Clare Houston - An Unquiet Place

They watched Douglas and Kathryn drive away. By the time the field had been cleared, the light was fading. Hannah walked up to the house with Gen, the zinc tubs stacked together between them and each woman gripping a handle.

Gen was furious. ‘What was Mum thinking, inviting Karl and Esme! Alistair will never come out of mourning if he constantly has to be under Esme’s judgement. Mum and Dad are too forgiving.’

‘I didn’t think there was such a thing for Christians,’ said Hannah quietly.

‘What?’ Gen looked at her sharply.

‘Being too forgiving, I mean. Aren’t Christians supposed to forgive seventy times seven or something like that?’

‘You’re talking to the wrong daughter.’

Hannah glanced curiously at her.

‘Let’s just say I’ve strayed from the fold. When I told Mum that Glen and I had moved in together, I thought she was going to fall down dead from the shock.’

‘What did she say?’ Hannah couldn’t imagine Sarah shaken.

‘She managed to recover, and now she tries very hard with Glen, but I know that my two worlds don’t really mix. I’ve chosen his world, and will just have to make sorties across the border every now and then,’ she said, her mouth curving in a small smile.

‘It might be different when you have kids. I can’t imagine your parents being content with occasional sorties where their grandchildren are concerned.’

Gen was quiet for a few moments. ‘We’ve decided not to have children.’ Her resolute face made Hannah wonder how much of that decision was really Gen. ‘Please don’t say anything though, Hannah. Mum doesn’t know yet.’

Hannah nodded, and they were quiet as they walked the last few yards to the main house.

Sarah was presiding over Alistair’s kitchen, turning leftovers into another meal.

‘Mum, we aren’t going to eat again, are we?’ said Gen.

‘You’ll see, as soon as I put this out, people will be hungry again.’

She set Hannah to work laying the large kitchen table. By the time Alistair and Neil had come in from the sheds, the table was groaning yet again.

‘Don’t wait for Glen,’ said Gen, ‘he’s busy with something.’ Hannah caught a glance between Neil and Sarah, Sarah shaking her head at him to stop him saying something.

Alistair chose the seat next to Hannah and handed her a plate. She couldn’t believe she was helping herself to more food after the lunch they’d had, but chose cold slices of steak and salad, adding a piece of crusty bread. Alistair’s thigh brushed hers under the table, and his hand came to rest on her leg just under the hem of her skirt, his calloused palm bringing a hum of response along her skin. He ate with a fork in his right hand, not looking at her and contributing to conversation as if nothing else were going on, but the warmth of his fingers on her thigh, just lightly brushing her skin, distracted her completely.

The farmhouse phone rang and Gen left the table to answer it. She had her back to the room and shortly replaced the receiver, returning to her seat to continue eating.

‘Who was it, Gen?’ asked her mother.

‘Nobody. They just hung up.’

Alistair stiffened beside Hannah, withdrawing his hand and putting his fork down on his plate. The phone rang again. Hannah watched, confused, as Neil pushed his chair back and picked up the handset, depressed the switch hook with his forefinger, and put the receiver on the counter, leaving it off the hook. He turned back to his chair. ‘Let’s not allow phone calls to disturb our supper,’ he said. ‘Sweetheart, remember our old rule that nobody answers the phone during meals?’

‘I remember the rule that nobody should phone after eight o’clock,’ said Gen putting her fork down. ‘Al, do you remember Pietie Rossouw who was so desperately in love with Suzanne? He tried to phone her once after eight and got Dad on the line.’

‘Poor guy was too frightened to talk to her ever again, even at school,’ said Alistair.

‘What did you say to him, Dad?’ said Suzanne mildly.

‘I just told him that if he wanted to consort with my daughter in the middle of the night, he’d have to get through me and my shotgun.’

‘Consort! He was only twelve, Dad,’ said Gen, laughing.

‘It worked, didn’t it? He’s in his thirties now, married with three kids, and he still speaks to me with his cap in his hand and calls me “Mr Barlow, Sir”. I like that,’ said Neil, grinning at his daughters.

Sarah stood to collect plates and Joseph jumped up to help, leaning across to Neil. ‘May I take your plate, Mr Barlow, Sir?’ causing everyone around the table to collapse laughing.

Neil slapped Joseph on the back. ‘You’re a fast learner, boy. Which daughter would you like to have?’

‘Hey!’ said Gen. ‘I’m not on the market!’

‘More’s the pity,’ whispered Neil to Joseph and got his foot stamped on by Sarah.

Coffee and left-over pecan pie followed, and it was late when Alistair pulled Hannah away from drying dishes, into the garden. He led her out of the light pouring from the windows, into the shadow of an oak which grew on the corner of the house. He slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto her tiptoes. Angling his face down to hers, they touched foreheads. ‘I like seeing you in my kitchen with my family. I find myself wanting you there more and more.’

‘In your kitchen? Maybe barefoot? Pregnant?’ she said, a tease in her voice.

‘It came out wrong,’ he said, laughing against her cheek, and then his voice softened as his breath tickled her ear, making her shiver. ‘But maybe that’s exactly what I want.’

Her stomach clenched into a knot. ‘Alistair, I can’t think beyond a few weeks or months. Living in Leliehoek is a dream for me – and I know that I’m going to have to wake up at some point. What will you do when this ends?’

He put her at an arm’s length. ‘What do you mean? I thought after today… I thought you wanted to be with me?’

Hannah sighed. ‘I did… I do. But I’m not thinking about getting married! We kissed, Alistair. That’s all. Besides, I can’t be a farmer’s wife. I couldn’t do what your mother does. I don’t know the first thing about farms. I can barely put a salad together, let alone put on a feast for the whole district. Suzanne said today that a farmer needs a partner for a wife – how could I ever be that to you? Like Marilie was.’

He dropped his hands from her. ‘Marilie was never a partner, not how you think, anyway. She and I lived alongside each other, like railway tracks. Perfectly parallel. Her horses and her showjumping were her total focus. To be honest, the dream of a guest house and tours? It was my dream, and she got excited about the horse trail part of it.’ He leant against the trunk of the oak, the silence stretching for a long moment. Then he said, ‘When you… when you say you couldn’t be a farmer’s wife? Do you mean you don’t think you’re capable?’ He paused, before saying in a rush, ‘Or that you actually don’t want to be one?’

‘Why does it matter? Alistair, we’ve only kissed once! Why are we talking about getting married?’

‘You really are asking that? You have that little insight?’

‘Maybe I’m not as clever as you. It doesn’t give you the right to insult me!’

‘Hannah! What are you talking about? Not as clever as me? You’re one of the most intelligent, bat-shit crazy people I’ve ever met. How can you not know how big your brain is? How talented you are? You could run rings around me in any field. If I could just have a few minutes with the people who beat the belief out of you…’

He moved away from her out of the shadow of the oak. In the light spilling from inside, she could see his hands clasped around his head, which was thrown back to look upwards at the night sky. ‘You drive me nuts. You know that?’ He was quiet for a moment before he turned to face her, ‘I’m not saying I want to marry you, okay? If our relationship doesn’t work out, I’ll deal with it. But I’m not interested in a fling with you. Do you understand that? Otherwise we’re wasting our time. And my heart is on the line here, Hannah. It’s in a pretty sorry smashed-up state as it is. I don’t think I could handle getting more involved with you than I already am, knowing it won’t go anywhere.’