The Banker's Niece 27: The little house in the woods

Summer 1978

Jane hopped off the bus and wandered up the dirt track which led to Wendy’s cottage where she and Rick had been staying since the end of June. 

    As she left behind the Five Bells, the pub at the intersection of the track and the main road where she and Rick had spent many a happy evening, the throat-catching stench of deep-fat frying changed to the fragrance of the multitude of wildflowers that spilled out of the hedgerow like the froth on Rick’s lager. The buzz of bees replaced the roar of the traffic.
    The cottage may have been cramped, with her and Rick sleeping in a box-room the size of their mattress, and the atmosphere may have been strained given that Rick and Wendy had shared a one-night stand shortly after the sudden departure of Rick’s long-time girlfriend nearly a year ago now, but in Jane’s opinion its location on the edge of the city could not be faulted. It was a little piece of forgotten countryside. A little piece of paradise.

    Soon Wendy’s tiny thatched cottage appeared round a corner, peeping out of the trees like something from a fairy tale, and in spite of her aching legs Jane sped up.

The other advantage of Wendy’s cottage thought Jane as she settled on a blanket under an ancient apple tree, was its vast back garden now so overgrown that it was like a hayfield. She felt like a child again, hiding in the undergrowth.

    Thank goodness Wendy was out somewhere and she had the place to herself. She had tried to make friends with her, really she had, but so far without success.

    Take last week, for instance. Because Wendy was a student at the Art College and her clothes always looked right – unlike Jane’s which always looked wrong – Jane thought she might be interested to see the Laura Ashley wedding dress, so she’d put it on and gone downstairs to the kitchen to ask Wendy’s opinion. Wendy was boiling a tinned meat-pie for one in a saucepan, and she didn’t even look up.

    Luckily she’d recently acquired a boyfriend, Ivan, or Van as he liked to be known, so maybe the atmosphere would improve. They certainly seemed to be getting on well. Jane and Rick sometimes heard them at night through the walls of the cottage.

    She gulped from the pint glass of water and bit a chunk out of the cheese sandwich she’d brought out with her. A cloud of flies arrived to join her and she swatted them away. She stuck her legs out so that they could catch some sun.

    In some ways, this had been one of the best summers she’d ever had. After her finals, there was the wonderful thought that she didn’t ever need to attend an educational establishment again or sit through any more exams. Because she worked shifts at her waitressing job, she had time to be outside in the day. Sometimes she and Rick could even take days off from work and go to the sea together. And then of course, there was their wedding to look forward to, only two weeks away.

    Occasionally, now she had time to think, she remembered London and everything that had happened there but it all seemed a long way away, both in time and space, and she quickly forgot again. It didn’t do to dwell on it because it came between her and Rick. It made her freeze up and sometimes that could last for several days. Thankfully Rick was pretty patient.

    Another boon was Rick’s lovely parents, especially Peggy. Whenever Jane was at their house, she felt happy. She could be herself, whatever that was. Something inside her glowed, as it had when they went to see the vicar.

    As for her parents, it was over four months since she and Rick had visited them and they’d written such horrible letters, and they’d not said anything else whatsoever on the subject of her and Rick marrying, so maybe they were having a change of heart. In any case, now that she’d given them the good news about her finals (as well as the news about the wedding, of course), they had to be pleased. (They hadn't replied to that letter yet.)

    She hadn’t told them of her move however. That was another good thing about the summer.

    She polished off the sandwich and started attacking some plums. With her other hand she sorted through the post she’d found on the doormat when she arrived back.

    Two envelopes leapt out, a square blue one and a long brown one, both forwarded from her old house.

    For a second she couldn’t breathe. A bit of plum stuck in her throat. 

    Then she told herself not to be so silly. They were probably congratulating her on her results.

    But her hands were shaking as she ripped open the envelopes.

    First the blue one.

My dear Jane

Thank you for your letter. It was very depressing to hear that you are going to marry Rick in August but so be it. I think you are putting us all in rather an invidious position. Why this unseemly haste? Either you should have got married quietly without telling anyone beforehand or you should give everyone due warning. Don’t forget that we are all very fond of you and it is a big day. Have you considered all the rest of the family? I think this hole and corner business is most unsavoury. Unless you are pregnant, why do you have to rush it so?

    Apart from anything else it is a little unfair to Daddy who has already made all his travelling arrangements for the business trip which you should have known about.

    You are our oldest and first born and of course we want to be at your wedding, whoever you marry. We may not like Rick, but you have rather taken it for granted that we wouldn't - you said so before we even met him - and we’ve never had a chance to get to know him better and change our minds.

    Anyway this is my immediate reaction and I won’t write any more at the moment. If you feel like it, ring up and reverse the charges.
    Love

    Mummy
PS Ollie was thinking of coming to stay with you. I hope you're not going to let him down as well.

Then the brown one.

My dear Jane

As you have never said anything before I did not realise that you and Rick were thinking of marriage in August. If you had only asked for a talk we could easily have found time.  As it was I thought there was nothing precipitate, and am upset that Mummy should have been faced with this by herself and without warning last weekend when I was away.

    There is of course nothing we can do if you decide to go against our wishes except to convey our real sorrow at such estrangement. But if you are looking for our approval then I feel bound to say that, at this stage, I am unable to give you away. We hardly know Rick although we are aware that you come from different backgrounds. I do find him very difficult to talk to and while that is partly my fault he does not seem to be forthcoming in general conversation. Of course he is nervous but we cannot make a real judgement if he will not talk. About his home and family, interests, sport, holidays he’s had, school, training – in fact anything. He doesn’t necessarily have to talk to me but some initiative is essential if we are to get to know him.
    I don’t want to repeat all I’ve said in my previous letter but I do think that you yourself will not know your own mind if you stay at Exeter where obviously you will see Rick all the time and think of little else. If you get a job well away from Exeter, you and he would be welcome to see each other at weekends and hopefully here at home as often as you like. If you do this, and if your mind remains unchanged and we know more about Rick, we shall feel properly placed to be fair and reasonable. You must know our only concern is your long-term happiness. I also trust that Rick will appreciate all this, that he will be fair to you and not wish for hasty and irreversible action.

    With much love

    Daddy

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