First Friends (48 page)

A few hours later, when he dropped her off at school on his way back to Bristol, Charlotte's cup was running over. He had told her that he wouldn't be down again for several weeks, essays to catch up on, financial pressures, etc., but she didn't mind. She was beginning to form a plan. Why shouldn't she go to Bristol to see him? He'd always suggested that she should, although he hadn't actually mentioned it recently, probably because he felt she couldn't afford it either.

Later still, re-living the hours spent with Hugh, another thought emerged. She would go to Bristol without telling him and take him by surprise. She hugged the idea to her, delighted with it. He would be pleased at her initiative and it would show him that she could look after herself. The other girls in the sixth form were almost frighteningly self-assured. They travelled all over the place and went to parties all on their own and thought nothing of it. Well, she would show them—and Hugh—that she could do it too. She decided to wait until half-term. It would be easier to organise from home.

Hugh had been very popular at Blundells and several girls who were now in the Upper Sixth had had crushes on him. They regarded Charlotte with a certain amount of envy when it appeared that she was, more or less, his regular girlfriend. Hugh—modest young man though he was—had known that Charlotte's stock would increase quite dramatically if she were to be seen as his protégée, as it were. It was to encourage her, to assist her over the first difficult hurdles, that he'd invited her
to the school and let it be known that she was a special friend. It was the best he could do for her, apart from the odd treat when he was down for the weekend. He looked upon her as a younger sister of whom he was very fond and towards whom he felt very protective. Some instinct had led him to keep his growing friendship with Lucinda private and he was relieved now that, since it might very well have queered Charlotte's pitch there, she had never been to Blundells. He was strongly attracted to Lucinda and she to him and he was hoping that, as soon as Charlotte had found her feet, her infatuation for him would die a natural death and they could all get on with their own lives. He considered her preoccupation with her mother's infidelities morbid and had felt that it would be much healthier for her to get away to school and see that she could have a life of her own. It would bring other things into line and give her a sense of proportion. Hugh knew Cass and liked her enormously. He was aware of her great charm and secretly wondered if Charlotte was jealous of her beautiful mother. She certainly adored her father and when, during the holidays, Charlotte had begun to suggest that he, too, might be playing around, Hugh felt that it was time for action and, enlisting the twins, who viewed him with a certain amount of awe, he had set about directing her thoughts in a different channel.

Charlotte was very aware of the envy and interest her friendship with Hugh was causing and revelled in it. The whole class knew that Hugh was down from Bristol for the weekend—some of them had seen her being dropped off—and she had every intention of telling them what a fantastic time she'd had with him. She could already imagine how wonderful it would be if she were able to brag about going to Bristol to visit him.

‘Oh, I'm going up to Bristol at half-term to see Hugh.' She could imagine herself saying it casually to the other girls.

Charlotte began to make plans.

C
ASS SAT AT THE
kitchen table looking at her unopened letters. Gemma had gone off to school with Sophie and Gus lay stretched out by the Aga. The house was full of silence.

Cass drew the letters to her, slit the envelopes and, placing them in a neat pile, opened the top one. The address merely read: At sea.

Dear Cass,

Hope all is well at home. This is just a quickie as I want to catch the chopper. It seems that we'll be in next weekend as the boat has finished work-up and we're ready for the ‘biggy.' Looks as if I might miss Christmas this year. Boring, isn't it? Never mind, it's years since I was at sea for Chrissy, so I can't complain. Anyway, looking forward to the w/e, should be in by Friday lunchtime. I'll cadge a lift out. See you then,

All love as always to you and the kids, Tom xx

PS: Seen anything of old Harriet? Expect she's gone home by now.

Love, T.

Cass smiled at the postscript and opened the second envelope. The address was a Tavistock one and Cass perused it closely.

Dear Cass,

Couldn't get you on the phone so I thought I'd drop you a line to say that I've settled into my temporary new home—address as above. I've almost certainly decided to go into partnership with Michael—the chap you met that weekend—so I'll be looking about for a permanent place as soon as the house in Lee has sold. Love to see you any time, hope you're all OK.

Love, Harriet

PS: I suppose Tom has gone back to sea? Hope for your sake that it's not for too long!

Cass smiled again and reached for the third letter. This had no address at all and was typed.

My dearest darling,

This is breaking all the rules and I rely on you absolutely to destroy it as soon as you've read it. I was truly sorry that I had to cancel our few days away. I don't think you realise how much you mean to me. I've never known anything like this in my life before. I thought I was much too old to feel as I do but I'm like a boy of eighteen. I must see you again soon. Sarah is away next w/e. Please can we go away then? I shall phone you.

There was no signature. Cass's face changed as she read it and she pressed it to her lips. ‘Oh, Nick,' she murmured, ‘oh, my darling.' She read the letter again and then crumpled it into a ball. Almost immediately she straightened it out and read it a third time. ‘Darling,' she said again and, folding the letter into a small square, put it in her pocket. The fourth letter came from Chatham.

My dear Cass,

You're in luck but then you always did have the luck of the devil. The Jacksons—remember them, he was on
Valiant
with Tom?—are going off to Canada on a two-year exchange in a fortnight and their people have let them down, so they're desperate. If you can vouch for this couple they'll let them have the place, of course they may even know them. The name doesn't ring a bell. Are they submariners? Anyway, I'll put their telephone number at the end so you can phone them direct. Must dash to pick Thomas up from school. How's your Thomas and all the Smalls? Not so small now, of course. Terrifying, isn't it? Must get together soon—but how?

All love,
Jenny

The last letter bore the crest of
HMS Drake
in Devonport.

Dear Cass,

I just don't know how to thank you enough. Annie and I were getting quite desperate. She can't stand the thought of a quarter, and hirings and lets are like gold dust. She told me to tell you how grateful she is and that when we've moved in we'll stand you dinner. I've described it to her as best I can from your description—I don't quite understand the secrecy and silence bit—and she says that it will do fine. The village sounds super and, of course, it will be marvellous to be on the Moor. Let us know where we go from here.

Bless you, Cass. Regards to Tom,

Martin

Cass gave a little nod of pleasure and her expression grew thoughtful. She took the small square of paper from her pocket and, unfolding it, read it again.

‘Oh, Nick, darling. I love you,' she murmured. ‘How on earth can I do anything with Tom coming home? And half-term as well. Oh, hell!' Her gaze roamed over the table as if seeking a conclusion and fell on the letters. Well, at least it looked as though several other people's problems were being solved, and putting her letter resolutely away she went into the hall to telephone Jane.

K
ATE SAT IN THE
warm October sunshine, drinking a cup of coffee and worrying about Cass. There was no doubt that she was in a bad way. Kate had never seen her like this before and she was truly anxious for her, much more anxious than she was about Tom. It seemed unlikely that his affair with Harriet would last very long. Already Harriet was in two minds, dithering between Tom and Michael, and it would be quite out of character if Tom were to be regarding the relationship in a
serious light. Kate was well aware that he had enjoyed one or two flings before now, which was all to the good in light of Cass's tendencies, and it was reasonable to assume that he intended Harriet to be no more than a passing fancy. She remembered Tom's attitude towards her when she had left Mark. Several times he had implied that he was available should she need a man, obviously feeling that he would be doing her a favour, implying that she must be pretty desperate now that she was without a man of her own to satisfy her physical needs.

Kate, remembering Cass's voice on the phone earlier, shook her head. It seemed that this Nick had asked her to go away for the weekend and Cass had every intention of going despite the fact that Tom was home for the weekend and Charlotte and Oliver started their half-term two days before it. Kate had begged her to put it out of her mind, to wait for another occasion. But Cass was adamant. Kate's heart ached for her. There was no doubt that she was in love with this man and Kate, remembering only too clearly how she had felt about Alex in those early months, knew that Cass was beyond listening to advice or heeding caution.

‘I don't care if I do get the bullet this time,' she had said. ‘Please, Kate. Don't go on about it. Just tell me you'll have Gus. And the children too if I can't get them farmed out. I think that Tom will go and stay with Harriet. I'm leaving her letter in a very obvious place. I hope he does and then I shan't feel guilty.'

‘Oh, Cass . . . '

‘I know, I know. Don't nag, there's a duck. Oliver's going to my aged aunt. D'you remember her at my old pa's funeral? She's his sister. She was just back from abroad when Daddy died and she took an enormous fancy to Oliver. Says he's just like Daddy when he was young and of course he's an Oliver, too. Anyway, he's going off to her, all being well, and Gemma's staying with Sophie. Charlotte's talking about going up to a school friend in Bristol. Saul doesn't come home ‘til later. The thing is that I want to shut the house up so that Tom has every excuse to go to Harriet. I know it sounds silly but it'll make me feel better about it somehow if he's with her.'

‘It sounds as if you've got everything organised. Where do I come in, apart from having Gus?'

‘Well, with luck you don't. I just need to know that if anything goes wrong with the children's plans I can call on you.'

‘Of course you can. But, honestly, Cass . . . '

‘No, no. It's no good butting, Kate. I'm going and that's all there is to it. I'll let you know if I need you. Bless you.'

Kate sighed and stood her empty coffee cup on the terrace. She remembered how long the holidays had seemed when they kept her from Alex and how she had burned and longed for him. Even now she missed him: missed that feeling of being alive in every nerve, every corpuscle tingling and alert to the loved one's touch. It was like a terrible illness, throwing past and future into dim unimportance, only the fever of this moment mattering, burning one up, so that one was prepared to consign duties, responsibilities, even loved ones, to the flames. The trouble was that it was so often no more than a passing fever and when one recovered it was sometimes too late to regain all that one had lost.

There was simply nothing she could do. Cass did not want the cold hand of common sense laid on the fiery brow of her passion and if she refused to have the children, Cass would merely find someone else—Abby probably—and carry on as before. Kate certainly had no intention of antagonising her. She wanted to be on hand, keeping the lines of communication open, so as to be ready for every eventuality. Perhaps a whole weekend with this Nick might do the trick, get him out of her system. Kate found herself thinking of the General. What would he have advised? She felt that in some way that she was letting him down and despair filled her.

‘Please don't let anything happen to her,' she found herself saying but she did not know to whom she prayed.

C
ASS WENT ABOUT HER
last-minute arrangements methodically, cancelling milk and papers—making it as uncomfortable for Tom as possible—and eating up all the leftovers. She wrote to Saul telling him
that they would be away and phoned Abby to confirm that Gemma would be with them on Friday, coming with Sophie straight from school. Oliver had been collected from Blundells by Aunt Maria's handyman-cum-chauffeur and Kate picked Charlotte up with the twins, dropping her off at the Rectory and collecting Gus at the same time.

Up in her bedroom, Charlotte, in a frenzy of nerves, packed and unpacked several times. Excitement was fast giving way to anxiety and twice she had almost phoned Hugh to tell him of her plans. Each time her hand had dropped away from the receiver and, after a moment, she had returned to her bedroom for another bout of packing.

‘Don't be so wet!' she muttered fiercely to herself. ‘Have the courage of your convictions! Hugh's always telling you to have more initiative. He'll be pleased! Anyway, you don't need his permission or approval to go to Bristol.'

When the round nylon carry-all had finally been filled to her satisfaction she sat down on her bed and drew a guide book to Bristol from her rubbed and shabby leather satchel. She studied it closely, tracing with her finger the roads between the small hotel, the address of which she had located in the back of an AA book, and Hugh's Hall of Residence, only a few minutes' walk away. Both, however, were miles from the station. She'd have to take a taxi.

Charlotte had never been away from home alone before and she felt a twinge of apprehension, quickly suppressed. Luckily her allowance had hardly been touched these past months and there was plenty in her account to cope with a weekend in Bristol.