‘That’s Angie, surely?’ he remarked after a while, and she nodded mutely, conscious of Christine’s sidelong glance and unable to trust her voice while the sweet melody of the main theme haunted the air. With every nerve she was aware of Nicholas’s nearness, of him looking down at her and his arm brushing her shoulder. A tremor ran through her, and he stood up abruptly and moved away.
She was thankful when the record finished and conversation was resumed. Quietly she placed the sleepily protesting Ming in his basket and went unobtrusively from the room.
The idea of trying to repair the glass swan had occurred to her several times during the day. Now, as she entered the small workroom adjoining Nicholas’s study and took the envelope from the drawer, she realized the futility of her hopes.
The base had escaped reasonably lightly, but the slender neck lay in jagged pieces and the delicately spun fronds of the feathers crumbled like fragments of icing sugar in her fingers. It was hopeless. Sadly she gathered up the bits and put them back in the envelope, and cleared away the china cement, brushes, and tweezers she had so optimistically hunted out.
As she switched off the table lamp the sound of the outer door opening made her catch her breath and stand still. Was it Nicholas? Then she heard the voices and began to tremble, suddenly realizing her predicament; for there was no way put of the workroom, save through Nicholas’s study. ‘I must talk to you—I may not have another chance before tomorrow.’
Christine’s voice sounded urgent, and for a moment Tessa’s hopes rose. Was she going to tell Nicholas the truth about the breakage?
But thoughts of the breakage were obviously far from Christine’s mind. The soft voice hurried on: ‘We can’t go on like this ... Try to understand ...’ There was an inaudible response from Nicholas, then, ‘It’s never too late to correct past mistakes ... Forgive me, darling ...’
Tessa looked blindly about her, then put her hands over her ears to blot out that silence. As vividly as though she were present she could see Christine, her body a lovely flaunting invitation, and Nicholas ...
It seemed an eternity before she lowered her trembling hands. She did not know how long she stood there, frozen, until she noticed the shaft of fight was no longer spilling through the partly open door. Slowly she groped her way through the dark study and walked upstairs.
CHAPTER VIII
The guests departed, Nicholas drove Tessa and Florence to the ,hospital, where Florence was to have her knee X-rayed. While she waited at the enquiry desk, Nicholas drew Tessa aside.
‘The weekend has proved more successful than I ... hoped,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Thank you for all your hard work—I’m grateful.’ He hesitated, glancing towards the car. ‘You’ll wait for her? And see to a taxi?’
‘Yes, of course.’
She watched the car turn out of the hospital gates before she went to the waiting room and the array of dilapidated, out-of-date magazines. The clock hands dragged round until a trim little nurse entered and glanced enquiringly at Tessa.
‘You’re with Mrs. Reyne?’
Tessa stood up.
‘She won’t be long now. You can ring for her taxi —there’s a phone booth down the main corridor,’ the little nurse volunteered.
The taxi arrived promptly, and Florence was helped in.
‘All right?’ Tessa said anxiously, noticing how stiffly she moved.
‘Yes, dear, I’m fine. I won’t get the results, until Friday, but they don’t think I broke anything.’ She smiled. ‘They’ve certainly strapped it up for me, but it feels much better for the support.’
Back at Meads, she stumped into the kitchen and put the kettle on, remarking, ‘I’m fine on the flat— just like a racehorse—but oh, the stairs! Never mind, let’s have a cup of tea. It’s grand to have the place to ourselves again.’
The tea was hot and refreshing after the urn product they’d had at the hospital. Tessa felt some of her tension relaxing as she listened to the soft stir of the breeze in the trees and idly watched the little flurries of leaves spiralling down on to the path under the window.
Florence poured herself a second cup. ‘Now, Tessa, I want you to have an early lunch and a break this afternoon. Get some fresh air or pop down to see Mary. You’ve been cooped up here for a week. No,’ she raised an admonishing hand, ‘I’m going to put a bomb under that Maggie today, and I don’t want to see you back till tonight.’
Before her determination Tessa gave in. ‘I would like to see Mary, she’ll be moving soon. Sure you’ll manage?’
‘Sure,’ Florence assured her. ‘You go and enjoy yourself while the weather still holds.’
The leaves crackled pleasantly underfoot when Tessa walked to the cottage. There was a hint of autumn crispness in the breeze ruffling the surface of the pool. Tessa smiled, remembering when Susan had distinguished herself earlier in the summer.
Baby Timothy was asleep in his pram on the flagged path. She peeped at him, and adjusted the blanket he had kicked free before she knocked. Mary came to the door, smiling a surprised welcome, and a warm smell of baking scones drifted from the girdle on the old-fashioned range.
Tessa moved a yellow, toy duck from a chair and sat down, suddenly realizing how much she was going to miss Mary’s homely little family. There was something so blessedly normal and reassuring about the friendly little house; the small, neatly ironed garments airing on the pulley high above the range, the three china piggy banks and Jim’s pools coupons tucked behind them on the mantelpiece, and Mary herself, her cheeks rosy, deftly turning the scones. Tessa was not foolish enough to imagine that hard work and worry were absent from Mary’s life, but after the emotional undercurrents at Meads during the past week and the events of the weekend the cottage felt like a haven of peace where she could relax without wondering if a word or glance might be misconstrued.
Timothy, however, shattered the haven of peace at that moment, and Tessa smiled wryly at Mary’s muttered curse as she hurried outside.
‘Yes, we’re moving on Saturday,’ Mary said when Timothy, gurgling happily now that he was the centre of attraction, bounced on her knee. ‘As things turned out we could have stayed here,’ Mary continued. ‘Mr. Fairgreaves offered Jim his job back—did you know that Mr. Maythorne had spoken to him about Jim? But Jim wouldn’t take it—said he’d leave things as they were now. I was furious. I love this little place. It was our first home and we’ve been happy here. However...’ She sighed, and stared into the fire.
‘I told Nicholas about Jim,’ Tessa said slowly, after the night I—’ She hesitated, not wanting to explain the circumstances that had led to Nicholas’s intervention. ‘It’s a pity it’s ended like this. I’m going to miss you and the children.’
‘You’ll have to visit us.’ Mary transferred Timothy to Tessa’s lap and began to set the table for tea. ‘You know you’ll always be welcome. And if there’s anything we can ever do to help you, don’t hesitate to ask. We’d have been in a fine pickle if you hadn’t got Mr. Gerard to fix us up. He seems a nice young man,’ Mary prattled on from the small adjoining kitchen. ‘Strange how first impressions can be misleading. He seems very fond of you, Tessa.’ She paused, and added uncertainly, ‘I don’t want to pry, but you don’t look awfully happy today. It isn’t Dennis—things haven’t—?’
Tessa shook her head. ‘It isn’t Dennis—it isn’t anyone.’ She changed the subject and Mary did not question her further.
Jackie and Susan arrived home from school and flung themselves on her. She listened to their excited, incoherent accounts of their day, and admired the paintings they proudly exhibited.
During the next few days Tessa spent a good deal of her time at the cottage, helping Mary to sew new curtains and pack everything except the minimum of day-to-day necessities. On the eve of removal day Tessa had an inspiration.
‘Suppose I take Jackie and Susan out for the day tomorrow, giving you a clear field? I promise to take great care of them,’ she added, seeing Mary’s doubtful e
xpression.
‘My dear, I’m not worried about that. It would be heaven not to have them under our feet—they’re such a handful. But could you cope? It’s very tempting.’
‘I’ll do my best—is it settled?’ At Mary’s grateful nod she said, ‘I’ll pick them up at nine—soon enough?’
She came down to breakfast next morning to find a letter and a small packet awaiting her.
Curiosity made her open the packet first, and Nicholas glanced up from his own mail at her involuntary cry of delight. The dainty pendant she was holding sparkled in the light as it swung from its silver chain.
‘It’s from Mrs. Gleadon.’ Her eyes shone as she leaned across the table to show Nicholas the unexpected gift. There was a charming note attached, thanking her for helping to make their visit a happy one.
A shadow crossed her face; she could not help remembering Helen’s silver swan, and Nicholas frowned. He seemed about to speak, then she bent her head over the other letter.
‘It’s from Jane,’ she volunteered, looking up to find him still regarding her thoughtfully.
‘Oh, yes.’ He helped himself to coffee. ‘Your friend in Yorkshire.’
‘She wants me to stay with her for a week or two before the weather becomes too cold.’ Tessa was unconscious of the eagerness in her voice.
‘Yes, I expect you’ve had enough of Meads by now,’ he said, the words coming out more curtly than he’d intended, and her face flamed.
‘Of course not, Nicholas. Isn’t it natural that I should want to see Jane again before our paths divide and we grow apart? We did spend five years together—it’s a long time to be in constant contact with someone, and then suddenly the ties are broken.’ She hesitated, wanting him to understand her desire to meet Jane again, yet longing to eradicate the mistaken impression he appeared to have gained of her being weary of Meads. ‘School is so much a communal life, in every sense of the word,’ she said carefully. ‘But if you fail to make a close friend you couldn’t be more alone in a—a cell.’
‘I’m sorry, Tessa,’ he said gravely. ‘I hadn’t considered it from that angle. Of course you must visit your friend.’ He smiled unexpectedly, and Tessa forgave him instantly. ‘A spell with young company will be good for you.’ Idly he picked up the pendant and examined it. ‘Isn’t it today that the Thomas family are leaving?’
She was used to his changes in mood.
‘Yes. I’m looking after Jackie and Susan for the day—until the upheaval is over.’ She glanced out of the window at the heavy clouds drifting over the sun.
‘I hope it doesn’t rain.’
‘What have you planned?’
‘A morning in Woolworth’s, lunch somewhere, and a picnic this afternoon—if it doesn’t rain. I expect it’ll have to be the cinema.’
Nicholas lit a cigarette and leaned back. ‘I’ve a better idea. If you approve, I suggest taking you all over to Whipsnade. Should it pour, we have the car, and we can always come back here and devise some kind of amusement. Otherwise,’ he shrugged, ‘you’ll have your hands full with two small children in a downpour.’
Impulsively she rushed behind his chair and hugged him.
‘I do approve—it’s a wonderful idea. I was secretly afraid I wouldn’t be able to cope, but I did want to help Mary.’
To her surprise, he put his hand over hers where it lay on his shoulder. ‘Try not to change as you grow up, Tessa. I find it refreshing to find someone who has time to consider the problems of others.’
‘You must be changing yourself, Nicholas.’ She could not resist the desire to tease. ‘It isn’t so long since you were of the opinion that the Thomas family should get out of their own muddle.’
He stood up, admitting solemnly, ‘I stand corrected. Now,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘I’d better nip down to the garage and get some petrol.’
The dark skies had ceased to be foreboding. The prospect of the day sent Tessa’s spirits soaring as she went to ‘pack the picnic basket. About to depart, Nicholas, with a brief gesture to her to wait, turned back to the dining room.
‘You’d better wear this today for luck.’ He held out the pendant. ‘Here, I’ll fasten it for you.’
She stood still while he did so, then, obeying his gentle push, walked rather bemusedly to the car.
The children were waiting eagerly, noses pressed against the window pane, when the car stopped at the gate. Their eyes widened as they realized it was for their benefit. Fidgeting, they listened to Mary’s instructions to sit still and not touch the door handles.
‘The locks are supposed to be childproof,’ Nicholas smiled, ‘and they won’t need those.’ He pointed to the neat little packets of sandwiches clutched in just-washed hands.
Jackie and Susan behaved perfectly. The threatened rain did not materialize after all, and in the afternoon the sun burst forth, causing a hurried removal of cardigans and jackets. Exhausted after the excitement of the zoo, Tessa was glad to return to the car and relax while Nicholas drove in search of a suitable picnic spot.
‘It’s a miracle,’ he commented dryly when she began to unpack the hamper. ‘No crying matches, neither of them sick—and best of all—neither of them got lost!’
‘Don’t speak too soon,’ she warned. ‘The day isn’t over yet.’
‘Um!’ He raised his brows with a comical lilt of mock alarm.
Tessa poured milk for the children and tea for Nicholas and herself. She called them.
They pounded across the grass. ‘Susan’s a lion and I’m hunting her,’ Jackie announced with a swagger.
‘Even big-game hunters have to eat,’ said Tessa, handing out sandwiches. There was silence while they munched, then a cry came from Susan as Jackie, rolling exuberantly on the grass, sent her beaker of milk flying.
‘Never mind—there’s lots more milk.’ Tessa knelt beside the little girl and mopped the liquid from her arms and dress. As she scrambled to her feet Tessa felt a sharp stinging pain in her knee. She rubbed it as she dropped back on the rug beside Nicholas.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked sharply, seeing her wince.
‘Something stung me, just now—it’ll go off in a minute, I expect.’ She picked up her half-eaten sandwich and nibbled at it.
‘Let me see.’ Nicholas leaned, over and twitched her dress aside. ‘It’s bleeding, child. You’ve cut it.’ He looked in the grass where she had knelt beside Susan, and pulled out a jagged piece of glass.
‘Litter hounds!’ he muttered furiously, turning to Tessa who was trying to staunch the bleeding with her handkerchief. ‘Take off your stocking—I’ll get the first-aid box out of the car.’
Two pairs of wide eyes watched apprehensively while he cleansed the cut and applied antiseptic and an adhesive dressing.
‘Did he hurt?’ Susan had crept to Tessa’s side, a frightened expression on her small features.
‘Did I?’
Tessa encountered steady grey eyes with a light of amusement in their depths and met their gaze with some difficulty. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you, Nicholas.’
‘You’d better remove the other stocking—or put the torn one on again—unless you’re going home piebald.’ He stood up abruptly and went to replace the first-aid box.
Susan’s head was drooping when the time came to start the homeward journey. Tessa rode in the back seat with the sleepy child curled against her while Jackie sat enthralled in the coveted passenger seat beside the driver. Mary and Jim, having established reasonable order, were relaxing over a cup of tea when the children tumbled out of the car and scampered into their new home.
‘We’re almost straight,’ Jim said as Mary hurried ‘to get more cups. ‘We’d never have got through so well if we’d had the pair of them underfoot all day.’ He hoisted Jackie up on his shoulder. ‘I bet you’ve had a right royal day.’
‘And I hope you’ve been good,’ Mary put in sternly. ‘I think we’ll forget about baths tonight—straight into bed.’
‘They should
sleep without rocking,’ Tessa laughed, accepting the cup of tea Mary handed her.
Goodnight kisses and reminiscences were exchanged with the children, and at last Tessa and Nicholas were allowed to depart with Mary’s thanks warm in their wake.
‘Tired, Tessa?’ Nicholas asked when they were alone in the car.
‘Just a bit, but I’ve enjoyed today as much as the children have.’
‘I suspected that.’ He accelerated and settled back as the car gathered speed through the encroaching dusk. Lulled by the motion and the darkness, Tessa’s eyelids drooped, much as Susan’s had done, despite her efforts to remain awake. A soft brushing movement against her hair aroused her and she opened her eyes.
‘Wake up.’ Nicholas’s voice sounded sharp, and she realized that the warm, rough material against her face was his jacket sleeve. She sat up straight, smoothing a wisp from her brow. Had she imagined, his lips on her hair for one brief moment? Or had it been a wishful dream?
His expression was unresponsive, and hastily she groped for her handbag and stumbled from the car. The sudden rush of cool air dispersed the lingering warmth of the drive, and she shivered, suddenly feeling her knee begin to throb as she hurried into the house.
Mirth overcame her when she told Florence of her mishap. ‘That’s two of us now.’ She recalled a nonsense jingle and began limping round the hall, chanting, ‘Centipede with a wooden leg. Ninety-nine bonk! Ninety—’She tailed off, her laughter subsiding at the sight of Nicholas’s expression.
‘Go to the bathroom and wash that cut properly,’ he ordered, ‘and put a fresh dressing on it.’
She stared at him, surprised by the sudden curtness of his tone.
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