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  Mina had been grateful for any respite that gave her the opportunity to rest, although Lydia needed to know that she was somewhere near at hand. She’d always been delighted to see her grandchildren, especially happy when they were all at Ottercombe together, and she’d written regularly and at length to Josie’s boys in America, showing their photographs proudly to anyone who might spare the time to look at them. Each winter her asthma attacks and bronchial infections had grown a little worse, yet she’d clung to life with surprising tenacity. Mina had held her frail frame whilst she inhaled friar’s balsam, a towel over her head and the bowl, and they’d laughed together, even then, about the indignities of old age. She’d been nearly eighty when a series of strokes put an end to her patient suffering.

  Mina pulled up the hood of her jacket against the rain, hunching against the wind. Great beeches, some still retaining their tiny hoard of copper, groaned restlessly above her head whilst at their feet, amongst thick bare roots, mallards rested from the hurly-burly of the rushing water. The dogs scampered amongst the reeds and up the steep sides of the cleave, following the tracks of badger and deer, and when she called to them the wind caught her voice and tossed it lightly away.

  She walked on, thinking of Lyddie and Nest, praying that all would be well between them, remembering how Nest had worked to hide the pain of watching her daughter being loved and cherished by her sister whilst she was unable to play any part other than that of a fond aunt.

  ‘Sometimes,’ Nest had told her privately, desperately, ‘I wonder if it would be better if I never saw her at all. I can’t explain the longing to seize her and hold her and then, oh God! when Henrietta gives her to me I’m so afraid of breaking down, of simply getting up and running away with her, that I hardly dare think about it and I sit like a dummy, so busy keeping my feelings under control that it’s a complete waste.’

  ‘I have to say, Henrietta is being very good,’ Mina had admitted. ‘She had all those miscarriages so she knows a little of what you feel, but I agree that having the contact must be agonizing.’

  ‘I’ve thought of going right away, perhaps abroad for a while, but Miss Ayres was so good about keeping my post available and being so broad-minded that I feel it would be terribly ungrateful. I used to ache for Connor,’ she’d said, ‘and now I ache for Lyddie.’

  Mina had put an arm about her, hugging her. ‘Used to ache for Connor?’

  ‘Yes.’ Nest had looked at her, distracted for a moment, ‘It’s odd, isn’t it? Once Lyddie was born it was as if a curtain came down on all that. I felt quite cold, detached. Perhaps it was some kind of instinctive, merciful self-preservation. I think I’d go mad if I still felt the same way about him. Even when I see him with Lyddie I feel nothing but a sense of relief that he loves her so much. It makes me sure that I did the right thing – given that I couldn’t keep her.’

  Pausing to pick up some twigs and small branches, brought down by the gales and useful for kindling, Mina sighed with relief as she revelled in this new sense of freedom from the weight of secrets. Standing up suddenly, she felt quite light-headed again, and had to put her hand against a mossy tree-trunk to steady herself.

  ‘Isn’t it odd,’ Nest had cried almost indignantly, once she’d read the letters, ‘that Mama should have become pregnant by Timothy and yet was so horrified when it happened to me? So determined that I couldn’t keep my baby, behaving as if it were all so shaming.’

  ‘I think you have to take several things into consideration,’ Mina had answered carefully. ‘First, and this is quite important, was the passage of time between your pregnancy and hers. It’s amazing how people forget, how, looking back, it seems that it was quite different for them. Distance lends enchantment to the view. There was a deeply romantic element which she couldn’t see in your case. If you’d been in a long-term relationship, had been madly in love, Mama might have reacted more understandingly. As it was, it was necessary to play that side of it down and you were obliged to make it all sound rather chancy. Poor Nest, you were bound by a loyalty which we couldn’t explain to her. Second, and even more importantly, she was a married woman with the protection and status of a husband.’

  ‘Even so,’ Nest had said, rather sadly, ‘I think she might have been a bit less Victorian about it, given the circumstances.’

  ‘I think she was utterly true to her Victorian upbringing, double standards and hypocrisy.’ Mina had tried to make her laugh. ‘And you must admit that, once it was settled that Henrietta should take the baby, she couldn’t have been sweeter.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Nest had grinned at her, ‘I’m not going to go all hurt at this late stage, it’s just all so incredible. I can’t see myself breaking this one to Lyddie for a very long time, if at all. I think she’s got enough on her plate.’

  ‘Well, I agree with that but it gives you an even stronger bond, doesn’t it? And one day, who knows, you might be able to share it with her.’

  ‘Possibly. Our next meeting is going to be quite nerve-racking. I keep imagining that her generosity is too good to be true, as if she hasn’t really taken it in, and when she does . . .’

  ‘Of course she’s taken it in. That’s nonsense. I think she’ll have much more difficulty coming to terms with Liam’s defection.’

  ‘I wonder what she’ll do.’ Nest had looked sombre. ‘Do you think she’ll go back to London?’

  ‘Back to her old job?’ Mina had shaken her head. ‘I simply don’t know. I can’t imagine what would happen to the Bosun if she does. Jack might have him. They’re hoping to have a puppy. Or we could have him here.’

  ‘Captain Cat might not like that.’

  ‘Captain Cat might have to lump it!’

  They’d chuckled together and now, as Mina opened the kitchen door and she and the dogs went inside, she paused to give him a pat as if to make up for her callousness. She sent them to their beds to dry off a little, put the kettle on the hotplate and went through to the drawing-room. Nest was nowhere to be seen but Georgie was sitting at the end of the sofa, slumped a little, her head dropping forward on to her chest. There was a stillness about her, an immobility, and when Mina spoke her name she did not move. Heart in mouth, Mina went forward and bent over her.

  ‘Georgie,’ she said huskily – and swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. ‘Georgie?’

  Her sister opened an eye and looked at her.

  ‘Where on earth have you been?’ she asked grumpily. ‘It must be long past tea-time.’

  Mina straightened up and took a deep breath, controlling an urge to smack her hard.

  ‘The kettle’s on,’ she said. ‘It won’t be long.’

  Back in the kitchen she found that her hands were trembling as she lifted up the teapot.

  ‘Only one more week,’ she told herself grimly – and began to make the tea.

  From: Mina

  To: Elyot

  . . . although I have to say that afterwards I simply had to laugh. Probably nervous hysteria. Goodness, what a time it’s been. Nest came into the kitchen and wondered what on earth was going on, the kettle boiling its head off and me sitting weeping with laughter. I have to say that for one terrible moment I thought Georgie was dead and, to be honest, I think my reaction was pure relief. Nest made the tea in the end and when we got back to the sitting-room Georgie was sitting up, almost aggressively perky, although I believe that she is beginning another stage of deterioration.

  I shall be glad to be free of the responsibility – which sounds terrible because she is my sister – but I am getting too old for all these alarums and excursions. Lyddie will be back soon and poor Nest is very fidgety but it will be a great treat to have her with us until she’s decided what she is going to do. Her money from the house near Oxford could set her up in some small flat – but where? I think that, legally, she’s entitled to something from the house in Truro and even from the business but I guess that both are in thrall to the bank and Lyddie is not the kind to demand an eye for an eye. She can stay here
for as long as she likes, of course . . .

  From: Elyot

  To: Mina

  Take care of yourself, old friend. You deserve a good long rest. I am very glad to have William here to do the driving for me, my confidence is low at present and it’s a great relief. Make certain that Lyddie has a good lawyer – not that it’s any of my business . . .

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  ‘I’m not sure that it’s been good for me being with you two,’ Lyddie said, as she and Hannah drove into Dorchester to do some shopping. ‘You are so right together. It points up everything I’ve lost.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Hannah. ‘I mean, did you actually have it in the first place with Liam? That absolute rightness?’

  Lyddie stared out through the windscreen at the rain drifting across the gently rounded hills.

  ‘I suppose not,’ she said at last. ‘Not ever quite like you and Jack – but there were moments . . .’

  ‘Of course there were,’ said Hannah remorsefully. ‘Sorry. I’m really not trying to belittle what you had. It would be utterly wrong to pretend that Liam is some kind of monster and you were never happy with him. So many people do that, have you noticed? They convince themselves that things were never right and they deny all the happy times.’

  ‘I think that’s more the case with the partner that has decided to go rather than with the one who’s been left,’ said Lyddie thoughtfully. ‘It seems necessary for the one who’s leaving to justify their actions to themselves – and to others – and so it becomes almost essential to persuade everyone that there were all kinds of problems. It’s silly, really, although perfectly understandable.’

  ‘It is silly,’ agreed Hannah, turning the car from the narrow lane into a wider road, ‘because all your friends generally know exactly how it’s been and it’s impossible to make them believe it. Maybe it’s easier to kid yourself. On the other hand, there are the cases where the reverse applies. You watch friends being made thoroughly miserable and you wish the scales would drop from their eyes and they’d have the courage to get up and go.’

  ‘Is that what you thought about me?’ asked Lyddie rather sadly.

  ‘No, love, of course not.’ Hannah put out her hand briefly and clasped Lyddie’s folded ones. ‘You were happy. The thing is, it’s impossible to judge who might be right for someone you love. I have friends who are deliriously happy with people who would bore me rigid or drive me mad in ten minutes.’

  ‘So what did you really think about Liam?’

  There was a short silence.

  ‘Truth?’ asked Hannah cautiously.

  ‘Truth,’ agreed Lyddie firmly.

  ‘When I first met him I thought, well, lucky old Lyddie! He is, let’s face it, a very attractive man, but, after a bit, I began to sense that there was something driving him along a one-way track and that nothing and nobody was going to get in the way of his objective. I was worried that he’d find marriage too demanding and that you’d be abandoned at some wayside station. For instance, I simply couldn’t imagine Liam as a father, which would have been fine except that I knew that children were definitely on your agenda, and, anyway, it seemed such an odd way for you to live. You know what I mean? Spending all day working and then going to the wine bar. There was no privacy, no weekends or evenings for you to be yourselves. I worried about that.’

  ‘But Liam himself?’

  ‘Well, I feel this tormented restlessness about him. He’s vital, very alive, but there’s something desperate about it. Like he’s watching himself perform, acting a part and, underneath it all, a terrible obsession. As long as you’re prepared to sacrifice yourself to it you’ll be fine. Step out of line and you’ll be dumped. I think that in another age he might have conquered worlds, or gone with Scott to the Antarctic, but there again . . .’ She paused and Lyddie looked at her; sitting straight, her hands lightly on the wheel, her brow furrowed in thought.

  ‘But there again?’ Lyddie prompted.

  Hannah bit her lip. ‘I was going to be brutal,’ she said anxiously.

  ‘Well, go on. I expect I can take it.’

  ‘I was going to say – but there again perhaps not, because there’s something little about Liam. I suspect that those types whose natural position is leading, conquering, discovering, often have a sexual appetite to match.’ She shrugged. ‘Not always, of course, but I can see that it might be all of a piece. A kind of ruthlessness which Liam has certainly displayed. He has charisma but at the same time I just have this feeling that he will only ever be a big frog in a small pond.’ She gave a quick sideways glance. ‘Have I upset you?’

  ‘No,’ replied Lyddie, remembering Liam’s face when she’d spoken about a chain of wine bars: how he’d seen the vision and then instinctively drawn back from it. ‘Well, only my pride a bit. You feel a twit, don’t you, when you’ve been taken in?’

  ‘Oh, hell!’ exclaimed Hannah. ‘Look, anyone might have been taken in: he’s a gorgeous-looking chap. Who wouldn’t have been knocked sideways? I was. It was only over a period of time that I began to . . . suspect him.’

  ‘It’s a relief, really,’ said Lyddie. ‘It makes me feel more sure that I’m doing the right thing. It’s not easy, walking away from a marriage.’

  ‘But I thought he was doing the walking? He’s the one making the rules. And the rules are not fair ones, Lyddie. You can’t accept a situation like this where one partner says, “I must have the freedom to do exactly as I please no matter how it hurts or humiliates you”, honestly you can’t. Marriage or not. Well,’ she shrugged again, ‘only if you can’t live without him.’ Another anxious glance. ‘Do you feel that might be the case?’

  Lyddie took a deep breath. ‘Just occasionally,’ she admitted, ‘I need him so much I almost feel tempted but I only have to think of Rosie or walking into The Place and I know I couldn’t do it. I’m going to have to manage somehow.’

  ‘Might you go back to London?’

  ‘I simply don’t know. I can’t see it somehow; it’s like starting again. Except that I’m not twenty-two any more and my friends mostly have partners or are married.’ She shook her head and tried for a lighter note. ‘Anyway, what would I do with the Bosun?’

  ‘You know that needn’t be a problem if you really wanted to do it.’

  Lyddie smiled. ‘Bless you. I wish I knew what was right.’

  ‘Could you afford to live, doing what you do now?’

  ‘Just about – as long as I get my money from the house and buy my own place, however small. Without rent or a mortgage I might just get by.’

  ‘Will Liam sell the house in Truro? You should get something from that, surely?’

  ‘It’s heavily mortgaged already and I don’t want to be demanding about this. He’s got enough financial problems as it is.’

  Hannah raised her eyebrows but said nothing for a moment.

  ‘Don’t make any important decisions until after Christmas,’ she suggested presently. ‘We’ll come down to Ottercombe to see you all and have some fun and you could come to us for the New Year. What do you think?’

  Lyddie gratefully accepted this offering as a breathing space and the talk turned to lighter subjects.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  It was several days later before Mina wrote again to Elyot.

  From: Mina

  To: Elyot

  And so the day is nearly upon us. It seems like several light years since I told you that Georgie would be arriving – and now it’s all over. We’ve all survived it and, although her presence has triggered off so many memories and prised open some of Pandora’s boxes, I can honestly say that I think, on the whole, it has been for the good. Nest looks much better – more content, younger – and she and Lyddie seem to be settling down to a new acceptance of their relationship, which is strongly underpinned by the affection they’ve always shared. For myself, I have been forced to come to terms with a foolish decision I took as a young girl and which has been buried ever since. We’ve confro
nted these things together, Nest and I, and we’ve drawn even closer because of it. I wish I could tell you much more, dear Elyot, but these are not just my secrets and already you know so much of what goes on here at Ottercombe. I still feel certain that one day you will come here to see us all.

  As for Georgie, well, now that her departure is at hand I feel unusually fond of her! More seriously, much though I feel saddened by the thought of her in a home I know that we couldn’t keep her here. Even in these few weeks I’ve seen a deterioration and I simply couldn’t be responsible for some disaster. Nest must be my first responsibility but there are moments – long, hard moments – when I feel very badly at the thought of letting Georgie go. I know that Helena will do everything that is proper – that sounds so cold, doesn’t it? – but I also have the feeling that very soon she will not really know quite where she is or whether it matters. If that sounds as if I am trying to comfort myself, well, there might be an element of truth in it but I really do believe that she is losing her grasp on what is happening. Her ‘foggy’ moments are occurring more often and lasting for longer periods and she is a continual worry to me as to where she is and what she is up to.

  Lyddie seems to be coping remarkably well although I suspect she misses Liam very much. She works very hard, which occupies her mind and saves her from too much brooding, but if you come upon her unawares you catch a glimpse of the misery she feels deep down. The dogs are learning to live together too. My darling old Polly Garter spends most of her time asleep but Nogood Boyo is thoroughly enjoying this new friend and clearly likes having some young blood about the place. He and the Bosun have some splendid games together and Boyo is learning to ignore his father’s grumpiness and make his own decisions.