Dodie Smith - I Capture the Castle

anything old.

"Oh, I don't get a kick out of this place because it's old," he said.

"It's just that I keep thinking it must have been a hell of a lot of fun."

Once we were round on the Belmotte stretch of the moat it was very

dark, because the moon wasn't high enough to shine over the house.

Suddenly something white loomed ahead of us and there was a hiss and a beating of wings--we had collided with the sleeping swans. Neil

enjoyed that, and I laughed myself but I was really quite frightened; swans can be very dangerous. Luckily ours bore no malice--they just

got out of our way and flapped into the bulrushes.

Soon after that, we swam under the Belmotte bridge and round into the moonlight again, on the south side of the moat.

There are no ruins there, the garden comes right down to the water; the big bed of white stocks smelt heavenly. It occurred to me that never

before had I seen flowers growing above my head, so that I saw the

stalks first and only the underneath of the flowers- it was quite nice change.

I was tired by then so I floated and Neil did too; it was lovely just drifting along, staring up at the stars. That was when we first heard the Vicar at the piano, playing "Air from Handel's Water Music," one of his nicest pieces--I guessed he had chosen it to suit our swim, which I took very kindly. It came to us softly but clearly; I wished I could

have floated on for hours listening to it, but I soon felt cold and had to swim fast again.

"There, we've made the complete circuit," I told Neil as we reached the plank bridge.

"I'll have to rest now."

He helped me out and we climbed over the ruins and sat down with our

backs against the kitchen wall; the sun had been shining on it all day and the bricks were still warm. We were in full moonlight.

Neil had patches of brilliant green duck-weed on his head and one

shoulder; he looked wonderful.

I felt that what with the moonlight, the music, the scent of the stocks and having swum round a six-hundred-year-old moat, romance was getting a really splendid leg-up and it seemed an awful waste that we weren't in love with each other--I wondered if I ought to have got Rose and

Simon to swim the moat instead of us.

But I finally decided that cold water is definitely anti-affection,

because when Neil did eventually put his arm round me it wasn't half so exciting as when he held my hand under the warm car-rug after the

picnic, it might have improved, I suppose, but the next minute I heard Topaz calling me--I couldn't tell where she was until Thomas signaled with his lantern from the Belmotte bridge. Then Father shouted that

they were taking Mrs. Cotton and the Vicar over to look at the mound

and Belmotte Tower.

"Mind you don't catch a chill," Topaz warned me.

Neil called: "I'll send her in now, Mrs.

Mortmain."

"But I'm not cold," I said quickly- I was afraid Rose hadn't had long enough.

"Yes, you are, you're beginning to shiver- so am I."

He took his arm from my shoulders.

"Come on, where do we find towels?"

Never has such an innocent question so kicked me in the solar plexus.

Towels! We have so few that on wash days we just have to shake

ourselves.

"Oh, I'll get you one," I said airily; then picked my way across the ruins very slowly, so as to give myself time to think.

I knew we had two pink guest-towels in the bathroom--that is, they were meant as guest-towels; they were really two afternoon-tea napkins,

kindly lent by Miss Marcy. Could I offer those to a large wet man his I could not. Then an idea came to me.

When we reached the back door I said: "Come in here, will you?

It'll be warm by the kitchen fire. I'll bring a towel down."

"But my clothes are in the bathroom-was Neil began.

I ran off calling over my shoulder: "I'll bring those, too."

I had decided to get my own towel or Rose's -whichever proved to be the drier- and fold it like a clean towel; then go back to Neil with it

clutched against me and apologize for having made it a bit damp. There would still be no need to disturb Rose's tete a tete with Simon,

because both towels were on our bedroom tower staircase-I had thrown

them out there while tidying the house for the Cottons- and I could

reach them through the drawing-room entrance to the tower. I meant to dress like lightning while Neil was dressing and then get back to the kitchen and keep him talking there a good while longer.

I got the drawing-room door to the tower open very quietly and started up. After I turned the bend I was almost in darkness so I went on all fours, feeling my way carefully.

There was an awkward moment when I got tied up in Rose's pink dress,

but once clear of that I saw the line of light under the door to our

bedroom. I knew the towels were only a few steps higher than that, so I stretched up and felt for them.

And then, through the door, I heard Simon say:

"Rose, will you marry me ?"

I stood stock still, scarcely daring to move in case they heard me.

Of course I expected Rose to say "Yes" instantly, but she didn't.

There was an absolute silence for a good ten seconds. Then she said,

very quietly but very distinctly:

"Kiss me, please, Simon."

There was another silence; a long one--I had time to think I wouldn't like my first kiss to be from a man with a beard, to wonder if Neil

would have kissed me if Topaz hadn't shouted to me, and to notice that a very cold draught was blowing down the tower on me. Then Rose spoke-with that excited little break in her voice that I know so well.

"Yes, please, Simon," she said.

Then they were quiet again. I grabbed a towel- I could only find one-

and started my way down. Suddenly I stopped. Might it not be more

sensible to walk right in on them, just in case ..

. his I don't quite know what I meant by "just in case"--surely I didn't imagine Simon might change his mind his All I knew was that the sooner the engagement was official the better. I went back.

When I pushed the tower door open they were still standing in each

other's arms. Simon jerked his head round quickly, then smiled at

me.

I hope I smiled back. I hope I didn't look as flabbergasted as I felt.

Just for one second I didn't think it was Simon. His beard was gone.

He said: "Is it all right by you if Rose marries me?"

Then we were all talking at once. I hugged Rose and shook hands with

Simon.

"My child, you're like ice," he said as he let my hand go.

"Hurry up and change out of that swimsuit."

"I must take Neil a towel first," I said, "and his clothes, too." I started off to the bathroom for them.

"How do you like Simon without his beard?" Rose called after me. I knew I ought to have spoken about it before but I'd had an embarrassed feeling.

"Wonderful?" I shouted. But was it? Of course he looked years and years younger and I was astonished to see how handsome he was. But

there was something defenseless about his face, as if strength had gone out of it. Oh, his chin isn't weak --it wasn't anything like that. It was just that he had .. . a lost sort of look.

How on earth did Rose get him to shave, I wondered, as I collected

Neil's things. I guessed she had dared him to.

I must say I was astonished at him--it seemed so undignified, using

Father's shaving tackle and my little enamel basin. (but then, the

dignified, stately Simon seems to have vanished with the beard-I find it hard to believe now that I was ever even a little bit in awe of

him;

not that I think the change is merely due to the beard having gone, it is far more due to his being so much in love with Rose.) When I went