Harriet Evans - Love Always

Cecily paused at the door. ‘Is it?’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t know that it is.’

Frances watched her daughter go. She didn’t know why, but she knew that Cecily had grown up in some way, that the lanky-legged teenager who ran ahead of the others down to the beach, chattering nine to the dozen, had gone for ever.

Chapter Twenty

‘What’s for lunch?’

‘I don’t know.’ Louisa stretched out on the grass. ‘You’re so greedy, Jeremy. It’s too hot to think about that now.’ She turned on her side. ‘Do you know where Miranda and Archie went?’

‘Think they’ve gone off round the cliffs.’

‘They might bump into Guy,’ Louisa said. ‘Gosh, everyone’s in a bad mood today.’ She rol ed her head from side to side. ‘I’m starting to look forward to leaving, you know. Like I’l be glad to get away from here.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ Jeremy said uneasily. ‘Don’t see why.’

Louisa glared at him. ‘You’re the one who said you didn’t like it down here, before the Leightons arrived.’ She chewed a nail. ‘It’s – I don’t know. How’s it ever going to be right again after what Archie did?’ she said pragmatical y. ‘I mean, he could go to prison. And Miranda – what she said to Daddy, I can’t believe she hasn’t been punished for it!’

‘I think Franty and Arvind aren’t such sticklers for dis cipline,’ Jeremy said diplomatical y.

‘Wel , and look where it’s got them,’ Louisa said tartly, but lowering her voice. She looked at her brother. ‘Don’t you think Miranda went too far?

I mean, I think she was awful, and no one’s real y done anything about it.’

‘Er –’ Jeremy said. ‘I think she was a bit rude. But – wel , I think she meant, wel , what she was saying. P’rhaps she didn’t quite say it right.’ He plucked at the lawn. ‘Dad’s a bit outmoded. He doesn’t understand the way things are these days. Or the way things are going, if that makes sense.’

‘I know,’ Louisa said. ‘I mean, we’ve got Indian cousins, we know what it’s like.’

‘Er –’ Jeremy said again. ‘I suppose so . . .’ He looked at his sister. ‘I’m just suspicious of Miranda’s motives, that’s al . Think she had a point to prove rather than moral outrage.’

‘Wel , that’s Miranda, isn’t it?’ Louisa said lightly. She leaned her head back, face held up to the sky. ‘It’s so humid, I can’t even see the sun.

She’s an awful drama queen. And she’s been so much worse, the last few days.’

‘It’s true.’ Jeremy rol ed over. ‘It’s al rather . . .’ His shoulders slumped. ‘I’m a bit tired of her and Archie, to be perfectly honest. Al that sneaking around together and whispering. Odd behaviour. What Guy and Frank make of it al I don’t know. Old Frank’s a sound chap though,’ he added reassuringly.

‘Ye-es.’ Louisa spoke slowly. ‘Yes, he is.’

She didn’t sound overwhelmingly sure and Jeremy was not the type to pry. He was silent, and a few seconds later Louisa said, ‘He’s asked me to marry him.’

‘My goodness!’ Jeremy said. He stood up. ‘Louisa, old girl, that’s wonderful news! Where is he?’ He looked around. ‘I say—!’

Louisa sat up and pul ed him back down. ‘Oh, sit down, Jeremy, you big fool! Shut up a second!’ She gripped his arm. ‘I said no.’

‘What?’ Jeremy’s mouth dropped open, and he appeared lost for the right thing to say. ‘You said no to Frank? Thought you were keen on him.’

‘Yes,’ Louisa said. ‘I was surprised, too. But—’ She rol ed onto her stomach and stared at the grass. ‘I just don’t know if that’s what I want.’

They were both silent for a moment. ‘Real y?’ Jeremy said. ‘Old Frank?’

‘Frank, yes – wel , no—’ Louisa shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He’s been different, these holidays, rather off. But I do think I love him, I suppose. Before they came here, I was so sure.’ She looked at Jeremy, her huge blue eyes wide open. ‘I thought we had an unspoken sort of agreement, that we were to be engaged, even if it wasn’t talked about. And now – I just don’t know any more.’

‘Why?’ Jeremy asked softly. ‘Something Miranda said, if you can believe that. About women, about us and what we can do with our lives. I – I do love Frank, but oh, Jeremy—’ She hit the bal of her palm against her forehead. ‘Can you possibly understand? I don’t know if you can, Jeremy. I think if I marry him, my life wil be over.’

‘Oh, Louisa, come off it.’

She shook her head, smiling, and stood up. ‘You don’t understand, I knew you wouldn’t.’ She put her hand out to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry, it’s me. I have to decide. Go to Cambridge, study hard, get a good job afterwards.’ She brushed her shorts down methodical y.

‘Can’t you do both?’ Jeremy stood up too, looking mystified.

‘I don’t think I can,’ Louisa smiled. ‘I rather feel that if I marry him, my identity, me, it wil be gone.’

Jeremy looked upset. ‘I don’t—’

Louisa put her hand on his. ‘Don’t worry, big brother,’ she said. ‘I don’t expect you to understand.’

As they turned towards the front door, Frances appeared at the bottom of the side staircase.

‘Gosh, it’s hot. Where’s Cecily, do you know?’ she asked. ‘I’ve been waiting for her for ages.’

‘She’s with you,’ Louisa said stupidly. ‘Isn’t she?’

‘No,’ said Frances. ‘She was supposed to be, but she went to brush her teeth and write her diary up. That was half an hour ago. She’s not in her room.’ She stared impatiently across the terrace. ‘Where on earth’s she got to? I know she hates it, but it’s so very nearly done.’

And then there was a scream, and hol ered shouting, from the path towards the sea. ‘Help! Help!’

‘What on earth . . . ?’ Jeremy darted forward. ‘What’s that?’ They ran to the bottom of the terrace. Miranda was running towards them, fol owed by Archie and another figure behind them.

‘Help! Get help! Ambulance!’ she screamed. ‘Get the . . . get the ambulance!’

‘What?’ Louisa said, running towards her cousin. ‘Miranda – what’s wrong?’

Frances stood stock-stil , as if frozen to the spot. ‘It’s Cecily, Cecily.’ Miranda was racing like a madman, her hair whipping round her face. Two circles burnt red on her cheeks. ‘She fel – she stepped back and she slipped . . . Oh, God.’ She stopped and looked up at them imploringly. ‘What have I done?’

‘You didn’t do anything,’ Archie said.

Guy appeared behind them. ‘What’s happened?’ he was shouting as he approached them. ‘I heard screams – who is it? Where’s – where’s Cecily?’

‘I’l get the ambulance,’ Miranda sobbed. ‘Oh . . . Cecily . . . oh, my God.’

‘What?’ Guy stood stil . Sweat ran down his forehead. ‘Cecily?’

Frances was running towards the sea. ‘Where is she?’ She was opening the gate, but Archie stopped her. He put his hand on her arm, blocking her path. ‘No, Mum,’ he said, his face unreadable. ‘I don’t think you should go down there.’

‘Why?’ Frances’s voice broke. ‘Get off me. Why?’

Archie said very quietly, ‘I don’t want you to see her like that.’

They knew, then. As Miranda’s voice came out to them: ‘Yes, Summercove. Parry Lane. It’s the Kapoors. No, dammit, Kah poor. Come quickly!’ Her voice was breaking. ‘Please, hurry up!’

‘I’m going down there,’ Guy said, breaking away and running towards the gate. ‘I’m going . . . she might stil be al right, we have to do something.’

Miranda, emerging from the house, her pale face stained with tears, just looked at him, and then at Archie, and shook her head.