The Sea Garden (19 page)

‘Shut up,' mutters Guy, and gets out of the car. He has already decided that he is going to use his not inconsiderable charm and, before Oliver can introduce them, he's holding out his hand, saying, ‘You must be Jess. I'm Guy Webster, David Porteous' stepson. Congratulations on winning his Award,' and Jess is looking very slightly shy and smiling back at him.

She says something about Kate and how kind she's been inviting her to Chapel Street, but Guy has caught sight of the sail loft and the river.

‘Pretty good here, though,' he says. ‘Better than the town, I should think.'

His gaze is taking in the boats at anchor out in the deep-water channel and he instinctively moves towards them, with Jess still at his side, talking to her as he strides across the grass. She turns to look back at Oliver, gives a little apologetic shrug as she hurries to keep up.

‘That was quick work,' murmurs a voice from behind him, and Oliver swings round to see a fair-haired woman surveying him with amusement. ‘It wasn't even much of a chat-up line, either. Does he always cut you out like that?'

Oliver is aware of a very odd sensation; as if everything – the world, time, sound – has briefly stopped and now jolts on again but in an entirely different way. Nothing will ever be quite the same again. He shrugs, pretending resignation.

‘Story of my life,' he says. ‘Are you Sophie?'

She nods. ‘And you're Oliver. Jess has told me about you, and Johnnie thinks we must have met in the distant past. And that must be Guy. Where d'you think he's taking her?'

‘It'll be the boats,' says Oliver. ‘My brother-in-law is a single-minded fellow. I apologize for him. I don't think he can have seen you there. I didn't either.'

‘That's OK. I can sympathize with that. I'm a sailor myself, and it's spectacular here, isn't it? Come in and have some coffee while he gets it out of his system.'

‘Thanks. Jess said something about having coffee in the sail loft. I don't want to muscle in…'

‘When Jess told us you were coming Johnnie said to be sure to bring you in,' Sophie says firmly. ‘He's looking forward to meeting you again. He says it's years since he saw you.'

Oliver follows her into the house just as Johnnie appears from another room across the hall. He stretches out a hand in greeting.

‘Oliver,' he says. ‘It's been a long time since we've seen each other but I'd know you anywhere as Cass's son.'

As they all go into the kitchen a bad-tempered little terrier comes stiff-legged from its basket by the Aga, growling at Oliver, and Johnnie says, ‘Oh, shut up, Popps,' and scoops the little dog into his arms. Sophie grins at Oliver and he grins back at her and suddenly he is happier than he has ever been in his life.

He watches her as she makes coffee, liking the line of her jaw and her muscular shapeliness; her skin is still faintly tanned by summer winds and the sun, and her mouth is wide and curling. She smiles now as Jess and Guy come into the kitchen and Popps starts barking. Oliver stands up to make introductions and Guy says, ‘That's a beautiful classic yacht you've got out on the river, sir. Jess says you restored her yourself,' whilst Jess soothes Popps, and again Oliver's eyes meet Sophie's and it's as if they are magically set apart from the talking, laughing group.

He sits down at the table again and looks at Jess, trying to bring her into focus. Johnnie and Guy are deep in conversation about boats and sailing, Sophie is pouring coffee into white china mugs.

‘How are you?' he asks Jess, and now that he is concentrating on her he sees that her eyes are shadowed, thoughtful.

‘OK,' she says. ‘I'm fine,' but she looks away from him, biting her lip, and her hands, partially hidden beneath the table, twist and turn as if she is washing them.

‘Is something wrong?' He keeps his voice low.

She shakes her head but still looks uncertain. ‘I'd like to show you something,' she says. ‘Just you. When we go over to the sail loft.'

‘OK,' he says. ‘When we've had coffee?' and she nods, smiles quickly at Sophie, who is passing coffee to her, and turns to listen to Johnnie, who is now talking about sailing in the Fastnet.

‘I'll just go and check on Rowena,' says Sophie.

When she's gone Oliver relaxes in his seat, taking deep breaths as if he has been running very fast. Slowly the room swings into focus: the terrier back in its basket; Guy's animated expression as he listens to Johnnie; the jar of spindleberries on the table. He is content to be held in this moment, this little space of time, before she returns and something quite new begins.

*   *   *

‘What a place,' murmurs Guy. He stands in the sea garden, staring up at Circe, gazing downriver towards the two great bridges. ‘It's crazy. I spent the first twenty years of my life around Tavistock and I never knew this was here. Well, the Tamar, of course. Pentillie Castle. Cotehele. Morwellam. But I've never sailed here. For some reason I did all my sailing out of Dartmouth.'

It is clear that Johnnie is flattered by Guy's reaction to his home and its surroundings.

‘We could sail tomorrow, if you like,' he offers. ‘Take
Alice
out and make a day of it. The tide's right but we'd need to get off by eight o'clock latest. How would that suit you?'

Oliver almost laughs at Guy's expression: he looks like a five-year-old on Christmas morning.

‘I'd love it,' he says at once. ‘It would be great.'

‘That's settled then,' says Johnnie.

He begins to explain that the sea garden was once a quay, how the old sailing boats and barges used to come right upriver, and Guy listens, fascinated. They wander away towards the boathouse.

So much, thinks Oliver, for getting in touch with Gemma and trying to sort things out.

He wonders what is in Guy's mind: clearly he feels that one more day won't matter; after all, Gemma doesn't know that he's in the country.

‘We email quite a lot,' Gemma said, ‘but he's useless with a mobile. I insist that he has one but he never switches it on. He's a very bad communicator. Thank God Ma got on to Skype when we went out. At least I can sometimes get him on that, and the boys love it, of course.'

He strolls behind Guy and Johnnie, across the lawn, but when Jess and Sophie come out of the house he changes direction and goes to meet them.

‘The boathouse is next on the agenda,' he tells them. ‘Johnnie's invited Guy to go sailing tomorrow.'

‘I wonder which boat he's taking out,' says Sophie, alert at once; keen. ‘We could get hold of old Fred and make a day of it.' She raises her eyebrows at Oliver. ‘I think you said that you're not a sailing man? You don't fancy a day's sailing in the Channel?'

He shakes his head, smiling. ‘Not me, lady. But Guy will be in his element.'

She laughs. ‘A landlubber,' she says.

Another look goes between them, acknowledging this thing that has happened to them, and with it an odd sense of acceptance. There is none of the anxiety or tension or fever that is often present at such moments; just this deep-down happiness. Sophie turns away to follow Guy and Johnnie; Oliver looks at Jess, sensing her relief.

‘Is this a good moment to show me whatever it is you want me to see?'

He follows her up the steps and into the sail loft. Whilst he wanders through the large light room she disappears into her bedroom and presently reappears with a photograph.

‘Lady T showed me this,' she says, holding it out to him. ‘It's got Mike in it. I wondered if you'd recognize anyone else.'

He takes the big black-and-white photograph and studies the young men.

‘Which is Mike?' he asks. ‘Mike's your grandfather, right?'

He notices the faintest of hesitations before she answers.

‘Yes,' she says. ‘That's Mike.'

As she points at one of the young men Oliver gives a cry of recognition. ‘There's Pa,' he says. ‘Look, here. And that's Johnnie beside him, surely. You can see the likeness when you really look. So that's Mike, is it? But I don't recognize the other three. Do you know who they are?'

‘That one,' she says, pointing, ‘is Al.'

‘Who's Al?'

‘Johnnie's older brother. He died in a sailing accident.'

‘Oh, yes, I remember now.' Oliver looks more closely, then shakes his head. ‘Didn't Lady T tell you who they were?'

‘She'd just told me about Al and then she had a really bad angina attack. Sophie thinks she's had a very slight stroke as well. It was really scary.'

‘How awful for you. But look, Johnnie will know who they are. Why not ask him?'

Jess takes the photograph, shakes her head. ‘I don't want to do that. Not just at the moment. It's to do with something she said, and there's another thing as well.'

She stands, indecisive, as if she is wondering whether to confide in him, and then Guy and Johnnie pass by outside the window and there is a little knock at the door. Jess slips away with the photograph and Oliver opens the door.

‘Would Jess mind if Guy has a look?' asks Johnnie. ‘Bit of a cheek with Jess in residence…'

Oliver hesitates, glancing round for Jess.

‘Of course it isn't,' she says from behind him. ‘Come in. It's the most amazing place, Guy.'

Oliver watches as Guy walks the length of the sail loft, exclaiming in delight while Johnnie explains why his grandfather had his sails specially made, and they all go out on to the balcony. Jess glances back at Oliver, gives him a little smiling nod as if to say: ‘All's well, don't worry.' He hesitates but she nods again, more firmly this time, and he turns and goes out; across the lawn to the house, to Sophie.

*   *   *

‘I've taken Popps up to keep Rowena company while she has her lunch,' says Sophie.

Her fine fair hair swings forward as she leans to stir the soup and she tucks it behind her ears. She puts a tray of rolls into the oven and some bowls to warm. A bottle of claret stands warming by the Aga.

‘Is Guy a wine or a beer man?' she asks. ‘I've got some Jail Ale.'

‘Definitely an ale man,' answers Oliver. He pulls out a chair and sits down at the table. ‘I'm driving but I think a glass of wine wouldn't be out of order. This is very kind of you, taking us all in. First Jess and now me and Guy. Especially when you've never met any of us before.'

‘Oh, Johnnie loves having visitors. He's never happier than when the house is bulging at the seams. Rowena's the same, though she can't handle it like she used to.'

‘And you?'

‘Me? Oh, I love it too. And Jess is no trouble at all. It's such a shame that Rowena's been taken ill but she's very anxious that Jess should stay.'

She pours wine into two glasses and passes one to Oliver. He lifts his glass, looking at her, and she looks back at him. Her eyes are the colour of warm clear amber.

‘It seems that Jess has something on her mind,' he says.

‘Yes,' she agrees. ‘I thought that it was you.'

‘Me?' he says, startled.

Sophie's mouth quirks into a little smile. ‘She talks about you rather a lot. And when we were planning the reunion supper she asked if you could be invited.'

He is silent, thinking quickly: it is crucial that there should be no misunderstandings here.

‘She's Kate's protégée. You know, winning the David Porteous Award and so on. I think Jess was rather taken by the idea of coming down to the West Country to find her roots but a bit daunted by the age gap when she arrived. I'm quite a bit older than she is, but even so I think she was relieved to meet someone who was younger than her old granny. More like an uncle, wouldn't you say? I felt it was my duty to rescue her.'

Sophie laughs. ‘How noble of you.'

‘Oh, I'm all heart that isn't armpit.'

‘And, of course, it doesn't hurt that she's extremely attractive.'

‘That was a bonus,' he says blandly. ‘Do we have to keep talking about Jess?'

‘You started it,' she reminds him. ‘What would you like to talk about?'

‘Your mobile telephone number, for a start, before everyone comes back,' he says, ‘and then about a good place to have dinner.'

*   *   *

‘I'll drive myself over tomorrow morning,' says Guy. ‘Johnnie's invited me to breakfast so that we can go down with the tide.'

Driving carefully in the narrow lanes, Oliver thinks about this. It's been discussed at lunch and finally decided that Jess will join Guy and Johnnie whilst Sophie stays to keep an eye on Lady T.

‘I can go sailing any time,' Sophie said. ‘You'd like to go, wouldn't you, Jess?' And Jess nodded and said that she'd like to go with Guy and Johnnie if Sophie really didn't mind.

Thinking about it, Oliver suspects that Jess doesn't want to be left alone with Lady T and that it has something to do with the photograph, but he can't think what it might be. He wasn't able to talk to her again except for a few words after lunch.

‘You can come back to Chapel Street any time you like,' he told her quietly. ‘Don't be put off because Guy's here for a few days.'

‘I'm fine,' she said. ‘Really. I want to be here for a bit longer.'

‘If you're sure.'

She sensed his anxiety and smiled at him. ‘Really, I'm OK. And don't mention the photograph to anyone, will you? It's just a private thing.'

‘If you say so.'

‘Honestly. I promise I'll phone you if I have a problem or need to talk.'

‘OK then,' he said.

Later, Sophie said, ‘Why not come and have lunch with me since they'll be away all day? Come early,' and he agreed with deep secret pleasure.

Now, he glances sideways briefly at Guy. ‘So are you planning to see Gemma at all?' he asks lightly.