LITMIR.BIZ

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then you can stand back from it – get an idea of the layout.

      ‘Mind, it wasn’t always so roomy. Once, I think, it must have belonged to a yeoman type of farmer, then later owners joined the outbuildings to the house. They connect with a rather modern conservatory. Don’t think it would be allowed now by the planning people, this being a listed house. I reckon even the farm buildings would be listed these days.’

      ‘It isn’t a farm, then?’

      ‘Not any more. They’ve only got a paddock now. The rest of the land has been sold off over the years, mostly for grazing. At least some of the farm buildings were saved; Danny uses them as garages now. You can shift your car inside later.’

      She closed the kitchen door behind us and I noticed she didn’t bother to lock it.

      ‘I envy your sister this place,’ I said dreamily. ‘I feel comfortable here already. Sort of déjà vu …’

      ‘Mm. Beth feels the same way. Pity they’ve got to give it up.’

      ‘Selling!’ I squeaked, wondering who in her right mind could even think of leaving such a house.

      ‘No, not them. The lease runs out at the end of the year and the owner is selling. I suppose they could buy but they won’t. The children, you see. They’re a long way from a school. All very well in summer, but in winter this place can be cut off for weeks. Nothing moves: no cars in or out; no mail, and sometimes electricity lines down in high winds. The kids are weekly boarders in Lancaster in winter – come home Friday nights – but even in summer it’s a five-days-a-week job for Beth, getting them to school and back again.

      ‘She’s cut up about it – they both are – but I reckon she’ll be glad to live nearer a school. Beth has to plan her life round the kids’ comings and goings. She adores Deer’s Leap; she’d transport it stone by stone to somewhere less out of the way if she could. This coming Christmas will be their last here, I’m sorry to say.’

      I felt sorry, too, and I’d spent less than an hour in the place. There was something about it that made me feel welcome and wanted. Even the old windows seemed to smile in the morning sun.

      We were standing at the white gates when Jeannie said, ‘Let’s go round the back way. The land rises a bit and if you go to the top of the paddock, there’s a lovely view …’

      She pushed open the kissing gate, slipping through, waiting for me to do the same, but I just stood there gawping.

      ‘Is there another gate like this one?’ I frowned. ‘One that squeaks?’

      ‘No. This is the only one. Why do you ask?’

      ‘Because I’d have bet good money that this one was in need of a coat of paint and a drop or two of oil.’

      ‘You sure, Cas?’

      I was perfectly sure. It had squeaked not so long ago when Jack pushed through it, I’d swear it had. Yet now it was newly painted and swung so smoothly on its pivot that I knew I could have pushed it open with my little finger.

      ‘But, Jeannie, I don’t understand it …’ I stammered.

      ‘Listen, m’dear. This gate was painted about two months ago and to the best of my knowledge it has never squeaked.’

      Then she went on to argue that one kissing gate looked much the same as the other, and wasn’t I getting this one mixed up with some other gate? She said it in such reasonable tones that I knew she was humouring me, so I said no more. But tonight, when the airman showed, I was determined to mention it again. I was just about to ask where the other guest was when a car swept into the drive.

      ‘Thanks be! They’ve got away – eventually – and if you offered me a hundred quid I wouldn’t take that lot of screaming dervishes out for a Sunday afternoon walk, let alone endure them for two days and nights!’ Beth advanced on me, arms outspread. ‘You’ll be Cassie,’ she beamed, then, having introduced Danny, demanded to know if the sun was over the yardarm yet because she was in dire need of a G and T. A large one, she said, because it was probably the last she’d get before the do started tonight!

      So when the Labrador that came snuffling up had had its water bowl filled and Danny, bless the dear man, had placed gin and tonics on handy little tables beside us, I said, with the airman in mind, of course, ‘When do you expect everyone to start arriving – and do they all know the way here?’

      Danny said of course they did and they all knew to arrive not one minute before seven or Beth would blow her top and how was my second novel coming along?

      ‘No book talk, Dan!’ Jeannie warned.

      ‘But we don’t often get a famous author at Deer’s Leap. Come to think of it, apart from a long-haired youth that Jeannie once dragged in, we haven’t had an author at all!’

      ‘I’m not famous,’ I said very earnestly. ‘I’m what’s known as a one-book author. I was lucky with the first one; Jeannie says it’s only if the next one is any good that people will start taking notice of me.’

      ‘People as in publishers,’ Jeannie supplied. ‘And they will! But no more book talk, either to Cassie or me. And isn’t the weather just glorious? In summer there’s nowhere to beat these parts.’

      ‘Jeannie says you’re thinking of moving on,’ I ventured, not knowing what else to say and still feeling a mite stupid over the kissing gate.

      ‘Sadly, yes.’

      ‘But it’s so beautiful, Beth. I don’t know how you can leave it.’

      ‘Come winter when we’ll have to go it’ll be just about bearable, but on days like this I feel lousy about it. Why don’t you buy it with the loot from your next book, Cassie? It’s fine if you don’t have kids – or can afford boarding school fees.’

      ‘I’ll need to have at least three books behind me before I even begin to think of buying a little place of my own – let alone a house this size,’ I laughed. ‘But I’m going to dislike whoever buys it when you’ve gone.’

      ‘Me, too,’ Beth sighed, draining her glass. ‘Now, have you unpacked, Cassie? No? Then as soon as you have you can help me with the vol-au-vents. They’re resting in the fridge, ready to go in the oven. As soon as they’re done, you can stick the fillings in for me. And did I hear you say you were doing the dips, Sis?’

      ‘You didn’t, but I think I’m about to. But let’s get Cassie settled in, then we’ll report for duty.’ She gave me a long, slow wink. ‘My sister’s quite human, really, but at times like this she gets a bit bossy.’

      I followed Jeannie up the narrow staircase that led off the kitchen, feeling distinctly light-headed – and it was nothing to do with the gin either. It was all to do with the lovely summer day, a peculiar kissing gate, a guest who seemed to be keeping out of the way until seven, and an old house that held me enchanted.

      ‘I’ve got a feeling,’ I said as I unlocked my case, ‘that this is going to be one heck of a weekend!’

      

      My green dress lay on the bed with the silk lilies; on the floor my flat, bronze kid sandals. Everything was ready. Food lay on the kitchen table, covered with tea towels, and the second-best glasses were polished and placed upside down on a table on the terrace. Danny had seen to the summer punch, then humped furniture and dotted ashtrays about the conservatory.

      ‘It’s great now that smoking is antisocial,’ Beth had said as we’d filled the vol-au-vents. ‘If anyone wants to light up there’s only one place they can do it!’

      ‘And the plants won’t mind.’ I’d dipped into my store of horticultural knowledge. ‘The nicotine in the smoke actually kills certain greenhouse pests.’

      ‘Really?’ Beth had looked impressed, I thought now as I lay in the bath, the water brackish but soft as silk.

      I

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