Watch for Me by Twilight

by Kirsty Ferry

  ‘I do.’ Stella carefully drew a line under Rob’s name. She was wondering if she could get him a room quite close to hers for their next party. She was planning one for the end of the month, to celebrate Rob’s latest success in the theatre. It was just a small play, in some out of the way theatre near Stratford upon Avon, but as Stella told him, it was almost like being Shakespeare.

  And anyway, it would be nice to have a little get together. She knew for a fact that Stephen had a new car, a very lovely Buick Roadmaster convertible, and he was dying to show it off to everyone.

  ‘Ezzy. Things might change drastically.’

  ‘They might.’ She looked up at him, defiantly. ‘But I doubt it’ll change by the end of the month, so I need to plan my party. If you don’t mind.’

  ‘God, you’re impossible!’ Leo turned on his heel and stomped off.

  Stella turned back to her list. She laid her pen down. She had hidden it well, but she had been shaking when Leo mentioned her friends enlisting.

  Rob. Oh, God. Not Rob. Please, not Rob.

  The war had, of course, been all they talked about when they arrived. After the perfunctory compliments on the convertible Buick, and after they’d all had a turn racing it through the grounds, or standing up, hanging onto the windshield shrieking whilst someone else raced it through the grounds, they congregated at the Spa and talked about the war. Rob’s play should have been the main focus, and Stella felt a little bad for him. Rotten, bloody war, spoiling Rob’s success.

  ‘I should imagine we’d all get Officer commissions,’ said Anthony. ‘That’s the way it goes, isn’t it?’ Unlike Stephen and Oscar, Anthony looked very worried. ‘I never thought we’d have to face this in our generation. I thought we were lucky not to have to do National Service, but we would at least have been a little prepared if we’d suffered that indignity.’

  National Service had been introduced for single men between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two, back in the spring, and they’d all slapped each other on the back and said that thank God they were too old for that carry on.

  ‘My father always said the Great War had been a sort of cull.’ Oscar frowned. ‘Not the best way to go about eradicating the surplus population. But I guess we have to show willing and all that malarkey. We get to see some of the world this way, I suppose – and we get paid for it too.’

  ‘It’ll be a grand adventure.’ Stephen raised a glass. ‘Something to tell our grandchildren about.’

  ‘If we last long enough to have grandchildren. Seems like we’ll be the poor buggers being culled this time,’ said Rob, wryly. He looked at Stella and grinned. ‘Don’t worry. We won’t go unless we have to.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go at all. Any of you!’ Stella looked around at her group of friends and wondered whether they’d ever do this again. The way the boys were talking, at least three of them would be scurrying off to enlist themselves, just as soon as they could.

  Rob leaned into her and his breath was warm, champagne-scented as he whispered in her ear. ‘I’m not going anywhere just yet, don’t you worry. D’you think I’d leave you here all alone, at the mercy of so many other men? And if I go, I go in an aircraft. Much better.’

  Stella shook her head. ‘No. You’re not going. Ever. You’re staying with me. I insist.’

  Rob leaned closer and nuzzled into her neck. ‘I am putty in your hands. I am yours to command. Just tell me where and when you want me, and I’ll be there.’

  ‘Our secret room? At twilight?’ Her voice trembled, despite the fact she tried to make a joke of it. But she could barely wait.

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  He was there. He made sure he was waiting there, long before the appointed hour. He shifted from foot to foot, watching through the gloaming for her coming.

  ‘Rob!’ Her voice floated through the night as she hurried towards him. ‘You’re early.’

  ‘I couldn’t wait.’

  He held his arms wide and she hurtled into them. ‘God, I know what you mean. I was desperate to see you alone. I love our friends, but, you know.’ She looked up at him and her smile was mischievous and teasing. ‘And I’m bored of war talk.’

  ‘Indeed. And it’s difficult to do this in public, isn’t it?’ He pulled her close and kissed her.

  ‘No, I disagree. We can do that in public quite easily. It’s the rest of it we can’t do. Or maybe we could, if we were absolutely very daring. Come on. It’s too cold for the river tonight, but the room will be quite warm enough.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be.’ And he allowed her to lead him behind the changing rooms and into the secret room.

  ‘Are you all right, Rob?’ Stella asked, as they settled down in front of the fire. ‘Your eyes seem more – intense – than usual.’

  She frowned, delightfully, and he smiled. ‘Intense. I like it. Yes. Perhaps they are a little more intense than usual. I’ve been thinking a lot.’

  ‘Hmm. I can tell. Look, you’ve got a furrow – right here.’ She reached up and pressed her finger to a spot between his eyebrows. ‘The war will be over by Christmas. They’re all saying it. Don’t worry about that.’

  ‘I doubt it will be over by Christmas, my love. I think it might go on a little while longer.’ He reached out and traced his finger down her cheek. ‘Which is why I should perhaps ask you something.’

  ‘Oh? And what might that be?’

  ‘I should perhaps ask you to marry me. I know – it might not be the best of circumstances, and I know your father will rail against it like nothing else, but I have to try.’

  ‘Rob! Why should you “perhaps” feel like that?’ She seemed genuinely surprised and pulled away. ‘We do very well as we are, don’t we? I know we’ve talked about it, but we always said we would wait until we were really, truly ready to settle down, and you had a job you loved that could easily support a family.’ They had talked about it practically every time they met, but they always decided to wait just that little longer. Marriage meant responsibilities and growing up, and Stella didn’t feel as if she was quite there yet. And Rob was determined that he should have a job. The trust fund was enough for him now, as a single young man; but it wouldn’t keep Stella and possibly a young, boisterous family in very much luxury – and that, he told her honestly, was what he wanted for her. Nothing but the best.

  And in truth, Stella had broached it, very gently, with the Earl and he had almost burst a blood vessel. He wouldn’t even contemplate it. His only daughter, he ranted, was destined for a title, not to be the wife of a jumped-up Merchant Adventurer’s son, trust fund or no trust fund.

  ‘You’re right.’ Rob threw himself onto his back and stared at the ceiling. ‘I don’t suppose there’ll be much call for playwrights or poets in the next few months. It was just a thought. Another war will just cause so much disruption in the world that I want to make sure you’re safe. Create a little haven for you. If I married you, it would prove how much I love you, and how these last few years have meant everything to me. It was never a wild interlude, never playing around before I suddenly grew up and had to become responsible. I want to prove it to you, that’s all.’

  He knew that he didn’t want to take her away from Hartsford, and all the privileges she had enjoyed throughout her life, simply on a whim.

  ‘I know that I’m not a “wild interlude” as you put it. I know full well that you and I are meant to be together, and we will be. But there’s no hurry for it, is there? And anyway, I think you might be wrong about not making it as a poet or playwright,’ said Stella, surprising him. ‘Lots of theatres put on all sorts of rousing shows during the Great War. You might get a chance to – rouse – too.’

  ‘To what?’ He turned on his side and faced her, his eyebrows rising.

  ‘To – rouse.’ She coloured. ‘Have I just made that word up?’

  ‘Not at all. It just sounds peculiar in that context. I’m sure I could do something similar though, right now, if you give me a few moments.’


  She giggled. ‘Rouse away. Please.’

  ‘If only my audiences were all so pliable,’ he groaned.

  ‘I’m not the audience. I’m a very willing participant.’ She produced a silk scarf from somewhere, blue and white, and trailed it down Rob’s body. It made him catch his breath and shudder at the sensations.

  And she proceeded to prove to him she was very willing indeed, over and over again.

  Chapter Ten

  Present Day

  Cassie’s stomach did that little lurchy thing it usually did whenever she was excited and the adrenalin fired up. She could just imagine Elodie laughing and saying something about Fate taking a hand in it – but she didn’t much care about Fate. She cared about getting this place up and running for August. She was enthused all over again.

  ‘So that’s one thing I can tick off my list.’ Cassie shifted the bag of bunting to a more comfortable angle and headed over to the squash courts, Margaret following behind and catching the tails of fabric that refused to stay put in the bag. ‘I’ll pop these in here for now.’

  Aidan was peering at the pool, and had wandered over to the diving board, as if he was assessing it.

  ‘I think that man will do you a good deal.’ Cassie was sure she heard a note of amusement in Margaret’s voice.

  ‘Meaning what exactly?’ She wrestled with the squash court door for the second time that day.

  ‘Just what I say. It won’t be a cheap job, not with everything you threw at him over there, but he’ll do it the best he can for you.’

  ‘He’s got a vested interest in the place.’ Cassie thrust her hip against the door so it swung open. The smell enveloped her again and they walked inside, their footsteps echoing in the building. ‘His great-great-uncle or whatever he was, so many generations ago, used to visit us. Aidan’s got a picture in that book. It was Robert Edwards.’

  ‘The war poet?’ Margaret somehow managed to sound both in awe and star struck at the same time. ‘I’ve read his work. I knew he was local, but that’s a wonderful connection to make. Fancy that.’

  ‘He wasn’t a very good artist. But I recognised the Spa.’

  ‘Well he can’t have been that bad an artist!’ Margaret’s voice was quite snippy. ‘Not if you can recognise the place.’

  Cassie didn’t bother trying to explain how out of proportion the tennis players were, or how they couldn’t see what the girl by the pool looked like. The rest of the picture was okay. At least it transposed nicely onto the Hall scenery.

  ‘Yes, I suppose. We’re getting quite a lot of mementoes, aren’t we?’ She looked around, imagining the displays again. Her heart leapt at the idea there was maybe an end in sight and the weekend could be a success.

  ‘Lots of them,’ agreed Margaret. ‘Will the young man let us keep the book, do you think?’

  ‘I hope so. I’d be careful with it. I’d make sure it was in a case and everything. People have been so kind, haven’t they? We can do this!’ Cassie danced a little jig on the floor.

  ‘It’s going to be perfect. You’ll be getting Elodie’s job properly next.’

  ‘No thank you!’ Cassie stopped prancing around. ‘She can keep it. As soon as she’s had the babies and she’s back, it’s all hers. This is a one off. Honestly, I don’t know how she hasn’t caved in with stress before now.’

  ‘I don’t think she’s as fragile as she looks.’ Margaret smiled. ‘She’s had a rough ride since her divorce, and she’s suffered for it with her health and all, but underneath it I suspect she’s a bit of a tough cookie. She’d have to be, working in London under that sort of pressure.’

  ‘I don’t envy her. Definitely not!’

  ‘I don’t know. I think seeing all those beautiful gowns would be worth it, don’t you? She had special access to the V&A collections you know.’ Margaret sighed. She had always fancied herself in a crinoline, Cassie knew.

  ‘Hmm. You know what she told me a few weeks ago the very first time I mentioned costumes for this weekend? She told me a 1923 advert for maternity wear in Good Housekeeping was aimed at women who wanted to be “entirely free from embarrassment of a noticeable appearance during a trying period.” Imagine that!’

  ‘How does she know all of this?’ asked Margaret in wonderment.

  ‘I don’t know, but I suspect her qualifications are a lot more interesting than mine,’ Cassie said, a little ruefully.

  ‘Can we really dress up then? We usually do.’

  ‘I don’t know why you’re even asking me.’ Cassie laughed. ‘You’re the experts – you and Delilah. You’ve seen all this before – and seen it done properly. I’m just muddling along.’

  ‘You’re muddling along very well.’ Margaret cast a look at the door, where the sunlight came in, stark against the gloom of the squash courts. ‘And I think he is going to be happy to help you.’

  ‘Margaret, stop it! I’m not interested. He’s walked in off the street and that’s it. It’s fortunate, that’s all.’ She could feel her cheeks colouring though, even as she spoke the words. Come on, he was an extraordinarily good-looking biker, after all. He had a bit of the Byron and Shelley thing going on as well – some sort of irresistible pull and a sort of mussed-up, careless look about him that suited him deliciously. Something almost other-worldly.

  ‘It’s a sign.’ Margaret smiled beatifically. ‘It’s about time as well. You’re ready for a nice man. Trust me.’

  Cassie decided to ignore her. She probably was ready for a nice man – more than ready. But why should she think a random stranger that had crossed her path – even one that ticked all the boxes of her imaginary list – would feel the same? This wasn’t a book or a fairy tale. This was real life and that sort of stuff just didn’t happen.

  ‘Oh, I’d best head off.’ Margaret checked her watch. ‘I’m due in the gift shop.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks again for the bunting.’ Cassie smiled with genuine warmth.

  ‘Our pleasure. See you later.’ And with that, Margaret hurried away, back towards the more populated areas of the estate.

  Cassie put the bunting in a corner and walked into the centre of the building. She stared around it one more time, glad that she’d finally managed to achieve something that seemed a lot more important, suddenly, than cream teas and ice-cream. She had bunting. And someone to help with the structural nightmares.

  A movement caught her attention on the balcony and she looked up quickly, just in time to see the hazy figure of a girl running along it. Her red hair was long and wavy, bouncing around her shoulders as she threw herself at another hazy figure; taller than her and, Cassie thought, a man. She blinked and the image had disappeared.

  A little smile curled up the corner of her lips. Had that been Stella? It was more than likely. The Hall was playing its recordings again, just so she didn’t forget what was important. She had a feeling that the man was Robert, but she knew there was no way she could go back outside and tell Aidan that one.

  Aidan bent down and broke a piece of rusted iron from the ladder which was attached to the side of the pool. The place was in desperate need of some work. Even if they didn’t get the pool open for August, it needed to be passed through Health and Safety at the very least. The words ‘Risk Assessment’ hung unpleasantly in the air and he pulled a face. He ought to tell her.

  He looked up and glimpsed a fleeting figure disappear around the corner holding a racquet. For a moment he thought it was Cassie, but then saw Cassie coming out of the building, minus her bag of bunting.

  He hurried over to her and caught her just before she locked up. ‘I’ve had a look at that ladder, and I’ll definitely have to come back with some proper equipment.’

  ‘Of course.’ Cassie smiled. ‘But while we’re here, d’you just want to pop your head inside this ramshackle old place to see if you really think it’s salvageable, before you waste any time on it?’

  ‘I’m sure it’s fine. I—’ He stopped and peered inside. ‘Oh. I thought they were still in use. I was
sure I saw someone come out just before with a racquet. And when I was prowling around the gates in February I saw a couple heading that way. I must have been imagining it.’ He stared around at the clutter and the disrepair and scratched his head. ‘Well. Yes. I can do it, but we’ll have to do a separate survey in here.’ He turned to her, feeling a little confused. ‘Is that okay?’

  ‘That’s fine.’ A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. ‘There’s just me here and as you can see, it’s not really a court we can use at the minute. It might have been Margaret you saw? She’s been helping us move bits and bobs around.’

  ‘Maybe. Oh, well.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Your court issues are not insurmountable.’

  ‘Are they not? That’s good.’ Her shoulders almost sagged with relief. He saw her cast her eyes up to the balcony quickly. ‘Yes – nobody can use this place properly at the moment at all. Just the ghosts, I think. They’re quite weightless, so they’re very safe on that rickety old balcony.’

  ‘Ghosts. I see.’ He grinned, humouring her. ‘Maybe Robert’s here. That would be good.’

  ‘Maybe Robert and my wayward relative Stella are both here. I’m sure she’s in his picture after all. Who’s to say?’

  He laughed. ‘It’s a possibility. Okay. I’m really sorry, but much as I’d love to stay and have a proper look, I have to get back to the office. I’ll be in touch, all right?’

  ‘Definitely.’ Her smile lit up the dim old building, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

  Cassie woke up the next day feeling a lot more positive. It finally seemed possible that she could get this thing off the ground. With a bounce in her step she went over to the Hall. She couldn’t wait to tell Elodie and Alex that she’d found someone to help her. And it was rather splendid that the person she had found just happened to be Aidan Edwards.

  So it was with a sense of crashing disappointment that she flung open the door to the family wing at the side of the Hall and saw two very gloomy faces raised to greet her. Well, to be more precise, one face was more stormy than gloomy, and that was Alex’s. Elodie just looked pale and stunned, but there was a definite sense of gloom over the pair of them as they stood at opposite ends of the kitchen.