The Red Cliffs (4 page)

When she reached the flat, Lucy was there and had prepared supper, and she was anxious to hear all about Combe Russet.

“
But before you begin to tell me all,
”
she said,
“
there is something here that might gladden your heart.
”
She went into the diminutive kitchen, and returned with a sheaf of red roses wrapped in cellophane and tied with red ribbon, which she had stood in water in a china jug until Alison
’
s return.
“
These came this afternoon,
”
she said, putting them before Alison.

Alison took up the card attached to the sheaf, and read:
“
Yours, regretful and contrite, R.
”
She looked at it for several moments, feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes, and knew that she had missed Ralph all this week, and that his presence at Combe Russet would have turned it into a heaven for her. Yet there was a flaw somewhere. Was it enough just to be contrite?

“
Does that make you happy?
”
asked Lucy.

“
Not as happy as it ought to,
”
said Alison.
“
I suppose o
n
e can
’
t, in a moment, wipe out the memory of something and put everything back to where it used to be,
”

“
He telephoned on Monday. He was all for chasing down to Combe Russet after you. He rang on Friday to know when you would be back. I
don’t think you’ve managed to send him packing, Alison.
”

“
And I don
’
t think I
’
m going to run tamely back to him the moment he whistles for me,
”
said Alison.

“
Good for you. Keep him in suspense. It will do him good. Now tell me all about Combe Russet. Alison.
”

Alison began to tell her, and the telling went on for a long time. The house and garden, the cliffs and sea, all came into it: the workshop where her fingers had itched to start carving again, Clive Rolands, Neil Edgerton and his wish to buy the property, her own reluctance to sell it. Lucy was fired with some of Alison
’
s enthusiasm.

“
I must come with you to see it next time you go,
”
she said.

“
We could manage it at a weekend, by driving all night,
”
said Alison.
“
We
’
ll do it and you can advise me about it.
”

The telephone bell interrupted them. Lucy nodded at Alison.

“
It
’
s sure to be for you. Ralph, no doubt.
”
Ralph
’
s voice was low and warm and affectionate, so dearly familiar that Alison felt herself responding to it.

“
Alison,
”
he said,
“
it
’
s good to hear you again. It was such a long week without you. Was it
a long week for you, too?
”

“
I
’
ve had a wonderful week,
”
she said brightly.
“
I went down to Tom
’
s farm, as you know, and it turned out to be a heavenly place. I loved it, and didn
’
t want to come back.
”

“
You didn
’
t miss me, then, as I missed you?
”
Alison closed her eyes for a moment, remembering how she had missed him, feeling a moment of intense longing for him.

“
I was so busy,
”
she said, determined that he should know nothing of that longing.

“
Will you have dinner with me tomorrow, Alison?
”

“
I don
’
t think I can, Ralph—I
’
m sorry.
”

“
The next day, then?
”

“
I
’
m afraid not.
”

“
Nor Wednesday, nor Thursday, nor Friday, I suppose. Then tell me, Alison, when can I see you?
”

“
Ralph, would there be any point in it? I thought we weren
’
t going to see each other again.
’

“
That was your idea, not mine. I knew I should want to go on seeing you. Have dinner with me one evening this week, Alison.
”
The persuasion in his voice weakened her resolve.

“
I don
’
t know yet,
”
she said,
“
how much work I will find waiting for me in the office. I may have to work late. I
’
ll give you a ring.
”

“
But will you, I wonder? I
’
d better ring you again, Alison. How tell me about this heavenly place of Tom
’
s.
”

“
I can
’
t just now. Lucy and I are having supper.
”

“
Then you can tell me when we meet for dinner,
”
said Ralph.

And such were his powers of persistence and
persuasion that on Thursday, in spite of Alison’s better
judgement, they did meet for dinner. She had summoned her courage and resolution to withstand any further attack from him, and strength to resist his pleading, but she needed none of them. For he neither attacked nor pleaded. It was as if the fiasco of their holiday had never happened. He was the charming, light-hearted companion he had been all the summer, and Alison enjoyed herself immensely. When he saw her home and went into the
flat
for a drink with herself and Lucy, Lucy had not yet come home, and for a moment Alison feared that the privacy there might lead to another painful scene; but Ralph remained easy and pleasant, and made no attempt to kiss her before leaving, but hoped only that they would meet again soon. He had, in fact, realised what an appalling mistake he had made concerning Alison, and realised, too, that she meant far more to him than he had been willing to admit. He had put himself right back to the beginning: worse than that, he had given himself a handicap. He must start all over again and woo her, carefully, tactfully, sensitively.

Alison put on the kettle for a cup of tea, knowing that Lucy, too, would like one when she came in. Her mood was benign, the pleasantness of the
evening still about her like an aura. She had told Ralph about Combe Russet, but she had not told him that she and Lucy were planning to go there; and this was a reservation she would not have dreamed of making before her holiday
.
She had told him that she intended to sell the house, but she did not mention her daily growing wish to keep it. Her trust in him had taken a serious blow, and he would have to work hard, perhaps much harder than he thought, to restore it. Much as she had missed him at Combe Russet, had longed to have him with her, she now admitted the possibility that she might want to keep him away from it, might want to preserve inviolate the sanctuary she had found for herself.

CHAPTER THREE

Alison and Lucy drove all through the night. They had hurried home from their respective offices as early as possible on Friday evening, and after dinner had slept for three hours before beginning their journey. The night was windy and overcast as they left London, and the weather worsened rapidly. Rain began to beat down around midnight, and the wind freshened almost to gale force, buffeting the small car, so that the two young women felt they were embarked on an adventure that was not without excitement and peril. They drove alternately for a period of two hours, and they lost their way several times, turning back to find the right road, stopping to peer at signposts through the wind
-
whipped rain. Their idea had been that the one not driving should try to sleep, but each felt that she should keep awake to give the other moral support, with the result that neither had more than a fitful doze from time to time.

They kept themselves going with sandwiches and coffee from flasks, and towards morning the rain ceased and the wind died down a little. As it was now mid-October and holiday traffic had come to an end, they had had the roads almost to themselves, only occasionally dipping their lights as another car approached them through the darkness and the rain. As daylight increased and they left the road for the winding lanes, they could see evidence of the wild night in the water that coursed along the sides, in the brambles beaten down to lie across the roadway, in the soaked and fallen leaves everywhere.

“
Where are you taking me?
”
asked Lucy, as the car turned into yet narrower lanes, skidding on the mud and the fallen leaves.
“
To the end of the

“
Nearly there,
”
said Alison, and a few minutes later turned at the sign to Combe Russet House, and rounded the bend in the long drive to stop before
her own house. The garden was drenched, there was a continual drip, drip; drip from the trees, and the surrounding countryside was wrapped in mist. In the greyness of the morning, even the house took on a shade of grey; and Alison hurried Lucy Inside at once. They took with them their suitcases and provisions, and were soon seated over a cup of hot tea and plates of egg and bacon.

“
Gosh, I
’
m tired,
”
said Lucy.
“
I believe I
’
ll have to have a nap before we explore.
”

They both went to rest for an hour, and they both overslept, but they woke refreshed to find that the sun had broken through to dispel the mist, and that the world was sparkling around them after the downpour of the night. Lucy was conducted on a tour of the house and garden, and taken to stand where she could admire the magnificent view of cliffs and sea.
“
And later on,
”
said Alison,
“
I
’
ll drive you round and show you the little town, and the beautiful cliff road, and some of the countryside.
”
They went back into the house, switched on the electric fire in the sitting room, made coffee for themselves and settled down to talk.

“
Well, what do you think of it?
”
asked Alison.
“
It
’
s a marvellous place, of course.
”

“
Isn
’
t it? I knew you would think so. And Evelyn
’
s decorations are so beautiful.
”

“
But you aren
’
t really thinking it
’
s possible to keep it?
”

“
I
’
ve dreamed about it, I have to admit.
”

“
How could you afford it? And it
’
s miles from anywhere. You couldn
’
t possibly live alone here.
”

“
Then you
’
d better come too.
”

Lucy looked at her and shook her head.

“
Oh no,
”
she said.
“
Oh no. I know my
métier
, Alison, and it isn
’
t here in the backwoods. I like London and people and rush and things happening all the time. We would settle down here into being two old maids.
”
She smiled warmly and suddenly at Alison.
“
Much as I love you, darling, I wouldn
’
t come here to live with you. And I think you
’
d be crazy to live here anyway.
”

“
Yes, I suppose
I
would,
”
sighed Alison.

“
And think how well off you would be if you sold it. Restored and furnished as it is, you could get a packet for it.
”

“
But I
’
d rather have the house,
”
said Alison.

“
Well, why not let it furnished? A nice, steady income and it
’
s still yours when you want it, if you do.
”

“
That
’
s probably what it would come to. But I keep thinking how nice it would be to come down to from London; I keep longing to get into that workshop and start carving again...
”

“
You can carve in London; and how often could you come all this way? Be sensible, Alison.
”

“
I
’
m always sensible. It would be a change to do something not sensible for once.
”

After their lunch, they left the cottage to go for their drive; and, for the first time, Alison realised that the car was not where she had left it. In the early morning, anxious to get into the house from the saturated outside, she had left it standing on the driveway, and now it was on the long, matted grass before the garage. She guessed immediately what had happened. Neil Edgerton had wanted to pass, had been too impatient to wait for her to come and move her car, and had released the brake and pushed it back off the road. She must remember not to leave it so that it blocked the way: she must not give him any legitimate excuse to grumble.

She started the engine of her car, but it would not move; and the more she tried, the more the wheels kept on spinning on the soaking wet grass. Lucy got out to push from behind, and reported that the wheels were sinking deeper into mud at each fresh effort. Alison got out to inspect and realised that something more must be done.

“
We must put something under the wheels,
”
she said.

“
Who could have moved the car anyway?
”
asked Lucy.

“
Neil Edge
r
ton, I suppose, wanting to pass. He might have had the sense to
s
ee that this was a bad
place to leave it.”

“
It ought to b
e paved h
ere,
”
said Lucy,
“
or have stones put down o
n
gra
v
el. I
’
m surprised that Tom didn
’
t do that.
”

Alison was also surpr
ised
that Tom had put up with this inadeq
uate a
pproach to his garage, but no doubt he wou
ld have g
ot round to it. There must have been plenty of o
ther t
hings he had to do.

“
I cou
l
d get some b
o
ards fr
om
the workshop; and we could use s
ome of that
leather to put under the wheels. Lucy, you get some
l
eather—no, you can
’
t pull it with your hands, get the shears; and I
’
ll get some boards.
”

They were beginning their work on freeing the car when a strange voice spoke to them.

“
Would you like some help with that?
”
it said,, and they both turned to see a man watching them, a man straddled across his bicycle with a foot down on the ground to steady himself. He was dressed in corduroy trousers and a very thick, bulky sweater. His uncovered, wind-rumpled hair was black, and he had thick dark eyebrows over dark eyes that seemed to be laughing. He was good-looking in a piratical fashion, and his glance was more than forthright, almost bold. He swung his leg over the saddle of his bicycle and wheeled it to the fence, propping it there and turning to the job in hand.

The girls relinquished the boards and the heather and watched him tuck them under the back wheels of the car.

“
Now if one of you will get in and start her,
”
he said,
“
I
’
ll give her a shove and we
’
ll soon have her out of this.
”

In a few minutes, the car stood once more on the drive, and Alison turned to thank their helper.

“
It was very kind of you,
”
she said, smiling.

“
Which one of you is Alison?
”
he asked.

They looked surprised.

“
I am,
”
Alison answered.

“
Of course. I should have known. I can see the resemblance now.
”

“
Did you know my brother?
”
asked Alison.

“
Yes, he was a great friend; and he often talked to me of you. When he
’
d been up to London to see you; or when he was planning to go.
”

“
He sometimes talked of a man called Roger,
”
said Alison.

“
That
’
s me, very much at your service. Roger Falcon.
”

“
We
’
re glad to meet you. This is my friend, Lucy Conway.
”

Roger Falcon shook hands with them both, his smile exposing gleaming white teeth.

“
I was away when you came down before,
”
he told Alison,
“
and heard about it afterwards. How long are you staying this time?
”

“
We go back tomorrow, unfortunately.
”

“
My bad luck,
”
he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“
We have to get our bread and butter,
”
said Lucy.

“
But I
’
d like to have a talk with you about Tom,
”
said Alison.
“
Perhaps another time, when I am here.
”

“
I could call in later today,
”
he said.
“
I have a date at eight, but I could come before then.
”

“
Yes, do. We
’
d ask you for a drink, but we have nothing to drink. You could come to tea.
”

“
Tea isn
’
t much in my line,
”
he laughed.
“
I
’
ll come for a drink, and bring a bottle of sherry myself.
”
He went to the bicycle and wheeled it on to the drive.
“
Au revoir,
”
he said.
“
Be seeing you.
”

Lucy and Alison glanced at each other enquiringly.

“
A bold one that,
”
said Lucy.

“
A kind of raffish charm,
”
added Alison.

“
But I liked him.
”

“
Yes, so did I—I think.
”

Alison st
arted the car, rounded the bend, and drove to where the drive joined the very narrow la
ne
, to encounter the grey car turning in from the lar e. Both cars
s
topped. Both drivers looked behind them for a convenient passing place. Neil Edgerton
did not wait for Alison to take the initiative. He reversed expertly, speedily until there was room for her to pass, and then beckoned her on. She passed cautiously, slowly, making a small salute of thanks as she did so. He nodded briefly in acknowledgement, and drove on. Lucy, unencumbered by the need to drive, had had time to study him.

“
So that
’
s Neil Edgerton,
”
she said.

“
Yes.
”

“
Quite a man,
”
commented Lucy.

“
Too tough for my liking,
”
said Alison.
“
And as hard as nails.
”

“
I like them tough,
”
said Lucy, and realising that the subject of Neil Edgerton was not a welcome one, she dropped it, simply commenting:
“
Did I say we should settle down here to become two old maids? I revise that opinion
—
the place seems to be littered with arresting males.
”