“I’m far more of a solitary creature than you are, that’s for sure. I’ve hardly ever known you to spend an evening alone. If you’re not down at the sailing club, you’re at the rugby club – and failing both of those you generally wind up in the pub.”
He led them down the short flight of steps which connected the old red-brick patio to a semicircular sweep of lawn on the terrace below. A deep border of densely packed shrubs on either side of the lawn afforded total privacy from his neighbours. A wooden seat, carefully angled to afford the best possible view of the river, stood to one side. “This is where I come when I want a bit of peace and quiet. It’s a lovely spot on a moonlit night.”
Kate imagined him, brandy glass in hand, stepping out onto the patio on a summer’s evening for a breath of fresh air before bedtime. Alone, he would stand for a few minutes, gazing out across the river, before strolling down to the seat. Save for the hoot of an owl or the gentle lap of the water against the landing stage, all would be silent. Then she visualised herself beside him. Together they would take a turn around the garden, planning a rosebush here, a cherry tree to fill the gap beside the hedge, a sweep of springtime croci to be planted in the lawn. They would wander down to check the mooring ropes on the dinghy, and stand for a moment on the wooden landing stage, enjoying the salty breeze borne in from the sea.
“Are you coming, Kate?” Hannah’s voice wafted up to her from two terraces below.
With a start Kate realised that she hadn’t even noticed she had been left behind, so lost had she been in her daydream. “Coming.”
She walked on down another flight of steps to the terrace below. To the left of the path a vegetable garden had been laid out, to the right a large fruit cage stood against the hedge, an apple and a pear tree on either side. Aidan’s fondness for fresh home-grown fruit and vegetables was legendary and Kate knew from the amount of time and effort which he must have put into the place, that this was a house he intended to live in for a long time to come. She hurried on down the final flight of steps to join her friends on the small jetty.
“I keep my bike in the shed over there,” she heard Aidan say. “Most days I cycle to work and back along the towpath. It keeps me fit and it’s a great way to unwind at the end of the day.”
Beth was admiring the canoe, upturned on the bank in its winter resting place.
“Will you teach me how to row when we come down at Easter?” she begged Aidan.
Over the top of her head, Aidan caught Jo’s eye. He gave her an enquiring look.
“It was Hannah’s suggestion,” she said defensively. “She thought we could all come down to Cockle Cottage again – if it was all right with your parents, of course.”
“I’m sure they’d be delighted. I think it’s a great idea.” She saw the gleam in his eye and cursed silently. The thought of having to spend the Easter holiday fending off his unwelcome advances made her feel infinitely weary. She yawned.
“I’ll go on back to the house if you don’t mind. I’m getting cold out here.”
“Feel free to have a look around if you like – we won’t be long.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Hugging her coat around her, Jo ran up the steps.
Alone in the house, she kicked off her shoes and wandered through to the kitchen. A pine table, laid for six, stood at one end. Like Daniel’s, the room was clean and well-organised. A shelf of cookery books hung on the wall beside the window and one well-thumbed volume lay open on the work surface. Jo glanced at the page. Spaghetti bolognese – so that’s what they’d be having for dinner. An over-cautious choice perhaps, but at least he hadn’t resorted to a takeaway.
She went back into the sitting room and stood by the fire for a few moments warming her hands. Despite herself she was impressed by the house. Though less tidy and more lived-in than Daniel’s flat, it was equally revealing of its owner. Aidan, it seemed, had a good eye for antiques. A glass-fronted walnut bookcase stood against one wall, a small highly-polished rosewood table bearing a pair of silver candlesticks and an oriental vase, beside it. Against the other three walls stood long settees upholstered in creamy beige; apple-green cushions – a shade darker than the walls – were scattered over them. A coffee table in the centre of the room contained various legal and sporting magazines and a radio. There was, she noticed, no television. She left the room and padded down the corridor. Aidan’s study door was slightly ajar – she pushed it open and went inside. Though smaller than the sitting room, she could tell instantly that this was where he spent most of his time. Two of the walls were lined from floor to ceiling with books, carefully arranged according to subject matter. The range was impressive. There were books on the law, sociology, psychology, sailing, gardening and four whole shelves devoted to philosophy and theology. Beneath the window – looking out across the garden to the river – stood a large oak desk, littered with papers. It was the room of a man who was used to spending time alone – and who, moreover, was capable of enjoying it. She had to respect him for that, if nothing else.
Through the window she saw the others slowly wending their way up through the garden. Aidan had his hand on Beth’s shoulder and, as she watched, she saw her sister throw back her head and laugh uproariously at something he said. It was so good to see Beth really enjoying herself once again – Jo would sacrifice a good deal for the pleasure of seeing a happy expression on that shy, sensitive face.
o0o
“That was an excellent meal, Aidan.” Daniel drained the last dregs of his glass of red wine.
Aidan laughed. “You’ve tasted my spag bol often enough before. I’d have thought you’d have been tired of it.”
Kate was intrigued. “Do you two often cook for one another then?”
“Indeed we do – I’d go so far as to say we had things down to a fine art. Aidan cooks the evening meal for both of us on Mondays and Wednesdays, and Tuesdays and Thursdays I do the same for him at my place.”
“What do you do on Fridays – starve?”
“Far from it. On Fridays we eat out at the pub – with anyone else from the office who cares to join us. Saturdays and Sundays, we tend to fend for ourselves – though, more often than not, one or other or both of us ends up at Downlands.”
Jo looked at them incredulously. “You’ve really got it made, haven’t you? No wonder you’re both content to settle down in Westermouth for the rest of your lives – you’re like an old married couple.”
She saw Aidan’s eyes narrow slightly. Her jibe had obviously hit home.
“Oh, it’s far better than marriage,” Daniel assured her in a mocking tone. “We share our meals, but after we’ve eaten we each go our own way for the rest of the evening. There’s none of the nagging and whining that goes on in a normal marriage.” He grunted as Hannah’s sharp elbow nudged him in the ribcage.
Kate rose.
“I’ll wash up,” she said brightly. She glanced at Aidan, hoping against hope that he would offer to help.
Beth leapt up. “I’ll dry.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at the girl.
Daniel helped them carry the plates out to the kitchen.
With Beth chattering happily about their Easter visit, Kate immersed her hands in the soapy water and let her thoughts wander. Through the window she saw Jo standing alone on the patio. She stood for a few moments in the moonlight, gazing out across the river, then walked slowly towards the steps.
Another figure appeared and she saw that it was Aidan. Her hands continued their automatic washing of the dishes, but her eyes were transfixed. As if in a dream she watched him catch her up, saw her turn to face him and looked on in horrified disbelief as he bent to bestow the lightest of light kisses upon her head.
A plate slipped from her hand and smashed into smithereens on the floor. She turned blindly away.
o0o
&nb
sp; Aidan’s cheek stung from the resounding slap that she had given him.
“It was just a kiss, Jo,” he tried to inject some humour into the situation. “I wasn’t trying to rape you.”
“You took me by surprise.” She turned away from him, hugging her arms across her chest.
They stood in silence staring out across the river.
“I’m sorry,” he said reluctantly. “I had no right to kiss you. It’s not as if you’ve given me any signs of encouragement. Rather the reverse in fact.”
Jo thought of Beth’s excitement at the prospect of their Easter visit. She couldn’t spoil her sister’s pleasure now. She took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry too. I did rather overreact. I shouldn’t have slapped you.”
“It’s the first time I’ve been hit by a woman.”
“It’s the first time I’ve been kissed by a man.”
He looked at her in amazement. “I find that hard to believe.”
Jo thought of her father and her lips tightened. She shrugged. “There’s never been anyone I fancied enough.”
“One day there will be. I’m just sorry it obviously isn’t going to be me.”
He said the words lightly, but she sensed the sadness behind them.
“I really am sorry, you know. You’re a lovely man but...”
“... but you just don’t find me attractive.”
She shook her head.
“But you don’t actively dislike me?”
“Of course I don’t.”
“Do you think you might come to like me better?”
She shrugged. “I doubt it but you never know. It’s Beth who adores you, I’m afraid. As far as she’s concerned, you’re the biggest paragon of virtue who ever walked this earth.”
He laughed. “She’ll grow out of it.”
“I expect she will. In the meantime, you seem to have done her a world of good – you’ve really brought her out of her shell and I’m grateful for it. I haven’t seen her so happy since Mum died.”
“I’m glad. She’s a lovely girl and I’m genuinely fond of her.” He gave her a wry grin. “One sister’s better than none, I suppose.”
She smiled back, and felt the last residue of tension between them dissipate.
“So you’ll still come down for Easter?”
“Of course – I’ll look forward to it. But if you make a grab for me again you know what you can expect!”
Laughing, they walked side by side back into the house.
CHAPTER NINE
December 1971 – January 1972
Jo stood in the kitchen of Harrison House waiting for the milk to boil. She glanced at her watch. It was ten past eight. Taking a teaspoon from the drawer, she spooned some Ovaltine into a couple of mugs and leaned against the table, drumming her fingers.
The journey back from Devon had seemed interminable. Kate had been silent and withdrawn, Beth intermittently tearful and even Hannah’s usual exuberance had faltered after fifty miles or so, at which point she had fallen into a deep sleep.
Dropping Beth back at the children’s home had been even worse than usual. The contrast between the bright-eyed, laughing girl who Aidan had teased the previous evening, and the pale, tear-streaked youngster of today, had been almost too much to bear. God knows, she had shed enough tears herself as Kate had turned the car around and she had watched her sister’s pathetic figure growing ever smaller as they chugged back down the drive.
The milk hissed on the stove and she leaned forward to switch off the gas. She poured the milk into the mugs and sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to this conversation with Kate, but it was something that had to be done.
o0o
“Kate?” She tapped on her door. “It’s Jo. I’ve brought you a drink.”
The door opened. Kate, already in her dressing gown, had obviously been curled up on the bed with a book. Jo handed her the mug.
“Thanks.”
“Can I come in for a moment? I think we need to talk.”
Kate shrugged her shoulders in a couldn’t-care-less sort of way and returned to the sanctuary of her bed. Faintly irritated, Jo followed her in and perched on the armchair. After spending the day piled into the car with three other people, she longed for the solitude of her own room, but she had to get this over with first.
“It’s about Aidan.”
“What about him?”
Jo took a deep breath and counted to ten.
“I know how you feel about him.”
“So? How do I feel?”
“I think you’re in love with him.”
“If that’s what you think it was particularly unkind of you to make such a play for him over Christmas, wasn’t it?” Kate sipped her drink, watching Jo over the rim of her mug.
Jo struggled to control her rising temper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I did absolutely nothing to make him take notice of me the whole time we were in Devon.”
“Staying away from church on Christmas Eve was a pretty shrewd move, wasn’t it?”
“I’m an atheist, Kate, you know that. I don’t go to church unless it’s for a wedding or a funeral.”
“You could see what sort of person Aidan was. You might have guessed he’d be considerate enough to leave the service early to make sure you were OK. I think you did it deliberately.”
Her voice was calm and controlled but there was no doubt in Jo’s mind that she meant what she said. Whatever had happened to sane, rational, no-nonsense Kate? If that’s what love did to people, she’d make sure she steered clear of it.
“Kate, I promise you, nothing was further from my mind. I didn’t want to go to church – what I did want was a bit of peace and quiet on my own. In fact, I was furious when he came back early – and I told him so.”
“And I suppose you were also furious when he followed you out onto the patio last night?” Kate’s eyes were scornful. “Honestly, Jo – do you think I was born yesterday? I saw him kiss you. Don’t bother to deny it!”
“And what did you see next – after you saw him kiss me?”
“I saw you both come back into the house – you were laughing.” Kate’s brilliant forget-me-not blue eyes were bright with pain and anger. “It was pretty obvious something had happened between you.”
“So you didn’t see me slap him?”
Kate frowned. “No. And I don’t believe that you did for one moment. I don’t think Aidan would have looked so cheerful when he came back inside if you’d just belted him one.”
“We’d talked it over and sorted it out by then.” Jo’s patience was wearing thin. “But whether you believe it or not, I never wanted him to kiss me – and I did hit him. And I don’t think he’ll be kissing me again in a hurry either.”
“Not until Easter at any rate.” Kate’s tone was decidedly frosty.
Jo stood up and slammed her mug down on the table. “Believe what you want to then, but I haven’t fallen for Aidan – and I never will. He’s simply not my type.”
“If you say so.” Kate’s eyes slid back to her book.
Jo glared at her, exasperated. “My advice to you is to stop pussy-footing around with him and try a few of Hannah’s seduction techniques. It’d do you a lot more good than taking out your obvious disappointment on me.”
“Just get out and leave me alone!” Kate’s voice rose to a tearful shriek.
“With pleasure.” Jo stalked to the door and closed it a little too firmly behind her.
o0o
“What was all that about?”
“Oh God.” For a moment Jo had completely forgotten that Hannah’s room was next door to Kate’s. “I suppose you heard every word.”
“No, I didn’t.” Hannah’s tone was full of righteous indignation. “And I w
asn’t eavesdropping, if that’s what you think. It just sounded like you two were having a row or something.”
Reluctantly Jo beckoned Hannah down the corridor to her own room and ushered her inside. Was this interminable day never going to end?
“It wasn’t exactly a row,” she explained patiently. “It was more of a discussion.”
“Well, it was a pretty noisy one. And it sounded like Kate was crying when you left.”
Hannah’s tone was decidedly accusatory and Jo felt her hackles rise.
“Yes, she was. Unfortunately it’s not my fault if she’s fallen in love with your blasted brother and he’s fallen in love with me. It’s like one of those ridiculous Brian Rix farces.”
“Aidan?” Hannah’s eyes were like organ-stops. “In love with you? But he’s only known you for three days.”
“That didn’t stop him kissing me last night.”
“You’re joking! I’ve never known him kiss anyone in under six months before.”
“Well, he made an exception for me.”
“Jeez. Three days. That’s pretty fast moving for a Quaker.” Hannah gazed at her curiously. “Purely out of interest, did you enjoy it?”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Hannah! I’m not going to go into details about your brother’s sexual expertise – or lack of it. He kissed me. I slapped him. End of story.”
“You slapped Aidan?” A slow smile spread across Hannah’s face. “Brilliant! I’ve often wanted to do that, but I’ve never had the nerve.”
“No, it wasn’t brilliant, Hannah. I shouldn’t have hit him. It’s just that he took me by surprise and I overreacted, that’s all.”
“So you don’t fancy him then?”
“No. He’s a really nice person and all that, but he’s not my type.”
“He’s not my type either – and he’s my brother,” Hannah agreed moodily. “But what’s all this to do with Kate?”
“For heaven’s sake, she’s your closest friend. Surely you must have realised she was in love with Aidan? Has been for years according to Daniel.”
Onwards Flows the River Page 17