Secrets of the Heart

‘Go and get dressed, Andrew.’

Out of the same habit, he obeyed, and Penny cursed herself for being so practical and bossy. Perhaps she should try to say something. Now. Tell him of her mistake, her terrible mistake. Despite the magazines, her habit of reticence, and of hiding behind briskness, was ingrained. She was not good on the emotional stuff, and talk of the counsellors with whom some of her friends had ended up made her cringe. She decanted soap powder into the tray. These were naked areas, best kept private.

Andrew reappeared in clothes that were in no better shape. Penny scented her opportunity. Clearly the house needed to be taken in hand, actually a thorough overhaul was required, and if necessary she could spin it out for the whole day.

While he was changing she had whipped up one of her nourishing, quickie soups, with the already diced veg she had brought over in Tupperware boxes, and gave it to Andrew, who spooned it up hungrily. As hungrily, she watched. It was one of the better things of her life, dispensing food and comfort. ‘I don’t think you’re looking after yourself.’

He brushed aside her concern. ‘I’m fine. You needn’t bother about me.’

She flinched. ‘I am bothered about you.’

He did not even look up. ‘Not any more, Pen. You concentrate on Bob.’

Andrew…’ Penny searched down the inarticulate years of marriage to find the right words. ‘I could be bothered again. I mean… Bob is, well, not so very important to me.’

He shook his head and put down the spoon. ‘Thanks, Pen, but I don’t think so.’

It was at this moment that Penny made a discovery: if driven into a corner, it was possible to be other than yourself. She came out fighting. ‘Don’t be a fool, Andrew. You can’t run the farm on your own. God knows, it needs more than two. And if we – I mean, you – are to fight the planners all the way we – you – have to show that we have a thriving enterprise.’

Her vehemence struck home. ‘True. I must think about it.’

‘How are sales of the meat?’

‘Take a look at the accounts, if you like. They’re half yours.’

‘So they are.’ Penny had quite forgotten her material interest in the farm, which was indicative of her confusion and her doubts.

‘But not Bob’s, mind. Remember that. He can’t have a penny.’

‘Of course.’

Let her husband be as angry, vicious and unfair as he could be over Bob. Throw down the gauntlet It would prove that he felt something. That was what she wanted.

He needed feeding up so badly. Penny got up to butter a slice of bread and put it in front of him. ‘Look, I’ll bring some more food over.’

He shrugged, but she could tell that he did not dismiss the idea out of hand, which was good. ‘If you like.’

As a come-on it wasn’t that hot, but it was better than a definite rejection. Penny was not sure but she had an impression that Andrew was registering her properly for the first time in a long while and she burst out, ‘I can’t bear this business with Stone any longer. It’s gone on long enough. It’s not fair.’

‘Who said life is?’

Penny drew in a deep breath and put down her marker. ‘I’ll come over with the food this afternoon.’ Perhaps I can slide back into my place easily and quietly, and then we’ll continue as we were. It’s possible. It has been known. Lots of people do it. They break up, have a fling, come back, because habits are strong and it’s better the devil you know.

Penny did not quite understand why she was doing what she was doing, or why she had done what she had – only that her marriage was an anchor and she had hauled it up without thinking properly.

If she was truthful, she blamed the magazines.

Andrew looked at a point above her head. ‘Penny, you made your decision and I accept it. I can’t say it didn’t hurt at the time. It did.’

I must cling on to that, she thought. He did mind.

Then Andrew spoiled it by saying, ‘You must get on with your life with Bob, I’ll deal with the farm. I’ll make sure you get your cut.’ He paused. ‘Whatever happens.’

The disappointment was so overwhelming that Penny almost choked, and it was doubly bitter for being self- inflicted. She thought back over the years when she had lived and worked alongside her husband, knowing that they had lost the point of contact, neither understanding the other. How she had toiled and made do, and lost her looks in the process.

But it had been better than nothing.

‘Maybe. There’s going to be some changes, anyway,’ he said.

‘Oh?’ She flinched at his expression, which had switched suddenly to one of joy and hope, quite different from the Andrew she knew. ‘What changes?’

‘Someone is coming to live here.’

‘Who? Who?’

‘Agnes.’

Penny clutched the bread-knife. ‘The television person? She won’t come here. Not in a million years.’

‘We haven’t sorted out the details, but we will.’

Shaken by awful, debilitating doubt, Penny sat down. I must not scream. ‘ Andrew, please think. Is this just another bee in your bonnet? You know what happens when you get one of those. Hedgerows, pesticides, you name it.’ She sighed. ‘We’ve been there.’

‘I’ve been thinking about a divorce, Pen.’

She forced herself to remain rigid but the word ‘divorce’ sprouted fins and a sharp point that buried itself in her chest. And what did she say when you asked her to live here?’

He got up to fetch his boots from the passage and wrestled with a knot in the laces.

‘I see,’ said Penny. ‘Can’t take the hard work?’

‘I know what you’re thinking about her but you’re wrong. Agnes understands.’

She wanted to lash out: I understand too. But her flare of combativeness had been doused by misery. ‘Andrew, I know how you work. You see yourself as some kind of white knight battling with baddies out for profit. You reckon you’re going to save the world.’

‘Someone has to.’ The blue eyes masked deep waters. ‘But it’s more modest than that. At the moment, I just want to save my farm.’ He fiddled with the lace then handed over the boot to Penny. ‘You’re much better at knots, Pen, could you do that one for me?’

Penny’s fingers rattled at the knot. It was all very well, but martyrs and warriors were so extreme and unreliable. So inappropriate in an age that had parted the heavens and explained space. At this point, Penny checked herself. If any progress was to be made between them, she must make an effort to understand and to get round the problem. ‘Here,’ she said, and handed him back his boot with the knot untied. I know what he thinks of me. He thinks my dreams are the earthy, non-visionary type, and I’m not capable of anything, but I do possess a soul like this Agnes woman, and I can, if I want, lay claim to those feelings.

Andrew glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘I’ve got to get on. I’m a bit worried about Molly and I must check her out. She hasn’t picked up since her calf.’

‘Is she eating?’

‘Sort of. But she doesn’t look right.’

‘Bring her in, then.’

He considered. ‘Yes, I think I will for a day or two, that’s a good idea. She won’t like it, though, will she? I’ll see you,’ said Andrew, tying the final lace. ‘Sometime.’

Left alone, Penny went into Andrew’s study and flicked up Molly’s record on the computer screen. It was as immaculate and up-to-date as she expected. Nothing deflected Andrew from the business of the farm. Not sickness, or worry, nothing. Thinking hard, she sat down in the swivel chair and turned it so that she had the best view of the oaks.

If she was going to reclaim her husband, Penny would have to move back into her own home