TAMAR

She is waiting for them at the end of the drive, a small figure wearing denim dungarees over a high-necked jersey, her long red-brown hair tied back. She waves enthusiastically to Oliver, who waves back, then gives a sideways glance at Guy, who is summing her up with his usual uncompromising stare.

‘No need to frighten her to death,’ suggests Oliver. ‘You could even try smiling.’

‘Shut up,’ mutters Guy, and gets out of the car. He has already decided that he is going to use his not inconsiderable charm and, before Oliver can introduce them, he’s holding out his hand, saying, ‘You must be Jess. I’m Guy Webster, David Porteous’ stepson. Congratulations on winning his Award,’ and Jess is looking very slightly shy and smiling back at him.

She says something about Kate and how kind she’s been inviting her to Chapel Street, but Guy has caught sight of the sail loft and the river.

‘Pretty good here, though,’ he says. ‘Better than the town, I should think.’

His gaze is taking in the boats at anchor out in the deep-water channel and he instinctively moves towards them, with Jess still at his side, talking to her as he strides across the grass. She turns to look back at Oliver, gives a little apologetic shrug as she hurries to keep up.

‘That was quick work,’ murmurs a voice from behind him, and Oliver swings round to see a fair-haired woman surveying him with amusement. ‘It wasn’t even much of a chat-up line, either. Does he always cut you out like that?’

Oliver is aware of a very odd sensation; as if everything – the world, time, sound – has briefly stopped and now jolts on again but in an entirely different way. Nothing will ever be quite the same again. He shrugs, pretending resignation.

‘Story of my life,’ he says. ‘Are you Sophie?’

She nods. ‘And you’re Oliver. Jess has told me about you, and Johnnie thinks we must have met in the distant past. And that must be Guy. Where d’you think he’s taking her?’

‘It’ll be the boats,’ says Oliver. ‘My brother-in-law is a single-minded fellow. I apologize for him. I don’t think he can have seen you there. I didn’t either.’

‘That’s OK. I can sympathize with that. I’m a sailor myself, and it’s spectacular here, isn’t it? Come in and have some coffee while he gets it out of his system.’

‘Thanks. Jess said something about having coffee in the sail loft. I don’t want to muscle in…’

‘When Jess told us you were coming Johnnie said to be sure to bring you in,’ Sophie says firmly. ‘He’s looking forward to meeting you again. He says it’s years since he saw you.’

Oliver follows her into the house just as Johnnie appears from another room across the hall. He stretches out a hand in greeting.

‘Oliver,’ he says. ‘It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other but I’d know you anywhere as Cass’s son.’

As they all go into the kitchen a bad-tempered little terrier comes stiff-legged from its basket by the Aga, growling at Oliver, and Johnnie says, ‘Oh, shut up, Popps,’ and scoops the little dog into his arms. Sophie grins at Oliver and he grins back at her and suddenly he is happier than he has ever been in his life.

He watches her as she makes coffee, liking the line of her jaw and her muscular shapeliness; her skin is still faintly tanned by summer winds and the sun, and her mouth is wide and curling. She smiles now as Jess and Guy come into the kitchen and Popps starts barking. Oliver stands up to make introductions and Guy says, ‘That’s a beautiful classic yacht you’ve got out on the river, sir. Jess says you restored her yourself,’ whilst Jess soothes Popps, and again Oliver’s eyes meet Sophie’s and it’s as if they are magically set apart from the talking, laughing group.

He sits down at the table again and looks at Jess, trying to bring her into focus. Johnnie and Guy are deep in conversation about boats and sailing, Sophie is pouring coffee into white china mugs.

‘How are you?’ he asks Jess, and now that he is concentrating on her he sees that her eyes are shadowed, thoughtful.

‘OK,’ she says. ‘I’m fine,’ but she looks away from him, biting her lip, and her hands, partially hidden beneath the table, twist and turn as if she is washing them.

‘Is something wrong?’ He keeps his voice low.

She shakes her head but still looks uncertain. ‘I’d like to show you something,’ she says. ‘Just you. When we go over to the sail loft.’

‘OK,’ he says. ‘When we’ve had coffee?’ and she nods, smiles quickly at Sophie, who is passing coffee to her, and turns to listen to Johnnie, who is now talking about sailing in the Fastnet.

‘I’ll just go and check on Rowena,’ says Sophie.

When she’s gone Oliver relaxes in his seat, taking deep breaths as if he has been running very fast. Slowly the room swings into focus: the terrier back in its basket; Guy’s animated expression as he listens to Johnnie; the jar of spindleberries on the table. He is content to be held in this moment, this little space of time, before she returns and something quite new begins.

*   *   *

‘What a place,’ murmurs Guy. He stands in the sea garden, staring up at Circe, gazing downriver towards the two great bridges. ‘It’s crazy. I spent the first twenty years of my life around Tavistock and I never knew this was here. Well, the Tamar, of course. Pentillie Castle. Cotehele. Morwellam. But I’ve never sailed here. For some reason I did all my sailing out of Dartmouth.’

It is clear that Johnnie is flattered by Guy’s reaction to his home and its surroundings.

‘We could sail tomorrow, if you like,’ he offers. ‘Take Alice out and make a day of it. The tide’s right but we’d need to get off by eight o’clock latest. How would that suit you?’

Oliver almost laughs at Guy’s expression: he looks like a five-year-old on Christmas morning.

‘I’d love it,’ he says at once. ‘It would be great.’

‘That’s settled then,’ says Johnnie.

He begins to explain that the sea garden was once a quay, how the old sailing boats and barges used to come right upriver, and Guy listens, fascinated. They wander away towards the boathouse.

So much, thinks Oliver, for getting in touch with Gemma and trying to sort things out.

He wonders what is in Guy’s mind: clearly he feels that one more day won’t matter; after all, Gemma doesn’t know that he’s in the country.

‘We email quite a lot,’ Gemma said, ‘but he’s useless with a mobile. I insist that he has one but he never switches it on. He’s a very bad communicator. Thank God Ma got on to Skype when we went out. At least I can sometimes get him on that, and the boys love it, of course.’

He strolls behind Guy and Johnnie, across the lawn, but when Jess and Sophie come out of the house he changes direction and goes to meet them.

‘The boathouse is next on the agenda,’ he tells them. ‘Johnnie’s invited Guy to go sailing tomorrow.’

‘I wonder which boat he’s taking out,’ says Sophie, alert at once; keen. ‘We could get hold of old Fred and make a day of it.’ She raises her eyebrows at Oliver. ‘I think you said that you’re not a sailing man? You don’t fancy a day’s sailing in the Channel?’

He shakes his head, smiling. ‘Not me, lady. But Guy will be in his element.’

She laughs. ‘A landlubber,’ she says.

Another look goes between them, acknowledging this thing that has happened to them, and with it an odd sense of acceptance. There is none of the anxiety or tension or fever that is often present at such moments; just this deep-down happiness. Sophie turns away to follow Guy and Johnnie; Oliver looks at Jess, sensing her relief.

‘Is this a good moment to show me whatever it is you want me to see?’

He follows her up the steps and into the sail loft. Whilst he wanders through the large light room she disappears into her bedroom and presently reappears with a photograph.

‘Lady T showed me this,’ she says, holding it out to him. ‘It’s got Mike in it. I wondered if you’d recognize anyone else.’

He takes the big black-and-white photograph and studies the young men.

‘Which is Mike?’ he asks. ‘Mike’s your grandfather, right?’

He notices the faintest of hesitations before she answers.

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘That’s Mike.’

As she points at one of the young men Oliver gives a cry of recognition. ‘There’s Pa,’ he says. ‘Look, here. And that’s Johnnie beside him, surely. You can see the likeness when you really look. So that’s Mike, is it? But I don’t recognize the other three. Do you know who they are?’

‘That one,’ she says, pointing, ‘is Al.’

‘Who’s Al?’

‘Johnnie’s older brother. He died in a sailing accident.’

‘Oh, yes, I remember now.’ Oliver looks more closely, then shakes his head. ‘Didn’t Lady T tell you who they were?’

‘She’d just told me about Al and then she had a really bad angina attack. Sophie thinks she’s had a very slight stroke as well. It was really scary.’

‘How awful for you. But look, Johnnie will know who they are. Why not ask him?’

Jess takes the photograph, shakes her head. ‘I don’t want to do that. Not just at the moment. It’s to do with something she said, and there’s another thing as well.’

She stands, indecisive, as if she is wondering whether to confide in him, and then Guy and Johnnie pass by outside the window and there is a little knock at the door. Jess slips away with the photograph and Oliver opens the door.

‘Would Jess mind if Guy has a look?’ asks Johnnie. ‘Bit of a cheek with Jess in residence…’

Oliver hesitates, glancing round for Jess.

‘Of course it isn’t,’ she says from behind him. ‘Come in. It’s the most amazing place, Guy.’

Oliver watches as Guy walks the length of the sail loft, exclaiming in delight while Johnnie explains why his grandfather had his sails specially made, and they all go out on to the balcony. Jess glances back at Oliver, gives him a little smiling nod as if to say: ‘All’s well, don’t worry.’ He hesitates but she nods again, more firmly this time, and he turns and goes out; across the lawn to the house, to Sophie.

*   *   *

‘I’ve taken Popps up to keep Rowena company while she has her lunch,’ says Sophie.

Her fine fair hair swings forward as she leans to stir the soup and she tucks it behind her ears. She puts a tray of rolls into the oven and some bowls to warm. A bottle of claret stands warming by the Aga.

‘Is Guy a wine or a beer man?’ she asks. ‘I’ve got some Jail Ale.’

‘Definitely an ale man,’ answers Oliver. He pulls out a chair and sits down at the table. ‘I’m driving but I think a glass of wine wouldn’t be out of order. This is very kind of you, taking us all in. First Jess and now me and Guy. Especially when you’ve never met any of us before.’

‘Oh, Johnnie loves having visitors. He’s never happier than when the house is bulging at the seams. Rowena’s the same, though she can’t handle it like she used to.’

‘And you?’

‘Me? Oh, I love it too. And Jess is no trouble at all. It’s such a shame that Rowena’s been taken ill but she’s very anxious that Jess should stay.’

She pours wine into two glasses and passes one to Oliver. He lifts his glass, looking at her, and she looks back at him. Her eyes are the colour of warm clear amber.

‘It seems that Jess has something on her mind,’ he says.

‘Yes,’ she agrees. ‘I thought that it was you.’

‘Me?’ he says, startled.

Sophie’s mouth quirks into a little smile. ‘She talks about you rather a lot. And when we were planning the reunion supper she asked if you could be invited.’

He is silent, thinking quickly: it is crucial that there should be no misunderstandings here.

‘She’s Kate’s protégée. You know, winning the David Porteous Award and so on. I think Jess was rather taken by the idea of coming down to the West Country to find her roots but a bit daunted by the age gap when she arrived. I’m quite a bit older than she is, but even so I think she was relieved to meet someone who was younger than her old granny. More like an uncle, wouldn’t you say? I felt it was my duty to rescue her.’

Sophie laughs. ‘How noble of you.’

‘Oh, I’m all heart that isn’t armpit.’

‘And, of course, it doesn’t hurt that she’s extremely attractive.’

‘That was a bonus,’ he says blandly. ‘Do we have to keep talking about Jess?’

‘You started it,’ she reminds him. ‘What would you like to talk about?’

‘Your mobile telephone number, for a start, before everyone comes back,’ he says, ‘and then about a good place to have dinner.’

*   *   *

‘I’ll drive myself over tomorrow morning,’ says Guy. ‘Johnnie’s invited me to breakfast so that we can go down with the tide.’

Driving carefully in the narrow lanes, Oliver thinks about this. It’s been discussed at lunch and finally decided that Jess will join Guy and Johnnie whilst Sophie stays to keep an eye on Lady T.

‘I can go sailing any time,’ Sophie said. ‘You’d like to go, wouldn’t you, Jess?’ And Jess nodded and said that she’d like to go with Guy and Johnnie if Sophie really didn’t mind.

Thinking about it, Oliver suspects that Jess doesn’t want to be left alone with Lady T and that it has something to do with the photograph, but he can’t think what it might be. He wasn’t able to talk to her again except for a few words after lunch.

‘You can come back to Chapel Street any time you like,’ he told her quietly. ‘Don’t be put off because Guy’s here for a few days.’

‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Really. I want to be here for a bit longer.’

‘If you’re sure.’

She sensed his anxiety and smiled at him. ‘Really, I’m OK. And don’t mention the photograph to anyone, will you? It’s just a private thing.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Honestly. I promise I’ll phone you if I have a problem or need to talk.’

‘OK then,’ he said.

Later, Sophie said, ‘Why not come and have lunch with me since they’ll be away all day? Come early,’ and he agreed with deep secret pleasure.

Now, he glances sideways briefly at Guy. ‘So are you planning to see Gemma at all?’ he asks lightly.

‘Of course I am,’ answers Guy irritably. ‘What d’you think I am? I’m picking her up from Debbie’s tomorrow evening. They’re off to the theatre tonight. Debbie’s booked tickets and Gemma doesn’t want to cancel.’

Oliver’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘You’ve spoken to her?’

He feels rather than sees Guy’s withering look. ‘Of course I’ve spoken to her. What did you expect?’

Oliver finds that he has no answer to this and remains silent.

‘I was a bit worried when Johnnie said we’d have to come back in on the tide but he thinks we’ll be in by about seven. Plenty of time to drive over to Brent.’

‘And then…?’ Oliver hesitates. ‘Shall you both go back to the Rectory? Or will you bring her to Chapel Street?’

‘For God’s sake!’ Guy gives an explosive snort of amused contempt. ‘Are you kidding! Gemma’s booking us into a little hotel we both like near Dartmouth.’

Oliver laughs. ‘I think I’ve underestimated you.’

‘Yes,’ says Guy drily. ‘I expect you have.’

‘And don’t tell me: you’ve also arranged to go to Mount House to see the twins.’

‘Gemma was going to sort something out for the weekend. It’s a Sunday out. But Jess was saying that there’s a home rugby match on Saturday afternoon. Will – is his name, Will? – is playing so she and Sophie and Johnnie are going to support him. I thought we’d make up a little party. I’d like Gemma to meet them all.’ He pauses. ‘Perhaps you’d like to come, too,’ he says offhandedly. ‘Since you’re the great benefactor, so to speak.’

‘Thank you,’ says Oliver humbly. ‘I should love to.’

*   *   *

When Oliver arrives the next day he knocks on the back door, which is open, and goes in. He calls ‘Hello’ and finds Sophie in the kitchen with a very good-looking man. They are sharing a joke, very much at ease, and Oliver is surprised at his instinctively hostile reaction.

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘You didn’t hear me knock.’

‘Oh, hello, Oliver,’ says Sophie, still laughing at the joke. ‘Come on in. This is Freddy. Freddy Grenvile. He lives across the river in Cargreen. This is Oliver Wivenhoe, Fred.’

‘I’m sure we must have met,’ Freddy says, taking Oliver’s outstretched hand. ‘Tom and I are old oppos. How’s your gorgeous mother?’

And now, shaking his hand, Oliver can see that indeed this fellow is much older than he first thought. His hostility vanishes though he remains aware of Freddy’s vitality and charm.

‘I came over to see why I’d been left out of the boating party,’ he’s saying. ‘I just happened to see Alice going downriver while I was having breakfast and I wondered who her crew was.’

‘What he means is,’ says Sophie, ‘he was peering through his binoculars as usual and he didn’t recognize Guy. He’s a terribly nosy man, I warn you.’

Freddy laughs. ‘I admit I was curious.’

‘I’ve been telling him about Jess,’ says Sophie, pouring coffee for Oliver. ‘One way and another he keeps missing meeting her so I’ve been satisfying his insatiable curiosity. And then I was explaining about Guy.’

‘I remember Kate, of course,’ says Freddy. ‘But I’d rather lost the plot with the next generation. It’s getting to be a real blast from the past, isn’t it?’

‘You could come to lunch tomorrow and meet Jess properly,’ Sophie suggests.

‘Didn’t I tell you I’m off to the States?’ he asks, finishing off his coffee, putting down his mug. ‘I’m going to catch up with a very old friend. I thought you knew. I told Johnnie ages ago.’

‘You didn’t tell me. And Johnnie didn’t say anything about it. Perhaps he’s just been taken up a bit with Jess.’

She looks very slightly put out and Oliver sees that Freddy feels uncomfortable.

‘Come with me,’ he says dramatically. He puts his hand to his heart. ‘Fly with me, Sophes.’

She begins to laugh. ‘And wouldn’t you be horrified if I said “Yes”? You’d better get going before the tide drops any more or you really will be up the creek without a paddle.’

Freddy grins at Oliver. ‘She’s such a prosaic woman,’ he says. ‘No sense of romance. We shall meet again, Oliver. I gather there’s going to be a reunion supper for young Jess. Tell Tom and Cass I’m looking forward to seeing them. It’s been too long.’

They follow him into the passage and he goes out, raising a hand, closing the back door behind him, and Sophie and Oliver look at each other.

‘You’d never want to leave this place, would you?’ he asks softly. ‘You are so much a part of it; of all these people.’

She looks startled; almost alarmed. ‘They’re my family,’ she begins, uncertainly – and then, suddenly, a bell begins ringing insistently from somewhere in the house. Sophie gives a little exclamation that is partly exasperation, partly relief.

‘Rowena,’ she says, resigned. She pauses for a moment, and then says, ‘Come and meet her.’

It is Oliver’s turn to look startled and alarmed. ‘Won’t she be a bit surprised?’ he asks. ‘I mean, she doesn’t know me.’

‘She can recall Tom and she’s heard that you’re coming to the reunion supper. Come on. It’ll cheer her up. But remember she’s very weak and her brain wanders a bit at the moment. She’s sharp for a while and then she completely loses it. She’s on a lot of medication.’

They go together up the wide curving staircase and along the landing. The bell has stopped ringing now. Outside one of the doors, Sophie pauses.

‘Wait,’ she says quietly. ‘I’ll call you.’

Oliver stands at the landing window, looking across the river to the hills opposite, where a tractor is ploughing, followed by a cloud of seagulls who swoop and turn above the fresh-turned earth. A small dinghy glides out from Johnnie’s slip, a figure at the oars pulling strongly across the river: Freddy rowing home.

‘She’d like to see you,’ says Sophie from behind him, and Oliver turns and follows her into the room. ‘I’m afraid she’s just a tad confused but never mind. Go with the flow.’

The old woman is propped about with pillows; her small face turned eagerly towards the door. Beside her, under the quilt, Popps stirs about and growls softly. Rowena shushes her, smoothing the rough head, and Popps subsides again.

‘This is Oliver,’ Sophie says. ‘Tom’s son. You remember Tom, Rowena? Johnnie’s friend.’

Rowena’s gaze is keen and fierce and she holds his hand tightly in her little claw; her rings dig into his fingers.

‘Sit down,’ she mutters. ‘Do you know Al?’

He shakes his head and sits down on the chair pulled up close to the bed, still holding her hand. ‘My father, Tom,’ he says carefully, ‘is Johnnie’s friend.’

‘Johnnie?’ She frowns, closes her eyes, but she still holds tightly to his hand. ‘Juliet has come back,’ she says clearly. ‘Juliet.’ Her eyes are open again, watching him. ‘Do you know Juliet?’

He hesitates and looks at Sophie, who makes a little face then shrugs and nods.

‘Juliet,’ he says, as if agreeing with Rowena. ‘And Jess,’ he adds, unwilling to lie outright. He remembers his conversation with Jess and feels uncomfortable. These are not just the woolly wanderings of a confused mind; there is something very important here though he cannot guess what it is.

‘Freddy’s just been to see us,’ Sophie says cheerfully, coming closer, bending over the bed. ‘He was sorry not to go out sailing with Johnnie and Jess.’

‘Freddy and John,’ says Rowena. Unexpectedly she laughs and Oliver has a glimpse of what an attractive woman she must have been. ‘Johnnie and Fred. Freddy and John. They were inseparable, you see. But they weren’t naughty. Not like Al and Mike.’ She lets go of his hand suddenly and her head turns towards the door; she is listening intently, as if she is expecting someone. ‘Juliet has come back,’ she says softly; she puts a finger to her withered, shrunken lips. ‘Is Al coming too?’

Oliver’s eyes slide round to meet Sophie’s and she bites her lip and very slightly shakes her head.

‘Not yet,’ she answers. ‘Come now, Rowena. It’s time for your medicine. Oliver has to go.’

He stands up thankfully, and the old woman stares up at him.

‘Goodbye,’ he says. He doesn’t quite know how to leave her but Sophie gently pushes him away and he goes out onto the landing, standing at the window and taking a deep breath of relief. Rowena’s confused intensity and her frailty and vulnerability have shaken him. He remembers how she laughed and how, suddenly, he saw a glimpse of a young, vitally attractive woman. How terrible for such a personality to be old; reliant and helpless.

Sophie comes out of the room, shuts the door and crosses the landing to stand beside him at the window. He draws her to him, puts his arms round her and kisses her. She responds readily, warmly, but when they draw apart she looks up at him questioningly, eyebrows quirked.

‘Just because we’re young, and we’re strong, and we can,’ he answers, and they go downstairs together with his arm still holding her close at his side.

*   *   *

They sit together at the kitchen table, the coffee pot between them.

‘I hate seeing her like that,’ says Sophie. ‘It’s just so not Rowena.’

‘It’s a bit weird, the Juliet thing, isn’t it?’

‘From what everyone says Jess is an absolute ringer for her grandmother and I think it’s completely thrown Rowena.’

‘It’s thrown my old pa as well. What’s this about Al?’

‘Jess has revived all the old memories. I think that, in her confused state, Rowena thinks that if Juliet has come back then Al might come too.’

Oliver thinks about Jess and the photograph.

‘So there was a little group of friends,’ he says carefully. ‘My father was Johnnie’s friend and Mike was Al’s. What was that about Freddy? Is that the Freddy I met earlier?’

Sophie nods, cradling her mug of coffee in both hands.

‘Johnnie and Freddy were the younger ones. Al and Mike were the top dogs. There were a couple of others. They all trained at Dartmouth together. Your father was one of them, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes. Al and Mike were a couple of years senior but they all seemed to hang out together. I just wondered who the others were.’

She looks at him curiously. ‘Why?’

He remembers his promise to Jess; shrugs. ‘Oh, just trying to get the whole picture.’

Sophie puts down her mug. ‘I feel there’s something going on. It started when Rowena first knew that Jess was coming to visit. She began to get out all the photographs.’

‘Photographs?’

‘She’s got hundreds of them. We’d begun to sort them out a while back when Johnnie started to write his history of the family, about his merchant forebears and the sailing ships that used to come right up the river. And then his grandfather was a very keen sailor and raced in the America’s Cup. He had some amazing boats. The Alice was one of them, built specially for him in 1908. So there were all those photographs to be sorted for the book, and then Rowena began to make a collection of the family ones. When she knew that Jess was coming she got very excited and put them all out in the morning-room. She wanted to show Jess what it had been like in the sixties when her grandparents had been here as young people. There were parties in the sea garden, and the boys when young and in uniform, and girls in ball gowns and stuff like that.’

‘And this worried you?’

Sophie frowns. ‘Rowena was so intense about it all. I couldn’t quite see why this girl was stirring up so much passion in her. Yes, of course it’s fun to see an old friend’s granddaughter, and all that, but Rowena hadn’t seen Juliet or Mike for forty-odd years and, as far as I know, there hadn’t been any contact. It puzzled me.’

‘Was Johnnie surprised?’

‘Oh, you know Johnnie. Everyone’s welcome and it’s all great fun. I mentioned it to him but he simply said that it was a chance for Rowena to talk about Al. He was her blue-eyed boy, the favourite, and she never got over his death. Apparently Al fancied Juliet and was furious that Mike got there first, so it seemed a bit odd that Rowena remembered her with such affection. I talked to Fred about it too, but he agreed with Johnnie. So that was fine – but then there was the angina attack.’

‘And what do you think now?’

Sophie shrugs. ‘I don’t know what to think. Rowena was showing Jess the photographs when she had the attack. Jess was very upset, of course. She had no idea that her appearance would cause such consternation. She said that when she saw the photograph of Juliet at the same age she was completely taken aback but she could at least see why everyone was reacting the way they were.’

‘So the impression is that this shock has swung Rowena off balance and back into the past.’

‘I think so. I think that looking at the photographs with Jess, thinking about Al, caused the attack. The trouble is, each one she has weakens her. She’s got several other health problems so it’s a worry. Poor Jess feels in some way responsible, though it’s not her fault.’

‘Yet she wants to stay.’

‘She loves it here. To be honest, I think she’s a bit shell-shocked by it all, but she loves Johnnie and Will, and she’s doing some work as well, she says. Are you worried about her?’

‘Only that with Kate down in Cornwall I’ve been left a bit in loco parentis, but Jess is old enough to take care of herself. Anyway, I’ve got to go upcountry for a few days soon to some meetings so I’m glad she’ll be here with you rather than in Chapel Street on her own or with Guy. Who, along with my sister and their twin boys, is a completely different kind of complication.’

She looks at him sympathetically. ‘You seem to take your uncle role very seriously. What’s Guy’s problem?’

Oliver groans. ‘How long have you got?’ he asks.

*   *   *

When Oliver has gone, Sophie goes out across the lawn to the sea garden and stands leaning against the balustrade. Circe towers above her, watching for the Alice to return.

Sophie feels almost as confused as poor old Rowena up in her bedroom. She hasn’t expected to feel like this again; unreasonably happy, missing him already. The world is looking rather sparkly, new-rinsed specially for her, and little brightly coloured sails flash to and fro across the shining water beneath the two graceful bridges. At the edge of the sea garden the elegant acer trees gently shed their leaves, yellow and crimson, and orange spindleberries are vivid in the hedges.

Sophie’s heart is filled with joy at this beauty, which seems to be totally at one with the warmth of the love she is experiencing. At the same time she can’t quite see the future.

‘You’d never want to leave this place,’ Oliver said. ‘You are so much a part of all these people.’

And it’s true. How could she leave them – Rowena, Johnnie, little Will – to fend for themselves?

People are leaving their families all the time, she tells herself. And the families manage; find other people to help them. She puts out a hand to touch the wooden folds and pleats of Circe’s dark red skirt. Johnnie had her repainted last year; shiny black coils of hair, scarlet smiling lips, blue and white bodice. Sophie looks up at her; she’d miss Circe, and sailing with Johnnie and Fred, and Christmases here on the Tamar with Louisa and all the family.

Suddenly, now that Oliver is not near her, she is filled with panic. She wonders if she’s imagined the whole thing and if he’s merely been chatting her up. She recalls each moment of their meeting: remembers that sense of familiarity and ease combined with a happy excitement that she’s never experienced before. When he kissed her outside Rowena’s room she’d known for certain then. Kisses are so important, so revealing.

Sophie smiles to herself; confidence returns at the memory of that kiss. She approves of Oliver’s compassion. She likes it that he was moved by Rowena’s helplessness; that he’s worried about his sister and Guy, and about Jess. He will understand that she cannot simply turn her back on the Trehearnes and together they will sort something out.

She gives Circe a final pat and goes back across the lawn to make Rowena a cup of tea.

*   *   *

The sailors return, happy and tired. Alice is back on her mooring and Guy says hurried farewells, drives away in his hired car.

‘He’s nice,’ Jess says at supper. ‘He seems a bit formidable at first, not very forthcoming, but he’s so passionate about boats. It’s rather sweet, really, like Will with his Heron.’

‘Passion is so attractive, isn’t it?’ Johnnie glances at Sophie and is amused, and slightly surprised, to see a flush of colour wash over her cheeks. He’s been aware of the attraction between her and Oliver but hadn’t realized how serious it might be. ‘It’s like Jess here,’ he goes on, not wanting to embarrass Sophie, ‘with her painting and drawing. Because she is passionate about it she infects other people with that passion.’

‘Gosh! Do I?’ It’s Jess who is embarrassed now. ‘I hope I don’t go on about it.’

‘Of course you don’t,’ says Sophie quickly, cross with herself for blushing. ‘No more than Guy does with his boats. I agree with Johnnie, he comes alive with it, doesn’t he? I think he could have spent hours in the Growlery looking at those old photographs. He was fascinated by your book.’

‘He’s a first-rate sailor and he’s got some very good ideas about classic boat sailing,’ says Johnnie thoughtfully. ‘Taking people to sea simply for the experience or on training courses. He’s been trying to persuade his father to back it out in Canada.’

‘I think,’ says Sophie, standing up and piling plates together, ‘that Guy’s family is hoping that he’ll move back.’

‘Yes,’ says Jess, getting up to help. ‘His wife is back already and his boys are at Mount House. We’re meeting up at the rugger match on Saturday.’

‘Yes, he told me. I didn’t quite get it,’ says Johnnie. ‘I assumed the boys had come back to go to school and that Gemma was returning to Canada once they were settled. Guy was at Mount House, wasn’t he?’

‘And Oliver,’ murmurs Sophie. She has that foolish need to say his name aloud. ‘And his brother,’ she adds quickly.

Johnnie watches her speculatively: she’s got it bad, poor old Sophes.

‘Will is looking after them,’ says Jess. ‘Guy’s boys, I mean. Ben and Julian.’

‘So Guy’s wife,’ says Johnnie, who wants to get his facts straight, ‘has moved back permanently?’

Sophie and Jess glance at each other, wondering which one of them has the most reliable information.

‘Gemma is Oliver’s sister,’ says Sophie. ‘You probably gathered that. Oliver says that Gemma’s missing her family and friends and that Guy’s father is a rather difficult man. He’s not giving poor old Guy much leeway and Guy’s very frustrated. They have lots of rows and Gemma doesn’t like it. She’s come back with the boys and is hoping that Guy will follow, though neither of them knows quite what Guy would do to earn a living.’

Jess puts some cheese on the table, glad that she hasn’t been called upon to explain the situation. She isn’t sure that she’s qualified to explain to Johnnie the things that Kate has told her. Clearly Sophie doesn’t think that Guy’s private life is a secret.

‘He told me he used to run a yacht brokerage,’ Johnnie says. He cuts a piece of cheese, looking preoccupied.

‘That’s right,’ says Sophie, putting biscuits and fruit beside him. ‘But I think Guy’s a bit more ambitious than that now.’

He looks up at her. ‘Mmm,’ he says vaguely. ‘That wouldn’t surprise me.’

*   *   *

‘So you approve of Oliver?’ asks Jess.

She and Sophie are clearing up together; Johnnie has gone into the Growlery to check emails and put in some work on the book. Sophie’s reaction to Oliver has begun to penetrate Jess’s preoccupation and she is surprised how pleased she is at the prospect of Sophie and Oliver getting together.

‘I do, rather,’ says Sophie, back turned as she stacks the dishwasher. ‘You don’t mind?’

Jess snorts with laughter. ‘Of course I don’t. I like him, too. To be honest, I rather fancy him. Why wouldn’t I? He’s really good-looking and such fun, and there’s something … well, I don’t quite know how to put it. Reliable isn’t right. It makes him sound a bit boring, doesn’t it?’

‘I know what you mean, though,’ says Sophie. She turns round, quite composed now, enjoying the opportunity to talk about him. ‘He’d get you out of a fix. He might not be able to actually deal with it himself but he’d always know a man who could.’

‘Yes,’ says Jess. ‘That’s absolutely it. He’s really with it.’

She longs to probe and question but she restrains the desire to know more.

‘It’s a bit tricky, though,’ says Sophie. It’s rather a luxury to have another woman to chat things over with; a change from Johnnie and Fred. ‘I mean, I can’t quite see how we’d go forward.’

‘But you want to,’ says Jess quickly. She has an absolute longing for this to be a proper romance. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ says Sophie, after a moment. ‘I think I do. Weird, isn’t it?’

‘It’s wonderful,’ says Jess contentedly. ‘Love at first sight.’

‘I was a bit afraid that I was poaching,’ admits Sophie. ‘You seemed keen for him to come to the reunion supper and you talked about him quite a lot. And you’ve been a bit quiet lately, since Rowena showed you the photographs.’

It is Jess’s turn to be discomfited. ‘It’s only because Oliver is much younger than all the others,’ she explains quickly. ‘And I suppose I was a bit bowled over by him to begin with. I mean, he’s something, isn’t he? But it was never a serious crush. Honestly. I’m utterly thrilled that it’s happened to you and him. It’s another part of the story.’

‘Story?’

‘Well, like me winning the Award and meeting Kate, and Tom and Cass, and coming here to see where Mike and Juliet met. And then me looking so much like Juliet.’ She hesitates and gives an odd little sigh. ‘It’s been a terrific shock.’

‘And you’re part of the story?’

Jess nods. ‘I feel connected. I like it.’

But she looks rather forlorn and Sophie feels a little stab of anxiety; even fear.

‘It’ll be fun, won’t it?’ Jess is saying. ‘All of us going to the rugby match on Saturday. Like a big family.’

‘Yes,’ agrees Sophie.

She sees the connection between Jess and herself. The Trehearnes and their friends have become her family in a way her own relations never have. It seems as if it will be the same for Jess. They mustn’t allow her to drift away; she must continue to be part of the story.