‘I rather wish I’d been with you today, Jeannie.’ I pulled a stem of long grass, then nibbled the soft white end of it. ‘Just talking about it makes me realize there’s more to a novel than sitting at home writing it.’
‘Couldn’t agree more. What it boils down to, though, is selling books. Readers like meeting authors and Susanna seemed to enjoy herself today. I wish you could have seen her house, Cassie. Just to think of what royalties can buy would make you want to work like a dog.’
‘I’m looking forward to reading her book. I’m curious about the storyline.’
‘Then take my advice and do no such thing! Don’t get another author’s book into your head whilst you’re writing one of your own! Put it in a drawer, then read it when you’ve finished Firedance. Susanna told us she allowed herself little treats for working extra hard. She said she once gobbled five After Eights, one after the other, as a reward for finishing a chapter that had taken ages to get right. It made her seem very ordinary and human.’
‘She’s made an impression on you, hasn’t she, Jeannie?’
‘Mm. Pity I can’t write. I wouldn’t mind ending up like her.’
‘Filthy rich?’
‘Y-yes. But more the way she looks and is. She’s obviously getting on, but it doesn’t show somehow.’
We had reached the top of the rise now, and stood without speaking, to stare. The sun was beginning to go down and there was a hint of chill in the air. It made me remember that in a week it would be September, with autumn not so far away.
‘Have you taken in all you want of the view?’ Jeannie teased. ‘Because I think we should start back. It’s turned quite cold.’
‘Yes, but I’ll come here again with a camera.’
Not that I would need reminding of that one summer at Deer’s Leap. I would always remember it, and wonder who was living there, and worry too about Jack Hunter and that I hadn’t been able to help him find Suzie. How long would he wait at that gate for her? Into forever? It made me swallow hard on the sentimental tears in my throat.
‘Hey! You there!’ I heard the snapping of Jeannie’s fingers under my nose and shook my head clear of the pilot. ‘You were miles away!’
‘Years away, if you must know. Do you realize I’ve got little more than a week to find where the Smiths went when they left Deer’s Leap?’
‘So you were thinking about the pilot again?’
‘Suppose so. It looks as if I’m not going to be able to help him, for all that.’
‘You mean you’ve been serious all along about finding Susan Smith?’
‘I – I’ve wondered about it quite a bit …’
‘Then I don’t understand you, Cassie Johns! I can’t even think you’d waste good writing time chasing after a woman who probably won’t remember Jack Hunter – even if she’s still alive!’
‘She is alive, I know it! And she won’t have forgotten him.’
‘But she could have married someone else, for Pete’s sake! And if she hasn’t, what are you going to say to her, “Excuse me, Miss Smith, but there’s a ghost looking for you!”?’
‘OK, Jeannie! I agree with everything you say and it will be difficult.’
‘But if you find this Susan Smith are all your troubles over? The heck they are! Have you just once stopped to think you can’t take up residence at the kissing gate with an elderly lady, waiting for a ghost to turn up?’
‘We-e-ll, I suppose –’
‘No supposing, Cassie! Jack Hunter is none of your business and neither is Susan Smith! You can’t go poking and prying into things that don’t concern you. Leave it! Take the lid off that one and you don’t know what you’ll find. Nasty wriggling maggots, I shouldn’t wonder!’
‘You’re right, I’ve got to admit it, yet –’
‘Too right I’m right! Say you’ll forget it?’
‘OK! I’ll forget it!’
‘And you really promise, Cassie? You’ll let well alone?’
‘I just said so!’
I stuck my hands in my pockets and whistled to Hector, and it was only when we were manoeuvring ourselves through a kissing gate that didn’t squeak and wasn’t in need of a coat of paint that I knew I had no intention of keeping my promise, even though I might well be taking the lid off a tin of maggots.
Sorry, Jeannie!
We drove to the village next morning and the familiar feeling took me as we neared the straight stretch of road and the clump of oaks. But the airman didn’t show and I was reluctantly glad, because I didn’t want Jeannie messing up our encounter, and she would have.
I parked behind the Red Rose and left her to do the shopping, making for the phone box. Mum seemed pleased to hear from me and straightway asked if Piers had phoned lately.
‘Phoned! He turned up on Thursday, bold as brass!’ I told her what had happened. ‘He left in a huff,’ I finished. ‘I was so mad, the way he got my address!’
‘Mm. Sneaky. Mind, he was always a spoiled child. Maybe you’re well rid of him after all! You’ll be home, next week?’
‘Yes, but I’m not sure when. Is Dad about?’
‘He’s at the bottom of the garden, pricking out lettuces. Take too long to fetch him. I’ll give him your love.’
‘Do that, Mum. Anyway, the card has almost run out! I’ll ring on Wednesday.’
‘Don’t bother. I’ll ring you. Save you going out. Now don’t forget to check the doors and windows at night, and don’t answer the door after dark!’
I put the phone down just as Bill Jarvis walked past to stand at the bus stop, and I smiled at the lady by his side.
‘Now then, Cassie!’ he grinned. ‘How have you been lately? This is our Hilda.’
Hilda held out a hand and said she was pleased to meet me. ‘You’re interested in the Smith lass?’ she said without preamble.
‘Yes, but not in a nosy way,’ I said earnestly. ‘More how it was for people like her in the war. It couldn’t have been very nice, getting thrown out of your home.’
‘A lot about that war wasn’t very nice. Mind, I’ve got to be fair. I found a husband and I wouldn’t have done in the normal course of events. Young men were a bit thin on the ground in Acton Carey before the Air Force came. What do you want to know about Susan Smith?’
‘Nothing in particular – just anything you can tell me, Hilda. What did the RAF do with Deer’s Leap once they’d taken it over? I just can’t believe some man from the Ministry could knock on a door and say the occupants had to get out! There’d be an outcry if it happened now, and protesters everywhere!’
‘Happen so, lass, but when there’s a war on things are a mite different. Weren’t considered patriotic to protest in those days. But it isn’t me you should be talking to about Susan Smith. There were two years’ difference in our ages and that’s a lot when you’re young. Lizzie Frobisher as was would know more about her than me. Those two were close; both of ’em went to Clitheroe Grammar on the school bus every day. They’d be about fourteen when the war started. Lizzie’s dad worked for Mr Ackroyd at the Hall. She married a curate when the war was over.’
‘I see.’ The one person who could tell me about Susan could be anywhere now. ‘Do you know where she went?’