He rested his head against the chair and picked up the remote control to flick on the television. The Barney she knew hadn’t had much time for the ‘idiot box’, as he put it; he’d always wanted to be outside, or listen to the news on the radio or his iPad.
‘Please come out there with me, Barney.’
He set the remote control down. ‘I’d rather rest.’
‘Come on, I’m back in the village to see you and spend time with you.’ And when she kept staring at him, her gaze unwavering, she hit his weak spot. Having her here was enough of a boost to win him over.
‘Fine, have it your way.’
She grabbed the walking frame. ‘We’ll go slow, don’t worry.’ Positioning it in front of him, she tried to read whether he wanted any assistance or not and when he held out an arm she helped him up before he gingerly put his hands on the walking frame.
They walked slowly to the open back door and followed the path along past the windows at the front of the house until they stepped through the gap between the trees and into the sunny courtyard.
‘People love the ball every summer,’ Melissa told him as they made their way steadily across to the barn. ‘I was so excited when I was finally old enough to go as a guest. I got to put on a proper dress like all the other ladies I’d seen over the years.’ She looked at the barn, the buddleia bush to the right that would bloom every August with its rich purple flowers on cone-shaped heads, bringing with it the scent of honey. For now, as they approached the barn doors, the buddleia bush only had leaves of deep green as it lay in wait for the months to roll on so it would have its turn to show off.
‘My favourite part was watching the guests arrive,’ she went on, wondering whether, if she conjured up enough memories for him, brought to mind the looks on people’s faces and reminded Barney how much delight he gave to everyone in the village, perhaps it could persuade him not to abandon the event altogether, to consider that maybe there was an alternative solution. ‘I’d analyse their faces – some looked nervous, others excited, a few couldn’t stop laughing because they’d managed to squeeze into dresses that hadn’t seen the light of day in decades. And don’t even get me started on Patricia from Oak Cottage and the expander she told us about.’
Barney couldn’t contain a laugh as he steadied himself against the walking frame. The sound bubbled out of him like the softest music, a reminder that the man she knew was in there somewhere.
Encouraged, Melissa continued. ‘She went into great detail telling everyone how she’d gained twenty-eight pounds since she was married, had no intention of losing it, so had employed the services of an expert seamstress to let out her dress considerably.’ It wasn’t funny that she’d put on weight, it was the way Patricia had told the story – complete with actions to mime trying to get into the dress determinedly because she wanted to go to the ball, much like one of the sisters in Cinderella trying to ram a shoe onto her foot. Melissa wondered what Patricia’s reaction to seeing her would be when she bumped into her. Patricia worked shifts in the tea rooms, or at least that’s what she’d been doing when Melissa left. And better than having had the amusing memory herself, she’d put a smile on Barney’s face.
Melissa and Barney were still talking about the ball when Harvey pulled his truck into the courtyard from the lane that led around the fields beyond and sneaked in the back way to Barney’s place.
‘You seem to have cheered him up,’ he told Melissa when he stepped down from the truck as Barney inspected the lavender bush nearby, pulling off a couple of spent blooms that held no colour. ‘You got him outside, it’s a positive step.’
‘Here’s hoping.’ She kept her voice low and crossed her fingers on both hands, grinning at Harvey.
He seemed to suddenly remember they weren’t as close as they had once been and the relaxed conversation was replaced with a stilted, ‘Only came to bring some hinges to fix up the door.’
‘You work all day,’ said Barney, who had come over to join them, his hands resting firmly on the walking frame as all three stood outside the double doors to the barn. ‘No need to have to do it here as well.’
‘No arguments, Barney, I’m happy to do it.’
The second Harvey pulled open the door on one side, gently, explaining this was the door he needed to fix with the hinge, the smell got her first. The sweet, earthy scent of freshly cut hay scattered across the pale grey concrete floor. She could see where it had come from – the few bales piled in the corner, another couple halfway down the interior, one beside the doors. The barn had been a huge part of her childhood, a play space, somewhere she could do gymnastics freely, a place where there was laughter, a plentiful supply of apple juice, a friendship that had lasted…until it hadn’t.
Another memory rose and washed over her as she pictured her mum and dad dancing in the middle of the crowds like they’d done every year. Her mum, who detested the summer heat, had her hair pinned up, a delicate pink flower barely a contrast to the red hair that had faded as she grew older; her dad wore the same suit he’d got married in, the cummerbund a good fit. And they’d both been fine dancers. They’d never had formal lessons but that hadn’t stopped her dad teaching Melissa before her first ball – they’d danced in the kitchen, along by the cooker and around the table, as her mum cooked the dinner.
The barn had also been a welcome escape from the sunshine on the days when it beat down upon them relentlessly. They’d had ice-creams from Barney’s freezer – he’d gone about his business and let them have the freedom neither of them really got at home. Melissa’s family home was too small to run around in, with a modest square garden that her mum had always kept immaculate. The time she and her brother had had competitions on the swing seeing who could go highest and then jump from it into the vegetable patch hadn’t gone down well. They’d ruined half of whatever it was she’d planted and that had been the end of the game, and the swing’s demise. But here, in this barn, there was more space than they could hope for, and for Harvey it had been a space away from his dad that gave him his sanity. Sometimes Harvey had come here not wanting to talk about his home life; other times he’d kicked hay bales, thrown apples outside, anything to release his frustration. Melissa remembered Harvey turning up one day and Barney handing him a basket of spoiled apples. He’d taken Harvey outside, around the back of the barn where there were the remains of an old six-foot wall, and he’d told him to sling each apple against it. Barney had joined in, Melissa too, and by the end Harvey knew he wasn’t alone in all of this. His father could do his worst and he’d still be standing.
‘Is it just like you remembered?’ Harvey broke into her thoughts now.
‘Yes.’ But, looking up, she realised there’d been a lot of maintenance along the way. ‘The wooden timbers look new.’
‘Replaced last summer,’ he confirmed as they watched Barney sit down on the hay bale nearest the door. ‘This barn takes quite a bit of upkeep, especially with the ball running every year.’
‘Except that now it isn’t.’
‘He still hasn’t come around?’
‘He seems pretty adamant.’
Harvey exhaled, ran a hand through his hair. Melissa had always loved the way the tufts on top fell in different directions when he did that. He never styled his hair, it just had its own habits. Once upon a time he’d had a long fringe and she’d teased him about it, so much so that he handed her the scissors and told her to cut it. His mum had gone spare. The fringe, jagged and far from a professional job, had prompted his mum to come and have words with Melissa. But all Melissa had thought was that at least it wasn’t his dad who had seen it first. He was away with work and it gave Harvey’s mum enough time to employ the services of a decent hairdresser and sort it out.
Melissa spotted the old apple press. ‘I thought he might have got rid of that or upgraded it.’
‘No need, works perfectly well,’ Harvey replied, mimicking Barney’s tone, before he ducked outside to grab his tools for the repair to the door hinge.
Melissa strolled around the barn, rubbing her hands against her upper arms as tiny goose pimples appeared. It was warm enough outside for the delicate blue T-shirt dress she’d chosen for today, but so much cooler in here.
