Watch for Me by Twilight

by Kirsty Ferry

  ‘What have you decided on?’

  ‘That will be a surprise.’ Cassie grinned. ‘But I’m not cutting my hair, don’t worry.’

  ‘Good.’ Elodie frowned and grabbed a handful of her own hair. ‘Don’t do it. I’ve still got about four inches to go. I’m never being so radical again.’

  ‘You don’t have to be.’ Cassie looked at her sidelong. ‘Unless you’re considering walking out on my brother? I wouldn’t blame you if you were.’

  Elodie smiled. ‘No. I’m not going anywhere. Anyway, it’s not like I could run away very quickly. I think even Hughie could catch me.’

  ‘You could drive off in your Range Rover?’ The Range Rover had been part of Elodie’s divorce settlement from her ex.

  ‘Too difficult to fit behind the wheel.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Really. Don’t worry. Alex is all right.’

  ‘He’s still brooding on that letter though.’

  ‘He is, but he’s hiding it better. He’s still making calls. Doing research. Waiting for people to call him back. He’s getting some control over the situation. Mostly, he’s sweet and kind. He’s more concerned about me, which is, equally, horribly embarrassing to admit, and very lovely to admit.’ She dipped her head briefly, trying to hide her blushes. ‘Another letter came, you know. He asked me not to tell you and he’d burned it before I had a chance to get it from him. I don’t even think he opened it. Sorry. Anyway. How are you about it all now? About your mum trying to see you?’

  Cassie shrugged, part of her blindsided by this latest announcement, part of her, truthfully, not very surprised at all. ‘Trying not to think about it. She knows where we are. I can’t believe he did that. Well. Actually, I can. Good grief.’ The feeling settled like a boulder in the pit of her stomach again, as it always did when she thought about it. She’d shoved the address she’d copied into the furthest recess of a drawer in the kitchen, and had busied herself with working on the Country House Party weekend and having wicked thoughts about Aidan.

  But finally the day came when Aidan could come back, and she found herself bouncing around excitedly as Aidan’s bike pulled smoothly through the gates, first thing in the morning. ‘Lady Cassandra.’ He climbed off the bike and bowed. ‘How lovely to see you again.’

  ‘And you.’ Cassie smiled and raised her face for him to kiss. ‘Don’t call me that, by the way.’

  Aidan laughed and obliged, kissing her tenderly on the lips and smiling down at her. ‘I’m looking at the changing rooms today. You’re welcome to stay. But I do have to put my work head on, unfortunately.’

  ‘I’d love to stay. I’ve missed you. I’ve had my work head on too. I’ve sorted out costumes and décor for certain parts of the house. We’ve got some old cine tape of the village celebrating the coronation of George VI in 1936 too. There was an awesome street party. I’m going to project it on a nice whitewashed wall somewhere. Maybe in the squash courts. But I’d like to stay with you for a little while, very much.’

  And so Cassie hung around the changing rooms, possibly a little longer than she maybe should have done. But there was something in the way Aidan frowned while he concentrated that made his eyes darken and his jaw set a little tensely. He looked, as she and Kate always joked about handsome men, divine.

  She wondered how knotted his shoulders would be under his t-shirt and imagined herself touching them, helping to unknot them by rubbing them for him as they relaxed in her cottage …

  Her imagination had more flights of fancy than any war poet had ever done. But there was still a little fizzing thrill as he turned to her, his face full of concentration, and fixed his eyes on hers. ‘I think I’ll need a bit more access to these parts of the building. There could be more work than I anticipated.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Cassie’s heart plummeted somewhere into her feet. ‘Is that going to affect the schedule?’ The panic rose, overtaking her heart somewhere around her stomach and making it churn unpleasantly.

  ‘No, not if you’re intending to keep this area all private for the time being.’ Aidan’s face cleared and he suddenly smiled. ‘Sorry. Did I panic you there? I didn’t mean to.’

  ‘Oh!’ Cassie’s stomach paused in its churning as if awaiting further instructions. ‘Yes. I want it to be private. Is it a problem?’

  ‘No, no. I just don’t think anyone should have access to it while I’m working on it. I’m going to prioritise the public areas anyway, but I just needed to check.’

  Cassie nodded. ‘No, it’s fine.’

  ‘Good.’ Aidan’s smile widened. ‘I still can’t quite get over the fact that a letter lay in here for so many years. In the future, it simply won’t happen. Nobody’s going to start tracing back an interesting email, are they?’

  ‘I guess not.’ She nodded, considering it.

  ‘People don’t write so many letters nowadays.’

  And then it was out before she could stop it. ‘Well, my mother clearly does. Twice now, by all accounts. Although Alex didn’t even open the second one, and I’m not supposed to know about it.’

  Aidan put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her, concerned. ‘Wow. I’m not quite sure what to say about that one.’

  Cassie folded her arms and shook her head. ‘I’m not sure either, to be honest. I more or less said the same to Elodie yesterday. It’s like it’s always there, though. Just under the surface.’

  ‘Did you want to hear from her? Were you happy to hear from her?’

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t know. It’s just a bit … weird. The more I think about it, the weirder it gets. I’ve kind of lived my life without her, with a pre-conception of her. And yet to get a letter which makes it almost sound as if she’s missed us? As if everything I’ve ever been told about her might be wrong?’ She shook her head. ‘And she apologised to me as well. For leaving me when I was a baby.’ She looked down. ‘Said something about post-natal depression.’

  Aidan removed his hands and folded his own arms. ‘It happens, I guess.’

  ‘Yes. It does.’ She sighed. ‘But I don’t know if I should believe her. My father told us one story, and she wants us to believe another one. My father isn’t here to defend what he said, is he?’ It was an echo of her brother’s comment. But Alex did have a point. ‘And, like I told you, suddenly she wants to see us. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that.’

  ‘And what do you want to do?’

  ‘Again, I don’t know.’ She laughed, embarrassed. ‘Just call me Miss Indecisive, eh?’

  ‘I don’t blame you. It’s a huge decision to make. If you ever want to chat it through, well …’ He shrugged. ‘I’m happy to listen.’

  ‘Really?’ She looked up at him and attempted a smile. ‘You were just supposed to be here to fix up the Spa.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ He grinned. ‘But I’d like to think we’ve sort of moved on from that? I don’t usually go for fish and chips with my clients. I certainly don’t kiss them. Maybe I sometimes have a polite coffee with them, as we discuss breeze blocks or something.’

  ‘Breeze blocks? How boring!’

  ‘Very boring. That’s why I have to team them with coffee. Look.’ Aidan checked his watch. ‘I usually have a break around ten thirty in the office. Can you give me fifteen minutes, then I’ll be at a point I can stop, and we can have a walk to that nice coffee shop in the village? If you fancy it, that is. It’s okay if you don’t. I’ll just go myself.’

  ‘Fifteen minutes works for me.’ Cassie’s smile, this time, took no effort at all. ‘I’ll just pop into the squash courts and see what’s going on in there, as the men were making all sorts of noises the other day and I didn’t dare check. Then I’ll be ready to come with you.’

  ‘That’s great. I’ll come and find you in fifteen – nope—’ he looked at his watch again, ‘fourteen minutes.’ He hesitated, then dropped a brief kiss on her lips.

  Cassie felt herself colour, but it was a nice feeling, ‘See you then!’ And she hurried off to the
squash courts, wondering how the offer of a simple coffee could make her feel one thousand percent happier.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  December 1941

  Just before Christmas, the whole set of Stella’s friends, minus Stephen, descended on her. In the end, Stella had never felt too lonely in the comfortable house that Leo was still renting in his name in Bath, and it was lovely that her friends kept their word and popped in as often as they could.

  Her father had always told her they were a shallow bunch of layabouts, but Stella would emphatically disagree. If they had been like that, her Big Announcement as she now called it, would have sent them hightailing into the sunset, and that had most certainly not happened.

  The neighbours near the rented house had accepted her story that her husband had been killed in action – it wasn’t too far from the truth, really, so Stella didn’t find it a chore to remember to stick to this tale. Ironically, it had been Rob who told her that if she was ever to spin a great big fib, it was best if you stuck as close to the truth as possible.

  Rob’s words came back to her as she fended off well-meaning neighbours who pressed for more information than she was prepared to share: Yes, her poor husband had been in the RAF. Yes, he’d flown quite a few successful missions and it was tragic. No, it hadn’t been a case of crashing his plane in a training mission. No, she had no idea where his grave was – that was a hard one, because it made it too real and caused her eyes to fill up with tears. No, she hadn’t been married very long. Yes, she was lucky she had friends like Helen and Leo to help her out. No, he had no other family either.

  She’d kept herself busy so far with a little job at the post office. Her father had abruptly decided to stop paying her an allowance, telling her that as a nurse she was clearly earning her own money now and didn’t need to live on his charity. Leo had told her not to worry, he would make sure she was provided for, but she shook her head and said they’d done enough for her, then found herself a job.

  Despite her protests, Leo paid her a small allowance anyway, and Stella began to save the money she didn’t need. She had an idea that it would help her out when the baby was born, for who could predict the future? It wouldn’t be so easy to find work as a young mother, but once Leo and Helen took the baby back to Hartsford … Her stomach churned at the thought. The baby was very much part of her now. And she knew it had to happen but the thought of giving it up made her want to curl up in a ball and howl with despair.

  ‘It just feels rather strange to be sort of married and very pregnant, and to just go back to being me afterwards,’ she told Helen one day. Helen hugged her and smiled and said it felt strange for her, too, even though she was married for real.

  ‘You’re doing splendidly,’ Helen assured her.

  Stella tugged at her horrid, serviceable, cotton dress that had been let out and let out again and smiled wryly. ‘I always imagined I’d be a very glamorous mother-to-be and have lots and lots of lovely new clothes to see me through. If I keep getting bigger, I don’t know what I’ll do. These seams don’t have much material left in them. Of course, I also imagined I’d have a husband to see me through it as well. How wrong I was.’

  But at least, this Christmas season, Stella had lots of friends around her, even though she’d lose them all, apart from Vronnie, for the day itself. Stephen was in no fit mental state at the moment, and was, as far as Stella could tell, in some sort of institution whilst he recovered. Stephen and Vronnie had married quietly a few weeks after Leo and Helen. To all intents and purposes, they were still newlyweds, and Stella was sure Vronnie would rather be spending Christmas with her husband than with her, but God love her, she had never once complained. In fact, she had been the one to suggest the get-together and cheerfully offer herself for company as and when she was required.

  Stella had heard that Esmond Romilly had died in November, leaving Decca Mitford a widow with a new, nine-month old baby, and she spared a thought for her one-time heroine and the horrible parallels that had, finally, occurred in their lives. She doubted Decca would be welcomed back into the Mitford household with open arms, and hoped the poor woman had some friends as good as Stella’s little crowd, to spend Christmas with.

  As they all sat around a small fire in the comfortable drawing room and exchanged gifts – much smaller and less extravagant than those they’d exchanged in the past – Stella cast a glance at Vronnie. Her pretty face was strained behind the smile, and every so often she kept going very quiet and her expression clouded. Stella leaned over to her and touched the back of her hand. Vronnie jumped and looked at Stella.

  Her smile switched on almost automatically. ‘Hallo, darling. Do you need anything? Another cushion for your poor aching back?’ She nodded at Stella’s tummy. ‘There’s a lot of it on the front, isn’t there? But I think you’ve expanded everywhere to be honest. Sideways as well. It must be terribly uncomfortable. Don’t worry, though, I don’t think you can entirely tell from the back you’re in an interesting condition.’

  Despite herself, Stella giggled. ‘You can if I walk anywhere. I feel like a penguin. I probably look like one too.’

  ‘Actually, you do.’

  ‘Oh, ha ha!’ Stella smiled at her friend, then her face became serious. ‘No. I’m not concerned about my predicament at the moment. It’s you I’m worried about. Are you missing Stephen?’

  Vronnie dropped her head and stared at her hands. She picked up a piece of ribbon her present had been tied with and began to smooth it out, then wind it through her fingers. It would no doubt be saved for the next birthday gift that someone got from her.

  ‘Yes, I’m missing him. But I feel guilty as well. I’m actually pleased he’s where he is at the moment.’ She raised her head and Stella was astonished to see tears glistening. ‘He tried to kill himself, you know.’ Stella hadn’t known, and was sure her face must have given her feelings away. ‘He feels terrible that he survived, and Anthony didn’t,’ continued Vronnie. ‘He feels terrible that all his limbs are in working order and Oscar’s aren’t. And he feels terrible about Rob disappearing. He says he feels he should be back out there, and not safe and sound here. Oh, Stella, it’s been awful.’

  Stella had no words. She glanced around at the little group and knew that, for every one of them, things had changed irrevocably.

  ‘I miss our summers,’ said Vronnie suddenly. ‘I miss being silly and carefree. I don’t think I like this new world.’

  ‘I wish I’d appreciated it more when we could be silly and carefree.’ Stella rested her hand on her ever-increasing bump. ‘I just hope this little one has a better world to grow up in and it’s not all for nothing.’

  ‘I agree.’ Vronnie sat up straighter and seemed to pull herself together with a little shake. Her smile switched on again. ‘But, we must be grateful for the things we have left, and—’

  ‘Hallo! Can we just have everyone’s attention?’ Oscar knocked a fork against a glass.

  Stella and Vronnie turned and stared. There was a spark of the old Oscar there and Stella’s heart warmed to him. He’d even been joking about having some new legs fitted and the way he’d been trying to relearn how to walk again. It was worse, he said, than trying to keep one’s balance after knocking back three bottles of champagne. They’d all laughed, and Lois had told him that he’d never been able to hold three glasses of the stuff without falling over, never mind three bottles. Oscar had shrugged and agreed and they’d all laughed again.

  But this, it seemed, was a more serious announcement. ‘I’ve finally done it,’ he said. ‘I’ve popped the question to Rosie and she’s said yes.’ His face coloured and he looked around, as if seeking approval from everyone.

  ‘Oh, my God! Oscar! Rosie! That’s wonderful news.’ Stella struggled out of her seat and waddled over to him. She leaned over awkwardly, apologising if her stomach got in the way, but she really had to be the first to hug them both.

  Oscar laughed and hugged her back. Rosie blushed and giggled lik
e a virgin maid, although everybody knew she was nothing of the sort. She was hugged by everyone as well.

  ‘Why ever did it take you so bloody long?’ cried Mary, cracking open a bottle of champagne Leo and Helen had brought with them from the Hartsford cellars.

  ‘Because I wanted to be standing at the end of the aisle waiting for her.’ Oscar flushed ‘And I want to lead her around the dance floor afterwards. And I think I might be able to do that soon.’

  ‘I think so too.’ Rosie nodded, and there was such love in her eyes when she looked at him, that Stella bit hard on her lip, lest the tears started again. She was delighted for them, she really was. It was a bright spot in all the awfulness. But a tiny nub of jealousy sprang up as she wished with all her heart that she had the opportunity to hear Rob propose one more time.

  She knew her answer would be the same as it had been in May – and she didn’t care if her father agreed to it or not.

  July, Present Day

  Cassie was oddly excited – not just because she was going out with Aidan again, but because of where they were going. While having coffee that morning, he’d asked her to come on another bike ride with him in the evening, but he’d been very cagey and just told her the destination was secret. Try as she might, she had been unable to draw any information out of him.

  ‘Trust me,’ he’d said. ‘It’ll be absolutely worth it, I promise.’

  She was trying again now to find out the destination, and failing just as spectacularly.

  ‘Just follow me,’ Aidan said, laughing. And, in the absence of a good enough reason not to, she did so willingly.

  They rode for about fifteen minutes, and then Aidan pulled up at the end of a driveway. He stopped and took his helmet off, then turned to face her. ‘Here it is. Fenwharton House. Rob’s childhood home. You can’t see much of it from here, but we can go up the drive and get right up to it. Have a better look.’