The Emerald Valley (64 page)

‘Oh dear!' he said solemnly.

‘Well, I wasn't to know, was I?' she flared. ‘I didn't see it until it was too late and I was in it by then. Oh Ralph, whatever am I going to do?'

‘There's not a great deal you can do tonight,' he replied.

‘What do you mean? I can't leave it there!'

‘Where is it, then?'

‘Right on the bridge. Over there!'

‘Wait a minute.' He pulled his own car to the side of the road and got out, turning up his collar and walking towards the bridge. Amy followed him.

‘It stopped and I couldn't get it to go again. Do you think you could … ?'

‘Not a chance.' He had a flashlight in his hand. Its powerful beam picked up the Model T sitting squarely on the bridge that was beginning to look like an extension of the river itself. ‘It will take a tractor to get that out.'

‘But where could I get a tractor at this time of night?'

He was paddling around, weighing up the situation.

‘The only thing would be to push it back into the yard. How strong are you feeling?'

‘Oh … oh, I don't know …'

‘It's on the flat,' he said.

‘But push it back – couldn't we push it
out?
‘

‘No point. The engine will be thoroughly wet by now and it will have to dry out before you can start it again – even if you had a hill to run down, which you don't. And the road's already partially flooded along by the mill, anyway.'

‘But you think we could push it back?'

‘We might be able to. Come on, we'll try.'

Back into the swirling water again and Amy grimaced as it squelched into her boots, but said nothing, aware that Ralph would only greet her grumbles with scorn.

‘Hmm. You are well and truly afloat, aren't you?' he said drily. ‘Let the hand-brake off and put it out of gear.'

‘I know!' she retorted.

In the darkness they heaved together. Water sloshed into the top of Amy's boots, but now she was no longer alone it did not seem so bad. Eventually they had the car off the bridge and with Amy leaning through the driver's door to steer, they got it back into the yard and then pushed it as far as they were able towards the higher ground.

‘That's about as far as we can go,'. Ralph said.

‘Will the water reach it there?' Amy asked breathlessly.

‘I don't know; depends how much the river rises. But we can't get it any higher. And I think the rain's easing off now.'

It did seem that it was not pouring down quite so hard.

‘Come on, I'll take you home,' Ralph offered.

‘Oh no, I couldn't bother you …'

‘No bother, you're wet through.'

‘I shall be all right.'

‘I've heard that before. Do as you're told for once!'

Warmth spread through her, dispelling the cold. She went with him and when they reached the deep water on the bridge he turned to her. ‘Come on, I'll carry you through.'

Before she could protest that a little more water in her boots would hardly make any difference, he had swung her up as if she were a child. One arm was beneath her knees, the other hard and strong around her back, and beneath her cheek the leather of his jacket was wet, cold and shiny. She relaxed against him, revelling in the contact and in the feeling of being completely within his power, yet at the same time cared for, cherished.

Beyond the water he paused for a moment, still holding her. He had left on her car lights and they illuminated a section of his face – the strong lines, the deep shadows, the mouth hard yet oddly sensual. Something twisted deep within her, turning her stomach to water, and she longed suddenly to have those lips on hers. In that instant, memory reminded her exactly how they would feel … as hard as his arms, yet also tender, drawing her soul out of her body. A small sigh escaped her and she half closed her eyes, waiting for that imagined kiss. Instead, she felt him relaxing his hold on her and setting her down. Disappointment screamed in her, and a sense of loss, but almost instantly she was equally aware of her defences going up. If he should realise what she had been thinking … she'd die! She moved away from him abruptly with a little laugh which came out closer to a snort.

‘Thanks, Sir Walter! It's just as well I haven't had the time to put on too much weight!'

‘I expect I could still manage you,' he said. ‘Now come on, you'd better get home and change out of those wet things.' But there was a sharp edge to his voice and she cringed inwardly again, wondering if he
had
known what she was thinking.

As he drove her home she hunched in her seat, shivering from time to time. He was right – the cold and wet were beginning to get to her. Outside her house he leaned across and opened the door for her but not even his nearness, still intoxicating as it was, could keep her teeth from chattering.

‘Go and have a hot drink or else you will be a candidate for pneumonia.'

‘Oh, I haven't the time to be ill!' she returned tartly. ‘Thanks for the lift, Ralph – and for your help.'

‘Glad to be of assistance.' But again the irony of his tone left her wondering if half the pleasure had come from being proved right. He had not actually said, ‘I told you so', but still …

‘Good night. And thanks again.'

‘Good night. I'll be seeing you.'

Ruby had brought the children round from next door and put them to bed. She was a gem, Amy thought, worth every penny she was paid. Now she was sitting in the kitchen with Huw, who was pointedly ignoring her while chewing his way through a doorstep of bread and cheese she had found for him.

‘Ruby, I'm sorry I'm so late!' Amy went on to explain the reason for her delay, but at the mention of Ralph's name Huw stuffed the last of the bread and cheese into his mouth and slammed out of the room. Amy sighed. Apparently Huw couldn't stand him and Ralph's absence had done nothing to ease that deep but unfounded dislike.

‘I'd better go and change,' she said to Ruby. ‘I wish I could have a hot bath, but I don't think I can be bothered to wait while the water hots up. I'm going to try to have an early night.'

When Ruby had gone, Amy found she hardly knew what to think of first. There were all the worries about the floods and the yard, her waterlogged car and the out-of-order telephone. But somehow all of this was subordinate to thoughts of Ralph. And when all her jobs were out of the way and she crawled gratefully into bed with the luxury of her stone hot-water-bottle – in use for the first time that autumn – it was the things he had said which kept popping into her mind.

So many of his comments could be imbued with hidden meaning if you scratched the surface – the suggestion of starting a Gloucester depot, the faintly ironic ‘Glad to be of assistance', even, his parting comment: ‘I'll be seeing you'. But then again it might mean nothing. That was the trouble with Ralph, you never could tell.

It's only wishful thinking on my part, that's all, she told herself. But nevertheless the tiny flame of excitement was sparking deep within her and when she fell asleep, her body curled around the stone curve of the bottle, it was as if she was feeling his arms around her once more, strong and infinitely tender … and as she fell asleep, her lips parted on the pillow in a long, imagined kiss.

Next morning Amy sang as she sorted clean clothes for the children and prepared their breakfast.

I must be crazy, she thought. I have to face a day with all sorts of problems and yet I'm happy. And she knew it was because of Ralph, her hopes for what might yet be resurrected between them and perhaps the half-remembered dreams of the night, too.

With Huw and Barbara despatched to school and Maureen safely installed with Ruby, she set out to walk to the yard. The rain had stopped at last, though the sky still looked heavy and the winds had brought down many of the leaves prematurely from the trees so that they lay in sad, sodden drifts on the saturated ground.

As she reached the top of Porter's Hill she slowed her step, wondering if she should walk down past Ralph's house. Driving, she never went that way – his scathing comments so long ago about it being a private road still rankled. But walking … it was so much quicker, and besides …

Admit it – that's just an excuse! she told herself. You're hoping you might see him!

Her breath came a little unevenly as she walked down the hill, looking at the house while trying not to make this obvious. But there were no signs of life and, a little disappointed, she turned her back on it and continued walking along the lane towards the yard.

As it came in sight, she strained her eyes to see what sort of state things were in. The road above the yard certainly wasn't flooded – though she could remember times when it had been under water – and as the yard itself came fully into view she heaved a sigh of relief. Once the rain had stopped the river must have started going down, and though streams still gushed down out of the sloping fields above, running broad rivulets across the road, there were only puddles and patches of thick sludge to show for the muddy water which had risen the previous night.

Her car and one lorry were well above what had been the tide-line; the other lorries were not to be seen – clearly the river bridge was now passable and they had already left for their day's work.

As she unlocked her office, Herbie emerged from the new spares shed.

‘Good morning, Herbie.' There was a lift in her voice. ‘Come in and we'll have a cup of tea.'

He followed her, wiping his hands on the piece of rag which usually hung out of the back pocket of his overalls.

‘What a night! We were lucky not to get flooded out. Looks as if the water came into the yard,' he remarked.

‘It did.' She put on the kettle before unbuttoning her coat and sitting down. ‘You noticed I had to leave my car here last night? The bridge was flooded and I very nearly got stuck …'

She went on to relate what had happened and Herbie listened, shaking his head sorrowfully.

‘I'm sorry, missus. If I had known what was going to happen, I'd have stayed on. But I didn't think you would be late like that.'

‘It was my own fault, Herbie. And anyway, Ralph Porter helped me.'

‘Hmm.' Herbie's look said if anyone had to help her, it ought to have been him. ‘So he's home again, then?'

‘Only until today.'

She was about to tell him about the possible new contracts when he went on, ‘I thought I saw him yesterday, driving up the hill. Came to take his young lady to meet his sister, I shouldn't wonder.'

A nerve jarred warningly through her. ‘His young lady?'

‘Well, he had someone in the car with him. Very posh she was, too – just the type you'd expect him to go for. Wearing one of them new-fangled hats – you know, a bit like a turban, I always think.' (Herbie had once served with the army in India.) ‘But on her I must say it looked good, though she had too much paint and muck on her face.'

‘His young lady! You shouldn't jump to conclusions, Herbie. He could have been just giving someone a lift. After all,
I
was in his car last night …' Amy said brightly, though a hollow was beginning to open up inside her and she knew she was grasping at straws.

Herbie, quite oblivious of the effect his words were having, shook his head.

‘I wouldn't have thought you'd see the likes of her in Hillsbridge if weren't for somebody like him. And my missus was only telling me t'other day that she'd heard he might be getting married soon. That housekeeper of his had told her sister. Now that would be a turn-up for the books, wouldn't it? What with him seeming like a confirmed bachelor.'

Amy said nothing. The joy was seeping out of her with every word he spoke. It was only gossip of course, gleaned third-hand, plus a glimpse of a glamorous woman in Ralph's car, but still …

Why should I imagine he has been leading a celibate life in Gloucester? Amy thought miserably. He's a very eligible man and he can't occupy all his time with business.

‘Now, missus, the lorry for Harfords got off all right …' Herbie turned the talk to the subject he was most comfortable discussing and with an effort, Amy followed him. But when all the day's business had been ironed out and Herbie had gone back to his work, she found herself still thinking of Ralph with a sinking heart.

Yesterday, seen through rose-coloured spectacles, the encounter had seemed laden with promise. Now it was the negative aspects which loomed large – the coolness between them when he had first arrived, the alacrity with which he had put her down after he had carried her through the water, the businesslike way he had discussed the possible new contracts …

Amy closed her eyes, biting hard on her knuckles.

I don't want to do it, she thought. If I quote for those runs to Gloucester and get the work, it will mean seeing more of him, talking to him on the telephone … and I don't want to. When there had been the chance of resurrecting their relationship she had welcomed the prospect, but if Ralph had a sweetheart – or even wife! – the contact would be torture.

But it's business and you have to do it! she told herself. And answered as much with her head as with her heart: But if every time you have to speak to him it upsets you this much it's just not worth it. You'll be snappy with other customers, careless about details and the rest of the contracts will suffer.

Without stopping to think about it any more, she reached for the telephone and asked for Ralph's local number. Milsom answered, telling her that he had already left for Gloucester. But when she rang there she was informed he had not yet arrived. Taking time off to be with his lady friend, perhaps? Firmly Amy pushed that thought aside. At least she did not have to speak to him; she was put through to a clerk and left a message for Mr Porter to say that at present she felt unable to offer a quotation for the long-haul journey. However, she hoped the local contract would continue as before. Then, with a feeling of resignation, she returned to her day's work, but the problems she had hummed over earlier closed in on her now – silly, niggling irritations which combined to produce a nerve-jarring whole. The last straw came when her newest driver returned to confess that he had been pulled in by the police and reprimanded for not having his load properly secured. Amy flew at him, blaming him roundly and dismissing his excuse that when he had left it had been cold and wet and his fingers had been too numb to fix the ropes securely.