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The bus moved relentlessly on. She had no idea really why she had got onto this bus. She turned and leaned her forehead against the glass, felt the condensation against her skin like cold sweat. And then it came to her; but she did know. She understood where she was going. She would find another bus heading further north. The last stretch she would have to walk. And if they weren't there?

That was a question for tomorrow.

She closed her eyes, longing to be next to the quiet sounds of the sea, the uninterrupted dark filled with salt and the sound of waves, silence unknotting the pain beneath the hollow of her collarbone.

Nothing more she could do now except let things fall from her hands. The truth was she was only bringing forward what was going to happen, when they eventually knew. She saw Nicky marrying the sort of girl that Alice had wanted for him. And she saw how Alice was right: Nicky would be happy. He would marry the kind of girl that Alice would approve of. Best this way in the end.

CHAPTER 15

Buxton, 1941

The first thing Alice had noticed when she read the invitation was that Richard would be there. There was his name on the choir list. He must be on leave for the weekend.

Then she was cross with herself: she wanted to go because it was music and it was Yarnton Manor and the weekend would be delicious, and if Richard was there – they had after all met through the Music Society at a college do – well then, she couldn't help that. She'd ignore him and he'd see that she'd completely got over him. She'd chat with him, perfectly civilised and carefree, because, really, she was absolutely fine. She blinked away the smart in her eye that came when she thought about those photos.

‘Who is your letter from, darling?'

She folded the typed sheet, as if mother might see her thoughts written out on the paper.

‘Oh, it's just an invite for the Music Society. Daniel's organised a Tallis weekend at his parents' place outside Oxford before term starts. Thought I might go along.'

‘You'll be going up to Oxford early this term?'

‘Yes, Mummy, but only by a few days.'

‘Will Richard be there?'

‘I really haven't given it any thought.'

Yarnton Manor wasn't huge, but it was perfect. The stone was honey-coloured biscuit with rococo gingerbread decorations of urns and swags of leaves. It stood with a pale golden symmetry in front of a winter blue sky. The gardens leading to the stone portico were laid out in circles and rhomboids of spicy boxwood hedges. The frozen icing sugar of morning frost had paled the colours of the leaves to a silvery green.

Daniel, who had taken on the running of the Music Society, answered the door. He was wearing a baggy jumper with holed elbows and a yellow silk cravat. His hair hadn't been combed and his tortoiseshell specs had slid halfway down his nose. He was holding a sheaf of music.

‘Alice, you old rogue. So glad you could make it.'

‘It's awfully good of you to have us, of your parents, I mean, letting us tramp all over their place.'

‘Oh, they love it. Mama will be sidling in to join the altos, and so long as Papa has his bottle of malt, he doesn't care what noise we make. And well, just because there's a war on doesn't mean the important things should stop. Then we really would be beaten.'

‘When are you called up?'

‘End of this term. Start training, then get posted.'

‘Oh, Daniel. That's so soon.'

‘Anyway, hoping for enough people to do the forty part motet,' he said, evidently not wanting to think about anything but the weekend, a rare space of a few days, protected from anything to do with the mess going on in the rest of Europe. That would come soon enough.

She followed him across the threadbare Indian rugs scattered over the flagstone floor, their patterns worn away to an imprint of colours. Even though it was late morning the blackout curtains in the great
hall were still drawn. An elderly man in a black suit was slowly pulling them back with a long pole.

One side of the hall was cluttered with bedrolls and sleeping bags and exploded rucksacks. In spite of the fire crackling in the huge fireplace the hall was almost as cold as the garden outside.

‘Boys' dorm down here, girls' dorm up in the long gallery. Though we're also using it for rehearsals in the daytime.'

She followed him upstairs, the uneven wooden treads creaking as they went. He paused. ‘You know Richard's getting here some time today?'

She smiled broadly. ‘How lovely. Haven't seen him for ages.' She held the smile.

‘So long as you know. Main thing is, as soon as we have enough voices we can get going. And here we are. Find somewhere to stow your stuff in one of the rooms at the end and then come through to the long gallery.'

The long gallery was full of groups of people talking, half-heard conversations about who was being called up. She didn't know any of them particularly well, but she broke into a circle of backs and listened to an aloof man complaining that the last time he'd heard Palestrina it had been ruined by the soprano being a girl, when everyone knew it had been written for a boy soprano or, best of all, a castrato. They laughed. She scanned the room, but there was still no sign of Richard.

She headed for a cluster of girls she recognised. They were seated on a large sofa, some on the rug, laughing at a young man who was rolling on the floor with a collie pup in a mock fight. He had a lean but sturdy athletic build, and an evident disregard for the occasion and the place.

It was Ralph.

She'd hardly seen him since their disastrous evening at the Randolph a couple of months ago. He'd left a note in her college
pigeon hole several times, called her lodgings, but she hadn't replied. A couple of times she had seen him in town; she'd turned and slipped away in the opposite direction. With a sinking heart she realised that she may as well get it over with. She walked over and stood primly at the edge of the rug. He was bunching up the pup's ears and growling as the dog tried to lick his face.

As soon as Ralph saw her he leapt up and enveloped her in a bear hug so entirely comical that all she could do was laugh. Trying to get her breath back she flopped down on the rug. Ralph sat down next to her, beaming broadly. The collie pup leapt over him onto her lap and stretched up to lick her face. She trapped the warm puppy in her arms.

‘Oh good save, Alice. I think she likes you.'

‘She's wrecking my poor jacket,' she laughed.

‘Here.' He took the enthusiastic pup from her while she adjusted her clothes and then her hair. She'd done it up with more care than usual. While it was still dark she had got up to set the rolls of curls in place with pins.

‘But I didn't know you were coming, Ralph. I didn't know you sang.'

‘I sight read, but this is all a bit new to me. I was always the stinker at boarding school who was sloping off to play the piano instead of getting on with my prep; but then I met Barbara here and she introduced me to Tallis.'

‘You like early music?'

‘I think some of the nicest stuff you can hear was written in the Renaissance,' he said.

The girl next to him nodded enthusiastically. Small and dark and with an intelligent face, she was paying intense attention to anything Ralph said or did, holding herself in a stiff, self-conscious way. Evidently this was Barbara. She giggled and leaned over to Ralph to brush a strand of hair behind his ear.

Slightly taken aback, Alice stared. Ralph certainly seemed perfectly at one with the world; and apparently quite recovered from his infatuation of the term before. Well, she was glad to see he'd found someone else at last. She raised her head and scanned the room again.

‘We're in the same group, you know,' Ralph said.

‘Oh?'

Daniel appeared, looking gloomy. ‘Just got a telephone call from Richard. He won't be here till tomorrow; and he was giving a lift to a couple of the others so we're still three voices down today. I suppose we could make a start with what we have.'

There was a flurry of people being arranged into small groups. Then they began the work of the first sing-through.

There were eight groups, each with five voices, set around the room in a semicircle so everyone could see Daniel conducting. Alice joined Ralph and Barbara, who spent more time with her eyes on Ralph than on the music. Ralph didn't seem to notice. Absorbed in the music, his baritone voice blended with the others' thoughtfully, with none of the bravado that some of the male singers displayed – Richard would have been clearly distinguishable above everyone else and pleased to be so.

With no Richard there, even in a place as lovely as Yarnton, the day lacked the heart-stopping magic that seemed to follow him around, and yet the moment she'd heard Richard was delayed Alice had felt oddly relieved; for a while she could put aside all the tense scenarios that she had played out on the early train, watching the dark window change into the glare of dawn.

After the first rehearsal she sat with Ralph and his friends at one end of the long, oak table in the Jacobean dining room for lunch. There were trays of baked potatoes and the wartime sausages, all fat and bread – but plenty of them. And it was easy and rather fun being with Ralph now that all that silliness was over. She looked sideways at
him, seeing what Barbara might see. His face seemed longer and less boyish these days, although his dark hair was as dishevelled as ever; one had to admit that Ralph was rather handsome really, in his way.

Barbara had taken to staring at her. It was positively rude. Alice wasn't sure what she'd heard about last term, but she was definitely boring into Alice with her eyes as if trying to read what was so special about her. She decided to leave Barbara with her prey.

She'd packed the long, satin gown in case there was a formal party that evening, one never knew with the war and all that. But she couldn't be bothered to put it on – have to live up to it – and it was too cold anyway. Nobody else was getting changed. They ate thick barley and vegetable soup down in the kitchens, bread and more sausages, wrinkled apples from trays from the wine cellar.

‘If there's a raid we all head down to the cellar,' Daniel announced, waving his apple. ‘Not that there's been one out here so far.'

The shadow of a thought passed over faces. Next year, what would have changed? Who would be away fighting? Who would be missing? It made the evening seem intensely sweet and fleeting, already too nearly over.

Up in the long gallery someone put a record on the gramophone and people began to dance to ‘In the Mood'. Ralph and Alice sat and watched. Ralph had rolled up his shirtsleeves, leaning back with a half-smile, his hands behind his head.

They roasted small chestnuts from Yarnton woods round a fireplace with a scorched back of heraldic stone arms and enough room to roast a couple of sheep for an Elizabethan banquet. Alice noticed that Barbara had fallen asleep on the end of a sofa, snoring lightly.

There was a tight knot of excitement and apprehension in Alice's stomach as she went to bed that night; tomorrow Richard would
arrive. And then an awful thought occurred to her for the first time. What if he was bringing Celia?