I drove to Zennack in the morning. Daylight damages everything you think, it exposes one thought’s holes, another’s meaning. No meaning at all probably. As I was parking in the square, Mrs Bell came running with a message and a glint in her eye. ‘Her son rang,’ she puffed. ‘Come on. I’ll tell you.’ She led me to her house and sat me in the kitchen.
‘Elizabeth Green’s son?’
‘Yes. And he was quite charming.’ She poured two cups of tea. ‘He explained that his mother had a habit of… I can’t remember the exact expression, but freaking something. Like she becomes a freak?’
I shrugged.
‘And he was most apologetic. I was half expecting him to blame me.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘I don’t know. It was just a thought I had.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘Not much,’ and now Mrs Bell’s eyes widened and she gave me a huge smile. ‘Except that he’s coming down to fetch her.’
‘What?’ I felt my knees go.
‘Yes.’
‘When?’
Mrs Bell looked at her kitchen clock. ‘This afternoon.’
‘Today?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and my feet froze. ‘His name’s Jacob.’
‘I know. Elizabeth told me about him.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Enough,’ I said, and a silence settled between us. I looked out of the window and I knew that Mrs Bell’s eyes were on me. Her dog sat up and scratched. I watched Mr Dunn come from his yard and cross the square to the pub. He went inside and came out a minute later with a drink. He sat on one of the pavement benches, lit a cigarette, sipped and waved to a passing car.
‘I was thinking about what you said,’ said Mrs Bell. ‘About the cinema…’
‘Yes?’
‘Maybe we could go…’
‘I thought you didn’t think it would be a good idea.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She fidgeted with her collar. ‘It’s such a long time since I went out, and since my husband died I haven’t thought about that sort of thing. It was very kind of you to ask, and I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.’
‘Please…’
She put her hands on the table, took a deep breath and said, ‘I’d like to go to the cinema with you. We can take my car. I looked in the newspaper. You know what they’re showing?’
‘No.’
‘Raintown.’ She waited for my reaction. I gave nothing away. ‘She’s in it.’
‘I know.’
‘I would like to go. If your offer is still open…’
Mrs Bell was a very proper woman. In another life I could not have married her. We would not be growing old together. We would not be watching birds come to crusts on the lawn, or wondering about the weather. I did not want to ask her if she had a photograph of herself when she was twenty-one. I couldn’t imagine her moist. I said, ‘Of course it is. How about Saturday?’
‘This Saturday?’
‘Yes.’
She looked at me and I saw her thoughts in her face. Maybe she wanted to hold a man’s arm on a crowded street and enjoy a drink in a bar. She said, ‘I don’t know what it’ll be like.’
‘What?’
‘Raintown.’ She lowered her voice. ‘It does sound quite romantic.’
‘I’m sure we’ll enjoy it,’ I said, and the phone rang.
Mrs Bell went to answer it, but while she talked I didn’t think about going to the cinema. I didn’t remember how moist one woman was, and how another was dripping. I wanted to go home. I wanted to tell Elizabeth Green that her son was on his way but that I would stand up for her. I would say no to him and warn him off my property. She could stay at Port Juliet as long as she liked. I could plaster the bedroom and plumb in one of Mr Dunn’s special-offer shower units. I got up, and as I passed Mrs Bell in the hall, I whispered ‘Goodbye’ to her, and she put her hand over the mouthpiece and said, ‘I’m sorry. It’s a booking.’
‘I’ve got to go. Thanks for the tea.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she said, flustering and twirling the telephone cord.
‘Saturday. I’ll call for you.’
‘Oh.’ She almost dropped the phone. ‘Yes. If you’re sure…’
‘Saturday,’ I repeated, and I let myself out and crossed the square to the post office where I asked Mr Boundy for sixty cigarettes.
‘Still with you, then, is she?’ he said.
‘I don’t know,’ I said.
Boundy twitched his moustache and his right eye closed slightly. Mrs Boundy dropped something in the back room. He didn’t flinch. He put the cigarettes on the counter. ‘She must smoke like a chimney.’
‘Must she?’ I said, and I showed him my teeth. He backed off. ‘How much?’
‘Six ninety-six.’
I put the money down, collected my change and left the shop.
My tractor does about twenty miles an hour. I drove in fourth all the way, startling sheep in their fields and a man on his bicycle. As I slewed down the road to Port Juliet I saw Elizabeth sitting on the beach, and she waved when she saw me. Her hair was down and she had tied her scarf around her neck. I parked badly and went to meet her. ‘Your son’s coming to fetch you.’
‘When?’
‘This afternoon.’
She looked at her watch. ‘You’re kidding.’
I shook my head.
She stood up, walked towards me, stopped, walked back and turned to look at the sea. ‘How do you know?’
‘He phoned Mrs Bell.’
‘Mrs Bell?’
‘At the guest house. You stayed there…’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I remember.’
‘So I didn’t order the cab.’
‘Okay… This afternoon?’
‘Yes.’
She came to me now and said, ‘Let’s walk.’
We took the path away from the ruins, and as we climbed towards the point she took my arm. The sky was clear. She smoked. The wind was fresh and I felt anxious. I hadn’t felt anxious for years. I looked at my hands, and they were shaking. The touch of her fingers and everything; I took deep breaths and breathed the clouds of her cigarette smoke. The sea wound itself up below us. The sun was high, our shadows short, and the grass waved all around us. A rabbit crossed our path, and an old ewe watched us pass. ‘This is like a movie,’ she said.
‘Dangerous Brew,’ I said. ‘That was the first of yours I saw. I wanted to watch it for ever. I remember, it was like this. Like I want to see the world like this for ever.’
‘Yeah,’ she mumbled. ‘Exactly. Exactly what I thought. Exactly like Baja.’
‘What happened there?’
We reached the end of the path, and sat down on the slabs of rock that slope down to the point. ‘After the film wrapped I drove south, ended up staying in a hotel on the coast. Hotel… I’m not sure that’s the right word…’ and she stopped for a moment to watch a flight of gulls swoop towards the offshore stacks. ‘It looked derelict but the bar was stocked, and there were sheets on the bed. It was owned by an old army guy. Bob. He was like you.’
‘How?’
‘Big. Quiet.’ She looked at me and blew smoke. ‘Knew what he wanted to do. I booked in. The phone didn’t work, the water didn’t run but after a day I didn’t care, after two days I was loving it, after three I wanted to stay. Then I got scared.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I wanted to stay.’
‘Did you?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know why not.’
‘Okay.’
‘But I always regretted that decision. I was never very brave. I still wonder what would’ve happened. It’s what my mother did when she left this place. She cut all her ties. I wanted to do that but I couldn’t.’ She finished her cigarette and flicked the butt into the wind. ‘It’s still something I want to do.’ She looked back towards the ruins. ‘I want to learn how to grow vegetables.’
‘I’ve got the book you’ll need.’
She laughed and took my arm again. ‘That’s what I like about you, Michael. You’re practical…’
‘I have to be.’
‘But that doesn’t stop you thinking. It’s a rare combination. Bob had it. He made me think.’
‘Think as long as you want,’ I said, and I laid my hand on hers. ‘Stay as long as you want.’
‘Staying’s not as easy as thinking.’
‘Then don’t think about it.’
‘You’ve lost me.’
I said, ‘You could find yourself here.’
‘Now you sound like a Californian.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘And so are you,’ I said, meaning it, but the words were taken by the wind. Maybe she heard them, maybe she ignored them; whatever. She lit another cigarette and tipped her head back, and while I prayed so hard my lips moved, she closed her eyes to the day.