Indian Summer Page 21

  Jake smiles and snaps open his phone: both messages are from Gaby. Perhaps now is the moment to bring his family into this relationship with Kit. It has to happen sooner or later and she seems so relaxed and confident; all is so good between them.

  ‘They’re from Gaby,’ he tells her, keeping his voice quite casual.

  ‘Gaby?’

  ‘My youngest daughter, Gabrielle. She’s expecting a baby at the end of next month. It’s her first so she’s getting a bit nervous. Understandable, I suppose. She’s missing Madeleine.’

  Kit says nothing and he talks on for a moment, outlining a thumbnail sketch of his daughters and their families. The tourist has driven gingerly past now, and Kit pulls back out into the lane but still she doesn’t speak. There is something odd about her silence, as if a mental switch has been thrown and the current of happiness flowing between them has been suddenly switched off.

  ‘We have to talk about them some time, Kit,’ he says mildly. ‘They’re my family. We can’t pretend they don’t exist. Once they’ve had time to adjust I know they will be pleased.’

  Out of the corner of his eye he sees her disbelieving expression, the quick sceptical lift of the brows, and he wonders how to move forward. He can understand how it must seem to Kit – that now Madeleine is dead she can be picked up again, dusted off and their friendship resumed – but she needs to remember that it isn’t quite like that. She refused his proposals of marriage, gave the impression that she wanted to remain free, and then – when she changed her mind – it was too late. It’s because of that he has a family to take into consideration. It’s crucial that she accepts the present situation as it is and that they both behave truthfully.

  Always aware of Kit’s lifelong reluctance to commit, however, Jake fears he might have moved too quickly but all the same he’s disappointed. It’s been such a good afternoon, full of such wonderful memories, of reconnections. But they can’t talk only of themselves and their shared past whilst ignoring the more recent years altogether. He can see that he must expect a few setbacks, a few unexpected wobbles, but at the same time he knows that he mustn’t back down altogether. He is beginning to feel confident and he must be confident for both of them.

  ‘I’m sure that they will be pleased,’ he says gently, ‘but not nearly so pleased as I was to find you so quickly. I think it’s very amusing that you ran away to Mungo to hide from me and the first thing I see in Totnes is both of you having coffee together.’

  She’s smiling now, unable to repress the happy memory of that meeting, and he settles back in his seat with relief. He wonders if she is simply jealous of the girls, or if she sees them as a threat, or – most likely – that she doesn’t think of them at all but has simply blanked them out. He is back in England; they are together again. She would prefer to remain in complete denial about his life and his family in Paris. Kit has always managed to hold the usual drudgeries of life at bay, to make interesting and original friends – he isn’t the least surprised to find her in the company of Sir Mungo Kerslake – to get involved with crazy schemes. Only with Kit would he be trying to think of a way of losing somebody’s SIM card from a stolen mobile phone. He thinks of Madeleine, tries to imagine her in the scene that he has witnessed today, and wants to burst out laughing. He has stepped through the looking-glass and is loving every minute of it.

  Kit senses that Jake’s decided to give up on the family theme for the moment and takes a breath of relief. She’s not ready to go there yet. Odd, and really worrying, how the mention of Gabrielle’s name threw her into such a panic. It was because of Gabrielle, all those years ago, that Jake cancelled their dinner together and flew back to Paris. He won’t remember that, of course, but it is as if Gabrielle is the synonym for his life and family. The scene rewinds itself, fresh and painful …

  ‘I’m at the airport,’ he said. ‘There’s been an emergency. Gabrielle has been taken ill. Madeleine took her home to Paris and she’s in hospital. I’m booked on the next flight.’

  No future for us, he said back then, she thinks. But now they have another chance. She tries to imagine herself meeting Jake’s family, submitting to their scrutiny, their judgement. She tries to visualize Jake the Rake as the family man, dandling babies on his knee and playing with his grandchildren. This is not the Jake she knows. How would she fit into this family; the outsider, the foreigner, the new stepmother? Even if she had the least inclination to do so they would surely resent any attempt on her part to take Madeleine’s place. So how is it to be done? She needs Jake to be part of her life, she wants it to be the way it was; she has no desire to be the new add-on to a big foreign family.

  Misery threatens to engulf her and she feels resentment for the unknown Gabrielle, who has once again threatened to destroy a new beginning in their relationship. Kit wonders what the texts were about. Did they question him? ‘Have you found her yet?’ Were they calling him home, telling him how she missed him?

  Jake is talking again, and Kit makes a very great effort to raise her spirits. Gradually a measure of ease between them is resumed as Kit tries to push her fears to one side, to block them out, but she knows that sooner or later she is going to have to confront the fact of Jake’s family. Somehow a mode of living must be created that can embrace them all whilst leaving her able to be sure of Jake; to trust him absolutely. He’s been back for such a very short while that she needs to feel more secure but, at the same time, she doesn’t want to make the same mistakes again. At the moment it’s all great fun, rather like a game, but what happens when reality sets in?

  The joy of the afternoon has evaporated. Fear of her own inadequacies is looming larger than her faith in Jake’s love.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  WHEN THEY GET back to the smithy, Jake wanders around the courtyard and Mungo watches appreciatively whilst leaning on the bottom half of the stable door.

  ‘You are a very lucky girl,’ he tells Kit, who sits in the kitchen behind him. ‘He’s gorgeous. I can’t imagine why you wanted to run away from him.’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ she answers. ‘You know very well why I wanted to hide. Part of me still does. How on earth is it going to work, Mungo?’

  He is silent for a moment, well aware that Kit is working up to one of her panic attacks.

  ‘I mean,’ she continues, ‘let’s face it, I’m not cut out for family life. I don’t have the necessary unselfishness for it. I like things my way and I’m worried in case I’m too old to change now.’

  ‘Well, I do sympathize, sweetie,’ he answers. ‘Jesus wanted me for a sunbeam but we could never agree the job spec. I really do think that it’s going to have to be a compromise.’

  He doesn’t turn round but he can imagine the expression on Kit’s face.

  ‘After all,’ he goes on, ‘Jake’s got a family. He loves them. You can’t just pretend they aren’t there. But you don’t have to try to be a second mother, either. They won’t want that, anyway. They’re not babies. His daughters are grown-up women. Has it occurred to you that they might be very pleased to see him with someone who takes some of the burden from their shoulders? Parents can get to be a bit of a worry, can’t they? They’re probably thrilled to think he’ll be somebody else’s responsibility.’

  Another silence.

  ‘So what’s brought this on?’ he asks. ‘It was all wonderful when you set off after lunch.’

  ‘Texts,’ says Kit. ‘Texts from Gaby. She’s the youngest one, about to have her first baby, missing Papa.’

  ‘Of course she is,’ protests Mungo. ‘Come on, sweetie. Use your imagination. Her mother’s dead. First child due. Of course she’s missing her father. What’s the matter with you?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think part of it was that it was Gaby who was ill that time when Jake and I were just getting it back together and he went off without a backward look. It hurt, Mungo. It was weird how it kind of resonated when he mentioned her.’

  Staring out into the courtyard Mungo is beginning to see more
problems than he’d first envisaged. All Kit’s insecurities are resurfacing and she and Jake haven’t had long enough together to establish a solid new relationship.

  ‘He loves you,’ he says strongly. ‘That’s what really matters. He really loves you, Kit. Please don’t be foolish and throw it away for a second time. You told me that you were the one who wouldn’t commit, not Jake. OK, so he moved on and now he’s got a family out there. But at the first opportunity he’s come back to find you. For God’s sake, sweetie, don’t be a complete idiot all your life. Take a day off occasionally and behave like a grown-up.’

  To his relief she laughs.

  ‘Thanks, Mungo!’

  ‘I know, I know,’ he says. ‘Pots and kettles … I just don’t want you to miss out. You’re so right together, and it’s going to be such fun. Trust your uncle Mungo. Oh, and by the way, Archie has invited us all up for drinks this evening.’

  ‘What! Oh God. It’ll be so embarrassing. They have no idea about Jake.’

  ‘They’ve got to find out some time. Do get a grip.’ Mungo straightens up. ‘He’s coming in.’

  He opens the lower half of the door and Jake comes into the kitchen. Mungo glances at Kit, who has a rather dazed expression. Clearly she is anticipating the forthcoming drinks party.

  ‘Courage, ma brave,’ he mutters. ‘You’ve got to practise on someone. I can’t wait to see Camilla’s face.’

  ‘I still think you might have asked,’ Camilla is saying, as she carries glasses and nibbles out to the veranda.

  ‘I can’t see that it makes the least bit of difference whether it’s a man or a woman,’ answers Archie impatiently. ‘Honestly, darling, do stop fussing about it. You should have phoned Mungo and asked him if you’re that worried.’

  Camilla lights the candles. She’d already thought of that but it seemed rather foolish, especially if Kit happened to be near at hand when he answered. It’s simply that she likes to be prepared, to know what form the evening might take. ‘A friend from Paris,’ Archie said – which could mean all sorts of things.

  ‘They’re here,’ Archie says, as Mungo’s familiar call rings out and he hurries through to meet them, and now she can hear Kit’s voice and another male voice greeting Archie and she experiences a slight sense of relief that it isn’t going to be a smart sophisticated Frenchwoman who might make her feel dowdy. A Frenchman can be relied upon to be polite.

  And indeed, this handsome, very sexy Frenchman doesn’t make her feel the least bit dowdy. Au contraire, as he takes her hand and smiles at her she feels rather flustered, in a good way, and pleased that she changed into a clean shirt and put a silk scarf around her neck. At the very least it will hide the scraggy dinosaur effect she notices when she looks in the mirror. But this very good-looking Jake seems oblivious of the negative aspects of growing older and concentrates on her, laughing at her little witticisms and flattering her with his attention. Camilla finds that she is responding to him, even flirting with him, and she looks round for Kit lest she might misunderstand and be upset. But no; Kit is beaming at her, lifting her glass as though she thoroughly understands the effect that a man like Jake must have upon someone who lives with Archie and two springer spaniels and doesn’t get out much.

  Camilla pushes her blond hair – slightly assisted these days but still blond – behind her ears and refills Jake’s glass.

  Archie watches with amusement. Camilla is really enjoying herself and he is filled with an enormous affection for her. When she tucks her hair behind her ears like that she reminds him of the young Camilla he fell in love with all those years ago. Suddenly he feels stronger, more able, and filled with courage. All in an instant he makes up his mind. He decides he isn’t ready to leave the place where he and Camilla have lived all their married lives, where they brought up their children and have been so happy.

  Kit is now talking to Camilla and Jake, whilst Mungo is selecting a nibble and fending off the dogs. Archie moves to stand beside him.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about what you were saying earlier,’ he says, keeping his voice down. ‘Thanks for your offer, Mungo, I really appreciate it but I’ve decided to put in for planning permission to build in the orchard. It will bring in money without splitting up the estate and it gives us a breathing space.’

  He’s aware that Mungo is staring at him rather oddly, almost in alarm, and he frowns enquiringly at him.

  ‘You mustn’t worry about Philip and Billy,’ he says. ‘It’ll be a bit noisy, and I know they love the old orchard, but it’s not the end of the world.’

  ‘But will you get planning permission?’ asks Mungo. ‘Honestly, I wish you’d just let me help you.’

  ‘I’m sure we will.’ Archie is faintly irritated by Mungo’s lack of enthusiasm. After all, this maintains the status quo and doesn’t require anyone to fork out. ‘The orchard has its own access. It’s the obvious thing to do. No, I’ve made up my mind. Let’s drink to it.’

  But before he can fill Mungo’s glass, Camilla calls to him, suggesting that everyone stays for supper, and the moment passes.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Kit asks Mungo. He looks odd, a bit shell-shocked, and she’s anxious about him. Everyone’s having such a wonderful time and she’s feeling confident again; happy. It’s as if Camilla’s response to Jake has made her see him as other women do. She sees anew his warmth and quirkiness; his ability to relate, and it’s as if she’s falling in love with him all over again. She wants Mungo to be pleased about it; to be happy for her. Instead he looks abstracted, rather as if he’s bracing himself to do something he’s dreading.

  ‘Jake’s going to have to stay overnight in the barn,’ she tells Mungo. ‘Is that OK? He’s had too much to drink to be able to drive. You did say it might be a possibility.’

  She waits for Mungo to make a joke about it, as he did earlier, to say that Jake had better lock his door, but Mungo just nods and says it’s OK so that Kit feels even more anxious and her high spirits subside a little.

  Camilla is beside her and Mungo moves away. ‘I like your Jake, Kit,’ she murmurs in her ear. ‘He is so dishy. I suppose we couldn’t share him, could we? Come and help me get some supper. I want to hear all about it.’

  Kit glances up, catches Jake’s eye and he gives her a little wink. Smiling back at him, she follows Camilla into the kitchen.

  Mungo leans against a pillar at the edge of the veranda, staring out into the dusk, and Jake moves to stand beside him.

  ‘Did I pass?’ he murmurs. ‘How many marks out of ten?’

  He sees Mungo smile almost unwillingly, as if his thoughts are far away, and he looks very sad.

  ‘Oh, full marks, I think,’ he answers. ‘You’ve certainly made a hit with Camilla.’

  Jake feels the weight of Mungo’s spirits, the effort he is making to be cheerful, and wonders what has cast him down.

  ‘I was trying to make Kit jealous,’ he jokes, hoping to make him laugh.

  Mungo shakes his head. ‘That won’t work. It’s your daughters you have to watch out for there. You’re not out of the wood yet, you know.’

  ‘I’m well aware of it but I don’t know how to play it. What would you do?’

  ‘I’d marry Kit at the earliest opportunity, present it to your daughters as a fait accompli and then settle down to making it work. Kit will feel secure and your daughters will soon see that nothing has really changed. She won’t want to interfere but you simply mustn’t give her time to dither.’

  Jake looks at him, impressed. ‘You make it sound so easy.’

  ‘It can be if you put your mind to it. I hear you’re staying the night.’

  ‘You did say that it would be OK.’

  ‘Oh, it is. I was just wondering …’

  ‘What?’ Jake stares at him suspiciously. ‘If you’re wondering what I think you are, Mungo, you can forget it. Apart from anything else I wouldn’t be able to face you over the eggs and bacon tomorrow morning.’

  ‘That’s the trouble with you Frogs,�
� says Mungo. ‘So sensitive. But perhaps you’re right.’

  Jake remembers Kit saying, ‘I just don’t want us to be his next production,’ and he smiles to himself.

  ‘I can manage my own seduction scene, thanks,’ he says. ‘Not that I’m questioning your director’s skills, of course, Sir Mungo.’

  ‘I shall watch and learn,’ says Mungo drily. ‘It’s always good to see an expert at work. Only, for all our sakes, do get on with it.’

  Philip sits on the bench outside the back door, waiting for Star, who is having her late night run in the orchard. Billy has been in bed awhile, contented with his day: physio in the morning and the tea party in the afternoon.

  They both enjoyed the tea party, were invigorated by the company of Emma and the children, and then that young officer turned up. Sharp, he looked, ready for trouble. It was clear that Emma was frightened of him in some way. She leaned forward and spoke very low and quickly. ‘Don’t go,’ she said. ‘Don’t leave us alone with him.’

  Just for a moment he thought that the young fellow, Marcus, was going to do something silly. When Philip gripped his arm he felt him trembling; the rage in him burning like a flame. Then, just for a brief moment, he remembered Ralph, his own spasm of fury and the fatal twist of the wheel, and he held on tighter, pulling the younger man away. And suddenly the fight went out of him, he almost collapsed, and allowed himself to be led away like a child.

  When he went back to the party little Joe was showing Billy his trains and Emma was watching, though her thoughts were far away.

  ‘He’s on his way home,’ he told her. ‘He won’t be back.’

  ‘I hope not,’ she said. She looked like Izzy then; that same old look of despair, humiliation and regret. ‘I’ve been such a fool, Philip.’

  He felt the familiar sensations of helpless love, of protectiveness. How strange it was that Izzy should come back to him through this girl.

  ‘We’re all fools sometimes,’ he said, not knowing how to comfort her. ‘Part of being human.’