Monday, 14 July 2025

MOLLY by Guy Pratt, a glass of red wine

                                                      

Duncan Ford had not been back to the village for decades. After he had left home to join the army his parents, now long deceased, had moved away, but where he had grown up was always home to him. Now after years spent in the forces and then the diplomatic service, it was the place where he wanted to spend his retirement years. He stopped beside the Parish Church deciding to wander around the gravestones knowing that many of the older generation he knew as a young man would probably be laid to rest there now.

He had not gone far when a petite woman in jeans and an Aran sweater stood up from tending a grave and exclaimed “It’s Duncan! Isn’t it?” He looked hard. Molly Grainger had been five or six years older than him when he was a boy, a grown up to him then, but she looked far from her sixty-five years. They were soon in animated conversation. Looking down he said, “I see that’s your Brother George’s grave you are putting flowers on.” “Yes,” Molly replied, “He passed away last year. He never married and I had him laid next to mother.”

Molly had been a late unplanned surprise. Her parents had two older boys already out at work when she was born. Her father had experienced a mustard gas attack in the trenches in the First World War and with a weak chest had later succumbed to TB a few months after Molly’s birth. Her brother Frank joined the Merchant Navy and perished with a convoy in World War Two. George remained at home, apart from wartime and worked on a farm in the village, provided for his mother and was a father to Molly.  Although she only had a secondary education, noting she had a flair for figures, George had encouraged Molly to get a job with a local firm of accountants and she had become a very competent bookkeeper.

With a woman’s natural curiosity, Molly was soon asking Duncan if he had married and had a family. Duncan related how he had married a lady overseas, brought her back to England and set up home in Surrey, he was working at the Ministry of Defence then, and they had a baby daughter. When Duncan had to go on a six-month unaccompanied tour overseas he returned to a wife asking for a divorce. She had used Duncan to get her British passport now she’d taken up with an elderly stockbroker intent on getting his fortune. He felt she had made a fool of him and was glad to be rid of her. Though as his daughter grew up, she maintained regular contact with him recognising that money lavished on her was nothing compared to Duncan’s real parental affection.

Molly had never left the village and conversation turned to those who were young when they were young. In his youth Duncan had a fondness for pretty Susan Jarvis, a couple of years younger than him and her father farmed the biggest acreage in the village. Much as he had liked Susan, he despised her brother Charlie who was three years older than him. Charlie was a bully. He frequently picked on Duncan and the incidents in the school swimming pool were the worst. He would gleefully quip “Let’s dunk Duncan” and with two or three of his cronies, he would push Duncan’s head under the water until he thought his lungs were going to burst or he would drown. Duncan hated Charlie, vowing that when he was grown up, he would cheerfully strangle him.

In spite of her brother, Duncan had hoped to marry someone like Susan and they met when he came home on his first leave from overseas. Susan was playing a little hard to get and Duncan wanted to enjoy his freedom a bit longer. He waxed lyrical about the delights of seeing the world, not realising he was infecting Susan with the travel bug. Back overseas again he was missing her and decided next time he was home to pop the question. On leave again he rang the farm. Her mother answered the phone explaining that Susan was not there. She had given up a local job and gone off to join an airline and was training to be an air hostess. Duncan had shrugged it off consoling himself with the thought there were other fish in the sea, but he never forgot Susan.

He did not have to ask, oddly it was Molly who introduced Susan into the conversation, perhaps female intuition. She related how Susan had delighted in flying around the world with an international airline seeing the sights in faraway cities. Then she met Bill, a dashing pilot who swept her off her feet. All her friends tried desperately to warn her, but she was blindly smitten. Bill thought he was the ace of the Mile High Club counting his conquests like a Spitfire pilot logging downed German aircraft, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. The marriage lasted only three years and she came home with a baby son and became rather recluse. She took up writing short stories for women’s magazines. Susan’s heroines were usually disappointed in love when they were young only to find true romance in later life. Strangely, as Susan got older so did her heroines as though they reflected her own inner longings.  

Molly said, “Why not come home for lunch and meet my husband if you have the time to spare.” and Duncan cheerfully accepted. As they walked through the village towards a large modern bungalow, Molly turned the conversation again to Charlie Jarvis explaining that he had become a totally different person since Duncan had last known him. Charlie had left school to work on his father’s farm and enjoyed sports, playing football, tennis and cricket. Then one day the accident occurred – his arm got trapped and mangled in a piece of unguarded machinery and had to be amputated. Charlie went completely to pieces, his moods swinging between violent anger and abject self-pity. No one could get near him until the new vicar started visiting him. The Reverend Jones had been chaplain to a regiment captured by the Japanese in Burma and had endured suffering on the Burma Railway. No one knew the content of their conversations but Charlie became the most positive and compassionate of people and since that time served as church warden to three consecutive vicars.

Molly opened the door and ushered Duncan through into the lounge, “Charlie we’ve got a visitor for lunch.” she called out and before he knew it Duncan was shaking a prosthetic right hand. After the initial formalities, Molly said “Why don’t you two go down the Crown for a half pint and catch up on old times while I’m preparing lunch.” As soon as they were out of the door she picked up the phone and was saying something about a foursome.

As they walked to the pub Charlie was quick to say “Duncan I’ve always wanted to meet you again to say sorry for the way I treated you when we were kids.” Apologies were accepted and it was never to be thought of again.

Charlie explained how he and Mollie came together. Soon after he had recovered from the accident, still in his mid- twenties, his father died after a fall from his horse when out with the local hunt. In the wave of post-war agricultural prosperity Jack Jarvis had wanted to make up for the years of pre-war austerity in farming. He rode with the hounds, went to race days at Newmarket, drank and gambled more than he should. He kept buying more land, wanting to be the gentleman country land owner.

Everything was left to his mother with Charlie to manage the farm on her behalf. His father had dealt with the accounts and when the books were opened an appalling situation was revealed. There were gambling debts, agricultural merchant’s bills unpaid and the home farm as well as the rest of the land he had purchased had been heavily mortgaged in a desperate attempt to stave off his creditors.

George Grainger, Molly’s brother, was working on the Jarvis farm – he was stalwart, reliable and trustworthy and when Charlie confided his troubles, George suggested getting Molly involved. Charlie was hopeless with figures and could not afford to pay her much, but she buckled down to it and worked all hours. She negotiated payment plans with all the creditors and oversaw all the purchasing ensuring nothing was bought that was not absolutely essential. Machinery was repaired and never replaced for several years and she even went to the merchants with Charlie and drove hard bargains with the cereal buyers. Although a little older than Charlie, Molly had other charms too and Charlie fell for her and soon they were married. Pausing to sip his ale he continued “I was helped a lot by George and the Reverend Jones in those days, but Molly was the angel who saved the day. She’s been a wonderful wife as well. I’d give my other arm too before I’d lose her.”

He continued “When my mother departed, she left everything to me and Susan. Molly and I had two sons – one took to farming and one didn’t, he’s a professor of philosophy at Cambridge now. As it worked out Susan’s boy Ted loved the land, so Ted and Jim, my eldest, run the whole show in partnership now – over a thousand acres and a healthy bank balance too – I just help out as and when required. They are all married with families now and Molly and I had the bungalow built for our retirement.” Then he looked at Duncan and queried “Enough of me, what are your plans?”

Duncan explained that he was looking for a property to retire to in the village, perhaps a house in need of renovation, a project that would keep him occupied and Charlie thought he knew just the place.

As Charlie and Duncan walked back to the bungalow, a face peered out of the kitchen window and turned to Molly and chided, “You should have told me who it was and I’d have put a new dress on.” 

Charlie and Molly sat down to lunch with Duncan and Susan. When Molly had cleared the dishes off the table she came back and said, “Duncan do you like black coffee or white?” A bemused Duncan still gazing at Susan replied, “Eh what, yes please.” Susan kicked him gently under the table and Molly winked at Charlie.

Duncan and Susan wed the next year. He had bought a neglected Elizabethan manor house in the village. His daughter Jean had married Don, an architect, and they frequently came to stay for weekends. Don would advise on the restoration work and labour manually in as well. Within three years the work was completed. Despite their different career paths in retirement Duncan and Charlie got on tremendously well, and with Molly and Susan the four frequently went on cruises and touring holidays together.

Now we must fast-track forward to 2025. Molly is in her nineties now. Charlie was diagnosed with cancer in 2018, chemotherapy kept him going for a couple of years and with help from nurses coming in, Molly cared for him at home till the end. Then Susan was one of the first victims of Covid and Duncan seemed to lose the will to go on and died a few months later, but they had enjoyed over twenty blissful years together in later life. Although the eldest by far, Molly has outlived them all.

Molly’s mother had always described what a kind man her father was although she never knew him and she had tried to live up to his ideals. She had acquired wisdom with experience and whether family members or neighbours, she would always listen to the troubles of others, dispensing good advice or rolling up her sleeves to help if it was a practical issue. Now others helped her.

She is frailer now – someone from the farm comes round regularly to keep the garden tidy and a woman from the village comes in weekly to do the cleaning. Her son the professor has retired and her other son and Susan’s boy are handing over the farm to the next generation. Molly has six grandchildren and now four great-grandchildren. She delights in seeing them, but if they stay too long, she sits down with a sigh of relief when they are gone. Were children always as noisy and boisterous as that?

On a summer’s day, Molly goes out into the garden, picks a basket of roses, walks down to the churchyard and lays a rose on each grave of a loved one. Then she sits on the bench and remembers the happiest times from the past, like the day she and Charlie celebrated when all the debts were cleared and they took the boys down to the West Country for their first real holiday after years of doing without. She remembers those holidays spent later with Duncan and Susan and smiles at amusing incidents that occurred. She recalls the boy’s weddings, then the weddings of grand- children and the delights of new babes arriving and the family celebrations when they all came together for Christmas and special anniversaries. Life had been good.

April this year has been warm, though the roses are not out yet she walks slowly down to the churchyard; she’s feeling very tired now. She sits on the bench and her thoughts go back increasingly to childhood days. She remembers the time when George had to leave home to serve in the army during the war – how at bedtime she prayed with her mother each night for his safe return. The letters came from Egypt, Libya, Italy and then the official one saying he was missing in action. Frank had already been lost, the anguish they felt then, followed by the relief when they heard George was in a prisoner of war camp. Corporal George Grainger came home in 1945 the day before her 12th birthday, it was the happiest birthday of her life.

The sunshine was so warm and Molly felt so tired and sleepy she stretched out on the bench and closed her eyes. She dreamt she was moving towards a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel, then she saw people in the light. She saw her mother, George and Frank and that tall man beside her mother she knew from old photos was her father. Susan and Duncan were there and right in the middle her beloved Charlie reaching out with a fully restored right arm. She smiled as she reached out to take his hand and breathed her last.

That was how they found her later in the day, stretched out on the bench still with the flicker of a smile on her face.

About the author

Guy Pratt is a retired octogenarian second hand bookseller who enjoys gardening, long walks with his dog and travel. He gravitated into the book trade after earlier years in farming, the army Intelligence Corps and the civil service.

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