Echoes of the Dance (6 page)

She groaned with embarrassment as Roly and Kate began to laugh.

‘It's OK,' Kate reassured her. ‘He didn't say so in so many words but I knew what he was hoping when he asked me to come and see Floss. Dear Roly. He tries to sort us all out, you know. Me, Monica, Mim, Nat . . .'

‘Utter rubbish.' Roly shifted uncomfortably. ‘I wouldn't have the courage to attempt to interfere in anyone's life.'

Daisy drew breath to ask about Monica and Nat – these were names she hadn't heard before – and then decided that she'd been quite inquisitive enough for the time being.

‘I don't remember using the word “interfere”,' Kate was saying lightly. She was smiling at Roly. ‘And I must admit that I'm very taken with Floss.'

Daisy saw hope leap up in Roly's face. ‘She's a very nice person,' he said.

Kate took the dog's head between her hands. ‘She's missing her mistress,' she murmured. ‘Aren't you, Floss?'

‘Shall we give them a walk?' Roly pushed his chair back from the table. ‘It would do us all good. Come on, Daisy. What were you saying about rest and gentle exercise? Well, you've had a jolly good rest, by the sound of it.'

Daisy went away to put her boots on, her natural curiosity thoroughly stirred by Kate's dilemma. As she laced up her boots, easing her back carefully, she realized that she hadn't thought about her own problems – or Paul – for almost an hour.

‘Sorry,' Roly was saying. ‘Actually, I didn't say that you
would
have Floss. Only that you would understand how she was feeling.'

Kate put her hand on his arm.

‘Don't apologize, for heaven's sake. Good grief, Roly, after all the support you've given me, do you think I'm likely to misunderstand you? You've only ever tried to help me. I can't believe I'm being so stupid. It's just so strange to be alone again after thirteen years. And you know how much I miss the dogs.'

‘That's why I wondered about Floss.' Roly nearly covered Kate's hand with his own but couldn't quite manage it. ‘She seems almost perfect for you.'

Kate turned away to look at Floss, who had gone back to sit on her bed, watching and waiting patiently.

‘She's been well looked after,' she said, assessing her with a professional eye. ‘How old is she? Seven? Eight?'

‘She's not quite seven. Her owner was elderly so she's very quiet and obedient. She's been very well trained. You can see that she's not used to dashing about but she's certainly enjoying her walks.'

She glanced at him, amused. ‘You sound very attached to her already. Are you tempted?'

‘A bit. I still think she might be just what you need.'

Kate sighed with frustration. ‘I just wish I knew. I'm afraid to make a commitment, you see, and then find I'm moving house.'

He looked at her. ‘I expect Floss would be very happy with you even in a tiny cottage and in a tiny car. Well, not too tiny.'

Kate burst out laughing at herself. ‘I'm just a crazy woman,' she said. ‘There are so many memories, you see, even with the old car. I feel once I make that move I'm cutting myself off from the past and everything I had and loved.' Her face grew sombre. ‘But when it gets dark and I'm sitting there alone with all that big empty house around me . . .'

He put his hand out to her and she took it, holding it tightly, not looking at him.

‘I'm fine,' she said, almost crossly, daring him to speak. ‘Absolutely fine.'

They watched in silence as Daisy appeared in the yard and Floss went out to meet her, tail wagging.

‘She's a sweetie, isn't she?' Kate gave his hand a little squeeze and let it go.

‘Which one? Daisy or Floss?' asked Roly lightly, putting his hands into his pockets.

Kate chuckled reflectively. ‘Both of them,' she said at last. ‘To be truthful, I'd like to take them both home with me.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

As she drove back to Tavistock later that afternoon, hurrying along the narrow lanes and through the pretty village of Altarnun, Kate cursed quietly to herself. It had been unfair to announce in front of a third person that she'd arranged to have the house valued. Roly had suggested that she should give herself plenty of time before she made a major change and she'd known that Daisy's presence would prevent another circular discussion in which Roly made sensible suggestions and she was left trying to decide why she couldn't act on them. She'd long ago realized that it was childish to involve other people – however dear, however wise – in her problems. If they gave advice that she couldn't follow she felt guilty and they became irritated. Not that Roly gave advice in that sense: he was far too tactful. All he'd done was to try to double-guess her own needs and guide her into some path that would be the right one for her. Now she felt that she'd cheated in some way: telling him that she'd finally reached the decision in front of a stranger had made it impossible for him to react openly.

She reminded herself that having the house valued was hardly a major step, and that she remained uncommitted to any further move, but deep inside she felt she'd behaved shabbily. The real problem was that she knew that Roly loved her: ever since David had first introduced them in London nearly thirteen years ago, Roly had not quite been able to hide his feelings for her. David had recognized it too, though they'd both agreed that they should spare Roly's pride as far as possible and never let him know that they'd guessed. Roly and Mim were two of David's oldest friends; David was godfather to Roly's son, Nat.

David had been Roly's tutor at art college and it had come as a great surprise to Kate when she'd learned that the brother and sister had been born and brought up in Cornwall. They were so very much a part of David's London circle: that group of actors and artists, dancers and writers to whom – also to her surprise – she'd become so attached. When she'd first met David he was already a well-known artist, an RA; it had been an oddly emotional meeting, tied up as it was with the untimely death of a mutual friend, and within a very short time they'd passed beyond social formalities into an unusual intimacy.

His ability to disarm her had taken her by surprise. Perhaps it was because his arrival in her life had coincided with a time of particular loneliness, with her twin boys grown up and away at university; not that she was a stranger to loneliness, having been a naval wife for ten years until her marriage to Mark Webster had finally collapsed. When her one truly passionate love affair with Alex Gillespie had also come to a disastrous conclusion she'd agreed to sell her cottage and buy the house in Whitchurch with her brother, Chris, who worked abroad and wanted a base in the UK. For the next thirteen years she'd concentrated on bringing up Giles and Guy, managing to avoid any kind of emotional commitment – until she'd met David.

Somehow, he'd managed to break down the barriers of loneliness and fear she'd so carefully erected: not that she'd made it easy for him.

‘You must see that we're simply poles apart,' she'd said to him. ‘I don't see how it can work. You in London, me here. I hate cities. You'd be bored rigid in the country . . .'

She'd never believed that their relationship could survive, divided between London and Dartmoor, but they'd both worked hard to make it succeed. David had been such a giving, sharing man: optimistic and a lover of life. He'd died after a long illness and she missed him terribly. With David he'd stepped out of her quiet, safe shelter and, for the third time, taken a chance on love. This time, with a much older and experienced man, she'd discovered the real happiness forged within a close companionship that was nevertheless flexible enough to give her new confidence room to grow.

Now, alone again, she was trying to build some kind of a life without him. Swallowing back her grief, Kate drove on through Fivelanes and joined the A30. She was afraid that in her loneliness she might mislead Roly, for she loved him very much, and she was trying to walk a fine line between love and friendship. It was much harder than she'd imagined. Instinctively, as she pressed her foot down on the accelerator, she glanced into her driving mirror as if half expecting to see the noble head of her dear dog and companion, Felix, gazing out at the passing countryside. Even after three months the emptiness of the car still came as a shock to her and she gripped the wheel more tightly, staring resolutely ahead. In the distance the great tors and hills of Dartmoor stretched from east to west across the horizon; powerful and dramatic, dominating the plains to the north, yet peaceful in the afternoon sunshine.

The familiar sight soothed her: all her life the moor had remained her one constant source of comfort. She relaxed, drawing a deep breath, and concentrated on the morning that had passed so happily and on her meeting with Daisy and with Floss.

When she pulled into her drive half an hour later she saw that someone was mowing the long lawn at the back of the house. Her spirits lifted and she went down the garden, waiting until she could make herself heard before she called out.

‘Nat,' she cried, as he cut the engine and bent to check the grass-box. ‘This is very kind. How nice to see you.'

He straightened up and smiled a welcome; a stocky, well-built young man, strong and tough-looking, with a flair for garden design and a natural knack of being courteous but firm with some of his more misguided clients. ‘They think they know what they want,' he'd say, ‘but you only have to look at a piece of ground to see its natural shape behind the shrubberies and borders. Luckily, most people are open to suggestion.'

Kate was very fond of him.

‘A client cancelled,' he said, ‘so I decided to drop by. I hoped you might turn up and I thought I might as well be busy while I waited.'

‘Quite right.' She beamed at him. ‘I wouldn't have wanted you sitting about doing nothing. I've just been down to see Roly. He's fostering a darling bitch and he's trying to tempt me. He thinks Floss would be good for me.'

Nat shook his head regretfully. ‘What a bossy lot we Carradines are. Always telling other people what's best for them.'

‘Oh, but it's such a relief sometimes to be told what to do,' Kate said, ‘especially when you're a ditherer like me.'

‘You're not a ditherer. You've got to take some life- changing decisions and that's the kind of thing that isn't done all in a moment.'

‘How comforting you are. How are things? Anything new?'

Nat shrugged. ‘Not much.' A slight pause. ‘Mum's coming down for a few days.' He looked at her and glanced away again. ‘I wondered if you might come over one evening for supper.'

‘I'd love to,' said Kate, undeceived by this casual invitation. ‘And you could bring her here for lunch or tea or whatever.'

‘Thanks. Look, I'll finish the lawn and then I could take the sit-on mower round the paddock. It's time you made the first cut now the grass is really beginning to shoot up.'

‘That would be very kind,' answered Kate gratefully. She inhaled appreciatively. ‘Doesn't new-mown grass smell heavenly? Come in for a cup of tea when you've done the lawn.'

He turned away, going back to his work, and Kate looked after him compassionately for a moment before finding her keys and letting herself into the house. She knew that Nat found the relationship with his mother difficult to sustain and he had often called upon Kate and David to help out when Monica was visiting. This was never easy. Monica resented the fact that, like Roly, both David and Kate had supported Nat when he'd made his decision to branch out on his own and, after his training, had let him stay with them at Tavistock whilst he found his feet.

Kate had many friends who were willing to give Nat a try and gradually he'd built up a good client base. He'd worked very hard, never turning down a job however small, until he was confident to take the lease on a small terraced cottage in Horrabridge. His gratitude to her and David took the form of looking after their big garden: cutting the grass and the hedges and providing low-level maintenance on the out- buildings. He'd kept an eye on the place when they were in London and had become almost as much a part of the family as her own sons, Giles and Guy.

‘And certainly much more useful,' she said to him now, as they drank their tea standing in the warm sunshine in the little paved court behind the house, looking out onto Nat's handiwork whilst she told him the latest family news. ‘The garden looks wonderful. I'm afraid I failed with my boys in that area. Neither of them are very practical, although Guy is an expert when it comes to boats.'

‘What do they say about you selling up?' asked Nat. ‘Do they have any helpful input?'

‘They can see that this place is really too big for me now, but they agree with Roly that it would be a mistake to be too hasty in taking a decision. They warn me that I've been used to big rooms and lots of space and that I might feel claustrophobic if I go for something very small, though that's what I feel I'd like to do. The grandchildren like to come for sleepovers but, with Giles and Guy only an hour away, one spare bedroom should be more than enough.'

‘And what about dogs? I have to say that you just don't look right without a dog, Kate.'