Beth bravely faced the stranger, rather like a small tortoiseshell kitten, hair bristling with fear, prepared to fight tooth and claw to protect her territory. ‘We’re not gentry of any sort, as a matter of fact. Just as this is more of a farm than a grand house. But we do object, very strongly, to having our home invaded without our permission.’ She felt Sarah’s tug at her sleeve but resolutely ignoring her hisses to be silent, ploughed on. ‘I would very much like to know how you got in.’
The man’s eyes slid across to Sarah, roving over her body with audacious boldness. It was as if he had stripped it bare and personally fondled the taut peaks of her breasts, slid his hands into the warmth of her panties. His lips curled into a knowing grin as he watched her aristocratic brow lift with interested disdain. ‘Larder window, as a matter of fact. Loose catch.’
‘And all those bloody weeks begging for a key,’ Sarah drily remarked, giving a spurt of laughter.
‘I shall see that it’s mended forthwith,’ Beth steadfastly informed the stranger. ‘And if you were planning on returning, I’m sorry to disappoint you but this house is occupied and we’d much rather you left. Now.’ The open hunger of his gaze upon Sarah was making her feel quite angry. Beth held open the back door, chin tilted in brave defiance.
The man didn’t move. He simply leaned against the door frame and smiled insolently at her. ‘Would you indeed?’
‘I’m sure you can find another squat somewhere.’ If that is the best you can hope for, her tone implied.
‘Do you intend to see me off the premises with your own fair hands? Or will you set your friend on me instead?’ His eyes, almost black, ran over her with that same all encompassing glance, entirely sensual and provocative, lips curled in suggestive seduction. Beth stifled a shiver while Sarah merely laughed.
He held a string in one hand, the end of which was attached to a decrepit looking black and white dog. The very same who had barked at them through the window. The dog’s presence made Beth hold on to her patience a while longer.
The young man’s face had a craggy, lean and hungry look to it, badly in need of a shave. He wore a printed shirt, dirty waistcoat and tight sailcloth trousers that flared out at the hem over what might have been wooden clogs. A red bandanna circled his forehead and his dark, straggly hair looked in dire need of a good wash. But there was a vital, sexual energy about him that she could tell Sarah found utterly compelling. His potent attraction was a blatant declaration of his success with women which made Beth feel uneasy. She brought her chin up higher, refusing to be bullied, not in her own house.
‘Take no notice of my little sister,’ Sarah said, coming forward, a brilliant smile curving her lips, one hand outstretched. ‘Works too hard. Bit touchy at the moment.’
He ignored the hand, keeping his thumbs hooked into his waistband. ‘Should never do that. Work is bad for you.’
‘I agree.’
A long moment passed while the two openly assessed each other and Beth’s discomfort grew. Then a second young man appeared and she felt her stomach turn right over. For the first time in her life Beth knew what it was to experience desire. It raged through her like a forest fire, leaving her limp.
He was perfectly beautiful, and with a superb body. Like a Michelangelo sculpture. Patrician nose, chiselled features, olive skin and the most heavenly blue eyes. Like cornflowers in a golden meadow, she thought poetically. Every line of his body was perfect from the tips of his black hair curling upon his collar, glossy as a raven’s wing as it shone in a shaft of sunlight, right down to the gleaming leather of his polished boots. He carried about him a serenity and confidence that was quite mesmeric, yet at the same time managed to appear vulnerable and innocent. A writer or artist surely. A sulky angel. Beth gazed upon him entranced, astonished, and helplessly ashamed at the emotions which soared through her.
Sarah was the first to acknowledge his presence. She moved across to him, smiling in that special way she had. Beth saw the heavenly blue eyes quicken with predatory interest and she felt suddenly, desperately sick. Here we go again!
The one with the beard introduced himself as John Reynolds. ‘Most folk call me Jonty,’ he told them.
He sauntered over to the carver chair, stared defiantly at Beth then lounged in it, propping his feet on the corner of the rusty range as Sarah had previously done. Sarah herself seemed content to watch him with smiling curiosity, like a cat.
‘You seem to have made yourself at home,’ Beth remarked, rather acidly.
‘So? We live in your house, eat in your kitchen, swim in your lake. That a problem?’
She wanted to say that it was very much a problem but her tongue seemed somehow stuck to the roof of her mouth as every sense prickled with awareness of the beautiful young man by the door.
Sarah intervened. ‘Of course it isn’t a problem. Where are you heading?’
‘Wherever we fancy. This is Pietro. He doesn’t talk much. Say hello to the pretty ladies.’
All eyes turned to the silent figure who hovered by the door. Except for Beth’s. She simply couldn’t bear to look at him for fear of what he might read in her eyes. The young man inclined his head in a deep bow but said nothing.
‘Pietro? That’s Italian, isn’t it?’ Sarah asked, moving across to him. The young man nodded again.
‘Where did you two meet?’
‘On Paddington station,’ Jonty replied for him. ‘Six months ago. We’ve been hitching ever since.’
‘We see the world,’ Pietro added, breaking his silence at last as his whole body seemed suspended in motion, eyes riveted upon Sarah’s face, then moving uncertainly over to Jonty, as if asking what he should do now. Sarah flickered one humorous eyebrow.
‘Sounds good.’
‘It ees good.’
‘So now you’re here?’
‘Sì.’
‘Why the Lakes?’
‘I have the fancy to see the English Lake District. I hear it ees very beautiful. Magnifico!’
‘Indeed it is, And you must stay as long as you like. Don’t you agree, Beth?’
As Beth failed to answer, an awkward silence fell. After a moment she gathered up the used rags and headed for the door, heart beating like a mad thing. Outside, she lifted the lid of the dustbin and flung the rags inside, slamming it down with a ringing clang. She had a great longing to throw her sister in with them. Sarah’s recklessness was beyond belief. Inviting two perfect strangers, no, far-from-perfect strangers to stay as long as they liked. What was she thinking of? Was she mad? No, sex mad, Beth thought, remembering with a childish display of temper, the exchange of glances.
Well she, for one, meant to ignore them. She would refuse to speak or have anything to do with either of them. They would quickly tire of this silly game they were playing, and leave. Just thinking of the expression in Jonty Reynolds dark eyes made her blood run cold. As for the beautiful Pietro, he was as besotted with her sister as was everyone who had ever set eyes on her. Damn them all.
And I’m jealous, she thought, dismayed to find tears running down her cheeks.
Chapter Six
Beth’s agony was far from over. The next afternoon Sarah decided they should make the most of the good weather and have a picnic. She dispatched Beth to make sandwiches, collect rugs and take them up to the tarn in the yellow mini. Tessa was only too willing to help since she could then meet the naked bodies in the flesh, as it were.
James crawled about the grass, gurgling with delight in between crunching buttercups. The sun sparkled on the tarn, a blue sky streaked with feather duster clouds, a flock of pied wagtails flitting from rock to rock with lively exuberance.
Sarah sat with Jonty on a blanket, feeding him slices of apple. It made Beth shudder to see how his eyes appraised her sister with candid greed, then open his mouth for more fruit, his tongue flicking out to caress her fingertips as he took each morsel from her. Yet she couldn’t tear her eyes from noting every sensual gesture.
Beth was all too aw
are that she wasn’t the only one fascinated by this erotic ritual. Pietro, his head close to Tessa’s, giggling like children as they watched an army of ants collect crumbs and stagger back with their prize to a nest beneath a large stone, would turn his head from time to time, and gaze longingly in the direction of the absorbed pair. That look somehow pierced Beth to the heart, making her feel more insignificant than ever. And to her utter shame, the jealousy burned all the fiercer.
She felt quite unable to speak to anyone, enduring the picnic with what good grace she could muster, while her mind busily churned over the problem.
How could Sarah cheapen herself in such a way?
They knew nothing about these squatters, nothing at all. Why had they come? How long did they intend to stay? And what would make them leave? No solution presented itself and Beth fell into a deep and uncharacteristic sulk.
What a terrible person I’m becoming, she thought, and sighing, she kicked at a stone, watching glumly as it rolled down the bank to splash into the sparkling waters of the tarn.
Worse, how could she start work on the house, let alone move in, with squatters living on site? She did not relish the idea one bit.
‘Let’s swim,’ Sarah shouted, and in seconds had stripped off her jeans to reveal a blue bikini which left little to the imagination. She plunged in, squealing when the cold water hit her bare stomach. ‘Come on, you softies,’ she yelled, gasping for breath and laughing at the same time. ‘If I can do it, you can.’
‘We haven’t got a dinky little swimsuit,’ Jonty told her, mouth twisting into a wry smile.
Sarah gurgled with delight. ‘What the hell? We’ve already seen most of what you’ve got.’ And laughed all the more at their startled expressions.
The confession was quickly made and Beth was forced to close her eyes as Jonty suddenly stood up, pulled off his T-shirt and dropped his trousers. She could feel her cheeks burning and didn’t dare look until she heard the splash of water. Then her gaze slid to Pietro. Would he do the same? She felt a sad sense of despair at the way his beautiful eyes seemed to darken as he watched her sister and Jonty splash each other.
A moment later he stripped down to a pair of white shorts and ran in to join them. Something inside of Beth lurched with pain.
Tessa picked up James and followed at a more leisurely pace, calling laughingly back to her. ‘Are you coming?’
Beth shook her head.
‘It’s hot. Do you good.’
‘I’m fine.’
Tessa smiled. ‘Suit yourself.’ She touched the baby’s nose gently with her own. ‘Come on, cherub. We’ll have a wee plodge in the shallows, shall we?’
Beth struggled to keep her interest on the baby who gurgled with delight as the water lapped over his chubby toes. But her eyes kept slipping away, fastening with deep and shaming misery upon the two young men as they splashed and chased Sarah, making her squeal and scream, revelling as she always did in an excess of male attention.
Lying on her back in the sun, desperately struggling to close her ears to the merriment and her mind to the implications, Beth started when she found Pietro had come out of the water to join her. He shook himself like a dog, flicked back the long black locks, and flung himself down beside her.
‘You no like to swim?’
‘Not today, thanks. But don’t let me stop you. I’m quite happy here.’ Her voice was admirably cool but his presence beside her made her feel oddly light headed.
‘Those two are swimming,’ he said, glaring fiercely out across the water where Sarah and Jonty were racing each other in an unprepossessing crawl. ‘I sit here with you, sì? You don’t mind?’
He couldn’t bear to see them together, she thought, any more than she could bear to watch Pietro with her sister. She could almost feel his gaze burning up the distance between them, wishing Jonty elsewhere almost as badly as she did, if for a different reason. ‘No, of course not. I don’t mind at all,’ she assured him with forced brightness. The urge to do something completely crazy like lean against his broad shoulder, or reach up and kiss his pale pink lips, was almost overpowering. She shifted a few inches away and closed her eyes in quiet despair. Did he think that by sitting with her he made everything right. As if she didn’t realise that really he only longed to be back in the water with Sarah. Then he turned his blue gaze upon her and smilingly made her agony worse.
‘Your sister, she is the beauty, yes?’
‘Yes,’ Beth sighed, smiling quietly. ‘She has always been that.’
‘It troubles you?’
‘Not really,’ she admitted. ‘It’s good to see her happy.’ And she did feel that, deep down, really she did. Sarah had not been herself lately and was in sore need of a holiday. They may not be particularly close but she had agreed to give up the chance of Venice for her sake. Shame washed through Beth at the thought, cleansing away the hot jealousy and leaving her feeling drained and guilty. ‘She is very supportive. I really don’t know how I would manage without her.’
‘And you are happy?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ She was, truly she was. If only sometimes she could get out from under her sister’s shadow, or borrow some of Sarah’s effervescent charm.
‘You have the boyfriend, back home in America?’
Panic hit her. She really didn’t want to talk about Jeremy. He was finished, over and done with. ‘No, I’m too busy right now.’
‘But I think you are the sweet and charming one.’
Beth looked up at him, startled. ‘You do?’
He gave a soft chuckle, kissed the tip of his middle finger then placed it on her slightly parted lips. ‘I do,’ he whispered, and his breath on her face sent fresh quivers of longing right down her spine.
‘Oh,’ was all she could manage. For what seemed a lifetime she gazed into his eyes and saw surprise register in their blueness. Did he feel as she did? Would he kiss her? He turned abruptly from her.
‘Come. I teach you to dive, sì?’
‘Oh, I’m not sure, Pietro. Really I…’
‘Do not fear. I will hold you safe.’
Before she knew what was happening, Beth had slipped out of her frock, revealing a modest one piece bathing costume and he was taking her hand and running her down into the water. It was the most glorious moment of her life.
The next morning Sarah slept late, then took a leisurely bath, her long hair casually knotted on top of her head, soaping her beautiful body as though there was all the time in the world.
‘We’d agreed to start stripping the walls at Larkrigg today. Wouldn’t it be more sensible to take your bath after we’ve finished the day’s work?’
Sarah screwed up her nose and sank deeper into the hot bubbles. ‘You’re becoming a bore, sweet sister.’
Beth swallowed a burst of impatience. ‘How long are we going to let them stay?’
‘Do we have to decide now? Let’s take things as they come.’
‘But...’
‘Not now, Beth.’
In the days following, the two uninvited guests made no move to leave and Sarah was clearly revelling in their attentions. She took them food, begged some old blankets off Sally Ann, flirted outrageously with them both and spent hours wandering off alone with Jonty.
Beth didn’t care to imagine what her twin got up to on those walks, though it worried her enormously. Sarah was so reckless. Often the whole group of them would go, Tessa and Pietro too, but Beth always refused, excusing herself on the grounds that she had work to do on the house. But then, perversely, she would resent it when they took her at her word and left her. All she could do then was try not to think about them, or her sister.
At other times Beth would do her best to join in and not be a spoilsport. Sarah would plan barbecues or pasta parties, borrow Beth’s best shoes or favourite perfume, and they’d try on each other’s clothes and giggle together as true sisters should. But she couldn’t help worrying, and again ventured to express her concern.
‘Do be carefu
l you don’t start getting too keen on this Jonty person.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said…’
‘I doubt it’s any of your business:’
‘He’s only using you, Sarah. Show some sense. Behave yourself.’
‘How should I behave? All standoffish like you? It’s a free country. I can do what I like. We’re like chalk and cheese, you and I. Life’s fun, why not enjoy it?’ She smiled challengingly at her twin. ‘I’m a big girl now.’
‘They’ll be off on their travels soon. What happens then? You haven’t ... ?’
‘Haven’t what?’
‘You know.’
‘Had sex you mean?’ The chin came up and the blue eyes grew hard as sapphires. ‘What if I said yes?’
‘Then I’d say you were an even greater fool than I imagined.’
‘It really isn’t any of your business, Miss Butter-Wouldn’t-Melt. Be honest, you’d give your soul for the gorgeous Pietro to ravish you.’
Beth flushed bright red. ‘Don’t talk rubbish,’ and flounced off to expend her frustrated energy scrubbing sinks.
Sarah followed, chortling with delight. ‘You spend enough time talking to him. Don’t deny it.’
‘He likes to practise his English. Besides, he’s different from Jonty.’
‘How different?’
‘He’s kind and thoughtful, doesn’t take advantage of people.’
‘You’re jealous.’
Beth savagely attacked the worn stonework of the sink with her scrubbing brush. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s a simple friendship, that’s all.’ In truth, friendship was too strong a word. Beth couldn’t quite make him out. He seemed oddly restrained, almost secretive at times, perhaps rather shy like herself, which made conversation strained and difficult.
At other times he would readily offer to help her clean windows, or scrape paper off the walls, telling her how wonderfully clever she was to decorate a big house by herself. Though he never did very much, at least he offered. No one else ever thought to, so Beth appreciated his kindness.
Larkrigg Fell Page 7