‘Does Seb ever come up here with you?’ I asked, hugging my rose cutting.
‘No,’ he said, the word coming out on a sigh. ‘Not really since he was injured. He’d come before, when he was around, and help me do bits and bobs. Of course, there are certain things he can’t manage quite so well now and I think because of that he feels…’ He stood, and another sigh escaped him. ‘I don’t know what he feels, Lottie, if I’m honest. I’ve never expected him to do stuff up here, even before it all happened. This was always my love, not his, but he seemed happy enough to be here and I was glad of the company, just as I would be now.’
I frowned, trying to reconcile this with the awkwardness I’d witnessed earlier and what Seb had said about feeling like a disappointment to his father. Obviously, I had no idea of what was really going on, and it was likely way more complicated, just as Seb had mentioned, but I was beginning to wonder if it couldn’t be a lot simpler.
‘It just seems like we’re very different people these days.’
‘Or maybe it’s that you’re very much alike.’
He rested his hands behind his back for a moment and I got a flash of how he would have looked before he retired, his posture now still and straight as he studied me. ‘You’re a quiet sort, but I get the feeling you’re a little bit like a swan – there’s a lot going on that nobody sees.’
I gave a shy smile, aware that he was pretty much right on the money.
‘That’s what I thought. Come on, let’s get you back to the house before I get in trouble with Seb for taking up too much of your time.’
‘Where I spend my time isn’t really his decision.’
At this he grinned. ‘That is true.’
28
We headed out of the allotment, back towards the squeaky gate, me holding on tight to my new plant. The silence was companionable as we listened to the sounds of nature in the trees surrounding the plots. Pulling the gate closed behind us, we set off back down the lane.
‘Thanks again for this,’ I said, holding my pot out.
‘You’re very welcome.’ Mr Marshall smiled, but there was a sadness behind it. ‘I miss my wife every day, but I’m glad she’s not here to see how much Seb and I have drifted apart. It would break her heart.’
I glanced across and wondered if it wasn’t breaking the hearts of those that were still here.
‘Alice was never really cut out to be an army wife. I mean, she adapted and coped, but, given the choice, I know it wouldn’t have been her first one. I think Seb, as the oldest, was more aware of that than Jamie. I think he feels I should have been around more for her. Sometimes I feel that maybe I should have left the service and given her and the boys a more settled and stable life.’
I considered this for a moment. ‘True, but then you wouldn’t have been doing what you wanted and your wife would have known that. From what I’ve heard about her from Seb and you, I get the feeling that if she knew you weren’t doing what you wanted to be doing, it wouldn’t have made her happy.’
‘Maybe. But perhaps if he hadn’t been exposed to that life, Seb wouldn’t have ended up going into the army either.’
The consequences of that particular decision were clear but left unsaid.
‘Would you mind if I asked you a question?’
‘Of course not.’
‘It’s… a little personal.’ I chewed the side of my mouth for a minute. ‘Actually, forget I said anything.’ I gave him a look under my lashes, embarrassed I had almost got carried away.
His look was even. ‘Ask away, Lottie.’
‘Are you sure? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’
He looked across at me.
‘OK. I just sort of wondered if you…’ I stopped, running through the question in my head. ‘If you feel responsible for what happened to Seb.’ I rushed on, ‘It’s just that, from how you were talking, it sounds like you do, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want that.’
Mr Marshall remained silent for a few moments and I gave myself a mental kick for not keeping my thoughts to myself. Whether he did or didn’t, it was none of my business. I should have just kept my mouth shut. Damn.
‘Not directly.’ The voice was steady but quiet. I looked up at him, but his gaze was fixed on a point somewhere out on the horizon. ‘I didn’t plant the IED that blew up his vehicle, but if he’d had a different childhood? Not been exposed to the army life? Maybe he’d have made different choices.’ He gave a little shrug, his eyes still on a point in the distance – or perhaps in the past.
‘You can’t think that way,’ I told him, my voice soft. ‘Seb made his own decisions. What if you’d been a banker? Or a lawyer?’
He looked at me and screwed up his nose, making me laugh and lightening the moment. But the words I was saying still held weight.
