A Pearl for Love (7 page)

‘
Do you like being a jeweller
?’
she asked suddenly, and he relaxed.

‘
Love it,
’
he told her briefly.
‘
I
’
ve always been interested in clocks and watches ever since my grandfather used to hold his big hunter watch to my ear to listen to the ticking. Then I often watched my father taking a clock to pieces for mending
...’
He broke off abruptly, and she saw the dark look coming back over his face. It was some years now since his father had died. Perhaps he had been at a difficult age for a boy to lose someone he loved.

Catherine felt her heart soften towards this dark man who, she felt now, was hiding some sort of unrest or unhappiness. She had fellow feeling for him, having felt the same empty loss herself. Perhaps Elizabeth could give him her love, but be unable to give him complete understanding over this. As yet she had been untouched by unhappiness of this sort, being a treasured member of a loving family.

Catherine put her fingers light on his arm.

‘
You must miss him
,’
she said softly, and was unaware of her own beauty, her face soft with compassion. Michael stared at her, and in that moment Elizabeth and John walked in, followed by Uncle James and Lucille.

The spell was broken, though for some reason Catherine felt oddly shaken and could only be aware of the magnetic quality of Michael
’
s eyes as they held hers.

Then, as though douched with cold water, she became aware of Elizabeth and John both staring at her, and she felt chastened. Surely Elizabeth could not imagine that she had been trying to
...
to catch Michael
’
s interest. Or John either.

She sat back, confused, and was glad when the two older people started a new conversation, and she only need sit and listen. Elizabeth needn
’
t be jealous, she wanted to assure her. She could never attract Michael Rodgers while Elizabeth was around, and anyway, she wouldn
’
t dream of such a thing. She wasn
’
t the sort of girl to go round stealing other people
’
s boy-friends. Her heart had been given to Philip Neill.

The memory of Philip was beginning to fade a little. She still loved him, but it was gradually becoming the love of memory. Though she was far from falling in love with anyone else, Catherine assured herself. And certainly not with Michael Rodgers.

CHAPTER IV

On Sunday the cold weather of early spring suddenly vanished, and Catherine woke to warm sunshine and a new surge of life in the loud chorussing of the birds, and the bleating of new lambs in distant fields.

She threw open her bedroom window feeling some of the abundant youthful energy returning to her limbs, after the many weeks of lethargy following her accident.

Today John was taking her to Housesteads, which had been a Roman fort, now being excavated. Catherine had a passion for old ruins of this kind, and liked to allow her imagination to run riot as she looked at ancient buildings, and thought about the sort of people who had built them, and lived in them so long ago.

John had warned her to go warmly clad, in spite of the sunshine, against the winds which blew across the great open spaces. She chose a russet-coloured trouser suit and stout brogues, so that she could cope with any climbing which might have to be done. Then she combed up her long soft dark hair into a topknot, and pinned it securely.

Excitement had brought colour to her cheeks, so that
Mrs.
Bannon smiled on her approvingly when she ran down into the large kitchen where a breakfast table was set in the window.

‘
You
’
re beginning to look a lot better, Miss Catherine. I hope you
’
ve brought down a decent appetite. If so, it
’
s more than can be said for Miss Elizabeth, who only wants a cup of coffee, and her thin enough already, goodness knows.
’

Elizabeth looked up rather tiredly.

‘
Hello, Kate. Full of the joys of the morning,
I see.
’

Catherine coloured at the edge in the other girl
’
s voice.

‘
John
...
John said he
’
d take me to Housesteads,
’
she said, stammering a little.

‘
Oh, I see.
’
Elizabeth pursed her lips, then she smiled a little.
‘
Enjoy yourselves,
’
she said, quite kindly.

‘
It should be nice, though
...’
Catherine looked round.
‘
I hope John hasn
’
t forgotten. Maybe he doesn
’
t really want to go today.
’

‘
Who could forget an important date like that
?’
asked John, appearing at the kitchen door.

He, too, was clad in corduroy jeans and a warm pullover, and he carried a brown anorak over his arm, draping it carelessly over a chair.

‘
Hello, Kate. You look well. I hope you
’
ve stoked up with breakfast. It
’
s a lovely day, but just wait till the chilly winds off the hills and moors get hold of you. You
’
ll be glad you ate your porridge then.
’

‘
Well, you eat yours,
Mr.
John,
’
said
Mrs.
Bannon, behind him, as she set down a large bowl of steaming
porridge.

‘
Ugh!
’
said Elizabeth.

‘
Stop wrinkling your nose,
’
John advised.
‘
You
’
ll get crows
’
feet.
’

‘
That
’
s on eyes, silly!
’

Catherine sat smiling, amused. She often enjoyed the exchange between brother and sister. It was rare for them to have a serious argument, and she often thought how lucky Elizabeth was to have a brother. What a difference it might have made in her own life if only she
’
d had someone like John. She smiled at him, her eyes soft, and he turned away from her rather abruptly. Then he settled down to eat his breakfast, insisting that Catherine should drink one more cup of coffee. Elizabeth refused anything more, saying she hadn
’
t time.

‘
Where are you off to?
’
asked John.

‘
Michael and I have a date,
’
she said flatly.

‘
And we must keep our noses out of it.
’

‘
Yes.
’
For a moment Elizabeth hesitated.
‘
Oh,
all right. We
’
re just going to look at some new houses being put up in rather a nice district. I was just thinking it was time we fixed a date for the wedding.
’

She looked almost defiantly at Catherine, who again felt slightly chilled as she sensed hostility.

‘
I hope you find something suitable,
’
she said in a low voice.

‘
I
’
ve no doubt we shall.
’

‘
Find what?
’
asked her mother, padding into the kitchen in pretty bedroom slippers while Uncle James brought up the rear.

‘
A house, darling
,’
said Elizabeth.
‘
Somewhere to live. For Michael and me.
’

‘
Michael and
I,’
said John.

‘
Michael and
me,
’
corrected Elizabeth.
‘
Your grammar
’
s worse than mine.
’

‘
Are we arranging the wedding soon, then, dear?
’
asked Lucille.
‘
It
’
s about time. You
’
re beginning to look like an old married couple already.
’

The words had been teasingly spoken and not intended to hurt, but Catherine caught sight of a flash of pain on Elizabeth
’
s face. Maybe Aunt Lucille had touched a tender spot. She felt a sudden rush of feeling for the other girl, and touched her arm as they made for the door.

‘
Have a lovely day,
’
she said, and was surprised by the sudden glint of tears in Elizabeth
’
s eyes, though she did not reply.

Catherine watched her running upstairs, then John
’
s hand was on her elbow, a picnic hamper in his other hand.

‘
Come on, Kate hinny,
’
he said.
‘
Time we were off.
’

‘
Kate what?
’

He grinned.

‘
Kate, my love,
’
he said, his eyes dancing, and she couldn
’
t stop the colour from again flooding her cheeks.

‘
Stop leg-pulling,
’
she said, a trifle crossly.
‘
Will I need anything else
?’

‘
You
’
re perfect as you are. And who said I was leg-pulling
?’

Catherine began to feel full of well-being as they took the Hexham road out of Newcastle.
John
had decided that they must have a look at the lovely old town on the way to Housesteads.

‘
We
’
ll come back along the Military Road,
’
he told her.
‘
Absolutely straight. If the Romans wanted to go from A to B, they went from A to B, and not via C.
’

‘
Perhaps they had all the lie of the land to choose from,
’
suggested Catherine.
‘
Later people found they had to skirt fields when making roads, or the owner wouldn
’
t like it.
’

‘
And now we
’
re back to Roman days when the owners aren
’
t asked. Or at least, aren
’
t considered to such an extent.
’

‘
I hope you haven
’
t brought your soapbox,
’
said Catherine.
‘
I used to get enough of that from Daddy. He had all his own ideas about everything.
‘
They were silent for a while, as John drove through the sunlit countryside where the faint green of spring was beginning to appear on the trees. It was like the surge of rebirth, and in a small way Catherine could feel it all being reflected in her own heart. She was really feeling alive again, even if it meant flashes of pain as well as happiness.

‘
You miss him a lot,
’
said John.

‘
Yes.
’

‘
Did he confide in you as well as your mother?
’
She felt faintly surprised by the question.

‘
Only about general things. If you mean business, then he kept that part of his life separate. I ... I suppose that
’
s why we felt so lost when he died, though it was Mother who took over. She was splendid, though it almost went for her nerves. She had to go away on holiday after I got engaged to Philip. She saw that I was settled and happy first of all. I ... I can hardly believe it
’
s all gone now.
’

She felt John
’
s firm fingers reaching for her own slender hand, and was comforted. Then he was again concentrating on his driving.

‘
Here
’
s Hexham coming up,
’
he said, after a while.
‘
We
’
ll park the car, then wander about. We can have a look at the ancient Abbey, if you like, one of the oldest in the country.
’

It was relaxing to wander round the lovely old town, John
’
s fingers still linking hers. Then they went into the Abbey where Catherine felt strangely awed, and very conscious of the great age of the place.

‘
It
’
s
awfully
impressive,
’
she said to John, then
shivered a little,
‘
but rather cold.
’

‘
We
’
ll go back to the car and have a cup of Banny
’
s coffee and a sandwich before going on to Housesteads. Will that do?
’

‘
Fine,
’
she laughed. She felt suddenly warmly protected as they hurried back to the car and shared
out the coffee.

‘
I
’
d like to come again another day,
’
she said, looking out at Hexham as they left the old town.

‘
I thought you would,
’
he grinned.
‘
It
’
s the sort of place to which people do come back. Mother was bo
rn
here, of course, and christened in the Abbey.
’

‘
Oh. I didn
’
t know.
’

‘
We used to visit our grandparents quite often, but they
’
re dead now. No one left in Hexham.
’

Catherine was quiet on the way to Housesteads, and against her will her thoughts were turning to Elizabeth and Michael. Were they, even now, deciding on their future home, and would the strange dark moods which seemed to smoulder in Michael be dispelled? Perhaps the happiness of marriage with Elizabeth would chase them away. She could almost feel his magnetic presence, making John a more shadowy figure even though he sat beside her.

Then she gave herself a vigorous mental shake-up. Michael was beginning to disturb her far too much. She must stop thinking about him, even if the thoughts were only curiosity, and a sort of deep interest. It was up to Elizabeth to worry about him, and to ensure that he was happy. It might be dangerous if she started worrying about him.

Dangerous! The word had leapt to her mind, and she drew back, shivering again.

‘
I told you you
’
d feel chilled,
’
said John at her side.
‘
We
’
ll soon be at Housesteads. Wrap that blanket round your knees in the meantime.
’

‘
Thank you, John,
’
she said meekly.

It was exhilarating to walk up the hill to the excavated site of a Roman fort.

John took Catherine into the Museum first of all, and they examined with deep interest all the fragments of Roman pottery and utensils which had been found, then they wandered over the site, trying to imagine what it had been like in Roman times.

‘
Just think they had baths here, and were probably far more advanced in hygiene than some of our more recent ancestors,
’
said Catherine.

‘
Careful
!’
said John, grabbing her arm as she stumbled a little, then hanging on to it as he escorted her up to the Roman Wall.
‘
Want to walk along it for a short distance
?’
he asked, and she nodded.