Summer On The River by Marcia Willett

Author:Marcia Willett [Willett, Marcia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Random House UK, Transworld Publishers
Published: 2000-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

REGATTA: THE FUN of the bungee rowing in the Boat Float; two spectacular firework displays; the hauntingly beautiful illuminated river procession; a review of classic craft with its wonderfully informed commentary; the heart-stopping Red Arrows. Ben takes photographs, wanders amongst the happy visitors and provides a safe anchorage from which Jemima and Charlie sail out from time to time to conduct an odd, unlikely love affair. They contrive never to be alone yet there are moments when they can draw apart and enter into their magical, private world: holding hands as they watch the flare and drama of the fireworks; Charlie’s arm protectively around her as the Red Arrows scream up the valley, turning and twisting just feet above the masts of the moored yachts; laughing together as they cheer on the tug of war in Coronation Park.

Ben watches them with a queer mixture of envy and compassion. Jemima is so open, so funny, so easy to be with, and between the three of them runs a cheerful, jokey familiarity as if they have always known each other.

Claude and Evie seem to have entered into this strange conspiracy. The garden is the place where they all congregate each afternoon and where Jemima joins them, having come down on the Park and Ride or walked over from the office after work. She wanders amongst the sweet-smelling shrubs, asking Evie the names of the plants, drawing her fingers through the lavender, teasing Claude about his knowing the Latin names.

Ben pours tea, and later wine, sometimes they have supper there, on the top terrace. Behind the laughter and the jokes he sees the memories that shadow Evie’s eyes, the anxiety that lingers at the edge of Claude’s smile, the pain of Charlie’s undeclared love. And at some point Jemima will push back her chair and say: ‘I must get back to poor old Otto,’ and there are always protests of dismay, a plan for tomorrow, but it is always Ben who goes with her down through the garden, through the house.

‘I love your house, Benj,’ she says to him, looking around the hall and up the elegant staircase.

‘Not mine, alas,’ he says. ‘Evie’s house. Charlie’s one day. Not mine.’

She reaches up to kiss him and he sees that suddenly her eyes are full of tears and he just as suddenly hates it that she cannot be openly and happily with Charlie.

‘Dear Benj,’ she says.

He likes it that she calls him Benj; as if she has known him from a child.

‘I’m driving you up to the Park and Ride,’ he says. ‘No, it’s no use being stubborn and independent. It’s later than we usually are. Come on. Don’t argue.’

Suddenly he feels angry with Charlie, who seems content to let things drift like this; who makes no move to push things to some conclusion. In silence he drives up Crowther’s Hill, trying to conquer this resentment, knowing that part of it is rooted in jealousy. How easy it would be to fall in love with Jemima, to detach her gently from his cousin.

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