‘Oh, of course, I’ll walk you back to your car. At least you won’t have left your lights on this time.’ He grinned and walked towards the bin provided by the verger for discarded tributes.
Jenny stared at his retreating figure. He was wearing a three-quarter length brown jacket over dark blue jeans. They weren’t clothes that someone would wear to a job in a bank. Perhaps he has a day off. Having spoken and seen him once more, she couldn’t bear to let him go away again. But what could she say? She cast her eyes down at the grass as he walked back towards her.
‘Have you managed to get some ideas for the stone?’
‘Yes, a few,’ Jenny said, thinking that she would find it difficult to remember anything about the headstones. They walked side by side up the slope towards the path.
‘I… I was wondering if we could meet again, somewhere else. I mean, just for a coffee somewhere? We haven’t had time to catch up properly. But I’d understand if you felt you couldn’t,’ he spoke quietly as he closed the churchyard gate behind them.
‘No, it’s alright. I mean yes, I’d like to – to catch up; that would be good.’ Jenny smiled, relieved at his words.
They walked the next few steps in silence while Jenny searched desperately for conversation. ‘Is that your Land Rover?’
‘Yes, it is. I’ve had it for a year now, since I changed my job.’
‘Changed your job? I remember you worked at a bank in Brighton.’
‘Yes, I got a transfer to a branch in Southampton,’ Martin paused. ‘So, ladies first, you’d better say where and when.’ He laughed nervously.
‘Well, I work three days a week, but I could meet you before my class, next Tuesday. It starts at seven, so I could meet you at six-thirty – but it’s in Lewes.’ It doesn’t give us very long, Jenny thought, but if it’s a disaster, it wouldn’t be too embarrassing.
‘That’s fine for me. We live just outside Lewes. What about The Pelham Arms at the top of the High Street, it’s opposite St. Anne’s Church? That’s on your way into Lewes, so you wouldn’t have to go out of your way. We could still have a coffee there – or a drink – if you’d prefer?’
‘That sounds good,’ Jenny said, thinking that she didn’t care what she would drink. Suddenly they were standing by her car. She searched in her handbag for her keys. ‘Sorry,’ she said looking up at him. ‘I can never find my keys. It’s all the junk I keep in my bag.’
‘Women and their handbags,’ Martin teased. Her hand trembled as she put the key in the door. He held it open for her.
‘Thank you.’
‘My dad used to have a Morris Traveller. You know the model with the wood surround. They’re very reliable.’
‘Yes I’ve heard they are. This one’s a bit old now, but I’m very fond of it,’ Jenny said, wishing she could think of something more interesting to say.
‘I’ll see you on Tuesday then, six-thirty at The Pelham Arms.’ He closed the car door with a solid clunk. Jenny smiled and nodded at him through the window as the engine turned over. She released the handbrake and pulled away. Looking in the side mirror, she could see him standing in the road watching her. Once she was below the windmill and out of his sight, she turned into a side road, and pulled over. She relaxed and revelled in the last twenty minutes, re-living every moment. He did come today, just as she’d hoped, and she was going to see him again.
*
Since the start of the Falklands War, Robert always joined Jenny in the lounge after dinner to watch the extended news. ‘Look at those destroyers Jen. We’ve the best navy in the world. I can’t stand Maggie, but you’ve got to hand it to her, she’s a good leader when we need one.’
‘Well I didn’t vote for her either, but she’s certainly a strong woman.’
‘You look nice in that skirt and jumper. I don’t remember seeing them before.’
‘Mummy bought them on Tuesday – it was so boring. She spent ages in the shops.’ Nicky was on all fours pushing one of his aeroplane fleet across the carpet.
‘You didn’t complain when you were eating that gi-normous ice cream sundae.’ Lorna came into the room dressed completely in yellow; her favourite colour of the moment. It reminded Jenny of the celandines in the churchyard. She wondered if insects would be attracted to her.
‘We had to wait at Christine’s today, ‘cos Mummy was late.’ Nicky looked up at his father for masculine support.
‘It was only a few minutes,’ Jenny added.
‘No it wasn’t, it was ages.’
‘Don’t be such a baby, Nicky.’ Lorna pushed her brother over with her foot.
‘Ouch.’
‘Shut up, both of you, I’m trying to listen to the news,’ Robert said.
Jenny stared at the screen, but the pictures going through her mind were of a place much closer to home. Once she had internalised the afternoon’s events, a fresh worry surfaced. Supposing she was ill, or had an accident? Or he had? How would they contact each other? He didn’t even know her married name. She stood up and went over to a small oak table in the corner of the room and picked up a directory. Finding the page she read, Ballard; Barnard; M.Barretti, 2, Blacksmith Cottages, Lewes Road, Ringmer, alongside his address was the number, Ringmer.3495. I could phone him, she thought, but supposing his wife answered – what would she say? No, she couldn’t do that. She would just have to hope that nothing untoward would happen. It was only a few days away and she would have to be on her death bed not to go. She slid the directory back on the shelf under the table.
‘Jen, did you hear me? I said do you want me to leave the TV on or not?’
‘Oh sorry, no, turn it off. By the way, you know that my classes start next Tuesday, for six weeks?’
‘No, I’d forgotten. What time do you have to be there?’
‘Six-thirty, so I’ll get some food ready before I go,’ Jenny added, feeling that she needed to preserve their normal evening routine.
‘I’d have thought you’d have had enough of studying after finishing your course.’
‘This is different. It’s not work.’
‘It’s still a course. I’m just going downstairs for an hour, Jen. Then I’ll come up and do the washing up.’
‘Can I come down Daddy?’ Nicky jumped up, treading on the wing of one of his aeroplanes.
‘For goodness sake, what are you doing?’ Jenny shouted. ‘You must be more careful, look you’ve broken it.’ Nicky’s face crumpled.
‘Jen, that was a bit harsh. I’m sure it can be mended, if not, it will teach him to be more careful. Won’t it son? Come on, no tears.’
*
The recent shower glistened on the tarmac, as the early evening sun broke through the clouds. Jenny’s stomach knotted.
Stopping at the traffic lights by the prison she could see the terraced house where they had lived before moving to Brighton. She looked away, not wanting anything to disturb her thoughts. She parked just beyond St. Anne’s church and checked her watch, six-twenty-five. There was no sign of Martin’s Land Rover. She opened her bag and squirted some perfume in the hollow of her neck and on the inside of her wrists. Swallowing hard, she locked her car and walked slowly up the hill towards the white washed public house. A westerly wind ruffled her skirt from under her three-quarter length coat. Suppose he isn’t here? she thought, at least she wouldn’t have to feel like a teenager on a first date. No – she wanted him to be here.
She walked slowly up and down – the sign squeaking as she passed under it – unsure whether or not to go inside. On unsteady legs she stepped into the tiled entrance and pushed the door into the saloon bar. She caught her breath. He was standing and smiling at her from behind a small round table at the end of the room.
‘Hello Jenny, sit down, I was wondering whether you might have had second thoughts about coming.’
So he had thought that too. Her mouth was parched. She couldn’t find the breath to speak, so smiled, and took her coat off, draping it on the back of the chair.
‘Wha
t can I get you? A drink, or would you rather have a tea or coffee?’
‘No, I think I’d rather have a drink,’ she gulped to moisten her mouth, ‘a lemonade shandy please.’
Her heart slowed and she noticed there were only two other people in the bar. She stared at Martin as he waited to be served. His straight dark hair rested on the collar of his jacket, while a side-parting forced his hair to flop over his forehead. He was slim, not too tall – about five eleven. Under a dark cord jacket, his shoulders were broad and slightly hunched. He had the look of an academic. The more she stared, the stronger her body reacted. It screamed for her to reach out and touch him. It was hard to carry on a normal conversation. She had been attracted to men before – including Robert – but it had a gentler quality, not this frightening intensity. Was that why she had run away from the churchyard last November? Was this love or lust? How would she know? Men always said they knew the difference. As he carried the drinks to their table, she noticed a dark polo-necked jumper and blue jeans. He doesn’t look as if he’s come straight from work.
‘Here we are.’
Her hand shook slightly as she took her glass.
‘So, where have you got to go for your class?’ He sat opposite her.
‘Oh, farther down the High Street, at St. Michael’s church, where the large clock overhangs the road. Apparently there’s a hall there.’
‘Yes, I know it. Not far away then.’ He started drinking from his pint glass.
‘No, I’ve brought a notebook and pen to make some notes.’ Oh my God, that sounds so childish.
‘That’s very industrious of you.’ The skin around his eyes crinkled as he teased her. ‘I only realised after you’d driven away last week, that I didn’t know your married name.’
So he had thought that too. ‘It’s Maynard – my husband’s Robert – Robert Maynard. His family come from Brighton. We lived here in Lewes when we were first married. Then when Robert went to work for Brighton Council, we moved. We live near Preston Village now. What about you? You said that you changed your job.’
‘Yes, about a year ago. I’d been at the same bank since transferring from Brighton. Financially life was good. The low staff interest rates meant that we could easily afford a large house. But, my heart wasn’t in the job. I didn’t want to feel like that for the next thirty years, staying there, just for the benefits and a pension. That would have been a living death. So about seven years ago I started an open university course, studying in my spare time. I’d always been interested in the countryside so, once I graduated I applied to be a countryside ranger.’
‘Where?’
‘The Seven Sisters Country Park.’
‘Oh,’ so that explains the Land Rover, she thought.
‘You look surprised.’
‘Well, it’s certainly different from working in a bank.’
‘Yes, it is. The money’s a lot less of course, and our house is tiny compared to our old one. But I’m much happier. I don’t work nine to five, and I’m virtually my own boss. Also I was pleased to come back this way. My father’s on his own since Mum died, so I can see him more often. Anna – my sister – she still lives in Southampton. Marilyn was marvellous about the move. She comes from the New Forest. Her family are all still down there.’
Jenny winced at his mention of his wife.
‘You don’t look any older to me, Jenny. I’ve always thought about you and wondered what you were doing.’ Martin smiled and put his glass on a beer mat that advertised a local brewery.
Jenny updated him on her life since leaving school and then added, ‘I’ve just finished a part-time course in accountancy and law at the technical college,’ her voice trembled.
‘That’s good. Is that what you do at the moment?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose I do, only part-time though. I’d like to do more once Nicky, our youngest, is a bit older.’ Jenny sipped her drink.
‘How old is he?’
‘He’s nine, and Lorna’s nearly twelve, she starts high school in September.’
‘You know Jenny, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I was hoping that I might see you again – in the churchyard.’
Her spirit leapt. She smiled and wondered if she should say something similar, but decided not to.
‘Who’s taking your class tonight, I might know him?’
‘Andrew Jones.’
‘Yes, we’ve spoken on the phone a few times. He works for the R.S.P.B. at Shoreham. It should be interesting.’
‘So, you live near Lewes then?’ Jenny blushed as she recalled how she had looked in the telephone directory.
‘Yes, at Ringmer, on the main road, I cut over the Downs by Glyndebourne. Then it’s about twenty minutes to the Country Park. Daniel’s at the community college, in the village. We would have preferred the school here, in Lewes, but there were no vacancies. He’s doing well though, so we’re pleased.’
Jenny bit her lip, she would have to leave soon.
‘My sister always does that when she’s worried.’
‘Does what?’
‘Bites her lower lip.’
She blushed as she thought he might know what she was thinking. ‘I’d better go.’ Jenny lifted her glass and drained the last few drops. She stood up and lifted her coat from the back of her chair.
‘Yes, you can’t be late for the first class.’ Martin smiled sardonically and took her coat, holding it open for her. She was aware of him behind her as she put her arms through the sleeves. She didn’t want to move.
They left the warmth of the bar, and met the chill of the spring evening. ‘I’ll walk you to your car.’
‘I’m just over there,’ Jenny pointed to her car. ‘Where did you park?’ she asked, thinking how unnatural she sounded.
‘There’s a small area at the back. I managed to get a space,’ he paused, ‘Jenny, how do you feel about meeting up again, same time next week? I’d be interested to hear about your class.’
He does want to, she thought, relieved that he had spoken the words she was unable to.
‘Yes, I’d like that too. The time went too quickly, didn’t it?’ Jenny said as she rummaged in her handbag for the key.
Martin grinned and held the car door open. ‘You should be able to park down there, this time in the evening. I’ll see you next Tuesday then, same place.’
*
‘What’s happening to me?’ Jenny asked herself. She whispered the words while washing the breakfast dishes, while driving to work, while cooking the evening meal, and thought it when she sat beside Robert on the sofa and watched the evening news. She wondered how she could prevent her excitement from bursting forth. Jenny had on her own admission, always been a “news freak”, thinking that women who didn’t take an interest in anything outside their domestic world, were shallow and parochial. Now, here she was, watching the escalation of war in the South Atlantic, men and boys being killed, families mourning their losses, and all she could think about was another man – she was no better than the women she had always despised.
*
When Jenny entered the saloon bar the following Tuesday, her face dropped. The corner table was empty. Oh, no, what should she do? Leave, or order a drink and wait? Glancing quickly at the barman, who had his back to her, she turned on her new heels and walked towards the door. She would wait in her car until she could see him arrive.
‘Jenny, where are you going?’ Martin’s darkened outline appeared in the doorway.
‘Oh, I left something in my car, but it doesn’t matter.’ Relief flooded through her. She smiled at him, and turned around.
‘I’m sorry I was late, there was an accident on the A27. I was worried I’d be even later. The tailback went right back to Firle.’ He wiped the palm of his hand across his forehead. ‘I could do with a drink.’
‘I’ll buy them this time,’ said Jenny.
‘No, you sit down. I’ll get them, same as last week?’
‘Yes please.’
‘So how
did the first class go?’ Jenny felt his fingers gently brush against her own as she took her glass. Martin stood and gulped a quarter of his glass before sitting opposite her.
‘It was good, I enjoyed it. There’s about fifteen of us. Andrew spoke a little about the various habitats, and how they were formed. Then he showed us a few slides. He plans to go into each habitat in more depth, it’s downland this week.’
‘He’s bound to mention the Seven Sisters, although he might leave it until he covers the coast.’ Martin took another gulp of his drink. ‘That’s better.’ He smiled across the table at Jenny and fumbled in his coat pocket. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’
‘ Jenny was taken aback. She had assumed that he didn’t smoke.
‘No,’ she said, remembering how she had pestered Robert to give up when the children were small.
‘I don’t smoke a lot, just socially, normally with a drink to relax. Daniel hates it. I’ve promised him I’ll give up soon.’ He offered the open packet to Jenny.
She had a vision of a boy – a younger version of Martin – vehemently taking his father to task.
‘No, thank you, I don’t, not now. I did for a while when I was younger – everybody did didn’t they? But I gave up when I was expecting Lorna.’
She thought of her daughter’s indignation at anything she decided was an unsuitable activity for parents. She certainly wouldn’t approve of her mother sitting here.
‘Very sensible, I shall have to follow your example, won’t I?’ He smiled his teasing smile and flicked his lighter. He inhaled deeply, leant back in his chair and stared at Jenny.
‘So what does Robert do?’
‘He works in the Highways Office.’
‘Is he interested in the countryside?’
‘No, not really, but he makes an effort because of me; his main hobby is model railways – there’s one in our cellar – and he plays cricket sometimes. He’s in the work’s team. Is, is – Marilyn interested?’ Jenny forced herself to say her name.
‘Not really, she’s a sporty girl. She represented Hampshire when she was younger – athletics. That’s how we met. I used to do some DJ-ing in a pub in the evenings, and she and some others came in for a drink. She doesn’t participate anymore, but enjoys taking Daniel to events. He’s inherited her sporting ability, so she’s kept busy driving him around at weekends. Most Saturdays she’s gone all day. You have to do it for them, don’t you?’
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