Now
A collection of old and new photographs.
My eyelids were growing heavy at this point, but I turned over the page and read on.
Introduction
In this short book I have endeavoured to describe the varied fortunes of this small and out-of-the way village – even the Black Death gave it a miss – which later came to attract artists, writers and all those who love the beauty of natural form and the magnetic and enthralling power of water cascading from rocky outcrops and rushing forward towards the valley …
Even had I not been so sleepy by now, Elf’s writing style was a bit on the soporific side and the words began to dance in front of my eyes. I put the book on the bedside table, turned out the light, and Caspar stretched out luxuriously beside me and then relaxed with a long, contented sigh.
11
Wheels within Wheels
Casper was still there when I woke, but once I got up he leaped off the bed and headed for the door to Lavender Cottage, so I closed it after him.
I wondered if Jacob really did intend installing a giant cat flap in the door.
Dawn was a tinge of rose in a dark lilac-grey sky, but it soon grew light and promised to be a crisp but sunny day.
After breakfast I dressed for work, in warm layers under a padded waxed cotton gilet of great age, which some visitor had left behind at one of the châteaux I’d worked at and never reclaimed.
You’d be surprised at the odd things you find in lost property boxes.
My anorak was stuffed into the rucksack, along with a bottle of water, and then I was ready to go.
I went into the café first, even though it was too early to expect anyone to be there, but I thought perhaps if Myfy or Elf was in their kitchen I could have a quick word.
The top half of the stable door was ajar, though, and Myfy must have heard my boots on the floor, because she looked over it.
‘Morning,’ she said. ‘Would you like some breakfast? We’re having porridge and toast.’
‘Oh, no, thank you, I’ve had mine,’ I said. ‘I just came to say that I was going over to the Hall this morning, but I’ll make a start on your garden some time this afternoon, before I check the River Walk. Is that all right?’
‘Yes, fine,’ said Elf, popping up next to her sister in a way that started to remind me of an old-fashioned Punch and Judy show I’d seen on the TV. We just needed a dog, a policeman and a string of sausages.
‘You and Ned just arrange it how you want to,’ Myfy told me. ‘His need is greater than ours.’
‘I can’t wait to start on the rose garden – but I’ll see what he wants me to do first.’
‘I don’t remember a time when you could get down any of the paths in the rose garden,’ said Myfy. ‘So good luck with that.’
‘You might find Caspar out there,’ Elf suggested. ‘He had his breakfast early and then we thought we’d try letting him out for the first time, so we hope he’ll come back again.’
Myfy said, ‘But he’s microchipped, if he wanders off.’
‘I’ll keep an eye out for him,’ I promised.
But it was Ned I found first, sitting on the marble bench in the rose garden, tossing food to the koi, whose great red-gold and silver shapes emerged from the murky depths like ghosts, swirled, mouths opening and shutting, then slowly sank back into the darkness again.
‘I wondered who fed those,’ I said, closing the gate behind me and going to sit on the end of the bench, leaving a respectable distance between us.
‘My uncle Theo looked after them and the peacocks – he used to sit here for hours on warm days – but unfortunately he wasn’t much of a gardener.’
‘Sounds like Treena, my sister. Her family had a garden centre and nursery, but all she ever cared about was animals and birds. She’s a vet now, in Great Mumming.’
He was still looking down at the pool, where a last koi surfaced, then vanished, leaving a spreading circle of ripples, so I could safely study his face for a moment. It was intended by nature to be open and good-humoured, with those lean cheeks bracketing a long, straight mouth that could quirk upwards at the corners in amusement. But now, even in repose, it wore a reserved, wary expression that wasn’t natural to it … and