Echoes of the Dance (33 page)

She stood quite still, hands clasped, and now her eyes were full of tears.

‘Silly, isn't it?' he said into the following silence. ‘But there's something very moving about it. I don't quite know how Elgar manages to combine nobility and spirituality in a popular and accessible way but that's how it is for me.'

‘I love it,' she said again, quietly this time. ‘I want to know more about it and I want to listen to it again. I seem to know bits of it.'

‘We'll find out if there's a CD,' he said. ‘I'll telephone Sheila or Nola at Opus first thing in the morning. They'll know.'

‘What's Opus?'

‘A wonderful classical music shop in Exeter. They'll send us anything we need.'

‘I want to know more about the play and the characters. The music has masses of scope.' She hesitated. ‘You don't think Elgar might be a bit old-fashioned?'

‘I seem to remember that Ashton created a ballet to the
Enigma Variations
,' he answered lightly. ‘Isn't this Ashton's centenary year? If Elgar was good enough for him he's good enough for us.'

Daisy grinned at him, confidence restored, and he smiled back at her, full of thankfulness.

‘Go down to the ford and watch the moon rising,' he said. ‘It's a perfect evening, full of magic.'

She went to him and hugged him.

‘Thanks, Roly. Really, really, thanks. Can we listen to it again while we have supper?'

‘As often as you like. You've got twenty minutes. I'll send Bevis down for you when supper's ready.'

When Mim telephoned a few moments after Daisy had disappeared it seemed the most perfect timing.

‘Something good has happened,' Roly told her jubilantly. ‘Things are beginning to move but I don't want to give any secrets away. I expect she'll want to tell you herself.'

‘I expect she will but I want to know what direction she's taking. Don't worry about being disloyal, Roly. You can rely on me to say all the right things when I speak to Daisy.'

‘She did say something about being old-fashioned,' hedged Roly. He could feel Mim willing him to tell her the truth but had misgivings about whether it was his to tell. ‘She was a bit anxious about it. That's probably a clue to the way her mind is working.'

‘It depends whether she's muddling the sense of the word “old-fashioned” with “classical”. Some people might say that
Swan Lake
is old-fashioned but look what Matthew Bourne has done with it. Or what about The Nutcracker? There are often three productions of that in London each Christmas running at the same time. We did a very modern piece for the Charity Matinée last year so I shall be happy with something different. So is that all we know? Come on, Roly. Forewarned is forearmed. If Daisy is going down the wrong path I can let her down more lightly if I'm prepared for it.'

Roly gave in. ‘She's been listening to Elgar's incidental music for
The Starlight Express
. She loves it but she's only heard it right through once. She says she needs to listen to it lots more . . . Are you there, Mim?'

‘Oh, yes.' She gave a little reminiscent chuckle. ‘“The Waltz of the Blue-Eyes Fairy” and the dear old Organ-Grinder. It's years since I heard that music. It was one of Mother's favourites, wasn't it? I remember her dancing, whirling me round in her arms.'

‘That's what made me think about it. But nothing's set in stone yet, I wouldn't want you to think that, and I know Daisy will want to talk it over with you.'

‘Don't panic. It was mean of me to ask you but I've got Jane and Andy breathing down my neck and I thought I'd sound you out. I think it's promising, Roly.'

‘Do you?' For the second time in an hour he felt quite weak with relief. ‘Thank God for that.'

She laughed. ‘Are you feeling like Piggy in the Middle?'

‘Just a tad. But it was wonderful to see her come alive, Mim. She's been so . . . locked up inside herself.'

‘And now she's being unwumbled. It was clever of you to think of
The Starlight Express
. Quite the unwumbler yourself, aren't you? You can take the part of . . . who was he, who came to see the children and sorted everyone out? Cousin somebody or other. You can make your stage debut at last!'

‘Oh, shut up,' he said. ‘Go away! I'm trying to cook supper.'

‘I'll phone in a day or two. No need to say we've talked.'

She rang off and Roly went back to his pots. The dogs lay stretched on the cool slate, eyes unclosing from time to time to see if any morsel should be on offer. Uncle Bernard, curled up comfortably in his drawer, knew that he was perfectly placed to receive a titbit without having to worry about it.

Down by the ford Daisy was sitting on the bridge. The moon was netted and cradled in the branches of the hawthorn and, as she watched, she suddenly saw the evening star glittering below the moon's horn. She was filled with a fizzing, bubbling excitement: rinsed clean of fear and doubt, light-hearted with expectation. Some deep-down instinct assured her that this thing that she sought to create was within her grasp and she welcomed the work that would shape it into a reality.

She gave a startled cry as a cold wet nose thrust in under her arm, nearly knocking her from her perch.

‘Bevis,' she said with relief. She bent to press her cheek against his warm coat. ‘Good boy, then. Is it supper-time?'

As they walked back to the house together she glanced over her shoulder at the star; music was running in her head like wine and, recalling some little bygone rite from childhood, she crossed her fingers and made a wish.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Gemma telephoned Kate late on Saturday morning.

‘A breakthrough! Well, the beginnings of one. Goodness, Kate, it's been really tough.'

It was twelve days since their conversation, during which time there had been no communication from Gemma, and Kate was in that interesting state that combines a sense of anxiety with hurt feelings and irritation. She felt that Gemma could have at least kept in touch, even if there was little or no progress to report, and she'd had to resist the urge to text or telephone by reminding herself that Gemma and Guy were adults and that she had no right to interfere. As the days passed so it became more and more difficult to be natural about telephoning or texting, and every time she rehearsed what she might say it sounded stilted and overmotherly, or as if she was nagging.

Now Gemma's opening remark made her want to be snappish, to say something childish like, ‘Well, what did you expect? Of course it's tough,' and she was obliged to pull herself together.

‘Ah,' she answered, striving to sound non-committal; but Gemma, always her mother's child and true to form, picked up on it at once.

‘Oh, Kate,' she said repentantly, ‘I know I should have been in touch. Don't do that thing of being po-faced. Not on the telephone. Honestly, it's been hell.'

‘Oh, darling, I'm not a bit upset.' Kate unbent at once, reminded, as so often was the case with Gemma, of Cass making similar appeals over the years. ‘I've just been worried about you, that's all. And I've got Roly and Daisy coming to see the cottage and I'm so afraid they won't approve. Crazy, isn't it? Never mind that. Tell me all.'

‘To begin with, your advice was spot on. I stopped crawling and begging for forgiveness and backed right off. It took several days – which was awful, I can tell you – but then Guy began to thaw out a bit. The first sign was when I found a message from him on the answerphone and then a few days after that, when I got back from work, he was here. I reminded him that we were invited to supper with Giles and Tessa the following Friday and he agreed, rather reluctantly, to go. I warned Tessa, in fact I told her the whole truth, and when we got there she and I made sure that Guy and Giles were left together for a bit. The journey over to the cove was rather awful, like sitting in the car with an iceberg, but Tessa and Giles were brilliant. It helped just being with them. They are so easy and happy with each other, none of that Tom Tiddler's ground stuff that I have with Guy, and we just relaxed. Giles is so much more laid-back than Guy, but he's calm and rational too.'

‘Giles was always the peacemaker,' said Kate, when Gemma seemed to have run out of breath. ‘I am so glad that Guy talked to him. He could always make Guy see sense. At least, I imagine that's what happened?'

‘Yes. Yes, we gave them time to talk while we put Henry to bed and by the time we got downstairs Guy was looking much more human. Giles was brilliant. He was making us laugh and keeping the conversation going along so easily; I don't know quite how he did it. He made certain that Guy was having lots to drink and really unwinding, and by the time we came home I could see that it was going to be OK. I drove, and Guy was pretty quiet, but that terrible iciness was gone and . . . well, he stayed last night for the first time since he found out.'

‘Oh, darling, I am so glad.'

‘So am I! Oh God, it's been so awful. He's gone to the office today but he's coming home to lunch and I really think the worst is over. I even managed to touch very slightly on the subject of my being on my own so much. He looked grim but I decided to give it a little try, like you said. He made a couple of sarcastic remarks but I could see he was thinking about it.' A tiny pause. ‘Kate, I'm really, really sorry I haven't been in touch. I've been totally tunnel-visioned, I will admit. You know, pretending to the twins that everything's OK and that Daddy's working away and I'm trying to be jolly so they don't suspect. It's so tiring and I miss him so much. And you were so good about everything . . .'

‘It's fine,' said Kate quickly. ‘Honestly. It's just that I couldn't help worrying but I didn't want to interfere.'

‘I know. It was mean, to dump on you like that and then leave you in the air about what was going on. The point was, nothing much
was
going on. It's different now. When he went off this morning, he said that there were
things to discuss
.'

‘Oh.'

‘Exactly. But I think I can handle it. I feel so much better about everything now. Look, I'd better go but I'll let you know how we go on. Honestly, I will. What's all this about the cottage?'

‘Oh, just that I'm taking Roly and Daisy to see it this afternoon. Your twins weren't terribly impressed so I've got the jitters.'

‘But if
you
love it does it matter what the twins think? Would you like Guy and me to come and see it? I've remembered now; this is where you and the boys lived when they were little, isn't it? Sorry, Kate, I've been so fixated on my own problems I haven't thought about yours.'

‘It doesn't matter at all. Get yourselves sorted out first, that's the important thing. There's no rush for me to be doing anything.'

‘Thanks, Kate. I really mean it. And I'll text or phone.'

‘You do that,' said Kate. ‘Good luck, my darling.'

She put the phone down thoughtfully: the trouble was that it wasn't absolutely true that there was no rush to be doing anything. Earlier that morning Michael Barrett-Thompson had telephoned.

‘The good news is that we've got an offer on your house, Kate. It's a really good one: only a thousand under the asking price. The bad news is that this means it's make-up-your-mind time. It's that first couple who saw it, Mr and Mrs Burns, and they've absolutely set their hearts on it. He's being moved by his company so there's no chain, no problems.'

She'd been unable to speak to begin with; shock, excitement, terror, all seethed inside her.

‘I don't quite know what to say,' she'd managed at last. ‘I'm still dithering about the cottage. I'm taking a very good friend of mine to see it this afternoon.'

‘Yes, I remember now. Jackie said you'd been in for the key. OK. Then the best thing is for me to hang fire with the Burnses over the weekend. After all, I might not have been able to contact you this morning so I think that's fair enough. I shall need to know by Monday, Kate.'

Now, as she waited for Roly and Daisy, she tried to force herself to think clearly, to imagine herself living again at the cottage.

‘Of course I remember it,' Giles had said when she'd phoned him to talk it over. ‘And of course we were happy there. But you need to think forwards as well as backwards. I can understand that the idea of moving to the cottage gives you a sense of security, it's not like going somewhere utterly strange, but it needs to be right for all sorts of reasons. If you can't decide because you're in a muddle emotionally then take a different tack and write down all the pros and cons. It helps to clear the mind. What would David had advised?'

‘I can't seem to think about David,' she'd answered wretchedly.

‘Perhaps you need to do that,' he'd suggested gently, ‘before you go any further?'

Kate glanced at the kitchen clock: Daisy and Roly should be arriving at any moment. Later, once they'd seen the cottage, she would make her decision.