Chapter Text
The smell of the leaves
From the magnolia trees in the meadow
King Harvest has surely come
Dry summer
Then comes fall
Which I depend on most of all
Hey, rainmaker, can’t you hear the call?
Please let these crops grow tall
— “King Harvest (Has Surely Come)” by The Band, 1969
Wednesday August 27th, 1975
Lily woke up by the sound of laughter in the living room, probably from Petunia’s friends. They sounded like the devil itself and made her want to rip her hair off, but Lily got out of her bed calmly either way. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times to accustom her sight to the sun rays that hit her face, creeping in through her half-up blinds.
She was grateful for having grown taller than her sister so they had had to stop sharing a bedroom; the insupportable laughter would have been right next to her while she slept if they still shared. The hardwood floor didn’t creak much under her careful steps, as she procured to not be heard by her sister and her friends on her way to the kitchen.
The kitchen counter had flour and sugar over it, telling Lily that her sister had pretended to be a chef and she probably succeeded, just like with everything she had ever done. It also told her she had lied-in that morning. She groaned when she looked at the clock and it ticked half past two in the afternoon.
Opening the fridge, she yawned, and noticed there was no milk. She huffed. Petunia surely used it all with whatever it was that she baked—or tried to bake. Lily refused to go out to the living room to find out what it was, and maybe have that for breakfast. She preferred eating the leftovers from yesterday’s lunch.
It wasn’t exactly breakfast either, considering it was already past midday. Lily wasn’t used to waking up so late, but helping her dad in the farm the day before and staying up until past midnight had truly left her exhausted. Besides, that way she hadn’t had to face Petunia’s friends.
”She’s leaving on Saturday,” she heard her sister murmur in the living room. Petunia must not have realised that Lily had left her room and was within earshot. “I won't see her until Christmas. Unless she gets tired of being ignored and finding out everyone secretly hates her before then, of course. It’s still absurd to me that she thinks she belongs in a school like that.”
It wasn’t the first time Lily had heard something like that coming out of Petunia’s mouth, though usually it’s said directly to her face and while yelling.
It was the third of June, in the afternoon, when Lily received the letter. Signed by the school’s Head of Studies, Lily had got a letter from one of the best private schools in Europe, if not the world, situated in the Scottish Highlands. It was also one of the oldest, dating back to 1603 while England and Scotland shared the same monarch.
Four Kings’ Independent School was probably one of the institutions Lily had on her list of ‘where I would have liked to study if I was rich’ alongside Oxford and Hollingard in Ireland, her dad’s home country. To read on that letter that she was offered a scholarship to study in Four Kings’ had felt so much like a dream that she didn’t fully believe it until she went to have her measurements taken for the uniform.
It is real, she realised then. I am going to Four Kings’.
There wasn’t anyone in her family that had attended that school, or any other that required either a lot of money or meritorious grades. Unfortunately for Lily her family wasn’t as well off as others. Fortunately for Lily she spent her afternoons, weekends and days off with her nose stuck on textbooks, so she did have those meritorious grades.
And for those, she had been noticed by arguably the best school in the UK. It didn’t matter to Lily that Petunia thought she didn’t belong in a place like that, or that she would be alone until graduation; she thought there was nowhere else in the world where she belonged most.
She was practically counting down the seconds until Saturday. Her dad had told her she would go to Glasgow with her aunt that lived there, the train ticket to the city paid by the aforementioned, and from there on Sunday to the school. Conveniently her aunt was one of Four Kings’ History teachers, so she would be driving Lily to the school. Lily would’ve liked to just catch a train from York to Northern Scotland with her best friend, Severus, who was likewise enrolled in Four Kings’ (though his father could afford the tuition), but it had been a blue moon since she last saw her little cousins and she was in all honesty happy to spend a day in Glasgow with her aunt Carol. Being away from her sister and mother a day earlier than planned also had a lot to do with it.
Her aunt Carol was the youngest sister, being born after her other aunt Pearl and her mother. She was the only one of the three sisters that lived a comfortable life, without struggling much economically. Apparently Four Kings’ paid their teachers generously.
Lily had the feeling that her aunt Carol and her dad were the only members of her family that truly cared about her and were proud of her for something other than her grades or being invisible enough so Petunia could be the shiny diamond between the two sisters.
After finishing two sad pieces of bacon and an untoasted loaf of bread she walked out of the kitchen, stealthy again, with the intention of going back into her bedroom and not coming out until the three voices were back down to only one. Her sister chose that moment to hear her footsteps.
”Mum?” she questioned, before her eyes landed on Lily. Her expression soured in a jiffy. “Oh it’s just you.”
“Just me,” Lily muttered, pressing her lips together awkwardly. She darted her eyes between both girls that sat on each side of Petunia on the couch. “Morning Misty, Shannon.”
Only Misty waved hello, before her hand was slapped back down by Shannon with wide eyes. If Shannon had said something at that moment, it would have been something along the lines of ‘what in the Lord’s name are you doing? Good heavens!’
Lily almost laughed out loud at her own made-up thoughts.
”If you don’t mind,” Petunia spoke again, placing a hand on Shannon’s shoulder as if trying to shield her from Lily, “we’re trying to have normal conversations over here. Nothing you would understand.”
”I wasn’t planning on staying either,” Lily shrugged. “I was going back to my room until Dad came back.”
”What would you need Dad for?”
”The farm.”
”Oh, yes,” Petunia said, looking like she had suddenly found something to humiliate Lily with, “the farm. She helps on the farm, the freak,” she told her friends. “With Dad’s pigs and the chickens. Last time Dad tried to get me to help I got one of my favourite dresses dirty.”
Misty snorted. “Who wears dresses to a farm?”
Both Petunia and Shannon glared at her, which made her shoulders droop along with her smile.
”That’s what I said,” Lily continued. “I will leave you to your super important conversations I wouldn’t understand, your Majesty.” Petunia scowled.
Lily was almost by her bedroom door, when she turned around again.
”Oh and careful. Yesterday I cleaned up the hen house and I might have shaken some cockroaches off my clothes inside the house.”
When Petunia and Shannon started screaming and got up from the couch in horror, Lily opened her bedroom door and slipped inside again, closing it behind her. Naturally she hadn’t done that—she hated cockroaches as well. There couldn’t be anyone in the face of the Earth who liked those evil creatures.
She grabbed her suitcase and placed it on top of her bed, then opened it. Her aunt Carol had told her in one of her letters that she shouldn’t have to worry much about the amount of clothes she packed, since there seemed to be a small village ten minutes from the school and she had offered to buy her anything if she needed it. Lily knew well that that meant her aunt Carol was going to buy her clothes whenever she felt like spoiling her, without her having to ask. And, like always, Lily would love anything she bought for her.
Offer up or not, she originally planned on not packing much, if she would be wearing the school’s uniform most of the time. She packed a few jeans, shorts, shirts and jumpers for when it started being cold. Like in England, it was generally cloudy, rainy and cold in Scotland when autumn arrived. She also, as was anticipated, packed a lot of books. Between the around nineteen she had packed were her current read, a book by Betty Friedan, which she grabbed from her suitcase and opened while throwing herself on her bed.
She was grateful for Petunia and Shannon’s screams having stopped. Even they, in all their vacuous nature, could come to the conclusion that no one would ever enter their house knowing they had cockroaches hanging from their clothes.
Halfway through the tenth chapter, Lily heard a knock on her door.
“Come in,” she said, though a bit confused. If it was Petunia she would have simply barged in.
When no one opened the door and came into her bedroom, Lily immediately knew who it was. There was only one person she knew who didn’t open a door unless it was opened for him. She smiled when she saw her dad.
Ben Evans was the kindest man Yorkshire had ever seen. The world as a whole, Lily would venture to say. God knew such a goodhearted man would change the world with what he had to say, so he was cursed with vocal cord paralysis at birth.
”Good afternoon,” her dad signed with quick hands, slowing down a bit to emphasise on the word ‘afternoon’, matching Lily’s grin.
”Morning,” Lily said with a sheepish smile. “Where do you need help today?”
Ben waved his hand dismissively. “Not much to do. You entertain the dog while I feed the pigs and the cows,” he signed, making faces at the same time.
Lily nodded and grabbed a hat she had hanging on her doorknob. It was unbearably sunny that day and she didn’t want any more freckles on her face.
She headed outside before her dad, careful to not step on any snail or bug by accident. The Evans didn’t have much money, but what they had came from the farm right behind their house. Ben was a charming farmer who sold eggs, dairy, wool, vegetables, fruits, herbs and seeds, all from the farm. Petunia always said that having pigs without the goal of slaughtering them was disgusting, but they were more like pets than anything else by that point. They had three: Robert, Robbie and Robin, all named by the neighbours’ eight-year-old son.
The pet that Petunia approved of was their Labrador, Pepper. Pepper was an energetic dog, hardly three and a half years old. He was brought home by her dad when he was a puppy, having been left on the street by his previous owners. Lily’s mother wasn’t overly delighted by the new addition to the family, protesting about the extra money they would have to spend on ‘the thing’ (her words). Just months later she stopped complaining when she realised Pepper ate whatever Ben gave him from the farm—and he scared off rats, so that was a plus.
Lily opened the fence and clicked her tongue a few times, stepping over the grass. Close to the hen house she could hear barking, getting gradually louder as, she assumed, Pepper got closer. She leaned down when she saw Pepper running towards her, being knocked over by the dog once he jumped to her.
”Oh my— God, Pepper! I washed my hair just yesterday!” she scolded, though she was grinning ear to ear and scratching behind Pepper’s ears. “Now it’s all covered in mud, just like you.”
Lily had a bit of trouble getting back on her feet, for carrying Pepper in her arms wasn’t how it was in the previous years. His weight, size and his constant squirming were very troubling factors. He was not a puppy the size of her forearm any more.
”Dad said only to entertain you,” Lily spoke while walking through the yard. The farmyard had been cleaned by her and her dad the day before, so walking longer was only stepping on puddles and rocks. “It’s a lovely day to run, innit. Though for you of course. I’m not running.”
Walking past the barn while Pepper ran and rolled over the grass in front of her she could hear the horses whining, occasional movement as her dad fed them. The cows were quiet, so that meant they were already eating.
Pepper left a tennis ball at her feet, and she threw it so he could go after it. Even if Four Kings’ was in the Highlands, which was literally just mountains, hills and grass, she was certain she was going to miss the countryside. The farm was something too special for her to not miss it, having grown up learning how to manage it and take good care of all the animals. Lily didn’t know what would happen with the farm once her parents weren’t there, but she hoped to keep it forever and make farming a family thing.
She knew Petunia wouldn’t be a participant in preserving the farm and the house. She had left clear many, many times that as soon as she could she would just marry a rich man and move to the city, probably London or even going overseas to New York, where she had convinced herself she belonged rather than in the country. Lily didn’t judge her sister’s dreams and ambitions, of course, but she wished Petunia didn’t shoot to ‘marry a rich man’ and instead worked to be the rich person she was so desperately hoping for. She was sure that would come faster.
Pepper dropped the tennis ball at her feet again, panting and waiting for her to throw it again. Instead Lily crouched down to give Pepper a hug.
”I’m going to miss you so much,” she said, caressing Pepper’s soft, brown back gently.
Her dad walked out at that moment, squinting in the sun to make sure it was really her he was seeing. There wasn’t much of an option anyway, her mother was out at the moment and Petunia would undoubtedly rather stay inside talking shit about everyone in town with her friends than help on the farm. Lily picked up the tennis ball and got up, threw it, and left Pepper to run and jump around the yard and the hills past it.
“Who will help me when you leave?” her dad signed, with a small, almost sad smile.
”You might have to teach Petunia to milk the cows and clean the pens,” she quipped, with an eyebrow raise.
Ben waved his hand, amused. “Your sister prefers helping your mother in the house rather than getting her hands muddy. I will have to do everything on my own out here.”
Besides the pigs’ pen, Lily kneeled next to the water trough and scrunched up her nose. “Water change?” she asked. Her dad shrugged.
”I changed it yesterday,” he signed. Lily raised her eyebrows.
”Do they drink the water or just throw dirt at it? Christ.”
Just flipping the trough to empty it would leave the earth too sludgy, so she huffed and started for the garage, where the large PVC was stored to empty the trough and refill it. It was hard to open the wooden door, product of the years it had, and all the rainstorms it had endured. Perhaps it needed to be changed.
Inside the garage she searched through the shelves for the PVC, but could only find the short ones. Lily cursed under her breath. She grabbed a bucket and turned it upside down to stand on top of it, so she could reach the top of the shelves. Dust, dead flies, one grasshopper that may or may not have been dead too. She grumbled.
Getting off the bucket, she heard a crinkling sound. The first thing she saw was another grasshopper, this one alive, that was probably what dropped whatever it was that fell to the ground. Lily grabbed it and threw it outside the garage.
Returning inside, she looked to the floor, and saw a green horse headstall. Hanging from its side was a small ID tag. Cinnamon, it read. Lily bent down to grab it. The PVC was on the shelf right in front of her face. She grabbed both.
Lily took the ID tag off and left the headstall back where it was, then walked out and closed the garage’s door behind her. She traced the tag with her thumb, her handwriting when she was nine engraved in it. Back then horse riding was popular around the kids. They liked to see her and Cinnamon, and she liked to show-off. However the hype didn’t last much longer than a year and a few months, after Cinnamon got sick and she wasn’t as fast and agile. Lily swore horse riding was something she was passionate about, something she might even do for a living when she grew older.
She didn’t ride a horse again after Cinnamon passed.
Someone flicked her forehead and brought her back to Earth.
“You found that?” her dad signed. “You want to keep the tag?”
Lily looked down at it once more, then nodded. “Mhm. As a keychain, maybe.”
“There might be horses at that school you’re going to,” he signed.
Lily frowned bemused. “Why would there be horses?”
Her dad rubbed his index, middle finger and thumb together. Money, he wanted to reference.
“Ah.” Lily chortled. “Now that you mention it, it makes sense. Rich people do have a strange obsession with horses.”
“But they won’t clean the stables,” her dad signed before she looked away, making her laugh more.
Lily wouldn’t even do anything if she found out there were indeed horses and a riding club in Four Kings’. She wasn’t sure she could, emotionally speaking. But she would be happy enough to just watch them, maybe even pet them and feed them if she was allowed to. She didn’t even remember how it was done, after six years without riding a horse, and rich people were too ostentatious and competitive to tolerate mistakes or someone struggling to keep up with them. Lily was competitive too, very much so, but these people were in a toxic sense. That would only give her headaches and reasons to yell at everyone all day.
Speaking of headaches and yelling, Petunia and her friends had just come out of the house. It was not like Lily cared, but having her hair muddy and probably smelling of the pigs’ water trough she was emptying, she knew she didn’t do herself a favour to stop Petunia’s distasteful comments.
”Hello, Da!” Petunia chirped, skipping to cling to their dad’s arm. “How’s the farm, Da?” she asked.
Like you care, Lily thought.
Their dad smiled at Petunia and signed that all was good. Petunia’s smile turned into a grimace when she looked at Lily. Or maybe it was the pigs. The disgust on her face was ever-present for both.
”Blegh. Wash your hair,” she said. Lily pursed her lips. So it was her. Petunia being more disgusted by her than by the pigs could have been flattering, even.
”It’s just mud.”
”You’ll have to shave your head one day.” If Lily did that she was sure Petunia would hide all the hats she owned. “And there were no cockroaches in the house, you liar.”
”Of course there were no cockroaches in the house, do you really think I would go into the house with cockroaches on my clothes? Use your brain.”
“I saw a few ants,” Misty chimed in, raising her hand like she was asking for permission to speak.
”It’s summer,” Lily and Petunia both said at the same time. “And we’re in the countryside. Ants are the least of your worries,” Lily added.
”I am mortally afraid of grasshoppers.”
Lily sucked air through her teeth. “Well, Misty, grasshoppers are practically part of the farm animals by now with how many there are hopping around.”
With her eyes wide as saucers she clung to Shannon’s crossed arms. “You’re kidding.”
”Are you sure you’re made to live in the countryside?”
”Absolutely not,” she replied with an adamant shake of her head. “It’s not like I chose to live here. If I could, I would have moved yesterday.”
“Brilliant, Petunia, now you have someone to roommate with when you move to New York or whatever.”
”Oh zip it, will you,” Petunia sneered.
Their dad tapped Petunia’s shoulder, and signed. “New York?”
”Just an idea Da,” she said. “London started to sound boring to me.”
Boring was definitely not the adjective Lily would have used to describe London. Amazing, incredible, astonishing, fascinating were probably closer calls. Lily rolled her eyes. She knew Petunia wasn’t very bright, but preferring the States over England was too stupid of an opinion even for her.
”Maybe I’ll meet Billy Joel there and he’ll fall in love with me,” Petunia continued. “With him I would never have to work.”
”He’s ten years older than you.” Shannon raised an eyebrow.
”Semantics,” Petunia side-eyed her. “Like that’s ever stopped someone. Mum knows a couple that are twenty years apart. Twenty. He’s forty-six and she’s twenty-six,” she explained. “I’m sure Billy Joel will be fine with a ten-year age gap.”
”Well I’m sure he won’t be fine with dating a teenager, will he, now?”
”Well, Lily,” she mocked Lily’s voice, “I’m not saying I’m going to start dating him tomorrow,” Petunia argued. “I mean when I’m an adult. How old do you think I will be when I can afford moving to New York?”
“Thir—“
”Dead. You don’t even want to work, so how will you get money to move anywhere?” Lily cut Misty off.
“Who says I won’t find a rich husband here?”
Lily gave her a look that said “be serious” and blinked at her.
”Yeah, ‘cause there are so many eligible bachelors in Cokeworth. Especially ones that are surely going to be rich in the future.”
”Henry Cooper wants to be a politician.”
”You’re considering that arsehole to be your husband?”
”Jesus, no,” Petunia grimaced in disgust. At least that disgust was not aimed at Lily any more. Or the pigs. “Just pointing out that he might get rich.”
”He bullied my brother last year,” Shannon contributed, frowning. “If he gets successful I will make sure he goes down.”
“I bloody hate him too!” Petunia insisted.
“Silvie Stirling is loaded,” Misty observed.
”Silvie Stirling is a girl,” Shannon addressed, looking at Misty weird, who was still clinging to her arm.
Misty just shrugged.
”I’m not marrying anyone from this goddamned town,” Petunia stated surely. “Everyone here is either an idiot or downright brain-dead.”
Including you, Lily thought.
“Maybe you could search for a husband in Glasgow, with aunt Carol,” said Lily, chiefly sarcastic.
“I’m not getting anywhere near Barmy Carol,” she derogatorily copied the nickname their mother had for their aunt Carol. “I’m sure everyone where she lives is exactly like her.”
”Rich?” Lily raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like what you’re looking for.”
Their dad started signing something to Petunia, but Lily looked away to the house’s entrance before she could catch what he was telling her when she heard a car. Petunia ran there, greeting their mother with a hug. Lily couldn’t hear what they were saying from where she was, and she considered that a good thing.
Petunia had three different personalities: school and friends Petunia, Mummy and Daddy Petunia, and Lily Petunia. The last one should have been the worst, considering it was hostility geared toward her, but no. Mummy and Daddy Petunia was the worst Petunia. Not like there was a “good” Petunia, to start with.
If there was a very good reason to be ecstatic about leaving for Scotland that Saturday, was that she wouldn’t have to see or hear Petunia and her mother. Unless they called, which she highly doubted and would ignore if such a miracle took place anyway. Lily would limit herself to exclusively write letters to her dad, and that would be it. There was no one else in that house that needed, or wanted for that matter, to be updated on how Lily’s life was going.
Misty and Shannon went to meet Petunia where she was helping their mother with grocery bags, and eventually her dad went inside the house after them as well. Lily huffed, grabbing the cleaning brush and neutral soap from the garage to clean the pigs’ water trough so she could refill it with clean water. When she returned to the pen, Pepper was sat next to it.
“At least you are going to miss me.” She smiled and scratched his head.