Holding On (31 page)

At the thought of Rex, downstairs in the dog basket in the kitchen, Jamie's whole inside turned over with excitement. He simply couldn't wait another minute. Carefully he pushed back the covers, carefully he turned round so as to climb down the ladder. As he reached the floor, Bess emerged from her blankets and stared out at him.

‘It's morning,' he said quickly, almost defensively. ‘It's been snowing and everything's gone white. Look.'

He ran to the window, dragging back the curtains, showing the snow piled up on the windowsill obscuring most of the glass. Bess sat up quickly, trying to see out and shivering.

‘Gosh, it's cold.'

‘It must be morning,' he told her. ‘You see, it's quite light. I'm going down to see Rex.'

‘Rex.' They gazed at each other, relishing the treat in store. ‘Put your dressing gown on,' she said. ‘Where are your slippers?'

‘I can't find them,' he said, going down on his hands and knees, peering under the chair, his dressing gown flapping round him. ‘I don't care. It's not that cold.'

She kneeled up, making big eyes, pursing her lips. ‘Go downstairs in bare feet?' she exclaimed in her ‘Ellen' voice. ‘Whatever next, I wonder.'

They shouted it together – but quietly – so as not to wake Mummy across the passage, and Bess dragged out the slippers which had been kicked under the bed. Slippers on, dressing gowns bundled round them, they went out quietly and crept downstairs together.

 

‘Thank goodness for the Aga,' said Caroline as she and Fliss washed up the breakfast things together. ‘The electricity was off when I came down so there must have been a power cut in the night. Telephone's OK.'

‘I'll have to try to get back,' said Fliss. ‘It's times like these when I wish that the twinnies were still really small. It was so nice not having to bother about school. They're having such fun out there with Hal and Rex.'

‘I must say that it'll be wonderful to have a dog again.' Caroline tipped the water out of the bowl and wiped it round. ‘I still miss them. Silly, isn't it?'

‘Not really.' Fliss hung the tea cloth to dry over the Aga rail. ‘Even now, it seems really odd to go for a walk all by myself, I'd got so used toto having the twinnies along all the time. Yet I used to walk alone an awful lot when I was first married. Remember when I used to come up on the riverboat from Dartmouth and you'd meet me in Totnes for a quick cup of coffee or some tea, depending on the tides?'

Caroline shook her head. ‘How long ago it seems. Of course, Ellen was still here, then, so I could snatch a few hours.'

‘Ten years ago,' mused Fliss. ‘What an amazing thought. Do I hear voices? Let's get the kettle on. They'll be freezing.'

The twinnies looked anything but freezing; their cheeks were poppy red, eyes sparkling.

‘Rex slid on the ice and Hal threw a snowball at him,' they chorused, ‘and Rex tried to catch it and eat it. Hal says there's an old sledge somewhere that Fox made for Uncle John and Grandfather.'

Fliss thought: How odd it is to hear them call Daddy ‘Grandfather'. Oh, if only he could see them . . .

Hal was smiling at her across the kitchen. His thick fair hair was crushed beneath an old moleskin cap and his jersey was covered with lumps of icy snow which were now beginning to melt. She felt that he had guessed her thoughts and she smiled back at him, feeling a wealth of kinship and affection flowing between them.

‘How is it in the lane?' she asked him. ‘I suppose we have to fight our way back home?'

‘I shall certainly have to,' he answered, casting the cap on to the table. ‘I'm in the middle of writing a paper which I left up at Greenwich. It's a project which I have to get in this week. Never mind. It's really not too bad at all out there. A tractor's been along and I'm sure the main roads will be cleared. It looks worse than it is because it's drifted from the north-east. It'll be good out on the hill, though, especially if we can find that sledge.'

The twins flung themselves upon him, begging him to search for the sledge, pleading with him not to go back.

‘What!' he cried dramatically. ‘Would you keep me from my duty? Down, down, I say!'

Rex began to bark, jumping up at them, tail wagging furiously.

‘Down! All of you!' cried Caroline. ‘Let's have some organisation here. First of all, Hal, when will you go?'

‘After lunch.' He sat down at the table, allowing the twinnies to climb on to him, one on each knee. ‘That should give us plenty of time to find the sledge and have a few runs.'

‘We'll go about the same time,' said Fliss. ‘I'd like to be home before it starts to freeze, and if you're sure the roads will be clear . . .?'

‘We shall drive in tandem.' Hal joggled his Jamie knee up and down, seeing Jamie's long face, guessing at his disappointment. ‘It'll probably be even worse further upcountry. Schools closed for weeks and so on.'

Jamie looked up at him, hope rising, cheerfulness restored, and Hal gave him a little private wink. He grinned back and then slid down and went to crouch by Rex who had been coaxed by Caroline into the dog basket and was now drying off on the big tartan rug. He licked Jamie's cheek and sighed contentedly as Jamie sat beside him, stroking his ears. Rex dropped his big head across the boy's knees and relaxed.

‘Mrs Pooter, Mugwump, Perks and now Rex,' murmured Jamie, so that the dog might feel his special place in the natural order of things.

‘Your boys are going to miss him,' said Caroline, making coffee whilst Fliss poured milk for the twins.

‘Possibly.' Hal's face closed, precluding any discussion. He'd explained it all last night and he didn't want to think about it again. Time enough for that when he started the long drive home. ‘They'll see him when they come down to visit.'

Caroline opened her mouth to say that, in that case, it might be some time before Jolyon and Edward saw Rex, and shut it again. She could see that she'd already been quite tactless enough. Her eyes met Fliss's and a tiny message passed between them. Something was not right with Hal and Maria – and it wasn't just Rex – but it was clear that Hal had no intention of discussing it. She put the mugs down on the table and Jamie carefully lifted Rex's head aside and scrambled out of the dog basket.

‘What about the sledge?' he asked hopefully, lest it might get forgotten.

‘In the workshop,' said Caroline, passing Hal the sugar. ‘Hanging up on the wall. I can't remember when it was last used but Fox would have put it away in good condition.'

‘Dear old boy,' said Hal. ‘How I miss him.'

‘Oh, don't,' said Fliss quickly. ‘Not . . . not now.'

There was a silence whilst the three adults thought of the elderly woman upstairs. The twinnies finished their milk and looked round at them, surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere. Hal smiled at them reassuringly.

‘No, no time now for reminiscing,' he said, ‘not if we want to find that sledge. Who's coming with me? OK. Sledge-finding party, muster at the back door in three minutes. Full outdoor rig.'

Jamie, hesitating at the kitchen door and looking back, saw a similar expression on Hal's face to that of Uncle Theo's looking at Great-grandmother – but Hal was looking at Mummy. Jamie struggled briefly with his confused ideas, remembered the sledge and hurried after Bess to find his gumboots.

Although they'd been living in South Hill Park now for nearly three years, Kit still experienced a little thrill of pleasure at the thought of being a resident of Hampstead, delighting in being familiar with its lanes and squares and alleys, enjoying the freedom of the Heath itself and even the busy excitement of the Lower Fair on Bank Holidays.

This morning, looking out from her bedroom window, she saw that the pond was frozen over, the ducks crouching disconsolately on its banks; the trees on the heath beyond were lightly dusted with snow, their bare branches gleaming whitely in the morning sunshine. Kit glanced at her watch, wondering if Sin would be around after her late night out, deciding that she wouldn't. It was not much after ten o'clock and it was unlikely that, on a Sunday morning, she would surface much before midday. Kit wondered whether she, too, might be able to go back to sleep but decided that she was not in the mood. She felt quite wide-awake, rather restless, on the edge of a Sunday depression, but she already knew what she would do. She would go up to the top flat and talk to Clarrie whilst he pottered in his eyrie which smelled so deliciously of pipe tobacco and coffee. He was always ready for a good gossip and they would laugh together about ‘the memsahib', his cousin Andrew's domineering wife, who lived in Wiltshire, ran a donkey sanctuary and rarely had the time to come up to town.

Andrew owned the tall house in South Hill Park, keeping the ground-floor flat for himself and any member of his family who might be passing through or need a bolthole. He was a passionate lover of opera, and came up to town regularly to sit on the four different boards of which he was a director. Clarence was his second cousin and was almost ten years older than Andrew. It was through Clarrie that they'd heard of the flat three years before . . .

 

Kit had come home one spring evening to find Sin in the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine which she brandished at Kit triumphantly.

‘Behold,' she cried, ‘I bring you tidings of great joy.'

‘Oh yes?' said Kit wearily, who'd had a difficult day with a client who wished her to find paintings for his new fifteen-bedroom hotel. ‘Don't tell me. We've won the pools. I'm perfectly prepared to share it fairly down the middle with you as long as it's not less than a tenner. Do we
do
the pools?'

‘Certainly not,' said Sin, pouring wine, ‘and do try to raise your mind above the sordid subject of money. What have we been saying to each other this last few months? What do we long for more than anything else in the world?'

Kit yawned widely, frowned deeply and took the proffered glass.

‘A part in Robert Redford's new film?' she suggested. ‘A cook? A new electric blanket? Give me a clue.'

‘I can see that you are in one of your tiresome moods,' said Sin severely. ‘Have we not agreed that we are bored and require pastures new? Have we not longed for change? What do you say to Hampstead?'

‘Is this a joke?' demanded Kit. ‘One of those knock, knock things? What do you say to an old boot? Put a sock in it and so on?'

‘Sit down,' said Sin, ‘and I will tell you all. That's it, there's your glass on the table. Now, are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin. You know Clarrie?'

Kit closed her eyes. ‘Possibly,' she murmured. ‘Probably. Animal, vegetable or mineral? Look, could we stop the twenty questions bit? Just tell me. Words of one syllable and keep your voice down. My head is splitting and I am nigh unto death.'

‘Clarrie is an accountant at the BM,' began Sin, ‘and he is an absolute sweetie. Cudgel the brain. You met him at a party and just loved him. Remember? He was in India in the war and then stayed on for a bit. His wife and child died out there so he came back and got the job at the British Museum and moved into a flat in a house in Hampstead that belongs to his family. It actually overlooks the heath – from the back, anyway. They keep the ground floor for themselves and Clarrie's up on the top floor. Follow me so far?' Kit nodded, eyes still closed. ‘Now pin back your ears. Clarrie is retiring next week and we were having a farewell lunchtime drink together yesterday and he told me that the nice big first-floor flat is up for grabs for the first time for hundreds of years.'

She paused and after a moment Kit cautiously opened her eyes. ‘Are we at the good bit yet?' she asked. ‘I mean is that it?'

‘You're being deliberately difficult,' Sin said crossly. ‘Haven't we always talked about living in Hampstead? Walking on the heath and going to the fair, and hobnobbing in the lovely pubs and things?'

‘Certainly we have. We have also talked about meeting Paul Newman unexpectedly in Harvey Nicks and having him fall suddenly and passionately in love with us,' observed Kit. ‘I should think the odds are about the same. Have you any idea what the rents must be like in Hampstead, especially for nice big first-floor flats that overlook the heath?'

‘Aha!' said Sin excitedly. ‘A
ha
!'

‘Oh God.' Kit closed her eyes again. ‘You're sounding just like Rabbit when he was planning to kidnap Roo. It all ended in tears if I remember rightly.'

‘Just shut up.' Sin swallowed back her wine and set her glass down with a click. Kit winced and sighed heavily. ‘The thing is that his cousin prefers to let the flat to people he knows, friend-of-a-friend stuff. See? Apparently he might be prepared to adjust the rent if the prospective tenant is someone with whom he feels he would like to share his house but can't quite stretch the budget. Now Clarrie thinks that two charming, quietly behaved, respectable, attractive women would be considered very suitable.'

‘So do I,' said Kit, levering herself up a little and reaching for her glass. ‘Very suitable. Where does he hope to find such paragons of virtue?'

‘You're impossible,' said Sin despairingly. ‘And I thought you'd be so pleased. You've been miserable for weeks. Ever since . . . Christmas. And I thought you'd be really thrilled . . .'

‘Look,' said Kit, pulling herself together, ‘I know I've been hell since Jake went – oh yes, let's be honest about it, none of this since Christmas stuff – but do you honestly think we can afford Hampstead?'