Alan enclosed Kate’s hand in his. ‘You’ll be fine, Kate. You can do this,’ he whispered. The play was in progress. A castle scene had finished and the scenery was swiftly being changed for the market scene. ‘There will be lots of us on stage together.’
Her ‘big’ moment had nearly arrived and she was trembling a little. She squeezed back on his warm flesh, trying to ignore the jitters in her tummy. Her peasant’s costume covered her feet but she wasn’t too bothered about her limp. Alan had persuaded her not to duck out of the play. ‘Don’t let them win, Kate,’ he’d said. ‘Your family, or Denny. They’re not worth it and you are worth so much more. Believe it, believe in yourself. All of us who care about you do.’ It had taken an effort for her to reach this point, but here she was, thanks to Alan. She wouldn’t allow the past to keep its cruel grip on her life any more. Jonny would have said, ‘You have a future. Reach for it.’
‘Jill and Tom will be proud of you,’ Alan said. ‘I’m proud of you, Kate.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You’ll steal the show.’
‘No, I won’t,’ she laughed softly. ‘You have already and no one deserves it more.’
A minute later she was facing the seated villagers, with a laden straw basket on her hip. ‘Butter and cheese! The very finest!’ She’d done it, got her lines out. It was so much easier to repeat them and wander about, helping to make the scene look busy. Alan had been right, once her nerves had settled she got a wonderful high feeling, as if she could do anything in the world. She was eager to return to the stage when it was time for the archery scene.
At the final curtain call, to thunderous applause, Mr Trevean shouted out, ‘Well done, Kate! Good to see ’ee up there.’ Mr Trevean couldn’t have heard very much of the play, but it meant everything to her to receive his good wishes. Many others congratulated her that night. She was a full member of the village now.
Dear Jonny,
I hope you are well. Thanks for your message to me on Tom and Jill’s postcard. I’m glad you’re enjoying taking photos of those big lakes and hills.
It sounds really nice there. I go out riding a lot on Cully. The play went off well. I actually took a small part in it. I was so nervous at first but I really enjoyed it. It’s a pity you missed it. Anyway, you will be back for the wedding. It will be nice to see you again.
All the best, from Kate.
Jonny lay on his back in his hotel room re-reading the postcard he had received that morning. He had been hoping Kate would get hold of his address and write to him. It was just a few plain and simple words in her careful writing but as important to him as the breath in his body. It meant she was thinking about him. It was what he needed to ease him off to sleep after the day’s long trek capturing the magnificent scenery hereabouts. Wherever he went, on hillside or lake shore, he planned to take Kate some day. Aunt Em and Perry’s concerns for Kate were understandable, but he really had changed and he hoped they would see that.
He had shunned all female company here although there had been opportunities for casual sex on this trip. That sort of encounter meant nothing to him now. He had faced up to the seriousness of love. What he felt for Kate wasn’t just some temporary fancy. The old days of avoiding a lifetime’s commitment with a woman were over. He was pleased about it, relieved, and proud of it. He loved Kate with a force that threatened to consume him. He loved the very hint of her. He could take every single second apart and it was Kate who dominated each of them. From any distance he was able to picture her as if she was in his very presence. She was a living ghost who haunted him. When Kate was a little older, he prayed no one would object to him forming something strong and lasting and wonderful with her.
Tomorrow he would travel on to Lincolnshire and see Abbie, and Archie and Honor, the two close friends from his boyhood. Honor had seemed cautious over the telephone but had said they would be delighted to have him stay for a couple of days, and that Abbie was in much better health. Afterwards, it was back to Cornwall for Louisa’s wedding. And back to Kate.
The maid showed him into the drawing room at Oak Tree Warren. ‘I’ll fetch madam from the morning room, sir. Mr Rothwell is in the study.’
Jonny wandered about the long room, approving of its combination of antique seats, tables and paintings with modern lighting and sundries. He took interest in the sepia photographs of Victorian and Edwardian Rothwells. And a monochrome studio portrait of Archie as he’d never seen him before, in naval uniform, upright, vital and distinguished. He admired snaps of Abbie at various stages of growing up. There was a laughing depiction of her that he had taken himself on Perranporth beach, paddling on the shore, the wind in her hair. A free-spirited Abbie then, his lover for a while. How would he find her? He hoped they could resume their former easy friendship.
Hearing the approach of walking sticks he hurried to the door to see Archie. Honor was with him, his faithful and loving mate, guiding him by the elbow. Jonny’s intention to cast them an exuberant greeting died away. Seeing them both took him back to the days when he, as a four-year-old, had been wrested away from his mother, struggling to adapt to a new situation during the uncertainties of the Great War. Uncle Alec had seized him from his home and it had taken Jonny a while to realize it had been for the best; then Uncle Alec had become his mentor and his hero. For a second, part of him wanted those days again. He wanted not to see his old friend Archie ageing prematurely, stooped, breathing heavily, shaky on his war-ravaged feet and needing to sit down.
‘My dear boy,’ Archie said in a gasp. ‘I’ve seen photos of you over the years. It was easy to see you had grown into a fine young man, but you’re a sight above my expectations. Isn’t he, darling?’
‘He is indeed,’ Honor replied, her usual pacific smile in evidence. ‘Welcome to Oak Tree Warren, Jonny. Would you mind?’ She indicated the wheelchair kept in the hall.
‘Yes, of course.’ He found his voice and feet in a rush and manoeuvred the latest in wheeled conveyances for invalids so that Archie, with some help, could ease himself down in it. Now Archie’s hands were free Jonny grasped them firmly. ‘It’s so good to see you again. I wish I hadn’t taken so long in coming here. Honor, you look as lovely as ever. The years haven’t passed at all for you.’ It was only a slight exaggeration. Her hair was the same maiden-fair, her facial contours still firm, and wrinkles had kindly kept almost entirely at bay.
‘Coffee is on the way,’ Honor said lightly. ‘Shall we go in?’
Once they were settled in the morning room, Jonny asked, ‘Where’s Abbie? She is here? I’ve heard she doesn’t venture far.’
‘You heard right, Jonny,’ Honor replied, with a regretful sigh. She had folded her hands on her lap and neatly crossed her ankles. Jonny noticed an agitated working of her mouth and her fingertips pulling at her skirt. She shot a look at Archie.
‘Is something wrong?’ Jonny frowned. Recalling Honor’s edginess over the telephone yesterday, and now this, was there a reason they did not want him to see Abbie? Did Abbie not want to see him?
‘Abbie will be here any minute, Jonny,’ Archie said. ‘With her husband. Douglas Goodyear.’
‘Good heavens. Abbie married? That was a bit sudden, wasn’t it?’ Jonny scratched his forehead. This was the last thing he had expected.
‘The thing is—’ Honor’s words were cut off. Abbie arrived on Douglas’s arm. ‘Ah, there you both are.’ Honor went pink and shifted uncomfortably. ‘Jonny’s been here a few minutes. I’ve told him about the wedding.’
Jonny was sure there was more to it. He went to Abbie. She was pale and thin and looked tired. She was wearing a loose dress and cardigan. Should he kiss her cheek or merely shake her hand? Abbie made the decision for him by sticking out her hand. Jonny felt her cold fingers quivering inside his for just a moment. Douglas shook his hand briskly, his salutation on the same brief note. ‘Congratulations on your marriage.’ Jonny couldn’t make his voice bright, it was all too strange.
The coffee was brought in. Honor poured, and while it was handed round there was a tense silence. It was drunk amid awkward small talk, in which only those at Ford Farm were mentioned.
Then Archie cleared his throat in a rumble. ‘I think you should tell Jonny the rest of your news, Abbie.’
‘Oh, what’s that?’ Jonny asked coolly. What was going on? The atmosphere was heavy. He felt he wasn’t really welcome and that the others were, in some peculiar way, wary of him. He was longing to slip outside for a cigarette.
Abbie glanced at her mother, then her father and then Douglas, before gazing levelly at Jonny. ‘Douglas and I were married quickly, just a quiet affair with few guests, because I’m having a baby.’
His immediate inner reaction was, Well, you don’t hang around. He said, ‘Well, this is a surprise. Congratulations again. Good luck to you both.’ He saw Abbie bring her hands towards her middle in what seemed a furtive movement. The air was tight with tension. Something was going on, he was certain.
He stared at Abbie and her paleness pinked up considerably. ‘I’m about five months along. I was seeing Douglas before I went down to Cornwall. Luckily, my ordeal didn’t hurt the baby.’
‘Oh. Yes. You were lucky,’ Jonny agreed. So this was the reason why everyone seemed cagey. They were all embarrassed by the quick wedding. But it was an unnecessary reaction as far as he was concerned. They must know he wouldn’t take a high moral stance. ‘Well, that’s really good news, isn’t it? A baby?’ The uneasy silence continued. ‘Isn’t it? Is there something else?’
‘No, of course not,’ Abbie said, fiddling with the buttons on her cardigan.
‘We’re all quite pleased in the circumstances,’ Honor said, smiling.
Smiling far too wide, Jonny decided. He glanced at Archie, who dropped his head and shook it a little. And Jonny cottoned on to the truth of this odd situation. He was being deliberately lied to, by prior agreement, and Archie was the only one who had wanted the truth revealed. He shot to his feet, propelled by shock and anger. ‘I’m not stupid, Abbie! It’s not Goodyear’s baby you’re carrying, is it? It’s mine! How dare you lie to me? I’ve got the right to know that it’s my child. I had the right to know about it before you rushed off and got married.’
He expected anything but the reaction he got. Abbie viewed him, as cool as an autumn stream and as remote as a distant hill. ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you the truth, but I don’t think I really I owe you anything and nor does my baby. You’ve never wanted a wife or a child, Jonny. There was no reason to expect you to change your mind for me. You wouldn’t want to marry me, admit it. You’ve slept with so many women you’ve probably got children all over the place. I don’t suppose you’ve ever looked back to see if you’ve left any behind. The day that I learned I was pregnant Douglas offered me marriage. I accepted at once. He will make the perfect father for my child. Douglas and I care about each other, we are confident we can make our marriage work. In fact, we’re all leaving here to live together abroad, in Monte Carlo, while Father can still bear the travel. The hotter climate will suit his chest. Douglas is selling his shares in the family business and a cousin of mine is to take over Oak Tree Warren. We’re all starting afresh. There’s nothing else to say.’
‘Isn’t there?’ Jonny was confounded by the finality of her words but he had more demands. ‘How am I to keep contact with my child?’
‘You’re not.’ She kept up her unwavering gaze. ‘I don’t want you to. It’s best if you just forget all about it.’
‘And how on earth am I supposed to do that? The fact remains that I’m going to be a father, for goodness sake!’
Jonny put his hand up to the back of his neck and shook his head in incredulity. ‘You’ve changed. How can you be so cold?’
‘Yes, I have changed, Jonny.’ Abbie showed a burst of emotion. ‘I had to fight for my life and I see things differently now. My priority is my child. I shall fight in whatever way I see fit to protect it. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it’s fair to him or her to be torn between two fathers. I’m sorry you’ve found out, Jonny. It wasn’t what I wanted.’
So am I! Jonny wanted to scream. Of course, he wouldn’t have wanted to marry Abbie. It probably wouldn’t have worked, especially with her now a distant stranger to him, and it would definitely have meant him having no chance with Kate. But he would have offered to do the decent thing by Abbie if she hadn’t decided to shut him out. It was a possibility that he had fathered a child before, but if so, he didn’t know about it. He knew about his son or daughter growing inside Abbie’s body and he hated the idea of being totally cut out of its life. He swallowed heavily. ‘I can see you’re determined. Can I at least know the date of its birth and whether it’s a boy or a girl?’
‘You can learn that when Mother writes in due course to your Aunt Emilia,’ Abbie replied. As if suddenly weary she bowed her head and seemed to shrink into the chair.
Jonny could see she wanted to forget all about her time in Cornwall. He felt drained, overcome by a terrible sense of loss. He was doomed to an empty ache in his heart while he wondered about his child for the remainder of his life. He turned to Honor. ‘You shouldn’t have let me come here. It would have been kinder…’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, barely able to meet his gaze.
‘We’re all very sorry, Jonny,’ Archie said, massaging his tight chest. ‘I don’t know what else to say.’
‘There is nothing anyone can say to put this right for me, Archie,’ Jonny murmured. ‘I’ve lost three friends and I’ve lost my child. All that is left for me to do is to leave straight away.’