Nicola Upson - Angel with Two Faces

In the meantime, there was dinner in a strange house to get through. The first night of any social visit was always an ordeal for her, no matter how much she liked her hosts and, even though the Motleys were easy company, the prospect of meeting their father brought out a shyness of which no amount of fame could cure her. Resisting a second chocolate, she went upstairs to change and was dismayed to find that the two suitcases which she had packed for every occasion now seemed to contain nothing remotely appropriate. Nerves made her impossible to please, and outfit after outfit was removed from its tissue paper and flung into the wardrobe with a contemptuous shake of the head. How formal would dinner be, she wondered, hesitating over a pale gold satin evening dress; then she remembered Ronnie’s casual instructions and picked up something less showy instead. In the end, annoyed with herself for making such an issue of it, she settled for a compromise, put on a blue silk trouser suit, which she hoped would impress the girls with its daring, and left the house before she could change her mind and her clothes yet again.

The heat of the day had subsided, and a slight edge to the air reminded Josephine that summer was still in its infancy. She crossed the narrow gravel driveway which ran past the Lodge and walked down to the water’s edge, where a small wooden boathouse reminded her that there was good fishing to be had in the Loe if she found time. Once again, a nagging little voice with a definite Highland twang whispered the word ‘deadline’ in her ear, but she chose to ignore it; a rowing boat in the middle of the lake would make a very satisfactory study for the preliminary plotting, she decided in her own defence, and if she came home with a couple of trout for supper, no one could accuse her of idleness. From where she now stood, she could see that an odd sort of vessel was moored at the front of the boathouse. It was more a barge than a boat, about the length of a punt but slightly wider, with a flat bottom and a raised platform rather like a bier at its centre. It seemed half decorated for something: green ribbons hung from the stern, trailing down into the water. On the floor in the middle of the craft, tucked under the platform, were some candles and what looked like a pile of garlands, presumably waiting to be draped around the edge of the barge. She couldn’t begin to imagine what sort of occasion demanded such efforts, but Ronnie’s opinion of the decor was bound to be worth hearing.

She set off for Loe House, leaving the lake behind for a moment and skirting marshes and parkland before joining the main driveway through the estate. As she followed the road around to the left and towards a tiny bridge, she saw Archie in the distance, on his way over to meet her, and realised to her surprise that she was a little nervous of seeing him, too. It was over a year since they had spent any amount of time together – and that had been in the middle of a murder inquiry which affected them both deeply and which had led to recriminations on either side as harsh as they were honest. His recent letters had been warm and friendly, but the next couple of weeks would show to what extent the air really had been cleared between them. He waved when he saw her, and she waited on the bridge, glad of the chance to spend a few minutes alone with him before meeting the others. Dressed casually in a blazer and flannels, and already tanned from the early sun, he looked more relaxed than she had seen him since that first Highland summer, before the war made him disillusioned enough with life to give up on medicine and choose instead a career which demanded a less idealistic view of human nature.

There was no sign of cynicism now, though, as he lifted her off the ground, smiling broadly. ‘You look wonderful,’ he said, ‘and I’m glad to see you made it here in one piece. I had no doubts about the train, but your escort from Penzance worried me a little – she’s been known to take three days to find her way back to the house from there. Have you settled in all right?’

‘Yes, it’s lovely,’ Josephine said, giving him a hug. ‘But the flowers on the table were enough – you didn’t have to decorate a whole boat.’

Archie laughed. ‘So you’ve seen the ferry to Avalon already?’

She looked bewildered. ‘To where?’

‘Avalon – or at least our version of it.’ They sat down on the edge of the bridge for a moment, looking back towards the lake. ‘Did I tell you that lots of the towns and villages down here still celebrate their own feast week?’ Josephine nodded. ‘Well, ours is this week – the play at the Minack is part of it, but there’s also a cricket match on the Bar, a fair down on the beach, and various processions and blessings. The boat by the Lodge is for the final night. You see, the Loe was where Excalibur was thrown when Arthur died.’

She raised a doubtful eyebrow. ‘Oh yes – the Loe and a thousand other lakes. Don’t forget – I live next door to the Loch Ness Monster. You’re talking to an expert in legends for the gullible.’

‘Kings and oversized eels are hardly the same thing,’ he said, feigning offence. ‘And anyway, none of those other lakes has Tennyson on its side. It’s all in “The Passing of Arthur” – an old chapel near a dark stretch of land, with the ocean on one side and a great water on the other.’

‘Oh well, that’s different,’ said Josephine with good-natured sarcasm. ‘If it’s that specific, it must be true.’

‘Quite,’ said Archie, laughing. ‘So every year we cast a sword into the Loe from the bank outside the Lodge, and send Arthur – otherwise known as a chap from the village – on his last journey across the lake to the sea, accompanied by three lamenting queens.’

‘Let me guess – otherwise known as three girls from the local Co-operative stores,’ she said wryly. ‘What happens when they get to the other side – sorry, when they get to Avalon?’

‘They have a glass of cider and a sausage sandwich – made by the Snipe if she’s here – and that’s it for another year.’

Josephine was torn between amusement and scepticism. ‘Is it all as peculiar as it sounds?’

‘Surprisingly, no. It’s actually quite spectacular – they put candles round the edge of the boat, and if it’s a clear night with the moonlight shining on the water, it looks beautiful. The lamenting can get a bit out of hand, though,’ he admitted. ‘It depends what the Co-operative has to offer. But you’ll see for yourself on Thursday – it all goes on just below your window.’

‘It’s still going ahead, then? Even after the death here?’

‘Apparently so. William offered to call it off this year because he was afraid it might be in poor taste, but Harry’s sisters insisted on having it. It’s probably a good thing – the feast week tends to bring the whole community together, and from all the bickering I saw today we could do with a bit of that right now.’

Won over by his enthusiasm, Josephine said: ‘The Lodge is stunning, but you didn’t have to move out for me. You don’t get much time here, and I could have fallen in with the girls.’

‘You wouldn’t have had any peace, though, and I know you need to work. Anyway, the Lodge is special and I wanted you to have a chance to spend some time there. I don’t mind – I quite fancy a couple of weeks in the big house, seeing how the other half lives.’

‘Playing at Lord of the Manor? I didn’t know you were really in line for it.’

‘Ronnie told you that? Thank God the family had the sense to bow out gracefully. I could never see myself taking this lot on. William’s dedication to it is extraordinary, but I don’t know where he finds the patience. I used to think the challenge of my job was dealing fairly with so many different people and trying to keep the peace in a community, but believe me – a day in Tottenham Court Road has nothing on this place. I wouldn’t last five minutes here before the temptation to bang their heads together got too much for me.’