The flat was charming. A tiny lobby, with some pegs and space for gumboots, opened into a square living room that had a window on to the yard and another looking up to the moor behind the stable. The rough stone walls were washed a warm yellow and two comfortable sofas faced each other across the room, one beneath each window. A small wood-burning stove sat on a slate hearth with logs in a big basket to one side.
‘This is just so nice,’ declared Daisy. ‘And you’ve lit the fire for me.’
‘It can be a chilly little place,’ admitted Roly, ‘and it’s not summer yet by any means. We converted the stables in the seventies when our father died and it’s a bit rough and ready by modern standards but our friends like it. Through here is the kitchen.’
He led the way beneath an arch to the left of the stone fireplace into a small kitchen and, passing through another tiny lobby, opened the door into the bedroom.
‘I hope you’ll be comfortable.’ He put her case on a chair. ‘There are extra blankets in the chest and the bathroom’s next door. I’m sorry that Mim isn’t here to welcome you. She was so looking forward to it.’
She followed him back through the flat to the front door.
‘Honestly, you don’t have to apologize. I quite understand. I remember those traumatic moments very clearly. The whole place in an uproar, last-minute rehearsals, costumes being altered and everyone panicking. Everyone except Mim, that is. There’s a kind of still centre inside her, isn’t there? Something right deep down that nothing can ruffle.’
He stared at her, surprised at her perception.
‘That’s absolutely true. Even after the accident . . .’ He paused, shocked at himself. He never talked about that ghastly moment to anybody.
Daisy was watching him with a kind of compassion.
‘How terrible it must have been,’ she said gently. ‘I’m only now beginning to realize how terrible.’
He glanced at her quickly. ‘I hope it won’t be nearly so final for you,’ he said.
‘I hope not, too.’ She felt a great need to reassure him; to see him smile again. ‘I have to be patient. Take things gently.’ She grimaced, self-mockingly. ‘I can’t tell you how dreary that seems. I am so utterly not patient.’
She’d succeeded: the smile flashed out and she laughed too.
‘I shall keep an eye on you,’ he warned her. ‘Come over when you’re ready.’
He went down the steps and the dogs stood up, tails wagging expectantly.
Daisy looked down at them. ‘Will you lend me a dog?’ she asked. ‘You’ve got three, after all. Surely you could spare just one of them?’
Roly pretended to consider and then shook his head. ‘Can’t be done. Uncle Bernard believes the flat to be beneath him socially. It wouldn’t be fair to let Floss get too fond of you, she’ll be moving on soon, and Bevis has a hang-up about going up stairs. Sorry, Daisy.’
She shrugged philosophically, waved a hand and went back inside to unpack. Roly crossed the yard, feeling surprisingly light-hearted. He’d been anxious about Daisy’s arrival since Mim had telephoned, wondering how he’d cope with a girl in her situation. However, one look at that narrow clever face, with its slanting honey-brown eyes, had shown him courage and humour; her ease of manner had done the rest.
It was odd that someone so young had recognized and appreciated Mim’s quality of inner serenity. It was their mother’s gift. He pushed the kettle on to the hotplate and wandered out through the French doors into the wilderness garden. It was here that he remembered her best; pruning, weeding or simply standing quite still with her hands pressed against her breast – and, just occasionally, her face so full of sadness.
When he is small, he cannot bear to see her look so sad. He shouts to her across the garden, determined to chase away such an unhappy look, and feels a great relief when her eyes brighten and she waves to him.
‘Hush,’ she says, ‘you’ll wake Mim. Come and give the fish something to eat.’
He loves to feed the fish: to see the soft blunt mouths sucking at the bread. He watches, fascinated, as those bright shapes that flicker and flash amongst the weed become braver; swimming up, so sinuous, so quick to snatch the food.
Others are slower: the huge carp, Old Black and Big Blue, drift slowly upwards and gently mumble the crumbs of food into their mouths. If he moves too suddenly they turn with a great smack of their tails that sends ripples flowing across the pond.
‘Look, Mother,’ he says, wide-eyed with surprise. ‘See the tiny ones,’ and he crouches down to watch the cloud of small black fish that cruise in the green and gold depths.
‘Babies,’ she says, smiling. ‘Lots and lots of fishy babies.’
They stand together watching the busy pond skaters who walk on the taut surface skin of the pond, casting fantastic shadows on the floor of it, whilst a dragonfly perches on the edge of a lily pad; its wings vibrate and tremble at such speed that they shimmer like bronze filaments in the sunshine. He is aware of several sensations: the heat under the trees, the feel of her hand on his shoulder, the microscopic world within the shimmering pool and the rich scents all around him.
He wants to hold this moment for ever but he knows that it is already passing: that Mim will wake and it will be time for tea. He can hear the kettle singing on the range.
Roly came in through the French doors as Daisy appeared at the other door. He was so dazzled by the sun and water that he frowned for a moment, wondering who she was.
‘I heard the kettle singing,’ she was saying cheerfully, ‘and Bevis was still waiting for me to show me the way. Wasn’t that nice of him?’
‘Bevis is a great gentleman.’ Roly began to make the tea. ‘He is kind and he likes people to be happy.’
Daisy was staring appreciatively around, one hand still on Bevis’s head.
‘What a fantastic room. And I love that galleried landing at the end. But tell me,’ she sat down carefully on one of the chairs at the table, ‘why Bevis doesn’t like stairs.’
‘No-one quite knows why he reacts so strongly but we feel he must have been beaten quite badly when he was a puppy for going upstairs. We didn’t have him until he was fifteen months old. When his owners divorced, neither wanted to take him into their new lives. He was very nervous to begin with but he’s a much more confident fellow now. Apart from the stairs.’
He put the teapot on the table and saw that Daisy was staring at him, shocked.
‘That’s terrible,’ she said. ‘Who would do a thing like that?’
Roly made a little face. ‘People lose it, sometimes. And dogs are easy targets.’
She shivered, bending down to give Bevis a hug. ‘So you rescued him,’ she prompted, as though helping along with a story. ‘But how did you know about him in the first place? And what happened then?’
‘Some friends of mine knew the couple in question. I thought Uncle Bernard might like a friend so I met Bevis and decided to keep him. We’d just moved back from London, the two of us, and there was plenty of room for another dog. Once he was settled I looked up the local rescue society and agreed to foster other dogs until homes could be found for them.’
‘And you haven’t been tempted to keep any of the others?’
‘Not yet. There has to be a very special rapport.’ He passed her a mug of tea. ‘We’ve got lots of decent people ready to give homes to them, I’m glad to say.’
‘What about Floss?’ asked Daisy.
They both looked at Floss, who was sitting on her rug watching the scene rather wistfully until Roly clicked his fingers and she came to him readily.
‘Floss is grieving and she needs someone who understands that,’ he said. ‘I might be tempted, she’s got such a sweet temperament, but I have someone in mind for Floss.’
Watching him, Daisy saw an odd expression – tender and secretive – flicker across his face, and she was seized with curiosity. She thought: It’s a woman and he’s in love with her.
‘And you think this person will understand how Floss feels?’ she said. He glanced at her and she grinned back at him. ‘Am I asking too many questions?’ she asked. ‘I don’t mean to be intrusive but I’m like the Elephant’s Child, I’m afraid.’
He smiled. ‘You haven’t got the nose for it,’ he said lightly. ‘But, yes, I think Kate will understand. She’s grieving too. She lost her husband recently and then her dear old dog followed suit. I think she and Floss were made for each other. She’s coming over tomorrow to meet her. Anyway, enough of dogs for the moment. Tell me about yourself. I know you trained in London with Mim, but what happened after that?’
She accepted his change of direction very readily and made him laugh with descriptions of the jobs she’d taken – especially one as an usher in a theatre when times were really hard – before joining the Upstage Dance Company. He poured more tea whilst she described the flat in Henrietta Street, the glories of Bath and her bitter disappointment at being left behind when the company went on tour.
‘And do you have to rush back?’ he asked. ‘Or can you stay for a while?’
He watched with surprised interest as the narrow, vivid little face was suffused with colour. He thought: There’s a man there somewhere and she’s in love with him.
‘I have to go back for treatment,’ she said after a moment. ‘For my Pilates class and to see the physio.’ She shrugged. ‘You know how it is.’
‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘I know how it is.’
He stood up and began to remove the tea things whilst Daisy sat in silence, watching him. She was fighting back the most extraordinary desire to tell him all about Paul. Perhaps it was because he was so like Mim that she’d been so immediately at ease with him; whatever it was she must be careful not to go blurting out things like a foolish child.
‘Pull yourself together,’ she told herself firmly – and, dropping a kiss on Floss’s golden head, she got up to help him.
Daisy slept late the next morning and took her time over her breakfast. The kitchen had been stocked up with the basic necessities so that she was able to make coffee and toast: she rejected the cereals but found a grapefruit in a bowl amongst some apples and oranges.
‘I’m afraid I’m rather slow and uncommunicative much before ten o’clock,’ Roly had admitted last evening after a gentle walk on the hill. ‘It was those early years in London that set the pattern. Mim and I shared lodgings whilst she was training and I was at art college. She often had late performances or we had friends in – you know the form – and neither of us are early birds. I get up to let the dogs out and then potter very slowly.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ she’d assured him. ‘If I were to have a pre-breakfast stroll, would the dogs come with me?’
‘Oh, I should think so. If you follow the route we’ve just taken they won’t let you get lost, and if Uncle Bernard gets bored he’ll simply come home by himself. Enjoy yourself. Kate will be here around mid-morning to meet Floss but you’d be back by then. Come and have some coffee with us.’
As it happened she’d slept until nearly nine o’clock. Now, wandering back from washing-up in the kitchen, eating a slice of apple, she caught sight of a woman leaning on the five-bar gate. Daisy moved closer to the window and stared down curiously. She guessed that the woman was in her sixties; she had short, curling grey hair, and her chin rested on her arms that were folded along the top bar of the gate as she watched Bevis and Floss playing together in the yard.
Kate, thought Daisy.
She guessed that she’d left her car down by the ford and had walked up so as to come upon the dogs unannounced. Studying her, Daisy was struck by the look on the woman’s face: an odd and touching mixture of tenderness and loss. A little smile lifted the corners of her mouth but her whole expression was one of sadness.
Daisy finished her apple, curbing a desire to go out and give her a hug.
‘What are you like?’ she asked herself derisively. ‘Hugging people you’ve never met.’
Even as she watched, Roly came out of the house. It was clear that Roly hadn’t heard Kate arrive and he gave an exclamation of pleasure that distracted the dogs from their game. They rushed to meet him and, all in a moment, there was great activity. Bevis jumped up at the gate with woofs of welcome and even Floss, losing a little of her reticence, went to claim her share in the greeting. They remained for a moment, Kate leaning on the gate with Roly beside her, discussing the dogs and completely relaxed. Then Roly made some comment that made Kate laugh and a look of great affection – and something more – passed between them.
Quite suddenly, Daisy felt as if she were spying on something infinitely private. She turned away quickly, glancing at her watch: nearly a quarter to eleven. She’d give it half an hour and then go and say hello.