Elizabeth Elgin - The Linden Walk

For Ian Sommerville, friend and editor

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Dear Reader

Map

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

About the Author

By the Same Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

Dear Reader,

You don’t need to have read the previous four ‘Sutton books’ to enjoy this book. The Linden Walk is a novel in its own right, though you might be forgiven for calling it an indulgence on my part because I too wanted to know what finally happened to the Clan, those six younglings who grew to maturity during the long years of the Second World War: Tatiana and Andrew, the Kentucky cousins Sebastian and Kathryn – we knew them as Tatty, Drew, Bas and Kitty – and Daisy and Keth, of course.

There were things to be explained, too, loose ends to be tied. Would Drew love again after losing Kitty? Would Keth return to France to find the grave of the young girl shot whilst helping him to reach safety in England? Would Tatty ever meet the half-brother – or sister – she knew to exist?

I have untangled these mysteries and, in doing so, have had the joy of creating a new Clan who will know the delights of growing up at Rowangarth as their parents did, and running free as my first Clan, whilst the sombre and empty Pendenys Place moulders away, unwanted and unloved.

I hope you will enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it for you.

Love,

Elizabeth.

September, 1948

‘Well, that’s the christening over and everyone gone but me.’ Lyndis Carmichael got to her feet. ‘Care to walk me home, Drew?’

‘I seem to remember,’ he said softly, ‘you asking me that once before.’

‘Yes. Before …’

‘Before Kitty,’ Drew Sutton supplied, gravely.

‘Mm. I asked this sailor to see me back to Wrens’ Quarters. We’d never dated before – not him and me alone, exactly. Usually his sister was there, too.’

‘But that night?’ he prompted.

‘That night, Wren Carmichael made a complete fool of herself. She asked that sailor if he would kiss her goodnight – as in properly, and not the usual brotherly peck on the cheek. And when he did, that stupid Wren offered her virginity on a plate; told the sailor she was in love with him. Best forgotten, wouldn’t you say?’

‘But I just remembered it!’

‘Well, so now I’m remembering you once told me about this Linden Walk and the seat on it and the scent of linden blossom. I asked if I would ever get to smell the blossom and you said if I was a good little Wren, I might. But good little Wrens didn’t have a lot of fun, did they? Still, I’ve got to see your Linden Walk at last, though I can’t smell anything.’

‘You’re too late. The trees flower in summer.’

‘Ha! The story of my life! Not only do I miss the blossom, but when I eventually get to sit with you beneath your trees, all I get for my pains is a frozen behind. That seat is hard and cold!’

‘I’m sorry. So which way shall we go – the long way round or the short cut through the wood?’

‘Whichever,’ Lyn shrugged, hugging herself tightly because not only was she cold but she was shaking inside. And that was because if something didn’t happen tonight to clear the air, she was packing up and going to Kenya. Too damn right she was!

‘What is it, Lyn?’ He took her arm, guiding her towards the stile at the near end of Brattocks Wood. ‘I watched you in church today. You looked so sad. Want to tell me about it?’

She remained silent for all that, because they were passing Keeper’s Cottage. She had stayed there often with Daisy, her friend, fellow-Wren, and Drew’s half-sister, but in another life, it seemed.

‘What’s wrong? We’re old friends – we get on fine, you and I.’

‘Oh sure, Drew. And every time I come to stay with Daisy and Keth, you and I meet and chat like old friends and you kiss me goodnight as friends do – a brotherly peck, like always. Friends! That’s all you and I will ever be!’

She walked ahead, shoulders stiff, and because the moss at the side of the path was damp with dew, she slipped and would have lost her footing had not Drew grasped her elbow, and steadied her.

‘Careful.’ He was still holding her. ‘I’m sorry the way you feel about you and me. Can’t you tell me?’

‘About why I looked sad in church? Hadn’t thought it showed but yes, I was sad – or maybe it was self-pity. That baby is so beautiful I wanted one of my own. I envied Daisy and Keth; wanted to conceive a child, you see, with a man I loved. I wanted all the morning sickness and the pain of heaving and shoving that baby into the world! And every time Daisy puts Mary to her breast I go cold, I’m so jealous! That’s what I’ve become. An untouched, unloved woman who aches for a child!’

Unspeaking, he let go of her arm and there was such a silence between them that she could hear the thudding of her heart and the harshness of her breathing. Above them, a cloud shut out the last of the sun and a flock of birds wheeled overhead, cawing loudly as they settled to roost.

‘Rooks!’ she murmured. ‘Daisy tells them things, doesn’t she, and her mother, too. Rooks keep secrets, I believe, so how if I tell them one? Want to hear it, Drew Sutton?’

She walked towards the elm trees, heels slamming, not caring about the slippery path. Then she stood feet apart, hands on hips, looking up into the green darkness.

‘Hey, you lot! You listen to things, don’t you? Then get an earful of this and hear it good, because I’ll not be passing this way again! I’m leaving. Off to Kenya to Auntie Blod because I can’t take any more!’ She sucked in a deep breath, holding it, letting it go noisily, but it did nothing to calm her.

‘There’s this man I fell for – a real hook, line, and sinker job – first time we met. I thought he might have had feelings for me, as well, so what d’you know, rooks? I offered it with no strings attached – except that perhaps he might have said he loved me, too. But he didn’t say it because he knew I wasn’t his grand passion. He met her not long after, his cousin from Kentucky and you can’t blame him for the way he fell for her. He’d loved her all his life, only he hadn’t realized it!’

She stopped, shaking with anger and despair, and her words swirled around her and spiralled up to where the rooks roosted. And she covered her face with her hands and leaned against the trunk of the tallest tree, because all at once she felt weary and drained. The tears came then; straight from the deeps of her heart and they caught in her throat and turned into sobs that shook her body.

‘Don’t cry, Lyn. Please don’t cry.’

He reached for her and because she did not turn from his touch he took her in his arms, cupping her head with his hand so her cheek rested on his chest. ‘Ssh. It’s all right. Let it come …’

‘Drew, I’m s-sorry. That was bloody awful of me.’

‘It wasn’t. But if it was, I deserved it.’