‘I spent time there after university. But tell me about you and Cass first.’
‘I was asked to do a last-minute job there,’ said Howard. ‘Photographing sites and locations where Jean Rhys had lived. I wasn’t so much of a specialist then. I had Cass with me, so had to take her.’
‘I was about twelve,’ said Cass. ‘Dad dumped me on the family of the man writing the book about Jean Rhys, but they were lovely and I really enjoyed myself. The mum took me and her daughters all over the place. The roads were terrible but the scenery was breathtaking. We weren’t there for long, but I completely fell in love with the place.’
‘I did too,’ said Ranulph. ‘I was on a dig there – I did archaeology at university – and stayed for a summer. It made a deep impression on me.’
Cass looked at him while he was spreading butter on toast. He really was very attractive and this connection with a place she had loved made him even more so.
‘It’s quite a coincidence, all of you knowing about Dominica,’ said Eleanor.
‘But a very good one,’ said Howard.
Cass wondered if he meant more than he was expressing.
Shortly afterwards, Eleanor got up and began to clear the plates. Everyone had finished eating and Ranulph and Howard had gone into the sunroom. Howard, who apparently had been dithering, impliedhe wanted to talk to Ranulph about the book he wanted to write about Howard’s life.
Cass got up too and helped stack plates and screw tops back on the jars of honey and marmalade.
‘You’re good at this,’ said Eleanor, seeing how efficiently Cass stacked the tray.
‘I used to work in a small hotel. I picked up all kinds of skills. I can balance plates on my arm if I have to,’ said Cass.
Once in the kitchen, Cass said, ‘Eleanor?’
Eleanor looked up from stacking the dishwasher. ‘Yes?’
‘It’s OK if you and Howard are together. I don’t mind. I realise it must feel very awkward for you, but really, it’s fine.’
Eleanor sighed and smiled. ‘I begged Howard to tell you about me before you came, but he doesn’t seem to like confrontation, so he didn’t.’
‘I’m the same!’ said Cass, seeing an opportunity to unburden herself a bit. ‘I’ve got something to say to Dad that I haven’t said.’
‘What is it? Is it bad?’
Cass shrugged. ‘I’m signed up to do a teacher-training course in September. I really don’t want to do it. I don’t want to be a teacher.’
‘I wouldn’t want to be one either,’ said Eleanor. ‘I love kids but being a teacher involves a bit more than that.’
‘Exactly!’ Cass was delighted to find such a sympathetic ear. ‘I think my family all think I have to have a proper profession and I’m sure they’re right, but being a teacher isn’t it.’
‘What is it then, Cass?’
Cass regarded Eleanor, who was listening properly, and seemed to really care, but somehow she couldn’t explain she wanted to do art, even if she couldn’t go to art school. ‘I need to psych myself up a bit more before I can confess that,’ she said. ‘But I will, very soon. Having you on my side is really helpful.’
‘But you’ll tell Howard about not wanting to be a teacher?’
‘Yes.’ The thought was daunting but it had to be done. She’d have to officially give up her place at university. The sooner the better.
‘He won’t mind, you know,’ said Eleanor. ‘Like most parents, he just wants you to be happy. And he thinks very highly of you, Cass.’
Cass laughed lightly. ‘I’ve no idea why!’
‘Go off and do something you want to do,’ said Eleanor. ‘I’ll finish up here.’
Cass thought of her sketchbook and pencils at the bottom of her rucksack. ‘Thank you. I will!’
CHAPTER THREE
