Onwards Flows the River

by Caroline Windsor

  “You don’t have to.”

  He looked down at her upturned face with its wide sensuous mouth and determined chin and smiled.

  “Oh, I do, Hannah, believe me I do.”

  o0o

  Alone in the cottage, Jo fetched her book from the bedroom and curled up in the deep armchair beside the fire. She sat for a few minutes, the book unopened on her lap, luxuriating in her solitude. Accustomed to spending a fair proportion of her time alone, the constant companionship of the past two days had proved quite a challenge. However fond she was of people, she decided, she would always find it necessary – for her own sanity – to be able to spend several hours of each day alone.

  Lost in her book, she jumped when the door opened and Aidan strode in.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t. I just wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

  Aidan slung his overcoat on the hook by the door.

  “I don’t take Communion you see, so I thought I’d come back to make sure you were OK.”

  “What did you think might have happened to me?” She heard the irritation in her tone and cursed herself. The cottage belonged to his family – he had every right to come and go as he pleased. She drew her legs up beneath her and hugged her knees.

  He gave her a sharp look. “Oh, who knows? A bomb through the window maybe – or the odd volcanic eruption.”

  He spoke the words lightly, but she knew she had upset him.

  “It was very considerate of you.”

  “No it wasn’t. You were enjoying the peace and quiet, weren’t you? And now I’ve come back and spoilt it for you.”

  Jo relaxed slightly. “You did it for the best of motives.”

  Aidan went over to the drinks cupboard. “Can I get you a nightcap? Whisky maybe, or brandy?”

  “Thanks – but I’m teetotal. A bitter lemon would be nice though.” She saw the surprise on his face. “My father was an alcoholic, you see. I thought Hannah might have mentioned it.”

  “No, she didn’t.” Aidan set the glasses down on the coffee table. “That must have been hard for you.”

  “It was pretty grim, but it’s all behind me now. I don’t intend to make a career out of my unhappy childhood like some people do – you’ve got to go on and make your own life, that’s what I believe.”

  Aidan sipped his brandy. “You’re absolutely right, of course. Though believing is sometimes simpler than doing. It’s not always so easy to let go of an unhappy past.”

  “I take it you’re not speaking from experience.”

  Her sarcasm brought a faint flush to his cheeks.

  “Experience, yes – but not personal experience.” His grey-green eyes met hers candidly. “As you can see, I was fortunate enough to be born into a family that was both happy and comfortably off. I’ve never wanted for anything. But every day in my work I see kids from God-awful backgrounds who’ve ended up in a life of crime... women who’ve suffered years of mental and physical abuse in marriage who are trying, and not always succeeding, to put the past behind them.”

  “You really care about your work, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do – I couldn’t do it otherwise.”

  “That’s what I want to do eventually – something that really means something to me, something that’ll make a difference to other people’s lives.”

  “Social work? Medicine?”

  “Some form of social work possibly – but not medicine. If I’m going to go on to do a degree after A levels it’ll have to be something I can study part-time. I need to go on earning a living so that I can help Beth.”

  She saw his face soften. “Ah, Beth. She’s a very special girl, your sister.”

  “She is – and she’s suffered enough in her life to make me determined to give her as much happiness as I can.”

  Aidan leaned over and took the book from the arm of her chair.

  “Sons and Lovers – I know it well. Is this one of your A level texts?”

  She nodded. “Lawrence is a bit too keen on what he calls ‘soul communion’ between men and women for my liking. Speaking as an atheist, of course.”

  She saw the surprise in his eyes. “You don’t even believe in the soul then?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure what you mean by the soul – unless it’s just a higher compartment of the mind. I certainly don’t believe in all this mystic communion business – it’s just a load of rubbish.”

  “So men and women can only communicate on a mental and physical level?”

  “I think so, yes. If Lawrence had concentrated more on his women’s bodies, and less on what he calls their souls, he might have got on with them better.”

  Aidan burst out laughing. “You’re so cynical! I can’t believe you really mean what you say.”

  “Trust me – I do.”

  He flicked through the pages of the book. “Actually, it was reading Sons and Lovers that made me wonder if I’d ever have the courage to get married. Lawrence’s women all seem so possessive, so determined to choke the life out of their men, it made me wonder if he was right.”

  “That all women are clinging vines, you mean?”

  He nodded. “I can’t imagine having someone who always wants to be with you – never being able to be alone. It must be dreadful.”

  “Well, I, for one, am no clinging vine I can assure you. And I can’t imagine ever wanting to get married either. Like you, I enjoy my own company too much to want some man around all the time. Come to that, I’m too busy to want one around even part of the time.”

  Though she spoke partly in jest she saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes and cursed silently. He was obviously attracted to her – she had felt that instinctively the previous evening. All that business about coming back from church early to make sure she was all right was just rubbish. He was a man like other men – all he probably wanted was to get her between the sheets at the earliest opportunity. Defensively she crossed her legs and folded her arms, closing her body against him. Aidan, she was sure, was subtle enough to be able to read her body language and back off. She had enough problems in her life at the moment – the last thing she needed was a lovesick swain hanging around.

  o0o

  Despite Beth’s presence, Kate felt distinctly lonely as the two of them strolled back along the narrow road which led from the church to the village. It was only natural that Hannah should want to spend some time alone with Daniel even if, as she laughingly put it, he was only one string on her bow. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but feel excluded from their intimacy.

  Her thoughts turned to Aidan and a coldness settled about her heart. He had fallen for Jo – she was sure of it. She had seen the way he had looked at her the previous evening and his behaviour in church had merely confirmed her fears. And even if Beth was right, and Jo had no particular interest in him, that didn’t mean that, with a little persuasion, she wouldn’t change her mind.

  “Here we are at last.” Beth stopped in front of the cottage.

  Feeling sick to her stomach Kate pushed the door open and followed Beth inside.

  “Hi, we’re back!” Her emotional antennae reached out to sense the atmosphere. Aidan, leaning back in his chair, nursing his brandy, was looking thoughtful while Jo herself seemed tense. The silence in the room was palpable. It felt as if she and Beth had interrupted some sort of disagreement. Maybe Beth had been right after all. Relief overwhelmed her, defeatism was replaced by a renewed determination. Tomorrow was Christmas Day – a time to dress up, to sparkle and be happy. A time, she vowed, to make Aidan sit up and take notice of her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “You do look marvellous in that dress, you know.” Hannah sat up in bed and clasped her hands around her knees. “If I wore something like that I�
�d be tripping over the hem all the time.”

  Kate laughed. It was only the second time she had worn the dress and – studying herself in the mirror – she was delighted at how well the deep pinks and purples of the exotically patterned material suited her. With its high stand-up collar and long sleeves the dress managed to be both respectable and seductive.

  “You don’t think a long dress is a bit over the top for Christmas Day lunch at Downlands?”

  Hannah shrugged. “It’s only brushed cotton – it’s not as if it’s velvet or something really eveningy. Anyway, you know what my parents are like – they wouldn’t care if you turned up in jeans and a tee shirt. Come to that, they probably wouldn’t notice if you arrived in a bikini.”

  Kate picked up her hairbrush. Carefully she swept back her blonde hair, confining the luxuriant waves in an elegant French roll. A pair of gold hoop earrings completed the ensemble and she turned to her friend.

  “So, how do I look?”

  Hannah wiped the sleepy dust from her eyes and yawned hugely. “Great, fantastic... who are you trying to impress?”

  Kate felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “Nobody. Why, is that what it looks like?”

  Hannah saw the anxiety in her face and wondered, not for the first time, if her friend wasn’t a bit keen on Aidan after all. She’d teased her occasionally over the years, but Kate had always staunchly denied it and Hannah had had no real reason to disbelieve her. Anyway, who could possibly fancy Aidan? He was passably good-looking, it was true, but that temper, not to mention those exacting moral standards would surely be enough to put off any girl.

  “No, of course not, you idiot. You look fantastic. You’ll make my black trousers and green silk blouse seem positively boring.”

  Kate hesitated, remembering her mother’s oft repeated aphorism that it was better to be underdressed than overdressed.

  “I wonder what Jo’ll be wearing.”

  “Her smart trousers or her dress, I imagine.” Hannah pushed back the bedclothes and swung her feet on to the floor. “Whatever she wears, I can guarantee you one thing. It’ll be black.”

  o0o

  As Kate steered Sooty round the final bend in the twisting, treelined drive which led to Downlands, she heard Beth’s sharp intake of breath.

  “What an amazing house! I’d no idea it’d be so grand.”

  Hannah laughed. “It looks impressive from the outside, I agree. But I can assure you there’s nothing grand about the inside. No chandeliers, no timbered minstrel gallery... just a lot of threadbare carpets and some rather battered furniture. It’s all very homely, you’ll see.”

  Kate pulled into the gap between Aidan’s battered green Land Rover and Daniel’s red Triumph Spitfire and switched off the engine. She looked up at the rambling white house, its facade clothed in ivy and Virginia creeper, and smiled. Just being there made her feel happy. As she watched, the front door opened and Daniel – immaculate as always in grey flannel trousers, light blue shirt and navy blazer – came out to greet them. He glanced at his watch.

  “Midday exactly – just as you said. I must say I’m impressed, Kate. I didn’t think you’d manage to get Hannah out of bed until at least two!”

  “She wouldn’t have done if you’d been in it with me,” Hannah murmured as she lifted her face for a kiss.

  “Come and have some coffee; your mother’s just made a pot.” Daniel ignored her remark. “I was just about to have one – I’ve not long arrived myself.”

  They followed him into the hallway and Kate took their coats and hung them on the old-fashioned wooden coat rack which stood inside the front door. How she loved the house – its wide oak staircase sweeping up from the hallway, the spacious kitchen which always smelled of freshly baked cakes and, perhaps most of all, the vast sitting room with its views up to the moors, where the family would gather around the log fire of a winter’s evening.

  She followed the others into the room now, where Daniel had set out the coffee and biscuits on the table beneath the window. She glanced at Beth and smiled. Wide-eyed in amazement the girl was gazing at the Christmas tree which stood, its tip almost reaching the ceiling, in the corner by the fireplace. Beneath the tree stood eight brightly-wrapped piles of presents.

  “Wonderful, isn’t it? I’ve never known anyone who can decorate a tree as well as Mary.”

  “It’s the best tree I’ve ever seen.”

  “Yes, she’s an excellent artist in more ways than one. You’ll see a lot of her watercolours around the house and she does tapestry work too. Last year she re-covered all the dining room chairs. And just wait till you taste her cooking!”

  As she spoke, Mary appeared in the doorway, her face pink with heat from the kitchen, her soft fair hair standing out in a halo. She greeted them all with a kiss and Kate couldn’t help but notice Beth’s pleasure as she found herself enfolded in Mary’s motherly embrace. Having to grow up without a mother to kiss and cuddle her must seem particularly hard to such a warm, tactile creature. She was, Kate reflected, so utterly different from her sister.

  “Yes – do help yourselves to coffee everyone. Lunch won’t be ready for an hour or so.”

  Aidan appeared in the doorway, a jug of apple juice in one hand, a carton of fresh orange juice in the other and a bottle of wine under each arm. His dark green cable knit jumper, Kate noticed, had a hole in one elbow and there was a distinct grass stain on the left leg of his brown corduroy trousers. He looked comfortable and at home and she immediately felt overdressed.

  “Hello everyone. Where shall I put the drinks, Mother? In the dining room?”

  “Yes do, darling. On the sideboard, please.”

  “I was going down to feed the donkeys in a minute.” Aidan’s slightly sardonic smile embraced them all before coming to rest on Beth. “Anyone like to come with me?”

  “Donkeys? You actually keep donkeys?” Beth’s face lit up.

  “Well, only two of them. Hunky and Dory came from the sanctuary down along the coast. They’re great characters – we’ve had them five years now.”

  “I’d love to see them.” Beth glanced at her sister. “You will come, won’t you, Jo?”

  “Let’s all go.” Hannah set down her cup. “I could do with a breath of fresh air before lunch. And we’ve got boots of all sizes if anyone needs them in the hall cupboard.”

  Kate looked down at her flimsy black patent leather shoes. She could hardly wear them to traipse down through the meadow and wellington boots under a long dress would make her look idiotic. What on earth had possessed her to wear the thing?

  Aidan caught her eye. “You’re not exactly dressed for the great outdoors, Kate. Perhaps you’d rather not come.”

  Kate’s heart sank. He obviously couldn’t care less whether she went or not. All her efforts to make the most of her appearance had been a complete waste of time. Her pleasure in the dress vanished instantly and she vowed to take it in to the next Oxfam shop that she passed.

  Mary came to her rescue. “I think you look absolutely gorgeous, Kate. I’ve never seen you in anything that suited you so well. But, if you’d rather not risk the mud, I’d be glad of a hand with the veg – and the chance for a chat of course.”

  Scraping together the tattered remnants of her pride, Kate gave her a grateful smile.

  “Yes, of course, that would be lovely.”

  o0o

  Potato in one hand and vegetable knife in the other, Kate stood at the kitchen sink. Through the window, she watched her friends as they wended their way slowly through the garden, pausing now and then to admire the yellow blossom on the winter jasmine or the flush of red berries on the holly. Hannah and Daniel were ahead of the others, seemingly deep in conversation, and she saw Hannah slide her arm through his and draw him close. Idly Kate wondered if her friend would succeed in her efforts to lure Daniel in
to her bed. If not, it would hardly be for want of trying. She knew how desperate Hannah was for a proper physical relationship with Daniel – and wondered for the umpteenth time why he continued to refuse her. Most men, faced with a woman as attractive and obviously passionate as Hannah, would be unable to resist. Even if he was doing it for what he considered to be her own good, it would be a disaster if his persistent rejection only succeeded in driving her into the arms of someone far less suitable. Even as a child, she reflected, Hannah had always been demonstrative in her affections, hugging and kissing her friends in an exuberance of emotion to which Kate herself was a stranger.

  She sighed. At least Hannah was lucky enough to have a boyfriend – even if he wouldn’t take the relationship as far as she wanted. As for herself, she never seemed to get past first base – at least with Aidan – and Aidan, after all, was the only man she had ever really wanted.

  Aidan, Jo and Beth were walking side by side through the rose garden, Beth in the middle. As she watched, she saw Aidan turn to the girl, touch her lightly on the shoulder and point to something in the distance. Her own shoulder tingled in sympathy. Jo turned to him and she saw her laugh in response to some remark of Aidan’s.

  “Damn!” The knife slipped and she saw that the potato in her left hand was tinged with pink.

  “I should have given you the peeler. That knife’s always been tricky.”Mary clucked around her, holding her finger under the cold tap before drying it with kitchen towel and securing a waterproof plaster around it.

  A tear slid slowly down Kate’s cheek, rolled off her chin and landed on Mary’s hand.

  “Kate – my dear girl – you’re crying!”

  Kate gave a long, dry, heaving sob and buried her face in Mary’s shoulder. Mary held her, rocking her to and fro as if she were a child again. It was infinitely soothing.

  “It’s Aidan, isn’t it?”

  Startled, Kate looked up. “How did you know?”

  “Darling girl, I’ve known you since you were eleven. I’d have to be pretty unobservant not to know.”