It was such an evening – or late afternoon – when, returning from a stroll along the beech walk, he saw Gemma hurrying across the bottom of the drive. It looked as if she had been to his cottage and, finding it empty, was going away. His feeling of disappointment that he should miss her was unbelievably sharp and he let out a loud shout which made Bertie jump. Gemma either didn’t hear or ignored the call and hurried over to where her car was parked. Guy raced down the last few yards, his feet slipping and sliding on the gravel whilst Bertie skittered from side to side, ears flattened, trying to keep out of his way. As he came level with the entrance to the Courtyard, Gemma’s little car was just backing out of the space allocated to Guy’s visitors and he ran towards her, waving his arms. Still she didn’t seem to see him but pulled away and vanished down the drive and out into the lane.
Guy stood perfectly still, a prey to several different emotions. He was confused by his disappointment and the other quite unreasonable feeling of rejection and hurt, as if she had deliberately ignored him and had been trying to avoid him. Why on earth should she come into the Courtyard if she didn’t wish to see him? He wondered if she’d put a note through his door and dashed over to his cottage, feeling in his pocket for his key. There was a note, lying on the mat; a folded piece of paper. He snatched it up and his eyes flew over it.
Dear Guy,
Just to say that I shan’t be over this holiday. I suspect that I’m a bit of a nuisance to you and you’ve been very sweet about it but I won’t bother you any more. Chris will be home for Christmas and I’ve decided that it might be more sensible to concentrate on him. We’ll still be friends, won’t we? It’s been fun.
Love, Gemma.
Guy was back out of the door in a flash, stuffing the note into his pocket, urging Bertie into the back of the car, leaping in, turning and racing down the drive with spurts of gravel flying from beneath the wheels. He knew just which way she would go and he turned the car on to the Ivybridge road and headed for Cornwood. As he drove across the moor, his brain reeled as it grappled with his thoughts. It was as though a curtain had been ripped away in his mind and he saw what an unutterable idiot he’d been. He realised that his determined adulation for Nell had blinded him to the glaringly obvious truth. He thought of the pleasure he felt when he saw Gemma, the comfort and confidence she gave him, the ease and happiness he experienced in her company. It was Gemma, the real flesh and blood girl with her teasing loving ways, that he loved; not the dream that he’d built round the ethereal Nell and which he’d persisted in keeping fixed before his eyes. Oh, yes! Nell was beautiful, vulnerable, alone. And that had woken his chivalrous tendencies and made him believe that he was in love with her. He’d been like a sixteen-year-old, infatuated by a film star; there was no reality in it. He knew, now, why he’d been unable to imagine Nell in the role of mistress and wife. As he drove, he put Gemma into the role with no difficulty at all. His heart started to pound furiously and he hit the steering wheel several times with his clenched fist.
‘Fool!’ He cursed himself aloud and Bertie cowered in the back, scrabbling to keep his balance as the car fled round corners and up hills.
He was out beyond Wotter before he saw her taillights and he drew close up behind the little hatchback and flashed his lights at her. Still she drove on without slackening her speed and finally, in desperation, he overtook her on the long stretch before Cadover Bridge. He glimpsed her startled face as he flashed past, his two offside wheels bumping over the moorland, and then he pulled in front of her car and gradually slowed down until she was obliged to stop. He was out of the car and opening her door before she had even grasped that it was him and she gave a cry of relief as he hauled her out of the car.
‘Guy! I didn’t realise it was you. I wondered whatever was going on!’
‘Why did you go away?’ he demanded, holding her shoulders and giving her a little shake. ‘Didn’t you hear me shouting to you?’
‘I left you a note,’ she said evasively, looking up at him rather shyly. She pushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘I put it through the door.’
‘I saw it,’ said Guy contemptuously. ‘Never saw such rubbish in my life.’
‘Was it rubbish?’ she asked and he bent suddenly and kissed her. His blood raced and he felt dizzy and weak and clutched her to him, her face crushed into his shoulder.
‘Absolute bloody rubbish,’ he mumbled against her hair. ‘But it was my fault. I’ve been a grade-A monumental fool.’ He swallowed hard, pushed away his instinctive urge for self-preservation and caution and spoke the simple truth. ‘I love you.’
She strained away from him, peering at him in the fast-fading light.
‘Oh, Guy. Really and truly? I love you, too. I have for ages. Years.’
He laughed and held her close. ‘Since you were in your pram? I’m delighted to hear it. No more rubbish about Chris then.’ And he bent and kissed her again.
Presently she realised that she was shivering.
‘What shall we do?’ she asked, her eyes enormous with love. ‘We’re halfway between the Courtyard and the Rectory. D’you want to come back with me? The boys are home for Christmas.’
‘No,’ said Guy at once, who had no desire to face the Wivenhoes en masse whilst he was feeling so unlike himself. He needed to get used to these feelings and to be alone with Gemma. ‘Could you bear to come back with me now? I’ll drive you home later on and I’ll come and fetch you tomorrow so that you can get the car.’
‘Or,’ said Gemma, with her familiar provocative grin. ‘I could stay the night with you. I’m sure Ma and Pa would understand. Us all being such old friends.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort,’ said Guy, his old puritanical instincts coming to the fore. ‘It would be all over Nethercombe in minutes. We’ll wait.’
‘Heavens!’ said Gemma in mock dismay. ‘I’m not sure I can. How long do you suggest?’
‘I’ve been thinking.’ He grinned at her. ‘I’m going down to pick up a boat from Fowey just after Christmas. Like to come along?’
‘Love to. As long as you don’t order me about too much!’
They kissed again and Guy hesitated as they prepared to climb back into their respective cars.
‘Gemma?’ She paused, one foot inside. ‘You know that I’m asking you to marry me, don’t you?’
She grinned and shook her head at him.
‘And about bloody time, too!’ she said.
BY THE TIME THE party actually took place, everyone was on a high. Guy had gone to Nell and told her the truth, praying that she wouldn’t be hurt and upset. Part of him knew that she’d never been in love with him and that it was only because she hated to hurt his feelings that she had tried to keep him at arm’s length. Nevertheless he felt very nervous and foolish. She embraced him warmly, wished him luck and told him that she was delighted.
‘Apart from anything else,’ she told him, ‘I’m far too old for you. And, anyway, I’ve discovered this latent urge to become a career woman.
They parted with a good deal of warmth and enormous relief on both sides and settled down to enjoy Christmas.
Lydia’s wedding took place three days before the party and the celebrations seemed to continue right up to the night of the party and well into it. Everyone was happy for her and Charles fitted into the Nethercombe scene with no trouble at all. He’d assumed his role as step-grandfather with amazing aplomb and had enjoyed a long conversation with Jack about the Army.
‘Some women get all the luck, that’s all I can say,’ said Phoebe, sitting down beside Elizabeth as the evening of the party wore on. ‘He’s rather a sweetie. After all, what’s she got that we haven’t got?’ She looked at Elizabeth and was shocked to see the pain in her eyes.
‘A great deal more in the way of curves,’ answered Elizabeth lightly and they both laughed.
‘I can’t believe that it’s a year since we sat here,’ mused Phoebe. ‘And what a year! Babies, weddings, engagements! And I can’t get over
Guy. Love has done him no good at all. I simply can’t get a rise out of him. He smiles and agrees with everything I say. It’s positively sickening!’
‘Some of us simply can’t deal with it,’ agreed Elizabeth and Phoebe was struck once again by the sad expression on her face.
She studied her covertly and noticed that she’d lost a lot of weight since she’d seen her last. The lines on her face were more pronounced and she looked much older.
Man trouble! thought Phoebe and began to clap with everyone else as Charles could be seen climbing on to a chair, preparatory to making a speech. They’d already had some speeches, toasting the new heir to Nethercombe – Jack, very flushed and proud – and Gemma and Guy’s engagement – Guy, also very flushed and proud – and everyone was in the mood for more.
‘You’ve all been very patient,’ Charles began, amidst cheers, ‘and I shan’t keep you long’ – boos of disbelief – ‘but we have just one more announcement to make.’ Cries of ‘Get on with it!’ ‘It’s simply that Lydia and I have bought a small house in Exeter and we invite you all to our house-warming party. But not until Elizabeth has wrought a transformation on the house which is in need of a great deal of care and attention. You will all be notified in due course. Please watch this space.’
Phoebe, cheering with the rest, was surprised to see tears on Elizabeth’s cheeks as she turned to smile at her.
‘Dear Lydia,’ said Elizabeth and shook her head. ‘Forgive me. I’m just so happy for her. For you all.’
Phoebe smiled uncertainly but, before she could reply, she was being hauled to her feet by William Hope-Latymer who wanted her to meet someone and she could only glance back apologetically over her shoulder before she was borne off into the crowd.
Thirty-six
ONCE THE BAPTISM OF Thomas was over – and Jack had played his part with tremendous aplomb – the inhabitants of Nethercombe found themselves looking forward to the housewarming party at the newly renovated house in Exeter. After some consideration, Lydia and Charles decided to wait until the Easter holidays arrived before the celebration took place. The Beresfords would be down, Jack and Gemma home from their respective seats of learning and everyone could be assembled once again under one roof for another party.
The only person with misgivings at this time was Nell. Everyone seemed so happy, so settled, and Nell found herself envying their security. She reminded herself of what Guy had said on this subject, finding comfort in the fact that she at least had a job with a good income. Nevertheless she would often lie awake at night wondering what on earth she would do if the owner of her cottage decided to move in himself and asked her to leave. Of course, she could always go back to the Lodge. As yet, Henry had made no attempt to relet it but he wouldn’t leave it empty for ever. She still had nightmares about her attack, seeing that burly shadowy figure with its arm raised menacingly, wondering if, even in the ultimate crisis, she could ever live there alone again. Moving into Nethercombe simply wasn’t an option and there was no way, yet, that she could even begin to think about buying her own home, however humble. Most of the time she was able to push these fears to one side but very often, when she was in one or other of the Courtyard cottages, she envied the owner’s ability to decorate as he or she pleased and to change or alter things without permission. Having learned so much from Elizabeth, she longed to try out her own ideas without restraint but she knew that she must wait patiently and be grateful for what she had.
Elizabeth was putting more and more responsibility into her hands now and Nell was beginning to wonder whether she was, at last, seriously thinking of retirement. After all, that was why she had offered Nell the job in the first place and over a year had passed since she’d started to work with her. Nell felt surprisingly confident at the thought of running the business – Elizabeth would still be there in the background – but she knew that she would miss her dreadfully in the day-to-day meetings and consultations and during their trips together. She had found a real friend and she gratefully treasured their moments together. The holiday she’d spent with Elizabeth in Italy was one of the happiest times of her life and this new relationship was doing so much to reconcile her to her grief and loss.
As Easter approached, Elizabeth talked of going to Italy again but this time she didn’t invite Nell to go with her. Nell began to wonder if she might be going with someone else and suspected that it might be Richard. She’d met him several times and had been much struck by his distinguished looks and good-mannered charm. She discovered that he was Elizabeth’s accountant, which explained certain things but not others. She began to feel quite sure that theirs was more than just a business relationship and longed to know what kept them apart. It would never have occurred to her to broach the subject, any more than she expected Elizabeth to discuss it with her. They were both reticent women who respected the other’s privacy but Nell noticed enough small incidents to make her feel that change was imminent.
A few days before Elizabeth was due to leave for Italy, Nell arrived to see her at home to receive some last-minute instructions. She was rather earlier than she expected and parked behind a Rover which she was fairly certain belonged to Richard. She had hardly left her own car when the front door opened and Richard came out. He seemed in a great hurry and barely paused to greet her. His face was strangely twisted, almost, thought Nell, as though he were trying to hold back tears. He certainly appeared to be in the grip of some strong emotion and Nell looked after him quite anxiously as he drove somewhat erratically down the drive.
‘Nell.’ Elizabeth was standing on the step above her. ‘You’re early. That’s good. We’ve lots to get through.’
‘Right.’ Nell followed her inside, wondering whether to draw attention to Richard’s distress but as usual, when confronted by Elizabeth’s cool facade, she found that she was unable to mention anything so personal.
They were soon immersed in the lists of things which Nell would be required to deal with during Elizabeth’s absence and the various clients she would be expected to see and Richard was forgotten. Nell noticed, however, that Elizabeth was less poised than usual and her face held traces of strain. She wondered if they’d quarrelled or whether Elizabeth was going to Italy with someone else and Richard was jealous. Whatever it was, there was no doubt that Elizabeth was not looking her best.
‘This holiday will do you good,’ said Nell impulsively. ‘You must relax in the sun and eat lots of lovely Italian food.’
‘Do I understand by this that I look haggard and thin?’ wondered Elizabeth and smiled at Nell’s quick flush of embarrassment. ‘Don’t worry! I know I do. Lydia told me quite plainly last week that I look ninety. I had the tiniest suspicion that she was rather pleased about it!’
They both laughed and Nell shook her head.
‘That’s nonsense, of course. She must be sad that you’ll miss her house-warming party, especially after all the advice you’ve given her. It looks wonderful now. I love their new house.’
‘Better than your own?’ asked Elizabeth, passing the folders of work across to Nell and sitting back in her chair.
‘Oh, no.’ Nell put the folders on the floor beside her and relaxed too. ‘Now that I’ve settled in, I really love my little place. They’re all so different, you know, that it’s difficult to choose between them but I think mine’s in the best position. It gets the most sun and my little terrace at the back is quite private. No.’ She sighed deeply. ‘My one terror is that the owner will want to move into it himself. I’m praying that he’s bought it as an investment and that I’ll be able to stay there for ever.’
‘For ever’s a long time,’ remarked Elizabeth lightly. She leaned to place a log on the fire. The evenings were drawing out but it was remarkably cold. ‘You don’t find it difficult, living in such close proximity to other people?’
‘No,’ said Nell thoughtfully, ‘it surprises me to say it, but I don’t. They’re all so sweet and they seem to understand that, simply because we do live at such clos
e quarters, privacy has to be respected.’
‘That’s good.’ Elizabeth sat back again in her chair, her face in shadow. ‘No regrets then?’
‘What, about moving down to the Courtyard? Oh, no.’ Nell shook her head decisively. ‘And after my attack, I would have been terrified to stay at the Lodge alone.’
‘And what about coming in with me?’
Nell stared at her for a moment and then laughed. ‘Regrets?’ She shook her head. ‘You must be joking. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I shall never be able to thank you enough.’
‘Splendid.’
There was a moment of silence and Nell wondered if she should now mention Richard. She’d never had quite such an intimate talk with her before and she wondered if Elizabeth had been upset by whatever had happened earlier and would have liked to speak about it.
‘Are you …?’ She cast about for ways of furthering this precious moment without sounding inquisitive. ‘Shall you be staying with friends? You seem to know so many people in Italy. And, of course, you speak the language. I was very impressed.’
Elizabeth was silent and Nell was frightened that she’d gone too far. She sat quite still, her face still shadowed, and Nell seized desperately on the first thing that came into her head.
‘Perhaps we’ll go together again one day? I should like that so much. Perhaps next spring? It was so beautiful in the spring. But I should need you to help me along. I’d be useless on my own.’ She stopped, hearing her foolish words ringing on in the peace of the gracious room, now filled with the last golden light of the day.
‘I’m afraid not, my dear.’ Elizabeth spoke at last and her voice was sad. ‘I’m dying. I have only a few weeks left to live and I intend to spend them in Italy. I’ve good friends there who will help me painlessly out of the life I have left to me. I shan’t see you again after today.’
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