Love (2 page)

“
Oh yes my sister moved out to Sydney with her husband three years ago now. I’ve been out to see them ...”

Karen leant back and let the sound of his voice wash over her as he described in minute detail his three month visit, his
sister’s family, the beer, the scenery, a trip to a koala sanctuary etc. etc. They turned down the long winding road to the Cove. Lights were being turned on in the small cottages as the winter light faded away over the sea.

“
Where now, my love?” the taxi driver asked.

“T
urn left at the bottom just beyond the village store and then go all the way to the end. It’s the last cottage on the right before the gates of the big house at the end.”

The driver waited while Karen ran over
to the bungalow across the way to collect the keys and a somewhat overexcited Humphrey. Mrs Pengelly insisted on accompanying Karen back to the taxi and then into the house, talking all the time about this and that. Karen tried to reassure her that she knew where all the switches for the lights and boilers were but it took a good quarter of an hour before she could finally usher Mrs Pengelly back out of the door and into the night.

Karen shut the door behind her and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well Humphrey I don’t know about you but I could do with some dinner. Let’s see what Gran left in the fridge for us.”

Humphrey wagged his wiry white tail and followed her happily into the bright yellow kitchen. The Aga was lit - Thank you, Mrs Pengelly, thought Karen, as she warmed her hands above its comforting bulk. The fridge was packed and suddenly Karen felt hungry. What to have? There was a nice shiny cass
erole dish with a label saying ‘first night’s stew’ and tucked behind it was a brown pottery bowl covered with foil and a label saying ‘sweets for the sweet’. Karen peeked inside - creamy rice pudding with raisins and nutmeg. The same meal Gran had always given them on their first night in Cornwall for the summer holidays. Humphrey gave a reproving woof.

“
Oh, Humphrey, I’m sorry. I haven’t forgotten you.” Humphrey was almost ten years old now, he was a wiry Jack Russell cross with a piratical black patch over one eye. She opened the cupboard and took down one of Humphrey’s dinners, filled his water and then turned her attention once again to her own meal.

While it warmed Humphrey, happy at last, settled himself into his basket next to the
stove, Karen opened the letter her grandmother had left for her:

My dear Karen,

Thank you again for coming. I hope you have recovered from Mrs Pengelly - she does mean well, I think. I have left food in the fridge and some more in the freezer in the store room. All the bills are paid by Direct Debit so you needn’t worry about that. Mr Carthew, my bank manager, whom you know, has instructions to cash cheques drawn on my account weekly for your expenses. The mini is in my garage and Sean up at the garage on the main road will take care of any problems and bill me later.

You may remember from long ago the neighbour up at the ‘big house’, Adam Chancellor. When my dear friend, Adele, died, she left her house to her grandson, Adam. He is quite special, I think, and if you need a man for something I am sure he is the one!! Of course, when you knew him, Adam that is, he was just a boy, a little older than you. He may have babysat all of you on one occasion. Rather a serious lad, I think you found him.

Love,

Your
old Gran

Karen smiled. She was sure she would not need a man for anything but if she did it certainly wouldn’t be Adam Chancellor. She remembered him very well indeed. In fact certain scenes were engraved on her memory. Gran was right he had babysat for them but that was not her only encounter with that ‘rather serious lad’.

She managed, surprisingly, to eat not only the delicious stew but to leave only a
tiny bit of rice pudding in the bottom of the bowl for a rather disappointed Humphrey. Gran had always insisted on gallons of hot water for baths so Karen steamed off the last traces of London before slipping into the crisp lavender-scented sheets under the faded old-fashioned patchwork quilt she had always loved. Humphrey stood next to the bed looking up at her with soulful black eyes.

“
Okay, Humphrey,” she patted the bed and the little dog jumped up and curled up happily next to her feet. It had been a long day and though she was physically tired she was not sleepy. The trip plus the reckless sexual encounter kept her mind racing. She felt almost excited just as she had when she was a little girl on her first night in the cottage. She sat back in bed and looked out the window. She could see the lights on up at the house behind. It was the Chancellor house.

Memories of Adam
Chancellor came flooding back. He had been the bossy boy who had confiscated the fudge Amanda and she had been making in the kitchen. She remembered it quite clearly. James and Adam had been playing chess in the sitting room and she and Amanda had been happily heating butter and sugar on the Aga. Admittedly the sugar had turned rather brown and smoky and Amanda had been squeaking but there had been no need to march in and take the pot and run it under the cold tap. What’s more he had delivered a lecture on safety and cooking with sugar to the two sulky girls! No, he had certainly not been a favourite then.

She also remembered Adele, her grandmother
’s best friend for many years singing the praises of her grandson. Adam was always rescuing seabirds that had gotten into trouble or finding other stray creatures to look after. In fact, he had often been held up as a shining example to them. He had been quite a good-looking boy. Rather thin and weedy though quite tall.

Later they had had to listen to endless stories of Adam
’s academic success first in GCSEs, twelve grade As at least. As if that hadn’t been enough, there had been five equally brilliant A levels and entry to Oxford. It had become something of a family joke, measuring up to Adam, as they were always being exhorted to follow his shining example. They had not seen much of him in his high school years but when he went to university he took to coming down during the summers with various friends.

This was the Adam that Karen remembered particularly well. He had grown into a tall, broad-shouldered, young man with a shock of brown curly hair. He was always beautifully tanned and Karen and Amanda would often watch him with his friends when they went surfing down in the Cove. At fourteen Karen was just becoming interested in boys and she had develo
ped a crush on their erstwhile baby-sitter. He, of course, seemed to take no notice them. They were, after all, only schoolgirls.

That summer that she had first fallen in love had been long and one of the hottest on record. She had spent much time mooning around hoping that he would notice her. She and Amanda had attracted some boys of about their own age and Amanda was enjoying a minor romance with the son of the store owners. Karen hated the way she towered over all the boys her age. She was already close to five foot eight and very slender. She also found that she had nothing to talk to them about as she could not be bothered with football or cars which seemed to be their chief interests in life.

She had felt sure that if she could only spend some time with Adam and his friends they would soon find out
how mature she was for her age. The big event of the summer was the final disco at the Trelawney Hotel which was on the last Saturday night before the end of the school holiday. Amanda had been looking forward to it for ages as she had no fears of ending up as a wallflower. Karen had been less sure that she wanted to stand around looking awkward without a partner. So often she had ended up spending half the evening in the ladies or loitering somewhere pretending to be nonchalant.

However, Amanda had begged her to come as their grandmother had not been keen on them going out at night
alone. She could still remember what she had been wearing that night. She had been brown as a berry after the summer on the beach and she had been longing to wear a very simple white cotton sundress with thin straps and embroidered flowers around the neckline. She had surprised herself when she looked in the mirror. She looked much older than her fourteen years and quite glamorous. James, her brother, had even been moved to give an admiring wolf whistle. She had not needed stockings or tights but had worn her favourite strappy Italian sandals which showed off her long brown bare legs. Gran had given her a rather worried look and had told James to be sure to escort his sisters home at the end of the disco.

The dance had started off much as usual: girls on one side of the room, gangs of boys on the other. The boys had spent a lot of the early part of the evening going in and out, presumably drinking in the hotel garden. Karen had found herself more popular than she had expected. In fact, she had not had to hide away in the ladies
’ loo at all. The evening must have been half gone when she had seen Adam and a couple of his friends come in the main hotel door. She had wondered whether they were going to the bar or coming to the disco.

She had been standing looking out at the beach through one of the big bay windows when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She swung round to come face to face with Adam
Chancellor. He said hello and asked if she remembered him. Of course she did. She was surprised that he even knew her name. He asked her to dance and she had been disappointed when after a quick dance he left her and disappeared again. Towards the end of the night he reappeared, just when the lights were dimmed and the music slow and smoochy.

He
came back and simply held out a hand to her. They danced cheek to cheek with his arms wrapped around her. He didn’t say much. Karen had been in seventh heaven. He was even more gorgeous close up. He was so much taller than she was that for the first time she had felt really comfortable dancing.

When the music stopped he
took her hand and led her through the crowd, out of the French windows, down the steps and into the hotel garden. The night air was fragrant with honeysuckle and the palm trees were silhouetted against the night sky, it had seemed to Karen as glamorous a place as any she had seen in films. Then he bent his head and kissed her, a soft warm searching kiss. Her whole being had thrilled to his touch and she was embarrassed at how flushed she’d got, and wondered if he noticed. Then, just as suddenly as he’d begun he pushed her away and she could still remember the exact words he’d said:

“
I’m sorry, Karen, you’re far too young. I don’t know what I was thinking about. You’re looking very beautiful tonight and I forgot how old you are.”

Without further ado he led her back inside, bought her a soft drink, deposited her on a chair
, and walked off. She hadn’t seen him since that evening but the memory still hurt. How had he dared to dump her so unceremoniously? She’d felt humiliated and embarrassed although now when she thought about it she realised he had behaved quite decently, though somehow, at fourteen, it had not seemed that way.

Karen found
that she was growing sleepy remembering that heady summer. Humphrey had been snoring gentle doggy snores for some time now. Her last thought before she fell asleep was that she wouldn’t be running after Adam Chancellor this time.

Karen
woke up feeling different. For a moment she was disoriented and then she remembered where she was. The fresh sea air had made her sleep more deeply than she usually slept in London and her dreams had been incredibly intense. She looked over at the bedside clock and saw that it was almost eight o’clock. She must let Humphrey out.

She slipped on
the ancient pink candlewick robe that she’d had since she was a teenager and a pair of equally battered old slippers and trundled down the stairs, Humphrey eagerly following at her heels. She opened the front door noticing that she hadn’t bolted it overnight. What a change from London and the chains and safety bolts. She followed Humphrey into the garden. Although it was January, they had obviously not had a hard frost down here and there were still a few hardy purple and white rock daisies. The roar of the surf competed with the chattering of the starlings who were fighting over a clump of ground ivy berries.

The cottage stood square in its garden of just over an acre facing down towards the sea. The gate at the front of the garden opened on to the path leading down to the beach. The garden was hidd
en from its neighbours by tall Escalonia hedges and two rows of very productive apple trees at the back sheltered the cottage from the road. The white-gated driveway wound down from the road to the garage at the side of the cottage. The cottage itself was late eighteenth century but had been expanded and improved many times. Her grandmother’s light and spacious studio was above the garage.

Karen watched as Humphrey chased off the greedy starlings and then, feeling the chill of the morning despite the pale winter sunlight she wrapped her gown closer around her slender waist and hurried back into the cosy kitchen. Suddenly the thought of fresh hot coffee was terribly tempting and she set about grinding some of the coffee beans from the fridge. Soon the kitchen was filled with the heady aroma of fresh perked coffee and farmhouse bread toasting under the grill. Karen opened a jar of blackberry jam neatly
identified with her grandmother’s hand-painted label.