more compulsion to work my arse off, free to be completely myself …’
‘Oh, so did I.’
Etta looked up into Valent’s face properly for the first time, noticing how unusually pale and drawn it was, the circles beneath his eyes as black as his dark eyebrows.
‘I don’t believe it was just Alban that got Rafiq and Mrs Wilkinson back,’ she protested in wonder. ‘It was you working flat out night and day that did it.’
And as she found herself in Valent’s arms, face against the yellow-check tweed jacket they’d bought for him to wear at the races, she realized how much weight he’d lost.
‘I didn’t know how to get you back,’ muttered Valent, ‘but I knew I wouldn’t have a moment’s happiness until I did. I bought Wilkie in such a cack-handed way to stop Harvey-Holden and Shade getting her.’
‘That and the beautiful portrait I was so vile about, please can I have it back?’ begged Etta. ‘And all the other sweet things, mending the Polo and Sky in Switzerland and the rustic poles.’
‘Hush,’ said Valent and he kissed her, very tentatively then passionately, until they both had to collapse on a conveniently mossy bank.
‘That was so earth-shatteringly lovely,’ sighed Etta and then, cast down, ‘but oh Valent, I’m not glam enough for you. I was so jealous of Bonny. She’s so beautiful – and young.’
‘And daft as a brush. Don’t be so bluddy stupid.’ Valent tried to kiss her again, but Etta stopped him, really perturbed.
‘I’ll probably horrify you with nothing on, all saggy and varicose.’
Valent laughed softly.
‘I saw you in the bath on the night of the flood. I barged into the bathroom with Gwenny and shot out before you realized. I didn’t want to embarrass you but you looked bluddy gorgeous.’
‘But not like Bonny,’ wailed Etta.
‘She’s for a weekend, you’re for always. I want a playmate, not a plaything.’ Valent stroked her hair.
‘And I’m heavily into yob-satisfaction,’ giggled Etta, trapping his hands under hers. ‘You are so bluddy gorgeous too.’
Valent smirked.
‘Where do you want to live?’ he asked. ‘I thought you’d like Bluebell Hill back.’
‘No I would not.’ Etta decided it was time to be assertive. ‘I love Willowwood, we’ve got so many friends here. Little Hollow’s a bit small but I’d love to stay at Badger’s Court with you.’ And she kissed him, putting her hands on either side of his face, unbelievably touched to feel the tears spilling out of his eyes.
‘Ouch,’ she squawked as a jealous Priceless, back from rabbiting, nudged her in the ribs.
‘Ouch,’ yelled Valent, as Gwenny shimmied down the oak tree and landed, claws out, on his shoulder. Next moment Mrs Wilkinson and Chisolm had wandered up to join the party.
‘With this menagerie, we’re going to need Badger’s Court,’ said Valent happily, ‘particularly if we’ve got to find room for Mrs Wilkinson’s foal,’ and probably Trixie and her baby too, he thought, but he’d tell Etta about that tomorrow.
The stars were coming out, the moon rising to witness their joy, when suddenly, sweetly, over the bowed willows floated the pealing of church bells.
‘Oh how heavenly,’ sighed Etta, ‘Pocock must be back from the memorial service.’
‘They’ll be ringing for us in a week or two,’ Valent tucked his arm through Etta’s, ‘and Niall can marry us.’
‘Oh yes please.’ Etta gave another sigh of happiness.
As Pocock started ringing ‘Here’s To You, Mrs Wilkinson’, Valent said, ‘We’d better get her back to face the world’s press. She’d hate to miss them.’
‘My mother always said VE were the most beautiful initials in the world, because they stood for Victory in Europe,’ said Etta, kissing his cheek, ‘but my most beautiful initials are VE because they stand for Valent Edwards.’
And I’m going to be Mrs Valent Edwards, she thought in ecstasy.
As they wandered back through the wood, followed by Priceless with Chisolm and Gwenny both hitching a lift on Mrs Wilkinson’s back, Etta said it was like the end of The Incredible Journey.
‘Do you think Romeo and Sir Cuthbert will call Love Rat out when they learn Mrs Wilkinson’s in foal?’
‘No, Auntie Chisolm will put paid to that.’
148
On the village green, amid scenes of riotous celebration, a hastily assembled disco had taken over from the church bells. Ione was twisting with the Bishop, Old Mrs Malmesbury was teaching an absolutely plastered Joey the Charleston, the Major foxtrotted with Tilda, Shagger bopped with Debbie.
Niall, his black vestments flying, jived with Woody, each congratulating the other on saving the Willowwood Chestnut as they gazed up at its multiple moonlit