by Lily Baxter
Her grandparents were delighted to welcome her home, but they were busy all day and Rita spent most of her time house hunting, which left Miranda alone with Annie and Dickens, neither of whom had much in the way of conversation. Annie’s main topics were rationing and Elzevir, who was always doing something to upset her. Miranda knew she ought to be looking for work, but she could not settle down to anything. She spent her days helping about the house and in the garden.
She was busy weeding the vegetable bed one morning in preparation for planting lettuce seed when she heard a footstep on the gravel path. She looked up and saw Jack coming towards her. ‘Hello. Why aren’t you at work?’
‘You haven’t heard, have you?’
‘What haven’t I heard?’
‘He’s home. Raif arrived back at Thornleigh Court yesterday.’
Miranda scrambled to her feet. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely certain. It was in the local paper.’
‘Then it must be true.’
‘I’ve got the rest of the day off and I’m going to see him. I feel it’s only right that I should tell him about Rita and me before he hears it from someone else. I know he cared a lot for Izzie and I don’t want him to think I’ve betrayed her memory.’
‘I suppose that’s the right thing to do, but why are you telling me all this?’
‘I’d like you to come with me, Miranda. Just for moral support, of course.’
She was going to refuse, but she knew she must face Raif at some point. ‘Okay, if you really want me to.’
They drove to Thornleigh in the newly resurrected Chloe. The house had survived, even though the parkland had been ploughed up to grow crops and the American army had requisitioned it as a base for the duration. They had left now, with only the marks of caterpillar tyres scarring the ground to bear witness to their occupation of the old house.
Miranda was suddenly nervous as Mrs Beasley showed them out onto the terrace, but Raif greeted them civilly enough, and Jack did all the talking. She was free to observe Raif closely and she could see a change in him that went deeper than the pallor of his skin and the gauntness of his face. He seemed to have retreated to an inner world where no one and nothing could intrude upon his deepest thoughts. He listened politely to everything Jack said, but his lean fingers drummed incessantly on the wrought-iron table and he seemed ill at ease.
‘So you don’t mind that I’ve remarried,’ Jack said as he finished his carefully prepared speech. ‘You don’t think it’s too soon?’
Raif shook his head. ‘One thing I’ve learned in all this is that life goes on, if you’re lucky. You have to do what is best for you.’
‘What about you, Raif?’ Miranda said softly. ‘Have you any plans for the future?’
He flicked a sideways glance at her but he did not look her directly in the eye. ‘It’s early days, but I think I might just stay here and manage the estate. Our chap bought it at El Alamein and the place has gone to rack and ruin during the war.’
‘I never thought of you as a farmer,’ Miranda said, smiling.
‘Nothing is the same now.’ Raif raised himself from his seat, holding out his hand. ‘Thanks for coming to see me, Beddoes. I don’t suppose we’ll meet very often, but I think we should put the past behind us. My father has retired and he and Mother are going to live in the States.’
Jack stood up and shook his hand. ‘You’re right. It’s time that peace was declared between the Carstairs and the Beddoes clans.’
Raif turned to Miranda, meeting her gaze with a shadow of a smile. ‘Goodbye and good luck, Miranda. Grab any chance you get for happiness.’ He turned and walked into the house, leaving them staring after him.
She rose to her feet. ‘What was all that about?’
‘I think it was his way of ending a chapter in his life and yours.’
‘Is that why you brought me here today?’
‘Blame Rita. It was her idea.’
‘I’ll have something to say to her when I see her again.’
‘Thank you would be good. She’s done you a favour, because I don’t think there ever was anything serious between you and Raif. It was a bit of a romantic myth – Capulets and Montagues and all that rot. Mother’s affair with Max made it all seem inevitable, but it wasn’t.’
Miranda smiled as she followed him towards the car, which was parked outside the main entrance. ‘You’ve grown quite wise in your old age, Jack.’
He stopped and waited for her to catch up, linking her hand through his arm. ‘And you’ll take the first opportunity to go to that convalescent home and knock some sense into your chap’s head.’
‘I will,’ she said meekly. ‘I’ll be on the first train tomorrow morning.’
‘I’ve been saving my petrol ration for just such an important occasion. I’ll drive you there myself. We’ll pick Rita up first and be on our way before you have second thoughts.’
The convalescent home was situated at the edge of a pretty Hampshire village. The house itself was set in well-kept grounds surrounded by trees and manicured lawns. Jack and Rita had dropped Miranda at the gates, intending to find a pub where they could get some lunch, with a promise to return later. The delicate colours of early summer made everything seem vital and alive as she walked between the rows of late flowering cherry trees. Their petals fell like confetti on the gravel drive and the air was filled with birdsong.
Miranda had telephoned and made an appointment to see the matron, but she had asked her not to warn Gil of her coming in case he refused to see her. She rang the doorbell feeling as nervous as a child on her first day at school. She was excited at the thought of seeing Gil, but also scared. The suspense was physically painful.
The door was opened by a young girl wearing a white pinafore and cap. She smiled shyly. ‘Can I help you, miss?’
Miranda explained that she had arranged to see the matron and the maid scuttled off to find her, giving Miranda time to observe her surroundings. She had feared that the ambience might prove to be cold and clinical but she felt as though she had just entered someone’s much-loved home. The highly polished furniture was elegant but not too formal, and vases filled with white lilac and crimson tulips made bright statements of colour against the dark oak panelling. The appetising aroma of baking wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the heady scent from a bowl of pink hyacinths on the hall table.
The matron duly appeared and led her into a small office off the main hall. She motioned Miranda to take a seat. ‘I wanted to speak to you before I let you see him,’ she said, smiling. ‘Gilbert is one of my favourite clients. We don’t call them patients, and as you see we don’t wear uniform.’ She indicated her smart silk afternoon dress with a wave of her well-manicured hands. ‘We try to keep everything as informal as possible. I haven’t told him that you were coming, as you requested, but please be aware that he, like so many other brave young men, has come through an extremely traumatic experience. He is fully recovered physically, but he needs to regain confidence in himself. Handle him with kid gloves, Miss Beddoes.’
‘Of course. May I see him now?’
‘You’ll find him in the arbour at the end of the rose garden. It’s quite private there.’
Gil was seated, as the matron had said, on a rustic bench beneath an arch festooned with early roses. He was reading a book, but as Miranda trod the gravelled path he looked up, and his face lit with a smile that went straight to her heart. He stood up to greet her and she ran towards him. Forgetting all her good intentions she flung her arms around his neck. Their lips met in a tentative kiss and realising what she had done Miranda drew away. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.’
He took her hands in his. ‘Never say sorry to me, Miranda. I’ve been a stubborn fool, but I didn’t know how to make amends for my stupidity. I’ve been hoping that you’d come, but I was afraid to ask in case you’d changed your mind about us.’
She met his anxious gaze with a tremulous smile. ‘That was stupid, but I’v
e been just as bad. I’ve made a complete mess of things.’
He drew her slowly towards him. ‘I’ve been dreaming about this moment, my darling. But I never really believed that it would happen, and then just now when I saw you walking towards me I knew that everything was going to be all right.’
‘What changed your mind? It nearly broke my heart when you didn’t answer any of my letters. I just didn’t know what to do.’
‘I’m so sorry. I must have been crazy, and it was my mother of all people who put me straight. She came to see me last week and she told me about your visit to the auction rooms. She said she’d kept quiet about it until she was certain that I was really on the mend. I just wish I’d listened to you when you came to the hospital all those months ago, and I cringe when I remember what I said to you.’
She laid her finger on his lips, shaking her head. ‘Forget all that now. I’ve had to take a good look at myself since then too. I was a bit confused about everything, but I’m not now. I know what I want and it’s you. Say the word and I’ll never leave your side. I can look after you. I can get a job and support both of us.’
He silenced her with a kiss. When they finally drew apart he brushed a stray strand of hair back from her forehead, smiling tenderly. ‘I’m not crippled, Miranda. I couldn’t run a marathon and I’ll always have a bit of a limp, but I’ve been passed fit to leave this place whenever I like. Funnily enough I’m still technically in the RAF, but I don’t think I’ll ever fly again.’
‘When can you leave here?’
‘I could have left months ago, but I suppose I was afraid to face the world. It sounds a bit feeble, but they’ve been marvellous here.’
‘Could you come with us today? Jack and Rita brought me here in Chloe. It would be a bit cramped but you could come back to Highcliffe with me now. I want you to meet Granny and Grandpa, and Dickens the cat, and of course Annie, who’s the one who keeps everything going, and I’ll telephone Maman in London and get her to come down at the weekend …’
He stopped her talking with a kiss that went on for a very long time. ‘I can’t wait to meet your crazy family,’ he said, punctuating his words with kisses. ‘I want them to meet my family too.’
‘That’s not a problem. We can invite your mother and Fliss and her fiancé for Sunday lunch. Annie will grumble, of course, but she’ll love to show off what she can do with a few potatoes and a bit of scrag end.’
‘It sounds wonderful, but there’s something I need to know first.’
‘What?’
He was suddenly serious. ‘Do you think you could put up with a boring auctioneer with a gammy leg for the rest of your life?’
‘Is that a roundabout way of proposing to me?’
‘I love you, Miranda. I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, and if that’s corny I’m not going to apologise, because it’s true. I’ve been desperate to see you again and I know I’m rushing things and doing this really badly, but please say yes.’
She looked deeply into his eyes and she knew that this was where she had always wanted to be. She smiled as she traced the outline of his jaw with the tip of her finger. ‘Yes, a hundred times yes. I love you too, Mad Dog Maddern.’
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Published by Arrow Books 2012
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Copyright © Lily Baxter 2012
Lily Baxter has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is a work of fiction. Apart from references to actual historical figures and places, all other names and characters are a product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Arrow Books
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9780099562658