When he left her at the Lodge, with a promise of picking her up in the morning for a trial run at the office, he felt exactly the same as when he'd been made Captain of the Rugby Fifteen at school. His jubilation was too great to be contained and he began to run, his arms outstretched, his face lifted to the stately beeches towering above him. Bertie ran with him, careering along, barking madly, and the two of them raced down the drive and into the Courtyard. Guy stopped at his front door, gasping for breath, feeling for keys, and quite light-headed with happiness. Little spurts of laughter escaped between the gasps.
âDo share the joke.' Phoebe's voice speaking out of the semidarkness made him jump. âWhat on earth have you and Bertie been up to?'
He saw her now, sitting on the bench in the corner, feet drawn up, the end of her cigarette glowing in the dusk. He gave up the search for his keys and, crossing the courtyard, sat down at the end of the seat.
âYou made me jump,' he said. âWhat are you doing, sitting on your own in the dark?'
âI've been watching the moon rise,' she answered and, looking up, he saw the thin crescent moon lying on her back in the deep turquoise sky. âIt's nearly midsummer. The longest day. Don't you think we should have a pool party? We can all swim at midnight. It's quite warm enough.'
âI think that's a brilliant idea,' said Guy, who would have agreed to anything in his present mood. âWonderful.' He remembered Nell as he had seen her at that last party and his heart beat faster.
âAnd will all your ladies be there?'
âLadies?' repeated Guy, his mind still on Nell.
Phoebe shook her head and stubbed out her cigarette. â“O heaven!”,' she quoted sadly, â“were man but constant, he were perfect.” '
âIf you mean Gemma and Sophie,' said Guy, feeling a twinge of guilt, âthey aren't my ladies. I've known them both since they were in their prams. Anyway, Gemma's got a boyfriend.'
Phoebe made a face which was wasted on Guy since it was too dark for him to see it.
âHmm,' she said irritatingly. âWell, I think everyone should be invited. It will do us all good. Outsiders? Or just Nethercombe and the Courtyard?'
âOh, not outsiders,' said Guy at once with his usual insularity and natural caution. âJust us.'
âNot Gemma or Sophie?'
âWell, perhaps them,' said Guy, remembering that they were both due home at any time and would certainly be over to see him. âThey seem to belong somehow.'
âFar too many women,' said Phoebe regretfully. âI'll have to get to work on Mr Jackson.'
âI hardly ever see him,' said Guy, glancing at the dark windows of the smallest cottage. âWhat's he like?'
âOK.' Guy could imagine the shrug. âVery cosy and very married. Drives down on Monday and back on Fridays and spends most evenings with some friends in South Brent. I expect wifie's arranged it to
keep him on the straight and narrow. I met her once when they were moving him in and told her I'd look after him.'
Guy gave a snort of laughter and Phoebe thought how nice he was once he unbent a little and relaxed.
âNo wonder he rushes into Brent,' he said. âHe must be frightened out of his wits!'
âAnd just for that, you rude boy,' remarked Phoebe, uncurling her legs and standing up, âyou can supply the nightcap. And I'm not talking about cocoa!'
Â
Â
SOMEHOW, THE IDEA OF a Midsummer's Eve party seized the imagination of everyone at Nethercombe and the place began to hum with activity. It was to be, in some way, a celebration; of life, of survival, of love. Each of them could find something to be grateful for and this became, naturally and unconsciously, the spirit of the party.
Joan and Bill Beresford arrived for a fortnight's holiday and were immediately swept up in the excitement. Bill went with Mr Ridley to spruce up the summerhouse and reinstate the lights while Joan, who was a notable cook, offered to help Mrs Ridley with the responsibility of feeding the guests. Gussie and Gillian sorted out all the old plates and glasses that wouldn't be missed if there were breakages and counted knives and forks and Phoebe went round collecting contributions to help towards the wine.
âYou can't imagine the relief on Mr Jackson's face,' she told Sophie and Gemma, who had come over early on the afternoon of the party to help, âwhen he realised that it was a Saturday and he wouldn't be here. He looked positively frightened at the mere idea.'
âI expect he was imagining Bacchanalian revels,' said Gemma, nudging Sophie. âWhat fun!'
âOh, I do hope so,' said Phoebe promptly. âI can just imagine Mr Ridley with vine leaves in his hair.'
They burst into fits of giggles and Guy, coming through the archway, eyed them suspiciously.
âI thought that you were taking chairs up to the pool,' he said.
âAnd so we are,' said Gemma. âCome on, Sophie. Two for you and two for me.'
They set off up the drive, a folding chair in either hand, grinning at Guy as they went by and he grinned back, feeling the comfortable, warm affection for the pair of them that was something quite apart from his passion for Nell. With a wisdom guided by his natural oyster-like reticence, rather than by any conscious reasoning, Guy had hardly talked about Nell to the girls. He'd given them a brief outline of the tragedy so that there should be no embarrassing blunders and told them casually that she was helping him out a couple of days a week at the office and left it at that. Guy was playing his cards very close to his chest and he had no intention of arousing any suspicions if he could possibly help it.
When they arrived at the pool the girls saw Nell for the first time. Her hair was braided down her back and her feet were bare. She wore a long green cotton dress and was tying balloons to the branches of the rhododendron bushes. It gave the place a party feel and Gemma exclaimed with pleasure.
âWhat a clever idea! They'll look so pretty when the fairy lights are on.'
Nell turned and smiled at them. âHi. You must be Guy's friends. He told me that you were coming. I'm Nell Woodward from the Lodge.'
They introduced themselves and Gemma offered to help with the balloons while Sophie set out the chairs. Gillian arrived with a hamper full of plates and glasses, Mr Ridley began to set up the barbecue and Guy and Henry appeared, carrying between them a trestle table for the food. For a while the place was a scene of intense and good-humoured activity and then slowly it began to empty. The girls went down to Phoebe's to change, Gussie swept the Beresfords up to the house for a cup of tea and Henry and Gillian strolled off into the beech walk, arm in arm. Mr Ridley picked up his tools and bits of wire and, with a smiling nod to Guy and Nell, disappeared through
the gate. Guy glanced at Nell and was quite suddenly and unreasonably overcome by shyness. She never looked quite real to him, not of this earth. He thought of her as a girl in a fairy story who might vanish at a touch. She was standing staring out over the pool and the roofs beyond and her thoughts were far away.
âNell?' he said at last and she turned a look of such brooding despair on him that he recoiled from it.
âI'm sorry.' She shook her head as if to dispel the memories of that other party when she'd arrived from Porlock Weir, pregnant and alone. âWhat did you say? I was miles away.'
âIt was nothing.' The look had unnerved him. âI'm going to take Bertie for a walk.'
He left the invitation unspoken and she made no attempt to acknowledge it.
âThat's a good idea. It'll be cooler for him now. See you later then.' She slipped her feet into espadrilles and, smiling vaguely at him, drifted through the gate and away into the shadows. Guy watched her go with confused feelings of longing and fear. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his shorts and stared down into the blue water of the pool.
âHi.' Gemma stood beside him, young and pretty in her blue denim miniskirt and her thin flowered shirt.
âHi.' He tried to sound sociable. âI thought you were at Phoebe's getting changed.'
âSophie's taken first bath and I wondered whether I might have a quick swim.'
âGood idea.' The words were an effort but somehow her presence had a soothing effect.
âDon't think I will.' She seemed to think about it and shook her head. âNo. Hey!' She looked up at him. âWhat about giving Bertie a walk? You've had him shut in all day in case he tripped someone up or got in the way. Shall we give him a run in the woods?'
âThat's just what I was going to do, actually. You've very welcome to come along. I thought you'd want to be getting all done up or whatever.'
She grinned sideways at him, the old provocative grin.
âPlenty of time. It doesn't take that long, you know, to make myself presentable.'
He knew she was teasing him and suddenly his spirits lifted. âI don't know,' he said, pretending to consider her as they went out through the gate. âAll those lines and wrinkles â¦'
She punched him on the arm, dodged as he feinted a blow at her and set off at a jog trot down the drive.
Â
NELL WANDERED ALONG THE avenue, gazing up at the great chestnut trees and the ancient oaks whose leaves made a canopy through which the sunlight could barely penetrate. It was unnerving how swiftly these reminders of the past could engulf her, toppling her from the delicate balance of acceptance and determination, rendering her both breathless with terror at the prospect of loneliness and poverty and despairing at the knowledge of all that she had lost. Scents, music, tastes, a chance remark, all these things had the power to swing her back in time, robbing her of her contentment and destroying her hard-won peace. She'd remembered herself at that other party, sitting in the summerhouse and looking at the moon, battling with the misery of losing her precious cottage at Porlock Weir and terrified at the knowledge of the new life under her heart.
Nell crossed her arms over her breast as though she would crush the intolerable ache. Would she ever be free of it all? She willed her mantra to the forefront of her mind: Jack, her friends, the cottage, Nethercombe. Somehow, it seemed almost wicked to be ungrateful when she still had such blessings. Many, many others in this terrible time had lost so much more.
But I am not being ungrateful, she thought suddenly, staring up into the great noble arches of wood and leaf. I am mourning. I am
mourning John and the baby and my home. I have lost all of them and surely I am allowed to mourn without feeling guilty?
The great dim spaces had a cathedral-like quality and Nell felt a measure of a quietening calm stealing back into her mind and heart. She dreaded this party as she had dreaded the other but she knew that she must go. That much at least she owed to these kind friends who cared so deeply about her.
Â
SOPHIE LAY IN THE bath and thought about Guy. She had built up such a romantic picture through the term that the reality was bound to be a little disappointing. Even so ⦠Sophie languidly soaped her leg and remembered what Gemma had said at the beginning; something about falling in love at least once a week until she'd started to mature a bit. Sophie, convinced that her love would last for ever, felt certain that she was different. But now she was beginning to wonder if Gemma might not have had a point. Several young men had swum into her ken during this last term and she was beginning to see that it would be foolish to tie oneself down too soon.
She'd enjoyed the Easter holidays, âmaking Guy human' as Gemma had put it, and, no doubt, there would be lots more fun this holiday. Still ⦠Sophie lay back in the hot scented water. Perhaps Gemma was right. What was she always saying? âIf there's anything better, than one man, it's two men.
Ad infinitum.'
She giggled and, reaching for her towel, stood up and started to dry herself. She was looking forward to the party.
Â
GILLIAN PARTED FROM HENRY at the study door and stood for a moment, listening to the rise and fall of Gussie's voice joined with the Beresfords' over the teacups in the library, before slipping away upstairs. In her bedroom she sat on the broad window seat and stared out over the countryside. How strange it was to be split so much in two. To be restored to this place which she had grown, almost without realising, to love so deeply and to have Henry's love, given
unconditionally and wholeheartedly, brought such happiness. Yet beside the happiness, intertwined with it, lay the guilt. When Gillian thought back over her marriage she felt hot with shame, mortified by self-disgust. She thought of the cheating and lying and felt that she would suffocate with humiliation. It was as if the shock of hearing of John's death had woken her up, opened her eyes upon the stupidity of her way of life and made her see the waste and senselessness of her behaviour. Practically overnight she had changed from a selfish spoiled child to a woman who, whatever she did, or however hard she tried to make amends, would have blood on her hands.
The fields seemed to shimmer in the heat of the late afternoon sun and, as she watched, Mr Ridley appeared in the meadow below, a gun on his arm and his elderly spaniel, nose to ground, running in front. He crossed the field and disappeared among the trees by the stream and Gillian knew that he'd gone to pot at rabbits or a pigeon in the woods that edged the swampy area under the viaduct. It was a noman's -land on the perimeter of the Nethercombe estate where no one but Mr Ridley went; a dank wet gloomy place where even the locals never ventured, though the stream was easy enough to cross in summer, their children warned away by stories of the swamp that would swallow them whole. These stories went back beyond Henry's childhood until they had reached the proportions of legend and Gillian reminded herself to warn Jack when he came home that it was one area that he mustn't explore.
It would be good for Nell to have Jack home again. At the thought of it, Gillian shook with a spasm of horror. The enormity of what she had done was almost too much to live with. She started as the telephone rang and waited to see if Henry would answer it in the study. The bell was silenced and Gillian resumed her reverie which was interrupted by Henry's voice bellowing up the stairs.
âGillian! Are you there, darling? It's Elizabeth. Gillian!'
âOK!' she shouted back. She went over and, perching on the bed, lifted the receiver. âHello, Elizabeth.'
Elizabeth and Henry spoke together and then there was a clunk as Henry replaced the receiver in the study.
âHello, Gillian.' Elizabeth's voice was cool and clear as always. âHow are you?'
Gillian was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to tell her the truth: to unburden her hot, shamed heart and blurt out the whole crippling weight of horror. She swallowed several times.
âOK,' she said at last. âFine. You?'
âI'm very well. I wondered if you could come to lunch the week after next? I haven't seen you properly since you got back. What about Wednesday?'
âOh.' Gillian bit her lip, wondering if she could face Elizabeth without breaking down completely. Obviously Lydia had told her Sam's name and she must be wondering why she, Gillian, had reacted so wildly when she mentioned it.
âIf Wednesday's no good, we could try another day. Monday?'
âWednesday's fine' Gillian spoke quickly. She could hardly avoid her godmother for the rest of her life. âThat'll be lovely. Sorry to sound so dozy. We've got a party here this evening and it's all a bit hectic. It's a Midsummer Eve pool party.'
âSounds fun.'
âWell,' Gillian hesitated, âyou'd be terribly welcome if you think it's worth the drive. We'd love to see you.'
Elizabeth laughed. âSweet of you. But I don't think it's quite my scene, lovey.'
âNo.' Gillian laughed too. She couldn't imagine the fastidious Elizabeth perched on the side of a pool eating a barbecued sausage and plunging into the water for a midnight swim. âNeither do I. Wednesday week, then.'
âLook forward to it.'
The line went dead and Gillian wandered back to the window. The sun was edging behind the trees to the west and long shadows crept across the meadow. The pool with its paved surround lay peacefully
below in its circle of green turf. Nell's balloons barely stirred in the tall branches and the chairs looked inviting, waiting for occupants. Gillian took a deep breath and turned back into the room. It was time to bathe and change and make herself ready for the party.