One Summer at Deer’s Leap. Elizabeth Elgin

he would. I want children, too, and after book three I shall think very seriously about getting married.’

      ‘To Piers?’

      ‘Probably to the first man who asks me, Mum!’

      With that she seemed happy and we walked in silent contentment to the back door where Dad was washing his hands in the water butt.

      ‘Now then, our lass!’ He gave Mum a smack on her bottom and she went very red and told him to stop carrying on in the middle of the day.

      It stopped her thinking about her unmarried daughter, for all that, and the grandchildren she was desperate to have about the place. I gave her a conspiratorial wink, and peace reigned at Greenleas.

      

      Jeannie phoned just as I’d pulled the curtain across my workspace, pleased with a fair day’s work.

      ‘Hi! How’s it going, then?’

      ‘Great!’ It could only refer to the current novel. ‘I must spend the weekend partying more often!’

      ‘Well, Beth meant it when she asked you up there for Christmas. I think she quite took to you!’

      ‘I’d love to go, Jeannie. I keep thinking about Deer’s Leap and being sad for Beth that she’s got to leave.’

      ‘She doesn’t have to, but it’s best all round they don’t ask for the lease to be renewed. The twins will start senior school in September. A good state school will be high on her list of priorities. Boarding in winter costs a lot of dosh, you know.’

      I said I was sure it must.

      ‘Meantime, Cassie, you might get to stay there again in exchange for baby-sitting the place. Beth and Danny have hired a caravan in Cornwall for a few weeks in the summer. It’ll be the first decent holiday they’ve had in years. Beth’s a bit worried about leaving the house, though. She wouldn’t want to come back and find squatters in it.’

      ‘Yes, and there’s the dog and the cats to think about, I suppose.’

      ‘Kennels and catteries cost money, I agree. So would you baby-sit the house, Cassie? Wouldn’t you be a bit afraid on your own?’

      ‘You mean you’re really offering?’ I gasped.

      ‘You’d get a lot of work done, that’s for sure, with nothing and no one to distract you. With luck you could do a fair bit of wordage.’

      ‘I don’t think I would be afraid – especially with a dog there, but why didn’t Beth say anything about it at the weekend?’

      ‘Because I’ve only just thought about it. Are you really interested, Cas? I could come and join you, weekends. Shall I mention it to Beth?’

      ‘She might think me pushy. And what if she doesn’t like the idea of a stranger in her home?’

      ‘You aren’t a stranger. I told you, she likes you.’

      I wondered – just for a second – what Mum would make of the idea.

      ‘We-e-ll, if Beth agrees …’ I said.

      ‘She’ll agree. She’s sure to worry about the animals and the houseplants, and we could cut the grass between us. I might be able to fix it so I could stay over until Mondays – get some reading done in peace and quiet.’

      ‘Mm …’ Jeannie has to read a lot of manuscripts.

      ‘Well then?’

      ‘If you’re sure, Jeannie?’

      ‘I can but ask. I bet they’ll both jump at the chance. It would have to be unpaid, of course.’

      My heart had started to thump again, just to think of a whole month there. Deer’s Leap in the summer. I could write and write and only stop when I was hungry.

      ‘OK, then. I’m game …’

      I thought, as I put the phone down, that I was stark, raving mad. For one thing, Mum and Dad wouldn’t like the idea and for another, it wasn’t very bright of me to go there. Not because I’d be afraid on my own – Deer’s Leap would take good care of me – but because I’d be heading straight into trouble. For the past two days I’d been looking for an excuse to get back there without Beth or Danny knowing; to drive down the long lane that led to their house and hope to find the airman again, thumbing a lift. Yet now it seemed it could be handed to me on a plate. I could drive up and down the lane as often as I wanted; could open the kissing gate and find where the path led – and to whom. I could even do a bit of gentle nosing in the village, because once they knew I was living at Deer’s Leap they’d treat me like Beth and Danny and the twins – one of themselves.

      The thumping was getting worse and a persistent little pulse behind my nose had joined in. I knew if I had one iota of sense I should be praying that Beth wouldn’t want me there.

      Yet I knew I would go back, because Deer’s Leap had me hogtied and besides, there was a pilot who needed my help – not only to find his girl but to be gently told he was a name on a war memorial.

      Then the phone rang again and I knew it was Piers.

      Oh, damn, damn, damn!

       Chapter Three

      Piers was quite loving on the phone. Not very loving – that isn’t his style. Piers prefers a hands-on, eyes smouldering approach, which doesn’t come over too well on a telephone. But he was very nice, asking if I’d had a good day workwise, and when was he to be allowed to come up and see me – since it didn’t seem I was in all that much of a hurry to go and see him!

      Then he said that of course he understood that I was a working woman and must be given my own space. He didn’t mean one word of it – I can tell when he’s talking tongue in cheek – but at least he’d got this morning’s message.

      ‘You do want to see me, Cassandra?’ he persisted. ‘I’ve got a few days owing; could pop up north any time next month.’

      I said of course I wanted to see him and that next month would be fine; by then I’d have finished chapter ten and sent off a copy to Jeannie, I added, and probably caught up with myself. I was a little behind schedule, he’d understand, on the deadline date.

      I would also, with a bit of luck, have removed myself to Deer’s Leap, and out of his reach. It wasn’t that I was being devious or two-faced, I was merely keeping one jump ahead of him, and if I had to tell a few lies it wasn’t entirely my fault since Piers is a chauvinist. He always has been, come to think of it. Looking back, the signs were there even when he was at the spotty stage, long before he went to university.

      ‘I can tell your mind is miles away, so tell me you love me and I’ll leave you in peace,’ he said, throatily indulgent.

      ‘You know I do,’ I hedged, putting the phone down gently, marvelling that twice in one day I’d had the last word. Then I forgot him completely because of far more importance was telling Mum that I might be about to baby-sit a house in the back of beyond, and didn’t she agree it was a smashing idea?

      

      Mum didn’t think it was a good idea at all.

      ‘You said that house is isolated, Cassie! How can you even begin to think of spending a month there alone?’

      ‘For one thing, I’d have no interruptions and –’

      ‘You can say that again, miss! And you could be lying dead in a pool of blood and no one any the wiser!’

      ‘Mother!’ I always seem to call her that when she lays it on a bit thick. ‘Of course I couldn’t! I can look after myself!’

      ‘Famous last words!’ Her cheeks