‘It’s OK,’ she says. ‘It was all a very long time ago. But I shall still enjoy a ride in an MGB. Was it you playing when I came in?’
‘Yes,’ he says, taken aback by the sudden change of direction. ‘Yes, it was. I was jazzing up some Bach.’
‘It sounded good,’ she says.
He feels almost embarrassed, pleased but not knowing quite how to react.
‘I’m not as good as Hugo,’ he says. ‘Hugo could have been a concert pianist but he didn’t have the encouragement at the right time.’
Dossie nods. ‘I’ve heard Hugo play. He’s amazing. Rather different from what you were doing, though.’
Jamie feels a foolish momentary stab of jealousy, of competitiveness.
‘Oh, Hugo doesn’t approve of the way I mess around with it,’ he says lightly. ‘He’s a purist.’
‘I liked it,’ she answers – and now he feels ridiculously pleased.
‘Well, maybe I can play for you sometime?’ he suggests casually. ‘So, shall we get going?’
He has a sudden fear that Hugo and Uncle Ned might appear and spoil his plan, though he knows that it’s much too early for them to be back from Plymouth. He settles the dogs, gets his old leather jacket and picks up his stick, and they both go out. Dossie has pulled into the space where the Volvo usually is and they stand together looking at the MGB.
‘We could put the hood down,’ he offers. ‘It’s warm enough. What d’you think?’
‘That would be great!’ she says, and he opens the passenger door for her, and then goes round and climbs in. He feels happier than he’s felt for months and he’s loving it.
Leaning back in the passenger seat, Dossie breathes in the wonderful smell of leather, the tarry scent of the hood; she notices the gleam of chrome and walnut on the dashboard and listens with pleasure to that old familiar hubble-bubble of the engine. The air is soft and the sun is warm on her face.
‘I suppose I should keep a scarf in the glove compartment for these occasions,’ says Jamie, glancing sideways at her, and she laughs for the sheer pleasure of it all.
‘Silk,’ she says at once. ‘And Hermès, of course. No, you shouldn’t. That would be totally naff.’
‘Thank God for that,’ he says at once. ‘Think how terrible if I’d done that. Would you have asked me to stop so that you could get out?’
‘Definitely,’ she answers. ‘It would have been much too smooth. I’m glad we’re going to The Chough. You’ll be able to meet Ben. Then you’ll be one up.’
She sees his look of surprise, the raising of his eyebrows and the way his eyes crease up in that smile that doesn’t touch his lips. She guesses that Jamie likes to be one up; that he is an expert in gamesmanship.
‘One up?’ he asks casually, and she laughs.
‘You won’t have to rely on Hugo or Ned or Prune to introduce you. You’ll be able to say, “Ben? Oh, I know Ben. I met him at the pub.” That only leaves Janna.’
‘And Adam,’ he says.
She shrugs. ‘They’ve already met Adam. Can’t do anything about that.’
Suddenly she realizes that she’d like to introduce him to Adam, and she wonders how her brother will react to Jamie.
‘When will he be down?’ Jamie is asking.
‘On Saturday. He’s down for the Bank Holiday week. You must come over to meet him.’
‘I’d like to do that,’ Jamie says, and she feels foolishly happy and excited.
She raises her face to the sun and closes her eyes.
‘Don’t you feel,’ she asks, ‘that there are some moments when you want to drive for ever? Just going on and on until it gets dark or there’s no more road.’
She opens her eyes and glances sideways at him, and sees that he is laughing silently.
‘And then?’ he asks.
Dossie knows that he is trying to wrong-foot her and she is delighted that they have so quickly moved into this easy bantering early friendship.
‘Oh, then,’ she answers, shrugging. ‘Well, if you were the kind of man to have an Hermès silk scarf in your glove compartment I should feel very nervous. But then I wouldn’t have gone driving into the dark with you in the first place.’
She falls silent, surprised at herself, wondering if she has misjudged him and that he might be shocked at her easiness, her familiarity, but when she slides another glance at him she sees that he is still laughing.
‘I know just what you mean about the driving,’ he says. ‘I’d love to drive to Land’s End. But I have to think of the dogs so it’ll just have to be The Chough today, I’m afraid.’
She gives a snort. ‘Typical,’ she says. ‘Mike always said that you fly-boys had no sense of adventure. Oh, well. The Chough it is.’
‘You can drive home if you like,’ he offers.
She turns in her seat to look at him, to see if he’s joking, and he glances briefly at her with that smile creasing his eyes, eyebrows raised.
Oh God, she thinks. I’m falling in love with him.
‘I’ll take that as a “yes” then, shall I?’ he’s asking, and she settles back in her seat, smiling to herself.
‘You’re on,’ she says. ‘And no reneging on it later.’
‘Do I seem like a man who reneges on his word?’ he asks as he drives into the pub car park, pulls on the handbrake and switches off the engine.
Dossie purses her lips, pretends to think about it.
‘I don’t think I know you well enough to answer,’ she says decorously.
‘Well, we’d better remedy that,’ he says briefly, and gets out.
She follows him into the pub and there is Ben, grooving quietly behind the bar to Enrique Iglesias’ ‘Bailando’, and she smiles at him. His face lights up, and then looks surprised to see her with someone new.
‘Hi, Ben,’ she says. ‘How are you doing? This is Jamie, Hugo’s cousin. Have you got a table for us?’
He comes out from behind the bar, settles them at a table and hands them menus, and then goes off to get some drinks. Dossie looks enquiringly at Jamie, as if waiting for his reaction.
‘So that’s Prune’s young fellow,’ he says. ‘It’s nothing to do with me but I approve.’
‘Me, too,’ says Dossie. ‘So that just leaves Adam. I’m beginning to look forward to this party.’
‘Are you sure Janna won’t join us?’ asks Jamie. ‘At the moment the numbers, male to female, are a bit weighted in our favour, five to two.’
Dossie shrugs. ‘Sounds good to me,’ she counters. ‘You know what Mae West used to say?’
Jamie shakes his head. ‘No. But I think you’re going to tell me.’
She grins at him. ‘“So many men. So little time,”’ she quotes, and he bursts out laughing.
Ben brings their drinks and she thanks him and then raises her glass to Jamie. He lifts his glass and smiles at her.
‘Next time Land’s End,’ he says.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AS SOON AS Ned walks in through the front door and hears Jamie playing the piano upstairs in the sitting-room, his intuition tells him that something of great moment has been happening. He couldn’t say just why – he’s heard Jamie jazzing up Bach many times before – but this time there’s a little something extra about the speed and the energy, a whole vibe about the place, that alerts his sixth sense. And when he goes into the kitchen and sees the empty cold box standing on the table he knows that he’s right.
‘Hi,’ Hugo is shouting up the stairs. ‘We’re back.’
The arpeggios slow a little and then stop and the dogs come hurrying down the stairs. Jamie follows more slowly.
‘Looks like we’ve had a visit from Dossie,’ says Ned, still looking at the box, which has Dossie’s Fill the Freezer stickers on it. ‘Did you know she was coming?’
‘Oh my God, I utterly forgot,’ Hugo says. ‘She did say she was doing deliveries over this way today.’
‘Well, I expect Jamie was able to cope with it,’ Ned says calmly.
‘Cope with what?’ asks Jamie, coming in behind them.
‘I forgot to tell Dossie we were in Plymouth,’ says Hugo. ‘It’s lucky you were in. Sorry.’
‘Nothing to be sorry about,’ answers Jamie. ‘We got the freezer filled but she left the box behind.’
‘And did you play to her?’ asks Ned, settling himself in his armchair beside the Aga. He watches Jamie, noticing that he is in high spirits, which he is only just able to contain. He sees the quick glance Hugo gives his cousin: questioning, alert.
‘No, I didn’t, as it happens,’ replies Jamie casually. ‘I took her to the pub for lunch. It seemed the polite thing to do since she’d just supplied us with food for the next few weeks.’
There is a tiny silence.
‘So that’s why she forgot her cold box,’ says Hugo.
He lifts it from the table and puts it into the utility room and Ned glimpses his resigned expression.
‘We went in my car,’ says Jamie. ‘And when we got home she simply switched cars and went off.’
‘That’s all good, then,’ says Hugo. ‘You must have enjoyed yourselves.’
‘Oh, we did. I met Ben and I let Dossie drive home. She’s a bloody good driver, actually.’
‘But you didn’t tell her that,’ says Ned, grinning.
‘Good grief, no,’ says Jamie, shocked. ‘Don’t want her getting any ideas.’
‘If you’re not one up you’re one down?’
Ned’s laughing now. He can’t help himself. Jamie’s sense of well-being is a delight to behold. And, after all, the human heart instinctively turns to consolation. After the brutal end to his career, and the disability he now has to deal with, Ned cannot grudge him this pleasure. He knows that if Jamie had the least idea that Hugo had any hopes for himself with Dossie, he would have backed right off. As it is, Jamie can see no reason why he should not follow his instincts.
‘Stephen Potter is my guru,’ Jamie answers, grinning back at him. ‘As you well know. So how was the check-up?’
‘Everything is proceeding as it should be. Everyone was very helpful.’
‘So you didn’t get the dogs out for a walk?’ asks Hugo.
Jamie shakes his head. ‘No, but I can take them now if you like.’
‘I’ll take them,’ says Hugo. ‘I’d like to stretch my legs after all that sitting about. I shan’t be long. We’ll have a drink when I get back.’
He goes out, with the dogs clattering behind him, and Ned reaches for the newspaper. Jamie hesitates.
‘Anything I can get you?’ he asks.
Ned shakes his head. ‘No, thanks. You can go back to your playing. Leave the door open; I like to hear you.’
Jamie goes out and up the stairs. Ned unfolds the newspaper but he doesn’t read it. This isn’t just about Jamie; it’s about Dossie, too. He wouldn’t want Dossie to be hurt. Ned gives a little sigh, and then a snort of contempt at his foolishness. Can’t a man and a woman have lunch together without it being invested with high drama? But he’s too experienced to be able to ignore Jamie’s suppressed high spirits, and he suspects that Dossie is a woman who might be susceptible to falling in love. He knows the feeling only too well.
Jamie is playing ‘Just The Way You Are’. Ned gives a deeper sigh and opens the newspaper.
Hugo drives out of the village into the woods at the edge of the moor. He parks the car and lets the dogs out, standing for a moment before he shuts the door so as to breathe in the scents that drift on the currents of warm air. The dogs sniff around, smelling the passing of a badger or a fox, then a squirrel darts across the clearing and they are after it in a scuffle of dead leaves and dry earth.
Hugo follows, hanging their leads loosely around his neck. He is seeing Jamie’s face, hearing his voice, studiedly casual, as he said, ‘I took her to the pub for lunch.’ Hugo gives a tiny bitter snort. It’s rather like Emilia all over again except that this time it’s clear that Jamie has no idea that his cousin’s feelings might be engaged. Too often in London he’s seen Hugo with attractive women with whom he’s made good, deep friendships to be suspicious now.
‘I think romance has been left out of my make-up,’ he once said to Jamie. ‘Occasionally I think I might want to follow up but I always lose my nerve.’
He experiences a moment of anger, regret, sadness, and then the peace and beauty that surround him soothes his pain and he lets out his breath in a great sigh. If he’s honest with himself he knows that he would never have made it with Dossie; that crucial spark is missing. And, deep down, he doesn’t really want the hurly-burly that belongs with passion or the life-changing decisions that go with it. He’s really very happy with the status quo, and if Jamie is being distracted from his problems, if he can find a new happiness and structure to his life, isn’t that a rather wonderful thing? On the other hand, he doesn’t see why it should be made too easy for him. Hugo begins to smile as he thinks of the many ways that this might turn into rather a good tease.
His spirits rising, he hurries on after the dogs, climbing up towards the moor.
When Prune comes in she can hear the piano but no dogs come rushing out to meet her. She guesses from the kind of music that it is Jamie playing, and when she puts her head round the kitchen door and sees Ned asleep in his armchair, the newspaper falling across his chest, she slips out again and goes upstairs.
Jamie smiles at her, but continues to play, though more quietly lest she should want to talk.
‘Ned’s asleep,’ she tells him, ‘and I imagine Hugo is out with the dogs. I’m going to have a shower.’
‘I was giving him a recital,’ says Jamie, ‘but clearly it was more like a lullaby. Yes, Hugo’s taken the dogs off for a walk.’
‘How did Ned’s check-up go? Is everything OK?’
‘As far as I could gather, it’s all going according to plan. Guess who I met earlier?’
Prune looks at him, trying to think who it might be. He has an expression on his face that she recognizes from years of living with three elder brothers: it seems that a tease is about to take place. She shrugs, shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. Kim Kardashian? Benedict Cumberbatch? I give up. Who did you meet earlier?’
Jamie gives a little flourish up and down the keys. ‘I met Ben,’ he says – and she has to make an effort not to show any interest apart from a slight raising of the eyebrows.
‘Ah,’ she says, nonchalantly. ‘You’ve been to the pub. Did you go on your own, then?’
She sees that she’s managed to disconcert him just a little and she grins to herself.
‘No,’ he answers. ‘No, actually I went with Dossie.’
‘Ah,’ she says. ‘That was quick work. When the mice are away …?’
‘Touché,’ he says, laughing. ‘Ben says he’s looking forward to the party.’
‘Did he?’ She answers a little too eagerly and tries to pass it off. ‘Well, he might have to wait a bit. I’m not sure when it’s going to happen.’
‘When Adam’s down,’ answers Jamie, ‘which is at the weekend, so I hope Ben can get time off. He’s got very good taste in music.’
She can’t help the little glow of pleasure when she hears Ben praised.
‘He likes all sorts,’ she says. ‘He always has to have music. When he works. In the car.’
‘Does he play an instrument?’
She shakes her head. ‘Well, the recorder when he was little but we all played the recorder, didn’t we, at some time? Used to drive my mother round the bend.’
‘Don’t knock the recorder,’ says Jamie. ‘It can make a remarkable sound.’
She laughs. ‘My mum would agree with you but not in a good way. See you later.’
Prune goes out and up another flight of stairs to her room on the top floor. She likes to be up here in this small bedroom that looks away across the harbour and the cliffs to the sea’s horizon. She is alone up here with her own space, a small bathroom, and another tiny room where she can keep her belongings. It’s rather like Ben’s lit
tle flat at The Chough and she wonders how he will react to these quarters of hers, and to being here with this household of odd people.
It would be good if either of them had a place where they could go and chill and just do their own thing, but that seems a long way off at the moment. Meanwhile, she knows that she’s lucky to be here, to have a job, to have Ben. She strips off her working clothes, checks her phone, and goes to have a shower.
Dossie makes her last drop at the little holiday complex of Penharrow on the edge of Port Isaac and sets off home. She is still on a high after her lunch with Jamie, and especially after driving his MGB back. It revived all sorts of memories, but they’re good ones and she could almost believe that Mike’s spirit was with them, encouraging her. Jamie is so like Mike: so easy, such fun to be with; quick, acerbic, but with an unexpected kindness.
She parks the car, decides to deal with the cold boxes later, and gets out. The thrush is singing in the apple tree and for a moment she experiences that little wrench of the heart, remembering how much Mo loved the thrush’s song. Dossie opens the door and is greeted unexpectedly by the sound of clapping. She’s taken Adam’s advice and leaves the radio on, switched to Radio 3, just as Mo always did, and now she’s getting used to entering to the sound of singing, a voice talking, a symphony. It was good advice. The house no longer feels empty, though there have been one or two bad moments. Once, the talking voice sounded just like Pa’s and quite without thinking she called out in response before realizing what it was. She felt foolish: foolish and bereft. The second time was when she came in to the sound of Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater with the glorious voices of Emma Kirkby and James Bowman. This was a favourite of Mo’s and once again there was an ache of longing and sadness for times past.
Now, however, she has Adam’s visit to look forward to, as well as the rather exciting development in her new friendship with Jamie. And even as she thinks about it, a text pings in and she reaches for her phone with a sense of expectation before she remembers that Jamie doesn’t have her phone number. The text is from Hugo:
Check-up went well. I hear you had lunch at the pub! Let’s make a plan for the party. xx
Homecomings Page 13