“So – how long are you four staying in Devon?”
“We can’t stay long,” Hannah said quickly, refusing to meet his eye. “Jo and Kate have got to get back to work and I’ve got an essay to do before term begins.” Forced, albeit temporarily, to abandon her attempts to seduce Daniel she could hardly wait to get back to London.
“You’ll be here tomorrow at least?” Daniel’s smile embraced all four girls. “Aidan and I were hoping you’d spend the day in Westermouth with us. I could give you lunch at my flat, maybe, then we could have a stroll around town before going on to Aidan’s for the evening.” He looked at Beth. “You’d like Aidan’s house – the garden stretches down to the river and he keeps his canoe there.”
“I know – Kate told me. I’d love to see it – we can go, can’t we?”
Jo looked at Kate. For herself, she didn’t care either way. Aidan’s pursuit of her, though tiresome, was easy to deflect, but she suspected that the hurt he had unwittingly inflicted upon Kate was less easily diverted.
Kate looked at Hannah. Her normal exuberance had gone and she seemed uncharacteristically deflated. Something upsetting must have happened between herself and Daniel while they were out in the garden – another failed seduction scene no doubt.
“Pleeease...”
Whatever they may have felt, it was impossible to withstand Beth’s pleading eyes.
“We’d love to – thanks. But we’ll have to go back to London the day after.”
“That’s settled then.” Aidan stood up and stretched. “And now, I think, it’s time to open the presents.”
o0o
They trooped back to the sitting room and sank down on to the vast settees which surrounded the fireplace on three sides. Out of the corner of her eye Kate saw Beth slip silently from the room. She caught up with her in the hall.
“Are you OK?” She put her arm around the girl’s frail shoulders and felt them give a convulsive heave.
“I’m sorry.” Beth fumbled in the pocket of her skimpy brown dress for a handkerchief. “It’s just that I feel so happy, and that makes me feel guilty. It’s the first Christmas since Mum died – I’ve got no right to feel happy.”
“Of course you have – you have every right – and I’m sure your mother would have been the first person to tell you that. Do you think she would have wanted you to be unhappy?”
“No, of course not. But it’s how I think I should feel.”
“We very rarely feel the way we think we should feel. Feelings have a habit of overriding thoughts somehow. It’s the first Christmas since my mother died too – and I hadn’t expected to feel happy either.”
“But you do?”
Kate nodded, hoping that God would forgive her the white lie. “I’m usually happy when I’m at Downlands or Cockle Cottage. There’s a magic about them somehow.”
Beth gave a watery smile. “Yes, there is. And I feel better knowing that you feel happy when you shouldn’t too.”
“We’re a right couple of guilt-ridden hedonists, aren’t we?” Kate laughed. “Now, come and enjoy your presents.”
George emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray of tea and mince pies and they followed him back into the sitting room. He set the tray down on a low table in front of the fire.
“Now you just help yourselves while I sort out the parcels.”
Hannah gave a wry smile. “It’s his legal mind you see – he never trusts anyone else to give the right present to the right person.”
“I seem to remember that last time you took on the job your mother ended up with a pair of Y-fronts.”
“Well, you know what Aidan’s writing’s like...”
“I certainly do; we work together, remember? And I’ve never had the slightest difficulty in reading it.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Aidan gave his sister a smug look. “May I suggest that we start with our guests? Perhaps you’d like to give Beth her presents first.”
As his father fetched the gifts from beneath the tree, Aidan went over to the record player. Soon the stirring strains of Scheherazade filled the room, banishing any tension which remained. Beth’s eyes widened in anticipation as the pile of presents in front of her began to mount.
“Not all for me, surely?”
Jo laughed at her expression. “It looks like it – you’d better start unwrapping.”
Beth leaned forward to choose her first present, her hair falling forward to obscure her face. She shook it back impatiently.
“Oh!” Her exclamation of delight brought a smile to all their faces. “They’re simply gorgeous.” She let the paper fall to the floor and shook out the dark brown pair of soft corduroy trousers, which matched exactly the colour of her hair.
“This next.” Jo extracted a parcel from the bottom of the pile. “I think you’ll find they go together rather well.”
Excitedly, Beth tore away the wrapping to reveal a warm turtleneck jumper in rich autumnal shades. Her face glowed with pleasure. She looked at the label and beamed at George and Mary. “Thank you so much, they’re exactly what I wanted.”
“These too, I hope.” One by one Jo handed her the parcels which revealed a warm winter coat in camel, a dark green pinafore dress, a cream blouse in soft cotton and a pale green ribbed jumper.
“I don’t know what to say.” Beth looked from one face to another. “You’ve all been so generous.”
“And I thought you might like this for special occasions.” Jo handed her the final package. The deep cherry-red jersey dress with its pretty lace collar which emerged from the wrapping paper reduced Beth to a stunned silence.
For a moment Kate thought the girl was going to burst into tears, but then a radiant smile spread across her face. “Can I go and put it on? Christmas Day is rather a special occasion, isn’t it?”
Hannah smiled. “Of course you can, I’ll take you up to my bedroom to change.”
At the door Beth turned, her face serious now. “I can’t thank you all enough. This really is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
On Boxing Day, Kate awoke feeling bleary-eyed and over-full from the excesses of the previous day. Her body yearned for exercise. The prospect of lunch at Daniel’s flat followed by dinner at Aidan’s made her stomach groan. She sat up and twitched back the curtain. On the far bank of the river two boys in bright red anoraks were skimming stones across the water, their voices sharp and clear in the winter air, and she caught the gleam of frost on an upturned canoe.
In the bed on the other side of the room Hannah stirred, groaned, then burrowed down beneath the covers.
“Hannah, wake up!”
“Wassit?”
“It’s just after nine and it’s a glorious day out there.”
“So? We don’t have to be at Daniel’s till lunchtime.”
“You can’t possibly eat lunch and dinner without having had any exercise – not after yesterday.”
“Watch me.” Hannah rolled over and curled into a ball. “Go back to sleep, Kate.”
Kate flung back the blankets and thrust her feet into a pair of fleecy slippers. She pulled her warm woollen dressing gown over her nightie and crouched down beside her friend’s bed. A pair of outraged green eyes glared back at her.
“A walk on the moors would be wonderful.”
“You must be joking! It’s freezing out there.”
“It’s not freezing at all – it’s cold and crisp and absolutely clear. Think of the views you’d get from Buckden Tor. And think how Beth would love it. She’s never seen the moors, and we go back to London tomorrow. This morning’s our last chance.”
The bedclothes heaved and Hannah propped herself up on one elbow.
“All right, you win. But only if you promise to get me a cup of tea and mak
e the breakfast.”
“Breakfast? How can you possibly eat more than a bowl of cereal after yesterday?”
“A boiled egg and some toast would be nice. As well as the cereal of course.”
Kate sighed. “Well, don’t blame me if your zip gets stuck.”
“I won’t.” Hannah snuggled down again. “I’ll just have a doze until the tea arrives.”
o0o
A silvery green Buckden Tor rose out of the moorland to greet them as Kate parked Sooty in the lay-by beside the bridge.
“Is that snow on top?” Beth emerged from the car and hopped from one foot to the other to keep warm.
“Just a smattering. There hasn’t been any for over a week now, but it often hangs around on top of the tors.” Kate pulled her mock-fur Cossack hat firmly down over her ears.
“What a wonderful bridge!” Jo paused to extract her camera from her shoulder bag. “I’ve never seen one like it before.”
“It’s called a clapper bridge. In the old days, teams of packhorses would use it to carry tin or whatever across the river.” Hannah gazed at the vast moorstone slabs, supported by granite buttresses and piers which spanned the water. “I used to enjoy sketching it when I was a child.”
“I didn’t know you were an arty type.”
Hannah laughed. “You accused me once of having no sense of colour – that really hurt, I can tell you. I love experimenting – especially with clothes – trying out various shades that aren’t normally used together.”
“She’s an excellent artist, Jo. You should have seen the stuff she turned out for A level. No wonder she got an A grade.”
“It’s just a pity that the rest were Ds.” Hannah’s voice was wistful. “A couple of grades higher and I’d have had three years at a decent university, not a crummy poly.”
Kate groaned. “Don’t start on that tack again. I can’t stand it.”
“Why didn’t you consider art school?”
Hannah shrugged. “It’s the Quaker thing really. I felt it wasn’t a worthy enough ambition – that people would expect me to be aiming at something rather more socially useful.”
“Perhaps you’d have been happier if you’d followed your heart rather than your head?”
“I’m sure I would have been in the short term, but then I’d probably have ended up having to go into teaching – and I’d have hated that.”
Kate laughed. “So would the kids! At least it’s something you can always do in your spare time. And you have sold quite a few of your paintings over the years.”
Fumbling in the depths of her coat pocket, Hannah drew out a small sketch pad and pencil. Her face brightened. “Perhaps I’ll just stay here and have another go at the bridge. You go on without me.”
“Certainly not!” Kate linked her arm through her friend’s. “You need the exercise just as much as the rest of us. Besides, you know these moors better than we do. We need you with us in case the mist comes down.”
“Mist, my foot! That’s the bluest sky I’ve seen for a long time. You’re just a bully – that’s your problem.”
They crossed the bridge in single file and struck out across the moor. The deep silence of the winter landscape enveloped them and gradually their conversation died away.
Kate, relishing the frosty crunch of the grass beneath her feet, was thinking about Aidan. All through Christmas Day she had longed for him to notice her, to make some special remark which was meant for her alone. But none had come. Aidan had been his usual friendly self, treating everyone just the same. Once, at dinner, she had seen him looking at Jo but, catching Kate’s eyes upon him, he had smiled and glanced away. The prospect of returning to London, of continuing to keep her unrequited love for him a secret, filled her with dread. Please God, she prayed, make him love me.
Hannah was thinking about Daniel. It was obvious that her absence in London had done nothing to diminish his feelings for her. And, for her part, Daniel’s maturity, not to mention his humour, had come as a welcome relief after the earnestness of her fellow students. Kate had been right. So used had she become to going out with a man five years her senior, that anyone her own age was bound to seem shallow and boring. Her thoughts turned to London and Southbridge Poly. Surely there must be some footloose and fancy-free lecturer with whom she could enjoy some fun in the months to come.
Jo stared up at the gorse-speckled slopes of Buckden Tor and sighed. What anyone saw in these wild and windswept places was beyond her. Left to her own devices she would have preferred to stay in the car with a good book, but one look at Beth – warmly dressed for the walk in her new corduroy trousers and autumnal jumper – had persuaded her otherwise. It was worth the effort just to see the expression of pure happiness and wonder on her sister’s face. These past few days had been a revelation to her. Once in Cocklecombe, Beth had opened up like a flower warmed by the sun. The tangy salt-laden air had brought a glow to her cheeks and invested her with an energy which was almost tangible. It was as if she had been elevated on to another plane. Though naturally quiet, she had lost that paralysing shyness which usually made social encounters such a torture to her. Kate, and Aidan,in particular, had succeeded in drawing her out and Jo was grateful. She had been mother, father, sister and guardian to Beth since their mother’s death and it was good to feel some of that emotional burden lift from her shoulders.
Kate, several paces ahead on the narrow grassy path which wound through the bracken, turned around.
“You look lovely in that hat. Red really suits you.”
Jo smiled. The matching hat, scarf and gloves which had been Kate and Hannah’s Christmas gift to her, both looked and felt deliciously warm and lent a splash of colour to her otherwise sombre clothes.
“You’ll make a scarlet woman of me yet.” She regretted the flip remark immediately. Painfully aware of Kate’s feelings for Aidan, she had done her best to ignore his attempts to catch her eye throughout the previous day, but she knew that Kate’s suspicions were aroused. Once they were back in London, and she could speak to her alone, she intended to make it clear that Hannah’s brother held no attraction for her whatsoever. Whether or not Aidan had any feelings for Kate, only time would tell. Certainly his behaviour this Christmas would give her no cause for optimism, but things might change. For her friend’s sake Jo hoped so. To marry Aidan, to be able to spend the rest of her life in her beloved Devon, with the Mathesons nearby, must be Kate’s idea of Utopia.
A Dartmoor pony whinnied at them from behind a drystone wall. Beth looked at him longingly.
“I wish we’d brought some carrots with us.”
Hannah turned around. “It’s not a good idea to feed them – they’re wild, you see. If they get too used to humans giving them food, they start to gather near the roadside and then they risk getting killed by the traffic.”
“How awful!”
“Never mind – I know Hunky and Dory appreciated your attentions yesterday.”
“They’re gorgeous! I could have spent all day with them.”
“Next time, maybe you can.”
“Next time? Can we come and stay here again then?”
The eagerness in Beth’s voice was unmistakable.
“Why not?” Hannah paused for breath before tackling the final uphill stretch to the top of the tor. “I’ll be spending most of my holidays in Devon while I’m at college – since I can’t afford anywhere more exotic – and Kate’s been coming down two or three times a year for ages. I’m sure my parents would be only too happy to let us all use Cockle Cottage if you and Jo’d like to join us any time.”
“Really?” Beth’s eyes were shining. “That’d be absolutely wonderful! I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.”
Hannah lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You’d be doing me a favour, actually. If there’s just myself, or me and Kate, we
’d have to stay at Downlands with my parents, and – much as I love them – it’s a bit restricting. If there’s four of us, we’d have to use the cottage, and then we’re all free to do as we want.”
“Did you hear that, Jo? We’d be doing Hannah a favour if we came again. So we can come, can’t we? Oh, do say we can. Pleeeease.”
Jo hesitated. She didn’t want to take advantage of the Mathesons’ generosity, nor was she sufficiently enamoured of the countryside to want to spend too much of her precious holiday time in it. On the other hand, she couldn’t afford to take Beth away anywhere herself and – since her sister had obviously fallen in love with Devon, the Matheson family and country life in general – she didn’t have the heart to refuse her.
She turned to Hannah. “We’d love to – if you’re sure your parents wouldn’t mind us coming again. It’s lovely for Beth and me to be able to spend some time together.”
Hannah grinned. “It’s a good idea for all of us – I get the freedom of Cockle Cottage rather than Downlands, and you’re saved the hassle of finding somewhere to have a holiday with Beth. As for Kate – well, I expect you’d be coming down to Devon with me anyway, wouldn’t you?”
Kate forced a smile. Just at that moment Devon was the last place on earth that she wanted to be and the prospect of spending holiday after holiday watching her beloved Aidan flirting with Jo was more than she could bear.
“Probably,” she agreed weakly.
Jo sensed the reluctance in her tone and knew the reason why. The sooner she could clear the air with Kate the better. And if Aidan persisted in making advances to her, despite her rebuffs, she would have to let him know in no uncertain terms that she was absolutely, definitely, once and for all – not interested.
“That’s settled then.” Hannah bounded up the last few yards to the top of the tor and collapsed panting, onto the granite boulder which marked the summit. “I’ll ask my parents to keep Cockle Cottage free for us for Easter, then again in the summer for a few weeks.”
Onwards Flows the River Page 15