Coming Home (26 page)

‘You can see, the beach is steep, so that when the flood-tide comes up, the water is twenty feet deep or more, and clear as glass. Good for diving.’ He smiled at her. ‘Can you dive?’

‘Yes. My father taught me, in the pool at the Galle Face Hotel.’

‘You'll have to come in the summer and show off your prowess. It's such a perfect place. This rock is where we have picnics, no fear of the Thermos flasks being washed away by the high tide. And it always seems to be sheltered and more or less out of the wind. Why don't we sit down for a moment?’

Which they did, shifting about a bit to find a bearable perch on the hard rock. And Judith was cold no longer, but warmed by exercise, by the dazzling sunshine striking through her thick sweater, by the easy and undemanding presence of her companion.

She said, ‘I don't know if you know the beach at Penmarron, but it's quite different from this. It's big as a desert, and deserted too, and if you want to get out of the north wind, you have to go up onto the dunes. It's very beautiful, but this is more…’ She searched for the right word.

Jeremy supplied it. ‘Domestic?’

‘Yes, that's just what I mean. I…am glad you brought me to see it. But I hope you don't feel that you had to. I'm very good at doing things on my own.’

‘I'm sure you are. But don't worry. I wanted to come. I always like it here. Refreshment of the soul, perhaps.’ He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, squinting out to sea through his spectacles. ‘Do you see the cormorants on that rock? Sometimes in warm weather, the seals come and bask. The dogs go mad. Don't know what to make of them.’

They fell silent. Judith thought of Loveday and Walter, by now probably cantering over the moors, but the tiny twinge of envy she had known as they set off, looking so competent and dashing, was gone. Better to be here, in this place, and with this nice man. Being with him was almost as good as being on one's own.

After a bit, she said, ‘You know it all so well, here, don't you? I mean Nancherrow. And the Carey-Lewises. As though it were your own home and your own family. And yet it isn't.’

Jeremy leaned back on his elbows.

‘It's a sort of second home. You see, I've been coming here for years. I got to know the Carey-Lewises because of my father being their family doctor, and then, as I grew older, and started playing Rugby and cricket, the Colonel sort of took me under his wing, and gave me every kind of encouragement and support. He's a great
aficionado.
He was always at all my matches, cheering on the home team. And later, he began to ask me to shoot with him, which was immensely kind, because my own father has never had the time to indulge in that sort of sport, and so could never return the Colonel's hospitality.’

‘And the children? I mean, Athena and Edward. Are they your friends too?’

‘They're a good deal younger than me, but yes, they are my friends. When Athena was first going to dances, I used to be given the responsibility of being her partner, not that she ever danced with me, but I was considered reliable enough to take her to the party and bring her home in one piece.’

‘Didn't you mind that she didn't dance with you?’

‘Not particularly. I always knew plenty of other girls.’

‘She's very beautiful, isn't she?’

‘Ravishing. Just like her mother. Men fall about her like ninepins.’

‘And Edward?’

‘Edward I got to know very well, because when I was a medical student I was perpetually short of cash, so the Colonel offered me a holiday job. I suppose, for want of a better word, you'd call it being a tutor. Edward was never particularly academic, and he needed extra coaching to get him through his exams, and finally into Harrow. And I coached him in tennis and cricket, and we used to go over to Penzance and sail with the club there. It was great. So you see, I spent a good deal of time around and about.’

‘I see.’

‘What do you see?’

‘Why you seem to be part of the family.’

‘One becomes absorbed. And you? Had you any idea what to expect when you were invited to Nancherrow for the weekend?’

‘Not really.’

‘The first impression is something of an experience. But I don't think you've been overwhelmed.’

‘No.’ She thought about this. ‘But only because they're all so nice. If they weren't, it would be a bit frightening, because it's all so…rich. I mean, butlers and ponies and nannies and shooting parties. I've never known anyone in England with a butler. In Ceylon it's different because everybody has servants, but most people here just have a cook general. Is…is Colonel Carey-Lewis frightfully rich?’

‘No more so than any other Cornish landowner…’

‘But…’

‘The money is Diana's. She was the only child of an immensely wealthy gentleman called Lord Awliscombe. When he died she was well provided for.’

Diana, it seemed, had been blessed with everything. ‘She must have had a very special fairy godmother. To be so beautiful, and wealthy and charming. Most people would settle for just one of those things. And not just beautiful, but still so young. You can hardly believe she's got grown-up children.’

‘She was only seventeen when she married Edgar.’

‘Edgar. Is that the Colonel's name?’

‘It is. He's much older than Diana, of course, but adored her all her life and finally won her. And it's been a great marriage.’

‘If he loves her so much, doesn't he mind about people like Tommy Mortimer?’

Jeremy laughed. ‘Do you think he should mind?’

She was embarrassed, as though she had sounded like some dreadful prig. ‘No, of course not. It just seems…he seems…’ She floundered. ‘I wondered if he was an actor.’

‘All those expansive gestures and the mellifluous voice? An easy mistake to make. No, he's not an actor. He's a jeweller. His family own Mortimer's, the silversmiths in Regent Street. You know, where people go to buy immensely expensive wedding presents and engagement rings and such. My mother went there once, but just to get her ears pierced. She said she came out feeling like a millionaire.’

‘He's not married? Tommy Mortimer, I mean.’

‘No. His great cry is that he loves only Diana, but I think the truth is that he enjoys being a bachelor and playing the field, and has always been reluctant to give up his freedom. But he is Diana's close friend. He looks after her when she disappears up to London, and he comes down here from time to time when he feels in need of a little relaxation and a spot of fresh air.’

But it was still difficult to understand. ‘Doesn't the Colonel
mind?
’

‘I don't think so. They've worked out their own lives, they each have their own interests. Diana has this little mews house in London, and she needs to escape to the big city from time to time. And Edgar hates London, and only goes there to see his stockbroker, or watch the cricket at Lord's. And he never goes to Diana's house, but stays at his club. He's essentially a countryman. Always has been.
His
life is Nancherrow, and the farm and the estate, and his hunting and his pheasants, and his bit of salmon fishing in Devon. Also, he's a magistrate, and sits on the County Council. A perpetually busy man. Besides, as I've already mentioned, he's a great deal older than Diana. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't keep up with the sort of pleasures that she enjoys.’

‘What are those?’

‘Oh, shopping and bridge, and dining out in London, and going to nightclubs and concerts and the theatre. She took him to a concert once, and he slept most of the way through it. His idea of a good tune is “If You Were the Only Girl in the World”, or “Land of Hope and Glory”.’

Judith laughed. She said, ‘I do like him. He's got such a kind face.’

‘He
is
kind. He's also painfully shy. But you seem to have found plenty to talk about, and broken the ice with him…’

At this juncture, their peaceful interlude was brought abruptly to an end. The dogs, having had enough of the sand and the sea, came in search of them, scrabbling their own way up over the rocks. Tiger was soaking from his second swim, and Pekoe's fur was encrusted with damp sand. Their behaviour seemed to indicate that they were bored with hanging about and wished to continue their walk. At the same time, the sun disappeared behind a large sinister cloud, the sea turned grey, the wind was cold, and clearly the time had come to move on.

They did not return by the way they had come, through the gardens, but rejoined the farm lane and walked on along the coast for a mile or more and then struck inland, up a steep valley tunnelled by wind-stunted oaks, which followed the course of a shallow river. By the time they had reached the head of this, they were just about up onto the moor, but a right-of-way led back towards Nancherrow through pasture fields filled with herds of grazing dairy cattle. Between these fields, instead of gates, were ancient stiles, slabs of granite set across deep ditches. ‘Early British cattle grids,’ Jeremy remarked, leading the way over these obstacles, ‘and a great deal more efficient than gates, because hikers and ramblers can't leave them open.’ Tiger took the stiles as a matter of course, but Pekoe stalled at the first one and had to be carried over them all.

It was nearly five o'clock and the afternoon dying by the time they got back to the house. Clouds, by flow, filled the sky, the sun was gone for good, the light fading.

Judith was tired. As they trudged up the last bit of the drive, ‘Will Loveday be back?’ she asked.

‘Bound to be. Walter wouldn't risk being caught by darkness.’

By now even the dogs were dragging their heels, but they were very nearly home. The trees thinned, the driveway curved, and the house came into sight, with lights shining from windows and the glassed front door. They did not, however, enter through this door, but by the way they had come, around to the back and through the gunroom.

‘House rule,’ Jeremy explained. ‘No dogs in the main part of the house until they've dried off. Otherwise all the sofas and rugs would be in a perpetual state of filth.’ He filled the enamel bowls with fresh water and stood and watched the dogs drink. Finally quenched, they shook themselves and settled gratefully in their baskets.

‘That's it,’ said Jeremy. ‘Let's go and find Mary. She'll be expecting us, with her kettle on the boil. I want to wash my hands. I'll meet you in the nursery.’

Judith went tiredly upstairs to her room. But it was different now. Not new, but familiar. She was returning to Nancherrow, not seeing it for the first time. She was one of the occupants, accepted, and this was
her
room. She pulled off the thick sweater and threw it down on the bed, and went into
her
bathroom to use the scented soap and dry her hands on her own bath towel. Then she brushed her hair, tangled by the wind, and tied it neatly back off her face. Her face in the mirror was rosy with exercise and fresh air. She yawned. It had been a long day, and was not yet over. She turned off the light and went in search of tea.

Jeremy was there before her, already sitting at the tea-table with Mary and Loveday, and buttering himself a hot scone.

‘We didn't know where you'd
gone,
’ Loveday said as Judith joined them. ‘You've been such ages. Mary and I thought we'd have to send out a search party.’ Judith pulled out a chair and joined them. It was bliss to sit down. The fire was blazing, and Mary had drawn the curtains against the darkening evening. ‘Did you love the cove?’

‘It was beautiful.’

‘How do you like your tea?’ Mary asked. ‘Milk and no sugar? You'll need a good strong cup after walking all that way. I've just been telling Jeremy, he had no need to take you all that long way.’

‘I didn't mind. I liked it. Did you have a good ride, Loveday?’

Yes, Loveday had had a perfect afternoon, with plenty of adventure, and Tinkerbell had jumped a four-barred gate, and Ranger had been spooked by an old sack blowing on a thorn hedge, but Walter had been brilliant and managed to control his panic and calm him down again. ‘I really thought we were going to have the most
frightful
disaster.’ And on the top of the moor they had galloped for miles, it had been heaven, and the air so clear they could see forever. And it had all been heaven, absolute heaven, and she couldn't wait to go out with Walter again. ‘It's more fun even than with Pops, because Pops is always so
careful.
’

‘I hope Walter didn't take any risks,’ said Mary sternly.

‘Oh, Mary, you're such a fusser. I'm perfectly able to take care of myself.’

They finally stopped eating and drinking when they were all so filled with hot scones, iced fairy cakes, shortbread, and Marmite sandwiches that they couldn't eat another thing. Jeremy leaned back in his chair and stretched enormously. Judith was fearful that the chair would crack up under his weight. But it didn't. He said, ‘I don't want to, but I'm simply going to have to go, otherwise I shan't be home in time for supper.’

‘How you can think of eating another meal after all those scones, I can't imagine,’ Loveday told him.

‘Speak for yourself.’

He pulled himself to his feet, and as he did so, the door opened and Diana appeared.

‘Well, here you all are, gorging, and how cosy you look.’

‘Have you had your tea, Mrs Carey-Lewis?’

‘Yes, and the Parker-Browns have gone, because they've got some cocktail party they have to attend, and the men have collapsed with newspapers. Jeremy, you look as though you're about to leave us.’