Learning to Dance (31 page)

She saw the smile lurking on his face, and said, ‘If I had anything in my hands besides my painting stuff I would now hurl it at you! See you soon!’ And she let the door close sharply behind her and crouched below the level of the combe as she made for their first viewpoint of Lundy.

She worked until the sun clouded over and the wind stiffened her fingers. The clouds were most definitely scudding over her head from the Atlantic rollers. She thought about that word ‘scudding’. It was exactly what clouds did – she must mention it to Paula. The Puffies would know all about
scudding clouds; they became part of the ‘scud’, beating their small wings against it as they dropped into the sea for a mouthful of fish. Slowly she packed her things away and pushed herself upright, ready to leave. And there, waiting for her to finish, was Hausmann.

She was not surprised to see him; something had been missing from the afternoon. She wondered why he was there; how long he had been there; whether she had been talking aloud to herself.

He came closer; he had the hood of his enormous parka over his head, and the wind was flattening one side over his ear and hiding his face.

‘Jack was worried – apparently you never wear your watch – he’s making tea.’

She braced her knee against the rock face and wrestled her canvas bag over her shoulders. Then she smiled at the enigmatic face, so full of secrets.

She said simply, ‘Oh, Robert. What would we have done without you?’

She walked to him, put her head on his chest and wrapped her arms as far around the bulk of him as they would go. He became very still.

She said, ‘I love you too, Robert.’

His arms encircled her; she felt his face against the top of her head, she was inside the hood of his parka; she realized how cold she had become, because she was suddenly so warm, so protected.

She said, ‘I should have said it that day … in the road … I’m sorry.’

His voice was inside her ear. ‘I knew. I knew before we met that night at Castle Dove. You were part of Jack, and Jack loved me. It was logical.’

She moved so that she was speaking into his ear. ‘It took me some time, Robert Hausmann!’

‘Aah. Jude the very obscure.’ She felt his laughter in her own body, and closed her eyes, letting the essence of him flow through her. She took a deep breath, knowing suddenly what she must say.

‘Listen, Robert. I think … I know … what you must do. You must paint all those people. In the camps. The ones who come to you at night and demand recognition.’ She felt his body jerk and held herself to him very tightly. ‘Don’t you dare move away from me! You must do it. Because you will discover other things besides pain. You will discover something else … something good … Robert, listen … please …’

He twisted her suddenly and stopped her words with his mouth. It was scarcely a kiss; it was a protest and an angry protest. When he drew away her whole face felt sore. He held her as if he knew she would fall without him.

She gave a small sob and he began to babble an apology. She slid her hands from his waist to his shoulders and then his neck and face. Slowly she drew him free of his hood and down towards her, and very gently and tenderly she kissed him.

She whispered, ‘Stop apologizing. Remember that the only thing we can share is honesty. And that is because of this love we have. Jack and I love you. And you love Jack and me!’ She snuffled a laugh. Her face was wet, and the tears were not hers. ‘Come on. There’s rain in that wind. We need tea and Welsh cakes.’

He let her push him round, and they both began the descent to the edge of the combe. When they could see the roof of the cottage, he stopped and stared down to the beach
far below them. She saw the hull of his boat pulled up out of reach of the tide.

He said, ‘Jude, I think I should go. Now. Before this wind works itself into the sort of storm we had last month.’

She gave a small cry of protest. ‘Oh, Robert – please! Is this because I said … what I said?’

‘I don’t know. If it is, then it’s not driving me away from you and Jack, it’s urging me to go on. Shine a light into all that darkness? Learn to dance?’ He drew her down into the heather. ‘I have done some work on the Holocaust, Jude. I always end up at some pub, trying to forget it.’

‘Is that how it was that first night at Castle Dove?’

‘Yes. Worse still when I was in Australia.’ He looked sideways at her. His hair, free of the hood, was on end. ‘Then there was Jack. And then there was you. Esmée. Nat. God – Bart and Irena too.’ He snorted a laugh. ‘And then that crazy couple in the orangery.’ He took her hand and gripped it hard. ‘It all meant something, Jude. Are all of us learning to dance? Is that why I’ve come back to the castle and my studio and those drawings?’

He waited for an answer and she said in a small voice, ‘Oh, Robert. I don’t know.’

‘Of course you don’t! And neither do I – and I thought I did, I’ve always thought I knew how to live. The places I must avoid, the people I must stay away from. And then … my God, I sent invitations to Esmée and Nat like some ridiculous matchmaker! And you turned up too! It was frightening. You were so ordinary, so practical, and yet – Jude, that bloody nightie, I have to tell you it was completely see-through!’ She started to laugh. He went on, ‘I never thought you’d manage the Exmoor trek – my famous trek when everyone was so exhausted they would show their true colours!’ He laughed too.

She said, ‘Well, it worked, didn’t it? Robert, none of this means you have to leave now. Surely?’

He shook her hand and let his laughter die into a smile. ‘I haven’t told you. I’ve left Nat and Esmée – or Sybil or whatever she calls herself now – at the castle. They wanted to come, but I talked them out of it.’ His smile widened to a grin. ‘I need to keep an eye on them!’

Judith stared back at him. She said, ‘I can’t keep up with you – you are the most volatile person I have ever met. All I can say is – tea and Welsh cakes are obligatory. How does that sound?’

He pretended to give the question his full consideration. Then he nodded. ‘Perfect,’ he said. And he enveloped her in a bear hug.

It was as if Jack knew what had been said. The tea was made, the Welsh cakes lay in the griddle, and they sat around eating and drinking as if they had the rest of the afternoon and all the evening together. When Robert suggested that the two of them should come with him to help launch the boat, Jack nodded immediately.

‘Changed your mind about the dinner party?’ It was more of a comment than a question.

Robert grinned again; there was an assurance in that grin.

‘Things to do,’ he said.

They trooped down the long combe to the beach. Two fishing boats were arriving, and Robert helped to pull them in and then recruited more help with his bigger boat. Judith and Jack stood back watching as he scrambled into the small well and started the engine, then grabbed the tiller.

Jack said into her ear, ‘I couldn’t have been completely unconscious
the last time I was here – I remember David Davies and Matt lifting me under the canopy.’

‘Oh, my love …’ Judith hugged his arm to her side, reliving her own memories of that time and realizing how close they had come to disaster.

Robert waved and called something, and then the tough little boat got under way and began the short trip to the mainland, and Jack and Judith started the climb back up the combe, pausing now and then to look out to sea and wave. Below them on the beach the fishermen were unloading lobster pots. Above them smoke came from the chimney of the hotel.

Jack said, ‘I think we should go home too. Soon.’

‘Let’s leave it with Matt and Len.’

‘Sounds sensible.’

They paused to get breath. The wind had been minimal on the beach, but already the stronger gusts were bending the trees and the few birds which had ventured from their cliffs were being blown about the sky like rags.

He said, ‘Could be that we have to wait for the weather. A day or two, perhaps. It will give us time to clear up properly. I’ll have a go at some of the wood. There’s a chainsaw in the lean-to.’

She did not ask whether his strength was up to such physical labour. She hugged his arm again. ‘Good thinking. I’ll do a clean-up indoors.’

He put his head against hers. ‘We’re going to be all right, Jude.’ It was a statement, but then he added a question. ‘Aren’t we?’

She answered in her most matter-of-fact voice. ‘I remember, in Paris, your … your sudden diffidence – yes, that is
what it was, diffidence – somehow made me feel very secure, very safe.’ She rubbed her head against his. ‘I feel it now.’

He held her close. She knew he was weeping, just as he had done then.

She kissed him. ‘I love you, Jack. But more than that. We really are two parts of a whole.’

‘Yes.’ He steadied his voice. ‘That’s it. Exactly.’ He kissed her hair. ‘Robert said something similar.’

She nodded. ‘Come on. By the time we’ve washed and changed it will be time to meet the others.’

‘Yes. Pity that Paula won’t meet Robert. There are similarities there. She deals with her demons differently, but she has them.’

They fell into step as they turned on to the track leading to the cottage.

She said, surprised, ‘You think so? We only talk of the book.’

‘Her childhood was cut off when her parents were killed in that air crash. D’you remember? I think it was seventy-three or four. A plane-load of people visiting graves in Germany? Charter flight?’

‘Oh, how awful. She must have been about ten. Oh, Jack, how dreadful.’

‘Yes.’ They went inside the house and shut the door firmly on the wind. Jack kept his back to it as she began to shrug out of her jacket. ‘I wonder whether she will stay on here during the winter? She seems to need the actual place – to live the book, as it were.’

Judith looked at him. ‘Jack …’ She spoke almost warningly.

‘If you think I’m matchmaking you are quite wrong!’ But he was laughing, dropping his coat to the granite floor, taking
her in his arms, swinging her around the table, stumbling against a chair.

The bleep from the phone interrupted them.

It was a text from Toby.

‘Me and Alice getting married next Friday. All welcome.’

They stared at it. Judith felt the outside world suddenly pressing in indefatigably. She stared at the message. The phone vibrated on the table, and it was Matt to tell them that Toby was at last making an honest woman of Alice.

‘Lots to do. Coming over for you tomorrow, weather permitting. Got to juggle itineraries. Typical Toby, yeah?’

Jack said, ‘Yeah.’

Judith waited to feel anxious for all of them. Instead she felt a tiny spurt of sheer excitement. They were all going to a wedding. They would meet Alice, who had obviously been part of them for some time.

Matt rang off, and for a moment they listened to the wind as it whistled down the combe. Jack opened his arms again. ‘May I have this dance, Mrs Freeman?’

She went to him but they did not move for a long time.

The room gradually filled with a sense of peace. And then at last they moved. She thought it was a slow foxtrot.

Susan Sallis
is the author of twenty-seven bestselling novels, many of them set in the West Country. She was born in Gloucestershire and now lives in Somerset with her family.

Also by Susan Sallis

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A SCATTERING OF DAISIES

THE DAFFODILS OF NEWENT

BLUEBELL WINDOWS

ROSEMARY FOR REMEMBRANCE

SUMMER VISITORS

BY SUN AND CANDLELIGHT

AN ORDINARY WOMAN

DAUGHTERS OF THE MOON

SWEETER THAN WINE

WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE

TOUCHED BY ANGELS

CHOICES

COME RAIN OR SHINE

THE KEYS TO THE GARDEN

THE APPLE BARREL

SEA OF DREAMS

TIME OF ARRIVAL

FIVE FARTHINGS

THE PUMPKIN COACH

AFTER MIDNIGHT

NO MAN’S ISLAND

SEARCHING FOR TILLY

RACHEL’S SECRET

THE PATH TO THE LAKE

THE SWEETEST THING

THE PROMISE

THE KISSING GATE

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LEARNING TO DANCE
A BANTAM PRESS BOOK: 9780593072042
Version 1.0 Epub ISBN: 9781448167661

First published in Great Britain
in 2013 by Bantam Press
an imprint of Transworld Publishers

Copyright © Susan Sallis 2013

Susan Sallis has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

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