For half an hour they lay there, naked except for a thin eiderdown of dried grass, until Jinty raised herself on one elbow: “What was that you said about supper?”
Kit heard the question only as some distant echo. He turned to meet her eyes, and to Jinty’s surprise, it seemed as though he had been expecting to see someone quite different.
“Nice smell.”
“Who me?”
“Yes. And the supper.”
“You all right with Dover sole?”
“Oh, very classy. Good job I brought white.” They clinked glasses and drank.
She eased herself in front of him while he stirred the sauce in the small pan on the stove, so that he had to embrace her as he cooked.
“That’s nice.” He pecked the back of her head. “Hair’s growing. Soon be back to its former glory.”
“Wish I could say the same for my arm.”
“You’ll mend. Be patient.”
She sipped her wine and they stood silently for a few minutes.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked.
“Oh, the ladies are out and I thought I’d like to return the compliment.”
“Lucky me.”
They feasted on the fish as though it were the food of the gods, sitting as close to each other as possible at the kitchen table.
“Why does wine always taste better when I drink it with you?” she asked.
“Because I’m fascinating company.”
“Oh, I see.” She grinned and took another sip.
“Anyway, it should taste good tonight.”
“Why?”
“I’ve got some news.”
“I hope it’s good news. I’ve had enough of the other sort for a while.” She reached out and stroked his eyebrow. He reached up his hand to take hers and brushed it against his cheek, before kissing it lightly and lowering it to the table.
“I’ve had a firm offer on this place.”
She stared at him but did not speak.
“A good one. One and a quarter million.”
“Wow!” she whispered, all the while looking at him expectantly for some further piece of information that would make her feel better. He was here with her now, attentive and loving, so why did she feel uneasy?
“Will you accept it?” she asked.
“Stupid not to.”
“So what happens now?”
“Presumably this guy will want a look round – he’s bought it unseen but I suppose he’ll put in an appearance once I accept his offer.”
“Who is he?”
“Works abroad a lot. Firm of financial consultants or something.”
At the precise moment he said the name, Jinty felt the same word spilling from her own mouth. She had no idea why she knew, and at the sound of it she felt a sudden cold rush of fear.
“Bickerstaffe.”
Kit looked at her incredulously. “How did you know?”
“You can’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t sell it to him.”
“Why not? How did you know? I don’t understand.” He looked genuinely bewildered.
Jinty turned away and spoke softly, almost to herself. “Why does he want it?”
“Because he wants to own a nature reserve, and presumably he wants to own this one.”
Jinty’s eyes flashed as she turned back to face him. “He doesn’t want a nature reserve. He’s never been interested in anything that moves unless it wears a skirt.”
Kit was stunned. He had never seen this side of her before. Her eyes burned into him with a mixture of anger and confusion.
“Hang on a minute . . .”
“You can’t sell this place to him –” Tears were flowing and she wiped them away angrily with her hand.
“But I don’t understand.”
Jinty took a deep breath and picked up her glass, then put it back on the table without tasting its contents.
“Jamie Bickerstaffe.” For a split second she wondered if it might not be her Bickerstaffe but somebody else’s. “It is Jamie, isn’t it?” Kit nodded, and Jinty felt herself tumble into a pool of despair. “There’s no way he wants this estate because of plants and animals. He’s a money-man. Why would he suddenly become interested in a piece of countryside unless it was for financial reasons?”
“But how do you know him?”
Jinty was reluctant to tell him, but she knew she must if Kit were to understand fully. “Because I used to go out with him. Until he decided he didn’t want me any more.”
In a sudden flash of comprehension Kit understood the reasons for Jinty’s reaction. “Oh, I see.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I think I do. You don’t want me to sell this place to an old flame.”
Jinty could not believe his coldness. “No. It’s not just that –”
“Because he dumped you, you want me to turn him down?”
Her eyes burned. “Yes, I do.”
“But I can’t – I have to sell this place and he’s happy to keep the reserve going, which is what I want.”
“Oh, bugger the reserve. I don’t care about the sodding reserve. I just don’t want Jamie Bickerstaffe muscling in round here.”
Kit was hurt. “But what about you and me? Isn’t that more important than him?”
“You don’t understand, do you?”
“To tell you the truth, no, I don’t.”
“So will you sell to him?”
“Yes. If he wants to buy and everything else works out.”
“What sort of everything?”
“Searches and that sort of thing.”
“Nothing else will stop you?”
“No.” Kit tried hard to sound reasonable, but in the face of such irrational behaviour from Jinty, how could he hope to make her understand?
“I see.” She sounded almost broken. She sat at the table, quite still for a few moments, then got up. “I’d better go.”
Kit pushed back his chair and made to get up.
“No. Please.” She backed away. “I thought you might understand.”
He looked hard at her, trying to divine her true feelings. “And I thought you cared about what I cared about.”
She shook her head. Then she turned and slowly closed the door behind her, and Kit found himself standing alone in a kitchen that smelt of overcooked fish.
The walk home to Baddesley Court seemed interminable. The cool breeze sawed at Jinty’s bones and she shivered beneath the thick sweater. She had allowed herself to believe that Kit Lavery was different. In the short time she had known him she had convinced herself that he was special, yet he had turned out to be just like the rest. As soon as she had asked him to do something for her he had backed away.
When the chips were down, his own future and his own convenience were what mattered to him. Why had he never asked her what she thought? Why had she even assumed it would cross his mind? At least Jamie Bickerstaffe was up front about everything.
She began to shiver. Stupid! Why had she not asked him to drive her home? Or to call a cab? Instead she had walked out on him in her anger, and now found herself chilled to the marrow in the cold evening air. She turned up a narrow path to cross the side of a wheatfield, anxious to shorten the journey as much as possible.
Kit had left the kitchen hard on her heels, but she had turned left, not right, outside the house. If she had kept to the lane she would have seen the bright yellow Fiat Punto coming in search of her. As it was, the driver missed her by only a few seconds, and returned home at midnight in deep despair.
At the same time, Jinty climbed the stairs of Baddesley Court, her teeth chattering. She removed her clothes and clambered clumsily into bed. It was half an hour before she stopped shaking, and a further half-hour before she fell asleep.
Chapter 25: Swords and Spears
(Plantago lanceolata)
Life was a bugger, that was all there was to it. He tossed a bucket of scraps to the pig and didn’t
even wait for conversation. It was three days since the row with Jinty. Three days since he had spoken to her. Time and again he felt he should go round and explain, but each time he convinced himself that there was little point. He wanted to sell to Bickerstaffe; she didn’t want him to. She cared nothing for the reserve, and until now he had not known just how much he cared for it himself. There was no room for manoeuvre.
He tried to think of other things, but what else was there to think about? Everything seemed to revolve around their relationship, or be tied up with it. Whichever way he moved, whatever he tried to achieve, he always came back to Jinty. He had thought that she was the reason he was doing all this, but she seemed unwilling or unable to understand that.
And Bickerstaffe: had she really finished with him, or was she still seeing him? Jealousy surfaced.
Elizabeth watched him going about the place with a distracted air but, as always, kept herself to herself until he buttonholed her outside the barn.
“No Jess?”
“No.” Elizabeth was unsure where the conversation was leading. “I think she must have decided to stay longer than she first thought. She should be back by the weekend, though.”
“Does she often go away?”
“No. I don’t think it’s happened before. I didn’t think you’d mind. She works very hard.”
Kit was aware that Elizabeth was leaping to Jess’s defence. “I wasn’t complaining. Just wondering.”
There was an uneasy silence. Kit broke it. “Can I ask you something?”
Elizabeth looked apprehensive. “Of course.”
“You know Jess was a hunt saboteur?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“Does she still . . . do it?”
Elizabeth regarded him curiously. “No. Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered.”
“She stopped when she came here. Your father convinced her that her energies would be better spent doing this sort of work rather than making a nuisance of herself.”
Kit looked thoughtful. “And she wouldn’t go back to it?”
Elizabeth’s reply was emphatic. “Certainly not.” She stared at him, unsure of his meaning. Then he asked another question.
“Do you know a man called Bickerstaffe?”
Elizabeth thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“He’s interested in buying the estate. Well, more than interested. He’s made an offer.”
“I see.” Her face remained impassive.
“But I want to make sure he’ll keep the reserve going.”
She regarded him thoughtfully, then said, “There’s an easy way to do that.”
Kit raised his eyebrows.
“Explain to him about the SSSI. Tell him it’s likely that English Nature will declare West Yarmouth a Site of Special Scientific Interest.”
“The ultimate test.”
“Yes. A bit of a test for you, too, isn’t it?”
Kit looked directly at her. “What do you mean?”
“To find out whether you really do want the reserve to continue or whether you just want to take the money and hope for the best.”
He was surprised at her bluntness. He made to answer, but Elizabeth spoke first. “I know what it’s like. The battle between money and conscience. I watched your father struggle with it. His conscience won. But only just.”
“But Dad was passionate about this place.”
“Oh, there was an offer a few years ago when your father hit a bad patch. We had gales and the place was in a bit of a state. The red squirrels didn’t seem to be increasing, the weather was foul. He wavered. Almost sold up.”
“What happened?”
“He got through it. Found his feet. Somehow found enough motivation to keep going.”
“Simple as that?” Kit was disappointed at the straightforwardness of her reply.
Elizabeth sounded irritated. “Not simple at all. Took a lot of soul-searching.”
“But Dad won through in the end. Just like he always did.”
“You do him an injustice, you know.”
“Oh, no. I know how good he was.”
“That’s not what I mean. His life wasn’t as straightforward as you think.”
Kit leaned on the wall of the barn and folded his arms. “In what way?”
Elizabeth hesitated. Kit wondered if she had been a party to his father’s illness. Had he confided in her? Surely Dr Hastings would not have told her.
Elizabeth’s reply startled him. “You mustn’t hold yourself in such low regard compared with your father.”
“Why?”
“Because he was not without his weaknesses.”
Kit stared at her, mystified by her unexpected candour.
“Your father was a good man – a great man – but he was a man and, like any other man, he wasn’t perfect.”
“I don’t think I . . .”
“I’m not saying this for any reason other than to make you understand that your father was human, and that you are more like him than you may realise. I know you found it hard to follow in his footsteps and thought you could never be as good as he was, but you are probably being too hard on yourself.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because if I don’t tell you you may do the wrong things for the wrong reasons. You should be in full possession of the facts before you act on anything. It’s only fair.”
Kit pressed back against the wall of the barn to steady himself for the expected onslaught.
“Your father was a committed conservationist with his own way of doing things. He loved this place and desperately believed in his work here. He wanted nothing to get in the way of it. But he was also . . . an ordinary man. Look . . . perhaps this is the wrong time.”
“No, please, carry on.”
“Shall we go inside?”
“No. It’s fine.” He felt safer outdoors. More able to cope with what might be coming if he had air and space. He could not imagine what she was trying to say.
“I don’t want you to think that I am saying this for any selfish motive. I simply want to help you realise your own worth.” She leaned against the wall a few feet away from him and looked out over the valley in the same direction as his gaze.
“Your father and I were lovers.”
The words echoed out across the landscape as though amplified by some unseen microphone. Kit neither moved nor spoke.
“Your mother was dead, of course, but my husband was still alive.”
“But I thought . . .”
“Miss Punch. Yes. Classic spinster. Man-hater.” She smiled a painful smile. “I reverted to my maiden name – didn’t really want to carry my husband’s name for longer than I had to. A difficult man. Not very good at . . . well, relationships.”
Kit could not believe what he was hearing.
“Your father and I just had a sort of . . . rapport, that was all. Unspoken, mostly.”
Kit tried to disguise his surprise. “Did Jess know?”
“I don’t think so. By the time she came along it had all but petered out – the physical side, that is. We were never overly demonstrative anyway. She may have thought there was something between us, but she never said anything and we were always very careful.”
“And my father and Jess?”
“She worshipped the ground he walked on.”
“And he?”
“Loved her like a daughter. I used to watch him looking at her sometimes. I’d never seen such love in a man’s eyes – protective love.”
She smiled ruefully to herself. “I used to find it difficult. Easy to feel left out. Stupid old woman.”
“Jealous?”
“Deeply.”
“But you didn’t tell him?”
“No,” Elizabeth said softly.
“Why not?” he asked gently.
“No right to.”
Kit turned to look at her and saw that her eyes were filled with tears. “I wanted his attention to be concentr
ated here, not on someone who would distract him.”
“I see.”
“But towards the end of his life I think I could see into him more clearly. There was something more relaxed about his manner. We seemed, if anything, to be coming closer together. We’d have conversations over supper – when he’d had a few glasses of wine. He asked if I’d take care of things if anything happened to him. I thought at the time that it was odd. He’d never been morose before. And then he fell down the gully and that was it. All over,” Elizabeth said softly. “So just remember, you don’t have a monopoly on doing things for the wrong reasons. We all mess up from time to time. I’d just like you to get it right, that’s all.”
She pushed herself up from the wall, picked up the empty swill bucket and walked briskly off towards the barn.
Jinty watched with a trained eye as Sally trotted Seltzer round the manège at Baddesley Court. “Seems all right now.”
“Well, at least he’s putting his weight on it. It was a bit tender yesterday. Funny old boy.” She patted his flank, and Jinty watched as she changed direction and trotted the horse round the other way. Her mind began to wander. She looked out across the rolling fields, fresh green in their spring livery, beyond the budding oaks in which rooks cawed, in the direction of West Yarmouth and the sea.
She could not remember feeling so low since her parents had died. She was Irish, had a way of rising above the worst of her troubles, but the combination of Charlotte’s grief at the loss of the ‘boys’, Roly’s quietness in the face of his wife’s misery, and the loss of someone she had thought might change her life, left her with a hollowness she found hard to bear.
Sally reined in Seltzer and jumped down by her side. “You OK?”
Jinty came back to earth with a bump. “Yes. Fine.” She managed a distracted smile.
“You’ll get over him, you know.”
“No.”
“What?” Sally grinned, disbelievingly.
“I won’t get over him. I don’t want to get over him.”
Animal Instincts Page 17
