The English Boys
Page 30
After lunch, he sat at the computer, engrossed in his characters, who might have borne some resemblance to himself and Hugh in better times. He scratched his chin, which he hadn’t shaved for days, and pushed up the sleeves as a knock sounded upon the door. Daniel looked up, surprised. In the fortnight he’d been in Cornwall, no one had come to the house. He collected the post from Mrs. Bates at the shop where he purchased his food. His mother, who had threatened to visit, had been assured via numerous emails that he needed to get away from everything and had at last given up her repeated requests to come see him. He stood, stretching his back from the long hour he’d spent in the hard chair, and went over to the door. When he opened it, Carey stood at the threshold.
“My God!” he said, without even opening the door for her to enter. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” she said.
“I’ve been worried about you too.”
“I wasn’t surprised when I heard you left London.”
“There are too many memories around every corner. I couldn’t take it. But what about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“I can’t go back,” she answered. “I can only go forward.”
His manners suddenly remembered, Daniel opened the door wider for her to come in.
Instead, she shook her head.
“It’s nice out here,” she said.
“It is,” he agreed. “I was just about to take a break.”
He pulled a blanket from the back of a chair, and leaving the door open, led the way to the garden and spread it on the ground. They wouldn’t talk now, he knew. It would take days, maybe weeks, before they would be able to discuss what they’d been through, but at the moment that didn’t matter. She was here. He sat down on one corner of the blanket and she on another, not touching. He worried that she was too fragile for that just now. In fact, he realized with a start, he was too.
Daniel watched as Carey looked out over the wide expanse of field as if she might never move from the spot. He felt a ripple of anticipation being near her. Her dress, a cotton sheath covered in a riot of violet flowers, brought Tamsyn to mind. He supposed he would always think of them together. In a way, being with Carey would keep Tamsyn alive; for both of them, no doubt. It was a pleasant thought. He stretched out on the woolen blanket beside her and felt the warm sun on his face and breathed in the salty sea air. The first day of summer had arrived.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to everyone who helped and encouraged me as I wrote The English Boys:
My fabulous agent, Victoria Skurnick, believed in me and brought out my best.
The wonderful editors, publicists, and crew at Midnight Ink: Terri Bischoff, Amy Glaser, Sandy Sullivan, Katie Mickschl, and so many others made this process rewarding and fun.
Dear friends Lori Naufel, Cindy Gross, Leslie Purcell, and my Book Club girls cheered my progress along the way.
My grandmother fostered my love of books and reading. She put a copy of David Copperfield in my hands when I was young and continued to guide me through a very English literary education, sharing her own poetry with me and encouraging my desire to write. After she passed away, my aunt took over, and we formed our own book club of two. I miss you both and owe you a debt of thanks.
To my wonderful family, particularly my daughters, whose abilities helped elevate my writing and made this book possible. As first readers, Caitlin’s finely tuned literary instincts and Heather’s sharp editing skills made the book stronger than ever. I’m proud to be the mother of two such talented young women.
And special thanks to my husband, Will Thomas, a great writer, whose love and encouragement mean the world to me; without them I could never have written this novel.
© Justin Greiman
About the Author
Julia Thomas (Oklahoma) is a graduate of Northeastern State University and an educator. The English Boys is her debut novel.