Chapter 12 #2
‘In my experience memories do travel,’ Jules said softly.
‘But would they be so difficult if we were in a different location?’ he asked, his blue eyes suddenly and disconcertingly locking on to hers.
‘My father died when I was fourteen,’ she began falteringly. It was still difficult to say those words, to accept them, to comprehend the enormity of them and the way the experience had shaped her.
‘I left home at eighteen and moved away so that I wouldn’t see his face every time I walked past his favourite ironmonger’s shop or garden centre or the pub we used to go to for Sunday lunch sometimes.
I thought that by doing that I would lessen the pain.
’ She shook her head. ‘But then I felt guilt for running away from the places he loved.’ She studied her nails which had always been disappointingly stubby.
‘There are no easy answers. You have to do what’s right for you. ’
He drained his cup.
‘Which is why I always go and have a walk around the ramparts, look at the views, try to gain some perspective. Care to join me?’
She looked at his careworn face and had the urge to stroke his cheek. He’d been through a lot.
‘No, but thank you for the offer. I’m going to take a look at the chapel first.’
She glanced up at the ramparts. They looked pretty high in places and quite narrow.
‘Are you sure you should be going up there when you’ve had a knock on the head?’
‘They’re not as high as they look and there are railings.’
She brushed her hair away from her face.
‘The wind is getting up. I bet it’s blustery up there.’
‘It can be, but I like that. It blows all of your cares away.’
If only it were that simple, she thought.
‘There are fantastic views, too.’
She really had wanted some time on her own, but what sort of a nurse would she be if she let him go up there on his own and then he had a dizzy spell and…? She stood up and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes so he couldn’t see her reluctance.
‘Okay, you’ve convinced me. Lead the way.’
He was such a gentleman, she thought, when he turned to offer his hand as they climbed some steep and narrow steps.
She hesitated. Get a grip, Jules, she said to herself, it’s just a friendly gesture.
Nothing more. Besides, it’s more for his security than yours.
His palm was completely unlike Gavin’s, which was a relief.
It felt slightly rough and his fingers were long and wrapped all the way around her hand.
Gavin’s hand had been small and even softer than her own.
He’d gone for manicures every month, so his nails were shiny, his cuticles springy.
Jules would bet her life on the fact that Lance had never had a manicure.
‘Look at that,’ he said, as they reached the top and he waved his free arm towards the distance. ‘Isn’t that beautiful? This island really gets under your skin. You can see almost all of it in every direction from up here.’
She was acutely aware of her hand still encompassed within his even though there really was no need now, not that there had been before, she thought. Although it was nice to feel that warmth and be physically connected to someone.
‘The castle dates back to Anglo-Saxon times, but the Romans may have been here as well,’ he said.
‘In the thirteenth century it was owned by someone called Countess Isabella de Fortibus who was one of the richest women in England. On her deathbed and as all of her six children had pre-deceased her, she sold the castle to Edward I. I suppose it’s most famous because Charles I was held prisoner here before his execution in 1649, and then much later Princess Beatrice, who was Queen Victoria’s fifth daughter, made it her home.
Sorry, I’m probably boring you to tears. ’
‘You’re not. It’s fascinating and you’re a good tour guide,’ she replied as they made their way around the top of the walls.
‘Look, there are the girls,’ he said, getting too close to the edge for Jules’s comfort and waving. ‘They haven’t seen us.’
‘They look happy.’
‘At the moment,’ he said with a smile. ‘When you’re fourteen, one minute you’re happy and the next the world feels as if it’s about to end.’
‘And that can just be because your favourite shirt’s in the wash,’ Jules joked.
‘Or your brother’s eaten the last piece of pizza,’ Lance chuckled in reply. ‘Talking of food, we have our picnic right over there in that corner where the cannon is.’
Suddenly he looked down at their clasped hands and gave an embarrassed laugh.
‘Thank you for keeping a hold of me.’
‘I didn’t want you falling off and squashing the flowers on that grassy bank,’ she quipped.
‘Or even worse, one of the donkeys,’ he replied.
‘Absolutely not.’
Slowly he unfurled his fingers.
‘I think I can make my way down these steps on my own.’
He let Jules go ahead.
‘You must want to have a wander,’ he said when they got to the bottom. He checked his phone. ‘I’ve got a couple of calls to make so we’ll meet up at one, shall we?’
She nodded and watched as he strode off. In her back pocket her phone buzzed, and she answered.
‘Where are you?’ Carrie asked.
‘At Carisbrooke Castle.’
‘Oh, nice. I’d have come with you if I’d known.’
‘I thought you were busy this morning and I sort of got railroaded into this.’
She explained what had happened.
‘Are you all right?’ Carrie asked. ‘Do you need me to come and rescue you?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ Jules replied.
And standing there, surrounded by these ancient walls which had seen almost everything, she realised that she was fine. Almost.
At one o’clock the girls were already lying stretched out, headphones in.
Erin had her eyes closed while Tasha stared at the bright blue sky.
Jules took off her cardigan, spread it out on the grass and sat down.
She watched people walking past, children laughing, pensioners ambling, young couples arm in arm.
What were their lives like, she wondered, behind the scenes, beyond the brief respite of a day out?
What joys and tragedies were they walking around with?
In the distance she could see Lance walking towards them purposefully.
He stopped briefly to talk to someone he obviously knew, adjusting the long strap of the cool bag on his shoulder, her basket held firmly in his other hand.
He threw back his head and laughed at something the woman had said.
How life enhancing, Jules thought, to bump into people you knew just on a random day out.
She was so busy rushing to work and back, often in the dark, that if she did see anyone familiar, she never had time to stop and chat.
‘Sorry,’ he said, when he finally reached them, ‘I got waylaid. Someone who did one of my courses a while back.’
Erin had opened her eyes and was sitting up.
‘Dad’s always being accosted by people who’ve been to The Pottery,’ she said, rolling her eyes, but with an unmistakable air of pride.
He opened a packet of pretzels and offered Jules one before tipping them into a bowl.
‘Prawn sandwich? Or ham and tomato?’
She took one of the prawn mayo ones and immediately thought it was a mistake. She was bound to spill some of the filling down her front.
‘And one of Erin’s sausage rolls,’ Tasha said, peeling back a foil parcel.
The pastry was still warm and very flaky – another potential for making a horrible mess.
Lance leaned back on his arms and stretched out his legs.
He was wearing shorts and his legs were lightly tanned.
Jules bit tentatively into the most delicious cherry tomato she thought she’d ever tasted outside the Mediterranean.
At least it didn’t squirt all over her top.
She’d forgotten how difficult picnics were to eat.
It wasn’t so bad if you were with people you knew, but when you were with strangers, well, the last thing you wanted was to end up splattered with food or, even worse, squirt them with food.
‘My mum likes a picnic,’ she said. ‘She’d be impressed with this.’
Erin looked pleased.
‘We saw you on the ramparts,’ she said, casting a sly glance at Tasha.
She’d obviously spotted that they’d been holding hands, Jules thought. Teenagers either missed the things you desperately wanted them to notice or instantly noticed the things you didn’t want them to.
‘We saw you near the donkeys,’ Jules said.
‘Juno didn’t want to turn the treadwheel today so they had to go and get Jack to show everyone how water can be brought up from the well,’ Tasha said with a laugh.
‘It’s like a big hamster wheel,’ Erin added. ‘It’s amazing. You ought to take a look.’
‘I will. I went around the chapel earlier and into Princess Beatrice’s gardens. Both are beautiful.’
‘Did you see the window where Charles I tried to escape?’ Tasha asked.
‘No,’ Jules said, impressed by the girl’s enthusiasm. ‘Not yet.’
‘We’ll show you later. He got stuck between the sill and an iron bar so had to abandon that attempt. He tried again later on even though he’d been moved to another room which was more difficult to escape from. You can see his room inside but it’s been altered a bit.’
‘Presumably that escape attempt failed as well?’ Jules said.
‘He was betrayed at the very last minute by two sentries. When he first came to the island it was meant to be a refuge, but it ended up turning into a prison, although he had a bowling green and a fair amount of freedom to begin with.’
‘How long was he here for?’
‘Fourteen months. You must go into the museum,’ Tasha said. ‘There’s loads more about it in there.’
‘I’m impressed,’ Jules said.
‘Granny says that history is important and if you don’t know where you’ve come from, how can you work out where you want to go,’ she replied, ‘or something like that.’
‘I can’t argue with that,’ Jules said, exchanging a glance with Lance.
‘Wise woman,’ he said, lying back on the rug and closing his eyes. ‘You’ll never win an argument with Rita or Tash so don’t even try.’
Erin put her EarPods back in and Tasha began writing in a little notebook she had fished out of her pocket. Jules felt herself starting to relax. After a few minutes she plucked her book out of the basket, turned on to her front and began to read.
Later they dropped Tasha off at the farm and Lance drove the car around to the cottage.
‘Thank you for a lovely day,’ she said as he got out to open the door for her. ‘I’ve really enjoyed it.’
‘You sound surprised.’
‘I am. Sorry, that sounds so ungracious. It’s not the company. I mean, it’s not your company.’
She was beginning to feel flustered.
‘It’s any company. I’m not good with strangers, not that you’re a stranger…’
She glanced at Erin sitting on the back seat listening to her music. The hole she was digging felt as if it was getting deeper with every word.
‘Jules, stop!’
She looked up at him, startled.
‘You don’t have to explain. When Sarah died, I didn’t want to go anywhere or see anyone. I understand.’
‘Except Gavin hasn’t died. At least I don’t think he has. I’m so, so sorry. Compared to what you’ve been through, my problems are insignificant.’
‘You’re still grieving, though, for someone you’ve lost.’
‘That’s true and I’m actually a bit angry too, which I suppose is a good sign.’ Her eyes flashed up at him. ‘People can be so disappointing, can’t they?’
‘It’s easy to think that, but there are good people, too.’
He’s a good person, she thought. That’s what she needed, to spend more time around good people.
‘Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?’
He shook his head.
‘I won’t if you don’t mind. We need to get back and prepare for class tomorrow and I have to call my in-laws and check Fitz is behaving himself.
‘And you don’t want to risk knocking yourself out on that lintel,’ she said.
‘That as well.’
‘Another time, maybe.’
He nodded, but moved away slightly as if not to seem too eager.
‘I’d like that. And Jules, thank you for coming. You have been perfect company. Teenage girls when they get together can be a bit…’ He shrugged. ‘It’s like a club I don’t belong to and will never have the key.’
Jules laughed. A proper laugh. Something she thought she might never be able to do again.
‘I totally get that.’
And he stood there watching as she walked up the path, placed her key in the lock and went into the house with a small final wave of her hand.