Matty - Part 10

Matty Part 10 - Picnic

Philippa sat on a thick woollen picnic rug watching Matthew and Dylan. They had climbed onto a huge sandstone rock that overhung the edge of the lake, and were looking down into the water. Matthew held Dylan tightly by the arms as they leaned forward for a better look.

‘There,’ said Matthew as he spotted the carp on the bottom of the lake. ‘A big fat one. Can you see it’s tail moving?’

‘Where?’ Dylan asked.

‘Just at the edge of that clump of weed,’ replied Matthew as the carp suddenly turned and began to swim away.

‘I can see him!’ shouted Dylan, pointing. ‘Where’s he going?’

‘To get some peace and quiet, I should think.’ Matthew pulled Dylan back from the edge and took in the view: Purple rhododendrons, and trees in the flush of spring, surrounded the whole of the lake, making it a very beautiful place; though the sky had now clouded over and the wind had picked up.

Matthew and Dylan jumped down from the rock and walked back over to Philippa. ‘Can we have some more picnic?’ Dylan asked, as he flopped down on the rug.

‘Yes, there’s plenty more,’ replied Philippa, opening the cool-box. Matthew noticed the goose-pimples on Philippa’s arms, and picked up his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘Another beer?’

‘Please,’ Matthew replied.

***

The traffic on the motorway had been much lighter than David Lord had expected, and he had made good time as he crossed the Pennines and returned to Whartondale. As he drove up the lane towards The Manor’s stone entrance pillars he barely noticed the Vauxhall parked a little further along the lane, and as his Jaguar entered the grounds, its wheels throwing up gravel from the drive, Sapphire trotted over to the fence. David looked across at the mare and then swung his car in front of the garage, raising the door with his remote control and reversing the car into its space beside Philippa’s Porsche. He climbed out and looked again at the damage done by the vandals to the Jaguar’s paintwork, imagining what he would have done to them if he had caught them in the act.

He closed and locked the garage door, and carrying his travel-bag he walked across the yard to the porch and tried the door. It was locked, so he took his keys from his pocket and let himself in. He walked through the house expecting to find Philippa but there was no sign of her. He called out her name but there was no reply. He went upstairs half expecting to find her in her Jacuzzi but she was not there, so he walked through to his own bathroom and undressed. He showered and shaved and then put on his dressing gown and, feeling tired, he walked over to the bed and lay on it, closing his eyes for a moment, immediately feeling the motion of the sea, as though he was still on board Silver Cloud. And then, slowly, he drifted into a dream filled sleep.

***

Philippa, Matthew and Dylan sat by the lake for a while longer, before putting the empty larger cans into the cool-box, folding the rug, and setting off back through the woods towards the garden. As they passed through the garden they felt the first few drops of rain.

‘I think we better bring Sapphire in from the paddock,’ said Philippa, as they walked over to the gate in the high wall that divided the yard from the garden. The wind was getting stronger and the leaves of the oak tree near the corner of the barn fluttered, while the lower branches swayed and scratched at the roof. Philippa unlocked the door to the stable and the three of them walked inside. Then Philippa walked over to the rear door and unlocked and opened it, calling to Sapphire, who came trotting over at once.

‘Can have a ride?’ asked Dylan.

Philippa looked out of the door at the sky. The rain had stopped. ‘Shall we give him a little ride?’ she said to Matthew.

‘Yes, if you don’t mind,’ said Matthew.

‘Of course not,’ said Philippa, as she led Sapphire back into the paddock.

Matthew lifted Dylan onto Sapphire’s back, instructing him to hold on tight to her mane. Then Philippa led off, avoiding the muddy places and walking Sapphire full circle while Matthew walked beside Dylan, steadying him with his left hand. Suddenly the rain returned, its heavy drops beating down upon them, and they hurried back through the stable door. But immediately the rain stopped.

‘The weather really can’t make its mind up today,’ remarked Philippa.

Matthew lifted Dylan down from Sapphire’s back and went and sat with him on the bales of straw in the middle stall while Philippa led Sapphire to her stall, stopping to close both of the stable doors. The light from the single window in the wall beside the yard door was dim so Philippa switched on the overhead electric lights. Dylan wanted to help with Sapphire but Matthew kept hold of him, knowing that horses could be unpredictable, especially in a confined space. Dylan sat still for a while then began to yawn. Then he lay on his side on the straw bales, instantly falling asleep.

As Philippa closed the door to Sapphire’s stall Matthew stood and walked over to her. He held her around the waist and kissed her and then turned, looking up to the hayloft at the top of the wooden staircase. ‘What’s up there?’ he asked.

‘It's just the hayloft,’ replied Philippa. ‘Why?’

‘I’ve never had a roll in the hay,’ said Matthew, with an amorous smile on his face.

Philippa looked into the second stall where Dylan lay fast asleep.

‘He’ll sleep for hours if we don’t disturb him,’ said Matthew.

Philippa locked both of the stable doors, leaving her keys in the door from the yard. And as the two of them climbed the wooden staircase to the hayloft, they heard a rumble of thunder close by.

‘I’ve never made love in a storm,’ said Philippa, as Matthew rearranged some of the straw bales and laid the picnic rug on top of them. ‘How romantic.’

***

Thunder interrupted David Lord’s dream, and he woke thinking, for a moment, that he was still aboard Silver Cloud. He got to his feet and walked over to his walk-in wardrobe, taking socks and underwear from a drawer, and selecting a pair of grey slacks, a grey sweatshirt and a pair of soft leather shoes. He dressed and went downstairs, still puzzled as to where Philippa might be. He stopped beside the telephone in the hall and dialled the number for Philippa’s mobile. Immediately he heard it ringing in the dinning room and replaced the receiver, walking through to the dinning room to find the phone on the dinning table. He stepped across to the French windows and looked out. The sky overhead was dark and rain was beginning to fall; though the sun was shining on the hills in the distance. He stood thinking for a moment, then walked over to the dinning room telephone and picked up the receiver, opening the small flip-top address book that lay beside the phone and then dialling Samuel’s number.

After three rings, the phone was answered. ‘Scarford six, one, three, four, double five.’

‘Samuel, it’s David. Have you any idea where Philippa might be?’ David asked.

‘No, Mr. Lord,' came the reply. 'Have you tried the house?’

‘I’m at the house. I’ve returned early because of the weather.’

‘Oh.' Samuel sounded surprised. 'Perhaps she’s out riding.’

‘No, Sapphires out in the Paddock.'

‘Visiting friends perhaps?’ Samuel suggested.

‘No,' said David, 'her car’s in the garage.’

‘Oh… Err… well… she might…’

‘Might what, Samuel?’

‘Well.' Samuel hesitated. 'Perhaps she’s with the young gentleman.’

‘Young gentleman?' said David, raising his voice a little. 'What young gentleman?’

‘Well, Samuel began, 'it’s… it’s not really my place to say, but…’

‘But what? Spit it out, man!’

‘Well, she seems to be friendly with the young man from the vicarage.’

‘Friendly? What are you saying, Samuel?' David raised his voice again. 'Are you suggesting that my wife is having some sort of an affair?’

‘Well, I did see them in the village, Mr. Lord, and…'

‘And?’

‘Well… they were kissing.’

For several seconds, David stood in silence, his mind churning, and then, remembering that Samuel was on the other end of the line he said, ‘Thank you, Samuel,’ and replaced the receiver.

He walked back to the French windows and stood for a long time looking out at the rain. Then he returned to the hall and raced up the stairs and into the bedroom. He opened the door to Philippa’s walk-in wardrobe and looked inside. Everything looked as he would have expected. He walked over to the window and looked out. The rain was falling faster, and there was a flash of sheet lightening, followed a few seconds later by a loud rumble of thunder, yet still in the distance, the sky was clear and the sun still shining. From the window he could see only part of the paddock, and there was no sign of Sapphire. It was then that David noticed the light coming from the stable window.

***

Matthew and Philippa lay in each other’s arms, listening to the rain hammering on the roof tiles above their heads. Philippa shivered, and Matthew covered her naked body with his, while attempting to wrap his half of the picnic rug around his shoulders.

‘Were there any street parties in the village?’ Philippa asked.

‘For the Queen’s jubilee? No, I don’t think so,’ replied Matthew. ‘My uncle and aunt were going to a Jubilee barbecue in Ilkley though.’

‘Oh dear. It sounds a bit wet out there. Perhaps it’s just another shower… Talking of showers. Do you fancy a nice hot one?’ Philippa asked.

‘I’d love one, but we’ll get a cold one first, getting across to the house.’

‘No we won’t,’ said Philippa. ‘Follow me.’ She extracted herself from Matthew’s embrace and stood up, reaching for her clothes and trainers. Matthew picked up his own clothes and trainers and followed her down the wooden staircase, watched by Sapphire, but not by Dylan who was still asleep.

Philippa led Matthew into the shower room and laid her clothes on the rack on the wall beside the towels. ‘Excuse me a minute,’ she said. ‘I need a pee.’

Matthew watched her walk naked to the other end of the room and enter the toilet cubicle. ‘After you,’ he said.

Still holding his clothes, Matthew turned towards the door opposite to the one they had just come through, wondering where it led. He opened it and, feeling for a light switch, he walked through into the gym as the fluorescent tubes flickered into life. He noticed first the exercise machines and then the swords and photographs mounted on the wall. He put his trainers and clothes down on the floor beside the door and walked over to look at the photographs and then at the swords. A pair of them looked old, with simple but beautifully engraved cruciform hilts and handles.

‘Are we showering or not?’ Philippa asked, standing naked in the doorway. Last one in’s a sissy!’

Matthew chased after her.

***

David ran across the yard in the pouring rain and tried the stable door, but found that it was locked. He fumbled with his keys, finding what he thought was the right one, but it would not enter the lock, as there was obviously a key in the lock on the inside. He ran along the side of the barn to the door to the gym, sorting through his keys. There was another flash of lightening as he unlocked the door and entered, and a loud clap of thunder followed as he closed it.

The lights were on and he could hear voices coming from the shower room. Seeing that the door to the shower room was open, he crept towards it, feeling like an intruder, despite being on his own property. He heard Philippa’s voice and then a man’s, and then he heard Philippa giggle. He walked silently to the door and looked around the door casing. Philippa and a man were standing naked outside the shower, locked in what was obviously a passionate embrace.

David’s head jerked backwards and he withdrew into the gym, again he feeling like an intruder in his own home. It was then that he noticed the neat pile of clothes sitting on a pair of trainers on the floor beside the door.

***

A loud clap of thunder woke Dylan, and he sat up with a start. He was frightened and about to start crying, but then he saw Sapphire’s head above the side of the low wooden wall that divided the two stalls. He scrambled towards her and stood on a bale of straw, holding onto the stall side with his hands, and trying to make the clicking sound that his father had made.

‘Hello, Horsey,’ he said.

Then he heard familiar voices and turned, realising that they were coming from a door at the end of the stable.

***

While Philippa dressed, Matthew hung their towels back on the rack and walked along the shower room and into the gym. He stooped to pick up his clothes but then heard a noise and turned to see what it was. A man in damp grey clothing confronted him. Matthew immediately recognised him as the man in the photographs, and then realised that the man was holding the two engraved swords, their long thin blades pointing towards the floor.

‘Get dressed,’ said David, with a calmness that he did not feel.

Matthew, now realising that this must be David Lord, Philippa’s husband, began to dress himself, and as he fastened his jeans and buckled the belt, Philippa walked through the door.

‘What was that, Matthew?’ she said. Then she too saw David, his face a mask of hatred, a sword held in each hand.

‘David... I’

‘Yes. David… your husband. Remember me?’ he asked venomously. A loud clap of thunder overhead seemed to emphasise his words.

Matthew took a step towards him. ‘Look, this is my fault…’ he began. But David threw one of the swords, hilt uppermost, towards Matthew and, instinctively, he caught it. He looked at the sword in his hand and then at Philippa, his mouth suddenly very dry.

‘You want her, you can fight for her,’ said David, transferring the remaining sword to his right hand.

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ exclaimed Philippa, stepping between David and Matthew. David struck her a vicious blow across the face with the back of his left hand, and she fell backwards towards the wall, striking her head on it. She slid to the floor, dazed but still conscious, and then David, almost blind with rage, raised the sword in his right hand and took a step towards her.

‘No!’ Matthew shouted. 'Leave her alone!' Clumsily, he wielded the unfamiliar weapon in his hand and, as David turned towards him, he struck his shoulder, cutting the fabric of his sweatshirt and drawing blood; while David, in a fit of rage, swung his own sword, which clashed against Matthew’s, causing him to spin to his left, and knocking the sword from his hand and sending it clattering to the floor.

***

Dylan pushed open the shower room door and walked through to the next door following the sound of voices. He heard his father shout ‘No!’ and then another sound as though something had been knocked over. And then, as he entered the next room he saw a man with a long shiny stick take a stride towards his father and stab him in the chest with it.

***

David withdrew his sword and Matthew clutched at the wound in his right breast. As blood oozed between his fingers he swayed and his legs gave way and he fell, first to his knees and then onto his side.

‘Daddy! My daddy!’ screamed Dylan, ‘you hurt my daddy!’

He rushed over to his father’s prone body and flung himself down on top of him, holding him as though screening him from further blows.

Philippa roused herself and, leaning against the wall, pushed herself up until she was standing, her mind fighting the reality of what she had just witnessed. She staggered towards Matthew and Dylan, looking down at them, and then turned towards David.

‘You bastard!’ she screamed, as she rushed at him. ‘You Bastard!’

David took several steps backwards, looking at the sword in his right hand as blood dripped from its point and, as Philippa came at him, he raised it defensively. Again there was a crash of thunder and lightening and the whole building seemed to shake, and the electric lights flickered. Outside there was a mighty screeching and tearing sound, but Philippa was oblivious to it as she raced towards the point of the sword.

TO BE CONTINUED