by Susan Sallis
‘Go on. Tell me,’ she commanded as he hesitated.
‘Well … I was interning at Hartley at the time, went home for Christmas and there he was! I wanted to talk about special education and he wanted to talk about knitting!’
She raised her brows. ‘Knitting?’
‘I told you they met at an evening class. Traditional Arts and Crafts. He’d gone to talk to them about whittling. Balsa wood and a Stanley knife – you know the sort of thing. Evolved from your farm labourer with the kitchen knife and alder wood sitting outside his cottage whittling – carving – a doll for his youngest daughter …’ He was laughing wholeheartedly now, but she had long-ago memories of Mark whittling Joanie dolls.
‘You told me only that your mother had remarried and he was a lecturer.’
‘Well, I gilded the lily slightly, I suppose. But the best of it is, Mum’s traditional craft is knitting, especially the old traditional Fair Isle patterns. And now that’s his speciality as well! They sit in their armchairs and knit for England!’
She laughed, but reluctantly. ‘Actually, it sounds marvellous! Like you helping me with The Tempest. Oh, I wish so much they could come to our wedding. I just know I’m going to love them.’ She put her face close to his and said emphatically, ‘Both of them!’ And then kissed him, drew back and said, ‘My God. You haven’t even told them, have you?’
He stopped laughing and looked rueful. ‘No. They’d already planned this delayed honeymoon and I knew she would cancel it. It wasn’t a terrible thing to do, was it?’
Jannie thought about it, then said slowly, ‘I’m not sure. Perhaps you should write to them and explain. Then you could tell them about the tiny church on the Island and how the service was held there the day after Nine Eleven had happened. Make it … real. I’ll write too. Would you mind? They will be my family now, darling, not just yours.’
‘I wouldn’t mind. It’s just that … I was trying to uncomplicate things, Jan. You’ve got a lot to deal with, the three of you.’
‘And that reminds me – ’ she darted a kiss to his nose – ‘we’re going out tonight. You and me. Late … just before midnight, I think it is.’
‘Not another search for the special glory gates, is it?’ They had made two forays into the narrow, fern-edged paths across the moors to kissing gates that had proved unusable for a wheelchair. The heat, the ferns, the flies had been – as Robert put it – ‘a bit much’.
‘Not yet. I want you to keep thinking about that, however. This is something completely different.’
Jannie and Robert cooked the supper that night. Afterwards, the four of them sat in the yard and watched the constant promenade of visitors gradually dissipate. Ned brought down some notes and discussed them with Robert. The girls went next door to check on Bessie.
Ned closed his folder and cleared his throat. Robert looked across to the next yard and wondered aloud whether Bessie was all right.
‘They’ll be another half an hour, that’s the usual.’ Ned glanced at his watch; the girls had been gone less than five minutes. He cleared his throat again. ‘D’you realize you’ll have been here a week on Saturday?’
‘Well … yes.’
‘What d’you think of St Ives?’
‘We used to come for the day when I was a kid. Before this lot.’ He indicated his legs. ‘I loved it then.’ He paused, heard his own words and said quickly, ‘And of course now – Jannie’s spiritual home, as it were.’
‘Not built for a wheelchair, of course, but you’re managing well.’
‘Jannie has shown me all the routes through the old town. To avoid the steps.’
‘You can cope with the hills then?’
‘So far. I’ve got a small power pack thing in the van. I can fit it so that it works off one of the wheels. Not terribly efficient but if we walk to Carbis Bay – she wants to do that some time – I would use it up Skidden Hill. Possibly. Well, probably.’
‘Can’t think how you managed to get up to the coast road looking for the glory gates. Breakneck Hill is named for a reason!’
Robert nodded. ‘One of our less successful trips. That was when I decided to unearth the power pack.’
‘She’ll spring something on you sometimes. When you’d rather have a bit of a warning. Know what I mean? She is very impulsive.’
Robert remembered that they had a ‘date’ for that evening and felt a twinge of alarm. ‘You think I should fit the pack now, perhaps?’
‘No. Not this time, anyway.’ Ned cleared his throat for the third time and Robert wondered whether it was sore.
There was a short and awkward silence. Then Ned said, ‘It’s supposed to be a surprise, not a shock, of course. I expect she’s told you lots about our parents and the antics they got up to. It’s just that she’s sort of hoping to keep some of those kind of things … er … going.’
Robert said, ‘Oh, yes. They sound so wonderfully matched. I realize Jannie hopes so much that we can be as happy in every way as they were.’ He laughed uncomfortably. ‘At first I wondered whether my disability was part of the attraction, but now—’
Ned interrupted quickly; he wanted no confidences about how they managed to overcome the wheelchair difficulties.
‘Dad used to do it all the time, of course. I mean, he came to St Ives every year with Rosemary and Gran and Granddad, and then when Philip Nolla died and left him the cottage and the boat, he lived here. I think his wife, Zannah, forced him to do it – she was crazier then than she is now. Poor old Dad. Fancy having to put up with that. Not that Jannie is like Zannah, of course – I didn’t mean that. Neither is Gussie, thank God. But Jannie thinks it would be a good idea if you followed in Dad’s footsteps, as it were.’ He stopped speaking and Robert wondered what on earth he had been trying to say. Over the wall they could hear Jannie’s laugh as the girls emerged from Bessie’s cottage. He finished hurriedly, ‘It’s just meant for a surprise, that’s all I wanted to say. Good intentions and so forth.’ He stood up and went to open the gate. ‘Good luck!’ he hissed over his shoulder.
Robert sat very still and stared as Gussie appeared, smiling, calm, her plait fraying as he noticed it did at the end of the day. He decided he liked Gussie’s plait; it reminded him of plaiting his troth. He smiled as Jannie came after and immediately kissed him. He told himself he didn’t care what surprise or shock she had in store for him. He – quite simply – loved her.
They left the house as the other two went up to bed. Gussie obviously had no inkling of any surprises in store; she was arguing with Ned about something to do with the infamous Uncle Rory. He was still staying with Jannie’s stepmother in the South of France somewhere. Gussie thought he was ‘pushing his luck’. Robert could hear her on the stairs saying something about a brain tumour and though Ned’s reply was not clear his tone was scoffing. Robert wondered what it might be like to belong to this family. The Briscoes seemed to him, the only child of disparate parents, to have more than their fair share of genius … or craziness. He grinned up at Jannie as she helped him out of the cobbled yard; she had a good mix of the Briscoe genes and above all else she was gentle and kind. He said quietly into the soft dark air, ‘I love you, January Briscoe. Do you think I’ll ever become one of your family?’
‘You’ve only known them for a week and you’re having doubts already?’
She was dismayed, and he grabbed her hand and put it against his face. ‘My doubts are in case I don’t qualify for membership.’
She snorted. ‘It’s whether they can make it with you! Anyway, after tonight they’ll just love you. I promise.’
‘How do you mean – what do you mean – is this some kind of test? I thought I was in for a bit of passion on a dark beach.’
‘Absolutely right.’ They had arrived at the top of the slipway behind Smeaton’s Pier. The old ruined pier was above them, full of anglers and sunbathers in the daytime, now deserted and casting a deep shadow over the sea as the tide moved heavily, indecisively up the slope of the slip
way, black and dangerous.
Robert said, ‘I can smell sulphur – rain behind it. We’re in for a storm.’
‘Right.’ Jannie stopped and snapped on the chair’s brakes, completely ignoring his comment. ‘D’you need help with undressing?’ She whipped her T-shirt over her head at the same time as wriggling out of her jeans. She stood before him, her skin lit whitely by a sudden emergence of the moon. Her pants were negligible and she wore no bra. She scuffed off her sandals and grinned at his astonished expression. ‘Well? Wasn’t this what you had in mind?’
He spluttered, ‘Shameless woman!’ He lifted his arms straight up as if in surrender and she pulled his shirt off with one swoop, then leaned down and removed his trainers. He eased himself up with his elbows and she tugged at his jeans until they too lay on the enormous granite slabs of the ramp.
‘Be gentle with me,’ he begged. She laughed, throwing back her head and showing her white throat to the sky. Then she snapped off the brake, took the handles and charged down the slope and straight into the sea. He flew from the chair and entered the enormous blackness on all fours.
He gave a shout as the water engulfed him; the air was still warm from a day of intense sunshine and the sea felt like ice. He turned and floated and looked back at Jannie, who was pulling the chair back to the top of the ramp and locking it with its brake.
‘I’m going to drown you. Come here, you hussy – I thought you were gentle and now I discover—’ He took a mouthful of water and spluttered incomprehensibly. She was running back to him, diving off the side of the slipway, disappearing and then grabbing his legs and pulling him down beneath the water.
They emerged, both spluttering, helpless with laughter. She held him close, glorying in the sheer length of his body held closely to her own. They were panting for breath. She put up a hand and wiped water from his face and then kissed him. He kissed her back, suddenly serious. He found he could paddle his legs, and he kept them both upright.
He whispered, ‘What was all that about?’
‘Mum and Dad used to do this,’ she said. ‘Ned wanted me to tell you about it first. But then it wouldn’t have been an adventure. It might have been a therapy. And that would have made it sort of condescending.’
‘What did Gus say about it?’
‘Didn’t tell her. She would have worried and she’s worried enough anyway. Every little thing worries her lately. She taught Mum to swim so that Mum could go in with Dad like Zannah had.’ She grinned at him wetly. ‘Gets complicated. Just enjoy it. The best bit is yet to come.’
They found the edge of the granite ramp and he swam in until his knees scraped on its hard surface. They made love in the shallows, completely carried away because he was suddenly so mobile. Afterwards they lay on their backs and stared up at the stars.
‘I don’t remember those stars being there … before,’ he whispered.
‘Nor me.’ She sat up, waist-deep in water. ‘I wonder if it was the same for Mum and Dad?’ She looked down at him and was suddenly weeping profusely. ‘Oh, Robert, I was just about to say I would ask him because I could ask him anything – anything at all – any time.’ She put her hands over her face. ‘But not any more. Not now.’ She gave an enormous sob. ‘I’ll never know whether the stars came out for them after they had swum in the moonlight.’
He sat up slowly and took her in his arms. ‘Of course they did. It’s a gift they’ve passed on, my darling. It comes from them.’
That made her cry more but differently. She held on to him as if she could never let him go, and the tide swept up to their necks and then over their heads, and they had to scrabble further up. She stood up and he continued to pull himself along with his arms while she grabbed the wheelchair and took it back down for him. She dried him with her T-shirt and let him do the same for her. Her tears left tracks in the salt on her face and neck, but she was smiling and then laughing as he dried beneath her arms and the laughter died as he kissed her body and whispered what he called his sweet nothings.
Later, when she sat on the old pier dangling her legs, her head on his knees, she said, ‘I’ve known you a fraction of my present life span, Robert, and I know I could not live without you.’ She tilted her head and stared into his green eyes. ‘Mum and Dad were lucky after all, weren’t they?’
‘In that way? Yes. I suppose they were.’ He smoothed her salt-wet hair. ‘I wish I’d known them, Jan.’
‘That was part of tonight, darling. You know them because you are living in the cottage, you manoeuvre your chair like Dad did, and now we have swum together like they did.’
They were silent until he felt her shiver against his shin.
‘Time for bed. I’ll make us some of our special cocoa while you get a hot shower. OK?’
‘Definitely OK.’ She jumped up and they started back along the wharf.
The next day Jannie announced at breakfast that she had baptized Robert the night before. Gussie was aghast.
‘It’s all very well, darling, but did you know if Robert could swim?’
‘I’ve seen him in the hydrotherapy pool often enough. He plays water polo for Devon, too.’ Jannie knew she sounded defiant and grinned. ‘Sorry, Gus, it’s not that exciting. Now, if I’d insisted he should jump off Bamaluz Point—’ She stopped speaking as Gussie put a hand to her throat.
Ned said easily, ‘Don’t worry, Gus. As soon as they left I rigged up Dad’s old telescope in the dormer and kept them in my sights.’
Jannie was aghast. ‘You what? That’s terrible, Ned! What sort of stuff did you get up to in America? You’d never have done anything like that before!’
‘I’ve always had to keep an eye on you, missie!’ He intended to sound like a television hillbilly and failed miserably. They all laughed except Jannie; her face was very red indeed. Gus looked relieved, however, and shook her head resignedly.
‘Sorry, Robert. I don’t know what else she might have in mind for you. Was it some kind of test you devised, Jannie?’
‘Not at all! It was the most romantic event of my whole life! And – and that rotten Ned has ruined it!’
Ned held up a hand. ‘Stop there before you give anything away! It was just before the storm – very dark – not a star in the sky. And anyway, Smeaton’s Pier blocked anything that might have been going on behind it.’
Jannie seemed to be holding her breath. She looked across at Robert, who was staring at her.
‘Sure it was that dark, Ned?’ he said.
Ned raised his brows. ‘It was about an hour before the thunderstorm, wasn’t it? Those thunderheads blocked out the moon and the stars – come on, you were there!’
Gussie poured herself more tea. ‘You timed it exactly right. Thank goodness you weren’t caught in that storm.’ She held the teapot in Ned’s direction and he shook his head. ‘I looked out towards Hayle – just gone two o’clock it was – and the whole place was illuminated by the summer lightning.’
Jannie switched her gaze from Robert and held out her cup. ‘We were fast asleep by then,’ she said comfortably.
Ned said, ‘If you haven’t got anything planned for today, how about Robert and I looking through some of my stuff?’ He turned in his chair to face Robert. ‘It’s tedious, in a way, but I’d like you to start on the ground floor, as it were, when it comes to methodology. You’re going to have to go through that sort of grind yourself while you’re testing the electronics in the hand you’ve made. By the way, I’d like to take photographs of it – the hand, I mean – for my father in California. It’s beautiful in its own right.’ He looked round at Jannie. ‘How about it, Sis? The foliage up on the moors is going to be sopping wet; Robert will get soaked if you plan to look around Bamaluz Point for the glory gates today.’
Jannie nodded. ‘If the car is free, will you come with me to Zennor, Gus? Get some menus and decide how we’re going to do the table?’
Gussie nodded. ‘I’d love that. Shall we take Bessie?’
‘If you like.’ Jannie h
ad hoped for a tête-à-tête.
‘Not if you don’t like.’
‘No, honestly, it’s OK by me.’
Ned said, ‘Let’s go, Robert. They’re multiskilled – can wash up and have these fascinating debates at the same time.’
Robert smiled at Jannie. ‘Is that all right, Brisket?’
It was his very private name for her and she blushed slightly and avoided Ned’s suddenly alert gaze.
‘Perfectly all right,’ she said. They had far bigger secrets than that. She thought of those stars and was filled with a huge, engulfing content. She beamed at Gussie. ‘Let’s take Bessie. She’ll love seeing Mabel Finch, who does the washing-up at the pub now. She was at school with Mabel’s mother and they got up to all sorts of things.’
They cleared the table and listened to Ned already explaining his ‘system’ as they went slowly up the stairs to the accompaniment of the faint hum from the stair lift. The attic door closed.
‘Poor Robert,’ Jannie sighed.
Gussie was swilling water around the teapot and turned, surprised. ‘What do you mean? Ned is a really good teacher. Even I can understand what he’s talking about – well, most of the time.’
‘I know. But Robert is still so low about the last test he did.’
Gussie said acutely, ‘He shouldn’t be testing people he knows and cares about so much. It should be totally objective.’
‘Yes. But they’ve been in on it from the beginning. They’re … there. Actually, almost queuing up for their turn. They want good results for Robert as well as for themselves.’
‘If it’s such a joint project, then disappointments must be shared as well as successes.’
‘Oh, darling, you’re such a comfort. Can you say those sort of things to Robert?’
‘Not yet. Robert and I need time.’
Jannie paused in drying a plate; she looked stricken. ‘What d’you mean? Don’t you like him? Oh my God, I thought Ned might disapprove – he can be so stuffy at times – but never you! You’ve got to like him, Gus! You’ve got to do more than that – you’ve got to care about him and take him under your wing like you do with me and Ned and everyone. He hasn’t had what we’ve had – all that love and yet complete freedom – he needs you, Gus!’