Full Circle (12 page)

‘I thought you were supposed to be working from home. Surely you haven't taken a day off already?'

‘Indeed I have not. If there is thinking to be done, then where better than walking the country lanes?' The smile on his face was reflected in his tone of voice as he added, ‘My mind turned to my previous visits here and I sensed I could smell coffee brewing. Would I be right, or was it wishful thinking?'

She seemed powerless to refuse him, or even to stop her face from breaking into a smile. He was indolent; he played at work because he felt safe in the family business while his elder brother shouldered the responsibility. He didn't appear to take even his marriage or parenthood seriously. He saw life as a game. These were some of the things she was telling herself as she led the way to the kitchen. He was the sort of man for whom she had neither time nor respect. So why did she fill the globe-shaped bowl of the coffee maker with water?

‘We need the coffee beans ground. The grinder is—'

‘I know where the coffee grinder is. It's just inside the larder door. Oh, but I say, you've got rid of the old one. This is very state of the art.'

‘It still needs all your elbow grease, so if you want coffee you have to earn it.'

He spooned the beans into the funnel and started to turn the handle.

‘This is nice. You don't exactly welcome me with open arms and yet I feel so at home here.'

‘If you've been used to coming here most of your life you are hardly likely to feel a stranger.' Perhaps that sounded more welcoming than she intended, so she added, ‘I look on Bella as a friend so naturally I wouldn't turn her husband away.'

‘That's my girl. The beans are ready; shall I put all of them in the top of the machine?'

‘Yes. I measured them out before you ground them. They won't take long. I usually let the water boil up twice.'

‘A lady after my own heart; there's nothing worse than a feeble cup of coffee. Ciggy?'

‘Let's wait until we take the coffee outside. It's too good a morning to waste indoors.'

‘Wasn't that what you were doing when I interrupted your labours? I seem to remember hearing your workroom door shut before you bid me enter.'

What was there about him that gave her this feeling that he was laughing at her –
at
her, not
with
her? ‘That's different,' she snapped, ‘I wasn't wasting my time, I was working. Just as I shall be again when we have had our coffee and you've gone on your way. Do you take sugar? I can't remember.' In fact, she could remember perfectly well that he wanted neither milk nor sugar. ‘No? Then we won't bother to take it out with us.' To her own ears she sounded crabby, unwelcoming. But he appeared to be completely unaware of it, which did nothing to improve her humour.

A few minutes later it was impossible not to relax outside in the warm sunshine, sipping strong black coffee and inhaling the vaguely scented smoke from the cigarette he had passed her.

‘I've never smoked these before,' she said, looking at the cigarette she held between her fingers, ‘the oval shape makes it feel odd to hold.'

‘You don't like them?
Passing Cloud.
I bought my first packet when I was still at school and felt frightfully sophisticated.' He laughed, remembering. ‘I considered them more glamorous than the ordinary ones Dad smoked.'

‘And are you still striving to give the impression of sophistication?' She made sure her tone held a note of mockery, even though as happened so often with him, she was interested in his answer.

‘No. That sort of thing dies with adolescence. It's all part of growing up. You must have found that yourself.'

‘I honestly don't think I gave it any thought. I only had one goal and that was – still is, for that matter – to be as well qualified as my male peers and, if I'm truthful, to overtake them.'

He was looking at her thoughtfully, trying to imagine this groomed and confident woman being young and gauche.

‘Now, there's a wasted youth for you! I shall never believe you had nothing more exciting to dream about than other people's finances.'

She frowned, annoyed with herself that she had led the conversation into a trap.

‘To be honest,' she answered, speaking the truth, ‘I wasn't interested in a client's finances except that my work involved the figures and I was, I
am
, vitally interested in accuracy. Right is right and there is no other way.'

For once he studied her seriously. ‘You are a remarkable woman, Louisa Harding. I understand what you mean. I knew it without your having to spell it out to me. Just to look at you: not a hair would dare to escape out of place, as immaculate at home on your own as you would be in town with a client.' The brief moment of seriousness had been overtaken by the merriment that danced in his eyes.

She was annoyed. Was being fastidious in her appearance something to turn her into a figure of fun?

‘And you?' she retorted, none too politely. ‘Work may not be important to you but clearly you are pernickety about your appearance. So why should you expect me to be different?'

‘Don't be cross,' he smiled disarmingly, ‘you know I was pulling your leg.' And again he had wrong-footed her, sending her confidence on a downward spiral.

‘How are your family, Bella and Alicia?' she asked.

Immediately his manner changed. There was warmth in his expression, and she felt she had intruded into happiness she had no right to see.

‘She is so beautiful,' he said softly. ‘I've never felt so – so – I don't know what it is. It's not just love; it's not as simple as that.'

‘Yes, she is truly beautiful. And, Leo, she must have been frightened to death but she was so brave, so incredibly brave.'

‘Bella? Yes, you said, and I'm sure she was. She's a good lass. You know, I envy her. Nature gives her a claim on Alicia that I'm outside of. This morning I went into her room and she was holding Alicia. I was jealous. I'm ashamed to say it, but it's the truth. The baby was at her breast, lying there in her arms and gazing up at her with a sort of unblinking stare. You could almost feel the bond binding them together and I was on the outside.'

‘But that's imagination, Leo. The love Bella feels for Alicia is natural, but it won't take anything from what she feels for you. If ever a young wife adores her husband, then it's Bella.'

He frowned, puzzled. ‘I didn't mean that. Never mind. I can't expect you to understand how I felt when I can't even understand it myself. The night she was born, when I carried her up to the bed you'd made for her, it was the oddest, most overwhelming sensation I've ever known. A feeling so pure, so – so humbling.'

‘She's a lucky little girl. I wonder whether all new fathers feel like that?' She thought of her own father and felt sure they didn't. In the last minute or two she believed Leo had let her see a side of his nature he usually kept hidden behind his banter. Later she would think about it or, perhaps more accurately, she would try to push it to the bottom of her mind. For she was certain his words hadn't been spoken lightly and she knew instinctively he wasn't a man to share his emotions easily. Then she conjured up the image of Bella holding the baby to her breast, Bella who adored him and deserved more from him than he gave. ‘It's time I went back to my world of figures and you got walking and dreaming up some new agricultural masterpiece. Give my love to Bella and tell her I'll look in tomorrow, if that's OK.'

‘Yes, m'am, message received. If there's to be no, “May I get you another cup?” I shall leave you to your labours.' He stood up to leave and then hesitated. ‘Louisa, you didn't mind me dropping in like this? I enjoy talking to you, you're – oh, I don't know – you're
sound
. Is that crazy? It is meant as a compliment, I promise you.'

‘I'm not looking for compliments. If you want to call in, of course you may. But, if I'm up to my eyes in work you mustn't mind if I send you packing.'

His smile told her he was pleased with her answer.

As summer gave way to autumn they followed the rules: every few days he would stroll up the garden path and, on her instruction, rather than knock at the front door he would walk round to the back door and go straight into the kitchen. If she was busy, true to her word, she would ‘send him packing'. Otherwise, they would exchange views on things they'd read in the morning paper, often but not always seeing things from the same angle. Louisa's life had been insular, but that wasn't borne out in her interests. Like so many loners she read widely, was interested in the arts and loved music, even though she had never learnt to play an instrument. And to her surprise, fun-loving Leo was very similar, so there was never any shortage of topics for them to unravel and rebuild. Louisa found herself increasingly enjoying her time with him, but while she grew closer to Leo and, she was sure, he grew closer to her, she was mindful of the fact that he was Bella's husband, and never considered his attentions as anything more than those of a friend.

Bella was a natural homemaker and was in her element at Ridgeway Farm. If she needed advice she asked Eva Johnson, who enjoyed teaching ‘the pretty child who had stolen young Leo's heart after all his years of philandering'. Eva had never had a daughter and her two sons had moved far away up north, so she liked to think of herself as taking the place of the mother poor Bella had lost so long ago. Altogether it was a happy situation and with every passing day Bella gained more respect for the way she filled her role. As for Harold, as his mind became more vacant he found a new contentment. To have Leo, always his favourite, actually living at home again made him feel secure. But more than that there was Bella with the baby, a new joy to fill his days.

To be well groomed was second nature to Harold. Each morning when he arrived at the breakfast table he was shaved, his tie the correct shade to go with his shirt and a clean white handkerchief just protruding from the breast pocket of his jacket. Yet despite that, there was one morning in October when he wore one brown shoe and one black. When Leo pointed it out to him he was mortified, especially as Bella was within earshot. What sort of an old fool would she think him? But Bella, with more consideration of other people's feelings than her husband, gave no hint that she had been listening to what was said, purposely making a noise running water and clattering plates as she prepared to bring the dish of food to the table. The shoes were forgotten and Harold might have been left wearing odd ones all day but for the fact that as Leo went to get ready before setting out for a meeting with an old client she followed him upstairs.

‘Before you go, don't forget to help Dad with his shoes,' she whispered quite unnecessarily as Harold was downstairs leaning over Alicia's pram, chattering to her and trying to be the one to have her first smile.

‘You can do that,' Leo answered, puzzled by the request.

‘No, please, you help him. He didn't know I heard so let him think no one noticed except you. He'd be embarrassed.'

Leo put his finger under her chin and tipped her face towards his. ‘You really are a very nice person, Bella Carter.'

Did she imagine it or did the colour really rush to her face as she stood quite still with her lips parted? Of course, he read the invitation and accepted it. His mind was running away with him. Ever since he had brought her home with a one-day-old baby she and Alicia had shared the room next to his. She had said that with three-hourly feeds she would worry that he was being disturbed. So did she imagine he slept contentedly all night? How could she feel Alicia's sweet mouth pulling at her breast and not be aroused, as aroused as he was as he lay there imagining?

She moved slightly away from him but he pulled her close, his hand moving under her jumper to hold the firm fullness of her swollen breast.

‘Careful, darling Leo. It's nearly time for baby's feed; you mustn't do that to me or it'll leak.'

He withdrew his hand, his sudden ardour banished by her matter-of-fact tone. To fondle her full breast, to imagine the blood-warm milk trickling on to his fingers had brought him almost to the point of losing control, yet her voice had the effect of dousing him with cold water again. Letting go of her he turned away, but she appeared to think he was simply seeing the wisdom of her warning.

‘You will remember to help Dad?' she whispered.

‘Of course.'

‘Thanks. What time are you meeting … whoever it is?'

‘Not for ages. But I shall go as soon as I'm ready. I prefer to be early.'

In fact, he needn't have left home for another hour, something that had been in his mind as he had made such an ineffectual effort to excite Bella.

Breakfast only just over and a day waiting to be lived, he knew this was no time to give in to the way his thoughts were turning. All he really needed was for her to let him know that her imagination had carried her on a journey similar to his. But this was Bella, sweet, affectionate but with a mind that never strayed away from the routine of her day. Not for a second would she have suspected that his caress had been more than an affirmation of pleasure that she had followed him to the bedroom that, until Alicia's birth, they had shared.

‘I'd better go down,' she said. ‘I told Dad not to pick Alicia up, but you know how he loves to hold her when I pass her to him. He's really much better here, isn't he? And he even understands now that it's Louisa at The Retreat when we go there, not their old friend. You know what I was thinking, Leo? I was thinking that when I go into the village this morning I would take him and we'd call and see Louisa on the way. If I had a whisper to her I'm sure she would agree for him to sit and talk to her while Alicia and I do the shopping. Don't you think that would be extra good for him?'