‘They that just passed you!’ Mrs Kellow raised her voice at Rebecca’s back and she dutifully turned round. ‘Loveday Wright and that Mr Drayton solicitor bloke. If you’d been here five minutes ago you would have had the surprise of your life, maid. Some friendly they were, weren’t they, Myrtle?’ Myrtle nodded enthusiastically and Mrs Kellow prattled on. ‘I reckon something could be going on there. I heard she went to his mother’s funeral.’
‘Mrs Kellow,’ Rebecca said airily, ‘are you seriously telling me that Loveday is having a romance? Loveday?’
‘Yes, I am, maid. And it’s about time you were romantically attached too.’ Mrs Kellow couldn’t resist giving a little dig but she wasn’t prepared for Rebecca’s reaction.
‘What makes you think I’m not, Mrs Kellow?’ Rebecca plonked a few pennies on the table for Jossy’s tea and flounced away, leaving Mrs Kellow gaping.
Rebecca rushed the tea to Trease who took it to Jossy. She watched the bustle on the water and wondered if Neville would turn up. It was unlikely that he would have come by boat. A familiar waft of cigar smoke reached her nose and she smiled.
‘Are you enjoying the races, Miss Allen?’
‘Yes, thank you, Mr Faull.’ He was behind her but she did not turn round.
Neville dropped his voice. ‘I want to see you alone.’
‘I think I’ll take a walk along to the castle.’
‘I’ll follow you in a few moments.’
Rebecca walked on a little way past the castle to a quiet spot where there were few spectators watching the water sports, making sure there was no one about she knew. From here she looked across Falmouth Bay to Pendennis Castle. A keen wind chilled her bare arms but this was warded off a few moments later by Neville.
Before she could speak he kissed her fully on the lips so passionately it took her breath away.
‘Neville!’ she gasped, struggling out of his grasp and looking around hastily to see if anyone was watching them. ‘What a way to greet a girl.’
‘Well, I’ve missed you, sweetheart.’ He smiled confidently. ‘There’s too many people about here, let’s walk on.’
They took a path that led away from the town of St Mawes in the direction of St Just until they found a deserted spot. Neville took off his blazer, put it down on a grassy slope and they sat down side by side. He put his arm round her and she rested her head on his chest.
‘Lovely scenery here but not as lovely as you are, Rebecca,’ Neville said and sought another kiss. Rebecca obliged him. He caressed her hair. ‘You like being with me, don’t you?’
‘Mmmm,’ she murmured into his shirt. She did like the feel of his arms about her, the strength of his body as she leaned against it, the fresh smell of him. She liked to be kissed by him. She planted a small kiss on the back of his hand and he lifted her hair from her neck and kissed her there, making her shiver with pleasure.
‘When is your next full evening off? Aunt Mildred has suggested dinner next Thursday or Friday evening.’
‘I can make it on Thursday. I’ll write to Uncle Bert to ask him if I can sleep over.’
‘Back, is he? And your aunt?’
‘Yes, Neville.’
‘That’s a pity.’
Rebecca ran a fingertip over the back of his hand where she had kissed it. She knew it wasn’t sensible to tease this man but Neville made her feel young and light-hearted. She looked up at him and asked softly, ‘Why is it a pity?’
He smiled and raised an eyebrow. ‘Because Uncle Bert will want you in by ten-thirty and I would like to keep you out much later. Will you tell him where you are going?’
‘He knew the last time,’ Rebecca said defensively.
‘All the way from Plymouth? You didn’t tell him, Rebecca. You knew he’d tell your father and there would be trouble. I think you’re going to suggest that we meet somewhere rather than have me collect you from your uncle’s house.’
‘At the front of the cathedral,’ Rebecca admitted. ‘I was planning to tell Uncle Bert that I’ll get a taxi to a friend’s house for a musical evening.’
‘Well, I can promise you the music.’
They gazed at each other in silence for several moments, Neville stroking her hair and shoulders. Then he kissed her longingly and Rebecca responded in the same way. Afterwards he held her tightly, murmuring into her neck and running his lips along her neck and behind her ears.
‘We’ll have to go back to the others in a minute before I’m missed,’ she sighed.
‘In a little while,’ Neville said huskily and kissed her again.
* * *
Alex took off his hat, raised himself on the deck of the Lady Harriet and looked about for Rebecca. The boat’s class had been called and he wanted to wave to her for good luck.
Jossy tapped on his arm. ‘We’re off to the starting line, Major.’
‘Oh, right then,’ he replied, disappointed at not being able to find Rebecca. ‘Let’s do our best for Kennick Creek.’
Six boats lined up with the Lady Harriet, two quay punts, three oysterdredgers and the Emmeline, all with different shaped hulls. The wind was light and Jossy had tied a few lengths of wool to the shrouds to see which direction the wind was coming from. He told his crew they would have to keep the sails flatter so as not to disturb the wind over the leeward sail area. Most of the crews numbered seven men, the usual for a scratch race. Two men worked the jib, two on the staysail, one on the mainsheet, one working the backstays and the last man on the helm.
Alex’s crew included Victor, Donald and Royston Jenkins, fresh from victory in their oysterdredger, Joe, Trease and Percy Gummoe. They were all tense as they waited for the starter flag to drop and Alex could hardly contain his excitement. When the flag was dropped he surged forward slightly before the Lady Harriet did and nearly toppled over. Jossy, behind him at the helm, grabbed his shoulder and Alex looked at the old Kennicker in apology but Jossy’s eyes seemed to be riveted on sails, spars, water and the winning line all at the same time.
The Lady Harriet cut through the water, the other six craft with her, none stalling. It was a magnificent sight to see the mass of canvas, fifty feet high and spanning forty-five across boom and spinnaker pole on each boat, surge forward as one.
They had not gone far when one of the quay punts, whose captain had not checked the wind as Jossy had, dropped back and Alex was pleased that at least his boat would not be last. He felt a strong surge of competitiveness but allowed Jossy to shout the orders. It had been years since he had done any serious sailing and the boats he was used to were nothing like these strong Cornish vessels. His few weeks of experience could not match Jossy’s years. The old man knew the Lady Harriet’s every creak and flurry and instinctively ordered the sails to be trimmed when needed.
As the pace increased the Trevallion boat took third place to the Emmeline and an oysterdredger. The rival boats were about half a length ahead on either side of the Lady Harriet. Pat Vincent turned round from the helm of the Emmeline and shouted to Alex, ‘You’ve got no chance, Major!’
The Lady Harriet was gaining steadily on the oysterdredger and Alex began to hold his breath. When his boat overtook it, he yelled in delight.
‘Keep her steady, boys, and we’ll catch that bugger up front,’ Jossy shouted above the fluttering sails. ‘We’re coming after you, Pat!’
Pat Vincent turned his great head and waved in defiance. He was a highly skilled helmsman, able to get his fishing boat out of any dangerous situation on the high seas. He would not be easily beaten.
The Emmeline was keeping a steady speed of nine knots and the Lady Harriet did her best to catch her. With the finishing line coming up fast, Alex broke out in a sweat. ‘What can we do to catch her, Jossy?’
‘Not a lot more, Major,’ Jossy said resignedly. ‘Our girl’s doing her best and Captain Miles would be proud of her.’
Alex was disappointed but only for a moment. They had done well to come runner-up against a captain who spent more hours sail
ing in one season than the average yachtsman did in several years. At a slight turn of his head he saw the remaining five boats had dropped further back and he felt proud of the Lady Harriet and her crew. He was aware of the cheers of the crowds as the Emmeline creamed over the finishing line and knew there would be congratulations too for the return of Trevallion’s grand old lady. He couldn’t wait to see Rebecca’s face.
She was nowhere about when they sailed in close to the sea wall to receive a rapturous reception from the party of Kennickers gathered there. Tamsyn was also absent and Alex assumed Rebecca had gone looking for the errant little girl. When she appeared half an hour later with Tamsyn, no one was any the wiser.
The gig races were starting and Alex got into Trevallion’s racing gig and took up oars with Joe, Trease, Percy Gummoe, Frank and Leslie Kellow, Donald and Victor Jenkins, and Jossy as cox. Alex saw the wind buffet a girl’s long black hair but he had no time to wave to Rebecca because Jossy had called ‘Off’ and they were on their way to the starting line. The Kennickers had no problems with this race, and thanks mainly to Joe’s massive shoulders they saw off the opposition by two full lengths.
On shore Alex proudly accepted the cup and turned at once to shake the crew of both Trevallion boats who had gathered behind him. ‘This is all thanks to you. This is a proud day for the estate.’
‘Thank you, sir. You pulled a surprise or two on us,’ Joe answered for them all. ‘With a bit of practice, perhaps next year we’ll do it again.’
‘Who knows, Joe? Are you coming to the pub after the fireworks with the rest of us? I’m buying everyone a round of drinks.’
Joe glanced towards Abigail, who had come ashore. ‘Probably not, sir. I want to spend a bit of time with the horses tonight. I haven’t seen much of them today.’
‘Anyone would think they were your children, Joe,’ Alex grinned.
Stephen went up to Joe and proudly shook his hand. ‘I shall row like you one day, Joe.’ Joe ruffled his hair.
Alex turned to Abigail. ‘Have you enjoyed yourself?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘It was absolutely thrilling. It would be good to be here again next year, Alex,’ she added hopefully. But the response she got was curt.
‘Where’s Rebecca? She seems to have disappeared again.’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a while.’ When Alex frowned she said, ‘Slipped away for a cup of tea, I expect. Ah, here she comes now.’
Alex watched Rebecca walking towards the group of Kennickers. She couldn’t look Joe in the eye after what her father had told her and went straight up to Trease and congratulated him. Then she turned to Alex.
He was so excited he kissed her on both cheeks, which provoked a cheer from the others. ‘Would you like to hold the cup?’ he asked.
She took it from him and held it up high. ‘Keep it there,’ Alex said, running to Mrs Kellow and taking the camera he had asked her to look after. He took several photographs as the cup was passed from hand to hand. For the first time in years he felt happy and clear-minded.
When he got the cup back, he read the name of the donor. His heart gave a little start. ‘Kindly donated by Miss Susannah Bosanko,’ it stated. He pointed it out to Rebecca. She looked at him wide-eyed and as if on cue the old lady stood before them.
‘Well done, Alexander, you and your crews put up a splendid show. I’m so pleased that you won the trophy.’
‘I expect you’ve donated many,’ Alex said, not wanting to be singled out on any terms by this strange ugly creature dressed in green.
‘Oddly enough, just the one you’re holding.’ Susannah turned her reptile eyes on Rebecca. ‘I might have known you wouldn’t be far away from your master,’ she hissed.
Rebecca made to move away but Alex caught her arm. ‘I hope you’ve enjoyed the regatta, Susannah. I’ve promised Becca some refreshment. If you’ll excuse us.’ He hauled Rebecca away with him before Susannah Bosanko could make a protest and suggest she join them.
‘Alex, you’re hurting me!’ Rebecca struggled.
He apologised and loosened his grip but kept up the same pace, eager to be away from the old woman.
‘You were very rude to Miss Bosanko,’ she said accusingly after he pushed the trophy into her hands and ordered two cups of tea at a stall.
‘And two of those huge saffron buns.’ He smiled at the serving woman, relieved at his escape. ‘I wish I’d never got to know her,’ he said to Rebecca. ‘There’s something unnerving about her.’
‘Well, I agree with you on that. Something evil about her, if you ask me. You needn’t worry about her bothering you again today. I saw her march off through the town with her chauffeur. She won’t be pleased at the long drive back. She’s too afraid to cross the river on the King Harry ferry. Jossy told me she’s terrified of water, for some reason.’
‘As long as it keeps her away from me, that’s all I care about. Eat your saffron bun, Becca, my dear. I’m starving; it’s this wonderful sea air.’ They sat on the sea wall sipping their tea. Alex looked contentedly at the water, teeming with craft of every size and colour. ‘It’s been a wonderful day. Nothing could have happened here to spoil it.’
Chapter 27
The customers of the Oystercatcher were in a celebratory mood at the end of the evening, with all the talk centred on the regatta. Most members of the Trevallion estate had sailed on from the regatta to the pub. The men crowded round the bar, the women round two tables.
The drinks flowed, and Donald Jenkins, who was in charge of the Trevallion crew beer kitty, did not have to squeeze through the crowds asking the men for regular top-ups, thanks to Alex’s generosity. Joe offered his hand to Trease and complimented him on his rowing that afternoon, and Rebecca was pleased to see they had found something of the old friendship they’d had before the war.
Abigail had not wanted to go on to the pub and had surprised everyone by offering to mind Tamsyn for the evening so she could play with Stephen at the gatehouse. It had taken a lot of cajoling to get Loveday to agree to come to the pub and she sat next to Rebecca, feeling uncomfortable and complaining about the din the men were making.
Jacky Jenkins started up on his fiddle and the singing began. The Cornishmen filled the air with rowing songs and boisterous sea shanties.
The landlord came over to the women’s tables with a tray of drinks. ‘On the Major, ladies,’ he said cheerfully. A sudden loud cheer went up from the bar as another song was finished and Loveday spilled her tonic water.
‘Look at them,’ she said crossly. ‘Grown men behaving like irresponsible schoolboys. The Major shouldn’t be encouraging them.’
‘Don’t hurt to let your hair down now and then, Loveday.’ Jenny Jenkins laughed and raised her port and lemon to Alex, who nodded back with a king-sized grin. Jenny took a sip and stroked Rebecca’s hair. ‘Becca’s enjoying herself but then she’s got her hair down nearly all the time.’
The women cackled and Loveday made an angry sound and turned away from them. An old man sitting at the next table caught her eye and winked at her and she turned back in a huff ‘I know I shouldn’t have come. It doesn’t set a good example to Tamsyn.’
Rebecca glanced around to make sure none of the other women were listening then whispered into her ear, ‘I suppose Mr Drayton’s company is more to your liking, eh, Loveday?’
She expected Loveday to blush furiously and tell her off sternly. Instead her face took on a soft glow. She lost her prim demeanour and looked like someone of Rebecca’s own age. ‘Mr Drayton is a friend of mine, Rebecca,’ she said in a mellow voice. ‘There is nothing more to it than that.’
Rebecca listened to the next song for a while then plucked up the courage to ask, ‘Has he asked to see you again?’
Loveday looked shyly round the bar, then hid behind her glass. ‘Actually he’s going to help me with my garden.’
‘Oh, that’s nice.’ It had sounded a bit lame but Rebecca knew Loveday would be frightened to co
ntinue her association with Mr Drayton if others made too much of it.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Mrs Kellow, her stout body squeezing Ira Jenkins up the corner of a bench, asked loudly. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve got yourself a young man at last, Becca? I haven’t forgot what you said at the tea stall.’
‘Are you all right, Mrs Jenkins?’ Loveday asked Jenny, ignoring Mrs Kellow.
Jenny was massaging the side of her neck. ‘I’m fine, m’dear, I’ve just had this neck all day. Everything gets a bit stiff when you get to my age.’
This caused an outbreak of female tittering which Loveday did not join.
The main party of Kennickers left just before closing time. Joe was eager to leave. Alex and Trease were among those who decided to stay on for a private party with the landlord.
Rebecca tapped Alex on the arm as she filed out with the women. ‘Father’s well on the way to getting merry. I’m relying on you to bring him home in one piece.’
Alex raised his whisky glass. ‘Your wish is my command, my lady.’ He smiled a little drunkenly. ‘Trust me.’
‘Get along with you all!’ Trease shouted at Alex’s side. ‘Blasted women spoiling a man’s fun.’
‘You can’t trust any man with anything when he’s drinking,’ Loveday muttered on her way out of the door.
Sitting next to Rebecca in the Iseult taking them home, Loveday asked quietly, ‘Have you got a young man, Rebecca?’
Rebecca looked through the still night air. A pale round moon lit a magical path for the boat to follow. There was hardly a breeze to stir the screen of trees on the shoreline and the only sound was the engine puttering and the water lapping. The boat was making good speed, passing dark nooks and crannies on shore. A bird called out, a long mellow drifting sound. It was a dreamy, peaceful end to the day and the memory of being with Neville was fresh in Rebecca’s mind. Should she tell Loveday about him? She thought not. But it wouldn’t hurt to admit there was someone special in her life.
‘There is someone.’
‘Oh, I’m so pleased for you. Who is he?’
Trevallion Page 26