The Miller's Dance (28 page)

I
believe you're half serious.'

'More than half, I tell you!'

'Well, don't be. And pray change the subject.'

'Now, now, don't go prinkish on me or I shall slap you.'

'D'you think we shall fight a lot when we're married?'

'No.
Two doves cooing, that'll be us. But if there
is
a fight, well ... loving, fighting, eadng, drinking, breathing deep and living to the full, that's how folk are meant to be, isn't it? Life's short enough anyway; youth's shorter. I can't bear to sleep long of nights for fear of missing something!'

'Agreed,' said Clowance, talcing a breath. 'Oh, I do agree with you on that!'

A hand was plucking at her sleeve.

if ee plaise, miss. Yer leddyship. If ee plaise. Buy a putty necklace. Handsome stones, they be. Handsome, 'andsome, you. Very cheap. Very good. All made wi' special strong thread, so it shall not ever snap. Not ever, yer leddyship.'

A wizened child of uncertain age - perhaps ten, perhaps fourteen - a girl probably, held in her thin dirty hand two necklaces made of some sort of blue stone, which no doubt had been picked up round the coast and crudely polished. There were a half-dozen stones to each necklace, drilled, and threaded with coarse twine. Clowance did not know if the girl had attached herself to them recently or followed them from the gypsy camp.

'Get off!' said Stephen. 'Be off wi' ye!' And raised a hand to strike the child. She shrank away behind Clowance but did not retreat, keeping her glance first on the young lady for a sign of weakness, then on the young man for risk of attack.

Once, about a year ago, Demelza had told Clowance frankly of her first encounter with Ross, starving, cursing, ragged and bug-ridden, and although at the dme Clowance's youthful imagination had not been quite up to the task of picturing her beautiful mother in such a scene, now, a year later, it occurred to her suddenly like a knife in the side, that this must have been - or might just have been - the way her mother had looked at Redruth Fair thirty years ago.

She glanced up protestingly at Stephen, who, tor Heaven's sake and according to his own story, had been even worse circumstanced only twenty years since, and should by rights have all the sympathy in the world.

'How much are your necklaces, child?' she asked.'

'Six shillun, miss. Six shillun. Or five to you, yer leddyship. Five shillun and the best stones ye could ever find. An' special strong thread that'll never snap.' The litany of praise went on, while Stephen glowered and Clowance considered.

'Tis rubbish,' said Stephe
n. 'Ye'd find as good in the attl
e of any mine! Come away, m'dear, and leave the little gypsy rat go back to her hole.'

'Three shillings?' said Clowance.

'Four.'

Clowance hesitated and seemed about to turn away. 'Nay, three,' said the child. 'I'll tak three.' So the necklace was bought

'Do not put it near your neck,' said Stephen. 'Else you'll get scrofula. Off wi' y
ou! Go on now! Back to your den!
'

The child took the coins, bit them and then thrust them into some pocket in the depths of her grimy tunic Then she suddenly spat on the ground and made a mark in the spittle with her finger. She looked at Stephen with small red-rimmed eyes.

'Ye'll
never live to be old, mister. I'm telling ee. Ye'll never live to be old.'

IV

They had picknicked and wined excellently in the wagonette, with a lot of chatter and laughter, much of it contributed by Augustus Bettesworth, who seemed even more than usually boisterous, and by Jeremy who, released temporarily from the glooms of his passion, sparkled in front of the object of that g
loom-and made her laugh. Valenti
ne Warleggan had come in second on
Larkspur
in the
2.45,
and Jeremy and Cuby had lost their wager to a dragoon from St Austell, whose horse had won by a neck. About
3.15,
with three more races still to go, an auction of some of the winning horses was held behind the first stand, and most of the party, having no interest in the next race, drifted across to watch the bidding.

Although clouds were building up again in the west, the sun was still brilliant and the heat that of high summer.

Jeremy said to Cuby: 'Do you want to buy a horse?'

I
don't think so.'

'Nor do I. Are you interested?'

'Oh yes. I love horses.'

it will be very hot in the crowd. One w
ill be jostl
ed. Your frock might be trodden on. And the mud is not yet dry.'

She lifted an eyebrow. 'Why are we all going, then?'

'We need not. We could just walk.'

She considered this. It was a challenge. 'Where to?'

'You know, I suppose, we are near the river here.'

'Fairly. But the ground must slope sharply. Here we are on top of the hill.'

'Those woods lead down. About a mile perhaps. Even if we didn't go so far, we could stroll. It would be pleasanter.'

'And muddier.'

‘
Oh no.'

'Not muddier?
’

The tracks will be soft, perhaps. Damp leaves, perhaps. But mud is here only because of the carts and the horses.'

Cuby glanced across at Augustus who was talking flirtatiously with Elizabeth Boscawen. Clemency was with Nicholas Carveth.

'Well,' she said, 'then let us go for a stroll.'

At the edge of the field a gate led into the wood. Jeremy unlatched the gate and they went in. The ground
was
damp and he glanced anxiously at his capture but she did not complain. His light-hearted approach of today had succeeded beyond all his expectations. Aware that this was a holiday occasion, and particularly aware that at the moment they had both drunk numerous glasses of canary wine, he was not at all sure that this apparent progress really was advancing his suit-not when it came down to the cold light of day. Yet merely to be with her gave him new life and hope. And, whatever the softening circumstances, it was very unlikely she would have agreed to come with him in this way if she did not find pleasure in it too.

She lowered her sunshade as they went further in and down. 'When is your sister to marry?'

'At the end of next month. Would you come to the wedding?'

‘
I
think not. That would be too formal an acknowledgement that I was going against my brother's wishes. Jeremy -

‘
I
know. I'm sorry. I was breaking our agreement. Nothing serious shall henceforth be said.'

She stopped to examine one of her boots, pulled three large damp leaves off the heel,
I
wish nothing serious ever
had
to be said. How agreeable if we could just meet people in so unserious a manner!'

'Perhaps we can.'

'How?' she replied, it is impossible! In any event pleasantries would soon wear thin. It was beginning just then. Let us enjoy today.'

They walked on. There was an empty quiet in the wood, except for the thin rilling of water in a ditch. All the birds seemed to have fallen silent.

She said: Tell me about your ex
periments with the steam engine’

'Oh, those. They are not prospering.' He spoke of his meeting with Trevithick, hi
s semi-abandonment of the pro
ject.

'But you should not!' she said, if every inventor despaired when something went amiss, how little would ever be discovered.'

I
'm not an inventor. I am a
user and perhaps developer of o
ther people's inventions.'

'Even so.'

‘
Well, yes, I suppose you are right. I should continue. Of course recently I have lacked -' 'Go
on.'

'You may guess what I have lacked, which proves again how right you are to say that pleasantries soon wear thin.'

There were giant cow parsnips here, flowered and gone to seed, a thicket of gaunt stalks, holding up Japanese heads. She flicked at one and broke the stem with her parasol.

He said: 'Let me tell you of our new mine. It is open now and the engine I designed is working and working well. I have never told you of this?'

'No. Last year it was projected.'

'But you are interested?'

'Of course I am interested! Just because...'

He told her. After a while she began to chat of her own life, of Augustus's holiday with them from his work in London, of Clemency's misunderstanding with her music teacher, of a visit from her aunt and of the spaniel that nipped her ankle. Jeremy told her of Clowance and about Stephen. The most ordinary information, the lightest of communication between them, assumed instant importance.

They went down and down, unheeding. Then Cuby slipped on a fallen branch half buried in the ground and damp with lichen. He caught her arm and she steadied herself. She looked at the slanting light and said: 'Mercy, we must go back!'

'You can see the river from here.'

‘
I
know, but we must turn back nevertheless. I would not wish John to join our party and find me wanting.'

They began to retrace their st
eps. Jeremy retained her arm in
a light, un-familiar fashion and did not find himself rebuffed. They climbed back alongside the rill of water, pushing among sycamore saplings whose huge damp leaves glowed in the shafts of sun.

After a bit they paused for breath and Cuby leaned back against a tree behind her. He put a hand on her other arm, smiled at her cheerfully. They stood for some seconds before he kissed her, and then it seemed as if her mouth came up to meet his own. The heightened sensation of face to face and lip to lip created emotions that made the rest of the day trivial and without point.

After a pause to take in scant breath Jeremy allowed his fingers to stroke the curve of her cheek.

'That was,' he said, and swallowed and tried again; 'that was not at all disagreeable. All things considered, it was -not at all disagreeable.'

He stopped, aware of the flicker of surprise in her at the lightness of his tone.

'D'ye know that poem?' he said. '

"Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, youth's a stuff will not endure."'

Her face looked as if it was going to go dull on him, but after a hesitation the sparkle came back, and she smi
led
though there was a hint of wryness in the smile.

'Jeremy, I have told you, it is time we went.'

'Of course it is time we went! We must hurry away. But don't you agree that we are behaving according to the rules we set ourselves today?'

.'Well, I'm not sure.'

'Why are you not sure? We are not being serious, are we?' it is not so much that...' 'Did you not ever play kissing games as a little girl ?' 'Of course. But this -' She stopped, hoist with her own petard. He bent to kiss her again. 'Stop it!' 'But why?'

'You know why!' 'No, I do not.'

‘
Well...' She tried to move away from the tree, it is time we were back.'

'Of course it is time we were back. Was I not just saying so?
’

Because she did not offer him her mouth, he kissed her forehead, her hair, her eyes, he
r cheeks, the very edge of her li
ps. She jerked her head away.

'Jeremy! I have told you!'

'What have you told me? Am I not behaving in an unserious manner?'

'You are behaving in
an unseemly
manner!'

'But is it not fun? Is it not what we came into the world for? Should we not seek happiness on this superficial level while we can?'

'Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! There: now let us go!'
‘

He gently edged away from her.

'So we shall go back now. I am at your service.'

She moved from the tree, brushing at a few green marks on her velvet frock,
I
shall have leaves all over me.'

'No, no. Just one or two.' Respectfully he picked them off her back and skirt.

She drew a deep breath. 'You really are quite ridiculous.'

'Of course,' he said. 'But you'll agree I am not allowing sincerity to break in.'

I
am coming to believe, Jeremy, that your only purpose in this world is to torment me!'

'My
only purpose in the world is to please you! To accept and honour your wishes in everything.'

She considered him, the oval of her face in shadow but clear like a cameo against the darker frame of her hair.

'Then let us go.'

They proceeded a
little
way. Bracken, creeping every
where, clutched at them with fingernails as they passed.
Two magpies began to chatter harshly, breaking the bird
silence. Cuby bowed towards them.