‘Or even worse, one of the donkeys,’ he replied.
‘Absolutely not.’
Slowly he unfurled his fingers.
‘I think I can make my way down these steps on my own.’
He let Jules go ahead.
‘You must want to have a wander,’ he said when they got to the bottom. He checked his phone. ‘I’ve got a couple of calls to make so we’ll meet up at one, shall we?’
She nodded and watched as he strode off. In her back pocket her phone buzzed, and she answered.
‘Where are you?’ Carrie asked.
‘At Carisbrooke Castle.’
‘Oh, nice. I’d have come with you if I’d known.’
‘I thought you were busy this morning and I sort of got railroaded into this.’
She explained what had happened.
‘Are you all right?’ Carrie asked. ‘Do you need me to come and rescue you?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ Jules replied.
And standing there, surrounded by these ancient walls which had seen almost everything, she realised that she was fine. Almost.
At one o’clock the girls were already lying stretched out, headphones in. Erin had her eyes closed while Tasha stared at the bright blue sky. Jules took off her cardigan, spread it out on the grass and sat down. She watched people walking past, children laughing, pensioners ambling, young couples arm in arm. What were their lives like, she wondered, behind the scenes, beyond the brief respite of a day out? What joys and tragedies were they walking around with? In the distance she could see Lance walking towards them purposefully. He stopped briefly to talk to someone he obviously knew, adjusting the long strap of the cool bag on his shoulder, her basket heldfirmly in his other hand. He threw back his head and laughed at something the woman had said. How life enhancing, Jules thought, to bump into people you knew just on a random day out. She was so busy rushing to work and back, often in the dark, that if she did see anyone familiar, she never had time to stop and chat.
‘Sorry,’ he said, when he finally reached them, ‘I got waylaid. Someone who did one of my courses a while back.’
Erin had opened her eyes and was sitting up.
‘Dad’s always being accosted by people who’ve been to The Pottery,’ she said, rolling her eyes, but with an unmistakable air of pride.
He opened a packet of pretzels and offered Jules one before tipping them into a bowl.
‘Prawn sandwich? Or ham and tomato?’
She took one of the prawn mayo ones and immediately thought it was a mistake. She was bound to spill some of the filling down her front.
‘And one of Erin’s sausage rolls,’ Tasha said, peeling back a foil parcel.
The pastry was still warm and very flaky – another potential for making a horrible mess.
Lance leaned back on his arms and stretched out his legs. He was wearing shorts and his legs were lightly tanned. Jules bit tentatively into the most delicious cherry tomato she thought she’d ever tasted outside the Mediterranean. At least it didn’t squirt all over her top. She’d forgotten how difficult picnics were to eat. It wasn’t so bad if you were with people you knew, but when you were with strangers, well, the last thing you wanted was to end up splattered with food or, even worse, squirt them with food.
‘My mum likes a picnic,’ she said. ‘She’d be impressed with this.’
Erin looked pleased.
‘We saw you on the ramparts,’ she said, casting a sly glance at Tasha.
She’d obviously spotted that they’d been holding hands, Jules thought. Teenagers either missed the things you desperately wanted them to notice or instantly noticed the things you didn’t want them to.
‘We saw you near the donkeys,’ Jules said.
