound echoes through the house, shutting doors with a sudden click, moving the curtains outwards, lifting the rug in little tremors, like ghostly footsteps through the hall.

      Mama and Papa are having tea with the German doctor and his wife. Marta and Mama and Papa have travelled from Łódź all the way to Warsaw by train to see him. Marta has been sent into the garden with the doctor’s small boy and the nursemaid. The nursemaid is not watching them, she is flirting with the gardener.

      Marta stares at the German boy with fascination. He has the whitest blond hair, very blue eyes and white, white teeth. He is wearing lederhosen and a pale shirt, and his bare arms and legs are brown and smooth as apples. He stares back at Marta disdainfully. He does not like to be sent outside to play with a girl.

      Marta stands on the terrace steps, wary and a little frightened, like a small rabbit ready for flight. The boy puts his hands on his hips and, coming closer, looks down at her.

      ‘How old are you?’ he asks.

      ‘I am five,’ Marta says, trying to make herself tall.

      The boy is pleased. ‘Well, I am older, I am eight. Mutti says I am going to be much taller than my father.’ There is a silence. Then he says in a bored voice, ‘Come, I am going to go and see the horses.’

      He turns and marches away towards the stables. Marta follows him. She is afraid of horses, but she is not going to say so.

      The horses are standing looking out of their stalls, shaking their great heads against the flies. They are groomed to a shiny perfection, their manes shimmer as they toss their heads.

      The boy goes to a big stallion. ‘This is Tylicz, My favourite horse. When I am older I will ride him, but at the moment he is too big and strong.’ He takes an apple out of his pocket and turns to Marta. ‘Here, you may feed him if you like. Give this to Tylicz.’

      He is watching her closely and he smiles suddenly. She is growing pale at the thought of approaching that huge mouth. He knows, he knows I am afraid, Marta thinks.

      The boy places the apple in her hand and leads her towards Tylicz. Desperately, she tries to hang back, but the boy pulls her sharply forward, tells her there is nothing to be afraid of and lifts her clumsily towards the great head of the horse. Marta screams as his long yellow teeth reach out towards her. She drops the apple and jerks away. The boy loses his СКАЧАТЬ