LITMIR.BIZ

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a word, all the way back to Aunt Sutton’s house. Her face had been harsh with grief, just as it was that morning she had arrived at Rowangarth, wet and cold and half out of her mind with misery, just three weeks after the end of the war.

      ‘What is he like, your aunt’s solicitor?’ It was all Alice could think of to say.

      ‘He’s nice. Far nicer than young Carver, and he doesn’t dislike women – or if he does, he’s careful not to let it show. We’ll soon get things settled. Aunt made a watertight Will, so he’s only waiting for something from France before it’s all wrapped up.’

      ‘And can you afford to keep the place going?’ Alice demanded, ever practical.

      ‘No trouble at all. Aunt left quite a bit of money. Carefully invested, there’ll be income enough to take care of expenses. Mind, if I were to put it on the market, that house would fetch a pretty penny, or so Mark Townsend says.’

      ‘That’s his name?’

      ‘Mm. He wants me to make a Will. I’ve never made one you know and I ought to if only for Drew’s sake. Once Carvers have settled Drew’s business, then I’ll go back to London and get one drawn up, and witnessed.’

      ‘Can’t Rowangarth’s solicitors do it? You said that the young Carver had his wits about him.’

      ‘I know. But I don’t like Carver-the-young. Oh, he’s scrupulously honest, but there’s something about him I don’t like. His eyes are shifty, Alice. He never looks me in the eyes when he’s talking to me. Andrew did. Always.’

      ‘Andrew was different, and very special.’

      They had come to the place, now; to where it had started all those years ago, near the Marble Arch gate. Emily Davison selling suffragette news-sheets for a penny and young women appearing out of nowhere it had seemed, eager to buy from her. And the police appearing out of nowhere, too, and that awful fight. Alice Hawthorn giving the big policeman an almighty shove from behind and him falling on top of Julia, knocking her unconscious.

      That was when it happened. Julia had opened her eyes and fallen immediately in love with the young doctor who bent over her.

      ‘Give me the pram. Drew and Daisy and me will walk back, slowly. You stay here, for a while?’

      Call him back to you, Julia. Say goodbye then tell yourself he has gone. Remembering the good times will be easier if only you can accept that he isn’t ever coming back.

      ‘We’ll wait for you at the bandstand. Take your time, love …’

9

      ‘Tired, Alice love?’

      ‘Mm. But happy.’ It had been a long day and that last mile seemed so long in her eagerness to see Keeper’s Cottage again. ‘Being with Julia was grand. She’s got herself sorted out – as much as she ever will, that is. She’s had all the furniture from Andrew’s surgery packed up and sent to Rowangarth, would you believe? Intends setting it out in one of the spare rooms – just as he had it. I didn’t agree, but who am I to deny her a bit of comfort – me, who’s so lucky. Oh, Tom, this little house is good to come to home to. So quiet, after London. No one here, but you and me.’

      ‘And Daisy. And there’s Willow End now, don’t forget. Seems that Purvis is going to suit. Mr Hillier said I was to tell him to send for his wife, so we’ll have a neighbour before so very much longer.’

      ‘How soon?’ It would be good to have someone near. ‘I’ll do a bake for her so she’ll have something in the house to tide her over. And I’ll put down extra bread and –’

      ‘Stop your fussing, lass! When her and the lad arrive is going to depend on when her cousin is coming this way with an empty lorry. Seems he makes a trip twice a month to Southampton docks. Purvis says they haven’t got much in the way of furniture, but it’ll be a help, them getting moved here for nowt.’

      ‘Poor things. Ten shillings isn’t much of a wage.’

      ‘Happen not, but it’s riches to that man down the lane. And a house and firewood, remember. He’s been living frugal since he moved in; sends most of his wage to his Polly. But for all that, he’s come on a pace since I came across him in the woods.

      ‘Having to beg strips a man of his dignity, Alice. To have a roof and a job makes a lot of difference to a man’s pride – and a man that hasn’t had a fair crack of the whip for a long time. His little lad is called Keth, by the way.’

      ‘Keth?’

      ‘Said his wife wanted something a bit different.’

      ‘Then I hope Mrs Purvis isn’t going to be different in her ways; not hoity-toity.’

      ‘Don’t think so. By what I’ve gleaned, she’s a decent woman who’ll be glad to be with her man again. Now give that little lass to me and I’ll get her to sleep. I’ve missed her.’ Missed them both more than he’d ever have thought. Each day had seemed endless. He’d been glad, truth known, just to see the lampglow from Willow End windows at night. ‘Think Mr Hillier has missed our Daisy, an’ all. Bet he’ll be at the garden gate tomorrow, trying to get a smile out of her.’

      ‘She smiled a lot while we were away, especially at Drew. He hardly left her side. Said he wanted to take her back with him.’

      ‘I’m glad you’ve come to accept him, Alice. Nothing of what happened was the lad’s fault. And you’ll be going to Rowangarth before long, to get that legal business seen to. He’ll see her again, then.’

      ‘No sooner back home than I’m talking about going away again. I’m sorry, Tom. It has to be done, though it won’t be yet, a while. Before the bad weather sets in, I’d like it to be – and I do want to see Reuben again.’

      ‘And you shall, sweetheart.’ Tom settled his daughter on his shoulder, setting the chair rocking. ‘I don’t begrudge you going. Rowangarth was good to us both and I’m not likely to forget it. And lass – have you anything more to tell me?’

      ‘Aye,’ she said softly, gentling his cheek with her finger-tips. ‘I love you, Tom Dwerryhouse.’

      And tonight she would sleep in his arms again …

      ‘Well!’ said Clementina Sutton, brandishing the letter. ‘He’s obviously read it, yet not so much as a word about this did your father utter, last night when I rang him. I asked him if there was any news and he said no, there wasn’t. Ooooh!’

      ‘What’s happened now?’ Elliot disliked dramatics at breakfast.

      ‘You may well ask!’ She handed over the letter. ‘Read it! From Kentucky – from Amelia! Go on. Read it out loud!’

      ‘All of it?’

      ‘The second page. Half-way down. I don’t believe it!’

      Obediently, reluctantly, Elliot did as she commanded. Then his eyebrows flew upwards.

      ‘Another baby? That’s twice in – how long is it? How old is that boy of theirs?’

      ‘Sebastian is about two and a half. And you’re missing the point. My youngest son a father twice over in three years yet you, heir to all I’ve got, can’t even get yourself down the aisle. Now do as you’re bid, and read that letter! Out loud!

      ‘Er …

      and you’ll all be glad to know that Albert and I expect a brother or sister for Bas in six weeks. We didn’t announce it before this – things just might have gone wrong – but now I am safely seven months pregnant I feel I can uncross my fingers and give out our news. We are both delighted. We had intended visiting Pendenys Place as soon as it was safe to travel again, but decided against it for obvious reasons. However, when the babe is old enough we

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