Authors: Stella Whitelaw
‘Goodnight, Willdo,’ said Lucas, pausing again in the hallway, on his way to the stables. ‘Do I get a goodnight kiss?’
‘Sorry,’ said Jessica. ‘That’s something Willdo, won’t do.’
Jessica drove down to Worthing sea front with Daniel and Lily strapped into the back seat. She prayed that she would not get lost or lose the children. It was a straightforward drive, nothing complicated, lots of visible signposts. She immediately found somewhere to park along the front and put money into the meter.
The size and expanse of the sea front was like tearing apart sky curtains and seeing a vast blue seascape moving in every direction. There were four miles of promenade to walk on (or cycle if you weren’t caught), acres of sand and shingle when the tide was far out, the pier to perambulate on if it was high tide and the waves were lashing the high shoreline. The smell of ozone was a reminder of seaside holidays. The screeching
seagulls
set up a raucous welcome
‘It’s the sea. I love it, I love it,’ said Lily, jumping up and down with excitement, her hair bobbing about. ‘I want to paddle. Willdo, can we paddle?’
‘Of course,’ said Jessica. ‘Let me lock up the car, get our towels and the backpack, and we’ll be away down the beach. We’ll find somewhere out of the wind. Would you like that, Daniel, to go on the beach?’
‘Go on the beach,’ he said solemnly.
They wore canvas trainers going down the slippery slope of the shingle but once free of the pebbles, they shed their shoes and ran over the wet sand, splashing through puddles, fording
rivulets, skirting rocks, making for the tiny waves that lapped in the far distance. Jessica had a job keeping up with the children.
Daniel ran ahead, sensing freedom, sensing the elements that demanded nothing of him. Water made him free from a world he did not understand. No one wanted to talk to him. The lapping of the wavelets was a gentle sound. He had an unusual burst of energy, legs awkward, arms waving erratically.
They were all wearing shorts and vest tops, even Jessica. Her shorts were cut off jeans with a frayed edge. Lady Grace had been outraged.
‘My grandchildren don’t wear such skimpy clothes. I demand that you put them into something decent. Hasn’t Lily got a frock?’
‘They are going on the beach and they are going to get wet. I’m taking along dry clothes and fleeces in case it gets chilly. Would you like to come with us? It’s not far in the car.’
‘Good heavens, no. I don’t want to walk along the front with Fred. Most improper. I might meet someone I know.’
Jessica and Mrs Harris had come to a new and amicable arrangement. Mrs Harris was to have every other afternoon and evening off. In return she would look after Lady Grace on the afternoons when Jessica wanted to take the children out. It was more time off than Mrs Harris had ever had before. Anyone could see she was pleased the way she fussed round the kitchen, cleaning surfaces that were already clean and sparkling. It was like an unexpected lifeline.
‘It’ll make a real difference,’ she said warmly. ‘Having a bit of regular time off to myself. It’s always been difficult to get away and those other nannies were useless to leave in charge. No good at all, drinking and smoking. I’d like to go to the village hall afternoon Bingo. I might win a fortune one day.’
Jessica had made real progress with Lady Grace but it had not been easy. The first time she had made it down the stairs and into the sitting room, Jessica called for celebration drinks and Lucas had opened a bottle of champagne. Lady Grace had been flushed with pride, but alarmed by the thought of
the climb back upstairs. A few minutes in her beloved walled garden gave her renewed courage to make the climb. She picked a few roses for her room.
‘You can do it,’ said Jessica encouragingly. ‘Well done. You’ve proved that.’
‘You’re such a bully,’ said Lady Grace. ‘And yet you are so slim. I don’t know how I put up with you.’
‘Because you know I’m right. Exercise is the answer. You might not admit it but the pain is not so bad these days, is it?’
‘I still need my painkillers.’
‘I know that but not so many,’ said Jessica, preparing the blood thinning medication. ‘I’m the guardian of your
painkillers
. Custodian, keeper, steward.’
‘You do talk a lot of highfalutin nonsense. Get me a cup of tea, please, Jess. And those roses need dead-heading. Look at the poor things.’
‘I’m not here to do gardening.’
‘I shall have to bribe you.’
‘Difficult, but you could try.’
Lily got the wettest. She had no fear of the water and was soon paddling and jumping over incoming waves, splashing through puddles. The tide was on the turn and they were surprised how the expanse of wet sand began to disappear under the incoming sea. They had the sense to obey Jessica and return back to shore.
Daniel was more interested in what the tide was bringing in with it. So many shells and bits of seaweed, dead fish and
driftwood
. He was scavenging in the pools, collecting all sorts of bits and pieces in his bucket. The shells were so interesting and so intricate. He was completely immersed in his treasure hunt.
Jessica had brought a magazine to read on the beach but she didn’t get past page three. A book would have been better but she dare not take her eyes off either child for more than a moment. She might get lost in a good book.
Irrational fears crowded her mind: drowning, abduction, fish hooks.
The day before yesterday she had taken the children to the mobile library on its weekly visit to West Eastly. They had never been before and were amazed at the choice of books. Jessica had found some new books for Lady Grace which were accepted with reluctant gratitude. Daniel settled on a book with colour photographs of animals which he liked a lot. Lily chose more books than she could carry and insisted on carrying them across the green to the car.
‘Let me take some of them,’ Jessica offered.
‘I want to carry all my books from the library myself,’ Lily insisted.
Now they were enjoying themselves on the beach as children should, running about here and there, digging wet sand,
collecting
shells. Lily was filling her lungs with clean coastal air, not coughing or wheezing at all. Pure sea ozone.
As the waves edged them nearer and nearer to the shore of shingle, it was not quite so much fun. Bare feet on sharp stones is
ouch
time. They were slipping and sliding on a shelf of wet pebbles. But Jessica had brought plastic flip-flops for them to wear and the discomfort was soon forgotten. They had a picnic tea higher up on the beach – plenty of cheese sandwiches, apples and pears, yogurts, cartons of juice. They ate every crumb, then shook it all down skimming pebbles into the waves, watching the greedy seagulls diving into the deeper water for their fish suppers. Daniel was quite good at skimming. He watched the bouncing pebbles.
‘Wow! Daniel’s pebble bounced four times. One more go, everyone.’
It was two very tired children whom Jessica drove home to Upton Hall, drowsy and wet and sandy. Lily went to sleep on the back seat. Daniel sat close, examining his treasures. His romp on the beach had brought a colour to his cheeks. His hair was stiff with sea water.
‘Did you enjoy the beach, Daniel?’ Jessica asked. ‘It was fun, wasn’t it?’
‘Fun,’ he said, from the depths of his bucket.
‘You’ve both brought half of the beach home with you,’ said Jessica later, as Lily’s bath water filled with a swirl of sand. ‘I shall have to wash your hair.’
‘Please don’t tug my hair.’
‘I’ll try not to, poppet. Hold this little towel over your eyes.’
Lucas appeared in the doorway, tousled and leaning on the doorway, as if he didn’t have the strength to hold himself up. Jessica wanted to soothe away the fatigue, wipe away the pain, let him fall sleep in her arms. She shook away the devastating thoughts, wishing her emotions would calm down. They were burning her up. He was not her responsibility.
‘So you’ve had an afternoon on Worthing beach? Some people are lucky,’ he said laconically. ‘Some people have to work, day and night.’
‘I was working,’ said Jessica.
‘We had a picnic tea on the beach and we didn’t even have plates!’ said Lily, who thought this was the best part. ‘We ate out of a box!’
‘How civilized,’ said Lucas, raising his dark eyebrows. ‘It could catch on, eating out of boxes. No washing up.’
‘As long as you bring them home,’ said Jessica.
Lucas agreed. ‘Did you bring your litter home, Lily?’
‘We did.’
But Lily’s attention had already wandered elsewhere. ‘Are you going to have your supper with Willdo, Daddy? She will look after you, when she has put on some clothes. She will make herself look very nice, in a frock.’
Jessica was still in her cut-off denim shorts and vest top. They were indeed skimpy and clung damply to her soft curves. Lucas could see the shape of her breasts and he could not wrench his gaze away. They were too enticing, so deliciously feminine, made to be touched and explored.
And those long tanned legs were asking to be stroked. Lucas moved away with barely concealed impatience, the tension between them rising. ‘Supper sharp at eight, Jessica, is that all right?’ he said curtly. ‘And Lily is right. Put some clothes on.
You look positively indecent.’
Jessica gave him an ironic, distant stare. ‘Most medics are used to half-clad women. It goes with the job.’
‘I do faces, not bodies,’ he said.
Jessica went to an extreme. She made sure every inch was covered. She put on a baggy cotton jersey and black trousers and a waistcoat and scarf. Her slip-on black shoes completed the camouflage. She combed her fringe well over her eyes and brushed her hair onto her shoulders.
‘The only part of me showing is my nose,’ she said as she went into the dining room. Supper was waiting on the hot trays.
‘Quite a nice nose,’ he said, without looking at her. ‘I could do a bob or a tuck but you don’t need it. Mrs Harris has left us a beef casserole with lots of vegetables. It’s very hot and smells delicious. Would you like some wine? I’ve managed to open the bottle this time.’
‘It’s the practice you need.’
‘I’ll remember that and keep practising.’
Jessica took a small helping of the casserole, avoiding the tasty chunks of dark meat. But she had plenty of vegetables, broccoli, French beans, carrots, mashed potatoes. There was home-made blackcurrant cheesecake afterwards.
‘I see that you are avoiding the beef,’ said Lucas. ‘Is there a reason?’
‘I don’t much like eating animals. Not exactly a vegetarian, but near. I occasionally eat fish, but mainly because I think fish have a chance to get away.’
‘Not in fish farms.’
‘I know,’ said Jessica, realizing this was merely polite
conversation
. He was not really interested in what she said. He was so self-contained, a passionate introvert. ‘It’s getting all too
complicated
these days. I won’t know what to eat.’
Lucas was almost too tired to eat. He pushed away his plate. ‘Do you mind if I tell you about today? I had a little girl in this morning, her name’s Maggie. She was attacked by three Rottweilers. They tore at her face and broke her jaw in three
places. She’s a mess, but alive.’
Jessica caught her breath at the horror of it. ‘Poor little thing. How dreadful. Is she going to be all right? What did you do?’
‘For the moment I’ve done what I can. She’ll need some skin grafts when the injuries have healed. Her mouth is damaged. It’s going to be a long haul.’
Jessica was always shaken by injuries to innocent children. ‘Can we do anything for her? Does Maggie need anything?’
Lucas thought for a moment. ‘If Lily has any spare books or toys, they might help Maggie. She’s going to feel really bad these early days and needs distraction. She only has a disabled grandmother who lives quite a long journey away.’
‘Would it be of any help if I came and read stories to her?’ Jessica heard herself saying. The offer came out without any thought of how it could be organized or when she might have time. She would have to drive to East Grinstead and back. Perhaps there was a train. She realized her offer was near impossible. There was Lady Grace to think of, as well as the two children. They were her responsibilities.
‘That’s very kind of you, Jessica, but I don’t see how it can be worked out. Let me think about it. Some of Lily’s toys might be acceptable.’
He pushed away his slice of cheesecake, unable to finish it. He looked at Jessica over his glass of wine. He wondered how she would take his news. He was knotted with tension, rigid, yet restless.
‘I have something to tell you,’ he said, his face changing oddly.
‘So, tell me.’
Jessica wondered why he was suddenly so serious. His eyes clouded and he pushed his unruly hair back. It was easy to see that he didn’t know how to begin.
‘I have been thinking about it for some time,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long time since my wife, Liz, died. They used to call us the three L’s, Lucas, Liz and Lily. We were a lively threesome.’ He didn’t include Daniel, she noticed. How sad.
Jessica froze. No one had ever said anything about Mrs Coleman as if she never existed. Jessica dare not say anything for fear of breaking the spell. Lucas was finding it difficult, that was clear. She let him go on.
‘It was a car accident, late at night. Head on crash with an articulated lorry on the M25. Instantaneous death. Horrific. They were both killed outright.’
His voice was without emotion. He could have been reading a weather forecast to an unseen audience of millions. There was nothing in his expression either. Yet he was talking about his wife, mother of his children. He was staring into his glass of wine, as if seeing the carnage again in the pool of red.
‘Both of them?’ Jessica said, after a moment’s hesitation. It seemed like prying, opening a painful wound. The room was still. Nothing moved. The oil portraits looked down on them in stony silence. Maybe they had heard it all before, centuries ago. It was the same old story.
‘Did I say both?’ He stared at her.
‘Yes, you did.’
‘You misheard me. I said nothing of the kind. And anyway, it’s none of your business. Now I’ve lost my train of thought. Don’t interrupt.’