‘Yourwhat?’ her mother said blankly.
Swallowing hard, Grace stuck her chin in the air. ‘How do you do, Mr Ponsby, Mrs Ponsby?’ Her voice wavered a little, but she kept smiling, her perfect teeth showing. ‘How do you do, Caroline’s gran? Very nice to meet you all. It’s a hot day, isn’t it? Have you driven all the way here from London? That’s hundreds of miles … You must be bleedin’ exhausted.’
‘Caroline,’ her father began, frowning thunderously, ‘I don’t know if this is some sort of practical joke, but I’m not interested in speaking to you in front of this person.’
‘Then you won’t be speaking to me at all,’ Caroline told him.
He stiffened. ‘Now listen here—’
‘Just say whatever you’ve come to say, Dad, or go away again. Your choice. But she’s not leaving.’ Caroline folded her arms, while Grace stood uncertain, eyeing her family with trepidation.
‘Very well.’ Her father cleared his throat, his chin jutting. ‘Your mother and I have been discussing your future for some months now, and we’ve decided the only way forward is to take you back home where you belong. Young Albert is willing to give things another go, and if you don’t like him, there are some very nice young men whose mothersattend our church. You wouldn’t lack for invitations to parties or the cinema, and you certainly wouldn’t need a … agirlfriend.’ He flicked a disgusted glance at Grace, then looked back at Caroline in direct entreaty. ‘Your mother and I just want to see you happy and settled now the war’s over, not still living halfway across the country from us, buried here in … Well, the back of beyond.’ And he gazed about the mucky farmyard with disdain, frowning at the dusty hens pecking ever nearer his car.
Albert.
Caroline’s jaw clenched and she struggled not to be rude. These were her parents, after all. But she felt quite incensed at their interference. Had they learned nothing from her visit at Christmas? Besides, she doubted that groper would ever be interested in another date with her. Not after she’d kicked him in the shin.
Grace made an odd choking noise, and everyone looked round at her in surprise, including Caroline.
‘Grace?’ she asked, staring. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Sorry,’ Grace muttered, a hand to her mouth, and then dissolved into helpless giggles. ‘Sorry, sorry. But it’s so funny, isn’t it?’
‘What exactly is funny about this situation, young lady?’ Caroline’s father demanded sternly.
‘Well, you, for starters, Mr Ponsby.’ Grace chuckled again. ‘Thinking you can turn up here and drag your daughter off by the hair like a bleedin’ Neanderthal.’
Caroline’s mum gasped. ‘Language, please!’
‘What, are you worried about my language, love?’ Grace addressed her directly, and Caroline’s mother shrank back, looking shocked. ‘To be honest, you should be worryingabout your daughter. She’s your only child, is that right? I’d be a bit more careful if I were you, unless you don’t mind never seeing her again. Because that’s the next move in this little game, isn’t it? Threaten to cut her off, make her scared to lose you … Only she isn’t scared. Are you, Caroline?’
‘No, I’m not scared,’ Caroline agreed defiantly. It felt good to have Grace backing her up.
‘So, the only question you really need to be asking is, do you want Caroline in your life? And if you do, you should stop badgering her. Because she’s a grown woman and it’s not your business who she dates. It’shers.’ Grace reached for her hand, entwining her fingers with Caroline’s. ‘And right now she wants to date me, notAlbert,’ she ended in a mock-whisper.
Her dad said nothing but bent his head. Meanwhile, her mother gave a tiny sob, and knuckled a fist to her mouth, staring at them both.
Caroline bit her lip, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She peered at her gran, who was regarding Grace with approval. ‘Gran? What do you think?’
‘I think I wouldn’t mind a little sit-down in that nice farmhouse, if nobody minds,’ her grandmother murmured, and began to wander that way, leaning on her cane. ‘And maybe a cup of tea? It was an awful long journey, as your friend rightly says, and I’m … what was the phrase she used?Bleedin’ exhausted.’
After an awkward pause, Caroline’s parents trailed after her gran, disappearing inside the farmhouse, where no doubt a bewildered but polite Violet Postbridge would soon sort them out with a cuppa and maybe a slice of cake too.
Grace blurted out, ‘Sorry, Caroline, I couldn’t help myself.Just listening to your dad going on and on …’ She threw an unhappy glance over her shoulder. ‘Tilly must be wondering why on earth we’ve left her to do all the weeding on her own. Shall I go back and help her, poor thing?’ Grace squeezed her hand. ‘Have I made things worse for you?’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Caroline told her, close to tears. ‘You stood up for me, Grace. You took a risk …for me.’ Her smile was tremulous. ‘Nobody’s ever done that before. It was wonderful. And terrifying.’ They both laughed. ‘I don’t think my parents are going to give me any more trouble. But I really like Mr and Mrs Postbridge, and Mrs Newton, and I don’t want to upset them by being too open about us.’ She disentangled her hand from Grace’s, but gently. ‘Is that all right?’
‘Oh, Caroline … It’s more than all right.’ Grace gave a slow smile that warmed her heart. ‘It’s love.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It was a warm afternoon in August when Selina directed William down the narrow, bumpy track just past Porthcurno village to park outside Arthur and Joan Green’s pretty, thatched cottage. Stretching wearily, she climbed out of the Wolseley, and peered into the back of the car. Faith was fast asleep, leaning against her big brother, and Jemima was engrossed in a paperback, none of them aware that they had arrived at their destination.
‘We’re here, sleepyheads!’ she exclaimed. ‘Wakey, wakey!’
Peter, who’d been daydreaming, looked round with a start. This woke Faith, who yawned and rubbed her eyes, while Jemima carefully checked her page number before closing the paperback and peering out of the window.
‘This doesn’t look much like a farm,’ Jemima remarked.
