Echoes of the Dance (39 page)

Today, as soon as Gemma spoke, Kate could hear that her voice held a kind of suppressed excitement and was immediately alerted to the fact that something new had happened.

‘I know Guy will want to talk to you,' Gemma said, ‘but I thought I'd just . . . well, give you a bit of warning. This plan he's got. He might not be particularly tactful about it.'

‘You're beginning to frighten me,' said Kate. ‘What's happened? Do I gather that this move is going to be a bit further afield than Dartmouth or Fowey?'

‘Just a bit.' Gemma sounded nervous now. ‘The truth is, Kate, that he's talking of us going to Canada.'

Kate put a hand to her heart, as if she'd received a physical blow, and Gemma raised her voice as if she feared by the sudden silence that Kate could no longer hear her.

‘Are you there, Kate? I'm sorry to be the one to break the news but there's simply no way of wrapping it up. Guy's been thinking of it for a little while, apparently, but didn't think I'd like the idea. Now he says that it will be a new start for us all and I don't think I can afford to argue with him. To be honest, now I'm getting used to it, I'm quite excited. Oh God, that sounds so heartless, doesn't it, and we shall miss you so much but it's a wonderful opportunity.'

‘I'm sure it is.' Kate found her voice at last but she could hear that it sounded dull and flat. Canada seemed such a long way off. ‘Is this something to do with Mark, by any chance?'

‘Well, it is.' Gemma was clearly unhappy about explaining. ‘You know that when he left the Navy he emigrated to Canada and joined a friend's boat-building business? Well, recently he's been suggesting that Guy should come out and take over the brokerage side. Mark wants to retire and he thinks it would be a very good opportunity for Guy. I'm not very clear on all the technical bits but it's much the same as Guy is doing here except that they actually build some of the boats they sell. It's a family-run boat-yard, rather fun by the sound of it, and Guy could actually incorporate his own business into it. We'd be living on Prince Edward Island.'

There was another silence whilst Kate struggled to control her feelings and Gemma searched about for words. Kate got there first.

‘I can't pretend to be thrilled that you're all going so far away, Gemma,' she said. ‘You must know that this is a huge shock but if it's right for you and Guy and the twins – ' oh, the thought of not seeing the twins! – ‘I'm very pleased for you. Of course I am.'

‘This is bloody awful.' Gemma sounded exactly like Cass. ‘I can imagine what you're feeling, I'm not so selfish that I can't tell that you're gutted, but Guy seems very set on it and I don't feel that I'm in such a strong position to fight it.'

Briefly Kate was overwhelmed with anger: if Gemma had behaved herself none of this might be happening. How could she bear for them to go so far away? She tried to calm her fast-beating heart and to maintain a sense of balance.

‘The fact that it's all bound up with Mark doesn't help, does it?' Gemma was saying. ‘This is why I wanted to speak to you first. I hoped to be able to come over but Guy really has the bit between his teeth and I was afraid that he might just phone up and tell you without thinking. He can be a bit single-minded and then he's not aware of the effect he's having on other people. It'll take ages to get organized, of course, but I thought you should be warned.'

‘Do the twins know yet?'

‘I'm afraid they do. Not that it's definite but that there's a possibility. Ben is very excited but Jules is more cautious about it.'

Yes, thought Kate. Jules would be. He'd be anxious about making new friends, going to a new school. Jules would miss his trips over the moor to see his grandparents . . .

‘I suppose you haven't managed to be in touch with Cass?'

‘No. It's not the sort of thing to bounce on her while she's away. But we'll come back to see you all and I know that she and Pa will come and visit us. And you too, of course. You'll all come over together. It'll be fun.'

‘Of course.' Kate had no choice but to respond to Gemma's pleading. ‘Of course we will. Look, I must go. I've left the iron switched on upstairs . . .'

‘I'm sorry, Kate, I really am.'

‘You mustn't be, my darling. If it's right for you all then it's wonderful. Let me know how things go. Give the twins a hug.'

She stumbled upstairs, crossed the landing and found herself standing in the doorway of the playroom. A memory jogged her mind. Once, years ago at the cottage, on the boys' first day at boarding school, she'd stood like this, looking at their tidy bedroom, at the toys placed neatly on the beds. Back then she'd felt a similar sense of emptiness and fear, of apprehension for her children going away from home for the first time. This time, however, she was conscious of some other emotion: an awareness of some source of strength that she might call upon if only she knew how to begin. Confused and anxious, she strove for some kind of understanding but it eluded her.

Closing the door she went into the laundry room and stared around her: it was impossible to stand calmly ironing with all these thoughts and fears jumbling in her mind. She switched off the iron and went downstairs, wondering what she should do next. Her instinct was to speak to Giles – how comforting it would be to hear his voice just at this moment – but he might not have heard the news and, anyway, he would almost certainly be working. There was no answer from Roly's telephone – no doubt he was out with the dogs – and, once again, Kate longed for Cass to come dashing in to share the moment. After all, Cass and Tom would be just as gutted as she was to hear that Gemma and Guy and the twins were going so far away.

The usual answer to these moments of crisis was to go for a walk. Grieving was one thing, she reminded herself firmly, but self-pity was another and should be resisted. The moor, vast and unchanging, mysterious and magical, had never failed to bring a measure of comfort and peace, yet she longed for the company of a friend, someone who knew her and understood her, who loved her. She thought at once of the General, to whom she'd carried so many difficulties and fears, and wondered where he'd found his own particular brand of courage and wisdom.

She knew the answer, of course, and he'd left her his own source of comfort if only she would use it. The book opened easily at the well-read pages and her eyes jumped across the lines whilst she prayed for some kind of guidance and understanding.

No soul can have rest until it finds that created things are empty. When the soul gives up all for love, so that it can have Him that is all, then it finds true rest.

She let the tears come – ‘The whole point about grieving,' Roly had said, ‘is that you mustn't resist it. Don't feel guilty, welcome it, tell yourself that it's OK to be doing this just now' – and she wondered, after all, how many people she was actually grieving for. She seemed to be letting go so much of her past along with her tears for David. When the telephone rang she blew her nose and scrubbed at her cheeks before answering it.

‘Mum,' said Giles, ‘I've just had a call from Gemma. I was wondering whether you'd like me to come over. Or would you rather come here? Tessa says whichever is best for you.'

‘Oh, darling.' She could barely speak. ‘That would be so . . . nice. Are you sure?'

‘Quite sure. By the sounds of it I think I'd better come to you. I'll be over as soon as I can. Are you OK?

‘Yes. Yes, of course I am. It's just a bit of a shock.'

‘That's one way of putting it. Henry wants a word. Can you mange or do you need an interpreter?'

‘We manage very nicely. We just shout at one another and it works splendidly. Thanks, Giles. I can't tell you how grateful I am.'

‘Not a problem. See you soon. Ready, Henry? Say hello to Grannie.'

The following morning, driving home from Tavistock, Kate found that some instinct took her through Whitchurch and on towards Horrabridge. She was still reliving Giles's visit, grateful for his understanding and insight.

‘After all,' he'd said, ‘it's not just that Guy's decided to go out to Canada, is it? It's that he's going out to Dad. It's damaging to see it in terms of disloyalty but it's difficult to separate the emotions sometimes, isn't it?'

‘I don't really mind,' she'd answered carefully. ‘Much better that a relationship flowers late than it never flowers. Guy and Mark have always kept in touch and are very alike. My problem is seeing myself visiting them and meeting Mark again. How would that work?' She'd shaken her head. ‘I don't suppose Guy has even given it a thought.'

Now, as she slowed down at the end of Nat's lane, she saw the flicker of scarlet and blue outside the cottage door, and she turned the car in and drove carefully past the row of cottages. Janna was tending to the pots of flowers and her face lit with pleasure when she saw Kate.

‘Nat's off at work,' she said. ‘Park over by the garage and come and have some coffee.'

‘I just took a chance.' Kate stepped out of the car. ‘I've been wondering how you are every time I use my lovely cup and saucer.'

It was easy to see how Janna was simply by looking at her. There were dark rings under her eyes, and her skin was like old parchment, papery and discoloured. The lion's-mane hair was dry and lifeless and even the pretty blue and scarlet cotton dress couldn't disguise the sharp birdlike quality of her bones.

‘'Tis good to be here,' Janna said as they sat together on a beanbag at the open door. ‘I love the quiet and the smell of the lavender. 'Tis a little safe sort of haven.'

‘I can believe that.' Kate stood her mug on the cobbles and ran her fingers through the lavender flowers. ‘Heavenly. But don't you get tired of the peace and quiet after a while? Feel the need to be on the move again?'

Janna folded her arms and let her head fall forward so that her chin rested on her chest. Her profile was etched sharp and brittle against the dark green leaves of the rosemary bush, and her face was sad.

‘I do get like that,' she admitted. ‘I don't want to but I can't seem to help it. That's why I wondered . . .'

‘Wondered what?'

‘Whether it would be different if I had ties. Something to hold me in one place. I'd begun to think we could make it work, Nat and me, but it's changed.
He's
changed,' she corrected herself. ‘He's never really been happy about the idea of us living together as a couple and having a baby but I thought he was weakening.' She glanced at Kate, a quick sideways flick of the eyes. ‘You didn't think it would work, did you?'

‘No,' said Kate after a moment. ‘No, I didn't think it would work. It's too big a risk, Janna, for both of you and especially for the baby. You're such good friends, you and Nat. Isn't that enough?'

‘I could tell that night you came round to supper and told us about the cottage. You guessed, didn't you, that Nat and I had made love? You didn't say nothing but I could feel that you weren't happy about it.'

‘Yes, I guessed. But Nat wasn't happy either, even then, was he? He didn't feel right with himself.'

Janna shook her head. ‘He said he wasn't being honest about himself but even so I think he wasn't really sure it wouldn't work, not, like, real deep down. I still thought I could persuade him, I really did. But when I came back this time he told me he'd made up his mind. 'Twas all to do with Roly. Nat said that he's known the truth all along and I think 'twas realizing that Roly knew and it hadn't made any difference to the way he feels that made up Nat's mind. 'Tis silly really. He'd make a lovely dad.'

‘But would he? Supposing he began to believe that he was living a lie and became resentful? Suppose that even after the baby you still wanted to go travelling? To do the markets with Teresa and go on having your spliffs or dope or whatever you call it these days?' Kate smiled at Janna's expression. ‘Come off it, Janna. I'm not stupid. A baby should be a real commitment, something you both want more than anything in the world. It's not like buying a bottle of glue in the hope it'll keep you stuck together during difficult times. Good grief, there are enough hazards in the ordinary course of a relationship. Don't you think that Nat has the right of it?'

‘Perhaps. 'Twas just that I could see myself. You know? Living here with Nat and being like everyone else.'

‘Who wants to be like everyone else? What does that mean? It's an illusion. You and Nat have an amazing relationship. Why mess it up because of some biological urge? You love Nat, I know that, but are you
in love
with him?'

‘I dunno. What's the difference?'

‘Of loving and being in love? Oh, all the difference in the world. It's the difference between madness and peace. Between ecstasy and contentment. If you have to ask you've never been in love.'

Janna laughed: she seemed faintly embarrassed. ‘Maybe I haven't then.'

‘Well, wait until you are and then think about babies. Meanwhile, enjoy what you have with Nat without complicating it. Sorry, Janna. I didn't come this morning to give you a lecture. After all, what do I know? I'm an interfering old bat and you've been very patient.'