by FJ Campbell
‘Some friends from the village; they’re heading down to the pub, they called to see if I wanted a pint and a game of darts.’
She moved over to the record player and stacks of records in the corner and flipped through them. ‘Bob Dylan, Cat Stevens, Otis Redding, The Beatles, Nina Simone, Frank Sinatra… are all these yours? Don’t you have any new music? From people who aren’t practically dead?’
‘They’re my mum and dad’s.’
Her face fell. ‘Oh God, I didn’t mean—’
‘It’s OK, I know what you meant. I don’t have any money to buy anything new, but I like all this. It reminds me of them.’ He took an album called She Shot Me Down from her hand and said, ‘Not that one, it’s too sad; here, put this one on’, and handed her Revolver.
She wrinkled her nose. ‘The Beatles? Really?’ She put it on, stepped over to the bookshelf and pulled out a few paperbacks. ‘So many books. Have you read all these? Are they yours, or your parents’?’
‘They’re mostly Mum’s. Dad wasn’t much of a reader. I’ve read some of them. I bought some from the second-hand bookshop in the village. Mr Gifford sometimes gives me old copies of books he thinks I’ll like.’
‘You’ve got a lot of people looking out for you.’
‘I grew up here. It’s funny – all the villagers, Dad’s friends, think I’m posh. Everyone at school thinks I’m an oik. I don’t really feel like I belong anywhere. But everyone’s been really nice since… since… I don’t feel too lonely.’
‘Shit, what did you do for Christmas? Your first Christmas alone. I totally forgot.’
‘Guy invited me over to Jersey. His parents gave me the plane ticket for Christmas. He and Theo have another two younger brothers and about twelve dogs. It was so loud and hectic, I didn’t have time to feel sad.’
‘See, everyone looks out for you.’ She threw herself back down on the sofa and sighed. Here, There and Everywhere was playing and she listened to it. ‘Actually, this is a lovely song. Maybe The Beatles are OK after all. What time is it? I’m wide awake. How about the pub?’
‘It’s already eleven; we’ll have missed last orders. We could go for a walk?’
He found some warm clothes for her – an old coat of his mum’s, a spare pair of gloves, a woolly hat and a scarf that he wound round and round her neck.
‘Where are we going? Another secret garden?’
‘Sort of,’ was all he would say.
She followed him in the darkness and grumbled all the way up the hill, but at the top caught sight of the lights and the shadowy slopes rolling towards the horizon and the black sea.
‘We used to come here. Mum and Dad and I, for picnics and camping. When I’m up here, everything else, school stuff; it seems less important somehow.’
Beth said, ‘You know what I think when I see a view like this? I imagine that on every hill in the whole world, there are two people like us having a conversation just like we are. Not just right now, but ever since there were hills and people and for the rest of time. Pretty depressing, huh?’
‘No, I think it’s quite reassuring.’
*
The following morning, Milo gave her a lift back to Melchester in Mrs Toms’ borrowed car. For the first part of the journey they sat in silence, but Beth shuffled up in her seat and cleared her throat.
‘I had a really nice day yesterday, Milo; I’m so glad I found your cottage again.’
‘Me too.’
‘But, you know, we haven’t really talked about a couple of things. I suppose we should get them sorted out or we’ll have it hanging over us.’
‘Go ahead,’ he said.
‘Well, first of all, about Edward. You told me what you think and I understand that he’s your friend and you’re worried about him. I’ll sort it out, I promise. I like him too, I won’t hurt him. You’ll have to trust me. Agreed?’
Milo nodded, but didn’t say anything.
‘OK. Good enough. Also, about Melanie. I don’t want to pry, if you don’t want to tell me. But—’
‘Nothing happened. You sort of interrupted it with your surprise visit.’
‘She’s nice.’
He shrugged. ‘She’s OK. I don’t think she likes me any more, though.’
Beth sat back in her seat and looked out at the Wessex countryside flashing past. She was friends with Milo again. The argument about Edward was resolved, sort of. He hadn’t slept with Mel. Not that he shouldn’t. But perhaps he could do better than her?
‘You’ll do the play again with me, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
Beth clapped her hands over her face. ‘Oh shit, I forgot to call Livvy yesterday to say that I was safe, not that she deserves it.’
‘It’s OK, I called her when you were out cold, Sleeping Beauty. She had something called a “bad trip”, whatever that is, and BJ took her home. She’s fine. What was it you were all doing anyway?’
Beth explained about the barn and the party, but Milo kept interrupting her.
‘What’s house music?’
‘What’s ecstasy?
‘What’s a rave?’
‘Honestly, Milo, you are such a country bumpkin. Don’t you know about any of this stuff? It’s been around in London for ages.’
Milo looked sheepish. ‘I’ve never been to London.’
‘What? Seriously? In this day and age?’
‘Mmm. You know, that barn used to be part of my grandparents’ farm. I wonder how the rave organisers set it all up, got everyone there?’
‘They hand out flyers and you’re supposed to call a mobile phone—’
‘A mobile what?’
She was about to start explaining what a mobile phone was, when she glanced across at Milo, who was trying to keep a straight face.
‘Oh, ha ha, very hilarious.’
CHAPTER 10
A week later, school began. This was a big term for Beth – she’d have her Cold Comfort Farm script back soon from Mr Gifford and the auditions were planned for the last week of January. She was nervous about Edward; the two-week break didn’t seem to have changed the way he felt about her. On Tuesday she spoke to him in the dining hall to make arrangements for her first riding lesson, and during the brief conversation he didn’t meet her eyes once. I must be mad, she thought; horses are really not my thing. But at least it would give her a chance to be alone with him and explain her feelings, or lack of them.
That Saturday, the sun shone and the frost cleared early. It was mild and bright. At breakfast Guy and Milo were talking about that afternoon’s hockey team trials. Beth was still unconvinced by the attraction of team sports, and hockey in particular looked like a complete waste of time, knocking a bit of plastic around with some sort of a wooden club – plus, wasn’t it a game for girls? But they persuaded her to come and watch for a bit, before she met Edward at the stables.
After lunch she changed into a warm jacket and jeans, and walked down with Livvy and Henry to the hockey pitch. She brought her new video camera, the latest Sony from America, which James had sent her for Christmas. When they arrived, the hockey players had already started so Beth turned on the camcorder and began filming. The coach had set up the pitch so that it looked like an obstacle course, with cones and targets and balls and sticks lying everywhere. She filmed for a while, practising different angles and ranges, at one point standing behind the goal, as close as she dared to the netting. Whoever was in goal was a braver soul than she – the other players were smashing the hard ball at him over and over again, and she flinched when it hit his body pads or gloves, or when he kicked it away with a giant padded boot. She zoomed in as a ball thunked onto his helmet, and then laughed in surprise as the goalie took off his helmet and shook his head from side to side. It was Milo. He gave her the thumbs-up, clipped his helmet back on and faced the next shot. She moved away to the safety of the benches near the halfway line.
Edward turned up at exactly three o’clock as they’d arranged, to take her to t
he stables. Beth caught Milo’s eye and waved goodbye to him. Guy, remembering the catastrophe of the Sherton Abbas rugby game, cracked a ball up into the air straight past Milo’s helmet to score the first goal of the afternoon.
‘Tsk tsk, eyes on the game, please, goalkeeper,’ he shouted gleefully as he collected the ball from the back of the net. He tapped Milo on the shoulder. ‘She’s like your very own Kryptonite.’ And he walked away.
‘Wanker.’
*
Edward showed Beth how to groom, feed and water the horses and get to know them. Gilbert was frighteningly black and enormous, but Caspar, Bonnie’s horse, was much smaller, a silver-grey colour, quiet and steady. Just right for Beth to learn on, Edward explained. They put on the saddle and bridle and she sat on Caspar as Edward led him out into the paddock, holding his reins.
The light was fading as they finished clearing away the equipment and sat down on a bench near the stable doors.
‘Oh, I have some news for you – I was talking to my mother about your play and she knows a friend of Stella Gibbons, who lives in France but is visiting us next weekend. We’d like to invite you to stay, so that you can meet her and discuss the play. She might have some really wonderful ideas about how it could work.’
‘Oh, I’d love to meet her, that sounds awesome, thank you so much. Next weekend would be perfect, before the auditions. Is that really OK if I come and stay for the weekend? Will I meet Bonnie, will she be there?’
Edward stiffened. ‘No, she’s away at the moment. But listen, I have to tell you something else. My father has set up an exchange for me, at a school in West Berlin, for six weeks. It starts at the end of the month. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go away. But I want to get my German up to scratch and it’ll be really exciting to be in Berlin at the moment. Also, I know you said at the Christmas party that you wouldn’t go out with me… but we get along so well, I love spending time with you. I want to ask you – will you please think about it again, in those weeks when I’m away? I’ll miss you so much, I’ll write to you all the time, and when I get back, I’m going to ask you out again. Please? May I?’ His voice was strained with abject desperation, his body tensed, his eyes wide open.
‘Perhaps. I don’t know. I’ll think about it. I do like you, but I can’t promise anything.’ She felt like he was wearing her down. The more she said no, the more he persisted. She felt so terribly guilty. Maybe it would be the right thing to say yes. But surely that wouldn’t be honest? Oh, she didn’t know what to do. He was behaving like a madman. Wearily, she stood up, said goodbye to him and walked out into the dusk.
The orange sunset framed her shadow as she walked towards the open doors at the far end of the stables. Edward sat and watched her black silhouette dwindle into nothing.
*
The following weekend, Beth and Edward travelled on the train from Melchester to Cornwall together. A car with a driver picked them up from Bodmin station and Beth tried to behave like this was normal. While the driver picked up her bag and opened the car door for her, she caught Edward’s eye.
‘Your family has a chauffeur, Edward?’ she said out of the corner of her mouth as they sat in the back seat. ‘What are you, royalty or something?’
Edward smiled at her. He was more relaxed and cheerful than at school. ‘Samways is my father’s driver – you know, he has to be up and down to London and to the airport. He doesn’t like to stay in his flat in London all the time. So if he’s driven, he can get on with some work while he travels. Even you, little socialist, can’t fault the logic in that.’
Less than ten minutes later, the car turned into a tree-lined gravel driveway, through a set of stone gateposts and low iron railings, and approached an old, three-storey granite manor house. Beth gasped at the beauty of it. The sun was setting behind the low stables to the right of the house. The gravel crunched under the wheels of the car as they slowed at the imposing entrance. Beth grabbed Edward’s hand. He froze, a look of shock quickly giving way to a shy smile of joy as he gave her hand a small squeeze.
‘Are you all right, Beth? It’s not too much? Do you like it?’
‘It’s way too much and I love it,’ she whispered.
Edward’s mother was waiting to greet them as they walked through a stone archway that led into a shady courtyard. She looked nothing like Edward – he must take after his father, who was due back later that evening. She gave Beth a hug, which was when she realised she was still clutching Edward’s hand. He noticed her embarrassment and let her hand go reluctantly. Edward’s mother led them both through the door and past a vast staircase in the hallway, into a beautiful living room with windows looking out onto a dazzling frost-covered view, with two enormous oak trees framing the sloping park. There were no other houses to be seen. Trees and ice, all the way to the horizon.
‘Is that Bodmin Moor? The light here…’ Beth breathed. ‘It’s so…’
‘Isn’t it perfect?’ agreed Edward’s mother. ‘This is our favourite room of the house, isn’t it, Eddie?’
Beth was offered tea – with a proper cup and saucer – and Edward’s mother filled them in about the evening. The friend of Stella Gibbons was due any moment; she’d be staying at the house for a few days. At dinner, a few other guests were expected; in all they would be about twenty people. They needed to dress up.
‘Did Eddie mention to bring a party dress? Good. Eddie, take Beth up to the blue spare room, please.’
In the blue spare room – they had more than one spare room! – Beth had a bath in the en suite, changed into her new dress, dried her hair, leaving it down so it fell in dark waves over her shoulders, put on make-up and waited for Edward. Eventually she heard a soft knock on the door and jumped up to open it.
‘Wow,’ he stammered, ‘I… you look…’
‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’ Beth smiled. He was wearing a dinner jacket with a white waistcoat and a white tie. He looked so natural and handsome in it, Beth was again astonished at the change in him. It was like he was one person at The Island and another completely different person here. She hooked her arm through his and they made their way downstairs. They could hear the front door opening and closing, voices chattering, the distant sound of music, and as they came down the stairs, they saw the flowers and candles that had transformed the hallway.
Beth was introduced to Mr Markham, who was as handsome as his son – tall and dignified, not a hair out of place. Edward spent the entire evening at her side, introducing her to everyone, listening carefully when she spoke and watching her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. She had a lovely time. She drank champagne and ate everything she was given, even though she didn’t have a clue what it was. It all tasted wonderful.
She sat between Stella Gibbons’ friend and Edward at dinner, and asked a ton of questions about the author and the book. The friend was interested in Beth’s play and said she would come and watch the performance. Beth wished that Edward had also invited Milo – he would have loved it here too, with Edward’s family, eating all this posh food.
When all the guests had gone, Edward took Beth to her door and kissed her cheek, murmuring, ‘Goodnight.’ She thought for a moment that he was about to try and kiss her properly, but he blinked twice and walked off down the corridor to his room.
CHAPTER 11
On Sunday afternoon, Edward dropped Beth off at Bodmin train station, so she could return to school. He was flying to Berlin early on Tuesday morning but wanted to spend Sunday night at home, to see his sister who was returning from her friend’s house.
Beth knew she’d miss Edward. He was very attentive and his family were so kind. But she was also a little relieved to have some breathing space. He was sometimes too attentive; it made her feel like she had a bodyguard, rather than a boyfriend. Was he her boyfriend? They hadn’t even kissed, and Beth didn’t think she wanted to. He was such a clever, interesting person, and very, very handsome. But she didn’t know if she was attracted to him; something was missing,
some spark.
It was already dark when she stepped onto the connecting train at Exonbury. The train was packed. She was lucky to find a window seat next to a middle-aged lady. She settled down to read her book while the rain drummed on the window next to her head. She might have to ask the lady to wake her up at Melchester; she already felt sleepy, the carriage was so warm.
A voice broke into her thoughts. ‘I’m awfully sorry, but I think you’re sitting in my seat.’
She looked up from her book, annoyed at the interruption.
‘You see, I reserved a seat – look, here’s my ticket; seat 22A – I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to move.’
Beth hadn’t thought to book a ticket, and she was angry with herself and this boy, who looked vaguely familiar. He was about the same height as her, with longish, messy blond hair falling into his eyes, which were an icy green colour, surrounded by long, thick eyelashes. He was grinning at her mischievously.
‘Don’t I know you from school? Yes, I’m sure you go to my school.’
Beth stood up without answering and rammed her book into the pocket of her coat, reaching up into the luggage rack for her bag as the middle-aged lady moved her legs to one side. Beth lost her balance slightly and the bag dropped off the rack. An arm shot up and caught it easily, pushing it back up onto the rack.
‘Tell you what, don’t worry about moving, I can find another seat. You stay there, it’s all the same to me.’ He turned around and sauntered off to the front of the carriage. There were no seats left for him, Beth was sure of that, but she appreciated his manners. She sat down again.
Twenty minutes later, the lady sitting next to her started gathering herself together and as she stood up, she nudged Beth.
‘I’m getting off at this stop. Would you like me to tell your friend he can come and sit next to you, on my way out?’
‘He’s not my friend, I don’t know him.’
‘He’s very good-looking, isn’t he; sexy, I mean? Have fun. Bye.’
Beth would rather not have sat next to anyone, sexy or not, but she supposed it was only fair as he’d given her his seat. He soon slid into the seat next to her and without a word, fixed his eyes on hers. She held his gaze for as long as she could, then looked at the back of the seat in front of her. She flicked her eyes back to him and he was still staring at her. Jesus. What was he doing? He looked at her like he was seeing her naked.
