‘We can’t tell you that.’ I spun round in my seat. Charlie had come into the office and heard the last exchange. ‘Come off it, Geoff,’ he said. ‘No matter how much Monica wants to know the details, neither Blake nor I will give them. Anyway, I can assure you that Miss Blake’s baby is well cared for, has a proper nanny and Miss Blake will continue to be the best young reporter you have on this paper.’
Geoff grinned. ‘That’s all right, then. You two make a great team.’ He gave me an awkward glance. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Blake. Our owner had heard and was a bit worried.’
I smiled back. ‘It doesn’t matter. I understand what went on.’ But I made a vow that somehow I’d get back at Monica. I wasn’t the sweetness and light person that some thought I was.
When we were back at our desks I asked Charlie if he’d mind if I went away for a few days. ‘All right, Blake,’ he said. ‘But only a week. Things are hotting up and I’m arranging a meeting in France with their foreign ministry. It’ll probably be in about ten days’ time and I’ll need you for that.’
‘I’ll be back before then,’ I promised. ‘I want to show Marisol my house by the sea. I want her to sniff the Cornish air.’ I had another thought. ‘Charlie,’ I said slowly. ‘You could join us for a couple of days. I’d like that.’ I was coming to the realisation that having Charlie around was a good thing. A comfortable thing. He made me laugh.
‘I might,’ he answered. ‘It would be good to have a day by the sea. Don’t hold me to it, though. If anything happens I want to be on hand and I’ll want you to be with me as well.’
I gave him the address and telephone number of Summer’s Rest and then, as I was about to return to the article I was writing about Dieter, he said, ‘By the way, Blake. I looked up that place you mentioned. The place that Xanthe said von Klausen was going to. It’s in German Silesia, not far from the official border with Poland. It’s a disputed area and has been since the last war. I don’t think he’d be going there unless they’re up to more than we thought. I’ll keep an eye on it, but maybe she got it wrong.’
‘I expect she did,’ I said, and that got me worrying about Xanthe again and I wondered how she was and where she was. That afternoon I went to see my father, to tell him that I hadn’t been able to persuade my sister to come home.
‘But you did see her?’ he asked.
‘Oh yes. She looked well and has a house in a nice area of Berlin.’ I didn’t tell him about von Klausen; that would be up to Xanthe. I didn’t tell him she was pregnant, either.
‘I don’t care how nice the area is,’ he groaned. ‘She must get out of there. I’ve contacted the British Embassy but they have no idea where she is. How is it that you found her?’
I laughed. That was more or less what von Klausen had asked. ‘I’m a journalist, Daddy. We find things out. Look, I’ll give you her address and you can pass it on. They might have some luck with that. And there’s one other thing. She’s being very reckless with her money. Is there any way you can put a limit on her account? I know it’s a trust fund but can anything be done?’
He looked up at me. ‘You’re trying to tell me that she’s giving money to her Nazi friends, is that it?’
I shrugged. ‘Possibly.’
‘Oh God, that girl,’ he growled. ‘Nothing but trouble. Always has been.’ He picked up a book from the table beside his chair and lovingly stroked its cover. It was a gesture I had seen him make so often. ‘Leave it with me,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll contact the lawyers and see what can be done.’
I had a moment of private malice. That should put paid to von Klausen. Perhaps he’d let Xanthe come home if he was cut off from her money, but I smiled at my father and said, ‘Anyway, enough of her. How are you?’
He hunched his shoulders and I took a proper look at him. His face was paper white and he had dark shadows under his eyes. ‘Not so good,’ he muttered. ‘My fellow in Harley Street wants me to go into a clinic for tests. Said the old ticker isn’t working properly.’
‘Well, go,’ I said angrily. ‘Do what you’re told.’
‘Yes, Seffy, dear. I will. I’m going next week.’ He smiled fondly at me. ‘Don’t nag.’
‘Have you heard from Mother?’
He nodded, miserably. ‘She’s started divorce proceedings and sent me papers to sign. Apparently it doesn’t take all that long in America.’ He flipped over the pages of the large dusty book he was reading and made a pencil note in the margin. ‘I still don’t know what I did wrong.’
‘Nothing,’ I said, upset for him. ‘Absolutely nothing. It was her.’
Cornwall
It was a bright sunny day when we set off for Cornwall and all thoughts of Mother and even poor Daddy had vanished. I was excited. This time, when I arrived at the house, it would have an extra frisson because it would be mine. My property. A property that I loved and which meant so much to me, especially after being there with Amyas. I thought of him a lot on that long drive, wondering where he was and what he was doing. Nothing legal, I was sure of that.
‘Why are you smiling?’ asked Kitty, who was sitting beside me. Alice and Marisol had taken the back seat and were fast asleep.
‘I was thinking of someone,’ I answered.
‘Someone good?’
‘Good? Well,’ I laughed, ‘I don’t think anyone would call Amyas good. But . . .’
‘He is someone you love?’
‘Yes,’ I said simply. ‘He is.’
‘Is he here in England?’
‘I don’t know, Kitty. I don’t know where he is. He could be anywhere.’
As we’d started off so late, and because Marisol needed to have a proper sleep, I decided to stop over at a hotel for the night in Devon. It was frustrating because I was suddenly desperate to get to Cornwall. I needed to smell the sea and walk barefoot on the beach, but in the morning, when I came to start the car, it had sprung an oil leak. The garage mechanic said it would take all morning to fix.
‘Oh, God, this is ridiculous.’ I looked at Alice and Kitty. ‘Perhaps we should turn round and go home.’
‘Oh, no.’ Kitty’s face fell. ‘I have not been before to a beach. Please, please, Seffy, let us go.’
‘All right,’ I grinned and raised my eyebrows to Alice, who was smiling too. So, after lunch, when the car was mended, we set off again and arrived at Summer’s Rest in the late afternoon of a wonderful Cornish day.
Alice and Kitty exclaimed with delight over the house as, holding Marisol in my arms, I walked on to the veranda and looked at the ocean. It was smooth and calm, greeny blue and sparkling in the sun. I’ll have a swim later on, I promised myself. I’ll immerse myself in the water and remember the time we made love in the sea. How long ago was that? Two years? It must be. And so much had happened since.
‘Your daddy was here,’ I said to Marisol, who was pointing to the sea and squealing in delight. I thought of Amyas standing on this veranda and me coming up behind him and putting my arms around his beautiful, naked body. Oh, Amyas, I thought, how I want you.
‘I’m going down to the village,’ I said, ‘to see Mrs Penney. If we’re lucky she’ll be able to come up and cook for us. I won’t be long.’
With Marisol in my arms I walked the few hundred yards down to the harbour and to the fisherman’s cottage that was the Penneys’ house. She was there, brushing sand from her step, and looked at me, and particularly at Marisol, in surprise.
‘Well, Miss Seffy, what can I say? Is this your child?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, she is. I adopted her in Spain. Her name is Marisol and I hope you’ll come to care for her as you did for Xanthe and me.’
‘I dare say I will, but I’m still surprised at you, Miss Seffy. Carrying on the way you did with that man.’
‘I know,’ I said, ‘and I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I’m down here for a week, can you come up to the house? I’ve brought the nanny and a young friend, so there’ll be the three of us.’
She gave me a screwed-up smile, from a
face that had spent many days looking out to sea. ‘Of course I will. I’ll be up in the morning. Have you got something for supper?’
‘Yes, I bought bread and milk and some eggs on the way. I’ll make an omelette.’
‘All right.’ She stepped forward and peered into Marisol’s face. ‘Adopted, you say? Well, she’s a pretty babby, I’ll give her that. You brought a pram down here and a cot?’
I shook my head. ‘I’ll carry her and she can sleep on one of the little beds in the nursery until I get more organised.’
‘No need,’ Mrs Penney said. ‘Your old cot is in the loft and there’s a pram in the store shed. I’ll send Penney up later to get them for you. Make do for tonight and I’ll give them a good scrub tomorrow.’
‘Thank you,’ I smiled. Then, ‘Mrs Penney, the house is mine now. My father has given it to me. I hope you’ll continue with the arrangement.’
‘I know it’s yours, Miss Seffy. Your dad sent me a kind letter and a generous cheque.’ She patted my arm. ‘You were a naughty girl with that man, but I’ve always said you were the best of the bunch, so I’ll keep on and gladly.’
I walked back up to the house, calling hello to the villagers who knew me and nodding to the summer visitors.
Kitty was waiting when I walked in. ‘Seffy,’ she cried. ‘I have something to tell you.’
‘What?’ I smiled. ‘Did you walk on to the beach and paddle in the water?’
‘Yes. I did. How do you know that?’
‘Because that is exactly what I used to do as soon as we arrived from London. Did you love it?’
‘Oh, I did. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you. It is a most surprising thing. I met a man on the beach. And Seffy, it was Dov! The man who came to our apartment in Berlin. It is so surprising that he is here in Cornwall. On your beach.’
I knew then. I think I’d known all along. ‘Where is he?’ My heart was almost bursting from my chest and I could barely get my words out sensibly.
‘He is still on the beach, I think. He told me to send you down when you came home. He wants to talk to you alone.’
I had reached the bottom of the steps before I dared to look towards the sea and the figure in white trousers and a billowing white Indian cotton shirt who was standing on the shoreline. The late afternoon sun sparkled on the water and the gulls screamed as they followed in the wake of the fishing boat crossing the bay, but I had eyes only for him. As I started off across the sand the smell of ozone filled my head and my heart was beating so fast that I felt dizzy.
He turned and, as if in slow motion, started to walk towards me then stopped when we were only inches apart.
‘Hello, Persephone,’ said Amyas, smiling his beautiful smile and, opening his arms, he gathered me in.
Chapter Twenty-Three
WAS HE REALLY here? Was I imagining it? Because even as I fell into his arms, one part of me couldn’t believe it. His lips on mine and the hands which pulled my body to him could have been something snatched from my memory. That same memory of our time together, relived every lonely night; those few precious hours which sat like pinnacles of ecstasy amongst the many months of our being apart.
‘Amyas?’ I whispered, when I pulled my face away from his. ‘Is it really you?’
‘Of course,’ he laughed. ‘At least I hope so. Don’t we always kiss on this beach?’
I laughed too but then found stupid tears in my eyes. I had wondered where he was for so long and now he was here, holding me. Loving me.
‘Oh God,’ I wept. ‘It’s so wonderful to see you. I’m so happy.’
‘You don’t sound it,’ he said, kissing the soft skin behind my ear.
I dragged a hand over my eyes. ‘Idiot.’
He put his arms around me again, holding me so close that I could feel his body through his clothes and knew that he could feel mine.
‘You’re thinking of us making love in the surf,’ he whispered into my ear. I closed my eyes; the sensation was almost overwhelming. ‘So am I,’ he said, his voice choking, then kissed me again.
‘Bliss,’ I muttered and ran my hands over his chest pulling him harder to me. Suddenly, he gasped as though in pain and gave a little racking cough. I opened my eyes and looked at him.
‘What is it?’ I asked and noticed then that his face looked strained, much thinner, and that lines had appeared around his eyes. ‘Amyas? What’s the matter? Are you ill?’
‘No. I’m fine,’ he insisted, but I knew he wasn’t.
‘Come to the house,’ I said. ‘I’ve got people there, but it doesn’t matter. It’s only Kitty Goldstein and Marisol’s nanny.’
‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘Charlie Bradford told me you were bringing them along.’
‘Charlie? Why? How?’ I was bewildered.
‘I went to your flat, but you weren’t there. The old man across the corridor with the dog told me I’d just missed you. That you’d gone away. He wouldn’t say where, so I phoned Charlie. He told me.’
Poor Charlie, I thought. What must it have taken for him to say where I was and to guess that Amyas would come to find me. It was such a decent gesture, and so typically Charlie.
‘Good old Charlie,’ I smiled.
‘Yes,’ nodded Amyas, with a twisted smile. ‘Good old Charlie.’
I giggled. ‘Don’t be mean, Amyas. And the old man is Jacob, Kitty’s uncle and normally he’s charming. But he’s a bit frightened at the moment because there’s a possibility of him being interned. And Kitty too.’
‘I thought that’s who he might be,’ Amyas said. ‘When I heard his accent I spoke to him in German: perhaps that scared him. Maybe he thought I was checking up on him.’
We were walking towards the steps and Amyas gave a grunt and staggered slightly.
‘Amyas?’ I grabbed his arm to steady him. ‘What is it?’
‘Get me up the steps,’ he gasped. ‘I’ll be fine once we sit down.’
It was a struggle and halfway up we had to stop because he couldn’t go any further. ‘Wait here,’ I said and ran up the remaining steps to find Kitty who was sitting on the veranda with Alice.
‘Come and help,’ I said. ‘My friend is ill. He can’t manage with just me.’
‘Your friend?’ Kitty looked astonished. ‘How is Dov your friend?’ But she and Alice followed me and between us we got Amyas up to the house.
‘We’ll take him to my room,’ I said, ignoring the raised eyebrows of Alice and Kitty, and going in through the veranda doors, we laid him on the bed.
‘That’s better,’ he sighed and closed his eyes.
‘I’m getting the doctor,’ I said, expecting him to object but ready to ignore his objections. But he said nothing and, sick with anxiety, I went out of the room to call the local physician. He was a man I’d known since childhood and over the years he had been a good friend to our family.
‘Who’s ill?’ he asked. ‘Is it you, Seffy?’
‘No, Dr Jago, it’s a friend of mine. I don’t know what’s wrong, but please come.’
‘Be with you in ten minutes.’ He was an admirably brief man.
When I turned away from the phone I met the eyes of Kitty and Alice. ‘Explanations later,’ I said firmly. Leaving them staring, I went back to Amyas.
‘The doctor will be here soon.’ I sat down on the bed beside him. On his shirt was a small bloodstain low down by his ribs and I gaped at it in horror. ‘Let me have a look,’ I said, and pushed the shirt up. He had a small dressing taped to the left side of his chest, through which blood had leaked, and around the wound a yellowing, week-old bruise told a tale of violence.
‘What happened?’ I asked.
‘Shot,’ he muttered. ‘The bullet went through and out the other side but the damn thing’s refusing to knit together. I think it’s infected.’
‘How did it happen?’ I cried, gently rolling him over to see a similar dressing on his back. ‘Who shot you?’
He gave me one of his familiar, careless grins. ‘You don’t
want to know, Persephone darling. Safer not to tell.’
I could only stare at him. There was so much I didn’t understand, but now I was determined to get to the bottom of it. ‘You will tell me,’ I said. ‘But,’ I could hear Dr Jago in the hall, ‘after he’s gone.’
Jago was brilliant as usual. ‘You should be in hospital,’ he said after ripping off the two dressings and examining the entrance and exit wounds, ‘but I’m guessing you aren’t prepared to go.’ He gently pressed his fingers into the area surrounding the inflamed and puckered wound. ‘And I’m also guessing that how you came to be shot is none of my business?’
Amyas tried one of his usual grins, but Jago’s probing fingers had been painful and his answer came out with a groan. ‘Quite right, Doctor, but I’d be grateful if you could do what you can for me. As for hospital, well . . . I don’t think so. Persephone will look after me.’
‘Huh,’ said Jago, giving him an old-fashioned look. ‘International adventurer, are you? Someone Seffy’s met on her travels abroad? Well, I won’t pry, but I’ll dust the wound with sulpha and I’ll give you some fresh dressings. Take these pills for the pain. Stay in bed for a few days, see how you do.’ He stepped back from the bed, contemplating his patient. ‘You know, you’ve been a lucky young man. Half an inch lower and your spleen would have been penetrated and you’d probably be dead by now. But even so, there’s a bit of rib damage, I’d say, added to the infection.’ He picked up his bag. ‘I’ll come by the day after tomorrow.’
‘Thank you.’ Amyas shook the doctor’s hand.
In the hall Jago looked at me. ‘Be careful, Persephone. That wound will heal, but your friend looks as if he could be dangerous.’
I smiled. ‘Not to me, Dr Jago.’
He pushed a strong hand through his thick, untidy grey hair and gave me a kind smile. He had very blue eyes and a tanned Cornish face. His parents had been fisherfolk, not of the quality that Mother had preferred, but he was loved in this part of the county. ‘Where’s this little girl I’ve been hearing about all over the village?’ he chuckled. ‘My goodness, Seffy, you’re as headstrong as ever. Taking on an orphan. I can’t see your mother enjoying that notion.’
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