WHEN THEY GET back to the smithy, Jake wanders around the courtyard and Mungo watches appreciatively whilst leaning on the bottom half of the stable door.
‘You are a very lucky girl,’ he tells Kit, who sits in the kitchen behind him. ‘He’s gorgeous. I can’t imagine why you wanted to run away from him.’
‘Yes, you can,’ she answers. ‘You know very well why I wanted to hide. Part of me still does. How on earth is it going to work, Mungo?’
He is silent for a moment, well aware that Kit is working up to one of her panic attacks.
‘I mean,’ she continues, ‘let’s face it, I’m not cut out for family life. I don’t have the necessary unselfishness for it. I like things my way and I’m worried in case I’m too old to change now.’
‘Well, I do sympathize, sweetie,’ he answers. ‘Jesus wanted me for a sunbeam but we could never agree the job spec. I really do think that it’s going to have to be a compromise.’
He doesn’t turn round but he can imagine the expression on Kit’s face.
‘After all,’ he goes on, ‘Jake’s got a family. He loves them. You can’t just pretend they aren’t there. But you don’t have to try to be a second mother, either. They won’t want that, anyway. They’re not babies. His daughters are grown-up women. Has it occurred to you that they might be very pleased to see him with someone who takes some of the burden from their shoulders? Parents can get to be a bit of a worry, can’t they? They’re probably thrilled to think he’ll be somebody else’s responsibility.’
Another silence.
‘So what’s brought this on?’ he asks. ‘It was all wonderful when you set off after lunch.’
‘Texts,’ says Kit. ‘Texts from Gaby. She’s the youngest one, about to have her first baby, missing Papa.’
‘Of course she is,’ protests Mungo. ‘Come on, sweetie. Use your imagination. Her mother’s dead. First child due. Of course she’s missing her father. What’s the matter with you?’
‘I don’t know. I think part of it was that it was Gaby who was ill that time when Jake and I were just getting it back together and he went off without a backward look. It hurt, Mungo. It was weird how it kind of resonated when he mentioned her.’
Staring out into the courtyard Mungo is beginning to see more problems than he’d first envisaged. All Kit’s insecurities are resurfacing and she and Jake haven’t had long enough together to establish a solid new relationship.
‘He loves you,’ he says strongly. ‘That’s what really matters. He really loves you, Kit. Please don’t be foolish and throw it away for a second time. You told me that you were the one who wouldn’t commit, not Jake. OK, so he moved on and now he’s got a family out there. But at the first opportunity he’s come back to find you. For God’s sake, sweetie, don’t be a complete idiot all your life. Take a day off occasionally and behave like a grown-up.’
To his relief she laughs.
‘Thanks, Mungo!’
‘I know, I know,’ he says. ‘Pots and kettles … I just don’t want you to miss out. You’re so right together, and it’s going to be such fun. Trust your uncle Mungo. Oh, and by the way, Archie has invited us all up for drinks this evening.’
‘What! Oh God. It’ll be so embarrassing. They have no idea about Jake.’
‘They’ve got to find out some time. Do get a grip.’ Mungo straightens up. ‘He’s coming in.’
He opens the lower half of the door and Jake comes into the kitchen. Mungo glances at Kit, who has a rather dazed expression. Clearly she is anticipating the forthcoming drinks party.
‘Courage, ma brave,’ he mutters. ‘You’ve got to practise on someone. I can’t wait to see Camilla’s face.’
‘I still think you might have asked,’ Camilla is saying, as she carries glasses and nibbles out to the veranda.
‘I can’t see that it makes the least bit of difference whether it’s a man or a woman,’ answers Archie impatiently. ‘Honestly, darling, do stop fussing about it. You should have phoned Mungo and asked him if you’re that worried.’
Camilla lights the candles. She’d already thought of that but it seemed rather foolish, especially if Kit happened to be near at hand when he answered. It’s simply that she likes to be prepared, to know what form the evening might take. ‘A friend from Paris,’ Archie said – which could mean all sorts of things.
‘They’re here,’ Archie says, as Mungo’s familiar call rings out and he hurries through to meet them, and now she can hear Kit’s voice and another male voice greeting Archie and she experiences a slight sense of relief that it isn’t going to be a smart sophisticated Frenchwoman who might make her feel dowdy. A Frenchman can be relied upon to be polite.
And indeed, this handsome, very sexy Frenchman doesn’t make her feel the least bit dowdy. Au contraire, as he takes her hand and smiles at her she feels rather flustered, in a good way, and pleased that she changed into a clean shirt and put a silk scarf around her neck. At the very least it will hide the scraggy dinosaur effect she notices when she looks in the mirror. But this very good-looking Jake seems oblivious of the negative aspects of growing older and concentrates on her, laughing at her little witticisms and flattering her with his attention. Camilla finds that she is responding to him, even flirting with him, and she looks round for Kit lest she might misunderstand and be upset. But no; Kit is beaming at her, lifting her glass as though she thoroughly understands the effect that a man like Jake must have upon someone who lives with Archie and two springer spaniels and doesn’t get out much.
Camilla pushes her blond hair – slightly assisted these days but still blond – behind her ears and refills Jake’s glass.
Archie watches with amusement. Camilla is really enjoying herself and he is filled with an enormous affection for her. When she tucks her hair behind her ears like that she reminds him of the young Camilla he fell in love with all those years ago. Suddenly he feels stronger, more able, and filled with courage. All in an instant he makes up his mind. He decides he isn’t ready to leave the place where he and Camilla have lived all their married lives, where they brought up their children and have been so happy.
Kit is now talking to Camilla and Jake, whilst Mungo is selecting a nibble and fending off the dogs. Archie moves to stand beside him.
‘I’ve been thinking about what you were saying earlier,’ he says, keeping his voice down. ‘Thanks for your offer, Mungo, I really appreciate it but I’ve decided to put in for planning permission to build in the orchard. It will bring in money without splitting up the estate and it gives us a breathing space.’
He’s aware that Mungo is staring at him rather oddly, almost in alarm, and he frowns enquiringly at him.
‘You mustn’t worry about Philip and Billy,’ he says. ‘It’ll be a bit noisy, and I know they love the old orchard, but it’s not the end of the world.’
‘But will you get planning permission?’ asks Mungo. ‘Honestly, I wish you’d just let me help you.’
‘I’m sure we will.’ Archie is faintly irritated by Mungo’s lack of enthusiasm. After all, this maintains the status quo and doesn’t require anyone to fork out. ‘The orchard has its own access. It’s the obvious thing to do. No, I’ve made up my mind. Let’s drink to it.’
But before he can fill Mungo’s glass, Camilla calls to him, suggesting that everyone stays for supper, and the moment passes.
‘Are you OK?’ Kit asks Mungo. He looks odd, a bit shell-shocked, and she’s anxious about him. Everyone’s having such a wonderful time and she’s feeling confident again; happy. It’s as if Camilla’s response to Jake has made her see him as other women do. She sees anew his warmth and quirkiness; his ability to relate, and it’s as if she’s falling in love with him all over again. She wants Mungo to be pleased about it; to be happy for her. Instead he looks abstracted, rather as if he’s bracing himself to do something he’s dreading.
‘Jake’s going to have to stay overnight in the barn,’ she tells Mungo. ‘Is that OK? He’s had too much to drink to be able to drive. You did say it might be a possibility.’
She waits for Mungo to make a joke about it, as he did earlier, to say that Jake had better lock his door, but Mungo just nods and says it’s OK so that Kit feels even more anxious and her high spirits subside a little.
Camilla is beside her and Mungo moves away. ‘I like your Jake, Kit,’ she murmurs in her ear. ‘He is so dishy. I suppose we couldn’t share him, could we? Come and help me get some supper. I want to hear all about it.’
Kit glances up, catches Jake’s eye and he gives her a little wink. Smiling back at him, she follows Camilla into the kitchen.
Mungo leans against a pillar at the edge of the veranda, staring out into the dusk, and Jake moves to stand beside him.
‘Did I pass?’ he murmurs. ‘How many marks out of ten?’
He sees Mungo smile almost unwillingly, as if his thoughts are far away, and he looks very sad.
‘Oh, full marks, I think,’ he answers. ‘You’ve certainly made a hit with Camilla.’
Jake feels the weight of Mungo’s spirits, the effort he is making to be cheerful, and wonders what has cast him down.
‘I was trying to make Kit jealous,’ he jokes, hoping to make him laugh.
Mungo shakes his head. ‘That won’t work. It’s your daughters you have to watch out for there. You’re not out of the wood yet, you know.’
‘I’m well aware of it but I don’t know how to play it. What would you do?’
‘I’d marry Kit at the earliest opportunity, present it to your daughters as a fait accompli and then settle down to making it work. Kit will feel secure and your daughters will soon see that nothing has really changed. She won’t want to interfere but you simply mustn’t give her time to dither.’
Jake looks at him, impressed. ‘You make it sound so easy.’
‘It can be if you put your mind to it. I hear you’re staying the night.’
‘You did say that it would be OK.’
‘Oh, it is. I was just wondering …’
‘What?’ Jake stares at him suspiciously. ‘If you’re wondering what I think you are, Mungo, you can forget it. Apart from anything else I wouldn’t be able to face you over the eggs and bacon tomorrow morning.’
‘That’s the trouble with you Frogs,’ says Mungo. ‘So sensitive. But perhaps you’re right.’
Jake remembers Kit saying, ‘I just don’t want us to be his next production,’ and he smiles to himself.
‘I can manage my own seduction scene, thanks,’ he says. ‘Not that I’m questioning your director’s skills, of course, Sir Mungo.’
‘I shall watch and learn,’ says Mungo drily. ‘It’s always good to see an expert at work. Only, for all our sakes, do get on with it.’
Philip sits on the bench outside the back door, waiting for Star, who is having her late night run in the orchard. Billy has been in bed awhile, contented with his day: physio in the morning and the tea party in the afternoon.
They both enjoyed the tea party, were invigorated by the company of Emma and the children, and then that young officer turned up. Sharp, he looked, ready for trouble. It was clear that Emma was frightened of him in some way. She leaned forward and spoke very low and quickly. ‘Don’t go,’ she said. ‘Don’t leave us alone with him.’
Just for a moment he thought that the young fellow, Marcus, was going to do something silly. When Philip gripped his arm he felt him trembling; the rage in him burning like a flame. Then, just for a brief moment, he remembered Ralph, his own spasm of fury and the fatal twist of the wheel, and he held on tighter, pulling the younger man away. And suddenly the fight went out of him, he almost collapsed, and allowed himself to be led away like a child.
When he went back to the party little Joe was showing Billy his trains and Emma was watching, though her thoughts were far away.
‘He’s on his way home,’ he told her. ‘He won’t be back.’
‘I hope not,’ she said. She looked like Izzy then; that same old look of despair, humiliation and regret. ‘I’ve been such a fool, Philip.’
He felt the familiar sensations of helpless love, of protectiveness. How strange it was that Izzy should come back to him through this girl.
‘We’re all fools sometimes,’ he said, not knowing how to comfort her. ‘Part of being human.’
She smiled then, rather sadly but a smile all the same. ‘You sound like Mungo,’ she said.
‘Well, then.’ He watched Billy examining one of Joe’s engines, turning it carefully in his good hand while Joe stood at his knee, talking.
‘Don’t go just yet,’ Emma said. ‘Or – is Billy OK? Should you be getting him home?’
‘Reckon he’ll do a while yet,’ he answered comfortably. ‘How about another cup of tea?’
Now, sitting on the bench, he remembers the glow of pleasure, even triumph, he felt at seeing her smile of gratitude: an old lion defending his territory, his family. And he hopes that Marcus has reached home safely – wherever home is.
‘Nice little maid,’ Billy said contentedly, as Philip wheeled him home. ‘Nice little family. You did well there, boy. Chancing his arm, was he?’
‘Trying it on,’ Philip said. ‘Showed him up. He won’t be back.’
Odd how he felt confident about that. No young man likes to be humiliated in front of a young woman by an older man. He still felt strong; invigorated by the encounter. And then, just after they got back inside, young Andy arrived with a proposition. He sat at the kitchen table, eager and strong and young, and told his grandfather his hopes and dreams.
‘I’ve been thinking about stuff, Granddad. I’d like to make a start on my own and I was talking to Dad about whether I could, you know, move down here with you and Uncle Billy, and get the farm up and working again. Get some stock back in. I’d still keep up my contract work and the logging, but then later, if I made a go of it and Archie agreed, and you were OK with it, I could take over the farm tenancy after you.’
He talked sensibly, seeing the need to diversify, but his love for the place was clear and his enthusiasm was catching. Philip promised to think about it, said he’d have a word with Archie, and now he sits wondering how Mungo is planning to work out the problem in the orchard. If Andy were to take over the farm it might never arise – but the risk would always be there.
Star appears out of the shadows and pushes her head against his knee. He fondles her ears and murmurs to her: ‘Good girl, then. Good girl.’ She presses close to him and together they watch the moon rise beyond the hedge, sailing up above the ash trees, pouring its light into this valley where Judds have farmed for generations.
Supposing Mags were to be right and Archie were to build houses in the orchard so that, instead of this deep silence and velvet darkness, there were to be the noise of televisions, the blaze of lights, cars coming and going? For the moment even the discovery of Ralph’s body and the scandal that might follow seem as nothing when set against the destruction of his own small piece of this ancient valley.
Philip gets up and, with Star close beside him, goes inside.
James is packing ready for his weekend back in Oxford. He’s looking forward to being at home with Sally, telling her about the progress of the book. Actually he’s beginning to wonder if there’s much more to be achieved here. The peace and simplicity is magical but he suspects that he needs a bit more action; a touch of city life, the sound of police sirens, a sight of feral youth. Nothing happens here to stimulate his imagination when it comes to the seamier side of life. It’s been very useful to drive and walk around the location, and it’s a real blessing to have the space to write for as long as he likes whenever the moment strikes, but perhaps he’s ready to move on. He needs a bigger canvas, a much wider world, so as to touch the hearts and minds of people; to change even one life for good. This is his secret longing: to make a difference. But it won’t happen here in this forgotten valley.
He goes downstairs to write to Sally.
Looking forward to getting home. I’ve decided to make an early start so I shall definitely be back in time for lunch! I want to get on this evening with some writing while I’ve got a few more ideas fresh in my mind. You know what it’s like! Then I shall be ready for a break. In fact, I’m wondering if you could come down for a couple of days next week just to have some time here together before I finally pack up. You’ve got a few days’ holiday due to you, haven’t you? We could have that little party I talked about and invite all the neighbours. I know Camilla would be delighted to see you. I think she’s secretly hoping that she might appear in the book but I can’t imagine any of them fitting into my character list, let alone being involved in my plot! It’s a very stereotypical little hamlet – apart from Sir Mungo, of course, but I suspect he spends much of his time in London. I’ve just had a chat with Emma next door. They were having a little tea party in the garden with old Billy and Philip when I got home earlier. I had a little peek over the wall and you’ll never guess who was there! The weird chap I’ve been seeing around. All good mates together, friend of the family, so that’s all cleared up. I couldn’t believe my eyes for a moment and just stood there staring at him in amazement. Hope he didn’t think I was being rude. Anyway, I went round after they’d all gone to say I was off again and to mention that we might be having a party when I got back. Emma’s very nice, very laid-back, and the little boy offered me a Smartie cake. You’ll like him and the baby. We’ll probably have to have them at the party, too, if she can’t get a babysitter! Still, it’ll give them all a bit of excitement in their quiet lives. They all know about the books and I think I’m almost as much of a celeb as Sir Mungo!! Looking forward to hearing all your news.
Back to work. See you soon. J xx