The Girl by the River (26 page)

Kate looked at Tessa with passion in her eyes. ‘Don’t go off with that hippie,’ she pleaded. ‘Try and made a decent life for yourself – please try and get through
school, Tessa. I want to see you happily married to a nice man one day. Promise me you’ll try.’

Tessa sighed. ‘I’ll try,’ she said, and added another load to the emotional baggage she was already carrying. And the dream of finding Art grew ever brighter.

1963

GIRLS IN BLACK

Tessa leaned out of her window to watch Freddie drive away in his new mink-brown Rover 90. She caught a glimpse of his blue eyes, full of emotion, seeking the last contact with
her from under his cap. He didn’t smile. She stood in the window with mixed feelings, watching the back of his car getting smaller and smaller. At the end of the long drive it turned left,
accelerated, and was finally gone.
I’m alone
, she thought,
alone in the world
.

‘This is like a blimin’ rabbit hutch!’ Freddie had said when they’d arrived and found the low, black-timbered huts of an old army barracks, now converted into
students’ bedrooms. Tessa had found his comment funny, and endearing. She imagined her mother laughing when Freddie got home and said that.

A sense of euphoria swept over her when she turned to look at her room. It was small. The narrow bed against the wall was covered by a blanket with arty splodges of subtle colour. The floor had
yellow lino which gave it a sunny feel. There was a slim white wardrobe, chest of drawers, and an oval mirror set in a recess with a square of Formica top and a tubular, canvas chair. Along the
wall over the bed was a high shelf which seemed like a gift.
This is my place
, Tessa thought joyfully.
I can do what I like
!

She threw herself on the bed, propped her feet against the wall, and lay looking at the ceiling of Room 11 in Hut 5, planning how she would cover it with her postcard collection and her pictures
of Selwyn. She listened to the sounds of other girls arriving, and decided to fix her hair first. She undid her suitcase and pulled out some narrow ribbons, choosing purple, turquoise, and lime
green. Her hairbrush was right at the bottom so she tipped everything onto the bed in a chaotic heap, then sat on the canvas chair in front of the mirror. Separating one strand of her chestnut
hair, she divided it into three, and plaited the ribbons into it, making a long, multi-coloured braid on one side of her head. It made her look interesting, and different, she hoped, and the
turquoise complemented her pale blue eyes. She found the little tie-dyed make-up bag she’d made at Hilbegut, and applied silver eyeshadow and midnight blue mascara.

Kate had insisted that she arrived ‘looking respectable’.
Freedom
! she thought, and tore off the Donegal tweed skirt and hand-knitted sweater that Annie had made in maroon
red, a colour Tessa loathed. She flung them up to hit the ceiling, like wild escaping mallards, and stuffed them under the bed, right into the far corner. She put on her new black jeans, and one of
Freddie’s old shirts which she had tie-dyed in purple.

Leaving everything in a heap, she strolled outside, feeling like an art student and hoping she looked cool and experienced. Discreetly observing more students arriving with fussing parents,
Tessa headed for a group of lofty elm trees that shaded the lawn. She touched them and gazed up into the bushy branches. The leaves were old and bottle green at this end of summer, and deeper into
the garden was a sumach tree already turning fiery pink and orange, its blade-like leaves flickering like flames. Tessa had never seen a sumach tree and she sat down under it, then lay on her back,
hypnotised by the fire of its colour against the blue sky.
What a feast for an artist
, she thought.

‘Excuse me, are you in Room 11?’ said a voice.

Tessa sat up, and saw a girl with a wide smile that reached the tips of the two curls in her perfect shining bell of dark hair. She had eyes greener than Somerset. ‘Hiya mate. I’m
Jen, from London – and I’m next door to you in Room 10. I dig the shirt! And the braid. You look like an interesting character.’

Tessa beamed. ‘Hiya!’

‘What’s yer name?’

‘Tessa.’

‘Want a coffee? We’re making a brew up. Come and join us. Got yer mug unpacked? I can lend you one if you haven’t.’ Jen talked fast, moving her mouth extravagantly, and
she hardly gave Tessa space to reply before gabbling on to her next thought. ‘What d’ya think of this place? Right dump, in’t it? Out in the bloody back of beyond. Gives me the
creeps. All them flipping trees and green fields. Boring, aren’t they? Come on then – Tessa – you coming or not?’

‘If you want me to.’

‘Course I want you to, ya ’nana. Come on.’ Jen stretched out a wiry white arm and pulled Tessa to her feet. ‘Cor, you’re tall. You could be a model. Where are you
from?’

‘Monterose – in Somerset.’

Fascinated, Tessa walked with Jen into Hut 5. At the end of the hut was a room with a row of boiling rings, a fridge, kettle and two irons. Jen put five mugs on a tray. ‘You shovel coffee,
and I’ll do the milk,’ she said, handing Tessa a teaspoon.

‘All five?’ asked Tessa.

‘Yeah, I said – we’re having a brew up.’

Tessa carried the laden tray down to Jen’s room, slightly nervous about meeting the other three girls. Years of being a loner and getting pushed out of peer groups at school had made her
socially anxious. She still hadn’t found a real friend, even at Hilbegut. The girls there had been mostly from rich families and talked about exotic holidays abroad, shopping in London, and
boyfriends. Tessa had kept the boys at arm’s length, much to her mother’s dismay.

‘Coffee up! This is Tessa. She’s my mate next door in Room 11,’ Jen said. ‘Come on, move up, you two.’

Two girls sat on the bed, their backs against the wall. ‘Mel and Noni,’ said Jen, ‘and this is Faye.’

Mel and Noni smiled at Tessa, and she sat down on the bed. They couldn’t have been more different. Mel was plump, bright-eyed and reassuring. She didn’t look at all like an art
student. Noni was tiny, with chicken-bone wrists covered in silver bangles. Her face was old, her eyes calm and mysterious.

Faye was sitting on an orange cushion on the floor. She didn’t smile, but glanced shrewdly at Tessa, the whites of her eyes huge and dramatic, looking out from caves of heavy black
eyeliner and mascara. Her mouth was surly and her cheeks hollow.

‘Faye’s on the other side of you, in Room 12,’ Jen said, ‘and she’s got a flipping great cello in there. I hope you like music, Tessa!’

Tessa wasn’t sure what a cello was, so she kept quiet, exchanging hostile stares with Faye.
She looks like an insect
, Tessa thought,
ready to sting
! She felt Faye’s
eyes raking her over, criticising every detail of her clothes, her hair, her face. She remembered that Faye had been sitting alone under the elm trees, smoking, and watching her arrive in
Freddie’s Rover 90, smirking at everything they unloaded, especially her brand new BSA bike, and her mother’s personalised leather suitcase with
Oriole Kate Loxley
embossed on
the lid.

‘Have you got your letter, Tessa?’ Jen said as they tucked in to Mel’s chocolate-coated digestives and fig rolls.

‘What letter?’

‘It’s got your grant cheque in it – and your timetable, and what group you’re in. It should be in your room.’

Tessa fetched the smooth white envelope from her room and sat down again on Jen’s bed. She tore it open. Inside was a cheque from Somerset County Council for £1,300. She stared at it
with round eyes.

‘Your face!’ Jen laughed. ‘It’s a lot, isn’t it? But it’s got to last you a whole year, and you have to buy all your art materials with it – and clothes
– and travel –’

‘We’re going to Bath tomorrow to get black duffle coats,’ Mel said. ‘Want to come? We’re hitching.’

‘Hitching? What’s that?’ Tessa asked.

Faye looked at her scathingly.

‘Where’ve you been all your life?’ Jen asked, but her green eyes were kind and humorous. ‘Hitchhiking. You stand at the side of the road, stick your thumb out, and
someone stops and gives you a lift, especially if you look like a student. That’s why we need black duffle coats and college scarves. I can see we’re gonna have to educate you, Tessa!
– But don’t look so worried, we’ll look after you, won’t we girls?’

Everyone smiled, except Faye, who now looked bored and was picking threads out of the knee of her black tights, and winding them tightly round her finger.

‘So what group are you in, Tessa?’ Mel asked.

Tessa unfolded her letter which was on
Bath Academy of Art
headed paper. She glared at it. ‘There must be a mistake,’ she said. ‘They’ve put me in the Photography
Group. I don’t want to do THAT!’

‘Yeah, we’ve all got the same issues,’ said Jen. ‘I’m in the Textiles group and I can’t stand sewing. If God wants to punish me when he gets me up there,
he’ll sit me down with a needle and thread.’

‘We’re in Ceramics,’ said Mel, ‘and I’ve never made a pot in my life.’

‘Give it here.’ Jen took Tessa’s letter out of her hand and scanned it with her green eyes. ‘It’s not just Photography – you’re in Painting as well
– same as me – and look, you’ve got three subsidiaries – Calligraphy – what the heck’s that?’

‘Lettering,’ Tessa said. ‘I HATE lettering.’

‘. . . and Sculpture,’ continued Jen, ‘and Visual Communication – we’ve all got that.’

Tessa could feel her face going hot.
I’ve been here an hour
, she thought,
and they’re telling me what to do
. She stuffed the anger into the far corner of her mind,
aware that Faye’s big eyes were watching her in a calculating way. Waiting to see her fall apart.

‘You’ve got to go along with it,’ Jen said. ‘We’re first years – the lowest of the low – and it’s only work, Tessa. The rest of it’s going
to be fun.’

‘Fun?’ Tessa felt herself disappearing into a familiar black hole. ‘Fun’ was another word that clicked her defences into place. Fun meant failure. Fun meant
rejection.

‘Don’t worry, Tessa.’ Mel looked at her with kind, bright eyes. ‘We’ll look after you. We’re all in the same boat.’

‘Yeah – you stick with us and you’ll be okay,’ said Jen. ‘Here y’are – have another biscuit.’

‘I’ll never get my fat legs into those,’ Kate said, eyeing the slim pair of jodhpurs Susan had pulled out of a drawer. ‘Haven’t you got a bigger
pair?’

‘No.’ Susan frowned. She caught the twinkle of mischief in Kate’s eyes. ‘You could borrow a pair of Ian’s trousers.’

‘Will he mind?’

‘He won’t know. He’s gone to an auction.’

Giggling, the two women raided Ian’s wardrobe which smelled of cedar wood and red wine. ‘How about these?’ Susan dragged out a pair of cavalry twill trousers and held them
against Kate who stood there in her blouse and petticoat.

‘They’re miles too long,’ Kate said, laughing. ‘They’ll be in concertinas round my ankles.’

‘You can roll them up. Go on, put them on.’ Susan threw the trousers at Kate, her eyes sparkling with fun. ‘Ian won’t know. Men never know what clothes they’ve got,
do they? Come on – take your Charlie off. You can’t ride a horse with yards of lace petticoat flying.’

Kate grinned wickedly at Susan, and stepped into the heavy pair of trousers. She stuffed her petticoat down inside, and fastened the leather belt. The two women stood in front of the mirror
laughing at Kate’s reflection. ‘Well!’ she said, ‘I look ready for the sack race. Let’s hope nobody sees me.’

In high spirits they skipped downstairs and headed for the stables. It was the first time Kate had had any fun for years. She’d met Susan in the post office and Susan had noticed how pale
and tired her friend looked. ‘Come home with me, and have a ride, Kate,’ she’d said. ‘You must be feeling lonely with Tessa gone to Art College. It’ll do you good to
have a ride.’

It was doing her good, Kate thought. The laughing and larking about with Susan was something she had missed. The endless washing and ironing, cooking and cleaning, keeping Annie happy, and
coping with her two girls had taken its toll. Kate was exhausted, and Freddie hadn’t noticed. He was preoccupied with his engines, his stone carving, and the vegetable garden. They both fell
into bed at the end of the day, mentally and physically tired, and lovemaking was last on the list.

There was an uneasy truce with Lucy. After the miscarriage Kate had persuaded her to enrol for a secretarial course at Taunton Tech. Lucy caught the train every day to Taunton and often came
home late, but she’d stuck to her course and found a job with a firm of solicitors in Taunton. Kate knew she wasn’t happy, and her relationship with Freddie had been damaged, it seemed,
forever. Freddie was silent and grim-faced in Lucy’s company, and there was an occasional flare-up, usually about the length of Lucy’s skirt or the smell of alcohol on her breath. Kate
found her own role as peacemaker very stressful, and getting Tessa off to college had been yet another emotional rollercoaster.

Kate knew Freddie didn’t want her to go horse-riding, especially with Ian Tillerman around, and she tried to respect his wishes. But this morning she felt rebellious. With the October
countryside basking in an Indian summer, she wanted to be cantering through the sunlit woods with Susan.

‘I haven’t been on a horse for years,’ Kate said as they saddled up in stables next door to each other, and led the horses into the yard.

‘You’ll be all right on Toby,’ Susan said. ‘He’s very steady. Lexi uses him sometimes, for teaching.’

‘He’s gorgeous.’ Kate gave the kindly black horse a hug round his solid neck. His dark eyes were peaceful and he stood rocklike while she turned the stirrup to her foot and
swung herself up, her heart beating hard with excitement. She adjusted the stirrup leathers and gathered the reins. ‘Let’s hope these trousers don’t fall down!’

Kate loved being out in the soft October light, trotting past orchards where trees were laden to the floor with heavy scarlet apples, and standing up in her stirrups to pick clusters of pale
green hazelnuts from the lush foliage of coppiced hazels. Entering the woods, the horses walked peacefully, side by side, the path ahead lit by a shaft of sun slanting through the beeches. The
woods created silence, the horses’ hooves making no sound on the carpet of leaf mould, the contented, magic quiet that didn’t need conversation. Kate didn’t want the ride to end.
She felt healed by a joy she had forgotten, a sense of being fully alive and awake, and part of the planet in its ripest, most rich, abundant harvest time.