And yet the years with the Hursts had not been as unhappy as they might have been. Simeon Hurst and his sister had been severe and strict; they had not understood about Leo being Jewish, and they had force-fed him with Christianity. But he had come to understand that this had not done him so ill a turn; it had given him his ability to view religion with a wider lens than he might otherwise have done, and had probably led him to studying philosophy and theology – a study that had proved so rewarding and that had led him to his beloved Oriel College. He sometimes thought that because of the Hursts he had worked hard, and because of that he had managed to get to Oxford. More, he had managed to remain at Oxford, and it became his life and his family.
The years at Willow Bank Farm had settled into a degree of stability. There was school and singing in the choir, and there were school activities and friends. The sad memories of his home began to fade a bit. The other memory of that pain-filled, macabre night at Deadlight Hall did not fade, though; Leo did not think it ever would. He did not think the memory of the twins would ever completely fade, either.
But he liked school and he had liked most of his lessons. The Hursts made sure he did his work diligently and thoroughly, and occasionally handed out a few sparse words of praise. Surprisingly, they never missed attending a school concert or a prize-giving, Simeon wearing his Sunday suit and polished boots, Miss Hurst in a knitted hat and black lace-up shoes. They always sat in the front row, and afterwards talked earnestly to the teachers about Leo’s progress. One year, when rationing was starting to ease, the school offered a cold buffet after its Christmas carol service, with a fruit cup rather daringly flavoured with sherry. It was unfortunate that the headmaster, wanting to be hospitable, and pleased to talk to the guardians of his promising young pupil, poured Miss Hurst several glasses of this, after which, inspired by the carol singers, she began her own rendition of ‘Once in Royal David’s City’, slightly off-key, and had to be helped out to the battered truck which Farmer Hurst drove. She sang ‘We Three Kings’ all the way back to the farm, then collapsed in a bundled heap in a fireside chair and smiled foolishly at the plate of stew which had been simmering on the stove while they were out.
After that night, Leo had usually managed to steer her away from any alcoholic beverage that was on offer, although it was sometimes difficult, because Miss Hurst made her own elderflower and parsnip wines, which she liked to bring out for visitors. Sometimes, if the vicar called, she became quite bright-eyed and giggly, and said, ‘Oh, Vicar, the things you say.’ Leo thought Farmer Hurst did not like to see his sister being giggly and prodding the vicar with a pretend-stern finger. If the vicar’s sister was there, she always folded her lips tightly like a drawstring purse.
Simeon and Mildred Hurst both said Leo must continue to study hard. Simeon said if God had given Leo the gift of intelligence Leo must be sure to make use of it.
Occasionally they talked about their disgraceful ancestor.
‘A wastrel,’ said Simeon. ‘And he lost us a lot of money.’
‘And land,’ chimed in Miss Hurst. ‘Don’t forget the land.’
‘I don’t forget the land, Mildred, I’ve never forgotten the land. We don’t covet our neighbour’s goods, of course, Leo, and a man cannot serve God and Mammon both—’
‘But that land was once Hurst land and rightfully this family’s,’ put in Miss Hurst, firmly. ‘Our ancestor sold a large piece of land all those years ago,’ she told Leo, by way of explanation. ‘To pay his debts, so we’ve always understood. Women, mostly.’
‘And drink.’
‘Yes, that, too, and woe unto them that rise up early in the morning that they may follow strong drink,’ said Miss Hurst, putting a half-empty bottle of parsnip wine back in its cupboard.
‘He squandered his substance and sold his birthright for a mess of pottage,’ said Simeon. ‘So think on, young man, think on, and avoid suchlike temptations.’
Leo said he would think on, although he did not really know what Simeon meant. But shortly after his twelfth birthday, it appeared that the Hursts now had a chance of regaining the land so wantonly sold by their forbear.
‘A reasonable price they’re asking,’ said Simeon. ‘I don’t know but what we mightn’t manage it, Mildred.’