One Summer at Deer’s Leap. Elizabeth Elgin

didn’t you?’

      ‘Yes. After I’d asked for it. Why didn’t you ring me, Cassandra?’ He still sounded peeved.

      ‘Because!’ I said flatly and finally. ‘I’m very well, since you ask, and yes, we had a lovely, lazy weekend. Where are you?’

      ‘At the flat. I’ve just got up.’

      ‘We-e-ll, don’t ring any more in the expensive time. Leave it for after six, why don’t you?’

      I’d be better able to cope with his bossiness then. An upset this early in the day could put me off my stroke – especially when he was making a meal of it, like now. ‘You’ve got to understand this book is important, Piers,’ I rushed on. ‘I came here to write – what you call my scribbling – and I do wish you would take me seriously. Just sometimes,’ I finished breathlessly.

      ‘But, my love, I do take you seriously.’ His tone was changing from accusing to placating. ‘It’s just that you seem to be wrapped up in it to the exclusion of all else. You and me, especially …’

      ‘Piers! Please not now; not this early in the day! And of course I’m wrapped up in it. It’s my work, you must accept that. This novel has got to be good and then Harrier Books might begin to take me seriously.’

      ‘You’re set on it, aren’t you, Cassandra? You really believe you can make a living from it when most writers need a daytime job too. Don’t you think you’ve been living off your parents long enough? Isn’t it about time you took a serious look at the way your life is going?’

      ‘I see. I’d be better shacking up with you, providing all the home comforts, you mean?’

      ‘Now you’re getting angry, sweetheart.’

      ‘Don’t interrupt!’ I was angry! Piers would have to learn you can only push a redhead so far! ‘I have never lived off Mum and Dad. I pulled my weight at home and only wrote when I could find the time. And yes, I do hope to make a living from writing! Ice Maiden is doing well; they’re reprinting it, as a matter of fact! Oh, don’t worry! I won’t be going into tax exile just yet, but I’m holding my own! And even if I wasn’t, I shouldn’t have to justify myself to you!’

      I took a deep breath. I expected an explosion or a slamming-down of the phone, but all I got was a silence. Piers is good at pregnant pauses; can stretch five seconds into five minutes.

      ‘Cassie love, don’t get upset. I was anxious, hadn’t heard from you. For all I knew you could be – well …’

      ‘Having a passionate affair with a local yokel? Well, I’m flaming not!’

      ‘You seem determined to have a row. What’s the matter then – stuck for words?’

      ‘No, I’m not. The words are coming well, but thanks a heap, Piers, for helping me to start the day with an upset! I’m not doing a prima donna, but you narking on the phone I can do without! Ring after six, will you?’

      I had meant to end the conversation firmly and with dignity, but I slammed the phone down angrily and now he’d know he’d got me rattled! I could imagine his smirk. Drat the man!

      

      For the next two days I allowed nothing and no one to come between me and my work. Luckily Piers didn’t phone again. I existed on sandwiches and coffee, rewarding myself for my labours with a large sherry after I had switched off.

      On Wednesday, at six o’clock exactly, I had safely stored two chapters on a floppy disk. I felt drained, but triumphant. Deer’s Leap was good to me, wrapping me round to keep out all interruptions.

      I rotated my head, hearing little crackling sounds as I did so, deciding I needed to loosen up. My heroine had got herself into a bit of a mess, but she could stew in it until morning, I thought, well satisfied with the cliffhanger at the end of chapter twelve.

      I was wondering whether to eat at the Rose or whether to boil the last couple of eggs, when Mum phoned.

      ‘Hullo, there! You sound a long way away!’

      ‘I am, Mum! I’ve just finished work, actually. I’ve got two chapters done since I came here! I’m having a sherry, then I’ll make myself some supper. How’s everything?’

      ‘We’re fine, only I’m afraid we won’t be able to make it up there this week. I’d forgotten your dad is judging at two flower shows. We’ll probably make it the week following. Is that all right with you, love?’

      ‘Come whenever you want to. I’d really like you to see this place. When I win the Lottery, I shall buy it!’

      ‘Ha! More to the point, are you getting enough to eat?’

      ‘I am, though I work while the mood is on me, and eat when I’m hungry. Jeannie is coming up again on Friday.’

      ‘Have you spoken to Piers, yet? I don’t suppose he’ll be coming to see you?’

      ‘Not unless you give him my address, Mum! I’m here to work. I don’t want any interruptions – leastways, not from him.’

      ‘Aah,’ she sighed, and I knew I had said the right thing.

      ‘I’m going to Clitheroe tomorrow. There’s something I want to look up at the library.’

      ‘You’re sure you’re all right, Cassie?’

      ‘I’m fine. We’ve eaten all the parkin, by the way. Bring me another piece when you come up, there’s a love? Jeannie really liked it.’

      I could feel Mum’s glow of pleasure in my ear. Tomorrow, I’d take bets on her making a double mixing, then putting my piece in a tin to moisten. Parkin is best kept a few days before eating.

      ‘Of course I will! Anything else you want?’

      ‘No thanks, I’m fine, and working well. I miss you both. Take care of yourselves, won’t you?’

      ‘We will, lovey. And don’t go answering the door after dark!’

      ‘I won’t. And I’ve got Hector to look after me. He doesn’t like strangers very much!’

      ‘Well, then …’

      ‘I’ll phone you at the weekend, Mum. We’ll have a good long chat, then. Love you!’

      I smiled at the receiver as I put it down, deciding to take the car down to Acton Carey, and drink Coke instead of bitter, even though it was unlikely I would meet any traffic on the way back.

      The way back. Would I meet anyone, though? I hadn’t seen the airman since Saturday morning at the kissing gate, though I hadn’t gone out of my way to find him. I wondered if he was once billeted at Deer’s Leap after the Smiths left. At least I now knew the names of those long-ago people.

      Maybe, though, Jack Hunter had been quartered somewhere else. He’d said he wanted to get to Deer’s Leap, but could he have been going there to meet Susan Smith? Had they been an item – or courting, walking-out as it would have been called in those days?

      I put eggs to boil, then sliced bread. Lotus walked daintily into the kitchen, indicating, nose in air, that she would accept a saucer of milk. Tommy tried to share it and was warned off. I put a saucer down for him, then began to time the eggs as they came to the bubble.

      That was when the phone began to ring. It was Piers, dammit! I moved the pan from the heat.

      ‘Hullo, darling. In a better mood, are we?’

      ‘I’m fine. Put in a good day’s work. I’m just about to eat.’ This time I wouldn’t let him get me rattled! ‘How was your day, Piers?’

      ‘Oh, routine, as always.’

      ‘Hm.’ He never explained what went on in that lab he worked in. I suppose that he supposed I wouldn’t understand it anyway. ‘I’m going out tonight.’