He laughed out loud.
‘I’m definitely way past being a randy sixth former, not that I ever was one, and there’s no snogging allowed in this car. Fitz’s rule.’
She blushed and wondered if he’d just made that up.
I’d better go,’ she said, reaching for the door handle, ‘or Mum will come out in her nightie and haul us both inside for hot chocolate and marshmallows and an interrogation.’
‘Has she got someone else with her? Jo, maybe? I thought I saw another figure at the window?’
‘I don’t think so. There’s only one car here. Unless she’s brought Jo and Daniel back to stay the night.’ Her eyes widened in alarm. ‘We’ll be like sardines. I might even have to share the double bed with her.’
‘Do you want to check? You can always come back with me. Fitz’s room is spare at the moment.’
She reached for the basket on the back seat and accidentally brushed the collar of his shirt. She jumped away, but he didn’t move.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Didn’t mean to… you know. Just needed to get the basket. It’s Carrie’s, and thank you for the offer, but I’m sure it will be fine.’
Suddenly she couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. He opened the driver door and stepped out, beating her to the gate.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ she said, fumbling with the latch.
‘Thank you for cheering Erin up and me, too,’ he said.
‘Did you need cheering?’
‘We all do sometimes, don’t we? You haven’t glazed your bowl yet. Are you coming back to join the others for that?’
‘I’m not sure.’
He looked as if he was trying to cover disappointment, but perhaps it was wishful thinking.
‘Even if you don’t, I’d like to think that somewhere you’ll carry on working with clay. You have a real feel for it.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘See you soon,’ he said. ‘Sleep well.’
And then he was back in the car and reversing around to drive away up the lane. She turned to look at the cottage, the pink tinged moon low in the sky, a sheep baaing in the field, something small rustling in the border next to her. Inside was Beulah with all her years of pent-up maternal feelings and conversations. Jules didn’t feel up to facing that yet, so she wandered around the side of the house and headed towards the willow tree.
‘May I come in?’ she asked, before parting the foliage.
It felt ridiculous, but she almost expected to see someone sitting there on that log. She stood and watched the tracery formed by the moonlight and the gently rustling branches. Itwas mesmerising, calming. She could have stayed there forever. Her mother and Carrie were right. There was something special about this place.
‘Darling!’ A voice brought her back to reality. ‘There you are. I wondered where you’d gone. Almost wondered if you’d driven off with the wonderful Lance for a little cuddle.’
‘Mum, no! He’s far too much of a gentleman for that.’
‘Shame,’ Beulah said. ‘That’s probably just what you need.’
She spun around to look up at the vaulted space.
‘I wonder who planted this tree, who lived in this house.’
‘Rita’s great-aunt lived here, I think.’
‘Maybe even before that,’ Beulah said. ‘They are still around, the spirits of this place, their whispers float through the air like pollen. They are trying to care for you, to show you the way forward.’
Jules reached out and placed her palm against the strong body of the tree.
