Postcards from the Past (22 page)

Later, almost in a dream, she’d climbed the beautiful wooden staircase behind Mother Magda, turned down a corridor and followed her through a door into a kind of hall or passageway from which stairs twisted down again. At the bottom of the stairs was another door, which opened into a small vestibule with its own door to the outside.

‘You see, you are quite private here,’ said Mother Magda, opening the door to the left and motioning Tilly forward.

The room was big; a corner room with two windows looking south and another looking west. An armchair and small table were placed at one of the windows beside a bookcase, and a square table with two chairs stood beneath another. The bed was in a corner against the wall with a cabinet next to it. There was an old-fashioned wardrobe, a white-painted chest of drawers and a small washbasin. It was at least three times the size of Mr Potts’ bedroom and, with its mullioned windows and uneven floor, was full of charm.

She thought: I love it.

‘And here,’ announced Mother Magda proudly, ‘is your own bathroom.’

Tilly followed her across the narrow passage and into another big room. It had a huge bath with a shower fixed above it, a lavatory, and a basin. A built-in airing cupboard took up one wall and the sash window looked over the uneven roofscape of the old manor house. Mother Magda was watching her with hopeful eyes.

Tilly smiled at her. ‘The thing is,’ she said, ‘that I still don’t quite know what the exact job description is and if I could manage it.’

‘Oh, my dear, neither does any of us,’ said Mother Magda ruefully. ‘That’s rather the point, isn’t it? We are led forward and we hope and pray that we’re travelling in the right direction.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Tilly rather doubtfully. ‘I can see that it would be like that for you. It rather does go with your job, I imagine. Trust and faith are part of the spec.’

‘Exactly. And with yours, too, if you join us.’

Mother Magda looked anxious and Tilly could see that she was a worrier; her brow creased, her thin frame tensed as if ready for disaster, but her dark blue eyes were beautiful.

‘Sister Emily wanted to show you the flat,’ she said, ‘but I was rather worried that she would be over-keen and that you might feel we were pressuring you. She feels very strongly that you are exactly the right person for us. She is a very … enthusiastic person.’

‘I know. I think she’s brilliant,’ said Tilly.

‘Yes,’ agreed Mother Magda. ‘Yes, indeed. She is a very special person…’

She hesitated. She’d spoken very affectionately but with a certain weariness; as a parent might speak about a wayward, self-willed but beloved child. Tilly could imagine the unspoken end to the sentence ‘… but sometimes I would like to smack her very hard,’ and she grinned with such sudden sympathy and understanding that Mother Magda smiled back at her. All the anxiety lines and tension vanished into that wide, delighted smile, the blue eyes shone, and for that moment they were in complete accord.

‘If you are happy, then, I should like your permission to bring the subject up at Chapter on Friday morning,’ she said hopefully.

‘I would be very happy,’ Tilly said. ‘And then, perhaps, we could talk again.’

Now, remembering, Tilly picks up the chair, wondering if she is quite crazy. She hasn’t mentioned the interview to anyone yet but she wonders if Clem might already know. Surely, though, if he’d known he would have said something, given some hint? She wonders how to start the conversation and how he will react. At this moment Jakey, Harry and the dogs surge back into the kitchen, followed by Ed. Clem and Dom reappear, still talking about the history of the house, and Harry is dispatched to fetch the chair from the hall.

As they sit down around the table, Jakey watches in amazement as first Bear and then Bessie climb on to the old sagging sofa and settle down. Hercules stands beside them, sniffing at them, before settling down on the floor beside them. Jakey crouches down, he strokes Bear’s head but Bear is too exhausted by his afternoon’s activities to acknowledge him. He stretches out comfortably and begins to snore gently. Jakey pats Bessie, who gives him a brief lick, whilst Hercules thumps his tail on the floor.

Jakey remains crouched beside them. ‘I wish
we
had a dog,’ he says in the aggrieved tone of someone whose request has been denied many times.

‘So do I,’ says Tilly, much in the same tone, and Jakey looks at her quickly. For the first time he really sees Tilly as a person, rather than just another grown-up, and his interest quickens.

‘Won’t they let you have one either?’ he asks sympathetically, as one martyr to another.

Tilly shakes her head, making a little face of commiseration at him.

‘Certainly not while you’re staying in Mr Potts’ bedroom,’ says Dom firmly, and Tilly nods at Jakey, as if to say, ‘You see what I mean?’

‘When you find your own place,’ Dom goes on, selecting a sandwich, ‘then you can get your own dog.’

‘Well, as it happens,’ Tilly says indignantly, ‘I might have found my own place. I applied for a job yesterday at the retreat house and it’s got accommodation to go with it.’

The silence is absolute, and Tilly blushes a bright pink. She feels a complete fool; she can’t imagine what has made her speak out in front of everyone. She doesn’t dare look at Clem. But Jakey, watching her, feels an instinctive sympathy for her. It is as if Tilly is another child who has said something silly in front of the grown-ups and he wants to comfort her, to show solidarity. He gets up and goes to her and stands beside her.

‘Are you really going to live at Chi-Meur?’ he asks. ‘We’re going back to the Lodge soon. Couldn’t you have a dog there? Daddy says we could have a dog if someone would look after it while I’m at school and he’s at work. Oh.’ His eyes widen and begin to shine. ‘If you were there you could look after the dog for us.’ A better idea seizes his imagination. ‘We could share it.’ He turns to Clem. ‘We could, couldn’t we, Daddy?’

Clem, staring at him, thinks: this could be the connection. This could be the thing that could bring the three of us together. Walks with the dog on the cliffs, down to the beach …

‘Well,’ he says, ‘it’s certainly a thought. Remember, though, we can’t go back to the Lodge until the summer. But if Tilly thinks she could help out…’

‘I’d have to live in at the house for my job,’ says Tilly quickly. ‘But I’m sure we could manage a dog between us.’

She glances anxiously at Clem, who is watching her with that secret amused look, and she blushes again.

‘But,’ she adds, facing him down, ‘I might not get the job. My application has to go before the Chapter meeting.’

‘Oh, I think you’ll get it,’ he says. ‘I am invited to Chapter. Sister Emily and I will be rooting for you.’

Alec leans forward. ‘And remember what I told you about the S. E. E.,’ he murmurs in her ear.

‘We’ll have a dog,’ crows Jakey to Harry.

‘And don’t forget, mate,’ says Harry, ‘that I shall be back in the summer to go to college. I’ll bring Bessie over to see you all when I come home for weekends.’

At these last few words Dom catches Billa’s eye and they smile at each other. Alec sees the look of happiness that passes between them. Ed sits contentedly sipping his tea. His eyes, though fixed on Jakey, have a faraway look as if he is in another world, making his own story, about another boy, perhaps. Tilly is laughing and Clem raises his teacup to her. Jakey is already discussing the merits of particular dog breeds with Harry.

Alec sits back in his chair. He feels very much at home, as if, in these latter days, he has found another family, quite different from his own: disparate, unusual, but united by threads of the many different kinds of love. Now, Tilly is explaining about the job, which Clem seems to know more about than she does, and there is a general sense of optimism and wellbeing. Billa asks questions about the accommodation and Clem is explaining why the salary is not very high, given the responsibility of the job.

‘But if it’s all found,’ Dom says, ‘if accommodation and food is free, then you can add quite a bit to that.’

‘The important thing,’ says Ed, who has been roused from his reverie, ‘is that Tilly is happy and working with people she likes.’

‘Hear, hear,’ says Alec.

‘And she’ll be able to sneak out,’ says Harry enviously, ‘and go surfing.’

‘And we’ll have a dog,’ says Jakey firmly, lest this crucial fact should be forgotten in the excitement.

‘What sort of dog shall we have, Jakey?’ asks Tilly recklessly, wondering exactly how a dog will fit in with her new duties and hoping the nuns are animal-lovers. ‘A Newfoundland like Bear? Or a golden retriever like Bessie? Or a Labrador like Hercules?’

Jakey eats a second sausage roll as he reflects on the subject.

‘
Not
a Newfoundland,’ says Clem firmly. ‘Much too big.’

Instantly Jakey looks at Tilly, sensing she will be his ally. Tilly winks at him, shrugs.

‘They are a bit big,’ she says. ‘Very boisterous when they’re young. He might pull you over.’

Jakey nods judicially, letting everyone see that it’s his decision. ‘OK,’ he says.

‘It will require much thought,’ says Dom. ‘You might find a very nice rescue dog. Try the Cinnamon Trust. That’s where I found Bessie.’

‘I’ve got
The Observer’s Book of Dogs
in my study,’ says Ed to Jakey. ‘Would you like to see it?’

Jakey is off his chair in an instant; he runs round the table and grabs Tilly’s hand.

‘Come on,’ he says, and he and Tilly and Ed go out together.

‘“May I get down, please?”,’ mutters Clem under his breath, anxious that Jakey has not asked permission to leave the table but deciding not to make an issue of it.

‘Typical Ed,’ says Billa, cutting cake. ‘Books first, food second. Sorry, Clem. Not a good example for Jakey.’

‘It doesn’t matter now and again,’ says Clem. He sees that Dom is looking at him rather quizzically and wonders what Tilly’s godfather is making of him. ‘I’m sure Tilly will be happy at Chi-Meur,’ he says reassuringly. ‘The Sisters are very flexible and things tend to happen organically. I think she’ll enjoy it.’

‘I wasn’t fearing for Tilly,’ says Dom. ‘I was just wondering if they know what they’re taking on. I warn you that Tilly gets very enthusiastic about her work.’

‘Just what we need,’ says Clem cheerfully. ‘I’ll tell them that at Chapter tomorrow.’

‘You do that,’ says Dom affably, ‘and I look forward to seeing the experiment unfold. But perhaps I won’t invite anyone else to stay in Mr Potts’ bedroom. Not just yet.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Sarah hangs the washing out in the small paved courtyard behind the cottage. From where she stands, looking down the valley, she can see the village gardens where magnolias and camellias are in flower: cloudy shapes of cream and pink. The cottages huddle together, like old friends gossiping in the shelter of the small, steep fields where sheep are grazing, and she can hear the lambs’ high thin cries as they jostle and butt at their mothers’ flanks, nuzzling for milk.

She stands for a moment, the laundry basket at her feet, enjoying the sunshine and feeling calmer. Now that she and Dave have agreed to take on the house in Yelverton, and the move is going forward, a sense of peace has enveloped her. Dave is delighted that she and the boys will be so much nearer to the dockyard; that his journey will be so much shorter and easier. He’s talked of all the things they will do together and what fun it will be to go to the parties and social events connected with the ship that up until now have been simply impossible.

Sarah agrees with all this and says that she can’t wait to see the house. It’s odd that, knowing Tilly has got the job at Chi-Meur and that Clem and Jakey will be moving back into the Lodge in a few months’ time, things are different. Without the promotion of U-Connect to occupy her mind or the prospects of Tilly’s regular visits – not to mention Clem dropping in – it feels right to be moving on. After all, U-Connect can be set up anywhere; that is the beauty of it. But, somehow, she can’t quite imagine doing it without Tilly. She’s managing to be quite upbeat with Tilly, now; much more positive about her new prospects at the retreat house. It seems churlish to be otherwise when Tilly is so excited about it all.

‘I’ve got some really good marketing ideas,’ she told Sarah, when she’d come in to discuss the final intake of new punters. ‘I can see how we can target two separate groups. The couples or single people who come on what Sister Emily calls Holy Holidays and the others who come in a group on led retreats. We can have a different approach for each of them, make it much more focused. I’ve been googling other retreat houses, looking at their websites and the things that they’re doing. For instance, Epiphany House in Cornwall produces a lovely House Programme of events for the year. Things like that make such a difference.’

It becomes clear that Clem is going to be closely involved in these new plans and Sarah has managed to steer clear of any pointed remarks about their proximity once Tilly moves into the Priest’s Flat and Clem is back in the Lodge. In fact, Tilly hasn’t spoken of any personal aspect of the relationship apart from casually mentioning a dogs’ tea party with the St Enedocs and Sir Alec Bancroft, to which Clem and Jakey were invited. She seems more concerned by the fact that Harry will be leaving them very soon and how much she’ll miss him.

Sarah’s attention is caught by a bluetit who is examining the nest box that Sarah’s mother fixed to a holly tree on the boundary hedge years ago. He pecks at the rough wooden edging around the hole for a moment before disappearing inside. Presently his cross little face can be seen peering out and then he flies away. Sarah wonders if he’s pleased with it or whether he considers it too dingy; too small. Maybe he’ll return with his mate and they’ll discuss the merits of raising their family in it.

Rather like me and Dave going to Yelverton, she thinks.

The thought amuses her and she picks up the laundry basket and goes back indoors. It is dark inside after the brightness of the garden and she decides that it will be rather nice to live in big, light rooms with tall windows and high ceilings. She sits at the table in the kitchen and picks up the details of the Victorian house in Yelverton, which the owners have sent to her. She looks again at the room measurements and considers which bedroom will be right for Ben; she checks the little study that she can use for her next experiment with U-Connect. It raises her spirits to be planning like this and she wishes that Dave was with her, sharing his natural enthusiasm for any new project.