Chapter Nine
A week had passed since Hal had met Paddy and he hadn’t had a day’s peace since. He knew he had almost upended everything and had to silence a little voice that said upending everything would be a good thing.
He’d met Bianca shortly after he’d been discharged. She always seemed to be at the same events that he was, and was good for a laugh. They’d dated for a bit but it hadn’t been working out. Just as he was about to call it a day, she announced she was pregnant and his world crashed. He had always assumed he would get married and start a family. Just not with Bianca. It seemed, however, that fate had different ideas and he rushed to get an engagement ring and she had said yes, just as quickly. Two weeks after that she told him she had lost the baby. That was two months ago but it hadn’t stopped Bianca’s astonishing efforts at getting the wedding underway.
Bianca had apparently been devastated and Hal had been at a loss as to how to console her. His own pain was surprisingly raw but he knew better than to voice it. Eventually, she had suggested some retail therapy might help and he readily agreed. He had been surprised just how effective it had been. A week later it was as though nothing had happened to her, and yet Hal still felt a yawning hole. What was worse was that he knew his feelings for Bianca had changed. He admonished himself; of course he was still going to marry her. What would that say about him if he called the engagement off now? Surely it would suggest he had only proposed because she was pregnant. And yet, that was, of course, the case.
For a change, the winter skies were bright blue and whilst that meant the air was colder than normal, it was at least dry. After a mild and damp Christmas, Hal felt his county had forgotten how to do festive weather. Now crunching through the leaves and twigs, his dogs bounding in and out of the fields, Hal felt a hollow sham. The haunting call of the curlews drifted up from a nearby river and Hal was surprised by how far the sound had carried; he was several miles from any estuary, maybe they were just flying through. He however, had made his bed and now had to lie in it.
His thoughts drifted as he walked down to the livestock pens. He had managed to reassure Bianca nothing was wrong but he was racked with guilt.
‘So why would a hotel receptionist be answering your phone?’ her voice had been hard when he had dashed up to London to reassure her.
‘Because my hands were full.’
‘Of what? Her?’
Hal had taken a deep breath; it was probably best to make a clean break of it but just as he was about to speak, she rushed to interrupt him.
‘Ignore me. I’m sorry,’ she wiped a tear away and continued, ‘my damn emotions are such a mess since I lost the baby. Forgive me?’ As she cuddled into him, Hal had felt his heart sink further.
She deserved a lot better and he was determined to live up to the man his mother would have expected him to be. Just because Bianca had lost the baby didn’t mean they couldn’t have another one. He needed to grow up and start behaving responsibly. He had asked her to be his wife and she deserved his respect and his fidelity. He decided Paddy had been a test. A test he had failed woefully but one he was determined to improve on. He was never going to see Paddy again and he needed to get on with his life. Get married, settle down, help run the estate. Sorted. Dismissing thoughts of pale skin and red hair draped over a freckled shoulder, he tried to focus on the job in hand. Her green eyes flashing with laughter under her auburn lashes. It was hard though. Everywhere he looked he saw her smile, out of the corner of his eye. Every conversation he had, he wanted to ask her opinion on it. He had revelled in how he felt in her company. Nothing seemed complicated or burdened; he felt he was with someone he had known all his life. Like a sister or a best friend, and yet he imagined he would be facing a very long jail sentence if he thought about a sister the way he did Paddy.
Coughing, he tried to banish her again from his mind and turned his thoughts instead to the new estate developments he was putting in place. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t hear any sounds of work from the new livestock pens. He had walked from the house enjoying the chance to stretch his legs in the dry and had taken the longer route to the lower meadows. Checking his watch he saw it was already nine. Surely everyone should be at work. It seemed a bit early for a crib break.
As he walked into the yard, he could see Brian hauling some of the feed sacks from the back of a pickup but the new buildings were an abandoned outline of half started breeze blocks.
‘These feed sacks never seem to get any lighter, do they?’ puffed Hal as he threw one up onto his shoulder. Walking towards one of the old pens, Hal nodded towards the breeze blocks. ‘Problems? I thought we’d be done by now. I did ask for this project to be given priority.’
Brian paused and put his sack down turning to look Hal square in the face. ‘The thing is, Henry, your father asked me to shelve this.’
Hal was astounded. He had discussed this very project with his father, who had said it sounded like a good idea. In fact, he had nodded through all his suggestions. The new pens were one of many changes Hal was implementing around the estate. When he returned from the Army, he’d spent a few weeks looking at his home with fresh adult eyes and then started visiting a few other working farms and estates. As he had feared, his own was falling behind. He had talked it through with Brian who made a few of his own suggestion and Hal appreciated the older man’s advice.
When he was eighteen his mother had finally died from the cancer that had been chasing her for years. Hal could find no solace at home and had thrown himself into his studies at university. His father had thrown himself into the bottle. When James Ferguson met his new wife, he had started to pay attention to the estate again. Certainly the farm seemed to be making more money but Hal couldn’t see how. Their machinery was tired, although well-tended, and he had no criticism of Brian’s work. But the fact of the matter was that their tenants’ properties seemed a tad scruffy, the yields on some of the fields seemed to have stalled and the livestock were just ticking over, their birth rate last year had been the lowest on record.
‘Did he say why? What about the new plantation?’
Brian shook his head. In truth, he thought Henry’s plans were good ones, but Henry wasn’t his boss, his father was, and if James Ferguson said no, then no it was.
‘Right.’ Hal prepared to head back to the house but then noticed the trailer was still full of sacks. ‘Where are the other men?’
‘Friday, isn’t it? Your father said there was no need for them on Fridays and that everyone could enjoy a long weekend.’
Hal looked perplexed, what was Brian on about. ‘Every Friday? Or just today. Have I missed something?’
‘No, it’s every Friday.’ Brian didn’t say any more.
‘But that’s crazy, there’s always work!’ Hal caught himself. Criticising his father in public, even to someone he had known all his life, seemed disloyal. It seemed like he had lots to talk to his father about, but first he threw his coat over the gate and rolled up his sleeves. Those bags weren’t going to shift themselves.
***
Odette heard a clatter from the backyard as Hal returned from his morning walk. The dogs were all jumping up around his legs as steam rose off their coats in the morning sunlight. It was a lovely sight and Odette was very proud to have such a handsome stepson. However, right now an angry frown spoilt his countenance and he strode into the kitchen in muddy boots, kissing her on the cheek and asking where his father was. She winced as she watched the muddy footprints head off towards the study and made a note to ask their cleaner to address those when she arrived. She returned to her needlework but looked up as she heard James shouting and a hand being slammed on the table. Her husband had such a temper but she’d never heard him shout at his son before. Deciding that she would ask Angela to clean the other end of the house today she went off in search of a vacuum.
***
‘Don’t bloody tell me how to run my business!’ James slammed his hand on the table. ‘I’ve been running this estate ever since I married your mother and we’ve gone from strength to strength.’
‘Yes but…’ Hal tried to get a word in edgeways but his father was just building up steam.
‘What about that physio pool I had built for you! Hey? Not complaining about that, are you?’ Hal thought that was a particularly low blow. He hadn’t asked to be injured, he hadn’t asked his father to build him a pool and yes, he was incredibly grateful for it. It had sped up his recovery enormously. But that was not what this was about, his father was dodging the issue.
Hal went and sat in one of his father’s leather armchairs: towering over his father’s desk wasn’t helpful. At Sandhurst they had been taught how to negotiate, how to intimidate and how to listen. It amused him to think that tactics he had learnt to placate enemy combatants should now be used against the old man.
Realising his son had stopped engaging and was just waiting for him to run out of steam James glared at him. ‘Well!?’
‘Okay, Father, maybe I was trying to do too much?’ Personally Hal thought he was doing less than half that needed doing. If only they could work together. He didn’t know why his father was fighting him on this. ‘But updating the estate is essential. We fall below modern ethical standards and with the new government regulations…’
‘Dammit, Henry. I said no. The Government is always bringing in some new fandangled idea. It’s bloody nonsense if you ask me.’
‘It’s not nonsense, it’s the future. We need efficient game crops, sound bio-diverse corridors––’
‘At the cost of bloody yield, where’s the sense in not ploughing a field right up to the edge? All this bloody plough to plate rubbish you keep spouting on about. If we want to make a profit we have to plant more, not less!’
Hal sighed, this was only the basics that the estate needed to address. The new government initiatives were also addressing the physical properties of estates. Including the tenanted residences and he knew for a fact that they were nowhere near compliance.
‘The days of EU grants are behind us and if we’re going to survive, we need to adapt.’
‘We’ll be fine, the government knows how beneficial estates and farms like ours are. And if they don’t, we’ll soon teach them a thing or two.’ James laughed knowingly, as if the Government would change their mind in light of his stance.
Hal stared at his father. Nothing he said seemed to be getting through to him. Every time James conceded a point, Hal thought he could get started on fixing a thing, only to discover that James had changed his mind again.
‘I was talking to Giles the other day…’
Oh God, groaned Hal, Father and the old boys’ network; anything new was met with mistrust and rebuttal. Why couldn’t he see a large section of their livelihood was at risk if he didn’t modernise?
‘Look, tell you what,’ he said cutting across his father, ‘why don’t we pop up to Humphrey’s?’
Humphrey Blackstott had a large sporting estate in Hampshire that mixed shooting in winter and fishing in summer, as well as having a good mixture of arable and livestock. It was a very successful venture and Hal knew that the two men were old acquaintances; Humphrey might be able to change James’s mind. ‘Now that the season’s finished why don’t we do a spot of fishing and see if we can’t pick up some tips.’
James perked up. A day’s fishing was always a pleasurable event and if it meant he could get his son off his back for a while then why not? Whilst they were there, James could inspect Humphrey’s business and show young Hal where they were pulling the wool over his eyes. He leant back and puffed on his cigar. ‘Now that is the first sensible thing you’ve said since you came in here. Set it up.’
Going to the window, Hal slid the panes down. ‘You know Odette will only complain if she smells that.’
James grumbled at the cold air and then pointed out that Henry had stormed in still wearing his muddy boots. Father and son looked at each other and shared a joint grimace. ‘Right, well I’ll go and organise things but first I’d better find the vacuum.’
As he got up to leave he remembered Brian working on his own. ‘By the way, Father, Brian said you’ve taken to giving the men long weekends? It’s a bit tough on him?’
‘Has he been complaining?’ growled James, and Hal rushed to head him off.
‘Brian? Complain? Sun will rise in the West before that happens. No, I just thought it was nice of you to give the men a shorter working week, just that maybe Brian would like it as well? Or some more staff?’
‘He’s still getting paid, isn’t he?’
‘Well yes.’ Hal paused at the door. ‘Hang on, do you mean the others aren’t being paid?’
He stared at his father in horror.
‘Good God boy, of course they aren’t being paid.’ James roared with laughter. ‘Imagine paying people not to work. Don’t think you are quite ready to take over the running of this estate if that’s how you plan to do things.’
Hal stood at the door. What was his father thinking? There was loads of work to be done. Whilst he had admired his father’s generosity in giving the staff long weekends, he had worried about his inability to see the workload. Now he feared his parsimony. The last thing this estate needed was fewer man hours and Hal wondered if the old boy wasn’t losing his senses.