The silence is absolute, and Tilly blushes a bright pink. She feels a complete fool; she can’t imagine what has made her speak out in front of everyone. She doesn’t dare look at Clem. But Jakey, watching her, feels an instinctive sympathy for her. It is as if Tilly is another child who has said something silly in front of the grown-ups and he wants to comfort her, to show solidarity. He gets up and goes to her and stands beside her.
‘Are you really going to live at Chi-Meur?’ he asks. ‘We’re going back to the Lodge soon. Couldn’t you have a dog there? Daddy says we could have a dog if someone would look after it while I’m at school and he’s at work. Oh.’ His eyes widen and begin to shine. ‘If you were there you could look after the dog for us.’ A better idea seizes his imagination. ‘We could share it.’ He turns to Clem. ‘We could, couldn’t we, Daddy?’
Clem, staring at him, thinks: this could be the connection. This could be the thing that could bring the three of us together. Walks with the dog on the cliffs, down to the beach …
‘Well,’ he says, ‘it’s certainly a thought. Remember, though, we can’t go back to the Lodge until the summer. But if Tilly thinks she could help out…’
‘I’d have to live in at the house for my job,’ says Tilly quickly. ‘But I’m sure we could manage a dog between us.’
She glances anxiously at Clem, who is watching her with that secret amused look, and she blushes again.
‘But,’ she adds, facing him down, ‘I might not get the job. My application has to go before the Chapter meeting.’
‘Oh, I think you’ll get it,’ he says. ‘I am invited to Chapter. Sister Emily and I will be rooting for you.’
Alec leans forward. ‘And remember what I told you about the S. E. E.,’ he murmurs in her ear.
‘We’ll have a dog,’ crows Jakey to Harry.
‘And don’t forget, mate,’ says Harry, ‘that I shall be back in the summer to go to college. I’ll bring Bessie over to see you all when I come home for weekends.’
At these last few words Dom catches Billa’s eye and they smile at each other. Alec sees the look of happiness that passes between them. Ed sits contentedly sipping his tea. His eyes, though fixed on Jakey, have a faraway look as if he is in another world, making his own story, about another boy, perhaps. Tilly is laughing and Clem raises his teacup to her. Jakey is already discussing the merits of particular dog breeds with Harry.
Alec sits back in his chair. He feels very much at home, as if, in these latter days, he has found another family, quite different from his own: disparate, unusual, but united by threads of the many different kinds of love. Now, Tilly is explaining about the job, which Clem seems to know more about than she does, and there is a general sense of optimism and wellbeing. Billa asks questions about the accommodation and Clem is explaining why the salary is not very high, given the responsibility of the job.
‘But if it’s all found,’ Dom says, ‘if accommodation and food is free, then you can add quite a bit to that.’
‘The important thing,’ says Ed, who has been roused from his reverie, ‘is that Tilly is happy and working with people she likes.’
‘Hear, hear,’ says Alec.
‘And she’ll be able to sneak out,’ says Harry enviously, ‘and go surfing.’
‘And we’ll have a dog,’ says Jakey firmly, lest this crucial fact should be forgotten in the excitement.
‘What sort of dog shall we have, Jakey?’ asks Tilly recklessly, wondering exactly how a dog will fit in with her new duties and hoping the nuns are animal-lovers. ‘A Newfoundland like Bear? Or a golden retriever like Bessie? Or a Labrador like Hercules?’
Jakey eats a second sausage roll as he reflects on the subject.
‘Not a Newfoundland,’ says Clem firmly. ‘Much too big.’
Instantly Jakey looks at Tilly, sensing she will be his ally. Tilly winks at him, shrugs.
‘They are a bit big,’ she says. ‘Very boisterous when they’re young. He might pull you over.’
Jakey nods judicially, letting everyone see that it’s his decision. ‘OK,’ he says.
‘It will require much thought,’ says Dom. ‘You might find a very nice rescue dog. Try the Cinnamon Trust. That’s where I found Bessie.’
‘I’ve got The Observer’s Book of Dogs in my study,’ says Ed to Jakey. ‘Would you like to see it?’
Jakey is off his chair in an instant; he runs round the table and grabs Tilly’s hand.
‘Come on,’ he says, and he and Tilly and Ed go out together.
‘“May I get down, please?”,’ mutters Clem under his breath, anxious that Jakey has not asked permission to leave the table but deciding not to make an issue of it.
‘Typical Ed,’ says Billa, cutting cake. ‘Books first, food second. Sorry, Clem. Not a good example for Jakey.’
‘It doesn’t matter now and again,’ says Clem. He sees that Dom is looking at him rather quizzically and wonders what Tilly’s godfather is making of him. ‘I’m sure Tilly will be happy at Chi-Meur,’ he says reassuringly. ‘The Sisters are very flexible and things tend to happen organically. I think she’ll enjoy it.’
‘I wasn’t fearing for Tilly,’ says Dom. ‘I was just wondering if they know what they’re taking on. I warn you that Tilly gets very enthusiastic about her work.’
‘Just what we need,’ says Clem cheerfully. ‘I’ll tell them that at Chapter tomorrow.’
‘You do that,’ says Dom affably, ‘and I look forward to seeing the experiment unfold. But perhaps I won’t invite anyone else to stay in Mr Potts’ bedroom. Not just yet.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sarah hangs the washing out in the small paved courtyard behind the cottage. From where she stands, looking down the valley, she can see the village gardens where magnolias and camellias are in flower: cloudy shapes of cream and pink. The cottages huddle together, like old friends gossiping in the shelter of the small, steep fields where sheep are grazing, and she can hear the lambs’ high thin cries as they jostle and butt at their mothers’ flanks, nuzzling for milk.
She stands for a moment, the laundry basket at her feet, enjoying the sunshine and feeling calmer. Now that she and Dave have agreed to take on the house in Yelverton, and the move is going forward, a sense of peace has enveloped her. Dave is delighted that she and the boys will be so much nearer to the dockyard; that his journey will be so much shorter and easier. He’s talked of all the things they will do together and what fun it will be to go to the parties and social events connected with the ship that up until now have been simply impossible.
Sarah agrees with all this and says that she can’t wait to see the house. It’s odd that, knowing Tilly has got the job at Chi-Meur and that Clem and Jakey will be moving back into the Lodge in a few months’ time, things are different. Without the promotion of U-Connect to occupy her mind or the prospects of Tilly’s regular visits – not to mention Clem dropping in – it feels right to be moving on. After all, U-Connect can be set up anywhere; that is the beauty of it. But, somehow, she can’t quite imagine doing it without Tilly. She’s managing to be quite upbeat with Tilly, now; much more positive about her new prospects at the retreat house. It seems churlish to be otherwise when Tilly is so excited about it all.
‘I’ve got some really good marketing ideas,’ she told Sarah, when she’d come in to discuss the final intake of new punters. ‘I can see how we can target two separate groups. The couples or single people who come on what Sister Emily calls Holy Holidays and the others who come in a group on led retreats. We can have a different approach for each of them, make it much more focused. I’ve been googling other retreat houses, looking at their websites and the things that they’re doing. For instance, Epiphany House in Cornwall produces a lovely House Programme of events for the year. Things like that make such a difference.’
It becomes clear that Clem is going to be closely involved in these new plans and Sarah has managed to steer clear of any pointed remarks about their proximity once Tilly moves int
o the Priest’s Flat and Clem is back in the Lodge. In fact, Tilly hasn’t spoken of any personal aspect of the relationship apart from casually mentioning a dogs’ tea party with the St Enedocs and Sir Alec Bancroft, to which Clem and Jakey were invited. She seems more concerned by the fact that Harry will be leaving them very soon and how much she’ll miss him.
Sarah’s attention is caught by a bluetit who is examining the nest box that Sarah’s mother fixed to a holly tree on the boundary hedge years ago. He pecks at the rough wooden edging around the hole for a moment before disappearing inside. Presently his cross little face can be seen peering out and then he flies away. Sarah wonders if he’s pleased with it or whether he considers it too dingy; too small. Maybe he’ll return with his mate and they’ll discuss the merits of raising their family in it.
Rather like me and Dave going to Yelverton, she thinks.
The thought amuses her and she picks up the laundry basket and goes back indoors. It is dark inside after the brightness of the garden and she decides that it will be rather nice to live in big, light rooms with tall windows and high ceilings. She sits at the table in the kitchen and picks up the details of the Victorian house in Yelverton, which the owners have sent to her. She looks again at the room measurements and considers which bedroom will be right for Ben; she checks the little study that she can use for her next experiment with U-Connect. It raises her spirits to be planning like this and she wishes that Dave was with her, sharing his natural enthusiasm for any new project.
The owners are another naval couple, submariners moving to Faslane for two years, and they are leaving the house furnished. Sarah is quite pleased that she and Dave won’t have the expense of new furniture but slightly disappointed that once again they will be living with other people’s choice.
‘Much better to wait until we can afford to buy our own place,’ Dave says.
And he’s right, of course, and at least the move will be very straightforward. Their personal belongings won’t take much packing and Dave has already decided that he’ll hire a small van and move the whole lot in one journey.
Sarah pulls her laptop towards her and switches it on. It’s time to do some work before George wakes and wants his bottle.
* * *
Harry, too, is planning his departure. It’s not too painful because he knows he’ll be back soon and, anyway, they’ve all been here before. When he was reading Geology at Oxford everyone got used to him appearing at short notice and then dashing away again. The really good thing about Dom and Billa and Ed is that they don’t fuss about him; they don’t attempt to pin him down. They always welcome him, and any friends he likes to bring along, and this makes him very much more inclined to want to see them. His friends love the whole scene and consider Harry to be very lucky to have such a bolt hole. Indeed, some of his university friends still occasionally visit Dom, staying in Mr Potts’ bedroom, having a weekend surfing or walking and going to the pub.
As he gathers his belongings, brings out his bags, Harry feels rather pleased with himself. It seems that Tilly will be sorted out after all. The dogs’ tea party was a great idea and things have moved on pretty quickly. She’s got the job at the retreat house and seems to be much more relaxed with Clem: they look all set to get it together.
‘Thanks, Hal,’ she said, hugging him before she drove off to work. ‘You’ve been fab. Don’t break a leg on the slopes and come home soon. Wait till you see my new quarters. I’ll be settled in by the time you’re back. Stay in touch.’
‘I’ll text,’ he promises. ‘And we’ll be Skyping. I shall want to know how you and Clem are shaping up. And little Jakey.’
As for Jakey … Harry smiles to himself. He’s rather touched by Jakey’s hero-worship.
On Saturday afternoon, Tilly drove him over to say goodbye to Jakey. A small party had been organized. They were going to have tea, watch Madagascar and then have a pizza supper. Jakey was so proud to be host, to organize it all. During tea he and Harry had tried to outdo each other on quotes from the film and Jakey soon discovered, to his joy, that Harry really did know it just as well as he did. At intervals one or the other would say ‘Smile and wave. Smile and wave,’ and they’d do a high-five and laugh together.
‘I wish you weren’t going,’ Jakey said at the end, looking suddenly very sad.
‘But I’ll be back before you know it, mate,’ Harry said. ‘Don’t forget I’m going to teach you to surf this summer.’
Jakey perked up a little. ‘And you said you’d send me some postcards,’ he reminded Harry.
‘For sure I will. From Geneva, and when I get back to Jo’burg.’
‘You could start them, “Hi, mate”,’ suggested Jakey rather wistfully, thinking of showing them to his friends at school and bragging about his friendship with this dazzling young man.
‘I wouldn’t start them any other way,’ Harry assured him. ‘Oh, and I’ve got you this.’
He took out a photograph that Billa had taken at the dogs’ tea party and printed off on her computer. She’d laminated it so that it wouldn’t get dirty or tear, and Jakey reached eagerly for it and studied it. He was in the centre of the photograph next to Harry and they were surrounded by the three dogs. Bear sat next to Jakey, their heads at nearly the same level, Jakey’s arm around Bear’s huge furry neck. Bessie stood beside Harry and Hercules lay in front of the group.
Jakey’s face was transformed with joy. It was everything he could desire. There he was with the god-like Harry, the enormous Bear and the two other dogs. He couldn’t wait to show it to his friends.
‘Can I keep this and take it to school?’ he asked eagerly.
‘Sure,’ said Harry. ‘It’s yours. I’ve got my own copy to show to the family back home.’
Jakey drew a deep contented breath. When the time came, he and Clem walked to the car with Tilly and Harry and watched them get in. Harry let the window down and winked at Jakey, whose mouth began to turn down at the corners.
‘No tears, mate,’ he said. ‘Remember our secret. “Smile and wave. Smile and wave.”’
Now, Harry wanders downstairs with his bags and dumps them in the hall. Dom is listening to You and Yours on Radio 4 whilst preparing an early lunch before taking Harry to the train. They eat companionably, talking about the relatives with whom Harry will be staying in Geneva and the skiing, and then the journey back to South Africa. Harry is grateful that Dom makes no fuss; Harry might be taking the train for a day out at Penzance, such is the older man’s pragmatism.
Later, as they drive though the lanes towards the A39, Dom pulls in to make room for another car coming in the opposite direction. The lane is narrow and Dom is too busy manoeuvring to take stock of the driver. Harry recognizes him, though, and raises a hand.
‘Friend of yours?’ asks Dom, pulling away.
‘It’s the chap who’s staying at the Chough,’ says Harry. ‘Christian Marr. He’s an energy consultant.’
Dom frowns, as if the name has rung some kind of bell in his mind, but Harry begins to talk about Tilly and Clem and the moment passes.
* * *
Through his rear-view mirror Tris watches the car drive away and laughs softly: it’s like an omen. He’s returning just as the boy is leaving. The timing is perfect. He is quite certain that Dom hasn’t seen him – even though he’d be unlikely to recognize him after all these years – but it doesn’t matter too much if he has, because Tris is going to make his move at last. First, he plans to get Billa and Ed alone. He suspects that they’ll be much more vulnerable, more open to his explanations about the past, without Dom around, but sooner or later he’ll have to face up to all three of them. Tris is excited. Weedhound has come up with some very special cocaine capsules and just for the moment they’re blocking out all the symptoms of the tuberculosis that is eating his lungs away. He’s on a high and ready to go.
He checks back into the Chough and is welcomed by the landlord. His little suite of rooms is clean and fresh and he unpacks, still chuckling
to himself now he’s decided to make his move. Of course, he might be wrong, and the boy and Dom are just out for a drive, but he doesn’t think so. He’d seen the bags on the back seat. Something tells him quite certainly that Harry is on his way and if Dom is driving him to the station he’ll be gone for a couple of hours; perfect.
Tris sits on the end of the bed and takes his mobile out of his pocket. He scrolls down to Billa’s number, taken from her mobile, and dials. She answers quite quickly.
‘Hi,’ he says. ‘Hi, Billa. So how are you after all this time? It’s me. It’s Tris. Hope you got my postcards. I’ve just arrived and I thought I’d pop over to see you and Ed. I’m not far away. See you very soon. ’Bye.’
He switches off and begins to laugh again. She was too shocked even to speak, apart from saying ‘Hello’. He picks up his satchel, checks for his car keys and goes out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Billa sits silent, still holding her phone.
‘Who was it?’ asks Ed.
They’ve only just finished lunch and are still at the table which as usual is strewn with books, papers; also a dark red vase of daffodils and a small camera.
‘It’s Tris,’ says Billa. ‘He’s here. He’s on his way.’
Ed gapes at her. ‘What?’
What with the dogs’ tea party, the good news about Tilly’s job and Harry’s imminent departure there hasn’t been time to think of Tris. Now, suddenly, they are back in the nightmare world of fear and speculation. What does he want?
‘We could go out,’ suggests Ed. ‘Just get in the car and go. Where was he speaking from?’
Billa shakes her head in answer to both questions. There is no point in running away and she has no idea where he is.
‘We can’t let him think he’s frightened us,’ she says. ‘And all he said was that he’d see us very soon. Damn. And Dom will be driving Harry to Bodmin Parkway by now. We’re just going to have to face him. Help me clear this lot away, Ed.’
Postcards from the Past Page 18