Part 10 (2/2)
”That's a good girl. Now, no more tears.” And, satisfied that she had poured oil on troubled waters, Mrs. Parsons sat back in her seat and picked up the newspaper again. But presently, disquieted, disturbed by something, she lowered the paper and saw that Virginia was watching her, unblinking, an expression in her dark eyes that her mother had never seen before.
”What is it?”
Virginia said, ”He said he'd phone. He promised he'd telephone me.”
”Well?”
”Did he? You didn't like him, I know. Did you take the call and never tell me?”
Her mother never hesitated. ”Darling! What an accusation. Of course not. You surely didn't think . . . ?”
”No,” said Virginia dully as the last flicker of hope died. ”No, I never thought.” And she turned to lean her forehead against the smeared gla.s.s of the train window, and the rocketing countryside, together with everything else that had happened, streamed away, for ever, into the past.
That was April. In May Virginia met up again with an old schoolfriend, who invited her down to the country for the week-end.
”It's my birthday, darling, too super, Mummy says I can ask anyone I like, you'll probably have to sleep in the attic, but you won't mind, will you? We're such a madly disorganized family.”
Virginia, taking all this with a pinch of salt, accepted the invitation. ”How do I get there?”
”Well, you could catch a train, and someone could meet you, but that's so dreadfully boring. I tell you what, my cousin's probably coming, he's got a car, he'll maybe give me a lift. I'll speak to him and see if he's got room for you. You'll probably have to squeeze in with the luggage or sit on the gear lever, but anything's better than fighting the crowds at Waterloo ...”
Rather surprisingly, she duly arranged this. The car was a dark blue Mercedes coupe, and once Virginia's luggage had been crammed into the over-loaded boot, she was invited to squash herself into the front seat, between the girlfriend and the cousin. The cousin was tall and fair, with long legs and a grey suit and hair that curled in ducks' tails from beneath the brim of his forward-tilted brown trilby hat.
His name was Anthony Keile.
Chapter 6.
Travel-worn and tired, and with all the problems of Bosithick still to be faced, Virginia got out of the train at Penzance, took a lungful of cool sea air, and was thankful to be back. The tide was low, the air strong with the smell of seaweed. Across the bay, St. Michael's Mount stood gold in the evening sun, and the wet sands were streaked with blue, where small streams and shallow pools of sea-water gave back the colour of the sky.
Miraculously, here was a porter. As they followed him and his barrow out of the station Nicholas said, ”Is this where we're going to stay?”
”No, we've got to drive over to Lanyon.”
”How are we going to drive?”
”I told you, I left my car here.”
”How do you know it hasn't been stolen?”
”Because I can see it, waiting for us.”
It took some time to pack all their belongings into the boot of the Triumph. But in the end it was all piled in, crowned by the cardboard crate of groceries, and Virginia tipped the porter and they got in, all three of them in the front seat, with Cara in the middle, and the door on Nicholas's side firmly locked.
She had put down the hood and then tied a scarf around her head, but the wind blew Cara's hair forward all over her face.
”How long will it take us to get there?”
”Not long, about half an hour.”
”What does the house look like?”
”Why don't you wait and see?”
At the top of the hill she stopped the car, and they looked back to see the view, the lovely curve of Mount's Bay, still and blue, enclosed in the warmth of the day that was over. And all about them were little fields, and ditches blue with wild scabious, and they went on and dropped into a miniature valley filled with ancient oak trees, and a stream ran beneath a bridge, and there was an old mill and a village, and then the road twined up on to the moor again, and all at once the straight bright horizon of the Atlantic lay before them, glittering to the westward in a dazzle of sun.
”I thought the sea was behind us,” said Nicholas. ”Is that another sea?”
”I suppose it is.”
”Is that our sea? Is that the one we're going to use?”
”I expect so.”
”Is there a beach?”
”I haven't had time to look. There are certainly a lot of steep cliffs.”
”I want a beach. With sand. I want you to buy me a bucket and spade.”
”All in good time,” said Virginia. ”How about taking things one at a time?”
”I want to buy a bucket and spade tomorrow.”
They joined the main road and turned east, running parallel to the coast. They left Lanyon village behind them and the road which led to Penfolda, and they climbed the hill and came to the clump of leaning hawthorns which marked the turning to Bosithick.
”Here we are!”
”But there's no house.”
”You'll see.”
b.u.mped and jarred, the car and its occupants lurched down the lane. From beneath them came sinister banging sounds, the great gorse bushes closed in at either side, and Cara, anxious for their provisions, reached back a hand to hang on to the grocery carton. They swung around the last corner with a final lurch, ran up on to the gra.s.s bank at a frightening angle, and stopped with a jerk. Virginia put on the hand-brake, turned off the engine. And the children sat in the car and stared at the house.
In Penzance there had been no wind, the air was milky and breathlessly warm. Here, there was a faint whining, a coolness. The broken was.h.i.+ng line stirred in the breeze and the long gra.s.s at the top of the stone hedge lay flattened like a fur coat, stroked by a hand.
And there was something else. Something was wrong. For a moment Virginia stared, trying to think what it was. And then Cara told her. ”There's smoke in the chimney!' said Cara.
Virginia s.h.i.+vered, a frisson of unease, like a trickle of cold water ran down her spine. It was as though they had caught the house unawares, they had not been expected by the nameless, unimagined beings who normally occupied it.
Cara felt her disquiet. ”Is anything wrong?”
”No, of course not.” She sounded more robust than she felt. ”I was just surprised. Let's go and investigate.”
<script>