The Swallow and the Hummingbird (6 page)

‘It’s a pleasure to see you back, George. Come and join us. The tea’s still hot. How about some of Hannah’s homemade bread?’ said Humphrey, patting George firmly on the back.

‘Thank you. The bread smells delicious.’

‘Rita will be down in a minute,’ said Hannah, anticipating George’s next question. She watched him sit at the table, his long legs spreading out in front of him, dwarfing the chair. How handsome he looked with his ruffled hair and light eyes. The war might have made a man out of him yet he still had the same boyish expression on his face, as if he were about to tell one of his stories. He always used to tell wonderful stories and, oh, how they’d laugh.

‘We’re all having a picnic on the beach today. Will you join us?’ he asked, slicing himself a piece of bread. Hannah tore her eyes away and returned to the rocking chair, picking up her knitting needles.

‘What a splendid idea. The girls will be thrilled,’ she said and at that moment Rita’s radiant face appeared at the kitchen door.

Humphrey watched his daughter as she walked buoyantly over to George and bent down to plant a kiss on his cheek. Her eyes sparkled like Megagran’s glass of sherry and she reminded him very much of Hannah at the same age, for they had been young when they had married. George grinned bashfully, the way he always did with half his mouth and, as he looked up at her, his face softened into an expression of tenderness and pride. He patted her appreciatively on her lower back and with a sweeping glance took in her long curly hair and thin summer dress. Humphrey sat back in his chair, unaware that his face had been transformed by such a gentle scene.

When Eddie managed to drag herself out of bed she saw Trees’ truck parked outside and knew that meant George was there. With great excitement she leapt down the stairs, two steps at a time and, without stopping, ran into the kitchen and into George’s arms, throwing herself onto his knee. He laughed heartily as she pressed her warm face against his and kissed him passionately. ‘I’m so pleased you’re home. I missed you so much. More than Rita, I’m sure.’

‘I missed your monkey face too!’ he chuckled.

‘You’re a hero. Did you kill lots of Germans?’

‘Eddie, why don’t you let poor George eat his toast,’ said Hannah. ‘We’re spending the day all together on the beach, you can plague him with your questions then.’

Reluctantly, she slipped off his knee and pulled out a chair. Rita wished they could spend the day alone and she linked eyes with George. He grinned, and her body trembled, for in his gaze she recognized the physical longing that she felt too, and the memory of the evening before returned to singe her cheeks with desire.

Maddie emerged from her bath to the sound of a man’s voice downstairs that didn’t belong to her father. It was deep and grainy like sand and unmistakably George’s. She hastily dressed and did her hair in the mirror, rubbing a touch of rouge into her cheeks. Pleased with the result and with the doll-like prettiness that smiled back at her, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

She was surprised by the change in George. He exuded an animal vigour that now replaced the boyish exuberance of before. She felt momentarily envious of her sister, and couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to lie beneath him. She had to avert her eyes and concentrate on something else in case the lasciviousness in them betrayed her thoughts. She had always liked George; he was witty and funny and charismatic, but she had never looked on him as a
man
. Now, having experienced physical love she could barely think of anything else. It had been so pleasurable she wanted more. Instinctively, she sensed the sexual tension between George and her sister like a hound smelling the blood of a fox and she wished her American hadn’t left so that he could satisfy her longing in the back of his jeep.

Hannah took pleasure in preparing the picnic. Hard-boiled eggs from Elvestree House, cold chicken and salad, turkey sandwiches, Spam and cheese. She packed the boot of the car with rugs and took an extra cardigan for herself in case the weather changed, which it often did, quite unexpectedly. While she cooked she looked out of the kitchen window and watched Rita and George talking on the swing chair while Eddie lay on the grass hanging onto their every word. Maddie was on the terrace flicking through a magazine. She adored gazing at photographs of the Hollywood stars like Lauren Bacall, Jane Russell and Rita Hayworth, and spent much time in the bathroom trying to cultivate the same looks with lipstick and curlers.

At eleven George drove the truck home with Rita by his side and Eddie and Maddie in the back, lifting up their hands to catch leaves from the trees that hung over the road.

‘God, it feels good to be back,’ he said, placing his free hand on Rita’s upper thigh. ‘It’s good to feel you too,’ he murmured.

‘Careful, there are little spies in the back,’ she replied, glancing through the window behind her.

‘Only one little one, and one rather knowing one,’ he said with a smirk. ‘Maddie’s lost more than her innocence in the war.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘A man knows these things.’

‘Do I look so naïve?’

‘Yes, but I like you that way.’ He squeezed her thigh.

‘Maddie gave herself to an American called Hank.’

‘He would be, wouldn’t he?’

‘What?’

‘Called Hank!’ They both laughed.

‘She’s wicked. She’s only nineteen. Nice girls aren’t supposed to behave that way. Mummy and Daddy would be appalled.’

‘Sex and war go hand in hand, Rita. You can’t have one without the other. People know they could die at any minute so they lose themselves in each other.’

‘It’s terribly romantic.’

‘In war a man has to love, if only to assert that he’s very much alive in the face of possible death. Girls like Maddie serve a vital purpose, but you don’t work in that department, my love. You’re special.’ She smiled at him, reassured that Maddie’s advice had been wrong. ‘I kept your photo with me all the time and imagined making love to you,’ he continued. ‘You kept me going when little else could. Hank was probably the same. Maddie made him feel alive.’

‘I only had eyes for you,’ she said quietly, her face flushing with pride. ‘I had loads of offers. The Americans were everywhere. But I turned them down. All I could think of was you.’

‘You’re a very special girl, Rita, and I love you for it,’ he said tenderly. He pulled his cigarette packet out of his breast pocket. ‘Here, light me one, would you?’

Rita liked the smell of smoke, it reminded her of those early evenings on the cliffs when they’d both smoke together after school, and of her father, who always lit up in the car on his way home after work. Now she lit the cigarette for George, took a drag herself, then handed it over. He held it between his thumb and forefinger and placed it to his lips. She attempted to put the packet back in his breast pocket but it was obstructed by a thick piece of paper. She pulled it out. It was her photograph. She was young. Not more than Maddie’s age. It was black and white and faded somewhat due to so much handling.

‘I think this needs replacing,’ she said, slipping it back.

‘Absolutely not. I’ll carry that picture until I die.’

‘There won’t be a picture by then,’ she replied with a chuckle. ‘It’s faded already.’ He couldn’t tell her that he had taken to kissing it after each flight. Such a sentimental ritual seemed trite with hindsight.

They pulled up at Lower Farm and tooted the horn. The children ran out of the house and hung onto the gate, squealing in delight at the prospect of a picnic on the beach. Alice emerged with Faye, carrying baskets and rugs which they loaded into the truck, and Mildred scampered out of a barn followed by Trees whose hair was white and fluffy and dancing on the wind like goose down. George and Rita joined the girls in the back and pulled the children up with them while Faye and Alice climbed into the front with Trees at the wheel. As the truck pulled out into the road they all broke into song while Mildred wagged her tail in time, pleased to be included.

They parked on the cliff next to Humphrey’s Lee Francis and proceeded to walk down the little path to the beach. The sky was choppy like the sea and buoyant with feathery clouds and sea gulls that glided on the fresh westerly wind. George and Trees carried the picnic while Rita took little Johnnie’s hand to guide him down the hill. The salty air was sweetened by the fertile smell of new grass and wild flowers, and Rita turned her eyes to the left where they had walked the evening before and her thoughts were once again drawn away from the present.

Humphrey and Hannah had set down the rugs near the bank where they’d be protected from the wind and while he stood smoking, gazing out across the ocean, she was carefully laying out the containers of food and thermos flasks of tea and hot cocoa. When they saw the approaching group they waved enthusiastically.

‘What a jolly idea, Faye,’ said Hannah happily. ‘Pity about the wind, but at least it’s sunny.’

‘We just thought it would be nice to spend the day all together.’

‘With dear George,’ Hannah added, smiling fondly. ‘Hasn’t he grown into a handsome young man?’

‘I know, I’m very proud,’ replied Faye, turning to make sure that he was out of earshot.

‘To think we may share grandchildren.’ Hannah sighed. Then she added hastily, ‘God willing.’

‘Oh, wouldn’t that be nice. Grandchildren are such a blessing. Johnnie and Jane give us so much pleasure. I’d like to see George settling down with a family. He’s been through so much.’ Her face suddenly darkened with anxiety. ‘Well, I’m sure he’ll talk to Trees. After all, he served in the Great War. He understands.’

‘What a brave young man. Our fighter pilots were the heroes of the war. You must be so proud.’

‘I am,’ she said. She couldn’t begin to explain how grateful she was that he had survived and dared not speak of her fears to anyone, not even Trees. ‘Now, let me help you. I’ve got some leftover rabbit stew, the farm is literally hopping with rabbits. Trees takes Johnnie up to the woods in his truck and they spend long evenings shooting them. Johnnie’s riveted. He worships his grandfather. I can’t cook much,’ she said, remembering the welcome home cake, ‘but I can cook a good rabbit stew thanks to your mother’s recipe. Did you invite Primrose?’

‘Goodness no! We want a little peace, don’t we?’ They both laughed and looked at Trees, who was sitting on the rug talking to Humphrey. Of all of them, he was the one person who truly appreciated Mrs Megalith, for she was just as passionate about walnut trees as he was, and for such a taciturn man he was remarkably verbose when talking to her.

After lunch George set up a treasure hunt for the young by drawing trails into the sand with a shell, then burying a bag full of boiled sweets at the very end of one trail. There were many red herrings and it took him half an hour to complete for the lines he drew weaved around rocks, into caves and for long distances across the beach. Finally Johnnie and Jane set off with the help of Eddie, Maddie and Alice. Their laughter and squeals of delight resounded across the bay, carried on the wind with the cries of gulls and the roar of waves. The grownups drank cider, smoked and talked so that George and Rita were able to sneak over the rocks and across the strip of sand to their secret cave without being noticed.

It was warm and damp inside and quiet out of the wind. He swung her around and kissed her. ‘Careful, they might find us,’ she said, pulling away.

‘Not in here they won’t. Believe me, it’ll take them hours to find the treasure.’ He grinned at her triumphantly and kissed her again. He smelt of smoke and tasted of cider. His hands ran over the skirt of her dress, against her thighs and over her bottom and she felt a warm wave of arousal wash over her. ‘They can leave us here and we can walk back to your house later,’ he mumbled, burying his face in her neck and tasting the salt on her skin. But to her dismay, Rita remembered her grandmother.

‘I have to go to Megagran’s for tea,’ she said with a heavy sigh.

‘Can’t you go tomorrow?’

‘You know Megagran.’

He pulled away and frowned impatiently. ‘There’s no one like Mrs Megalith to dampen one’s ardour.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, running her fingers through his hair.

‘Well, no point wasting time,’ and he bent his head to kiss her again.

Chapter 4

‘Ah, Rita,’ said Mrs Megalith as Rita appeared through the arch in the garden wall. ‘You can help me with these crystals.’ She picked up a large amethyst and handed it to her granddaughter. ‘Careful, it’s heavy. Now, that one goes in the drawing room, on the table as you go in, you’ll see the gap. It’s my favourite so don’t drop it.’

Rita obediently put it in its place then helped with the others. There were many, of every shape and colour, and Mrs Megalith took great pleasure in telling her the properties of each as they placed them all over the house. ‘Just feel the energy in them now they’ve soaked up the elements. Nothing like a good clean.’ She stood on the terrace, clasped a large blue sodalite to her bosom and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply while Rita stood quietly, waiting for this moment of spiritual ecstasy to end. A ginger cat slipped sinuously between Mrs Megalith’s ankles, rubbing his fur on her thick stockings. Rita picked it up and held it against her until her grandmother finally opened her eyes. ‘Magical, simply magical,’ she breathed enthusiastically. ‘Nature never ceases to delight one.’

Rita followed her into the kitchen and was given a tumbler of elderflower cordial and a biscuit. At that moment the ginger cat sprang out of her arms. A couple of black ones dashed out from under the kitchen table and three or four jumped off the windowsills and disappeared outside in pursuit of something beyond the senses of human beings.

‘Cats never cease to delight one either,’ said Mrs Megalith, watching the last, very fat cat amble lazily through the door. ‘I seem to attract them. Every time I count I have more than the time before. God only knows where they all come from.’

‘Cats are most unaffectionate creatures,’ said Rita, thinking of Mildred and how much she loved to be petted.