inmyfathershouse

IN MY FATHER'S HOUSE

Directly continued from the end of Time Like Water

By Atonia Walpole

(Picture creations also by Atonia)

I am not bound to please thee with my answers- (W. Shakespeare)

Chapter 1

The short message on his voice mail did not satisfy. No, it did not satisfy. “Mission accomplished,” he repeated scornfully. “But where is she?” he asked the empty room. Sir Brennan was not satisfied.

David Blaine was satisfied when he gave her a brief kiss before handing her over to the dock in Peloponnese. Lady Lara Holdridge was on her own with her daughter Janine. He held in his hand a small fragment of sea glass. He lifted it toward the sun and smiled. It was Janine’s parting gift to him and he treasured it. The gift Lara had given him was less visible. She turned and waved to him and he waved back as the yacht Medea pulled away. He didn’t go ashore. Instead he went back to his deck chair and picked up his sketch pad.

Turning the pages of the pad, he relived his last days on the island of Mathraki. He closed it, looking out past the busy harbor to the blue sea beyond. Out there lay the cold hard reality that he and Lara had spoken of. She was to meet hers soon. His would be delayed until he returned to London. He sighed and lay the pad down by his chair. He’d not had many what you might call friends in his life. Lara was one, a newly made friend. He hoped he might maintain that with Renee. He loved Renee, but not enough to confine himself to a single relationship.

Margret Langston had been right about him. He was a man who should never marry, and a commitment to Renee would be the same thing. Male or female, it mattered not to him. He was attracted to both, but with his newfound insight he would remain aloof and free.

He arrived home at Gravesend in Coventry tanned and relaxed. As instructed, his house was opened and his former staff back in place. They were happy to hear it was a permanent state. Happier still was Lyssa. Her Daddy was home. When he had a moment he walked through the house touching things and knowing this is where he belonged. This was home. He decided to clear out Mandi’s old room and make it into a playroom for Lyssa and for Willy, as he would grow into it. The room was next to his, and down the hallway Billy’s room remained as it was. He stood in the doorway and waited for the pain of forced separation to hurt, but it didn’t come and he was glad. He still cared for Billy and they would share Willy, but the days when he needed him constantly at his side were over. He was stronger now in body and in spirit. He could stand on his own.

He’d been home a week when he decided to go to London, and then there was his visit with Sir Brennan to get out of the way. A phone call produced a car at the door of the hotel to take him out to the country estate.

“I hope you’ve had a nice little holiday,” Sir Brennan greeted him and led him into his office.

“It was very nice,” Blaine answered him.

“Your little message was incorrect. Your mission was not accomplished because you didn’t bring her home.”

“I agreed to find her and that I did. She’s been in touch with you and surely you know exactly how things are with her.”

“I do indeed, and I find it troublesome. I’m not entirely convinced you didn’t have something to do with that. Lord Holdridge has been all over my arse about you. I told him you were gay and he had nothing to worry about in that direction. Lady Holdridge laughed when I told her the same thing. So…you see.”

Blaine shrugged and contemplated the painting above the fireplace. “I located her and she, on her own, contacted you. She does not need people to tell her what to do next. She is an intelligent woman and can make her own decisions. I did not assist her in leaving her husband, Sir Brennan. She was already there.”

Sir Brennan ran a hand over his face. “Still, it’s a sad situation.”

“Divorce is always sad. There are no winners.”

“What about you?”

Blaine looked at him a moment. “That does not concern you.”

“I suppose it doesn’t really. I have an interest in you, Blaine, so you will forgive me if I on occasion act like I care.”

Blaine smiled a little. “Where is my Uncle Trevor? Is he back?”

“He is, and I believe he’s in London at the moment.”

“Good. I shall visit him while I am in town.”

“Will you visit Renee also?”

Blaine looked down at his manicured nails. “Yes.”

“I thought as much…well, he may take it hard or not.” He sighed, “Do what you must. Regardless of the outcome I hope you will stay in touch with me.”

“You know where to find me, at Gravesend.”

Sir Brennan smiled, “Yes, I know.”

Blaine stood up. “Thank you for having confidence in me. I may not always deliver what you wish…”

“Heh, heh, but you deliver on your own terms. Take care, Blaine.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He was putting it off, delaying the inevitable, and he was aware of what he was doing. He rang the bell.

“Uncle Trevor.” He smiled and received a hug.

“David, good to see you, lad. Come in.” Trevor held the door for him. “Look at you walking. Wow!”

“Yes, I’m down to one stick now.”

“How’s the hand?” He took David’s hand and looked at it. “You can give up your dreams of boxing.”

“Not sure I had dreams of boxing, but I can use it.”

“Want a drink? I got beer and whiskey.”

“Um, tea if you have it.”

“Tea? All right. What brings you to London…oh, I heard you were in the Mediterranean.”

“The Ionian Sea. It’s beautiful there. I might have stayed.”

“How’s the family?”

“Ah, Lyssa and Willy are fine. You’ll have to come down and see them.”

“I’d like to do that. What happened with you and Mandi?”

“Mandi is in Switzerland, the last I heard. She’s gone back to work for Cramer. The divorce is final.”

“She gave up the kid?”

“Yes.”

“And Billy?”

“Billy has, um, an apartment here in London. Before you ask about Renee, that is my next stop.”

“You breaking up with him?”

“Well, I am not moving in with him. I’ve found I need to be alone.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I forget, do you take it white?”

“Yes... how did it go for you?”

“The trip…it went as expected. I’m on leave for awhile, Blaine. I’m burnt out.” He took a seat across from Blaine and set the mugs of tea on the coffee table.

“You are not sick, are you?”

“No, nothing physical. I thought I might go up to the farm for awhile. The fella I leased it to has some kind of nervous disorder and can’t work any longer. I figured a little physical labor might be just what I needed.

“You no longer have a tenant?”

“Nope, he tried to hire on some help before he left so I don’t know what’s going on until I get there.”

“If ever there is something I can do for you, Uncle Trevor, please tell me.”

Trevor chuckled, “David, I can’t see you in wellies tromping about in muck, but thanks for the thought.”

David pretended offence. “I own wellies. I do, and I use them when I’m tramping about in gardens.”

“Gardens and cow shit are two different things. You working on anything now?”

“Waiting on funding.”

“So, you’re on your own now…no one to pack your kit and lay out your trousers. Are you managing okay?”

“I am looking after myself. There was a long time there where I could not.”

“I realize that. I was just pushing your buttons. You look good, nice and tanned. How come I don’t get assignments like that?”

“I think you would have liked this one.” Blaine smiled and sipped his tea. “I came home on the Medea, and you are welcome to take it out when you like.”

“I’ve never been much of a sailor. You learned to sail in Hong Kong, didn’t you?”

“I learned to sail at Cambridge but, yes, it was Hong Kong where I first owned a sailboat.”

“I’m glad we found each other, David. I should say I’m glad you found me.”

“I have become a finder of lost people. I think…I think I have found myself in the process.”

“Not many of us do find ourselves. I’m happy for you.”

Blaine set his cup down. “I have put this off as long as I can. I’m not looking forward to seeing Renee, Uncle Trevor. You know I cut Billy off for him and now…I don’t know but that I’m doing the same thing again. I would like to remain friends with him, but I don’t know how he will take this. How do I get myself into these things?”

“You are a victim of love, David, and I don’t envy you at all.”

“How have you escaped all these years?”

“I don’t know that I have, but I try to keep my distance, if you know what I mean. Enjoy what you can and walk away before it gets serious. It doesn’t get messy that way.”

“For me that is good advice. I fall too easily.” Blaine stood up and shook his uncle’s hand. “I will call you before I leave for home.”

“Good luck, David, and I’m here if you need a shoulder…or whatever.” He shrugged.

David called Renee from a cab and asked if he might stop by. He already realized he had not handled it well. He should have called him before he left Greece, when he asked Toomes to take the children to the country. Renee was already suspicious of his motives.

“Hello, Blaine.” He held the door open for him and took a breath.

“Renee, I want to thank you for helping with my children. I hope they did not destroy your lovely home.”

“No, I loved having them. Breaks up the days…you know.”

Blaine followed him into the kitchen where he had a bottle of wine open. “It’s Greek. I thought in honor of your trip you might enjoy it.”

Blaine hesitated and then took a glass. “Thank you.” He briefly met Renee’s eyes and looked away. This was difficult for him.

"So, does this mean you’re going to stay in Coventry?”

He took a drink from his glass. “Yes, Renee, it’s better for me. I know what you want and what you need and I cannot be that person. I love you, but I cannot live as your partner. I can’t give you the commitment you want.”

Renee looked into his glass. “My prediction about the Greek gods must have come true.”

“No, there is no Greek god there is only me and what I know of myself. I would hope that we can remain close. I want that, Renee.”

Renee moved to the French doors leading out to the sun room. “I’ll tell you a secret…I never thought I could hold you. You’re elusive, Blaine. Other than Ali no one has held you.”

“That is true…maybe, but Lyssa’s mother had me for awhile.”

“You truly loved her, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“I won’t lie to you or try to make you feel better about this…”

“I don’t want you to. I’m sorry, Renee.”

“I thought we had something special.”

“We did…we do, but I cannot live here with you. I am not nor could I ever be William, and I know that is what you seek. I would disappoint you and you deserve better. This is his house and you have changed nothing. Do you understand, Renee, I cannot step into his shoes…they would not fit me.”

“Will I see you again?”

“If you want to, yes. I will be at Gravesend…alone if you wish to know that.”

“I grew quite fond of your children. Oh, Blaine.”

“Please…don’t, Renee.”

Renee regained his composure. “No, no, I’m…I’ll be all right. I think I knew when Toomes left and before that really, you waited too long. Deep inside I knew it wasn’t going to happen. Give me some time, if you will, and I’d like to see you.”

“I will. I should go now. Oh, hell!” He grabbed Renee and hugged him and kissed him. “Good-bye.” He turned and left Renee’s house. He walked up the street and across into the park. It was the park of good-byes, he thought. He looked around, “I never want to be here again.” He crossed the street and walked for awhile before finding a cab and heading back to his hotel.

Chapter 2

Be all my sins remembered (Hamlet)

Blaine kept himself busy once he returned home. He’d been gone for a little over four months and there was much to do. A storm had taken off some roof tiles and that had to be attended to, along with the garden that had suffered in his absence. He had a new gardener named Watkins, and he walked about the property with him, explaining what he wanted done. The hedgerows needed trimming and Watkins preferred to do it the old fashioned way, the way it should be done, by hand. Blaine liked that about the man. He didn’t like garden tools with electric cords attached.

For himself, he put in new plants with Lyssa’s help. Colorful flowers added to the borders. He’d brought back the little kitten that Janine had named Muffin. He’d informed Lyssa that it was on loan until it’s owner could come and claim it. Her pup, Freckles, was not so enamored with the feline. Freckles had grown into an awkward teenager and displayed some jealousy toward the kitten.

“He’s being mean to Muffin, Daddy.”

“He is only letting the kitten know who is the boss of this garden and it is not Muffin. This is Freckles’ place. I shouldn’t worry about Muffin, Lyssa; he can take care of himself.”

“But, Daddy, I’m babysitting Muffin!”

Blaine laughed.

The next day he got a call from Billy. He’d like to come for Willy.

Billy pulled up in front of the familiar house he’d called home. The initial pain of separation from Blaine was past now. He still loved him, but he’d forged himself a life in London after returning from his holiday in America. Life goes on.

Blaine had been out with the garden hose watering the newly planted flowers. Lyssa and the pets were following Watkins around while he clipped rose bushes. She carried a basket for the clippings.

Blaine finished washing his hands in the kitchen sink and turned around to see Billy standing in the doorway.

“Billy,” he smiled broadly.

“There wasn’t anybody to answer the door so I just walked in.

“You don’t have to knock.” Blaine tossed the towel in the sink and came over and hugged him.

“It’s good to see you.”

“You’re walking,” Billy hugged back.

“Yes, I am, tentatively, carefully.”

“I knew you’d do it. You’ve been in the sun.”

“I’ve been to Corfu.” Blaine raised his brows and grinned. “It was work, at least they tried to pay me for it. I donated the money. It was as much a holiday for me as anything. Would you like a drink?”

“Got any beer in the fridge?”

“Should be.” Blaine opened the door, found two bottles and handed one to Billy. “How was your holiday?”

They took a seat at the kitchen table. “It was good. I spent some time in New York and then flew down to Miami.”

“I can see Miami on you. You are all right, Billy?”

“I’m okay.”

“Did they finish the flat for you?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s all posh now. I’m trying to be a little neater.”

“You were always neat.”

“Where’s Willy?”

“Ah, he’s out in the garden with Toomes. He is growing and changing so fast.”

“He’s probably forgotten me.”

“He is a good little lad, Billy.”

“I was, uh, surprised to find you’d come back here. I thought you’d be all tucked up with Renee by now.”

“That is not on. Something I discovered about myself in Corfu. I’m better alone. I still care for him as I care for you. I won’t be confined to live a certain way.”

“That’s probably a good thing for you. I’ve, um, been thinking about Willy. I know he’s your son, but I want to be a part of his life, Blaine.”

“He is your son, Billy.”

“Well, yeah, he is.” Billy met Blaine’s eyes.

“What do you want?”

“I want him. I don’t know how you feel about it. By everything legal he’s yours, but I find I need him. He’s a part of me, maybe all I’ll ever have. You know, I never thought to reproduce and probably wouldn’t have.”

Blaine ran a hand through his hair and stared at the table. He hadn’t expected that from Billy. “Well,” he looked toward the back door, “I have grown attached to him and so has Lyssa. He is her little brother.”

The guilt for what he’d done with Billy and Mandi raised its head again. “I know it is because of me that you and Mandi…it wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”

“No, I don’t think it would have. Not that we didn’t have a go once in awhile. If it hadn’t been for you I would never have had her in the first place. She was like that, you know.”

Blaine looked up. “Yes, I know.”

“I…I don’t regret it, Blaine, none of it. I wouldn’t have changed anything.”

Blaine held up a finger. “Ah, now, take her out of the equation and it would have been perfect for you.”

Billy grinned, “That’s true enough.”

“As for Willy, take him and see how you go. I have Toomes to help with him. Will you care for him alone?”

“I’ve got myself a part-time job. It may turn out to be fulltime if it works. There’s also a woman in my building, grandmother type, that I’ve talked to about helping me out with him. I’d just need her when I’m working.”

“What kind of work?”

“With emergency services. Thanks to you I’m a trained medic.”

Blaine smiled.

Billy took a drink from his bottle. “You look happy, relaxed.”

“I am. I’m settled.”

“I’m getting there myself. Getting the flat redone and knowing it’s mine now helped. I sent Mandi a check for her half.”

“Do you keep in touch with her?”

“I sent her a postcard from Miami via Cramer. I’ve talked to him…well, I had to get her mailing address. He says she’s doing fine. You haven’t heard from her, I guess?”

“No, her solicitor handled the divorce. I never saw her again after she left here.”

“Probably best.”

“Yes, I think it is. Are you prepared to spend the night?”

“Ah, no, actually I’ve got to work tomorrow morning. Get off at noontime.”

“Sometime when you are not working…or have the time.”

“Yeah…”

“I miss you, Billy. You kept me going, kept me on my feet for a long time. It is because of you that I am walking now. I owe you a lot.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Just seeing you walking on your own is enough.”

Blaine picked up his bottle. “How’s your love life?”

Billy smiled slowly. “You think I’d tell you?”

Blaine laughed, “Good for you! Do not tell me then.”

“How’s yours?”

“Eh, there is no one that I want to get that close to right now. Renee is upset with me. There was a woman in Corfu but we are friends now.”

Billy finished his beer. “I guess I’d better have Willy and get on the road back to London.”

“Toomes has packed his bag.” Blaine stood up. “Come out into the garden. Lyssa will want to see you.”

Billy spent some time walking around with Lyssa after a big hug and a kiss. He took Willy from Toomes. Blaine felt his eyes smart and turned away from them. A little later he and Lyssa walked them to the car. Billy had an infant seat in the back all ready for Willy.

“I wanna go too, Daddy!” Lyssa wailed.

“You’d better stay here and look after your Daddy,” Billy told her.

“Come any time, Blaine.”

“Thank you, I will. We will, won’t we, Lyssa?”

She hung on her Daddy’s leg. Blaine watched the car down the drive and went back inside. Lyssa was off with Freckles and Muffin. He went into his den and closed the door. There alone he caught a sob in his throat and released it.

Mistakes, yes, he’d made them and there was a price to pay. He pulled himself together and went over to his CD player, chose something to fit his mood and sat back in his leather chair letting the music flow over him and take him somewhere else.

The music blotted out the sounds of the household. Fish arriving to make lunch and see what to cook for dinner. Toomes having a chat with her in the kitchen about Willy leaving with Billy. The new housekeeper, Mrs. Martin, back from her visit to the doctors that morning joined the chat in the kitchen for a few moments before answering the door. A package arrived for Mr. David Blaine. She looked at it, at the postmarks and debated whether to disturb Blaine. She could hear the music through the door of his den. In the end she lay it on the hall table and found her smock on the back of the hall closet door. Time to give the dining room a polish.

Chapter 3

Pray you now, forget and forgive-(King Lear- act 4 scene 7)

Just before Fish was about to announce lunch was ready, Mrs. Martin again answered the doorbell.

“Hello?”

“Ah, hello, I was hoping to see Mr. Blaine if he’s here.”

“Come in, Ma’am. Who may I say is calling?”

“Margret Langston. He knows me.”

“He’s closed himself up in his study. I’ll just…see.”

Margret walked into the front reception room. It’d been awhile since she’d been at Gravesend but it never ceased to surprise and please her. Blaine had done an excellent job of refurbishing the house. He’d done it as it should be done, keeping the old and discreetly inserting the new. She heard the blast of music and turned toward the doorway, raising her brows.

The music stopped and a moment later Blaine walked into the room. “Margret, how good to see you!”

They hugged tightly for a moment.

“I hear you’ve been on holiday.”

“Not exactly. Where did you hear that?”

“From your own people. I called you three weeks ago.”

“I never got the message. I am sorry.”

“I finally called Renee and he said you’d gone to Gravesend.”

“I have been back for about two weeks now. Please sit down.”

“Will you be wanting tea, Sir?”

“Yes, please,” Blaine answered Mrs. Martin.

“How are you, dear?”

“I am afraid you have caught me indulging myself in a bit of self-flagellation and self-pity. Billy was just here and took Willy away.”

“What do you mean took him away?”

“For a visit but he’s asked for the boy. I don’t know what to do about it. He has every right, but he’s become a part of our family, Lyssa’s brother.”

“You don’t want to give him up…I see.”

“I do not want to give him up.”

“I thought you were going to share custody.”

“We had agreed to do that. He says he needs him.”

“Oh, well then. When did he decide this?”

“I did not ask. I feel so guilty over Billy and Mandi. I am inclined to do anything to make amends.”

“Don’t do anything rash. You don’t have to decide today, do you?”

“I suppose not.” He sighed, “You were trying to get in touch with me?”

“Yes, we’ve got funding for the York project at last.”

“That is good news.”

“Your drawings have been approved and now it’s down to the logistics, getting on site and starting the ball to roll.”

“How soon will you be on site?”

Mrs. Martin brought the tea tray in and set it down. “Oh, Sir, excuse me but there was a package came for you. Shall I get it?”

“Package?”

“Yes, Sir, foreign it was.”

He waved his hand. “Yes.”

“Shall I be mother?”

“Please.”

“I’m going up to York in a few days. Where’s Lyssa?”

“Ah, she’s here somewhere about. Thank you, Mrs. Martin.” He took the package and held it in his lap while accepting a cup from Margret. He took a drink from his cup and looked down at the book-sized box.

Noting his silence, Margret looked up. “What is it?”

“It’s from China. I am not sure I want to open it. Sent special delivery.”

“Well, you’d better open it then.” Margret looked over her teacup. “Somebody wanted you to have it.”

He put it aside. “Later, perhaps.”

“Blaine, open the damn box!”

His eyes widened. “It’s from my cousin.” He put his cup down and opened up the package. An envelope fell out and he opened it and read the note. He sat quite still for a moment and let the letter fall to the floor.

“Well?”

“My mother is dead.”

Margret watched him closely and moved from her chair to the settee where he was sitting. She put her arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry for you, Blaine.”

He looked down at the box and began to open it. “Oh, dear God.” It held photos of him. As he went through them there were photos of him and his father taken at Gravesend. Pictures of the garden as it had been when he was a child. “She kept them all these years. I never saw these pictures. Me without a father why didn’t she…?”

At the bottom of the box was a letter written in Chinese characters.

“Can you read it, Blaine?”

He held it in his hand not wanting to read it. “It may take some time to translate. It has been a long time since…it is written by my mother.”

“Do I need to leave you alone for awhile?”

“Would you mind?”

“No, not at all. I’ll have a look at your gardens.”

Margret found Lyssa in the kitchen having her lunch. “Hello, little love.” She hugged her. “Finish your plate and we’ll have a walk around.”

“I have a kitty. Well, it’s not mine. I’m babysitting for another little girl.”

“Ah, well, I’m sure you are a good mummy.”

“Won’t you have some lunch, Miss Langston?”

“Thank you, no, Fish. I’ve already eaten. I’ll be out in the garden.”

“You’d better take a brolly. Starting to rain a bit.”

“Yes, thank you,” Margret took an umbrella from the stand at the back door.

It was mid-summer and Blaine’s garden was a paint box of colors. She studied his borders and could see what he had done. Like a painter he’d placed his flowers one flowing into another. Nothing stood alone; it was all part of a whole. The whole picture he’d painted with flowers. As a gardener does, she walked about the bricked paths deadheading and tugging at a weed here and there. The beds were in good order. The fountain made a delicate sound that invited you to stay. By a trellis covered in clematis she could see a man in the distance wheeling his barrow toward the garden shed. The rain had become serious and she opened her umbrella. Still she didn’t want to leave the garden. “How you must love this,” she said aloud.

She walked down to the left side of the garden where the roses began, wild things tumbling over an iron fence, their petals covering the brick walk. She paused and inhaled their damp fragrance. A movement caught her eye. It was Blaine in an old raincoat without an umbrella. She walked toward him.

“Are you all right?”

He nodded in the affirmative. He wasn’t really. Inside was a tumult of emotions being washed this way and that like eel grass under water only held down by their roots. Held as he was by the roots he’d regenerated here at Gravesend.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Silence except for the rain plopping on her umbrella. “Well then, when you’re ready.” She took his arm. “Let’s go in out of the rain. You’re getting soaked.”

She sat at the table with him while he barely ate anything. Toomes, sensing something was amiss, enticed Lyssa upstairs. It was a good day to paint, perhaps a picture of Freckles and Muffin.

“The rain’s let up a bit. I should probably start for home.”

Blaine looked up at her. “Don’t go.”

“Maybe I should find my spectacles and a good book.” She rested her chin in her hand.

“I am sorry.” He pushed his plate away. “If you need to go…”

“Talk to me, Blaine.”

He rested his head in his hands for a moment. “She tried to explain. The box of photos…she wanted to give them to me a couple of years ago when I was there with her. But Ali came.” He looked up and sat back in his chair. “Contrary to what I’ve been told, she did love my father. She was young and frightened when she came here, taken from her family and all things familiar. When he died she felt she had no need to remain here in England. My grandparents wanted to keep me here but for once she stood up for herself, became strong because I belonged to her.

“When she arrived back in China with me she was shunned by her own parents because she’d married an Englishman and had an English child. She lived with relatives and put me in school. It was easier for her without me around. Her father never spoke to her after she left China with my father. She said I became my father as I grew older. She was afraid I would bring shame upon her and that’s when she sent me to England…to university. She said…said I had the gentle soul of her grandfather. She found that in me and that was something she could love.” His voice broke and he covered his face.

Margret reached out and lay her hand on his shoulder. “Forgive her, Blaine, and let it rest.”

With some fine color that may please the eye… (King Henry IV)

Chapter 5

Margret stayed with Blaine for another hour or so. When she left him he was upstairs in the nursery with Lyssa sitting cross legged on the floor painting lotus blossoms with her nursery paints. She pointed her Rover in the direction of home and her heart ached for him. She loved him and his daughter as if they were her own. Not that she wished death on anyone, but she did not regret the loss of his mother. Maybe now that wound would heal.

She’d looked at the pictures of his father and he was much like him. His father was slighter in build but had the same unruly curls falling over his forehead. She wondered about his uncle Trevor and why he didn’t take more of a role in Blaine’s life. Was he a homophobe like his father had been? What a tangled family Blaine had sprung from. And now there was Billy wanting his son. Would he really give up Willy? Margret couldn’t imagine Billy really wanted him. What would he do with a baby?

She pulled into her drive. The front walk was a mess again. Rain had washed over the pea gravel and brought black dirt with it. It needed work, the whole place did but she hadn’t the energy to do anything about it. Her home had acquired a rustic country patina. Inside was warm and cozy and comfortable and she headed for the tea kettle.

Trevor Blaine stopped his vehicle on the road and looked down toward the farm just outside Stamford Bridge. Nothing ever changed here. It looked the same as it did when he was a lad. He drove through the gate and got out and latched it behind him. He didn’t know a helluva lot about farming. It had never been his thing; even when he knew the home farm would come to him he neglected to learn how to manage it. It sat dormant for years after his parents died. He’d brought his wife up here hoping to save their marriage, but even that had been a disaster. You didn’t walk into a farm house after it’d been sitting empty for eight years and find everything clean and varmitless. After that he’d located a tenant farmer and installed him in the manager’s cottage. But now, the bloke was unable to work the farm and had moved out, leaving it to so called hired help. It was to the main house he turned his car.

The house looked empty, cold and neglected, all of which it was. Built of local stone the color of thunder clouds it accommodated the lay of the land sloping down on one side to join the farmyard. The yard was muddy. He glanced down, knowing somewhere under the muck were cobblestones. They ought to be cleaned off, he thought. He gave the door a shoulder to help it along and it opened. Leaving the old fashioned key in the lock, he walked into the low beamed room. He could smell the dust and moldering furniture. Upstairs was worse; a broken window made an opening for a wren who flew at him from her nest on top of his mother’s wardrobe.

He stood in the hall, giving the bird her bedroom for the moment. “What was I thinking?” he asked himself.

“I thought if you’d nothing better you might ride up with me. You needn’t stay but it would be good I think for you to see what we have to work with in summer. It was cold when we were last there, nothing leafed out.” Margret sat down in her easy chair with her phone.

Blaine thumped a charcoal pencil on his desk. “I would like to do that. When are you leaving?”

“Day after tomorrow, early.”

“I’ll pick you up before nine.”

“Nine is not early, Blaine.”

“It is for me.” He smiled and drew a clock face on his pad.

“All right, I’ll be looking for you.”

Blaine lay his phone down and picked up one of the photos. By now he’d been through them a hundred times and knew them by heart. He knew things about his father, that he was happy here. One close-up showed that in his eyes. He had a nice smile. The pictures brought back some long stored memories of him. He felt his father would be happy to know he was here carrying on. He’d reread the letter from his mother several times and could now do so without emotion. She had not hated him after all, and she had not hated his father. He remembered her as being unemotional. Her expression never seemed to change. There was no way for him to know what went on behind her eyes for she’d spoken little to him.

He was sorry that she’d waited until she was dying to speak to him and sorry she hadn’t given him his father a long time ago. Her letter didn’t indicate it but he wondered if she had been sorry too. He put the pictures back in a box and put them in his desk drawer. Time to look out his wellies and let the household know he’d be gone for a few days.

“I forget how beautiful this part of England is,” Blaine observed as he drove them toward York.

Margret looked out of her window. “You get away from the cities and this is what you get. I could never live in London.”

“We worked up here once before…Ripon, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, we should drive over one day and have a look…see if it still lives.”

Margret had her map out on her lap but Blaine smiled at her and adjusted his GPS. “Trust me.”

They spent the better part of the day at Burnby House Museum and gardens. Blaine was especially interested in the lakes with their water lilies and goldfish. The area where they were to work was on the south end. Blaine took some pictures which he intended to enlarge.

“I may make a few changes.”

“Oh, now don’t start that. We’ll be delayed for approval.”

“Small ones, Margret, no one will notice.”

As they were walking to his car to leave his phone rang.

“David, just thought I’d let you know I’m at the farm. Got here about three days ago.”

“Ah, well, how is it?”

“Oh, I’ve tossed out the birds and killed a few spiders. It, uh, needs work.”

“Where are you? You never said where the farm is.”

“You were up here as a kid a few times. I’m just outside of Stamford Bridge.”

“Oh, ha! We are in Pocklington. Practically on your doorstep.”

“Come by then. What are you doing in Pock?”

“Burnby House gardens.”

“Water lilies.”

“Yes, there are a lot of them here. We were just about to leave; I’ve Margret Langston with me.”

“I’ll put the kettle on and here’s how to get here…” He gave Blaine directions to the farm.

Blaine turned into the gate and Margret latched it behind him. “Do you remember this place?” she asked.

“I do remember coming here to see my grandparents. I must have been six or seven at the time. We stayed here for a few days.”

Margret was as anxious to see the farm as he was. Old properties always held her interest.

Trevor came out of the door into the yard. He’d been able to wash part of it off with a garden hose, making a track through the muck.

“I remembered where I was going once I got on the road out there.” Blaine climbed out of the vehicle and reached in the back for his cane. He’d done a lot of walking today.

“Miss Langston, good to see you again.”

“Yes, and you too. We met when Willy was born down at Gravesend.”

“What have you done with the ankle biters today?”

“Lyssa is at home and Willy is with Billy in London.”

“Well, come in but don’t expect much.” He moved a bucket and a sour mop from the doorstep. “It’s been sitting here on its own for awhile.”

The hall smelled of cleaning products and damp. Off the hall to the right was a long low-beamed room with an enormous fireplace at one end. Three long narrow windows let in what light there was in the room. Trevor went about turning on lights.

“I’ve given everything a beating in here but I don’t recommend it.”

“How long has it set empty?” Margret asked.

“Oh, about fifteen years. I stayed out here for awhile after my divorce…few months.”

“Do you mind if I have a poke about?”

“No, go ahead.”

David had been walking around looking at the long low room. “You have much work to do here to make it livable again. Is that what you desire to do?”

“I had in mind to but now I’m not so sure if I can do that. I mean it’s all right for me, you know, but if you wanted to bring your family up then…” He shook his head.

Blaine walked to one of the windows. “What happened to the farm animals?”

“Sold off except for a few head of sheep.”

“It would be a shame to let it go back.”

“Yeah, it would but this ain’t my thing, David. I don’t know where to start other than chucking out all this stuff in here.”

David shrugged, “I could give you the name of my contractor. He can bring the structure back to where it needs to be. As for this, for the inside furnishings, I do know a good decorator.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think about you,” Trevor smiled. “This is probably right up your alley.”

“It may be expensive and I don’t know how you stand with that.”

“I’m nowhere on your level of wealth. I’m a pauper next to you but I’m okay. How much are you thinking it will take? I could get a loan?”

I couldn’t say without the contractor going over it. Shall I send him to you? I’ll pay for his services.”

“No, you won’t.”

Blaine grinned, “For the assessment, let me pay for that. It is only money and mine to spend as I wish. I have set enough aside for Lyssa and Willy and that sum continues to grow. The rest is…just money.”

“Ali left you set for life, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did, and with enough toys to keep the oil barons happy. I have my own jet at a private airfield. I have the Medea. I have a penthouse in London that I have not set foot in since his death.”

“Why don’t you sell it?”

“I don’t know. The last time I was with him was there…when he was Ali…before Ali, the man I knew, died in the explosion.”

“Still hurts, huh?”

“It will always hurt.” He sighed, “Well, what about this farm? I have made my father’s house into my home. I can help you do the same for this place if you will let me.”

Trevor put his arm around Blaine’s shoulder. “Let me think about it. Meanwhile, you’d better have a look about. This ain’t Gravesend but it was a nice place when I was a young man and Mom and Dad were here.”

Trevor made tea with bottled water. He didn’t trust the well water.

“Does the farm have a name?” Margret asked.

“Linden Hill Farm. It comes to me from my mother’s side of the family, David’s grandmother. I don’t have any idea how long they worked it.”

“I could find out for you.”

“Okay.” Trevor sat down at the old well-scrubbed table. The mismatched wooden chairs around it still creaked from the hosing they got earlier.

“Margret is an expert on historic properties.”

She stuck her nose in the mug of tea.

“What did you think of it? Is it a tear down?”

“Oh, my no. I’d say part of this house is from the sixteenth century. It’s been built on over the years.”

“Yeah, it’s a ramble of a house.”

“You couldn’t do better than having your nephew take charge of refurbishing the house. He’s done an excellent job with Gravesend. It rivals any National Trust property out there.”

Trevor looked at Blaine. “We’re considering that. It’d be quite a job I’m thinking. May take up a lot of your time.”

“I need to be busy with something.”

“I thought you were doing up the gardens at Burnby House.”

“I do not actually take up a shovel. I design and Margret takes it from there. My work there will be minimal from the day they break ground. We can work out the financing, Uncle Trevor.”

“Once you start moving you don’t stop, do you?”

“He’s like that,” Margret smiled and looked over at Blaine.

ON TO EUROCLYDON OF HOPE

BACK TO TIME LIKE WATER

BACK TO REGENERATION OF THE HEART

BACK TO A SHORT CONVERSATION WITH DAVID BLAINE AND HIS AUTHOR

BACK TO THE VELVET TRAP

BACK TO THE EXCHANGE, SECTION TWO

BACK TO THE EXCHANGE, SECTION ONE

BACK TO NINE POUND TEN

BACK TO WATERS OF MY BIRTH

BACK TO THE MEDEA STEAMPUNK'D