by Jenny Lane
Cassie gave her a searching glance. ‘If you say so, Tam, I suppose I’ll have to believe you, but there’s a certain look about you that makes me think you’re in love, and if it isn’t Ian Gilbert or your artist friend Tom Courtney, then who on earth is it?’
But Tamara refused to budge one inch, and in the end Cassie bade her good night and went, leaving her sister to lay staring up at the ceiling. Cassie would be returning to London shortly with Oliver and when they left, Tamara would go with them. She doubted if she would ever come to this part of Cornwall again. Richard started his new job at the hospital on Monday so she probably wouldn’t even see him before she went.
A tear trickled down her cheek and she rubbed it away viciously.
*
Tamara sniffed the huge bunch of roses Tom had brought her.
‘Tamara, however can I begin to thank you?’
‘I think the boot’s on the other foot. It should be me thanking you... How did the fire start, Tom?’
‘We think it must have been a cigarette end, but we’re not a hundred per cent sure and never will be now... There’s a No Smoking sign in the Studio and I vaguely remember someone coming in with a lighted cigarette. It’s easy enough to think you’ve stubbed it out. We closed up shortly afterward. Maybe a draught from the window, or a piece of paper falling on it, set the whole thing off. There was a stack of canvases on the floor too. Anyway, who can say? It must have smouldered for a good long time. Mother and I had only gone to Poltock’s farm to pick up some vegetables... You must have practically passed us on the road. I’d asked Anne to tidy up the Studio and she thinks the draught when she opened the door probably made things worse. Before she had a chance to get out, the door slammed shut and the wretched lock jammed, as it did once before. Our immediate neighbours were out and the old lady in the end cottage is as deaf as a post and didn’t hear Anne shouting.’
‘Did you – did you lose a lot?’
He took her hand. ‘Nothing in comparison to what I might have lost; namely, Anne... Tamara, I owe so much to you. You risked your own life... I can’t get over that.’
‘Well, I was stupid enough to fall off that wretched stool – did you save those three canvases in the end?’
‘Yes, and the majority of the others besides...’
‘And so you’ll still be able to hold the exhibition?’
‘You bet, and if you’re fit enough you can come to the preview as arranged. We’re going to fill up the few empty gaps with some of Mel’s craftwork.’
‘Oh, Tom – thank God you came back when you did, or it could have been the cottage too.’
‘Yes, we have a lot to thank God for, Tamara... Now do you think you can withstand another shock – a nice one this time?’
‘I’ll try.’ She wondered what he was about to tell her.
‘I’ve finally mustered up sufficient courage to ask Melissa to marry, me, and she’s agreed... You see, it was Anne who really brought us together again after the beach barbecue. I just couldn’t have borne it if Mel had turned me down, which was why I never got around to proposing before – I was convinced she would refuse, and then I nearly lost her to Richard because she thought I didn’t want to marry again.’ His face was wreathed in smiles.
Tamara found it hard to digest this news. ‘Tom, I’m so very glad for you,’ she managed at last. There was something she had to know and she phrased her question carefully. ‘So Melissa wasn’t in love with Richard after all?’
‘No, nor he with her, I’m sure, but he might have married her all the same, because ever since the accident he’s seemed to feel a kind of responsibility towards her. In some strange way he holds himself partly to blame for what happened, because the boat was bought with his money... So, you see, everything seems to be working out hunky-dory from my point of view – and what about you, Tam? I suppose you’ll be going back to London when you’re feeling better?’
She nodded and explained what had been happening.
‘How about staying at the cottage for a few days to recuperate before you go? Anne would love to have you and so should I.’
‘Thanks, Tom, but I really ought to be going home. I’ve got rather a lot to do before the new term starts.’
He squeezed her arm. ‘I’m sorry, Tam. I’m afraid this holiday hasn’t proved as happy as it might have done for you, has it? Anyway, you can at least come and have coffee with us after you’ve seen the exhibition.’
It was strange how things had worked out, Tamara thought after Tom had departed. She wondered if Richard knew about Melissa and Tom’s engagement yet and, if so, how he had reacted. Anyway, he was bound to find himself someone else before many moons had passed. Tamara sighed. It seemed as if she would have to resign herself to being a spinster after all. Perhaps she would join her brother and his family in Canada, and make a new life for herself out there. That was if there were any vacancies for teachers in Canada.
*
On Sunday afternoon, Richard took Tamara to a tiny cove. It was quiet and peaceful and she felt inexplicably sad. It had been arranged that she and Cassie would return to London on Tuesday after seeing Tom’s exhibition. Oliver would follow on a few days later. Everyone had been so kind to her, and she felt sure she didn’t deserve it after all the deceit.
She sat soaking up the sun, feeling the warmth on her back and watching Richard as he threw pebbles into the sea. Just for a moment she allowed herself to dream about what it might have been like if things had been different between them. For now that Melissa and Tom were to be married and there was no longer a barrier, she realised that Richard could never have thought of her other than Cassie’s rather plain older sister. He had flirted with her and raised her hopes, and would no doubt be astounded if he ever discovered just how she felt about him, for it was obvious that for his part he had never intended to be serious. He suddenly looked at her now and smiled, the dimple appearing in his chin.
‘Hey, why so sombre? Do you feel like a walk... There’s a proposition I’d like to put to you – something I wonder if you’ll do for me.’
Catching her hand, he pulled her up. For a few moments they walked in silence along the edge of the waves. The lacy foam washed over her bare feet; the gulls wheeled overhead, calling to one another.
‘There was something you wanted to ask me,’ she reminded him at length, intrigued.
He looked at her and smiled and her love for him surged inside her. ‘Well, I know you’re dying to get back to London, Tamara, but I wondered if you would perhaps consider staying on here a bit longer – I mean you quite like Tregarth, don’t you?’
She was puzzled. ‘Why, yes, you know I do... It’s just that I have to get back for the new term. What is it you would like me to do, Richard?’
‘Marry me, Tamara,’ he said so quietly that at first she did not think she could have heard aright. ‘I’ve fallen in love with you, Tamara Simpson. Can I dare hope you care just a little for me in return? I mean, I’m not much of a catch, but I can offer you security, and I promise you can have as much independence as you like and...’
‘Oh, Richard, stop! Stop! I love you too – more than words can say and that’s all I want from you. I didn’t dare hope because I thought you didn’t even like me very much.’
His blue-grey eyes danced. ‘So you will marry me, then?’
‘Oh, yes – a million times yes.’
‘Good, I’m glad I’ve got that settled. I’ll be able to do my job tomorrow much better in that knowledge,’ he teased. ‘Come here, my darling.’ He caught her in his arms and kissed her and they stood on the edge of the waves, the water lapping about their feet, lost to the rhapsody of love.
PROMISES OF SPRING
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
>
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
Sophie Burnett slowed to a crawl, as a sudden flurry of snow made driving even more hazardous. She must have been mad to have attempted the journey to Penbridge that day, but she’d got no intention of letting Aunt Rose down.
A couple of days ago there had been a brief message left on the answer-phone from a neighbour, informing the Burnetts that the elderly lady had sprained her ankle badly. After a brief family confab, Sophie had volunteered to stay with Aunt Rose in Kent for a week or so.
‘Under any other circumstances, I’d have been more than happy to go myself,’ Sophie’s mother had said. ‘But June and Colin have been good friends for such a long time, so your father and I can’t possibly miss their ruby wedding party this weekend. Rose insisted she’s coping well when I spoke to her on the phone yesterday, but you know how fiercely independent she is. Reading between the lines, I think she’s putting on a brave face and could do with some help.’
Sophie’s brother, Tim, had already gone skiing with his girlfriend, so there really was no-one else.
Sophie peered ahead. Rose Cottage had got to be around here somewhere, but all she could make out, stretching into the distance, was a sea of white with no sign of habitation.
After a few minutes, the snow eased, and Sophie inched her way gingerly forward, in what she hoped was the right direction. Rose Cottage had always been a bit tricky to find. Even in the best of weather it had been easy to miss the turning and, previously, Sophie had been driven there by her father. To her relief, she suddenly saw a couple of ragstone cottages set back from the road and pulled in as near as she could.
A sharp rap on the window nearly made her jump out of her skin. A man peered at her with a pair of intense brown eyes, mouthing something. She wound down the window a crack, hoping he wasn’t about to attack her.
‘At last! Rose sent me to see if there was any sign of you. We thought you’d have been here long ago.’
‘In case it’s escaped your notice, it’s been snowing heavily,’ she rejoined, unable to make out much about the man, apart from the fact that he was quite large, probably in his thirties, and swathed in a thick jacket with a hood.
‘Well, you’re here now — you’ll have to park round the back.’ He directed her, waving his arms about in the process.
It was slow going and Sophie was greatly relieved when she’d finally reached the spot he’d indicated. By the time she’d locked the car and retrieved some of her luggage from the boot, the man had reappeared.
‘I’m Rose’s neighbour, from Rowan-bank,’ he told her tersely, taking the suitcase from her, and leaving her to follow as best she could with the bags. ‘She was expecting to spend the New Year with you and your family. By the time I’d returned from visiting friends, she was in a bit of a state. She’d gone out to find her cat, and slipped and sprained her ankle badly. It’s a good job it wasn’t any worse. Goodness knows how she’d managed to get back indoors. Anyway, I took her to A & E just to be on the safe side.’
‘Well, you’re obviously a good neighbour,’ Sophie told him, thinking it was typical of Daphne to have backed out of having her aunt to stay over the New Year. Sophie knew that Rose had been greatly looking forward to visiting her late husband’s niece and she hadn’t told the Burnetts she’d been on her own over the holiday after all.
‘It’s just as well I came back when I did. Your aunt’s been housebound ever since,’ the neighbour told Sophie, a note of reproach in his voice.
Sophie didn’t bother to correct him. After all, it was an easy enough mistake to make to assume that she was Rose’s niece. She was freezing cold and her toes and fingers were numb. No, explanations could wait until later.
***
Aunt Rose’s face lit up when Sophie came into the kitchen, reassuring her that she’d made the right decision in coming here. Sophie kissed the elderly lady’s cheek and commiserated over the sprained ankle, all the time aware of the man leaning against the Welsh dresser observing her. She registered that he was largish with broad shoulders. He had pushed the hood of his anorak back to reveal thick fair hair flopping forward over his brow and she could see that he had a firm, angular jawline and rugged good looks.
‘I didn’t think you’d manage to get here in all this bad weather. What a day!’ Aunt Rose said.
‘I did try to phone you, but I’m afraid I couldn’t get a signal,’ Sophie told her.
‘Well, never mind. I’m so pleased to see you. Would you like to freshen up? Keir’s made us some soup, although I’m afraid I’ve had mine already. I’ve put you in the back bedroom. Fortunately, Keir’s lent me his cleaning lady, so the room’s ready and the bed’s aired. She couldn’t come in today, of course.’
‘I’ll bring your case,’ Keir said, and Sophie followed him back into the tiny hall and up the narrow stairs.
‘How on earth is Aunt Rose managing to get up here?’
‘She isn’t. We’ve made up a bed for her on the bed-settee in the dining room for the time being, and fortunately she’s got the downstairs cloakroom, so she can manage perfectly well.’ He paused and pushed open a door. ‘Anyway, here you are. It’s a pleasant room.’
‘Thanks for everything,’ she said, meeting a pair of cool, brown eyes. ‘It’s good to know someone’s been keeping an eye on Aunt Rose.’
‘Yes, well, what are neighbours for?’ he said briefly. ‘She’s a lovely lady and it’s a great pity her family don’t appreciate her more.’
Sophie felt that the criticism was somehow directed at her and decided to put him straight.
‘Actually, Aunt Rose doesn’t have any close family living, apart from her husband’s niece, Daphne, and a couple of elderly cousins in Shropshire.’
Keir frowned. ‘But I thought — so you’re not related to Daphne?’
She shook her head. ‘Most definitely not! I’m Sophie — Sophie Burnett. Aunt Rose isn’t really my aunt at all. She was my father’s cousin’s sister-in-law. Uncle Hugh lived at Rowanbank.’
She was gratified to see that Keir looked slightly awkward.
‘Right — well, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding — must have got my wires crossed. I found your phone number in Rose’s address book, listed under D. Burnett and assumed ...’
‘That’s my father, David Burnett. His cousin, Hugh, lived at Rowanbank, until he died last year, as I’m sure you’re aware. Uncle Hugh’s first wife, Mary, was Aunt Rose’s twin sister.’
‘Yes, of course — it all makes sense now.’ He stretched out a hand. ‘I’m Keir Ellison, Miss Burnett. I moved into Rowanbank last summer.’
Her fingers tingled as they made contact with his. She had to admit he was a seriously attractive man. For a moment, their eyes met and then she lowered her gaze, feeling oddly disturbed.
‘I’ll go and heat up that soup,’ he told her. ‘Ready in ten minutes.’
Sophie barely had time to remove her wet anorak, towel and brush her damp hair and have a quick wash. Her head was in a whirl.
Sophie and her family hadn’t realised anyone had moved into Rowanbank. They’d assumed the neighbour who’d left the message had been someone from the adjacent cottage.
Sophie crossed to the small lattice window and peered out, but the view was practically obliterated by a blanket of snow. It was at least a couple of years since she’d last been here, but her parents had stayed with Aunt Rose when they’d attended Hugh’s funeral last year.
After her sister, Mary, had died, Aunt Rose had helped keep house for her brother-in-law, Hugh, but then, right out of the blue, many years later he’d remarried and his second wife, Erica, had made it abundantly clear that Rose was no longer welcome at Rowanbank. Soon after Hugh had died, Erica had gone abroad.
A few minutes later, Sophie was seated in Aunt Rose’s small kitchen with a stea
ming bowl of soup in front of her and a plate of sandwiches.
‘Aren’t you going to stay for a cup of tea, Keir?’ Rose asked, as he got to his feet. ‘Surely your class will be cancelled tonight?’
‘Yes, I expect so, but I’ll leave you two to catch up. You must have a lot to talk about so I’ll say goodbye for now.’
And he was gone. For a large man he moved quickly, Sophie thought, wondering fleetingly how old he was.
Aunt Rose set down her cup. ‘Keir has been very good to me. I couldn’t wish for a better neighbour.’
Sophie took a spoonful of soup. It was wonderfully warming.
‘Did he really make this soup?’
‘He’s a man of many talents and is quite capable of looking after himself with a little help from Mavis Briggs, his cleaning lady.’
‘Mrs Briggs! She was Uncle Hugh’s cleaning lady too, wasn’t she? I used to play with her daughter, Crystal, when I stayed at Rowanbank as a child. We’ve kept in touch ever since.’
‘Goodness knows what state that house would have been in without Mavis and her husband keeping an eye on it all those weeks it was standing empty.’
‘I’m surprised Erica didn’t stay there until it was sold.’
‘Oh, it was as if she couldn’t wait to shake the dust of Penbridge from her heels. She cleared off abroad almost as soon as it was decently possible. Anyway, Keir’s at Rowanbank now and I couldn’t be more pleased. Now, tell me all that’s been going on in your life since I last saw you.’
The time passed pleasantly as Sophie filled Rose in, carefully glossing over her reasons for leaving Buckinghamshire and, instead, telling Aunt Rose about the temporary post, teaching English in Hertfordshire, which had recently come to an end.
Aunt Rose, who was a very discreet lady, had been told by Sophie’s parents, when they’d visited, about the way Sophie had been treated by her ex-boyfriend.
‘We wish Sophie would talk about it, get it out of her system, but I’m afraid she just clams up if we attempt to raise the subject,’ Anne Burnett had said worriedly.
