The Emerald Valley (45 page)

And that Christmas night in 1926 was one of those occasions.

With the soft reflected light making her face glow and the scent of her hair teasing his nostrils, Ted felt the desire strong and urgent within him. He had been aware of it even in the house with all the rest of the family there; every time their eyes met he had wanted to touch her. Now he
was
touching her and still it was not enough.

He moved his hand from her waist to the swell of her breast and she did not move away. Instead she squeezed her hips closer, her mouth seeking his with urgency and fire. He had never met anyone else who could kiss the way she did. There had been many other girls in other places, but none of them had stirred his senses as Rosa could.

Beneath his fingers her breast was firm and full and her legs, masked only by the wispy fabric of her skirt, moved enticingly against him.

‘Hey, you're driving me crazy!' he said softly, wanting to crush her, kiss her, take those voluptuous breasts into his mouth and enter her body with his.

‘Am I?' Her voice was breathless but there was a note of caution too, something that almost might have been fear. It sobered him for a moment and he held her away slightly.

‘What's wrong?'

‘Nothing.' But her tone was guarded.

‘Don't lie, Rosa. Tell me what it is. What are you thinking about?'

For answer she tried to kiss him again, but he evaded her lips.

‘Don't think you can get out of it like that. I want to know!'

She said nothing and he persisted, ‘What is it? You're not usually like this. Is it something I've done?'

After a moment she laughed softly. ‘That's ironic.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Not something you've done, Ted. More something you
haven't.
'

‘Like what?'

‘Like telling me you love me.'

‘Oh, Rosa …' He was beginning to wish he had not started this conversation.

His impatience was a knife in her heart and she cried out, ‘You really don't want to talk about it, do you? I believe it's still Becky Church with you, even after all these years. Do you still use me as a stop-gap, Ted? Do you? Do you still close your eyes and pretend I'm Becky?'

‘Rosa!' he protested, shocked. His desire had gone now and gooseflesh raised on his arms. What was she talking about? He had never pretended she was Becky. But to hear her say so was almost like sacrilege.

‘I suppose you thought I didn't know,' Rosa went on. ‘But it's true, all the same, isn't it? She was the only one for you. I've tried, oh how I've tried to make you forget her, but it's no use. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like this. I was going to be sensible and just ask you … just try to find out … if there was any hope for us. But it hasn't worked out that way.'

He was still stunned by the suddenness of her outburst. ‘I don't know what to say …'

She laughed – a small, bitter sound.

‘No, I don't suppose you do, Ted. I've waited so long for you to find out what to say, but I don't suppose you ever will. Nothing has really changed in all these years, has it? Perhaps we should call it a day …'

Ted experienced something almost like panic. This whole thing was beyond him – what had started as an encounter like all the others had turned somehow into something quite different. Then, as Rosa pulled away from him, he found his voice.

‘Don't go!'

She hesitated, fluttering uncertainly like a bird caught in a snare, and he went on urgently, ‘I don't know what brought this on but you're wrong, Rosa. You're not a substitute for Becky, you never have been. It's true that I did … think a lot of her.' He could not bring himself to use the word ‘love'; it didn't figure very largely in his vocabulary, though he
had
loved Becky with all his being. ‘But that's a long time ago now. And you and me – we've got something special, haven't we?'

‘Have we?' She sounded eager, yet still half-afraid.

‘You know we have. I've always thought we would finish up together.'

Her breath came out on a sigh. ‘You never said so before.'

‘No. Well, perhaps I've been afraid to. I'm such a bad lot, Rosa. You know me, I can't seem to settle anywhere. And I've got nothing to offer.'

‘That's not true,' she said. ‘I think you've got a great deal.'

‘I can't think of a thing. I haven't any money, I haven't got a proper job and I'm not even sure I'd be able to stick one for long. We'd be like a couple of tramps!'

‘I wouldn't care,' she said recklessly. ‘But I can't go on like this, Ted. I have to know one way or the other whether there's any future for us.'

They stood in silence for a moment while from one of the houses the strains of ‘While Shepherds Watched'wafted out on the crisp air. Above the stars were shining, very cold, very bright.

‘Well, supposing I asked you to give me six months to get myself sorted out? Would that be any help?'

‘You mean you want me to go on waiting?'

‘Yes, I suppose that's what I mean. I'm not really sure … And it is a lot to ask … Only one thing I do know … I don't want to lose you. I couldn't marry you at the moment, it wouldn't be fair. But maybe something will turn up …'

It was vague, but her heart soared. He didn't want to lose her; he wanted her to wait. Knowing that was enough. So long as he wanted her to, she would wait for him for ever.

‘All right, Ted,' she said.

And as he took her in his arms again the electric attraction between them sparked and flared once more, blotting out doubts and uncertainties, dissolving fears for the future. For together, the present was all that mattered.

The next day Amy was ready and waiting for Ralph Porter by 2 o'clock.

‘You're going next door for a couple of hours,' she told the girls. ‘Mammy's going out.'

‘Huw! What about Huw?' Barbara clamoured.

‘Huw is a big boy and he is going to stay here.'

‘On his own?'

‘Of course on my own,' said Huw.

‘Me stay too!' Barbara begged.

‘No, Barbara is going next door with Maureen,' Amy insisted.

She was not altogether happy about leaving Huw alone, but there was no alternative. He was much too big to be foisted onto Ruby Clark next door, and she didn't think he would do anything silly while she was out.

‘It won't be for long, anyway,' she told them all.

Huw eyed her suspiciously. ‘Where are you going?'

‘For a ride in a car.'

‘Whose car?'

‘Mr Porter's.' Say it lightly, she told herself. But she didn't fool Huw and his face tightened to a scowl.

‘Why are you going for a ride in
his
car?'

She drew a comb through her curls. ‘You ask too many questions.'

‘He's horrible!' Huw stated.

‘He is not horrible. Just because he was angry with you for sleeping in his coal-house …'

‘He
is
horrible!'

‘Well, I haven't got time to argue,' Amy said. ‘Come on, girls, what toys do you want to take next door with you?'

They sorted some things into their Christmas stockings happily enough and Amy saw them next door. She was still not completely convinced that Ralph Porter would actually turn up – last night now seemed to be a little like a dream. But to her surprise when she peeped out of the window just before 2.30 pm there was his car drawn up at the kerb. And before she had time to put on her coat he was up the path and knocking at the door.

‘Ready, then?'

‘Almost. I didn't know if you really meant it.'

‘Well, of course I meant it! Lucky it's fine though. Have you got a scarf?'

‘Yes.'

‘We may as well go, then.'

‘Right. Bye, Huw! Be good now.'

But she was unhappy about the look in his eyes. It haunted her as she climbed into the Morgan, very aware in the daylight of the amount of leg it was unavoidable to show.

Ralph Porter was a gentleman, however. He was not looking.

‘Your sister and the baby are well, are they?' he asked.

‘Yes.' Amy had now put behind her the twinge of doubt she had experienced when looking at little Noel. ‘It was very nice of you to help us out as you did.'

‘I was pleased to. I had been wondering for a long while how I could get into your good books.'

She looked at him quickly. He was concentrating on the road, not looking at her, but there was a slight twist to his mouth. She blushed scarlet and was glad of the wind whipping roses into her cheeks to disguise it.

‘Where are we going?'

‘Up onto the Mendips, I thought. Does that suit you?'

‘Yes, of course. Fine …'

They had to drive right by Dolly's house and Ralph slowed down.

‘Do you want to go in and see your sister?'

‘No, not today. Not now.' The wind took her words and blew them back at her. Would he think her heartless, not wanting to see Dolly and her new nephew? But this was her treat and she wanted to leave the real world behind for a while.

Through the outskirts of Hillsbridge and neighbouring High Compton they drove, then they were out in the open country. The trees, bare for winter, stretched gnarled brown arms to the sky; hedges and low dry-stone walls divided up a rolling vista of fields. The road ran arrow-straight and Ralph Porter built up speed so that they rocketed along it. Amy had no inclination for talking now – and no breath either. She clutched her hands together in her lap, eyes shining above flushed cheeks, curls whipping from beneath her scarf.

When at last he began to slow down, she was laughing with the tears streaming down her cheeks.

‘How was that?' He was motoring more sedately, looking sideways at her.

‘Lovely! Lovely! Oh, it's such fun …'

‘You should laugh more often, Amy!' The strange note in his voice sobered her and she looked at him quickly, seeing the hard line of his profile etched against the blur of hedges skimming behind it.

‘There isn't always a lot to laugh about,' she said.

He eased the car into the verge and stopped the engine.

‘You're a very unusual woman,' he observed.

‘Me? Why?'

‘I wonder how many would be able to do what you have done? Not many would even try and I expect you encountered a lot of opposition.'

‘Yes, I did,' she admitted.

‘A woman is expected to stay in the home and raise a family, to be looked after by her man.'

‘That's all very well if she's got a man to look after her.'

He smiled wryly. ‘That's your excuse, but frankly I don't think you're the stay-at-home type. Anyway, you have everything well in hand with that business and it seems to be working.'

‘Partly thanks to you,' she said. ‘I value your contract. And by the way, you were right about Ollie Griffin. I've had to tell him to go.'

Ralph's eyebrow went up, but he didn't ask for any details and she was glad. Instead, to her surprise he asked, ‘And what about the boy?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘The lad you have living with you. Why did you take him in?'

For all the talk it had caused in Hillsbridge, not many people had asked her the question straight out and his directness disconcerted her.

‘I felt sorry for him. He had nowhere to go.'

‘But why should you have offered him a home? Surely you had more than enough on your plate already?'

‘He came from the same valley as Llew. His mother was an old friend …' The story concocted, told and retold, had never sounded less convincing.

‘So you took him in?'

‘Yes. I couldn't stand to see him sent to a home. He might have been a young Llew …'

‘Yes,' Ralph's eyes were watchful, ‘he might have been.'

She shivered suddenly, convinced he could see through her.

‘Cold?' he asked.

‘No.'

‘Perhaps we ought to be getting back anyway. It will be dusk soon.'

I don't mind, she wanted to say. These are lovely, stolen hours and I want them to go on for ever.

But she knew she could not do that. Huw was back at the house alone and the girls would be waiting for her to collect them.

‘I suppose you're right,' she said regretfully.

He drove back by a slightly different route. Birds were winging in dark skeins across the leaden sky now and the wind numbed her cheeks and lips. Hillsbridge town was almost deserted and she was glad. Imagine the talk if many people had seen her – ‘Amy Hall out car-riding! Whatever will she do next? Where were her children, I'd like to know? And that boy she took in – funny thing to do, if you ask me …'

But instead of striking a sour note, the thought of the gossip made her giggle. Oh, how they would love to know the truth, all of those women with nothing better to do than speculate! But what was funny about that? She must be intoxicated by the ride – and perhaps a little intoxicated by Ralph Porter too …

He stopped the car, putting his arm along the back of the seat as he had done the previous night, but not touching her.

‘Now that the ice is broken and you don't think me quite such a monster, perhaps you wouldn't turn me down if I were to ask you again to have dinner me with one night?'

She laughed, a little self-consciously.

‘Well, will you?'

‘Yes. All right.'

‘So I have redeemed myself a little,' he said with a twinkle.

‘Yes, but have I? Remember what I did to your car …'

‘That,' he said, ‘is best forgotten.'

He helped her out of the car and she was still laughing as she went up the path. It was true what he had said, she did not laugh enough. But there had been little enough to laugh about in the past months. Now …