Part 9 (1/2)

'So long as it's not pensioners' night and it's child-free, I have no complaints.'

The pub was heaving, and after queuing for their drinks, they spied a free table in the garden overlooking the ca.n.a.l and the bridge. Further along, the towpath was busy with people mooring up for the night. When they were settled, she noticed that Miles's attention was caught by one particular boat, a beautiful sixty-foot traditional narrowboat. Its paintwork - red, black and green - was immaculate, and the bra.s.sware gleamed in the low evening sun. It was in excellent condition, not a mark or scratch on it, which meant it wasn't a hire boat; it had to be privately owned, about a hundred grand's worth.

'Ever thought you'd like to have a boat and just cruise away?' she asked him.

He looked back at her. 'We all think that at some time or other, don't we?'

'So why don't we do it?'

He blinked. 'You mean you and me?'

She smiled. 'No, I was talking generally. People dream of escaping, but they rarely do it.'

'The vast majority of people aren't brave enough. And, of course, there are those who are too tied down to do it.' He glanced away, his gaze once more drawn to the boat he'd been admiring.

Harriet took a moment to observe him. He'd always been the quieter and more thoughtful of the McKendrick boys. He had a sensitive, intelligent face with pale blue eyes. In all the years she had known him they had never argued and she had never stopped respecting the way he'd handled living in the shadow of such a difficult and dynamic brother. Dominic had to be the ultimate pain when it came to older brothers. As a highly regarded English don with a couple of slim books of poetry to his name it wouldn't occur to him that Miles was his equal. Or that anyone else was, for that matter.

As children, the four of them had been extraordinarily close, to the point of being a tight, self-sufficient clique. They had no need of any other friends; they had all the friends.h.i.+p they wanted. To this day, Harriet was convinced that this was the reason she found it difficult to fit in with other people and make new friends - she just hadn't learned the necessary skills at the age when most others do. After they'd all been through university they'd drifted apart, each doing their own thing. Felicity got married, Harriet started working for a small software house in Newbury, Miles went to London to work for a large chain of bookstores, and Dominic was offered a teaching job in the States at the University of Chicago.

Thinking about what Miles had just said, she asked him, 'So do you feel tied down?'

Again he looked back at her. 'Yes.' The starkness with which he uttered that one word made her sit up.

'But why?' she pressed. 'You're not married and have no real commitments to stop you doing whatever you want. You could sell the bookshop and - '

'I have a mother who's ill, Harriet,' he interrupted, his voice perfectly level.

'You have a father who can take care of her. She's not your responsibility.'

'You think I should just walk away and leave them to it? Like Dominic has?'

'It's an option.'

He looked her straight in the eye. 'Presumably that's the same option you could take. You could leave your parents to look after Felicity's kids.'

For a moment she didn't know what to say. Miles was the first person to broach the subject with her. No one had ever suggested she had a choice. That she could turn her back on her family ... could forget her promise to Felicity.

'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so blunt,' he said. 'But I'm right, aren't I?'

'I could walk away if I wanted to,' she admitted.

'You could, but you're missing the point. You won't walk because, like me, you have a strong sense of what's right and wrong.'

'That's not how I see it - right versus wrong.'

He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. 'We're two of a kind; we both have an innate sense of duty. You're either born with it or you're not. It's called loyalty and it means we play with the cards we're dealt. We do the best job we can.'

She sat back in her chair and felt a rush of affection towards her old friend. Inexplicably, she felt like hugging him. It was great sitting here with no children, no parents, just the two of them having a proper, grown-up conversation that wasn't subject to countless interruptions. A conversation that meant something. 'You have no idea how refres.h.i.+ng it is to talk to someone who understands,' she said at length.

'I think I understand all too well. And I have nothing but admiration for you.'

Harriet took a long swallow of her lager and watched a pair of swans gliding past on the other side of the ca.n.a.l. When they disappeared behind the fronds of the willow branches dipping into the still, languid water, she looked up and noticed the sun was slipping lower in the sky, turning it hazy. 'People think that because I loved Felicity,' she said quietly, 'it must follow that I'm crazy about her children. But I'm not. I can't help it, but that's the truth. Children have never interested me. Does that sound as awful to you as it just did to me?'

'I have even less experience with kids than you, but my guess is the important thing is that you're there for them. That they know they can rely on you. They need stability and I reckon you'd be better than most at providing that. Okay, you might not be made from the conventional mother mould, but that might just work to the children's advantage.'

She suddenly smiled. 'You know what? I think we should do this again. You're good for me. To be honest, I'd been feeling guilty that I didn't seem able to - ' She broke off, distracted by the sight of a tall, slim man on the other side of the beer garden carrying two gla.s.ses of wine in his hands and a packet of crisps between his teeth. There was something comical about the way he was weaving his way through the tables and chairs, and the way his hair had flopped down in front of his eyes and was adding to his problems. It was only when he'd reached his table and was able to remove the crisp packet from his mouth and push back his hair that she recognised him: Will Hart. He was with an attractive blonde girl who laughed when he kissed her on the top of her head. She had to be about half his age. Typical, Harriet thought with disgust.

'Someone you know?' asked Miles, following her gaze.

She explained who it was. 'Do you know him?'

'I know of him. His ex-wife's an auctioneer in Maywood; she runs Stone's. Do you know it?'

'No. But I know he's into antiques.'

'He is now, but apparently he used to be a hotshot lawyer, had some kind of breakdown and then got into the antique trade. He has a place here in Kings Melford, took it over from a real old character, Jarvis Cooper. You must have heard of him.'

She laughed. 'Sorry, but the grapevine must have run out of branches; the news didn't reach me down in Oxford.'

'He's not new news, so to speak. He was around when we were kids. Hart's Antique Emporium is in what used to be The Tavern, the old coaching inn opposite the square; it's been owned by the Cooper family for years.'

Harriet vaguely recalled something about a shoe shop or a cobbler. But still thinking of Will Hart, she said, 'He doesn't look the sort to have a breakdown. He looks too ...' She sought to find the right words. 'He looks too laid back and untroubled.'

'Perhaps he has life sussed. Doesn't feel the need to escape like the rest of us.'

'How do you know so much about everyone?'

'I own a bookshop where people congregate to gossip over coffee and occasionally contemplate buying a book. I always knew I'd end up doing some kind of community service.'

'Hey, no whingeing allowed! You know you love that bookshop.'

'Actually, I do. The customers are great, and surprisingly loyal. They like the individual touch we offer. The nothing's-too-much-trouble approach we small businesses are famous for still means something to a lot of people.'

'I'm glad to hear it.'

'Have you started looking for a job yet?'

'I spent today putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches to my CV and now that it's polished to within an inch of its life, I'm going to email it out to as many agencies as I can.'

'You wouldn't consider a change of direction, then?'

'No chance. I love the geeky world of computer programming.' She put a hand to her heart. 'I always knew it was my destiny, darling.'

He smiled. 'Felicity used to be so proud of you, you know.'

'Really?'