Coming Home (79 page)

‘Oh, my darlings, I've been so looking forward to this. So excited, I could hardly eat my lunch…steamed fish and an egg custard, and I long for lamb. Come and give me a kiss. Dear Judith, I haven't seen you for far too long…’

She was thinner. Much thinner. She had lost a lot of weight, so that her face had fallen in on its bones, and her eyes become sunken. But those eyes were as bright as ever, and her cheeks bunched up as though she didn't know how to stop smiling.

Judith stooped to kiss her. She said, ‘I feel guilty, because I haven't brought you a present.’

‘I don't want presents, I just want you. And Edward. Dear boy, how perfectly sweet of you to come. I know perfectly well that on a day like this, you're just dying to go down to the cove and jump into the sea.’

Edward laughed. ‘You've got second sight, Aunt Lavinia, you always did have. But don't worry, that can wait. The others are all heading off as soon as Loveday and Mary Millyway have got the picnic ready, and later on Judith and I will join them.’

‘In that case, I shan't feel selfish. Come and sit down — there's a comfy chair — and tell me everything you've been doing. You know, I always thought being ill would be so boring, but it's not a bit, I've seen more people and old friends lately than I have in years. Some rather gloomy, I must admit, whispering as though I were about to pass on, but most of them just as sociable as ever. I'd forgotten I had so many friends. Now…’ Judith had drawn a chair up to the bedside, and Aunt Lavinia reached out for her hand and held it tight. It was an old lady's hand, all bones and knuckles and rings. It felt very precious. ‘How was your holiday in Porthkerris? And who have you got staying at Nancherrow? And tell me all about Athena's young man…’

They stayed for half an hour, the length of time they had been allotted, and for all of it they talked and laughed, and brought Aunt Lavinia up-to-date on every single thing that had happened and was about to happen. They told her about Rupert and about Jeremy and about Gus…

‘Gus. That's your friend, Edward? Your father told me that Loveday has at
last
got stars in her eyes. Isn't life amazing, the way little girls suddenly grow up? I hope she doesn't get bruised. And Diana. My darling Diana. How is she holding up?’

So they told her about Diana, and Aunt Lavinia was much distressed, and had to be reassured. ‘Just tired. She's had so much to do.’

‘It's all my fault. Giving everybody such a fright. She's been a saint, the dear creature, up here every day, making sure everything is running on oiled wheels. Which, of course, it is. And if Jeremy's at Nancherrow, then he'll keep an eye on her.’ She did not ask why Jeremy was at Nancherrow, and, as if by tacit agreement, neither Edward nor Judith told her that he was on embarkation leave. She would only worry about him, start to fret about the sad state of the world. Right now, she could, at least, be spared that.

‘And are you here for the summer?’ she asked Judith.

‘Well, for the time being. Later I'm going to go to Aunt Biddy in Devon. We're going to go to London for a few days to buy me some clothes for Singapore.’

‘Singapore! I'd forgotten you'll be leaving us. When do you sail?’

‘In October.’

‘How long will you stay?’

‘About a year, maybe.’

‘Oh, your mother will be ecstatic! What a reunion you will all have. I am so happy for you, my darling…’

But finally, time was up. Discreetly, Edward glanced at his watch. ‘I think perhaps we should be on our way, Aunt Lavinia…we don't want to tire you out.’

‘You haven't tired me out one little bit. Just made me feel so happy.’

‘Is there anything you want? Is there anything you need fetched, or anything you need done?’

‘No, I have everything.’ And then she remembered, ‘Yes. There is something you can do for me.’

‘What's that?’

Aunt Lavinia let go of Judith's hand (she had been holding it all through their conversation), and turned in her bed to reach for the drawer of her bedside table. The drawer open, she groped inside and withdrew, attached to a crumpled label, a key. She said, ‘The Hut,’ and held it out to Edward. He took it.

‘What about the Hut?’

‘I am the one who takes care of it. I open it regularly and get rid of the cobwebs and the spiders and make sure it is warm and dry. It has been sadly neglected ever since I fell ill. Before you go back to Nancherrow, will you and Judith go and check and be certain that everything is all right? I am so afraid that some of the older boys in the village might come nosing around or do some sort of damage. Not maliciously, of course, just high spirits. Such a weight off my mind if you'd make certain that all is well. It's such a precious place, I would hate to lie here and think of it being unloved.’

Edward, standing, laughed. ‘Aunt Lavinia, you're a constant surprise to me. The last thing you need to worry about is the Hut.’

‘But I do. It's important to me.’

‘In that case, I promise Judith and I will go and open all the doors and windows and if there is so much as a mouse or a beetle, we will send it on its way.’

‘I knew,’ said Aunt Lavinia, ‘that you of all people would understand.’

Outside, the old-fashioned garden slumbered, scented, in the warm Sunday afternoon. Edward led the way along the path, through the rose garden, and down the flight of stone steps that led into the orchard. Here the grass had been scythed and raked into little haystacks, and on the trees the fruit had formed, and was beginning to drop, to lie, rotting and juicy, circled by wasps. The air smelt faintly of cider.

‘Does the fruit get picked?’ Judith asked.

‘Yes. But the trouble is, the gardener's getting a bit beyond it…growing old, along with Aunt Lavinia and Isobel. He'll need someone to give him a hand if the apples are to be picked and stored for the winter. I'll have a word with Pops. Maybe Walter Mudge or one of the younger boys could come up one day and do the ladder-climbing.’

He went ahead of her, ducking beneath the trailing branches that drooped, heavy with russet fruit. Overhead, in some tree, the blackbird was singing. The Hut, tucked into its sheltered, bosky corner, basked in sunshine. Edward went up the steps, fitted the key in the lock, and opened the door. He stepped inside. Judith followed him.

They stood, very close, in the small space between the two bunks. It still smelt pleasantly of creosote, but was hot and airless, musty with imprisoned heat. A huge bluebottle buzzed around the hurricane lamp that hung from the centre beam, and in a corner was draped an enormous cobweb studded with dead flies.

Edward said, ‘Yuk,’ and went to open the windows, all of which had warped a bit, and needed some muscular persuasion. The bluebottle buzzed away into the open air.

Judith said, ‘What do we do about the cobweb?’

‘Remove it.’

‘What with?’

He delved into the bottom of the orange-box cupboard and came up with a small brush and a battered old dustpan. ‘Every now and again,’ he told her, ‘we had to sweep the floor.’ And she watched, her nose wrinkled in disgust, while he neatly dealt with the cobweb and its gruesome victims, disposed of all in the dustpan, and then went out of the door and shook the contents out onto the grass. Returning, ‘What else?’ he asked her.

‘I think that's all. No sign of mice. No bird's nests. No holes in the blankets. Perhaps the windows need cleaning.’

‘That'll be a nice job for you, one day when you've nothing better to do.’ He stowed the dustpan and brush back in their makeshift cupboard and then settled himself on the edge of one of the bunks. ‘You can play houses.’

‘Is that what you used to do?’ She sat too, on the other bunk facing him across the narrow space. It was a bit like having a conversation in the cabin of a boat, or a third-class railway compartment. ‘Here, I mean.’

‘Nothing so feeble. It was the real stuff, camp-fires and all. Peeling potatoes and cooking the most disgusting meals which, for some reason, always tasted sublime. Sausages and lamb chops and fresh mackerel if we'd been fishing. But we were useless cooks. We never got it right, everything was always either raw or burnt black.’

‘What else did you do?’

‘Nothing much. Innocent fun. The best was sleeping in the darkness with the doors and windows open and listening to the sounds of the night. Sometimes it got bloody cold. One night, there was a thunderstorm…’

He was so close, she could have reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. His skin was smooth and coppery, his arms downed with fine golden hair, his eyes the same blue as his cotton shirt, the lock of fair hair flopped across his forehead. She sat hugging herself, saying nothing, relishing his beauty, listening to his voice.

‘…lightning split the sky. There was a ship wrecked that night, off Land's End, and we saw the flares bursting in the sky and thought we were seeing comets…’

‘How strange…’

Their eyes met. He said, ‘Dear Judith. You've become so lovely. Did you know that? And I did miss you.’

‘Oh, Edward…’

‘I wouldn't say so if I didn't mean it. And I find it particularly nice, just sitting here, together, un-surrounded by hordes of other people.’

She said, ‘I have something to tell you.’

His expression, subtly, altered. ‘Important?’

‘I think it is, to me.’

‘What is it?’

‘Well…it's about Billy Fawcett.’

‘The old goat. Don't say he's raised his head again.’

‘No. He's gone. Gone for good.’

‘Elucidate.’

‘You were right. You said I needed a catalyst, and it happened. It changed everything.’

‘Tell me.’

So she told him. About Ellie and her horrid experience in the cinema. About Ellie's tearful confession to the Warrens and Judith. About Mr Warren's rage, and their subsequent visit to the police station to make the formal charge against Billy Fawcett of indecent behaviour and harassment of a junior. ‘It all took ages. The wheels of officialdom grind very slowly. But it was done.’

‘Good for you. And about time too, the rotten old bugger. What'll happen?’

‘I suppose the case will come up at the next Quarterly Assizes in Bodmin…’

‘Meantime, he's stewing with apprehension. That alone should keep his hands off little girls.’

‘It made me feel very strong, Edward. Very positive. Not afraid any more.’

He smiled. ‘In that case…’ He put out his hands and laid them on her shoulders and leaned forward across the little space that lay between them, and kissed her mouth. A gentle kiss that swiftly became passionate, but this time she neither drew away nor rejected him, because to let him have his way was all she wanted, and as she opened her mouth to him, it felt as though an electric current streamed into every nerve end she possessed, and her entire body seemed to leap into life.

He stood, and put his arms around her, and lifted her, and laid her down on the bunk where she had been sitting. He sat at her side and arranged cushions behind her head, and stroked her hair away from her face, and then, gently, began to undo the small pearl buttons which fastened the front of her cotton dress.

‘Edward…’ Her voice was no more than a whisper.

‘Loving doesn't stop here. This is just the beginning of loving…’

‘I've never…’

‘No, I know you haven't. But I have. I have been before, and I shall show you the way.’ He gently pushed her dress down from her shoulders, and then the white satin straps of her bra, and she could feel the cool air on her naked breasts and he put his head down and buried his face in the smooth skin that lay between them. And she wasn't frightened in the very least, just peaceful and excited all at the same time, and she took his head between her hands and gazed up into his face. ‘I love you, Edward. I want you to know that
now
…’ And after that there was neither time, nor opportunity, nor need to say anything more.