One Summer at Deer’s Leap. Elizabeth Elgin

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СКАЧАТЬ doing it. But then I suppose most aircrews got a bit stretched at times. I know I would have.’

      ‘So he’s young and attractive and you find his nervous habit endearing. Reckon you were born fifty years too late, old love.’

      ‘Maybe I was, but the matter doesn’t arise. He belongs to Susan. After all that time, he still loves her! If Piers had cared for me like that, I’d have eaten out of his hand!’

      ‘If I didn’t know you better, Cassie, I’d say you were a nutcase. As it is, I’m half inclined to believe you – about the ghost, I mean. I envy you really, but I’m a down-to-earth Scottish lassie and things like communing with World War Two flyers don’t happen to me.’

      ‘Then be glad of it!’ I really meant it, because since that first meeting when I’d thought Jack Hunter was one of Beth’s fancy-dress guests, he’d been there, waiting to take over every spare minute of my thoughts. ‘And I think we’d better talk about the luncheon. Can I do anything to help?’

      ‘No, thanks. The car should be dry by now. I’ll just give it a bit of a polish, then I’ll ring Susanna – ask directions. Think I’ll take the pretty route through the Trough and pick up some honey on the way. If you’re making toast, by the way, I’ll have a couple of slices. Cut thick, please.’

      ‘One day, Jeannie McFadden, all those calories are going to catch up with you, and when they do, don’t come running to me for sympathy,’ I laughed, wallowing once more in the contentment that hadn’t been far away since Piers drove out of my life in a cloud of dust. ‘And if you’re to get the speaker there on time, you’ll have to shift yourself!’

      

      Jeannie got back at seven, just as I was beginning to wonder if she’d had a flat, or run out of petrol.

      ‘You took your time! Got lost, or something?’

      ‘No. We left the do at four and Susanna asked me in for coffee, then showed me her place. She’s a real love. Y’know, if I could guarantee looking like she does, I wouldn’t mind getting old.’

      ‘Yes you would, Jeannie. You’d hate it – just like Susanna Lancaster does, I shouldn’t wonder. But tell me about her – and the house?’

      ‘We-e-ll, she told me she had plans, but didn’t elaborate. I think she will start another book, but it’s up to her. That house, though! I’d kill for it. It’s just outside Lancaster and pure Regency. Red brick, white doors and windows, and seven steps up to the front entrance. I counted. She must have made a pile!’

      ‘It follows. The television dramatizations alone must have sent her sales figures soaring. Is Dragonfly Morning going to sell, do you think?’

      ‘Hope so. It isn’t her usual thing; nothing to do with mystery and murder. Seems it’s a love story. She said it could have happened to anyone born in the twenties and whose young years had been touched by war.

      ‘Someone asked her if the book was fiction or biography, and she went a bit pink and said it was a bit of both really. I’ve brought you one – got her to sign it for you and she wrote something rather nice in it.’

      ‘Thanks a lot! What do I owe you?’

      ‘I’ll settle for a sandwich. I’m starving!’

      ‘Why? Wasn’t the lunch any good?’

      ‘It was fine – but somehow we seemed to talk instead of eat. You know how it is with working lunches? You balk against speaking with your mouth full and the next thing you know it’s gone cold and they’re pushing the next course at you! I’ll just get out of these things – won’t be a minute.’

      I looked at the book she had left on the table. The jacket was stark and eye-catching; a girl on a bluff, alone against a morning sky, and shaded hills in the background. Her face had a waiting look, her eyes were anxious. The artist had done a good job. I turned to the title page.

      For Cassie, a new author,

      from Susanna Lancaster,

      an old one.

      ‘You told her,’ I asked, embarrassed, ‘that I was a writer.’

      ‘But of course! I also told her your first novel made it to the bestseller lists.’

      ‘Only just! I made a very little plop in a very big pond!’

      ‘She was impressed, for all that. She knows that most first novels don’t do as well as yours. She told me about her very first effort; said it came back so quickly from every publisher she sent it to that she was sure they hadn’t even bothered to read it. “Of course,” she said, “I know now that it just wasn’t good enough.” So there’s a compliment, Cas. You should give yourself a bit more credit for what you’ve done. Now, what say we take the dog for a walk?’

      So we pulled on wellies and walked way beyond the top of the paddock and up the steep slope behind it so we could look down on Deer’s Leap and the space beyond, and I stored a picture of it in my mind in case I never stood there again.

      ‘I rather wish I’d been with you today, Jeannie.’ I pulled a stem of long grass, then nibbled the soft white end of it. ‘Just talking about it makes me realize there’s more to a novel than sitting at home writing it.’

      ‘Couldn’t agree more. What it boils down to, though, is selling books. Readers like meeting authors and Susanna seemed to enjoy herself today. I wish you could have seen her house, Cassie. Just to think of what royalties can buy would make you want to work like a dog.’

      ‘I’m looking forward to reading her book. I’m curious about the storyline.’

      ‘Then take my advice and do no such thing! Don’t get another author’s book into your head whilst you’re writing one of your own! Put it in a drawer, then read it when you’ve finished Firedance. Susanna told us she allowed herself little treats for working extra hard. She said she once gobbled five After Eights, one after the other, as a reward for finishing a chapter that had taken ages to get right. It made her seem very ordinary and human.’

      ‘She’s made an impression on you, hasn’t she, Jeannie?’

      ‘Mm. Pity I can’t write. I wouldn’t mind ending up like her.’

      ‘Filthy rich?’

      ‘Y-yes. But more the way she looks and is. She’s obviously getting on, but it doesn’t show somehow.’

      We had reached the top of the rise now, and stood without speaking, to stare. The sun was beginning to go down and there was a hint of chill in the air. It made me remember that in a week it would be September, with autumn not so far away.

      ‘Have you taken in all you want of the view?’ Jeannie teased. ‘Because I think we should start back. It’s turned quite cold.’

      ‘Yes, but I’ll come here again with a camera.’

      Not that I would need reminding of that one summer at Deer’s Leap. I would always remember it, and wonder who was living there, and worry too about Jack Hunter and that I hadn’t been able to help him find Suzie. How long would he wait at that gate for her? Into forever? СКАЧАТЬ