The Girl by the River

by Sheila Jeffries

  Kate frowned. ‘That sounds like prayer to me.’

  ‘Call it what you like. Call it magic, call it telepathy if you like, but it works, Kate. I’ve done it many times in my life, secret times. But you have to promise not to talk, and that’s hard for you, isn’t it?’ His eyes twinkled with sudden life.

  ‘Right. I’ll be quiet. You’re in charge,’ Kate said and pursed her lips.

  Freddie held her head against his heart, and closed his eyes. His bond with Tessa was strong. Unbreakable. He visualised it as a garden of light. He asked for help from the spirits, and first to appear was Granny Barcussy. She showed him a pink rose, with its petals scattered. ‘Each petal is a teardrop,’ she said, ‘and a lesson in letting go.’

  Even when she disappeared, Freddie stayed in the garden of light, listening and watching. He was aware of gold around him, gold that flowed like fabric. It drifted, then became still, and he saw a man in a saffron robe, a man he’d seen in Tessa’s paintings. The man had humour and wisdom in his dark eyes. Freddie listened attentively. ‘You have only to remember the way you communicated with Tessa, long before she could talk,’ the man spoke softly, almost in a whisper. ‘Send the love. Send the welcome. And she will come home.’

  Jonti startled them both out of the trance. He barked, leapt off Kate’s lap and ran to the door, his tail wagging the whole of his small body. Freddie and Kate looked at each other with hope in their eyes. ‘Let him out.’ Kate got up from the stairs and opened the front door. Jonti shot out, his paws hardly touching the ground. He flew down the road under the elm trees, his ears flying back, his mouth smiling as he ran to welcome the girl he loved.

  Tessa came in looking tired, with Jonti in her arms. ‘He’s soaking wet,’ she said. ‘He was coming through the puddles like a speedboat.’ She took Jonti’s towel from its hook, stood the happy little dog on the kitchen table, dried him thoroughly, and gave him a Bonio biscuit.

  ‘You’re soaking wet as well,’ Kate said, touching Tessa’s hair which hung in curls over her shoulders.

  Freddie looked at Tessa’s eyes. ‘We’re – glad you came home,’ he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

  Tessa seemed overwhelmed. Her face sparkled with raindrops, and Freddie sensed her defensiveness softening in response to his welcome. He sensed a momentous change in Tessa’s mindset. ‘Where were you?’ he asked nervously.

  ‘Did something happen with Lucy?’ Kate asked.

  Tessa shrugged. ‘Lucy – oh, it doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry – I kind of panicked. I went to the station and bought a ticket to Taunton.’

  ‘Taunton! Whatever did you want to go there for?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Tessa said, ‘because the train was late, twenty minutes, Charlie said. I stood on the platform looking up at Lexi’s fields, and I saw Selwyn. She raised her head and looked at me, and I’m sure she knew it was me, even from a distance. She stood there tossing her mane and whinnying. She sort of . . . rescued me, like I rescued her. So I abandoned the train idea and went up to Lexi’s place. We brought Selwyn in because she hates the rain, and I rubbed her down and gave her a bran mash.’

  Kate beamed. ‘That’s my girl!’ she said. ‘Horses are great teachers.’

  ‘So is Mrs Appleby,’ Tessa said. ‘I’ve been thinking, and I really do want to go there – so – thanks – thanks, Mum and Dad for – for believing in me. I won’t let you down.’

  Freddie gave Kate a secret smile. They both knew it was the first time in Tessa’s life that she had spontaneously said thank you.

  ‘It won’t be easy,’ Freddie warned.

  ‘I know that, Dad. But I’m a warrior!’

  ‘I’m in love with her, Mum,’ Tessa said as the two of them stood close to Selwyn in Lexi’s yard. She was brushing Selwyn’s dappled grey coat in long firm strokes, and the horse was clearly enjoying it. But if Kate tried to touch her, Selwyn made a face, laying her ears back, and tossing her silver mane.

  ‘I’ve never not been able to make friends with a horse,’ Kate said, disappointed. ‘I’m sure if I spent time with her she’d learn to trust me.’

  ‘She might, Mum – or she might not,’ Tessa said. ‘Lexi’s tried everything with her; she’s been really kind, but Selwyn is afraid to give her trust in case it means she has to be ridden again. I talk to Selwyn a lot, and I’ve promised never to ride her, even if I want to – which I do.’

  ‘You’ve done a wonderful thing for her,’ Kate said. ‘Lexi is so pleased. But – don’t break your heart over her, dear. What if Lexi has to sell her?’

  ‘She won’t,’ Tessa said fiercely.

  ‘But . . .’ The words died on Kate’s lips when she saw the passion in her daughter’s eyes.

  ‘She definitely won’t,’ repeated Tessa, and she went on brushing Selwyn, lifting the fronds of her cream mane to groom underneath. She could feel the mare’s anxiety about Kate being there.

  Tessa was to start at Hilbegut School the following day, and Kate had insisted on walking up to Lexi’s place with her. Tessa wanted to be alone, but she knew her mother was upset about Lucy so she tried to compensate by being a normal kind of daughter.

  ‘I was in love with a horse once,’ Kate said.

  ‘Daisy?’

  ‘Yes, Daisy – but she wasn’t difficult like Selwyn. She was easy to love.’

  ‘Selwyn isn’t difficult, and you shouldn’t say that when she’s listening,’ Tessa said. ‘She picks it up, Mum. She’s hypersensitive, like me. She didn’t start out being difficult. She was a willing and brilliant showjumper. Then she hurt her back.’

  ‘I know,’ Kate said, ‘but it’s you I’m concerned about, dear. I want you to REALLY fall in love one day.’ Her eyes brightened with the thought. ‘You’re still young, but I hope with all my heart that you’ll fall in love with one of those handsome boys at Hilbegut. A nice boy, from a good family.’

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘But it’s important,’ Kate said sadly. ‘Look at Lucy.’

  ‘I’ve been looking at Lucy all my life, Mum. And she told me what happened – about the baby.’

  ‘Our grandchild,’ Kate said bitterly, and to Tessa’s alarm she began to sob uncontrollably.

  ‘Mum! I’ve never seen you cry like this.’ Tessa put Selwyn’s brush down. She steered Kate towards the hay barn and sat her down on some bales of hay. Jonti sat between them, whining and looking up at Kate. Tessa put her arms around Kate, feeling the hard knots of tension across her shoulders. Suddenly she felt like the adult, comforting a child, and she felt the helplessness of not knowing what to say. She looked up at the shining figure of her grandfather, Bertie, standing close. He put a finger to his lips and shook his head. Silence, he was telling her. Loving silence is best.

  So Tessa kept quiet, her cheek against Kate’s hair. She noticed the threads of grey glinting in the sun, and the gleam of a few teardrops that had fallen onto Kate’s neat brown shoes. She felt the sobs, like earthquakes, shaking her mother’s solid body. She let her cry all of her tears.

  Kate sat up, drying her face with a small embroidered hanky. ‘Don’t tell your Daddy,’ she said, looking into Tessa’s eyes. ‘He’s upset enough, without me adding to it.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Tessa said, and she looked up again at Bertie, surprised to see a tiny baby in his arms. The baby was sleeping peacefully, wrapped in a white crocheted shawl that Tessa had seen before, somewhere. Lucy’s baby. Lucy’s child. She longed to tell Kate. But Bertie shook his head. They both knew what the reaction would be.

  ‘I did so want to be a Granny,’ Kate said, ‘even – if it was illegitimate, I’d still love it.’

  The spirits of Bertie and the precious baby melted into the shimmering air as if curtains of gauze and silk had swung over them.

  Kate looked at Tessa with passion in her eyes. ‘Don’t go off with that hippie,’ she pleaded. ‘Try and made a decent life for yourself – please try and get through school, Tessa. I want to see you happily married to a n
ice man one day. Promise me you’ll try.’

  Tessa sighed. ‘I’ll try,’ she said, and added another load to the emotional baggage she was already carrying. And the dream of finding Art grew ever brighter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  1963

  GIRLS IN BLACK

  Tessa leaned out of her window to watch Freddie drive away in his new mink-brown Rover 90. She caught a glimpse of his blue eyes, full of emotion, seeking the last contact with her from under his cap. He didn’t smile. She stood in the window with mixed feelings, watching the back of his car getting smaller and smaller. At the end of the long drive it turned left, accelerated, and was finally gone. I’m alone, she thought, alone in the world.

  ‘This is like a blimin’ rabbit hutch!’ Freddie had said when they’d arrived and found the low, black-timbered huts of an old army barracks, now converted into students’ bedrooms. Tessa had found his comment funny, and endearing. She imagined her mother laughing when Freddie got home and said that.

  A sense of euphoria swept over her when she turned to look at her room. It was small. The narrow bed against the wall was covered by a blanket with arty splodges of subtle colour. The floor had yellow lino which gave it a sunny feel. There was a slim white wardrobe, chest of drawers, and an oval mirror set in a recess with a square of Formica top and a tubular, canvas chair. Along the wall over the bed was a high shelf which seemed like a gift. This is my place, Tessa thought joyfully. I can do what I like!

  She threw herself on the bed, propped her feet against the wall, and lay looking at the ceiling of Room 11 in Hut 5, planning how she would cover it with her postcard collection and her pictures of Selwyn. She listened to the sounds of other girls arriving, and decided to fix her hair first. She undid her suitcase and pulled out some narrow ribbons, choosing purple, turquoise, and lime green. Her hairbrush was right at the bottom so she tipped everything onto the bed in a chaotic heap, then sat on the canvas chair in front of the mirror. Separating one strand of her chestnut hair, she divided it into three, and plaited the ribbons into it, making a long, multi-coloured braid on one side of her head. It made her look interesting, and different, she hoped, and the turquoise complemented her pale blue eyes. She found the little tie-dyed make-up bag she’d made at Hilbegut, and applied silver eyeshadow and midnight blue mascara.

  Kate had insisted that she arrived ‘looking respectable’. Freedom! she thought, and tore off the Donegal tweed skirt and hand-knitted sweater that Annie had made in maroon red, a colour Tessa loathed. She flung them up to hit the ceiling, like wild escaping mallards, and stuffed them under the bed, right into the far corner. She put on her new black jeans, and one of Freddie’s old shirts which she had tie-dyed in purple.

  Leaving everything in a heap, she strolled outside, feeling like an art student and hoping she looked cool and experienced. Discreetly observing more students arriving with fussing parents, Tessa headed for a group of lofty elm trees that shaded the lawn. She touched them and gazed up into the bushy branches. The leaves were old and bottle green at this end of summer, and deeper into the garden was a sumach tree already turning fiery pink and orange, its blade-like leaves flickering like flames. Tessa had never seen a sumach tree and she sat down under it, then lay on her back, hypnotised by the fire of its colour against the blue sky. What a feast for an artist, she thought.

  ‘Excuse me, are you in Room 11?’ said a voice.

  Tessa sat up, and saw a girl with a wide smile that reached the tips of the two curls in her perfect shining bell of dark hair. She had eyes greener than Somerset. ‘Hiya mate. I’m Jen, from London – and I’m next door to you in Room 10. I dig the shirt! And the braid. You look like an interesting character.’

  Tessa beamed. ‘Hiya!’

  ‘What’s yer name?’

  ‘Tessa.’

  ‘Want a coffee? We’re making a brew up. Come and join us. Got yer mug unpacked? I can lend you one if you haven’t.’ Jen talked fast, moving her mouth extravagantly, and she hardly gave Tessa space to reply before gabbling on to her next thought. ‘What d’ya think of this place? Right dump, in’t it? Out in the bloody back of beyond. Gives me the creeps. All them flipping trees and green fields. Boring, aren’t they? Come on then – Tessa – you coming or not?’

  ‘If you want me to.’

  ‘Course I want you to, ya ’nana. Come on.’ Jen stretched out a wiry white arm and pulled Tessa to her feet. ‘Cor, you’re tall. You could be a model. Where are you from?’

  ‘Monterose – in Somerset.’

  Fascinated, Tessa walked with Jen into Hut 5. At the end of the hut was a room with a row of boiling rings, a fridge, kettle and two irons. Jen put five mugs on a tray. ‘You shovel coffee, and I’ll do the milk,’ she said, handing Tessa a teaspoon.

  ‘All five?’ asked Tessa.

  ‘Yeah, I said – we’re having a brew up.’

  Tessa carried the laden tray down to Jen’s room, slightly nervous about meeting the other three girls. Years of being a loner and getting pushed out of peer groups at school had made her socially anxious. She still hadn’t found a real friend, even at Hilbegut. The girls there had been mostly from rich families and talked about exotic holidays abroad, shopping in London, and boyfriends. Tessa had kept the boys at arm’s length, much to her mother’s dismay.

  ‘Coffee up! This is Tessa. She’s my mate next door in Room 11,’ Jen said. ‘Come on, move up, you two.’

  Two girls sat on the bed, their backs against the wall. ‘Mel and Noni,’ said Jen, ‘and this is Faye.’

  Mel and Noni smiled at Tessa, and she sat down on the bed. They couldn’t have been more different. Mel was plump, bright-eyed and reassuring. She didn’t look at all like an art student. Noni was tiny, with chicken-bone wrists covered in silver bangles. Her face was old, her eyes calm and mysterious.

  Faye was sitting on an orange cushion on the floor. She didn’t smile, but glanced shrewdly at Tessa, the whites of her eyes huge and dramatic, looking out from caves of heavy black eyeliner and mascara. Her mouth was surly and her cheeks hollow.

  ‘Faye’s on the other side of you, in Room 12,’ Jen said, ‘and she’s got a flipping great cello in there. I hope you like music, Tessa!’

  Tessa wasn’t sure what a cello was, so she kept quiet, exchanging hostile stares with Faye. She looks like an insect, Tessa thought, ready to sting! She felt Faye’s eyes raking her over, criticising every detail of her clothes, her hair, her face. She remembered that Faye had been sitting alone under the elm trees, smoking, and watching her arrive in Freddie’s Rover 90, smirking at everything they unloaded, especially her brand new BSA bike, and her mother’s personalised leather suitcase with Oriole Kate Loxley embossed on the lid.

  ‘Have you got your letter, Tessa?’ Jen said as they tucked in to Mel’s chocolate-coated digestives and fig rolls.

  ‘What letter?’

  ‘It’s got your grant cheque in it – and your timetable, and what group you’re in. It should be in your room.’

  Tessa fetched the smooth white envelope from her room and sat down again on Jen’s bed. She tore it open. Inside was a cheque from Somerset County Council for £1,300. She stared at it with round eyes.

  ‘Your face!’ Jen laughed. ‘It’s a lot, isn’t it? But it’s got to last you a whole year, and you have to buy all your art materials with it – and clothes – and travel –’

  ‘We’re going to Bath tomorrow to get black duffle coats,’ Mel said. ‘Want to come? We’re hitching.’

  ‘Hitching? What’s that?’ Tessa asked.

  Faye looked at her scathingly.

  ‘Where’ve you been all your life?’ Jen asked, but her green eyes were kind and humorous. ‘Hitchhiking. You stand at the side of the road, stick your thumb out, and someone stops and gives you a lift, especially if you look like a student. That’s why we need black duffle coats and college scarves. I can see we’re gonna have to educate you, Tessa! – But don’t look so worried, we’ll look after you, won’t we girls?’
>
  Everyone smiled, except Faye, who now looked bored and was picking threads out of the knee of her black tights, and winding them tightly round her finger.

  ‘So what group are you in, Tessa?’ Mel asked.

  Tessa unfolded her letter which was on Bath Academy of Art headed paper. She glared at it. ‘There must be a mistake,’ she said. ‘They’ve put me in the Photography Group. I don’t want to do THAT!’

  ‘Yeah, we’ve all got the same issues,’ said Jen. ‘I’m in the Textiles group and I can’t stand sewing. If God wants to punish me when he gets me up there, he’ll sit me down with a needle and thread.’

  ‘We’re in Ceramics,’ said Mel, ‘and I’ve never made a pot in my life.’

  ‘Give it here.’ Jen took Tessa’s letter out of her hand and scanned it with her green eyes. ‘It’s not just Photography – you’re in Painting as well – same as me – and look, you’ve got three subsidiaries – Calligraphy – what the heck’s that?’

  ‘Lettering,’ Tessa said. ‘I HATE lettering.’

  ‘. . . and Sculpture,’ continued Jen, ‘and Visual Communication – we’ve all got that.’

  Tessa could feel her face going hot. I’ve been here an hour, she thought, and they’re telling me what to do. She stuffed the anger into the far corner of her mind, aware that Faye’s big eyes were watching her in a calculating way. Waiting to see her fall apart.

  ‘You’ve got to go along with it,’ Jen said. ‘We’re first years – the lowest of the low – and it’s only work, Tessa. The rest of it’s going to be fun.’

  ‘Fun?’ Tessa felt herself disappearing into a familiar black hole. ‘Fun’ was another word that clicked her defences into place. Fun meant failure. Fun meant rejection.

  ‘Don’t worry, Tessa.’ Mel looked at her with kind, bright eyes. ‘We’ll look after you. We’re all in the same boat.’

  ‘Yeah – you stick with us and you’ll be okay,’ said Jen. ‘Here y’are – have another biscuit.’