Larkrigg Fell (9 page)

‘Hysterical.’

‘Do you think we should get a plumber to look at the old range, or a chimney sweep for the flue?’

‘Haven’t the faintest idea, darling.’

It took most of the morning to make the kitchen anything like decent. And as she scrubbed and bleached, mopped and scoured, Beth’s usually placid disposition was put under extreme stress, for throughout it all Sarah sat on a chair, feet propped up on the corner of the table, reading a magazine.

‘Will you lift your feet please? Could you move your chair?’ Sarah sighed heavily each time, watching in disbelief as Beth set about rubbing the stove piping with polish and a cloth, bringing out the warm glowing sheen of copper.

‘For goodness sake, you’ll be washing the coal next.’

Beth’s anger bubbled up, hot and unexpected. ‘And are you going to sit there and watch me do it?’

‘You’re the one who wants to play house.’

‘You promised to help.’

‘Stop being such an old woman, Beth.’

‘I will be an old woman by the time I’ve finished if I have to do up this house all by myself.’

‘It was your idea.’

‘You agreed.’

Sarah pulled a wry face in mock innocence. ‘Oh dear, we are in a paddy, aren’t we? Get out of bed the wrong side did we?’

There were times, Beth thought, when she came close to hating her sister. She drew in a slow, steadying breath. ‘I’m simply asking for co-operation. Is that so unreasonable?’

‘Has it upset you because some naked but undoubtedly delicious male bodies have lain in your precious house?’ Sarah pushed back her chair and flounced away, ebony hair crackling with a life of its own, her tone cutting. ‘You’re a sexual cripple, d’you know that? No wonder Jeremy abandoned you. You bored him rigid. He told me so.’

Silence. Thick and painful. ‘Jeremy would never say such a thing.’

‘I assure you he did.’

Beth’s cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Yes you do. You’re far too prissy for your own good. Relax. Enjoy life, as I do.’ Sarah draped herself decorously on a chair, then catching sight of her sister’s face, drained of all colour, she was filled with contrition and ran to fling her arms about her. ‘Oh, take no notice of me. I’m in a foul mood. I really didn’t mean it.’

Beth took a shaky breath. ‘I know you didn’t. Why are we quarrelling, just because of some stupid squatters? We’ll probably never set eyes on them again. I, for one, sincerely hope so.’

A grim laugh from the shadows by the door brought both girls whirling. ‘Because being the landed gentry you object to sharing with the peasants?’

Beth bravely faced the stranger, rather like a small tortoiseshell kitten, hair bristling with fear, prepared to fight tooth and claw to protect her territory. ‘We’re not gentry of any sort, as a matter of fact. Just as this is more of a farm than a grand house. But we do object, very strongly, to having our home invaded without our permission.’ She felt Sarah’s tug at her sleeve but resolutely ignoring her hisses to be silent, ploughed on. ‘I would very much like to know how you got in.’

The man’s eyes slid across to Sarah, roving over her body with audacious boldness. It was as if he had stripped it bare and personally fondled the taut peaks of her breasts, slid his hands into the warmth of her panties. His lips curled into a knowing grin as he watched her aristocratic brow lift with interested disdain. ‘Larder window, as a matter of fact. Loose catch.’

‘And all those bloody weeks begging for a key,’ Sarah drily remarked, giving a spurt of laughter.

‘I shall see that it’s mended forthwith,’ Beth steadfastly informed the stranger. ‘And if you were planning on returning, I’m sorry to disappoint you but this house is occupied and we’d much rather you left. Now.’ The open hunger of his gaze upon Sarah was making her feel quite angry. Beth held open the back door, chin tilted in brave defiance.

The man didn’t move. He simply leaned against the door frame and smiled insolently at her. ‘Would you indeed?’

‘I’m sure you can find another squat somewhere.’ If that is the best you can hope for, her tone implied.

‘Do you intend to see me off the premises with your own fair hands? Or will you set your friend on me instead?’ His eyes, almost black, ran over her with that same all encompassing glance, entirely sensual and provocative, lips curled in suggestive seduction. Beth stifled a shiver while Sarah merely laughed.

He held a string in one hand, the end of which was attached to a decrepit looking black and white dog. The very same who had barked at them through the window. The dog’s presence made Beth hold on to her patience a while longer.

The young man’s face had a craggy, lean and hungry look to it, badly in need of a shave. He wore a printed shirt, dirty waistcoat and tight sailcloth trousers that flared out at the hem over what might have been wooden clogs. A red bandanna circled his forehead and his dark, straggly hair looked in dire need of a good wash. But there was a vital, sexual energy about him that she could tell Sarah found utterly compelling. His potent attraction was a blatant declaration of his success with women which made Beth feel uneasy. She brought her chin up higher, refusing to be bullied, not in her own house.

‘Take no notice of my little sister,’ Sarah said, coming forward, a brilliant smile curving her lips, one hand outstretched. ‘Works too hard. Bit touchy at the moment.’

He ignored the hand, keeping his thumbs hooked into his waistband. ‘Should never do that. Work is bad for you.’

‘I agree.’

A long moment passed while the two openly assessed each other and Beth’s discomfort grew. Then a second young man appeared and she felt her stomach turn right over. For the first time in her life Beth knew what it was to experience desire. It raged through her like a forest fire, leaving her limp.

He was perfectly beautiful, and with a superb body. Like a Michelangelo sculpture. Patrician nose, chiselled features, olive skin and the most heavenly blue eyes. Like cornflowers in a golden meadow, she thought poetically. Every line of his body was perfect from the tips of his black hair curling upon his collar, glossy as a raven’s wing as it shone in a shaft of sunlight, right down to the gleaming leather of his polished boots. He carried about him a serenity and confidence that was quite mesmeric, yet at the same time managed to appear vulnerable and innocent. A writer or artist surely. A sulky angel. Beth gazed upon him entranced, astonished, and helplessly ashamed at the emotions which soared through her.

Sarah was the first to acknowledge his presence. She moved across to him, smiling in that special way she had. Beth saw the heavenly blue eyes quicken with predatory interest and she felt suddenly, desperately sick. Here we go again!

The one with the beard introduced himself as John Reynolds. ‘Most folk call me Jonty,’ he told them.

He sauntered over to the carver chair, stared defiantly at Beth then lounged in it, propping his feet on the corner of the rusty range as Sarah had previously done. Sarah herself seemed content to watch him with smiling curiosity, like a cat.

‘You seem to have made yourself at home,’ Beth remarked, rather acidly.

‘So? We live in your house, eat in your kitchen, swim in your lake. That a problem?’

She wanted to say that it was very much a problem but her tongue seemed somehow stuck to the roof of her mouth as every sense prickled with awareness of the beautiful young man by the door.

Sarah intervened. ‘Of course it isn’t a problem. Where are you heading?’

‘Wherever we fancy. This is Pietro. He doesn’t talk much. Say hello to the pretty ladies.’

All eyes turned to the silent figure who hovered by the door. Except for Beth’s. She simply couldn’t bear to look at him for fear of what he might read in her eyes. The young man inclined his head in a deep bow but said nothing.

‘Pietro? That’s Italian, isn’t it?’ Sarah asked, moving across to him. The young man nodded again.

‘Where did you two meet?’

‘On Paddington station,’ Jonty replied for him. ‘Six months ago. We’ve been hitching ever since.’

‘We see the world,’ Pietro added, breaking his silence at last as his whole body seemed suspended in motion, eyes riveted upon Sarah’s face, then moving uncertainly over to Jonty, as if asking what he should do now. Sarah flickered one humorous eyebrow.

‘Sounds good.’

‘It ees good.’

‘So now you’re here?’

‘Sì.’

‘Why the Lakes?’

‘I have the fancy to see the English Lake District. I hear it ees very beautiful. Magnifico!’

‘Indeed it is, And you must stay as long as you like. Don’t you agree, Beth?’

As Beth failed to answer, an awkward silence fell. After a moment she gathered up the used rags and headed for the door, heart beating like a mad thing. Outside, she lifted the lid of the dustbin and flung the rags inside, slamming it down with a ringing clang. She had a great longing to throw her sister in with them. Sarah’s recklessness was beyond belief. Inviting two perfect strangers, no, far-from-perfect strangers to stay as long as they liked. What was she thinking of? Was she mad? No, sex mad, Beth thought, remembering with a childish display of temper, the exchange of glances.

Well she, for one, meant to ignore them. She would refuse to speak or have anything to do with either of them. They would quickly tire of this silly game they were playing, and leave. Just thinking of the expression in Jonty Reynolds dark eyes made her blood run cold. As for the beautiful Pietro, he was as besotted with her sister as was everyone who had ever set eyes on her. Damn them all.

And I’m jealous, she thought, dismayed to find tears running down her cheeks.

Chapter Six

Beth’s agony was far from over. The next afternoon Sarah decided they should make the most of the good weather and have a picnic. She dispatched Beth to make sandwiches, collect rugs and take them up to the tarn in the yellow mini. Tessa was only too willing to help since she could then meet the naked bodies in the flesh, as it were.

James crawled about the grass, gurgling with delight in between crunching buttercups. The sun sparkled on the tarn, a blue sky streaked with feather duster clouds, a flock of pied wagtails flitting from rock to rock with lively exuberance.

Sarah sat with Jonty on a blanket, feeding him slices of apple. It made Beth shudder to see how his eyes appraised her sister with candid greed, then open his mouth for more fruit, his tongue flicking out to caress her fingertips as he took each morsel from her. Yet she couldn’t tear her eyes from noting every sensual gesture.

Beth was all too aware that she wasn’t the only one fascinated by this erotic ritual. Pietro, his head close to Tessa’s, giggling like children as they watched an army of ants collect crumbs and stagger back with their prize to a nest beneath a large stone, would turn his head from time to time, and gaze longingly in the direction of the absorbed pair. That look somehow pierced Beth to the heart, making her feel more insignificant than ever. And to her utter shame, the jealousy burned all the fiercer.

She felt quite unable to speak to anyone, enduring the picnic with what good grace she could muster, while her mind busily churned over the problem.

How could Sarah cheapen herself in such a way?

They knew nothing about these squatters, nothing at all. Why had they come? How long did they intend to stay? And what would make them leave? No solution presented itself and Beth fell into a deep and uncharacteristic sulk.

What a terrible person I’m becoming, she thought, and sighing, she kicked at a stone, watching glumly as it rolled down the bank to splash into the sparkling waters of the tarn.

Worse, how could she start work on the house, let alone move in, with squatters living on site? She did not relish the idea one bit.

‘Let’s swim,’ Sarah shouted, and in seconds had stripped off her jeans to reveal a blue bikini which left little to the imagination. She plunged in, squealing when the cold water hit her bare stomach. ‘Come on, you softies,’ she yelled, gasping for breath and laughing at the same time. ‘If I can do it, you can.’

‘We haven’t got a dinky little swimsuit,’ Jonty told her, mouth twisting into a wry smile.

Sarah gurgled with delight. ‘What the hell? We’ve already seen most of what you’ve got.’ And laughed all the more at their startled expressions.

The confession was quickly made and Beth was forced to close her eyes as Jonty suddenly stood up, pulled off his T-shirt and dropped his trousers. She could feel her cheeks burning and didn’t dare look until she heard the splash of water. Then her gaze slid to Pietro. Would he do the same? She felt a sad sense of despair at the way his beautiful eyes seemed to darken as he watched her sister and Jonty splash each other.

A moment later he stripped down to a pair of white shorts and ran in to join them. Something inside of Beth lurched with pain.

Tessa picked up James and followed at a more leisurely pace, calling laughingly back to her. ‘Are you coming?’

Beth shook her head.

‘It’s hot. Do you good.’

‘I’m fine.’

Tessa smiled. ‘Suit yourself.’ She touched the baby’s nose gently with her own. ‘Come on, cherub. We’ll have a wee plodge in the shallows, shall we?’