Chapter Twenty Five
Caroline
Bath, Somerset
I heard the telephone ringing as I came to, finding myself stretched out on my bed where I imagined Cassy telling Jane all about the ball, as rapidly thrown into this century as I’d left it.
I couldn’t get Cassy out of my head; her feelings and emotions were so strong, like physical pangs every time she thought about Tom Fowle.
I felt so unlike myself, so absorbed by the life of Cassandra with all her cares and troubles that I could not snap myself out of the past immediately or from the feelings that reduced me to tears, wet on my face.
The ringing stopped for a moment, and as I gradually made sense of the modern world I found myself in, I caught the low tones of Mr Appleby’s voice.
‘Caroline,’ he called from the hall, ‘Harry is on the phone.’
I grabbed my dressing gown, and ran downstairs anticipating the sound of his voice, yet trying to work out why he was calling me just minutes before we were due to meet.
‘Hello, is everything okay?’
‘Caroline, I wish it were, but I’m afraid not. The truth is I’m phoning to cancel our evening … I’m so sorry.’
‘Has something happened?’
‘Yes, my uncle’s been taken ill again very suddenly, and I’ve had an urgent message from my mother. We’re taking the train tonight … I’ve got to leave in about five minutes.’
I was so disappointed, but I could hear how anxious Harry sounded, and I knew I shouldn’t be long on the phone. ‘Oh, I see … I understand. Just take care of yourself, won’t you, and your uncle, of course.’
‘I will, and listen, I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.’
We said our goodbyes, but I didn’t try and prolong the conversation. It was only afterwards I kept thinking of things I wished I’d said. The weeks stretched ahead, empty and lonely, it seemed so hard that we couldn’t have had just one more evening together.
Ellen and Roger were so kind, insisting that they take me out for the evening so I wouldn’t mope in my room.
We went back to the French restaurant we’d been to before, which brought back lots of lovely memories of the last time we were in Bath, though I couldn’t help wishing Harry was there.
We were sitting in the window, and as the light faded from the sky I watched couples sauntering back to their hotels, hand in hand, but no amount of wishing for Harry would make him appear like Captain Wentworth in Persuasion.
Jane Austen might be able to make that magic happen, but I knew Harry was sitting on a train heading in the opposite direction.
When we got back home, I thought I’d have an early night so I’d be fresh for the journey in the morning.
I couldn’t keep up the pretence of feeling happy for much longer, and I felt worn out with tiredness that seemed to settle round my shoulders like a heavy cloak.
I half thought I’d be whisked back in time as I stepped through the door, but I was glad to find out I was only going to be miserable on my own behalf.
I couldn’t help thinking about Cassy and her broken dreams, though I was too wrapped up in my own misery, coming to the depressing conclusion that in all likelihood what I had with Harry was never going to work long term.
I couldn’t even bring myself to read Jane’s journal, which I’d bought to read especially while I was in Bath, and feeling utterly miserable, I gave in to sleep at last.
***
I woke in the morning with the sinking feeling that always comes after a disappointing experience from the day before.
I hoped Harry had arrived safely at the castle, and that all was not as gloomy for his uncle’s health as it sounded.
I got up and dressed, wearily throwing clothes into my case with a sense of déjà vu.
When the telephone rang I hadn’t expected it would be for me, but when Ellen called upstairs to say Harry was ringing on a very bad line, I ran down as fast as I could, jumping the last few steps at the bottom.
‘Harry, I hope all is well,’ I called trying not to shout, aware that Ellen would be listening to my every word. I could hear how awful the line was because of the loud crackling noise in my ear.
‘Yes, it’s all good news … my uncle was in hospital, but is at home now. He had a nasty turn, but he’s on the mend. Elsa and I are doing the best we can … our mother couldn’t come this time because of work commitments, but there is a nurse here too, so we have some extra help.’
It was so good to hear his voice. I felt as if a hundred years had passed since our last conversation, even if it was only the previous evening.
‘Oh, I am glad to hear it. It’s lovely to hear from you.’
‘I couldn’t wait to phone you.’
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I tried not to let them get the better of me for fear of my voice breaking and giving me away. I cleared my throat.
‘How long will you be in Wales, do you think?’
‘For the rest of the week, I’m certain, if not longer. Listen, I haven’t much time.’
‘Oh, I understand … I’ll say goodbye now.’
‘No, no, don’t go, just listen. Do you think you could get the five-thirty train from Bath to Newport, change there at Carmarthen, and then go on to Manorbier by yourself?’
The line was crackling so much I couldn’t hear him properly, and even when I thought I’d heard correctly I was sure I was mistaken.
‘What are you saying, Harry? I can’t hear you very well.’
‘Would you like to join me … well, Elsa and me at my uncle’s castle?’
‘I’d be in the way, surely. I don’t want to intrude.’
‘No, my uncle has invited you … he wants to meet you. This place is vast enough to have a dozen people here and you wouldn’t notice. Please say you’ll come.’
‘Oh, Harry, if you’re certain, I’d love nothing more.’
‘I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve booked your ticket on the five-thirty from the station at Bath. I couldn’t get anything earlier. You won’t get here until very late, but I’m longing to see you. I’ll send a car to pick you up at Manorbier.’
And then the line went dead. I waited to see if Harry would phone back, but as nothing happened I came to the conclusion that he’d probably tried but the faulty line meant he couldn’t get through.
Ellen emerged from the reception room, just to the side of the hall where the telephone was kept, beaming from ear to ear. She’d obviously caught the gist of our conversation.
‘Roger will drop you off at the station. What you must do first is telephone your mother. Oh, how romantic … the heroine dashing off to meet her lover in a castle in Manorbier.’
I had to smile, and inside my spirits were dancing, as Jane might say.
***
The weather was closing in with rolling grey clouds before we got to the station, and it was pouring with rain as the Applebys dropped me off and said their goodbyes, so I was half drowned by the time I reached the ticket office.
But, there was such a kind attendant who went through the journey with me, making sure I had all my tickets so I knew where I was going.
I didn’t have long to wait before the train arrived, and though it was rush hour I still managed to find my seat.
I got a magazine out of my bag to read on the journey, but I was so excited to watch the scenery passing by as we set off, I didn’t give it a glance.
Even though the rain and wind were blustering and wet, dashing against the glass of the steamed up windows, bending the trees into contorted shapes, the feeling of happiness warmed my insides, spreading with rosy pleasure inside at the thought of the adventure I was about to undertake.
I only had fifteen minutes at Newport to find the platform and get on the train, and though I hadn’t thought about it before, I’d started to feel hungry.
There was nothing I could do, there wasn’t time to get off and find something in a station buffet so I sat and looked out at the rain while my tummy rumbled.
I saw a schoolboy in the seat opposite rummage in his satchel, producing a greaseproof paper parcel from which he took a buttered scone studded with juicy raisins. I couldn’t watch.
The train set off again, and I tried not to think about how hungry I was going to be by the time I reached Carmarthen.
Perhaps I’d be able to get something there, though I knew there was only ten minutes to spare before I got my next train.
The ticket inspector was coming down the carriage, and I fumbled for my ticket.
‘Miss Caroline Heath?’ he asked, and when I nodded in shock, wondering if I was in trouble, he said I was to go along to the restaurant car where my dinner would be served.
I couldn’t quite believe it until I was sitting down in the first class carriage reserved for diners, with a whole two hours stretching ahead.
The table was laid with a snowy cloth, and a silver vase of freesias - I’d never felt so important, and I knew Harry must have arranged it all.
After a piece of buttered sole, new potatoes and peas, followed by gooseberry fool, I felt ready for anything, and even when the next train was late for Manorbier nothing could dim the fun I was having.
It was getting dark, and with just another hour to go I was beginning to feel sleepy.
I’d thought the weather might cheer up, but it persisted in being miserable, in complete contrast to myself.
By the time we pulled into Manorbier the rain was coming down in sheets, but I thought it was the most beautiful rain I’d ever seen and like Welsh water was soft and quite delicious as I licked my lips.