Only One Woman

by Christina Jones

  As Dan and the car disappeared, I stood outside the large detached centuries-old granite farmhouse, golden in the evening sun, surrounded by a large walled garden at the front and snaking lanes at the back, with nothing but fields and trees as far as the eye could see, and thought how very different it was from my own red-brick, semi-detached council house. And suddenly felt violently homesick.

  What the hell was I doing here?

  Stella’s Diary

  May 17th 1969 – going to Jersey, part 3

  ‘Hi!’

  Just as I was wondering if I could somehow find my way back to the harbour and catch the next ferry home, the door opened and someone – Eva? – waved and called cheerfully.

  I squinted against the sun. ‘Er – hello.’

  ‘Stella? Has Dan dropped you off and gone already? Trust him… Hello – I’m Eva – and this…’ she walked towards me and indicated the small blonde child beside her, ‘is Holly. Did you have a good trip?’

  ‘Er – yes… thank you…’

  I just gawped at Eva. Young, tall, slender, and totally gorgeous, she had tousled tawny hair, high cheekbones and the same stunning turquoise eyes as Scott. She looked like Ursula Andress. Scott’s parents were about as far removed from mine as it was possible to get!

  Holly smiled prettily and showed me her toy tractor.

  ‘She takes after Dan,’ Eva said. ‘Loves tractors, cars, lorries

  – not even slightly interested in dolls or teddy bears. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you.’

  ‘It’s very kind of you to – er – invite me…’

  ‘You’re welcome. Scott uses this place like a hotel and so do his friends. As I said on the phone, as long as you’re willing to pay your way and can cook, I’m fine with you staying as long as you want. Come along in…’

  I grabbed the suitcase and tote bag and followed Eva and Holly into the house.

  It was exactly as I’d guessed it would be: all flagged floors, with heavy doors leading to many and various rooms, high ceilings, a wide staircase ahead. Massive, ancient and imposing.

  ‘Kitchen through here,’ Eva pushed open a door. ‘Sitting room… family room… dining room… sort of study-cum-office-cum-junk-room… you’ll soon find your way around I’m sure. Now – upstairs… Holly will show you your bedroom.’

  In a bit of a daze I followed them both up the wide, curving wooden curving staircase.

  ‘This is yours,’ Eva indicated a door at the end of a corridor on the second floor as Holly scampered on ahead into the room.

  The whole place was like a hotel! I was sure I’d get lost! And I knew I was very, very out of my depth there.

  ‘There’s a bathroom next door. We’re on the floor above. So’s Holly. Scott has a room downstairs so he can come and go as he pleases, entertain friends, eat, drink, sleep, play music, whatever, without disturbing the rest of us.’

  I stepped into the bedroom. It was huge, and very lovely with a massive quilted bed and ancient oak furniture and double sash windows overlooking the front of the house and the fields beyond.

  ‘Thank you…’ I smiled at Eva. ‘This is wonderful.’

  ‘And yours for the duration of your stay. Yours. Not yours and Scott’s. I’m well aware that your relationship has gone far beyond holding hands, but under the circumstances...’

  ‘Um…’ I blushed. This was so embarrassing. ‘No, I understand…’

  ‘Good. And the stairs creak and so do the floorboards so please don’t imagine he’ll be doing any nocturnal visiting.’

  ‘Um…’ I blushed. ‘No, I…’

  ‘I’m not old-fashioned in any way, and your morals are your own concern, and I know you practically lived together in Leighton Buzzard, and what you do together away from here is fine by me, but as Scott is engaged to someone else I just think…’

  ‘Er… yes…’

  ‘Out of interest, if he stayed in your home would your parents allow you to share a bed?’

  ‘God, no!’

  ‘Exactly. I’m so glad we understand one another.’ Eva smiled at me. ‘OK, now I’m going to get Holly to bed. I’ll leave you to unpack – oh, and Scott won’t be home until the early hours so there’s no point in waiting up for him. I’ll probably see you in the morning if I’m around.’

  And she whisked Holly away and they disappeared along the corridor.

  Leaving me alone. No offer of food or drink. No suggestion that I should come downstairs for the rest of the evening, when I was ready. No nothing.

  I liked Eva, first impressions were that she was open and friendly, but I simply couldn’t imagine my mum not making sure any visitor had a cup of tea, or ginger beer – depending on the time of year – and more food than anyone could possibly need. I was exhausted, homesick, and very lonely. And I hadn’t eaten all day or had anything to drink since the lemonade on The Sarnia…

  I sat on the edge of the big downy double bed and wanted to cry.

  Stella’s Diary

  May 17th 1969 – going to Jersey, part 4

  It was still daylight. Just. The sun had set across the tops of the distant trees but it was still very warm and stiflingly humid. I’d unpacked and put my clothes away, put my toiletries in the bathroom – and then, because I was tired and sweaty and scruffy and there was nothing else to do, I’d washed my hair and had a bath.

  By now I was far too tired to be hungry, but really needed a drink, so I filled a glass in the bathroom with water from the tap several times. It wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined my first night in paradise was going to be.

  Back in the bedroom, utterly exhausted and scarily homesick, I put on my new-for-Jersey baby-doll pyjamas, threw up the sash windows to try and get some air, and, knowing there was no way I’d ever get to sleep, climbed into bed. I must have read all of two pages of Frenchman’s Creek before I sank into oblivion.

  The knock on the door woke me. For a moment I had absolutely no idea where I was and, panicking, heart-racing, blinked in the darkness. Where on earth…? Oh, yes – I was in Jersey – I must have dropped off for a moment… had I been dreaming? Was the knocking on the door part of the dream?

  ‘Twinkle?’

  The one whispered word made me shoot out of bed and hurtle across the unfamiliar room, cannoning into things as I did so.

  I opened the door.

  I just stared at him: at the long black hair and the gorgeous turquoise eyes and the slow, sexy smile – then I hurled myself into his arms.

  ‘Oh, my God, I’ve missed you so much…’ I muttered into his neck, trembling from the nearness of him after so long, drinking in the warmth and feel of him, loving the scent of him.

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ he whispered, holding me so close, and kissing me over and over again. ‘I’ve been thinking about you all night – couldn’t wait to get back here. Oh, Twinkle I’m so glad you’re here.’

  I suddenly pulled away from him. ‘Argh – nooo… you can’t see me like this!’

  ‘What?’ he stared at me. ‘Like what?’

  ‘I haven’t done my hair and my eyelashes are on the dressing table.’

  Scott laughed, then clamped his hand over his mouth. ‘You crack me up! No – hush – don’t make me laugh – we mustn’t make a noise. Listen, your hair is very Hendrix and your eyes are like a panda and you’re gorgeous and I love you. Now – keep quiet… However…’

  My heart sank. ‘Yes?’

  He looked me up and down, grinning at the rose-sprigged, lacy, baby-dolls. ‘You’re very – um – overdressed. I’m not used to you being so well covered at bedtime.’

  ‘You are too,’ I retorted. ‘And you have a short memory – surely you haven’t forgotten the massive granny knickers and the big-top T-shirts?’

  ‘Ah, yes. How could I forget,’ he chuckled. ‘One of my favourite things about you.’

  I poked my tongue out at him and we both giggled again.

  He held out his hand. ‘Come on – and shush…’

  ‘What? W
here?’

  ‘Downstairs… my room. We have loads to catch up on – but we can’t talk up here… they’ll overhear us or we’ll wake Holly or something and we wouldn’t want that, would we?’ He grinned at me. ‘Shush – don’t giggle…’

  I giggled happily. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Two-ish.’

  I’d slept for ages then… odd.

  He grabbed my hand, and both trying hard not to laugh as we avoided the squeakiest floorboards, we tiptoed downstairs.

  Scott’s ground-floor room, at the front of the house overlooking the garden, was like a massive bed-sit. It had everything necessary to make it self-contained. That much I took in before he grabbed me and pulled me down on to the bed…

  Ages – blissful ages – later, I sat up in bed. ‘Um – weren’t we going to talk?’

  He rolled over and looked at me. ‘Oh, yes… I somehow forgot that bit… can’t imagine how that happened. Go on, then – talk – tell me about the journey and everything…’

  While Scott put the Moody Blues’ latest LP – On the Threshold of a Dream – on the stereogram, I told him the highlights. He was highly amused by the man wanting to buy me as a wife, resigned to Dan’s comments about us, laughed about Eva’s being adamant that we shouldn’t be sharing a bed, and slightly apologetic about her lack of hospitality.

  ‘I’m sorry you didn’t get anything to eat or drink. Mum really isn’t very interested in that sort of thing – she and Dan eat out most of the time, with or without Holly – and there’s rarely much food here. I think that was why she was so delighted that you could and would cook. You must be starving – I know I am – and I’d kill for a cup of tea.’

  I slid off the bed. ‘You go and make the tea – I’ve just remembered I’ve got some sandwiches upstairs – Dad made them for me, there’s masses of them, and they’re still in my bag.’

  ‘They’ll be a bit worse for wear, surely?’

  ‘No – they’re in tinfoil in a sandwich box. Practically hermetically sealed. They’ll be fine, trust me.’ I headed for the door. ‘Go on –you make the tea – I’ll get the food.’

  ‘Stella!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re naked.’

  ‘So are you.’

  ‘Yes, but I’m staying down here to make tea. You’re going upstairs. Where my mother and Dan and Holly are and where you’re supposed to be.’

  ‘Ah, yes…’

  I retraced my steps and pulled on the baby-dolls.

  The sandwiches were still more than edible and we had a picnic in bed as the dawn broke. While we were eating, Scott told me about Lords, and about the airplays for ‘Livin’ with You’ and the sales and progress, and about the rest of the band – and how Rich hadn’t come over with them as there was no travelling or setting up or any need for a roadie and that he was going to spend the summer in London with his mum and his girlfriend. I hoped he’d be happy – it was going to be weird without him.

  ‘And I’ve got a present for you,’ Scott handed me a 45 rpm record, then took it back again. ‘No, hang on – I’ll just put it on the turntable so you can hear it.’

  ‘Livin’ With You!’ Narnia’s Children’s record! At last! Oh, my word! Right from the opening bars I got goosebumps! God – they were so talented! What a heart-breaking, gorgeous, melodic, clever song… and so very sad… a lament for lost love, never to be reclaimed…

  I sat on the bed, transfixed. It was even more amazing than I’d imagined. Oh, I hoped Stephan was pulling out all the publicity shots like he had for Doc Dekker. ‘Livin’ with You’ deserved to be Number One all over the world. We played it another three times before Scott replaced it with On the Threshold of a Dream again.

  ‘Thank you.’ I hugged my copy of ‘Livin’ with You’ to me. ‘I’ll treasure it for ever and play it every day for the rest of my life and remember now… this moment…’

  And I had a sad and scary premonition that the lyrics would come to mean so much more to me in the future.

  As the grey light turned to daylight, we just lay there, listening to the Moody Blues. It was magical. Floating, drowsy, I decided that the words to ‘To Share Our Love’, ‘So Deep Within You’, ‘Lovely to See You’ and ‘Never Comes the Day’, could have been written for us… And I knew they’d not only be added to my eternal musical memory box, but also – along with ‘Livin’ With You’ – be the theme tunes for my stay in Jersey.

  I was totally, blissfully, idyllically happy.

  ‘Oh, I suppose I’ll have to go…’ I stretched lazily. ‘Before anyone realises I’m not where I should be.’

  ‘Stay…’

  ‘No – you’re already half-asleep and it’s nearly daylight now. Oh, and “Stay” was the song that got us into this mess to start with, remember?’

  ‘Uh-huh..’ Scott sighed. ‘Never liked it much… joke. Night, Twinkle – see you later…’

  I kissed him but he was already asleep, and I made it back upstairs and into bed just in time for Holly to come rushing into my room to show me her tractor collection.

  Stella’s Diary

  May 18th 1969

  Tonight I went to Lords with Narnia’s Children. I’d had a really fab day and this just rounded it off perfectly.

  This morning, once Holly had “entertained” me with her tractors and told me mummy was still in bed and daddy was going to work, there was no chance of me getting any sleep, so I dressed and followed her downstairs. It was Sunday so I knew there would be no way of stocking up the apparently sparse food supply in the kitchen. I found some eggs and milk, and as there was no sign of Eva and Scott was still asleep, I made scrambled eggs for Holly and me, hoping they hadn’t been ear-marked for something else.

  Eva, looking stunning in white shorts and a sleeveless linen top, drifted in just as we were finishing, beamed at me, kissed Holly, didn’t mention the eggs, made herself some coffee and drifted out again.

  ‘Mummy will be sunbathing,’ Holly informed me as she slid from her chair. ‘She sunbathes a lot. You can sunbathe if you want. I’ve got a sandpit. Goodbye.’

  I sunbathed.

  I changed into the black bikini with the floaty turquoise shirt over the top, took Frenchman’s Creek, my Ambre Solaire and a towel, and joined Eva and Holly in the walled garden. Goodness it was hot! I shed the shirt and lay on my back and squinted up at the azure blue sky. What luxurious lazy bliss this was.

  Sometime later, Eva lifted her sunglasses and leaned across from her deckchair. ‘Sounds as if Scott’s awake. I can hear music. Go and see if he’s going to join us, Stella. After all, you must be dying to say hello to him having not seen him for so long…’

  Eva’s eyebrows were raised. I looked away – did she know about last night or was she merely fishing?

  I didn’t wait to find out, I scrambled to my feet and rushed into the house.

  Scott was indeed awake, and dressed, and sitting on his bed writing. The Beatles were rocking from the stereo.

  ‘Hi,’ he looked up. ‘And wow – nice bikini. Does it -?’

  ‘Cover the scars, as promised?’ I sat beside him, loving him for remembering. ‘Yep. Just.’

  ‘So it does.’ He leaned across and kissed me. ‘And you smell fab.’

  ‘Ambre Solaire and Sea Jade,’ I kissed him back. ‘My summer scent – blimey… are you writing a book?’

  He pushed the pages away quickly. ‘No – but you should.’

  ‘No way! I’m ok with the short stories and interviews and stuff – but you have to be a proper grown-up, intelligent, posh person to write books. So what are you writing…? Ah… ok… I’ll leave you to it.’

  ‘Stella…’

  ‘No, honestly. I’m outside with your mum and Holly. It’s really hot. I’ll see you later…’

  I rushed back into the garden.

  ‘That was quick.’ Eva lifted the sunglasses again and looked at me. ‘Is he joining us?’

  ‘Um…’ I buried myself in Frenchman’s Creek, ‘Later,
I think. He’s – um – writing a letter at the moment.’

  ‘Is he?’ She did the eyebrow-raise again and let the sunglasses slide back over her eyes. ‘That’s pretty bad timing… men, eh?’

  I said nothing. There wasn’t much to say.

  I read on. Holly chugged various small mechanical toys through the sand-pit.

  Eva leaned across again. ‘Thank you for giving Holly breakfast. Kind of you and saved me a job – I’d never have thought of scrambled eggs. Actually, for late lunch or early supper tonight I’ve got some kidneys somewhere and a cabbage and a few early Royals we were given by the neighbouring farm… I don’t suppose you could concoct something edible from those?’

  Not my first choice in ingredients, I thought, guessing that the early Royals were potatoes and not some sort of Channel Islands nobility. But, heck, I was my mother’s daughter and could surely manage to make something?

  ‘I’ll certainly try. Maybe a sort of casserole with thick gravy?’ That might mask the taste of the kidneys if I could add onions… surely there were onions? ‘Do you want me to make it for all of us?’

  ‘If it’ll stretch. That sounds good, though. I’m impressed. We’ll go food shopping tomorrow – you can buy what you like then.’

  Thanks, I thought. But then, I was staying practically rent-free in her house, wasn’t I? Earning my keep by buying food and cooking wasn’t the worst thing I could be asked to do.

  ‘OK. I enjoy food shopping.’

  Eva shuddered. ‘Each to their own.’

  I laughed. ‘You’ll have to let me know what Holly will eat, though.’

  ‘She’ll eat anything,’ Eva settled back in her deckchair with a happy sigh. ‘As long as I don’t have to cook it.’

  I smiled at her honesty, tried not to think about Scott declaring undying love to Renza in his letter, and resumed reading.

  The peace was shattered by the arrival of a rather scruffy van on the gravel drive. I looked up from Frenchman’s Creek – if it was Dan coming home then I’d wrap myself in the turquoise shirt and cover up. I really didn’t want those sardonic eyes skimming my beach-wear and finding it wanting.