After retrieving her scarf from the back of her chair, she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. She studied her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She’d secured her hair back in a chignon and it had stayed tidy under her hat. She had the lipstick Abigail had given her in her handbag and considered whether to apply some. She decided not to. Her face was bright enough as it was and Neville might see the addition of cosmetics as an open invitation. One thing she was sure of, and she wanted it to happen, was that she would be kissed on the lips for the first time before this night was over.
If Joe had kissed her in the field she wouldn’t be here now. Up until now Rebecca had been a serious young woman, not given to flights of fancy or romantic thoughts apart from her infatuation with Joe. But she took her time now going over her feelings. Who would she rather be kissed by? Joe or Neville? A romance with Joe might have gone on to him offering her a steady life in the creek as his wife. Neville would probably offer her nothing more than a brief affair; he would certainly be looking upmarket for a wife. But it wasn’t as if she wanted to marry either of these men.
Come on, Rebecca, she told herself, picking up her handbag and squaring her shoulders. Go out and see what the night will bring.
Neville was waiting for her by the restaurant door. Out in the cool evening air, he reached inside his jacket and produced a long cigar. ‘Do you mind, Rebecca?’
‘Not in the least.’
He lit the cigar and tucked her arm inside his. ‘Shall we go for a stroll down by the river?’
‘Just for a few minutes then. I have to be in by ten-thirty or my uncle and aunt will start worrying about me.’
‘I take it they know who you are with tonight?’
‘Yes, of course. They were rather surprised.’
‘Did they try to talk you out of it?’
‘They weren’t keen about it but as I was supposed to be having a chaperone, they let me go. In the end they said they trusted me to be sensible, and besides, you have a reputation to keep in your position in the city.’
Neville laughed and squeezed her round the waist. ‘My God, surely they don’t want me to live up to the reputation I’ve got as a womaniser.’
‘Not that.’ She laughed too. ‘They meant your position on the rural council and as a solicitor. You admit it then? Being a womaniser?’
‘Why shouldn’t I? It’s what most men would kill for. But no one can prove a thing, you know. It’s all rumours, Rebecca, my dear. Could all be lies.’
She looked at him sideways. No one would believe that.
‘I bet your father doesn’t know you’re with me though, does he?’
‘No. He thinks I just fancied a night away from the estate.’
‘Trease hates me. Probably thinks you’re having a quiet evening in with your favourite uncle and aunt and will be tucked up in bed like a good little girl at ten o’clock with a cup of cocoa.’
Her father probably did think that but Rebecca didn’t feel guilty about it.
They retraced their steps to the Palace Cinema and crossed the road to stand on the Boscawen Bridge, looking down on the quiet water where the Rivers Allen and Kenwyn merged to form the Truro River.
Neville leant on the railings. He threw the cigar butt down where it joined forces with a scrap of curled-up cardboard. He watched the odd-looking boat he had made float away then he looked at Rebecca.
‘Your boss is a hard man to track down. Mr Drayton and I have been requesting a meeting with Major Fiennes for several days and he keeps putting us off. He may not have made up his mind about the estate yet but there are some decisions he must make soon.’
‘All of us are waiting for him to make up his mind about Trevallion but since we’ve got to know him we’ve learned to trust him.’
‘He must be causing quite a stir among the women on the estate.’
‘In what way?’
‘Well, he’s an attractive man. The ladies of the city are straining themselves trying to think of a way to lure him out of his shell and make social contact with him. A rich man like him would make a good catch.’
‘The Major’s more interested in a very old lady who lives in Falmouth,’ she said, to distract him from making observations about her own relationship with Alex.
‘Oh really?’ Neville arched his back and dropped his eyes back to the river. ‘And who is that?’
Rebecca knew she shouldn’t be talking about Alex’s business but she thought it possible Neville might know something about Susannah Bosanko. He must have gone through the estate’s papers closely over the years and might have seen something interesting. If he could ask her questions then she could do the same to him.
‘Her name’s Miss Bosanko. She was the aunt of Miss Harriet who was the fiancée of Captain Miles.’
Neville’s face was grim. Fiennes must have come across Susannah Bosanko’s name in connection with her late niece. Why was he bothering with the hideous old wretch? Nobody took a step near her if they could avoid it. If the Bosanko woman got him to agree to sell Trevallion to her, it would deny Neville the handsome commission he’d been promised. He would have to step up his attempts to talk to the Major alone.
Wondering why Neville had gone quiet, Rebecca took a step closer to him. ‘Know something about her, do you?’
‘No.’ Neville looked up and ran the back of a finger gently up her arm. ‘I’ve heard Fiennes rather likes you.’
‘Have you now?’ she said tartly, cross that he had clammed up about Miss Bosanko and that he knew about her friendship with Alex.
‘Is it true?’
‘We get along well, yes. Is that why you asked me out? To try to find out something about the Major?’
‘Hell, no,’ Neville said huskily, standing up straight. ‘I’ve wanted to take you out for ages. I think you are so very, very beautiful, Rebecca, and I don’t think you realise it one bit.’
‘I haven’t exactly got men falling at my feet.’
‘That’s because they haven’t got the gumption or imagination to see past your rather gloomy exterior. Well, I have and I find you absolutely fascinating.’
A lump rose in Rebecca’s throat. This was the first time she had received a lover’s flattery. Said in Neville Faull’s own inimitable way, it was dizzying. More dangerously, he sounded sincere. She looked up into his eyes.
He said softly, ‘I’d like to kiss you, Rebecca.’
Time stood still for a moment. Then she closed her eyes as he took her into his arms. Thinking it was probably her first kiss, Neville was tender and understanding. Rebecca responded with a passion that amazed her. It felt wonderful, being in this man’s arms, feeling his strong body against hers, the sensation of his warm lips pressing down and moving over hers. He was awakening new and exciting instincts in her. It was almost like being attacked by a million delicious little pains, a heady exhilaration that she had never imagined existed.
Neville took his mouth away and pulling off her hat he buried his face in her glorious hair. ‘Oh, I could drink you in, Rebecca,’ he moaned. ‘Every tiny bit of you.’
She laid the side of her face against his chest, wanting to stay in his strong masculine warmth.
He lifted her chin and kissed her again, steadily increasing his depth and passion. Rebecca returned his embrace with equal fervour and was shocked by the sensuality of the thoughts skimming through her head. With a ladylike restraint, she pulled herself away from him.
Fighting to regain her breath she said, ‘We’d better go.’
Neville seemed to devour her in one lingering look, then putting his arm around her shoulders he held her close beside him as they began the walk back to St Austell Street. The streets were quiet under the still night air, the yellow glow of light around the gaslamps making the atmosphere cosy and friendly.
‘We’ll have electric lighting in Truro next year,’ Neville said.
‘Really? That will be much more convenient.’ Rebecca smiled to herself She’d expected him to carr
y on with his lovemaking, and she was amazed that she could chat like this, so soon after being kissed for the very first time so wonderfully.
‘Much more convenient and cleaner and it’s about time too. Even many small villages have electricity laid on.’
They talked in this way until they were standing outside Uncle Bert’s front door.
‘No lights are on,’ Neville remarked.
‘Shush, they must be in bed.’
He smiled and shook his head.
Rebecca was puzzled. ‘What?’
He gave another of his mysterious smiles. ‘Oh, my beautiful Rebecca.’
She had been trailing her hat from her fingertips. Neville took it from her and put it on the garden wall, quickly followed by her handbag. He put a hand on each side of her face and leaned forward to kiss her. Rebecca turned away. She shouldn’t be doing this on her uncle’s doorstep. What would the neighbours think if they saw her? And it wasn’t as if she was out with just any young man.
‘There’s no one about,’ Neville whispered, bringing his head down towards hers.
Rebecca didn’t have time to protest before his lips were on hers. She allowed him to pull her in close and she put her arms round his neck. His kiss was long and ardent and conjured up those forbidden feelings in her again. It seemed it would go on all night and finally she broke free.
‘We can’t stay here like this,’ she said breathlessly.
‘Let’s go inside then.’
She looked around wildly for a moment. ‘My uncle and aunt—’
‘Are away visiting their son Raymon who now lives in Plymouth and is recovering from having his appendix removed. There’s no one in the house. It’s quite empty. You’ve got the key, Rebecca.’ Neville took her in his arms again. ‘Well, my darling, are you going to invite me in?’
Chapter 23
Tamsyn and Stephen were playing down in the creek. They had spent the early part of the morning shrimping on the low spring tide and taken their plentiful catch to Ira Jenkins to be boiled for their tea. Now they were in Tamsyn’s hideout, dressed in the pirate outfits Loveday had made for them. Tamsyn was wearing a black and white striped top, red leggings and a red spotted scarf around her head. Stephen was in a ruffled shirt, gold waistcoat, big shiny belt, black leggings and high boots. Tamsyn had a black moustache painted over her top lip and Stephen was wearing a long crinkly red wig and a sweeping black hat with an ostrich feather filched from his mother’s wardrobe.
‘Why can’t I be Captain Redbeard for once?’ Tamsyn demanded, folding her arms crossly and pushing out her bottom lip. ‘I don’t want to be first mate or a prisoner all the time.’
‘I’ve told you a hundred times! Don’t you ever listen to me, you stupid girl? You can’t be the captain because I’m bigger and older than you and because you’re a girl.’ Stephen whacked his toy wooden sword against the wobbly old stool that served as a table.
‘It’s not fair. And don’t do that again or I won’t let you play in my hideout ever again.’
‘Huh! All this is on my uncle’s property so it’s mine more than yours. I wish this creek had boys of my own age then I wouldn’t have to play with you.’
‘You said we were blood brothers. I even cut my thumb like you did to prove it.’ Tamsyn held up the thumb still with a tiny scratch on it then she looked down and picked at a scab on her knee.
Making Tamsyn his ‘blood brother’ was something Stephen had instantly regretted. She might be a tomboy but she was still a girl. Calling her Tam and blacking her face with creek mud didn’t make her a boy. The chaps at school would think him a complete ass if they ever found out. They’d think he was an ass anyway for playing such childish games, but he had never had the opportunity to play like this before and with only a little girl as witness, and with his mother and uncle taking no notice of him, glad he was out of their way, he was enjoying it.
He smacked her hand. ‘Stop doing that, Tam. You’ll make it go bad and it’s a beastly thing to do anyway.’
‘Grumbleguts,’ the little fair-haired girl murmured. Despite himself Stephen couldn’t help smiling. He did it every time she called him that. Wherever did Tam pick up such a word? Her mother would have kittens if she heard her say it. He took a cigarette, lifted from his mother’s gold case, out of his waistcoat pocket.
‘Now, One-Eyed Pete, where did you leave your eyepatch?’ he said patiently. ‘You must have some idea. Think hard. Where did you have it last?’
‘I didn’t have it when Joe took us out on the boat last.’
‘You’ve already said that, dead-brain.’
Tamsyn poked her tongue out at him at his use of his favourite nickname for her. When she saw the cigarette, she gasped indignantly. ‘You’re not lighting that thing in here! You might burn my hideout down.’
‘Never mind that, I’ll smoke it outside.’
‘You’ll get into trouble if one of the grown-ups sees you. And anyway, it’s bad for you. Uncle Joe says so. He says he wishes he’d never started to smoke.’
‘I’ve been smoking for ages and it’s done me no harm,’ Stephen said defensively. ‘All the chaps at school do it. Don’t go on about it, I’ll make sure no one sees me. Now what about your eyepatch? I bought it specially for you, Tam.’
‘Could be anywhere. We last played pirates up by the stables. When we were stealing Jumping Jake’s smuggling booty out of his hiding place.’
‘Well, let’s go and take a quick look there. If we can’t find it, we’ll think of another game. Think yourself lucky, Tam. I’ve got to get myself all washed and dressed up by two o’clock. Uncle Alex has invited some decrepit old woman to the big house now it’s all been done up and he’s insisting I be there too. Can’t think why. What have I got to say to the old bat? I’d rather go rowing with Joe again. He says I’m a natural.’
Tamsyn sympathised with him as they walked to the stables. ‘Glad I’m not rich and a somebody. I’d hate to have to take tea with a strange old lady I’ve never met before. Do you think it’s really true that she’s half lizard?’
Stephen exhaled smoke from the stolen cigarette. ‘I only said Uncle Alex told Mother her eyes are like a lizard’s. Don’t let them hear you saying it or you’ll get me into trouble. Uncle Alex has visited the old crow three times and wouldn’t let me go with him once. He said he wants me to meet her here. Uncle Alex can be a real pain at times.’
‘But he always brings Captain Action comics and buttercream toffees and something for the model railway back with him for you. And he did take us to Perranporth that time. I’d never been to that sort of beach with golden sand before. I think the Major’s a nice man. He always pats me on the head and asks how I am.’
‘That’s because he thinks you’re a scruffy little dog.’ Stephen ruffled her hair and they fought playfully as they went along.
‘I wish I had an uncle like the Major. I have Uncle Joe although he’s not my real uncle. I know he’s taken us rowing twice but he’s always busy these days, wanting to go off somewhere alone.’
Stephen gave a superior huff. ‘That’s probably because he’s got a woman somewhere. A bint. The sort he doesn’t want decent people to see him with.’
From the expression on Tamsyn’s face he could see he was about to be hit with a barrage of questions he wouldn’t like to answer. ‘Look for your eyepatch,’ he said gruffly. ‘You might have dropped it along the path somewhere. I’m going to be on my best behaviour this afternoon for Uncle Alex’s old bat and then I’m going to ask him to take us to Perranporth again.’
‘Well, it will have to be at the weekend because I’ve got to go to school next week.’
‘I wish I knew where I was going to school next term. Mother’s talked Uncle Alex into providing me with a tutor until he’s decided on the estate’s future.’
Tamsyn slipped her hand into Stephen’s and he let it stay there for a few moments. ‘You don’t want to go back to Berkshire, do you?’
Stephen looked back at the
creek behind them. ‘No, of course not.’
Their route took them past the big house. Percy Gummoe and the gardeners were bustling about putting finishing touches here and there for Susannah Bosanko’s visit. Alex waved to the children from a window and tapped his wristwatch to indicate to Stephen that he must watch the time.
‘I’ll be late if I want to,’ the boy muttered defiantly.
As they passed the back of the house, Loveday came running out of the kitchen. ‘Where are you two off to?’
‘Only to the stables, Mum,’ Tamsyn said, edging away with Stephen, hoping her mother had no other plans for her.
‘You come back to me for your dinner, Tamsyn, and then you’re to spend the afternoon with Ira Jenkins. And Tamsyn, you must behave yourself this afternoon. The Major has a very important guest coming here and he will be very cross if anything happens to spoil it.’
‘I’ll be good, Mum,’ Tamsyn promised.
‘I’d hate to have a mother like that,’ Stephen said darkly when they were out of earshot. But he went quiet for a while. In fact it would be really nice to have a mother who took a proper interest in him. All his mother seemed to want to do these days was to slip away on her own. When they’d arrived here she’d wanted Rebecca near her all the time. Now she seemed to have lost interest in her too.
* * *
When they reached the stable yard they separated to look for the eyepatch. Tamsyn didn’t understand why it was so important to find it but pirates was Stephen’s favourite game and he liked it to be authentic. Tamsyn had refused to be a one-legged pirate but she could hardly be One-Eyed Pete without her eyepatch. As soon as the game began he would put on his red beard – a piece of cardboard with long lengths of red wool glued all over it, attached to his head by a length of elastic – and give the most bloodcurdling cries.
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