Read Online Voices in Summer by Rosamunde Pilcher - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rosamunde Pilcher
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breath. ‘I suppose,' he said carefully, 'if you fall in love with a person, their age doesn't matter.'
Abruptly, Gabriel stopped walking. Alec stopped too, and they stood facing each other, two solitary figures in the middle of nowhere. Not once during this afternoon's encounter had her eyes met his, and now she looked angrily straight ahead, at his coat buttons.
She said, 'Couldn't I have stayed with you?'
He was invaded by an impulse to embrace her, pull his child into his arms, break down her reserve with a demonstration of love that would somehow convince her that this ghastly separation that they spoke of was as abhorrent to him as it was to her. But he had promised himself on the way down to the school to see her that he would not do this. You mustn't upset her, Erica had begged him. Go and see her and talk things over, but don't upset her. She's accepted the situation. If you start getting emotional, then we're all back where we started and your going to break Gabriel into little pieces.
He tried to smile. He said evenly, ‘There's nothing I wanted more. But it wouldn't work. I couldn't look after you. I have too many commitments, I'd be away so much. You need your mother. For the time being, you should be with her. It's better that way.'
She set her mouth as though, faced with the inevitable, she were gathering courage to accept it. She turned from him, and once more they walked.
'You'll come back to see me,' Alec told her. 'We'll go to Glenshandra again next summer. You could maybe try your luck with the salmon this year.'
'What's going to happen to Deepbrook?'
‘I suppose I shall sell it. There's not much point hanging on to it if your mother isn't there.'
'And you?'
‘I shall stay in Islington.'
She said painfully, 'My bedroom in London . . .'
'It's still your room. It always will be. . . .'
'It isn't that. It's just some books I'd like to take with me. I've . . . I've written down the names.' She took her hand from her pocket and brought out a piece of lined paper torn from an exercise book. He took it from her and unfolded it. He read,
The Secret Garden
Adventure of the World
Gone with the Wind
There were other titles, but for some reason he couldn't go on reading them.
'Of course.' He spoke gruffly, pushing the piece of paper deep into the pocket of his own overcoat. 'Is . . . is there anything else?'
'No. Just the books.'
‘I don't know if your mother told you, but I'm going to drive you both to the airport to catch your plane. I'll bring the books with me then. So if you do think of any more things, let me know.'
She shook her head. 'There's nothing else.'
Now, the mist had turned to rain. It beaded her hair and the rough surface of her navy-blue coat. They had rounded the field and were headed back towards the school buildings. They left the grass and walked on gravel, their footsteps crunching. There did not seem to be anything else to talk about. At the foot of the steps that led up to the imposing front door, she stopped and turned once more to face him.
She said, ‘I have to go and get ready for games. You'd better not come in.'
He said, 'I'll say goodbye now. I won't say goodbye at the airport.' 'Goodbye, then.'
Her hands remained firmly deep in her coat pockets. He put his hand under her chin and lifted up her face. 'Gabriel.'
'Goodbye.'
He stooped and kissed her cheek. For the first time that afternoon she looked straight at him. For an instant their eyes met, and hers were filled with neither tears nor reproach. Then she was gone, walking away from him up the steps, beneath the pretentious colonnade, through the door.
They left for America the following Thursday, his wife and his child, on the evening flight to New York. As he had promised, Alec drove them to the airport, and after their flight had been called, and he had said goodbye, he made his way up to the observation lounge. It was a wet, dark evening, with much low cloud, and he stood, staring through the
Abruptly, Gabriel stopped walking. Alec stopped too, and they stood facing each other, two solitary figures in the middle of nowhere. Not once during this afternoon's encounter had her eyes met his, and now she looked angrily straight ahead, at his coat buttons.
She said, 'Couldn't I have stayed with you?'
He was invaded by an impulse to embrace her, pull his child into his arms, break down her reserve with a demonstration of love that would somehow convince her that this ghastly separation that they spoke of was as abhorrent to him as it was to her. But he had promised himself on the way down to the school to see her that he would not do this. You mustn't upset her, Erica had begged him. Go and see her and talk things over, but don't upset her. She's accepted the situation. If you start getting emotional, then we're all back where we started and your going to break Gabriel into little pieces.
He tried to smile. He said evenly, ‘There's nothing I wanted more. But it wouldn't work. I couldn't look after you. I have too many commitments, I'd be away so much. You need your mother. For the time being, you should be with her. It's better that way.'
She set her mouth as though, faced with the inevitable, she were gathering courage to accept it. She turned from him, and once more they walked.
'You'll come back to see me,' Alec told her. 'We'll go to Glenshandra again next summer. You could maybe try your luck with the salmon this year.'
'What's going to happen to Deepbrook?'
‘I suppose I shall sell it. There's not much point hanging on to it if your mother isn't there.'
'And you?'
‘I shall stay in Islington.'
She said painfully, 'My bedroom in London . . .'
'It's still your room. It always will be. . . .'
'It isn't that. It's just some books I'd like to take with me. I've . . . I've written down the names.' She took her hand from her pocket and brought out a piece of lined paper torn from an exercise book. He took it from her and unfolded it. He read,
The Secret Garden
Adventure of the World
Gone with the Wind
There were other titles, but for some reason he couldn't go on reading them.
'Of course.' He spoke gruffly, pushing the piece of paper deep into the pocket of his own overcoat. 'Is . . . is there anything else?'
'No. Just the books.'
‘I don't know if your mother told you, but I'm going to drive you both to the airport to catch your plane. I'll bring the books with me then. So if you do think of any more things, let me know.'
She shook her head. 'There's nothing else.'
Now, the mist had turned to rain. It beaded her hair and the rough surface of her navy-blue coat. They had rounded the field and were headed back towards the school buildings. They left the grass and walked on gravel, their footsteps crunching. There did not seem to be anything else to talk about. At the foot of the steps that led up to the imposing front door, she stopped and turned once more to face him.
She said, ‘I have to go and get ready for games. You'd better not come in.'
He said, 'I'll say goodbye now. I won't say goodbye at the airport.' 'Goodbye, then.'
Her hands remained firmly deep in her coat pockets. He put his hand under her chin and lifted up her face. 'Gabriel.'
'Goodbye.'
He stooped and kissed her cheek. For the first time that afternoon she looked straight at him. For an instant their eyes met, and hers were filled with neither tears nor reproach. Then she was gone, walking away from him up the steps, beneath the pretentious colonnade, through the door.
They left for America the following Thursday, his wife and his child, on the evening flight to New York. As he had promised, Alec drove them to the airport, and after their flight had been called, and he had said goodbye, he made his way up to the observation lounge. It was a wet, dark evening, with much low cloud, and he stood, staring through the
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