Hausmann arrived a week later. He appeared with Kitty, holding bread and milk under one arm and her ample shoulders in the other.
The weather had stayed warm – ‘mellow’, as Paula Anderson called it – and both Judith and Jack had revelled in it, working with a sense of joy they both recognized and appreciated from a long time ago. Paula had insisted that Judith’s painting of the south light should be the frontispiece for the new children’s book. ‘You need my text for the chapter-by-chapter illustrations,’ she pointed out. ‘And they won’t be ready for a few weeks yet. Plenty of time to complete your stunning sea and landscape. You are painting the place where it all happens. Puffins versus rats.’
Paula had talked of the time when Lundy had been taken over by pirates, and the terror they had spread up and down the coasts of Devon and Cornwall and even as far as Bristol itself.
‘The Puffies are in the same boat, their burrows invaded by rats. They have a meeting and decide to become pirates, and they recruit the gannets and the auks to help them.’ She spread her hands. ‘That’s all there is, really.’
She sounded deflated, but she had already inspired Judith.
‘I can see them!’ Judith enthused. ‘Their little parrot faces become suddenly stern and the black-and-white eyes full of cold menace! And the bit where the auks harry the rats into the sea and the gannets go for them! Great stuff!’
During almost ten days of ‘mellow fruitfulness’ while Jack worked with all his old intensity and Judith mixed her wonderful colours and painted with growing confidence, the mainland world slipped further into the background. It was difficult to realize that home was half an hour away by one of the new Freeman helicopters; almost impossible to imagine Len and Matthew already part of the team patrolling the motorways. Martha’s phone calls were reassuringly down-to-earth. ‘Judith, I’m really, really sorry … I broke that vase that is on the landing windowsill … can’t think how it happened … Len wants to know if he can borrow Jack’s navy-blue sweater … half-term is coming up, thank God …’
Judith said to Jack, ‘I am going to love that girl. She is sending sub-messages. I think they need us back home, Jack.’
Jack looked up. ‘We’re part of Lundy now.’
‘Not really. Winter is coming, and that is when Lundy can only manage to tolerate the non-migrants.’
He nodded. ‘I know. It’s just …’
She said, ‘We can do what we do anywhere, Jack. Anywhere at all. We’re together again. We’ve learned to dance.’
His face broke into a beam of delight. ‘We have, haven’t we?’
It was the next morning when Hausmann came in with Kitty. She stood just in front of him, almost protectively, then stepped aside as if revealing a surprise.
‘Look who is staying at the farm with Davey and me! Turned up last night just as the tide was starting to ebb – no phone call, nothing. Just the man himself, hungry as a horse.’
Jack went to him with all his old vigour and shook his shoulders. Kitty rescued the bread and milk and put them on the table. Judith stared, shocked by his jack-in-the-box arrival, but also because this man who she hardly knew was so familiar.
Jack said, ‘We’ve expected you every day since we arrived – knew you’d have to check on the tenants at some point!’
‘Oh, he’s checked all right!’ Kitty unloaded eggs from her pocket. ‘Phoned every day and wanted a call back if there was any change in Jack’s condition, and I mustn’t say a word because you needed peace, perfect peace!’ She sighed. ‘And now, here he is, so I s’ppose winter is just round the corner.’ She met Judith’s questioning glance and enlarged. ‘He spends most of the winter on the island. Painting like a demon.’
‘Ah. I didn’t know that.’ Judith met Robert’s dark, dark eyes over Jack’s shoulder and smiled gently. ‘Lundy offers peace with solitude. Western Australia only offered solitude.’
Robert cleared his throat and spoke. His voice was the same, deep and rough at the edges. ‘Not really. Australia was where I met another crazy man.’ He grinned at Jack. She could see their union of opposites. Dark and light.
She laughed. ‘Kitty, pass me two more mugs, can you? We need tea.’
They sat around the table talking for over an hour until David arrived, wanting to know what had happened to breakfast. So then Kitty and Judith scrambled eggs and made toast for all five of them while they put David into the picture.
He looked darkly at Robert. ‘I might have guessed it. Half-Jewish, half-Welshman. Trying to make real life look like one of your pictures. Course it’s all going to die away, that’s what it’s all about, you great lummock!’
Jack said, ‘All I know is he saved my life and arranged things so that Jude and I could … could—’
‘Learn how to dance,’ Judith supplied. She smiled again at Robert. ‘We think we’ve done it, Robert.’
He smiled back. ‘I thought you might.’ He turned to David Davies. ‘And you’re a fine one to talk, half-Welshman and half-sheer-Lundyite! You and Kitty have helped me out often enough, and enjoyed doing it! You said to me once that we were all put on this earth to help one another.’
‘I think I said we were put here to get on with it!’ David said sturdily.
Kitty nodded vigorously. ‘It’s what God says too, Davey. You didn’t invent that one!’
Jack clapped Robert on the shoulder. ‘You went a step further, then, Robert Hausmann! How often did you have to do the trip between Surrey and Cardiff?’
Robert suddenly grinned. ‘Not that often. Sybil admitted she had promoted her husband to some kind of wonder-man, and Nat thought she needed another year or two to get used to being without him.’ He turned to the Davieses. ‘Sybil lived in a house with Nathaniel Jones on one side, and my family on the other. She was very close to her father, and Nathaniel is like him. Gentle, formal in many ways.’ He turned to Jack. ‘You have no idea what Moss Jessup was like.’
Jack nodded. ‘Actually, Sybil wrote to Jude. And on the strength of that and other evidence, I am uncovering the hacking mole. His name, of course, is “Maurice the Mole”, and he is sort of Pickwickian in shape.’
Hausmann laughed. ‘Ridicule is a wonderful weapon. And if Sybil told Jude about him, then she obviously wants it to be used.’
Kitty said, ‘How exactly did you get Sybil and Nat together, then?’
‘She agreed to tell it to Nat just as she had told it to me. The whole story. It took time to persuade her. Even when she knew the contents of Jessup’s will, there was still this lingering feeling of loyalty.’ He shrugged. ‘Relationships. Difficult.’
David nodded vigorously, glanced at Kitty and growled, ‘I’ll say!’
And Kitty came back smartly, ‘Too right!’
Judith looked around the table, smiling, full of deep affection for these people. When she came to Jack, the affection welled up into all the old tenderness. And more. Was that possible? Could the pain of this past year be giving something back – something extra? Her gaze settled on Hausmann, and she realized he was watching her.
She shook her head gently at Kitty and said, ‘Worth all the effort, though. Yes, Kitty?’
And Kitty’s face, so like a russet apple, creased into a grin as she repeated, ‘Too right!’
Eventually David mentioned he had a farm to run, and Kitty remembered she was preparing cold lunches at the hotel. Hausmann, it seemed, had already offered to work in the garden. ‘He always sorts out the garden about this time of year.’ Kitty touched his arm gratefully. ‘Makes a bit of room for the winter stuff, stores enough potatoes for winter, that kind of thing. He’s a good lad.’
Hausmann barked a laugh, and for an instant Judith could see how he had looked when he was indeed ‘a lad’. She had thought of him as being in Jack’s age bracket, but of course he was younger, about the same age as Sybil; therefore so was Nathaniel – they had played together as children. It made his restless energy seem different; more youthful, an eagerness to help rather than to control.
She grinned at him, and then turned to Jack. ‘Let’s all have dinner together tonight, shall we? You could join us, couldn’t you, Kitty?’
‘I certainly could – that lummocky boy from over Exeter way can finish off the desserts for me – give him something else to grumble about!’
After they had gone, Jack put away the crockery and cutlery – each piece in its proper place – and she cleaned the table ready for him to spread his work out at one end. Len phoned Jack from the hangar at Filton to tell him where he and Matt would be that day. Apparently, Martha had started her half-term holiday and was looking at the cottage on the Somerset Levels. The owners were considering the offer Matt and Martha had made them, and had left a key with the neighbours in case she wanted to do some measuring for furniture.
‘Sounds as if they intend to accept the offer,’ Jack relayed to Judith.
Judith said guiltily, ‘I’d forgotten all about it. And I’d also forgotten about half-term! Lundy really has got inside us, Jack.’
Jack nodded. ‘That’s why Paula can write her stories here. She turns the clock back, closes her eyes and she’s away!’
‘Literally with the fairies!’ They laughed as if it were a joke.
‘Actually …’ Judith was assembling her painting gear at the other end of the table, ‘… I’m beginning to look forward to seeing everyone again. Len and Matt, and Martha of course. But Sybil and Nathaniel as well. And Beattie McCready – Arnold’s wife. I meant to ring her before we came here, and never did. And Bart and Irena, too.’
‘Who on earth are Bart and Irena?’
‘Robert’s brother and his wife.’
‘Of course. Robert bought the lease on Castle Dove for them, didn’t he? She disapproves of him.’
‘He was drinking every night … he was disrupting her dream of a perfect hotel. But at some level or other, she is fond of him. And he of her. And he is close to his brother.’
‘Like Len and me. I’m looking forward to seeing Len.’
She came round the table to kiss him. She said, ‘I love you. Don’t work too hard, just let it happen.’
‘That’s what is so good. It is just happening.’ He smiled. ‘Are you going to our rock corner? Will you be warm enough?’
‘Yes. And another yes.’ She held the door against a sudden gust of wind. ‘I suppose our meal tonight is a farewell dinner?’
‘Not in any sad sense, Jude. It’s a celebration.’ He tipped his chair back and waved his left hand in the air. ‘We can dance together really well – but only two can tango. Now we’re going to join the others. A sort of maypole effort.’
She saw the smile lurking on his face, and said, ‘If I had anything in my hands besides my painting stuff I would now hurl it at you! See you soon!’ And she let the door close sharply behind her and crouched below the level of the combe as she made for their first viewpoint of Lundy.
She worked until the sun clouded over and the wind stiffened her fingers. The clouds were most definitely scudding over her head from the Atlantic rollers. She thought about that word ‘scudding’. It was exactly what clouds did – she must mention it to Paula. The Puffies would know all about scudding clouds; they became part of the ‘scud’, beating their small wings against it as they dropped into the sea for a mouthful of fish. Slowly she packed her things away and pushed herself upright, ready to leave. And there, waiting for her to finish, was Hausmann.
She was not surprised to see him; something had been missing from the afternoon. She wondered why he was there; how long he had been there; whether she had been talking aloud to herself.
He came closer; he had the hood of his enormous parka over his head, and the wind was flattening one side over his ear and hiding his face.
‘Jack was worried – apparently you never wear your watch – he’s making tea.’
She braced her knee against the rock face and wrestled her canvas bag over her shoulders. Then she smiled at the enigmatic face, so full of secrets.
She said simply, ‘Oh, Robert. What would we have done without you?’
She walked to him, put her head on his chest and wrapped her arms as far around the bulk of him as they would go. He became very still.
She said, ‘I love you too, Robert.’
His arms encircled her; she felt his face against the top of her head, she was inside the hood of his parka; she realized how cold she had become, because she was suddenly so warm, so protected.
She said, ‘I should have said it that day … in the road … I’m sorry.’
His voice was inside her ear. ‘I knew. I knew before we met that night at Castle Dove. You were part of Jack, and Jack loved me. It was logical.’
She moved so that she was speaking into his ear. ‘It took me some time, Robert Hausmann!’
‘Aah. Jude the very obscure.’ She felt his laughter in her own body, and closed her eyes, letting the essence of him flow through her. She took a deep breath, knowing suddenly what she must say.
‘Listen, Robert. I think … I know … what you must do. You must paint all those people. In the camps. The ones who come to you at night and demand recognition.’ She felt his body jerk and held herself to him very tightly. ‘Don’t you dare move away from me! You must do it. Because you will discover other things besides pain. You will discover something else … something good … Robert, listen … please …’
He twisted her suddenly and stopped her words with his mouth. It was scarcely a kiss; it was a protest and an angry protest. When he drew away her whole face felt sore. He held her as if he knew she would fall without him.
She gave a small sob and he began to babble an apology. She slid her hands from his waist to his shoulders and then his neck and face. Slowly she drew him free of his hood and down towards her, and very gently and tenderly she kissed him.
She whispered, ‘Stop apologizing. Remember that the only thing we can share is honesty. And that is because of this love we have. Jack and I love you. And you love Jack and me!’ She snuffled a laugh. Her face was wet, and the tears were not hers. ‘Come on. There’s rain in that wind. We need tea and Welsh cakes.’
He let her push him round, and they both began the descent to the edge of the combe. When they could see the roof of the cottage, he stopped and stared down to the beach far below them. She saw the hull of his boat pulled up out of reach of the tide.
He said, ‘Jude, I think I should go. Now. Before this wind works itself into the sort of storm we had last month.’
She gave a small cry of protest. ‘Oh, Robert – please! Is this because I said … what I said?’
‘I don’t know. If it is, then it’s not driving me away from you and Jack, it’s urging me to go on. Shine a light into all that darkness? Learn to dance?’ He drew her down into the heather. ‘I have done some work on the Holocaust, Jude. I always end up at some pub, trying to forget it.’
‘Is that how it was that first night at Castle Dove?’
‘Yes. Worse still when I was in Australia.’ He looked sideways at her. His hair, free of the hood, was on end. ‘Then there was Jack. And then there was you. Esmée. Nat. God – Bart and Irena too.’ He snorted a laugh. ‘And then that crazy couple in the orangery.’ He took her hand and gripped it hard. ‘It all meant something, Jude. Are all of us learning to dance? Is that why I’ve come back to the castle and my studio and those drawings?’
He waited for an answer and she said in a small voice, ‘Oh, Robert. I don’t know.’
‘Of course you don’t! And neither do I – and I thought I did, I’ve always thought I knew how to live. The places I must avoid, the people I must stay away from. And then … my God, I sent invitations to Esmée and Nat like some ridiculous matchmaker! And you turned up too! It was frightening. You were so ordinary, so practical, and yet – Jude, that bloody nightie, I have to tell you it was completely see-through!’ She started to laugh. He went on, ‘I never thought you’d manage the Exmoor trek – my famous trek when everyone was so exhausted they would show their true colours!’ He laughed too.
She said, ‘Well, it worked, didn’t it? Robert, none of this means you have to leave now. Surely?’
He shook her hand and let his laughter die into a smile. ‘I haven’t told you. I’ve left Nat and Esmée – or Sybil or whatever she calls herself now – at the castle. They wanted to come, but I talked them out of it.’ His smile widened to a grin. ‘I need to keep an eye on them!’
Judith stared back at him. She said, ‘I can’t keep up with you – you are the most volatile person I have ever met. All I can say is – tea and Welsh cakes are obligatory. How does that sound?’
He pretended to give the question his full consideration. Then he nodded. ‘Perfect,’ he said. And he enveloped her in a bear hug.
It was as if Jack knew what had been said. The tea was made, the Welsh cakes lay in the griddle, and they sat around eating and drinking as if they had the rest of the afternoon and all the evening together. When Robert suggested that the two of them should come with him to help launch the boat, Jack nodded immediately.
‘Changed your mind about the dinner party?’ It was more of a comment than a question.
Robert grinned again; there was an assurance in that grin.
‘Things to do,’ he said.
They trooped down the long combe to the beach. Two fishing boats were arriving, and Robert helped to pull them in and then recruited more help with his bigger boat. Judith and Jack stood back watching as he scrambled into the small well and started the engine, then grabbed the tiller.
Jack said into her ear, ‘I couldn’t have been completely unconscious the last time I was here – I remember David Davies and Matt lifting me under the canopy.’
‘Oh, my love …’ Judith hugged his arm to her side, reliving her own memories of that time and realizing how close they had come to disaster.
Robert waved and called something, and then the tough little boat got under way and began the short trip to the mainland, and Jack and Judith started the climb back up the combe, pausing now and then to look out to sea and wave. Below them on the beach the fishermen were unloading lobster pots. Above them smoke came from the chimney of the hotel.
Jack said, ‘I think we should go home too. Soon.’
‘Let’s leave it with Matt and Len.’
‘Sounds sensible.’
They paused to get breath. The wind had been minimal on the beach, but already the stronger gusts were bending the trees and the few birds which had ventured from their cliffs were being blown about the sky like rags.
He said, ‘Could be that we have to wait for the weather. A day or two, perhaps. It will give us time to clear up properly. I’ll have a go at some of the wood. There’s a chainsaw in the lean-to.’
She did not ask whether his strength was up to such physical labour. She hugged his arm again. ‘Good thinking. I’ll do a clean-up indoors.’
He put his head against hers. ‘We’re going to be all right, Jude.’ It was a statement, but then he added a question. ‘Aren’t we?’
She answered in her most matter-of-fact voice. ‘I remember, in Paris, your … your sudden diffidence – yes, that is what it was, diffidence – somehow made me feel very secure, very safe.’ She rubbed her head against his. ‘I feel it now.’
He held her close. She knew he was weeping, just as he had done then.
She kissed him. ‘I love you, Jack. But more than that. We really are two parts of a whole.’
‘Yes.’ He steadied his voice. ‘That’s it. Exactly.’ He kissed her hair. ‘Robert said something similar.’
She nodded. ‘Come on. By the time we’ve washed and changed it will be time to meet the others.’
‘Yes. Pity that Paula won’t meet Robert. There are similarities there. She deals with her demons differently, but she has them.’
They fell into step as they turned on to the track leading to the cottage.
She said, surprised, ‘You think so? We only talk of the book.’
‘Her childhood was cut off when her parents were killed in that air crash. D’you remember? I think it was seventy-three or four. A plane-load of people visiting graves in Germany? Charter flight?’
‘Oh, how awful. She must have been about ten. Oh, Jack, how dreadful.’
‘Yes.’ They went inside the house and shut the door firmly on the wind. Jack kept his back to it as she began to shrug out of her jacket. ‘I wonder whether she will stay on here during the winter? She seems to need the actual place – to live the book, as it were.’
Judith looked at him. ‘Jack …’ She spoke almost warningly.
‘If you think I’m matchmaking you are quite wrong!’ But he was laughing, dropping his coat to the granite floor, taking her in his arms, swinging her around the table, stumbling against a chair.
The bleep from the phone interrupted them.
It was a text from Toby.
‘Me and Alice getting married next Friday. All welcome.’
They stared at it. Judith felt the outside world suddenly pressing in indefatigably. She stared at the message. The phone vibrated on the table, and it was Matt to tell them that Toby was at last making an honest woman of Alice.
‘Lots to do. Coming over for you tomorrow, weather permitting. Got to juggle itineraries. Typical Toby, yeah?’
Jack said, ‘Yeah.’
Judith waited to feel anxious for all of them. Instead she felt a tiny spurt of sheer excitement. They were all going to a wedding. They would meet Alice, who had obviously been part of them for some time.
Matt rang off, and for a moment they listened to the wind as it whistled down the combe. Jack opened his arms again. ‘May I have this dance, Mrs Freeman?’
She went to him but they did not move for a long time.
The room gradually filled with a sense of peace. And then at last they moved. She thought it was a slow foxtrot.