Read Online Midnight is a Lonely Place by Barbara Erskine - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Erskine
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attention to the barn. Kate’s Peugeot was there, neatly parked next to an old Volvo estate.
‘Diana’s,’ Bill said. ‘They can’t have gone far if they are all packed into that fiendish Land Rover, not if they value their teeth.’
By the time they had reached the end of the track and gained the metalled road, Kate was beginning to think he was right – and that perhaps when her next royalty cheque came she should sacrifice a few teeth in the interest of her car’s springs and buy an ancient four-wheel drive of her own for the duration of her stay.
They ordered curry at The Black Swan, a delightful long, low, pink-painted pub a mile or two from the lane, and sat down pleasantly near to a huge inglenook fireplace with a gentle smouldering log which filled the room with the scent of spicy apple. Save for the smiling pink-cheeked girl behind the bar they were the only people there. ‘So. Are you going to like it at Redall?’ Bill sat down on the high backed settle, and sticking his legs out towards the fire he gave a great sigh of contentment. He raised his pint glass and drank deeply and appreciatively.
Kate nodded. ‘It’s the perfect place to work.’
‘The loneliness doesn’t worry you?’
She shook her head. ‘I must say it was a bit quiet last night. Just the sea. But I’ll get used to it. It will be wonderful for writing.’ Picking up her own glass – she had opted for a Scotch and water – she looked at Bill for a moment. In a thick brown cable-knit sweater and open-necked shirt he reminded her faintly of a rumpled sheepdog. ‘Did you speak to Jon at all before he left, Bill?’
He glanced at her over the rim of his glass. ‘Only once. He rang to ask me if I knew where you were going.’
‘Did you tell him?’ She looked away, not wanting him to see how much she wanted him to say yes.
‘No.’ There was a thoughtful pause as he sipped his lager. ‘We had a few words on various themes related to male chauvinism – his – and misplaced chivalry – mine – and professional jealousy – all of us – and at that point I told him to bugger off to America and let you get on with your life. Did I do wrong?’
‘No.’ She didn’t sound very certain.
She was thinking of their last meeting. Jon had been about to leave for the airport. The taxi was at the door, his cases stacked nearby and she, not wanting to say goodbye, not wanting to see him again before he went in case her resolution wavered, had arrived back at the flat thinking he had already gone. For a moment she had been tempted to turn and run – but he had seen her and they were after all both grownups. For a moment they had looked at each other, then she had smiled and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Take care. Have a wonderful time. I hope it’s all a great success.’ For a moment she had thought he would turn away without a word. Then he had smiled at her awkwardly. ‘You take care too, Kate, my love. Don’t get too wrapped up in old George. And remember to look after yourself.’ They were both hurting; miserable; stiff-necked. And that was it. Picking up his cases he had walked out to the cab and climbed in without a word or a backward glance. There was no way that she could know that there were tears in his eyes.
‘I had an Irish grandmother, Kate,’ Bill said after a moment’s sympathetic silence. ‘She was always full of useful aphorisms. One of her favourites was: “if it is meant to be it will be.” I think it just about fits the case.’
Kate laughed. ‘You’re right. We need a break from each other at the moment.’ She glanced up as a waitress appeared with their knives and forks, wrapped in sugar-pink napkins, a huge bowl of mango chutney and large pepper and salt sellers contrived to look like a pair of old boots. ‘But if he phones again, perhaps you might tell him where I am this time.’ She caught Bill’s eye and they both smiled comfortably.
‘Is there a woman in your life, Bill?’
‘Diana’s,’ Bill said. ‘They can’t have gone far if they are all packed into that fiendish Land Rover, not if they value their teeth.’
By the time they had reached the end of the track and gained the metalled road, Kate was beginning to think he was right – and that perhaps when her next royalty cheque came she should sacrifice a few teeth in the interest of her car’s springs and buy an ancient four-wheel drive of her own for the duration of her stay.
They ordered curry at The Black Swan, a delightful long, low, pink-painted pub a mile or two from the lane, and sat down pleasantly near to a huge inglenook fireplace with a gentle smouldering log which filled the room with the scent of spicy apple. Save for the smiling pink-cheeked girl behind the bar they were the only people there. ‘So. Are you going to like it at Redall?’ Bill sat down on the high backed settle, and sticking his legs out towards the fire he gave a great sigh of contentment. He raised his pint glass and drank deeply and appreciatively.
Kate nodded. ‘It’s the perfect place to work.’
‘The loneliness doesn’t worry you?’
She shook her head. ‘I must say it was a bit quiet last night. Just the sea. But I’ll get used to it. It will be wonderful for writing.’ Picking up her own glass – she had opted for a Scotch and water – she looked at Bill for a moment. In a thick brown cable-knit sweater and open-necked shirt he reminded her faintly of a rumpled sheepdog. ‘Did you speak to Jon at all before he left, Bill?’
He glanced at her over the rim of his glass. ‘Only once. He rang to ask me if I knew where you were going.’
‘Did you tell him?’ She looked away, not wanting him to see how much she wanted him to say yes.
‘No.’ There was a thoughtful pause as he sipped his lager. ‘We had a few words on various themes related to male chauvinism – his – and misplaced chivalry – mine – and professional jealousy – all of us – and at that point I told him to bugger off to America and let you get on with your life. Did I do wrong?’
‘No.’ She didn’t sound very certain.
She was thinking of their last meeting. Jon had been about to leave for the airport. The taxi was at the door, his cases stacked nearby and she, not wanting to say goodbye, not wanting to see him again before he went in case her resolution wavered, had arrived back at the flat thinking he had already gone. For a moment she had been tempted to turn and run – but he had seen her and they were after all both grownups. For a moment they had looked at each other, then she had smiled and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Take care. Have a wonderful time. I hope it’s all a great success.’ For a moment she had thought he would turn away without a word. Then he had smiled at her awkwardly. ‘You take care too, Kate, my love. Don’t get too wrapped up in old George. And remember to look after yourself.’ They were both hurting; miserable; stiff-necked. And that was it. Picking up his cases he had walked out to the cab and climbed in without a word or a backward glance. There was no way that she could know that there were tears in his eyes.
‘I had an Irish grandmother, Kate,’ Bill said after a moment’s sympathetic silence. ‘She was always full of useful aphorisms. One of her favourites was: “if it is meant to be it will be.” I think it just about fits the case.’
Kate laughed. ‘You’re right. We need a break from each other at the moment.’ She glanced up as a waitress appeared with their knives and forks, wrapped in sugar-pink napkins, a huge bowl of mango chutney and large pepper and salt sellers contrived to look like a pair of old boots. ‘But if he phones again, perhaps you might tell him where I am this time.’ She caught Bill’s eye and they both smiled comfortably.
‘Is there a woman in your life, Bill?’
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