Read The Swallow and the Hummingbird Online
Authors: Santa Montefiore
Humphrey smoked a cigar and didn’t bother to reply; Antoinette had no interest in what he was reading, only in boasting about herself.
‘I love reading!’ exclaimed Maddie, who had only read at school because she had been forced to. She decided that she would read
Anna Karenina
, whoever she was, because she wanted to be just like her aunt.
‘Good girl, Maddie,’ said Antoinette admiringly. ‘There’s nothing more undesirable than a stupid woman. You catch a man with your beauty but hold him with your mind. Make your mind rich, like mine, and you will marry well,’ she advised. Humphrey rolled his eyes and looked at his watch.
‘Hannah, we really should be getting back,’ he said to his wife, who was sitting with Eddie, browsing through old family photograph albums.
‘Do we have to?’ she protested, enjoying the pictures of her childhood.
‘I really think we should,’ he repeated. ‘Rita, Maddie, we’re going home.’
Hannah recognized the impatience in his voice and dutifully closed the book. She stood up and followed him out into the hall where Megagran was on her hands and knees with Emily and Ruth, playing with the cats.
As Humphrey and his family were on the point of leaving, a loud shriek erupted from the drawing room. ‘Good God, what’s that?’ he exclaimed, marching back into the house. Hannah, Rita and Maddie ran after him for the cry was that of a woman in mortal danger. However, the sight of Antoinette besieged by at least twenty cats was an amusing one for Humphrey and Rita who couldn’t have thought of a more appropriate revenge themselves. ‘Get the buggers off me!’ she cried hysterically. They clawed at her nylons, jumped on her dress and one was astride the crown of her head, pawing her hair into a terrible mess. ‘Mother!’ she wailed, but there was nothing Mrs Megalith could do to stop them. Only Eddie knew why they had set upon her aunt and she wasn’t telling.
‘Eddie,’ demanded her father, trying hard to contain his amusement. ‘What did you do to those cats?’
‘How do you know it was me?’ she asked innocently, hanging up her coat, happy to be home. She wandered over to the kitchen cupboard and opened the biscuit tin.
‘Because of the mischievous look on your face,’ he replied.
‘What did you do?’ asked Rita, wishing that she had thought of it first.
‘I didn’t do anything,’ she protested. ‘How on earth could I control all those cats?’
‘Exactly, the idea is preposterous, Humphrey,’ said Hannah, taking the biscuit tin from her daughter. ‘It’s not tea time yet, dear.’
‘Just one biscuit. I’m hungry. That lamb was disgusting.’
‘Oh, all right,’ she sighed. ‘Just one then.’ Eddie plunged her hand in and drew out three oatmeal biscuits with a large grin.
‘Well, whatever happened to Antoinette, she thoroughly deserved it,’ said Humphrey, taking the papers to the sitting room.
‘I think you’re all horrid to Aunt Antoinette,’ Maddie said sulkily, sticking out her bottom lip. ‘I like her.’
‘We all like her, dear. But she was unkind to Eddie and Rita.’
‘No one likes Harvey!’ Maddie argued to Eddie’s fury.
‘That’s not true, is it Mummy? You like Harvey?’
‘Of course I do. From a distance.’
‘Rita’s just oversensitive,’ Maddie continued. Rita rolled her eyes and followed her father down the corridor and into the sitting room. Maddie stomped upstairs to reapply her lipstick and flick through her magazines. Hannah turned to Eddie.
‘What did you do to those cats?’ she asked in a quiet voice. Eddie narrowed her eyes and made sure that they were alone.
‘All right, I’ll tell you. As long as you don’t sneak to Megagran.’
‘I promise I won’t.’
‘I asked them to.’
Hannah screwed up her nose. ‘You asked them to?’ she repeated incredulously.
‘Yes, I just spoke very clearly to the big black one. I think he’s the king, you see.’
Hannah nodded slowly. ‘I see.’
‘He understood and immediately went to tell the others. Megagran always says that if one bothers to talk to animals telepathically they will understand. I was so cross with Aunt Antoinette, I tried it.’
‘Well, it worked,’ said Hannah, not knowing whether to believe her. She had grown up with a witch for a mother, but she couldn’t quite reconcile herself to the fact that she might have one for a daughter.
‘No one speaks ill of Harvey and gets away with it,’ Eddie added menacingly. Hannah was taken aback, for when she spoke in that tone the colour of her eyes changed, just like Megagran’s.
‘Good God!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve bred a witch!’
Eddie’s face crinkled into a wide smile. ‘I’d love to be a witch then I could fly. Do you have a broomstick?’
‘Not one that flies,’ her mother replied, running a gentle hand down Eddie’s hair.
‘But can I try?’
‘If you want. It’s in the cupboard. Why don’t you see if you can sweep the kitchen at the same time?’
Eddie shook her head and giggled. ‘Nice try. It’s flying or nothing,’ she replied, skipping off to fetch it.
Maddie was irritated by Rita. She moped around like a lovesick puppy, walking up and down the bleak and windy beach, and refusing company. Aunt Antoinette was right. If George really loved her he wouldn’t have left her again, not for a year. She doubted he would return. He would most probably fall in love with someone out there. Latin women were famous for their beauty. Rita was weak. She should have told George to marry her or else. There were plenty of other men around. Maddie could vouch for that.
Maddie was currently sleeping with two different men. One was the son of the local builder, Steve Eastwood. He was strong and muscular with thick blond hair and brown eyes as soft as suede. His hands were rough and calloused but he knew how to caress a woman without scratching her. He spoke with a strong country accent and his smile was wide and confident and deliciously boyish. Maddie enjoyed making love to him. In his arms she felt feminine and vulnerable. The other, Bertie Babbindon, was rich and grand but boring. With sleek black hair and a Jensen he considered himself something of a playboy, sent her flowers, gave her expensive gifts and kissed her like a wet afternoon on the beach.
Maddie had never been in love. She didn’t understand her sister’s pining for George. She only understood lust. Until Harry Weaver arrived in Frognal Point.
‘Who’s Harry Weaver?’ Maddie asked her mother, screwing up her pretty nose. ‘Do we have to stick around for lunch? I was going to spend the day with Bertie.’
Hannah stiffened. She didn’t much like Bertie Babbindon. He was arrogant, selfish and flash at a time when ostentatious wealth was considered tasteless. He had done nothing to help with the war effort, hiding away at the family schloss in Switzerland until it was safely over. He had probably learned German just in case the Allies lost. She looked out of the kitchen window at the thin sprinkling of snow that glittered in the early morning sunlight. A couple of shiny cock pheasants strode across the lawn, scratching the snow with their claws. They had probably flown over from Elvestree where Megagran put corn out for them all winter.
‘I would very much like you all to be here. He’s a charming man and knows no one. He’s bought that dear little white house on Bray Cove.’
‘What does he do?’ asked Maddie. She caught Rita’s eye and pulled a face.
‘He’s a writer.’
‘What’s he had published?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. But he’s a bird-watcher. That’s how I met him.’
‘How boring!’ Maddie sighed. ‘As Aunt Antoinette would say, birds, what’s the point of them?’
‘Is he married?’ Rita asked.
‘Divorced. I just think it would be nice if we adopted him. Poor thing, he’s all alone in the world.’
Maddie slouched in the armchair and sulked. Sundays were just like every other day for her, whereas Rita enjoyed having the day to herself. It had been a couple of weeks since she had lost George’s letter to the sea, since Aunt Antoinette had bullied her, since Max had kissed her on the cheek. She had written a four-page letter to George, telling him about Antoinette and the cats, Eddie’s unnatural interest in witchcraft, her new job at the library in town and her father’s campaign to prevent a site of virgin land, not far from Frognal Point, being destroyed by developers. In her large flowery handwriting she reminded him of the summer, those balmy evenings up on the cliff watching the gulls, and their secret trysts in the cave. She confessed that she missed him more than she could express in words. She adored the pendant and the diamond ring, which she looked at every day, and remembered that he loved her. She would wear both on her wedding day. She had asked to borrow Megagran’s dress, by the way, and her mother was going to take it in for her. Not that it needed much altering – her grandmother had been true to her word – and the dress was so much more beautiful than she had imagined, with embroidered vines and pearls and lace. She sealed the letter with her tears and sent it with love. She hoped it would have the power to keep him faithful.
Bertie’s Jensen arrived at ten, scattering a trio of pigeons fighting over a crust of bread on the gravel. Maddie agreed to go for a drive with him as long as he got her back by lunchtime.
‘Mummy wants me to meet an old bird watcher,’ she explained, rolling her cool blue eyes and flicking her hair off her shoulder. ‘Says he doesn’t know anyone. That’s no surprise; bird watchers are a lonely bunch. He’s a writer, apparently, but has never had anything published so he can’t be very good.’ Bertie was disappointed. He had hoped to take her into Exeter for lunch.
When Harry Weaver arrived at the house in a rusty old banger, Maddie was being kissed and pawed by Bertie in the back of his Jensen in a lay-by five miles outside Frognal Point. Hannah was furious. At least Rita and Eddie hadn’t let her down. Humphrey shook Harry’s hand firmly as if he were an old friend. Harry had that effect on people. He was woolly, affable and ungainly with an easy, natural charm. He smiled and his rugged face folded into lines and creases. He looked weather-beaten, as if he’d been exposed to the elements. His hair was greying at the sides and receding at the front but it rebelled on top and stuck up in triumphant tufts. His eyes were a soft grey fanned by long, dark brown lashes, the envy of many a woman to whom nature had not been so generous.
Hannah hung up his coat, noticing at once that it was moth-eaten and thinning at the elbows, and led him into the sitting room where Eddie was playing with Harvey and Rita was sitting in front of the fire reading the papers. ‘These are two of my daughters,’ she said, her voice thick with pride. ‘Eddie and her bat Harvey, I’m afraid they’re inseparable, and Rita, whose fiancé is in the Argentine. He was in the RAF, you know.’
Harry shook their hands, smiling diffidently. Rita warmed to him immediately. He had that quality so often found in men who have been through life’s mangle that made women want to mother him.
‘Ah, a Microbat,’ he said, extending his hand and stroking the animal’s furry black head with his forefinger. ‘Shouldn’t he be hibernating?’
Eddie’s eyes sparkled. No one had ever taken such an interest in Harvey. ‘He doesn’t hibernate.’
‘Well, most bats hibernate during the winter months. I suppose your sleeve is so nice and snug he wants to be awake to enjoy it. What do you feed him?’
‘In the summertime he flies about and catches his own insects. But there aren’t any now so I give him berries and bread.’
‘Try a little fish,’ Harry suggested. ‘They love fish.’
‘Oh, I will,’ she enthused, her face extending into a wide smile. Harry sat down on the sofa and chuckled as Eddie placed herself beside him, so close they were pressed together, leaving half the sofa unoccupied.
‘Don’t suffocate our poor guest,’ said Humphrey in amusement. ‘I’m afraid you’ve made a new friend,’ he added to Harry. ‘Or should I say two new friends!’
‘Bats are fascinating creatures. They’re the only mammals that fly and are more closely related to humans than mice. Look at their hands, they have four fingers and a thumb, forearms, elbows and upper arms.’ He turned to Eddie. ‘Their scientific name is in fact
Chiroptera
which means “hand wing”. It’s thanks to bats that night-blooming flowers are pollinated and they’re nature’s best insect control. I’ve always enjoyed bats.’
Eddie sat gazing up at him with eyes full of love. ‘My Aunt Antoinette hates Harvey. He was so hurt when she said she would throw him in the pond,’ she said, blinking up at him. He put his arm around her and patted her gently.
‘You must forgive her, she was just frightened of him. She doesn’t know him like you do.’
At that moment a horn tooted outside. Hannah looked at her watch.
About time too
! she thought. They all looked at the door in anticipation.
‘That will be our other daughter, Maddie,’ she said to Harry. ‘She’s been out all morning with a friend.’
Humphrey raised his eyebrows at his wife, for he didn’t much like Bertie either, although the boy and Maddie had an awful lot in common.
Maddie strode into the sitting room. She’d much prefer to be lunching in Exeter. Already scowling, she hovered by the door with her arms crossed defensively in front of her. ‘Sorry I’m so late,’ she said.
‘That’s all right, my dear. Come and meet Harry Weaver. Harry is an expert on bats.’
‘Not an expert. Just curious,’ he replied, standing up to greet Maddie.
He was tall and lean like Trees but hunched a little as if uncomfortable with his stature. Maddie stared at him in wonder. To her embarrassment she felt her face burn and her heart accelerate. She shook his hand, which was soft and warm like dough, and was aware that an uncharacteristic grin, which she was quite unable to control, tickled the corners of her mouth. His gentle eyes settled on her, took in her immaculately painted face and sunset-coloured hair and felt, as she did, the invisible force of attraction vibrate between them like the quivering strings of a violin. He smiled back and shook his head slowly, awed by the unexpected allure of this young woman. Maddie blinked out of her daze and hastened to a chair where she was relieved to be able to rest her trembling legs. Everyone could feel the change in the air, subconsciously hearing the music of love that danced about the room, but no one was more surprised than Maddie. She lifted her eyes to look at him again and noticed, to her embarrassment, that he was still watching her, as if she were a rare and lovely bird.