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Authors: Connie Monk

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BOOK: The Healing Stream
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Once inside the cottage he closed the front door, then standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders, leant against it, pulling her nearer. ‘You said, “Let’s just go home”. And here we are – home.’ It seemed to her that his voice was a caress.

Lowering his hands from her shoulders, he cupped her breasts in his palms. Could this really be happening to her? He sensed the change in her breathing – shallow, quick breaths as she moved into realms unknown. Although it was only May the day had been warm and coming out in the evening she had thrown her cardigan on to the back seat of the car. Under the silk of her new blouse there was nothing except a satin bra. She closed her eyes, leaning against him as the movement of his thumbs worked its magic. ‘Giles. Giles,’ she whispered so softly it was hardly a sound at all, ‘never knew . . . want . . . want . . .’ But she hardly knew what it was she yearned for, only that she was being lifted away from all coherent thought and longing for something just out of her reach.

‘You want . . . I want . . . but we can’t Tessa, not here, not like this in some stolen furtive few moments.’

‘It couldn’t be furtive, not if we love each other.’ She turned towards him, her arms tightly gripping him, her body pressed against his. ‘You want, I want . . . I’ve never felt like this, sort of tingly all over my body. Is that what happens when people make love?’

‘We could find paradise together, you and me. And we will, my blessed Tessa.’ He moved his chin against her head. ‘But when we make love I want us to go to sleep in each other’s arms and to wake to a new day, and to love again, again and again.’

‘I want that too, but . . . but . . . now . . .’ Taking his hand she drew it again to her breast, longing for what she had felt before and yet half frightened of the sensation she couldn’t control.

‘Tessa, no. We shouldn’t have come here. I could pick you up and carry you to my bed. God knows it’s what I want. I want to bring your beautiful body alive. I want to be the man who teaches you the joy of loving. But not here, not like this.’

‘Now – this year – next year – and
always
– it has to be you. I could never be with any man but you.’

Giles held her away from him, looking at her in the fading light inside the low-ceilinged cottage. Outside it would be an hour before dusk but here, surrounded by trees, night was already falling. If Tessa had experienced a sensation new to her, it was one born of nature; what Giles felt as he looked at her was something he had never before experienced. She was so young, so untouched, her eyes shining with love, her body silently crying out for him to satisfy the hunger he had aroused in her. It had never been in his character to let himself be steered off course, so what was different with Tessa? Forty years old, a confirmed bachelor, could it be that he had fallen in love? He seemed to stand outside himself as he heard himself reply to her.

‘This year – next year – always . . .’ Raising her face to his, tenderly he kissed her forehead. ‘But this isn’t the time or the place. We’ll go away. Take a holiday, even a week. You haven’t made arrangements yet, have you?’

‘No. But Giles, can you imagine Uncle Richard giving his blessing for us to go off together? Even if we tell him we mean to always be together. He’d say I can’t marry until I’m twenty-one. You see, they don’t guess how I feel about you, and they suppose you think of me as just someone who works for an old friend of yours.’

‘So I imagined. I’m not asking his permission. We’ll put all that aside until you’ve had your twenty-first and can make your own decisions. Tell them you’re going on a walking holiday with some friend or other. That won’t surprise them, you’ve done it before.’ Then with a satisfied smile, ‘And am I not your friend? We shall go for walks, perhaps in North Wales. How would that be?’

‘You mean stay together, properly stay together?’

‘Didn’t I say I wanted to go to sleep holding you, and wake up loving you all over again?’ he said softly. Then, as if casting the mood off, ‘Now then, Tessa, my sweet, we’ll forget that coffee and go straight to Deremouth. Cod and chips for two, how’s that?’

She nodded. ‘Perfect,’ she assured him. ‘So perfect I’m almost too frightened to think about it.’

‘Such a funny child,’ he said with false mockery, ‘starry-eyed at the thought of cod eaten from newspaper.’

In fact, even though he said it to tease her, he wasn’t far from the truth. The thought of sitting on the sea wall with her newspaper packet of supper was the perfect way to celebrate the joy that was almost too much to bear. A smart restaurant, a meal with wine or even champagne, would have emphasized the difference between her life and Giles’.
Al fresco
cod and chips would be a new experience, probably for both of them.

And as if to put a blessing on where her life had brought her, without conscious thought on her part, she suddenly saw the image of her grandmother and seemed to hear her voice. ‘Rejoice!’ Oh, but she did rejoice. She never knew there could be such joy.

She had always believed that if anything was worth having it was worth fighting for. But the holiday plans fell into place like a perfectly cut jigsaw. Julian Masters immediately agreed to her taking a fortnight’s holiday and neither Naomi nor Richard considered there was anything unusual in her planning to join Natalie Wells, her old school friend, just as they knew she had on previous occasions when she had lived with Gran. The only cloud came in the shape of Deirdre who, for one whole day, reverted to her earlier self, unsmiling, sarcastic, resentful and thoroughly sorry for herself.

Four

Giles met Tessa as she got off the bus in Exeter, stowed her case in the boot of the car and within minutes the city was behind them as they headed north.

‘You’re quiet. Are you having regrets?’ he said, not turning to look at her as he drove.

She gave him a quick glance, but his expression told her nothing.

‘How can I have regrets? It’s just that I felt so mean not telling them the truth. I know I couldn’t but I wish it had been different. If only I were a year older and we could have let everyone know how we feel. But I know you’re right, Giles. It’s just that I hate not being open. Uncle Richard insisted on carrying my case to the Exeter bus stop at the end of the lane. It made me feel wretched.’

‘I wonder he didn’t consider it heavy for someone intending to spend a holiday on the move.’

‘I told them that Natalie was making the arrangements either in a B and B or at a youth hostel.’

She sensed a change in him – or was it her imagination?

‘And where is this fictitious Natalie supposed to be meeting you?’

‘I didn’t make Natalie up. She’s real. We were best friends at school and since then we went away together twice when I was still living with Gran. I rang her up from the phone in the village and told her what I was doing. I had to be sure she didn’t write or telephone while we were away.’

‘You told her you were coming away with
me
?’

‘Yes, of course I did. She’s my best friend; of course I wanted her to know. Anyway, I hate deceit.’

There was very little traffic as he slowed the car to a stop by the grass verge, leaving the engine running.

‘You hate lies and deceit and yet you say you have no regrets. That must be a lie.’

‘It isn’t! How can it be a lie?’ Forgetting all of her intentions to behave in a calm, utterly adult way, she couldn’t prevent the words rushing out. ‘Coming away with you is like a miracle; I’ve thought about you every day and every night since we first met, but even when I let myself imagine something like what is happening to us, I always knew it was a dream, not part of real life – no more likely than going to visit the man on the moon.’ She was frightened; she could feel the beat of her heart and heard the way her voice was rising. Something about him was different. ‘Giles, what is it? What have I said? Is it that you’re only here because you didn’t want to disappoint me? If so, just put me out at the next railway station and I’ll go home. I’ll tell them that Natalie couldn’t get away, I’ll tell them—’

‘I don’t act out of fear of disappointing other people. You’ll realize that when you know me better.’ Yet his words did nothing to reassure her. The first magic of setting off on their journey had gone. ‘You’re such a child—’

‘I’m
not
!’ Then, hearing the dangerous croak in her voice, she shouted in defiance. ‘I’m a woman! Lots of girls of my age are married and have babies. I’m not a child.’

‘Dear, sweet Tessa. Age isn’t just years. That you are twenty and I am twice that isn’t what’s important, it’s what our lives have done to us. I’m
used
,
soiled
if you like; you are pure, honest, beautiful, full of dreams.’

‘Full of nothing, that’s what all that means. Full of dreams just means empty-headed. And I’m not! I know how I feel! I thought you knew, too. I thought it was the same for you. We’re spoiling it all.’

‘No, Tessa, nothing can spoil it. I will tell you something that I swear is God’s truth: no woman has ever touched my heart as you do; no woman has ever filled my mind as you do and God knows why – it’s not your intellect, it’s not your worldliness. I didn’t mean this to happen, didn’t want it to happen. But the thought of your belonging to any other man but me is – is—’

His words drove away all her fears. Leaning towards him she put her arms around his neck. ‘I could never belong to any man but you; it’s as if I’m part of you. If you weren’t here I – I just wouldn’t be a whole person.’

He drew her close and just as her spirit had plunged, now it soared. Then, releasing her with a sudden movement, he slipped the car into gear and they were on their way. It was as if the last ten minutes had been the dividing line between the past they had left behind and the future that awaited them.

At Marlhampton, Julian Masters stood at his study window watching Deirdre staring sullenly at nothing in particular as she sat in her wheelchair. It was a long time since he had seen that expression on her face. He ought to load her into her vehicle and take her out somewhere, perhaps buy her lunch in a country pub. Yes, that’s what he’d do. First he must finish looking at the monthly report from his factory in the Midlands.

He’d guessed it was the thought of a fortnight with no companionship of her age that had put such a sullen, discontented look on Deirdre’s face. But the lack of companionship was only half of it. She felt hurt and rejected, imagining Tessa ‘swanning off’ with her girlfriend, walking the hills, laughing, running, doing all the things which were normal to everyone but to her. She wished Tessa had never come to Fiddlers’ Green; without the months they had shared she would have been settled in her rut of misery not realizing how much fun was still out there for her if only she could get from one place to another. Aimlessly she manoeuvred her chair to face the other direction and started slowly across the lawn. With her back to the drive she didn’t turn when she heard a car. Her first thought was that it must be Giles, quickly followed by
He won’t stay, not when he finds Tessa’s on holiday
. Quick on the heels of that came another thought as she remembered he had said he was going to London and wouldn’t be back in Devon for a few weeks.

‘Deirdre!’

Her cares vanished as she recognized the voice. This time she turned remarkably deftly and with renewed energy started towards the parked van as quickly as she was able to turn the wheels of her chair.

Watching, Julian frowned, his protective instinct aroused at the sight of a stranger approaching his helpless daughter. He hurried from the study and in seconds was heading across the grass towards where he could see an animated conversation was going on.

‘I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,’ he said as he came within earshot, his tone making it clear that he felt no pleasure.

‘No, we haven’t met. You must be Mr Masters. I’m Naomi Pilbeam, Tessa’s aunt – and Deirdre’s friend.’ Naomi held out her hand to him.

‘Ah.’ Hardly a sound at all as his manner relaxed and he took her hand in his. ‘Deirdre has talked of you and of the pleasure she has had in trying to help you in your dairy. I’m glad of the chance to thank you.’

‘I don’t need to be thanked for doing something that gives me pleasure. I was just putting a suggestion to her. You tell him, Deirdre.’

How the girl had changed, he thought, looking at the bright smile she turned on him. Her eyes were shining with excitement, and her face held its smile as if it was the only way it knew how to be.

‘Mrs Pilbeam has come to fetch me, Daddy. She says if I have nothing better to do – as if I might have – I can help her this afternoon. She says she can lift me into the proper seat in the van and put my contraption in the back. She says I can go back with her now and have lunch at the farm before we get down to work this afternoon.’

For the first time he looked at Naomi with interest. Until then all he had seen was a thin, middle-aged woman with a lined and weathered face, wearing clothes that had seen better days. Now he looked deeper and was aware of something he couldn’t put a name to. It had to do with the direct way she looked at him when she spoke, and the soft, deep tone of her voice.

‘She and I work very well together. A busy afternoon will turn into fun, won’t it, Deirdre? I suppose I have a cheek coming to beg for a volunteer to help with the work.’

He raised his hand in a sign to stop her speaking as he answered, ‘If she’d been able to get there, I think she would have volunteered first thing this morning. She’s going to miss Tessa.’

‘Richard – that’s my husband – he and I are going to miss Tessa, too. But a fortnight will soon go. I’m afraid I shall need to bundle her into the van now if you say she can come. I’ve taken my morning delivery to the village, but there’s still lunch to see to.’

‘I’m all ready, Daddy, I don’t need to go indoors.’ It was as if Deirdre feared that if they hesitated the wonderful opportunity would be lost.

‘Then I’ll lift you into the van and put the chair in the back,’ Julian said. ‘Will your husband help you at the other end?’

‘Of course he will, if we need him. But Deirdre and I can manage most things without his help.’

BOOK: The Healing Stream
12.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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