Chapter 17
6 Jan 1945
Dearest Gracie,
Just received your letter and how I would have loved to have been there sitting with you against our oak tree. Instead, I am writing this by candlelight in one of the worst storms we have had this year. It is raining, thundering, and lightning, and I expect this tent to go down soon. I am glad I don’t have to go out tonight – my heart goes out to those infantry soldiers out there in holes filled with water. The mud is knee-deep, even in this tent. Enough of my complaints.
Darling, I have but one wish and that is to get back on the other side of the Channel to you. How about throwing me a rope?
My sweet, I will close this letter, as the wind is coming up again, and the candle is about to blow out.
All my love,
E.
Megan was sitting up in bed reading the first letter from the Parma violet tin. It was such a lot to take in and she couldn’t quite face reading any more. She looked through the photographs again, taking particular interest in the one of ‘E’ in his soldier’s uniform. She cast her mind back to Tobias’ reaction when she had shown it him. Had he been thinking the same as she? Because right now, it felt like she was looking at herself. ‘E’ had the same almond-shaped eyes, the same button nose, sprinkled with freckles, the full lips and jaw line. Even their ears were the same, small and compact. With an uneasy feeling starting to brood, Megan decided to try to get some sleep.
*
True to his word, Tobias had arranged for the plasterer to call at Bluebell Cottage early the next morning. Megan rubbed her eyes and let him in.
‘Looks like your door’s—’
‘Sticking. Yes, I know,’ Megan interrupted the rather portly-looking workman wearing white overalls and a cheery smile. Far too jovial for this time in the morning, she thought whilst showing him into the sitting room and pointing out the ceiling with her footprint in the middle of it.
‘No problem, love, just you leave it to me. It’ll be perfect by the time you come home.’
‘Will it?’ Megan was surprised, not daring to think that her return from work would welcome freshly plastered walls and ceiling.
‘Course,’ he winked. ‘You won’t recognise the place.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ she beamed, fatigue suddenly replaced with a little more zest.
She decided to walk past Treweham Hall on her way to the pub, to weigh up exactly what she had agreed to paint. In the early morning mist it stood proud and resilient. The pale pink sky made a splendid backdrop as rosy sun rays highlighted the fresh green of the virginia creeper elegantly draping the creamy stone. Across the silvery haze of the grounds, swallows flew and dipped, and she heard a wood pigeon call, and then the shuffling of hoofs.
Megan turned her gaze towards the stables to the right of the hall. Her heart stopped. There he was, Tobias, looking magnificent in jodhpurs, slowly leading his horse through to the courtyard. Quickly Megan hid behind a tree so he couldn’t see her spying on him. She saw him gently reassure and pat the horse before he swung one leg over to land directly in the saddle. His jodhpurs certainly showcased his powerful physique, Megan noticed in awe, not to mention the black T-shirt hugging his broad shoulders and biceps. As if sensing he was being watched, Tobias suddenly looked up. Megan jerked her head back behind the tree trunk and held her breath. Daring to stare through the branches, she saw him canter straight backed out into the dewy morning. She just hoped she’d be able to paint the hall without too much distraction.
*
‘You’re early,’ Finula was busy cooking breakfast for the pub’s overnight visitors.
‘I know, making way for the plasterer,’ Megan replied, taking off her jacket and donning an apron. ‘Thanks, by the way, for asking Tobias.’
‘No problem.’ There was a pause and Megan still sensed a slight awkwardness between them.
‘Finula, I know it’s none of my business about Nick,’ she watched Finula’s back tense whilst she was frying eggs, ‘and I’m sorry if I’ve upset you in any way. I promise not to pry in future.’ She saw Finula’s shoulders relax a little.
‘No, Megan, it’s me who should be sorry for snapping at you.’ She turned to face her. ‘Just be careful.’ Megan frowned. ‘Of Nick.’ Then she turned back and carried on cooking.
Well, what was that about? Megan still couldn’t fathom it out. Both Nick and Finula seemed perfectly nice, rounded people, so why couldn’t they see eye to eye? What had gone so wrong between them? Deciding it really wasn’t her problem, or her concern, Megan put it firmly to the back of her mind.
‘Finula, do you think I could have a few less shifts just now? I know it’s short notice,’ she asked warily.
Finula shrugged. ‘Don’t see why not. We’ve no guests for the next few days, apart from Dylan. Just check with Dad. Why? Got anything planned?’
‘Hmm, Tobias has asked me to paint Treweham Hall.’
Finula whisked round, face animated. ‘Really?’
