Kitabı oku: «The Inward Storm», sayfa 2

‘Umm. Our dear Rita might be a Cordon Bleu between the sheets, but in the kitchen she’s a real no-hoper!’ They both laughed. ‘By the way,’ Meg added, ‘Rita bought one of the new sweaters. You might not like her,’ she added to Kate, ‘but she’s good for business. We got at least half a dozen sales from the last one she bought. Her father has influential friends all over the Dales, and Rita gets around.’

‘In every sense of the expression,’ Kate agreed sardonically. She would have to ring Kevin to find out exactly what arrangements he was making for this dinner party. She grimaced. Rita couldn’t have been too pleased to discover that Kevin had asked her to be his hostess. Until her arrival Rita had looked upon Kevin as very much a member of her court, and she hadn’t appreciated his defection. Not that she needed to worry. Kevin did nothing for her except as a friend. Jake had called her a delightful little sensualist, but that part of her nature seemed to have died with her love for him, and certainly she doubted that any man would see anything sensual about her now, she reflected, studying her reflection subjectively in the mirror which hung in the shop. Small, barely five foot four, her jeans clinging to hips that were almost boyishly slim, accentuating the fullness of breasts Kate had always privately thought too full. Her face, free of make-up, was almost triangular in shape, her eyes large and slightly almond-shaped, a dark, dense sapphire colour, oddly exotic in the creamy pallor of her skin. With her chestnut hair tumbling down round her shoulders she looked closer to eighteen than the twenty-four she would be next month, and Lyla would have a fit if she could see the way she was dressed. Her aunt had always insisted on her wearing sophisticated and expensive clothes. That was one thing she could say about Lyla, she had never stinted when it came to money. Why, the wedding dress she had bought her …

Kate heaved a sigh. She was dwelling far too much on the past. It wasn’t good for her, especially when she had vowed to put it all behind her. But Jake had been furious about that dress she couldn’t help remembering, saying it was far too sophisticated for her, and demanding to know why pale peach when she had every right to wear white? She could remember how worried she had been, worried about offending Lyla and worried because Jake was so annoyed. She had told him she was still a virgin the day he proposed to her, or rather he had proposed after she had told him. And that in itself ought to have been a warning, only she had been too bemused to see it. According to his views he had probably been doing the honourable thing, marrying her instead of merely making love to her, but in the long run it would have been kinder simply to have taken her innocence, initiated her into womanhood and then gone … kinder and far less painful than a marriage built on desire on one partner’s side and infatuation on the other. Even while adoring him she had resented him, Kate reflected, savouring the knowledge, knowing she had never realised it before. She had resented him for inhabiting a world which was still barred to her, for being adult and experienced, for controlling her as though she were a wooden puppet on a string, for eliciting responses from her body she hadn’t known they could feel … the list was endless.

‘Kate, phone,’ Meg called. ‘It’s Kevin. He wants to talk to you.’

‘It’s all fixed, Kate,’ Kevin told her. ‘Next Wednesday, if that’s okay with you. I spoke to Harvey myself. He seems quite a pleasant sort, but extremely decisive … Kate? Are you still there?’

Part of her was, Kate thought numbly, the rest was still trying to come to terms with what Kevin had just said. ‘Did he … do you know his first name?’ she croaked.

‘His first name?’ Kevin sounded puzzled. ‘Oh yes, let me see. It’s Jay … or …’

‘Jake,’ Kate supplemented, having known the answer long before Kevin gave it. It was too much of a coincidence to expect another man in Jake’s field to share his surname.

‘Yes, that’s right … heard of him, have you?’ Kevin chuckled. ‘I’ve warned him about you. Our anti-nuclear firebrand!’ Her palm was moist where it came into contact with the phone. ‘By name?’ she managed through a dry aching throat, ‘or merely by reputation?’

‘Oh, by name,’ Kevin told her. ‘He wanted to know who his fellow guests were to be.’

‘Yes, he would, and that meant that she could hardly back out now. How he would gloat if she did, knowing that she had preferred flight to fight. Dear God, Jake here! How could it have happened? How could the fates have chosen with such fine irony, destroying the fragile shell she had built for herself? Was Jake planning to turn Ebbdale into a missile storehouse? Her lip curled bitterly. This time she wouldn’t let him toss aside her arguments and destroy all her objections. This time she would show him … And she would start by hostessing Kevin’s dinner. She would show Jake that he couldn’t exert any power over her any longer. She was free and she was adult. Ex-husbands and wives met on countless of thousands of occasions these days; there was nothing of any note in it.

It was only as she replaced the receiver that the final irony struck her. Rita’s fabulous new man was her husband. So why did she feel more like howling than laughing? And Jake, what was he feeling right now? Nothing, she assured herself tartly, she knew enough to know that in fact he was probably deriving sadistic amusement from the potential of the situation. He must have known she was up here. Lyla would have told him, just as she had kept her informed of his movements. Poor Lyla, for all the fact that she had been married so often herself she had never ceased to try and get them back together, but she had ignored all her well-meaning hints, and presumably Jake had done the same. The last she had heard about him was that he was working in the States, and she had half expected that he would make his life out there. Perhaps he had found the powerful pressure of the American lobbying groups too much for him, she thought grimly, wondering as she did so if she wasn’t being a little too sanguine. Nothing would be too much for Jake; he was tough and he was enduring, and he would relish the conflict.

Just for a moment she contemplated flight, but the moment was quickly gone. She had built a life here, she would still be here when Jake had gone on to the next prestige appointment. She would not be panicked into flight. Woolerton was now her home, she was accepted, she had friends; tolerant, kind friends who even when they didn’t share her views permitted her to express them, and listened politely, friends who didn’t dismiss her as a fractious child, and she wasn’t giving them up because of Jake!

CHAPTER TWO

KATE SHOPPED for Kevin’s dinner party with special care, telling herself that it was quite natural that she should want to impress, but refusing to admit that it was Jake the man her efforts were aimed at and not Jake Harvey, Director of the Nuclear Power Station.

Two other couples had been invited, and Rita, and Kate wasn’t entirely surprised when the other girl called into the shop and dropped casually into the conversation the fact that Jake was collecting her.

‘I hope you’ve got something decent to wear, darling,’ she murmured when she left. ‘I’ve told Kevin to make it formal. We don’t get enough opportunities to dress up in these benighted parts. He tells me he’s taking you to the Hunt Ball?’ She smiled and inspected her nails, almost purring with pleasure as she drawled, ‘Jake’s taking me. Daddy always makes up a party and of course we’ll be going with them. He’ll be spending the night with us of course.’

For ‘us’ read ‘me’, Kate thought cynically when Rita had gone. Really, it was almost farcical; there was Rita telling her that she intended spending the night with Jake, not realising that Jake was her husband. Not that she cared who he spent his nights with. She had once, though. Dear God, the pangs of jealousy she had endured, too insecure and vulnerable to deceive herself that Jake cared for her alone, every beautiful woman who glanced at him was a potential rival, and many had glanced at him, and more.

Kevin’s father had been Woolerton’s doctor before him and his house, which was simply referred to as ‘the doctor’s house’, was a foursquare Victorian building just off the High Street, a brick wall enclosing the lawned gardens. The house was still furnished as it had been during Kevin’s grandparents’ time and he had given Kate carte blanche as far as the dinner party was concerned. It wasn’t the first time she had cooked for him, and Mrs MacDonald, who came in to do his cleaning, promised to wash and iron the damask tablecloth Kate unearthed and to help polish the Victorian silver.

‘Got some lovely things, the doctor has,’ she sighed as she and Kate worked together in the old-fashioned kitchen. ‘Wasted on a man, they are.’ A speculative glance followed the words, but Kate didn’t rise to the bait, and with another sigh, this time one of disappointment, Mrs MacDonald returned to her polishing.

Rather appropriate for a sheep-rearing area, Kate had decided to serve rack of lamb with the accompaniment of a special sauce she had discovered in one of Kevin’s grandmother’s cookery books. The first course was to be melon sorbet, made with a puree of the fruit of the melon and cream which was then frozen to the texture of ice cream. She had also decided to serve a fish course and had opted for fresh salmon. To follow the rack of lamb there would be chocolate soufflé which she knew Kevin loved and some delicate meringue swans which looked attractive but which were relatively simple to make. A cheese board and a selection of fresh fruit would take care of those guests who eschewed a sweet finale to their meal.

Kevin’s other guests were the Master of the local Hunt and his wife, who were also the largest local landowners; a pleasant couple whom Kate had met on several occasions and whose company she enjoyed, and a friend of Kevin’s from York, a barrister who had been at Cambridge with him, and whom Kate had met only once previously but also liked. His wife was an interior designer and they had turned their backs on London to return to Yorkshire. Like Kate, Lisa Flemming was a keen anti-nuker, to use the American term. All of them knew that she had been married and was separated, but none of them, not even Meg, knew who her husband was. Kate had wondered if she ought to tell Kevin, but although they were good friends there was no romantic involvement between them, and the knowledge that she and Jake were man and wife was embarrassing enough without extending that embarrassment to anyone else. After all, Jake was hardly likely to bring it up; not if he was escorting Rita, who presumably believed him to be ‘free’ and ‘available’.

Because she was preparing the meal, Kate decided it would be as well to change into her evening clothes at Kevin’s. The large Victorian house had any number of spare bedrooms, and when she arrived with her case on Wednesday morning, Mrs MacDonald expressed benevolent approval. ‘You can use the room next to the doctor’s. It used to be his parents’, and it’s got its own bathroom. Makes no sense rushing back to that shop to get changed and then risking getting a chill.’

It was a particularly cold day, autumn already giving way to winter several weeks too early. Most of the trees were denuded of their leaves, but Kate had grown used to the brief Northern springs and summers, both all the more poignantly lovely because of their brevity. As she had promised, Mrs MacDonald had paid special attention to the drawing room and dining room. Kevin rarely used them except when he was entertaining, and Kate was glad she had had the foresight to suggest that he turned their radiators on at the beginning of the week. Both rooms had working fires, and both were laid ready to be lit. The flowers she had ordered from the nearby town had also arrived, russets and bronzes to tone with the gold and green of the traditional dinner service she and Mrs MacDonald had unearthed. It was lunchtime before they had finished, the polished mahogany table gleaming under its weight of silver and crystal, Kate’s floral arrangement the single note of colour on the damask cloth.

‘Looks a rare fine sight, it does,’ Mrs MacDonald approved, when she came in with a silver salver of sherry glasses. ‘He’s a lucky man, is the doctor, having you to do all this for him. There’s many as wouldn’t have bothered for all that they think themselves the bee’s knees,’ she added disparagingly, and Kate hid a small grin. She was well aware of the enmity which existed between Rita and Kevin’s cleaner. Rita was a great believer in people keeping to their place, which she invariably considered to be beneath hers, and Mrs MacDonald was not a lady who took lightly to being condescended to.

At seven o’clock Kate pulled off her apron with a tiny relieved sigh and went upstairs to luxuriate in the relaxing warmth of her bath. Kevin had just returned, later than expected, and he too was changing. Some impulse she wasn’t anxious to examine too carefully had prompted Kate into being generous with the perfume she had poured into her bath. A new one for her, ‘Opium’, which Lyla had sent her for Christmas, in a lavish coffrette which included body lotion, perfume and talc. As she stepped into the bedroom wrapped in her towelling robe her feet left damp imprints on the carpet, and as she glanced at her watch she was dismayed to see how long she had lingered in the bathroom.

‘Kate, are you decent? I can’t fix this damned bow tie,’ she heard Kevin mutter impatiently outside her door. ‘Can’t think why Rita insisted on all this formal gear …’

‘I expect she’s got a new dress she wants to show off,’ Kate told him lightly as she opened her door, her mouth creasing in a humorous smile as she surveyed Kevin’s harassed features. His mousy hair stood on end and his dinner suit, although well fitting made him look ill at ease. Kevin looked best in the ancient tweed jacket and casual trousers he wore for doing his rounds.

‘Come and stand over here under the light,’ Kate instructed him, following him as he walked towards the head of the stairs. ‘Now I can see what I’m doing.’ Because she was not particularly tall, it was still necessary for Kate to stand on tiptoe to reach upwards to fiddle with the intricate fastening of Kevin’s bow tie. She was just on the point of succeeding when they heard the doorbell.

‘Damn,’ Kevin swore, and swivelled his head automatically, undoing all Kate’s careful handiwork. ‘It’s only quarter to eight! Who the devil …’

Mrs MacDonald, who had expressed a formidable determination to stay and as she put it ‘help with the siding away’, bustled into the hall and called out to Kate, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get it.’ She opened the door, and Kate’s heart sank as she heard Rita’s familiar shrill voice.

‘Oh no, I’m sure you’re wrong,’ she was saying. ‘I know Kate told me seven-thirty …’ She paused on the threshold, peering round with extravagant bewilderment. Damn her, Kate thought grimly. She knew Rita of old, and she had no doubts at all that her early arrival was designed to cause an upset, but she had succeeded way, way, beyond her wildest dreams, Kate acknowledged dazedly as she looked down into the hall and her eyes meshed with the icy grey ones of the man who had followed Rita inside. Had he always been so tall? Six foot two, she remembered, and the fact that she was looking down at him ought to have diminished him, but it didn’t. He hadn’t changed at all, unless it was to look harder, more determined than ever, and the cold scrutiny in his eyes relayed its own brutal message as he studied the untidy knot of hair on top of her head, down along the curves of her body disguised by the robe she was wearing … down … down until Kate felt her toes curling into the carpet beneath the protection-stripping acidity of that scrutiny.

‘Kate darling, what on earth are you doing?’ If anyone could lace arch suggestiveness with coy innocence it was Rita, Kate thought, gritting her teeth.

‘Fixing Kevin’s bow tie,’ she replied coolly, ‘but now that you’re here perhaps you would like to do it for me, while I get ready.’

‘Oh, but of course, darling,’ Rita all but purred. ‘Poor you … did something go wrong, or …’ Her glance slid sideways from Kate’s set face to Kevin’s unaware one …’or did we arrive at a bad time?’

‘You’re early,’ Kevin told her. ‘You weren’t supposed to be here until eight, and I got back late.’

‘But, darling, you’re ready,’ Rita pointed out slyly. ‘Kate’s been here all day, and she isn’t. Having problems, Kate?’

‘Not really.’ She forced herself to smile calmly. ‘Drinks are ready in the drawing room, Kevin. I shan’t be long …’ She paused by the door to her room.

‘Staying the night, are you?’ Rita enquired. ‘Oh, don’t be shy with me, darling,’ she added sweetly, ‘we’re all adults here, although I can well understand why Kevin put you in a separate room. Mrs Mac, Kevin’s cleaner, is a regular pillar of the Church,’ she explained to Jake, adding, ‘Oh, Jake, poor darling—I haven’t introduced you yet, have I? This is Kevin, your host, and …’

‘Let’s let poor Kate get dressed before anyone else arrives,’ Kevin suggested, interrupting Rita hastily. ‘Sorry about this, Harvey,’ Kate heard him apologising to Jake as she closed her bedroom door. ‘It’s all Rita’s fault, if she hadn’t insisted on this damned formal dress …’

She couldn’t stay here cowering away all night, Kate told herself shakily, hardly able to bear to face her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a child who had been beaten. Defeat lay starkly at the back of her eyes, her skin as pale as skimmed milk. She stared at the dress hanging on the back of the door. She had bought it on a mad impulse in London. Matt black silk, it was American, Calvin Klein, with long tight sleeves and a neckline that dipped almost to the waist at the front, where the silk was caught up in a soft knot, the skirt of the dress caught up in the same way, so that it revealed the slender length of her thighs when she moved. It clung so tightly to her skin that all she could wear beneath it was a pair of fine silk panties. The choker of pearls Lyla had given her as a wedding present did little to make the dress appear more modest, but in reality it revealed far less of her body than Rita’s rustling boned-bodiced taffeta. But it was the way it hinted at what wasn’t revealed that made it a dress designed by a man for a woman with his own sex in mind, Kate reflected as she brushed her hair and let it settle round her shoulders in a heavy cloud, knowing there wasn’t time to do anything else with it. Black high-heeled satin sandals, and the careful application of enough make-up to give her a gloss of colour, completed her preparations, tiny diamond ear studs winking in her ears when she moved and the chestnut curls drifted languorously against her shoulders.

Instead of joining the others in the drawing room she went straight to the kitchen to check on the meal. The vegetables were all prepared ready for cooking when everyone had arrived. Heaving a faint sigh of relief that everything was under control, Kate walked unsteadily into the hall, smoothing slightly damp palms against her hips as she took a deep breath and walked into the drawing room. Conversation stopped. Out of the corner of her eye Kate was aware of Rita regarding her with barely concealed chagrin, Jake at her side, his enigmatical grey glance slicing towards her, warning her that he was not deceived; that he knew she was still the vulnerable child she had always been, despite the trappings of womanhood she was now able to assume.

‘Kate … Kate, you look magnificent,’ Kevin muttered, plainly stunned by her appearance.

‘My dear, you did go overboard, didn’t you?’ Rita said nastily. ‘Did you go down to London especially to buy it? You should be honoured, Jake,’ she told her companion. ‘Kate’s normal attire is jeans and an ancient woolly jumper. Kate runs our local craft shop.’ She made it sound as though she had straws stuck in her hair, Kate thought irefully. ‘She’s also a fantastic cook, unlike poor little me!’ Rita batted her eyelashes winsomely.

‘I bought the dress in London, the last time I went to New York,’ Kate interposed coolly. ‘Another sherry, Rita? You prefer sweet, don’t you?’ Heavens, what was getting into her? Kate wondered. She was being nearly as bitchy as Rita. Fortunately the doorbell rang before the situation could deteriorate any further, and as luck would have it Lisa and Richard had arrived at exactly the same time as the Crabtrees.

‘Kate, this melon is delicious,’ Mary Crabtree enthused when they were halfway through the first course. ‘I’ve never tasted anything like it. By the way, I’ve made Alan promise to buy me one of your lovely jumpers for Christmas, and I mean to make sure he does,’ she added, smiling at her husband. ‘Kate designs the most beautiful jumpers,’ she told Jake who was seated on her right. ‘She sells them in London and New York and has a regular circle of knitters working for her in Ebbdale.’

‘She’s also absolutely anti your power station, darling,’ Rita cut in bitchily. ‘I swear she’d have us all dancing around it like those Greenham Common women if she could, wouldn’t you, Kate?’

‘It’s no secret that I disapprove of missiles being based in this country,’ Kate agreed smoothly, her eyes meeting Jake’s down the length of the table. ‘I’m a firm believer in multilateral disarmament, and I’m sorry if you don’t approve of that, Mr Harvey.’

‘Are you?’ Jake challenged softly. Everyone’s attention seemed to be riveted on her, Kate realised, and she could sense that Rita was furious at this turn of events. Kate knew quite well that the only reason Rita had mentioned her anti-nuclear stance was to draw it to Jake’s attention, not to make Kate the centre of everyone else’s.

‘Well, I for one admire and agree with Kate,’ Lisa was saying. ‘Oh, I know you don’t agree with me, Richard,’ she silenced her husband, ‘but the thought of what could happen if a reactor went wrong gives me the shivers, and I can’t believe that adequate precautions are taken with the transport of nuclear waste. You only have to read the papers …’

‘Yes,’ Kevin broke in eagerly, ‘that’s one aspect of nuclear power that worries me, and it’s one I wanted to bring up with you, Jake. During your predecessor’s time we campaigned hard to tighten up the safety standards, but Henry was a bit of a diehard … Please don’t think we’ve dragged you here tonight to bombard you with arguments and persuasion but if you could spare the time to talk with me about the safety standards …’

‘I am always interested in discussions that could lead to an improvement in that quarter,’ Jake surprised Kate by saying smoothly. ‘In fact at the station I’ve been working on in the States, we found there was a marked decrease in antipathy towards nuclear power once we invited the local people in to see how it works. We ran several tours, gave talks, asked them for their views and thoughts, and set up a working committee comprised of some of our staff and the locals … and you mustn’t lose sight of the fact that these stations often bring work to areas of high unemployment …’

‘Work, ill health and the potential for death,’ Kate interrupted bitterly. He was mesmerising them with his voice, with his reasoned arguments and calm approach, but she wasn’t deceived, not for a moment.

‘That’s a typically female and if you’ll forgive me, rather hysterical reaction,’ Jake countered coolly. ‘Coal mining, engineering, and many other forms of employment are hazardous, but I’ve yet to see a bunch of hysterical women gathered round a pithead screeching for it to be closed.’

‘It isn’t just the manner of the work,’ Kate protested. ‘It’s everything that goes with it!’

‘If you mean missiles, that isn’t the purpose of Ebbdale’s station. It’s a nuclear power station only. Missiles are a separate entity, but again I can’t agree with you. They are a deterrent, whichever way you look at it. In a world of perfect human beings we wouldn’t need them, I’d be the first to agree, but unfortunately when Adam bit into that apple, he absorbed more than the mere knowledge of sex; mankind is its own worst enemy. For centuries we’ve systematically destroyed our planet and our environment …’

‘And now you’re prepared to go one step further and destroy it completely!’

‘Not personally,’ Jake assured her grimly. His mouth had tightened and she recognised the icy sparks glittering from the cold grey eyes. He had changed, she thought, watching him. There were the faint beginnings of grey in the matt darkness of his hair, hair she had loved to ruffle beneath her fingers, to stroke as he made love to her. ‘Try looking at the other side of the coin,’ he advised her harshly. ‘Nuclear power could free this planet from starvation and poverty, third world nations …’

‘Can’t wait to build missiles with it,’ Kate interrupted him huskily, ‘people are expendable, power is not!’

‘Oh, Kate, for goodness’ sake,’ Rita interrupted pouting a smile at Jake, ‘poor Jake came here for a meal, not to be harangued. Honestly, darling, you’d better watch it, you’re turning into a fanatic. Kate’s divorced, you know,’ she confided to Jake, making Kate feel sick inside as she forced herself to look into his implacable face. ‘Poor darling, she does tend to get dreadfully intense at times.’

Kate couldn’t bear to look at Jake. She excused herself stiltedly and rushed into the kitchen, half blinded by the tears of fury she couldn’t suppress. Lisa was behind her, her pretty face pink with sympathy and anger as she closed the kitchen door. ‘What a first-rate bitch Rita is,’ she announced. ‘Personally I’m sure she only did it because she could see how interested Jake was in what you were saying. She’s jealous that she might lose him to you.’

‘There isn’t any danger of that,’ Kate assured her, breathing deeply as she tried to regain control.

‘Oh, I shouldn’t be so sure,’ Lisa argued, helping her to load the heated trolley with the main course. ‘I saw the way he was looking at you, like a very hungry cat faced with a particularly delectable mouse, and Rita saw it too.’

‘Well, she needn’t worry,’ Kate said hardily, ‘He isn’t my type. I prefer men whose compassion isn’t in inverse proportion to their massively inflated male ego!’ She heard Lisa’s indrawn breath, and turned quickly, colour flooding her pale face as she saw Jake standing in the door frame, the look in his eyes telling her that he had overheard every rash word.

‘Ah, Rita was wrong, I see. She seemed to think you had made a bolt for the kitchen to indulge in a fit of feminine tears. As I seemed to have been responsible for causing them I thought it my duty to come and ensure that you weren’t crying saltily into our dinner.’

Kate could tell that Lisa was surprised. She was watching them round-eyed with awe, and Kate supposed that it did seem a highly charged exchange for two people who were only supposed to have met for the first time a couple of hours ago. She wasn’t to know that tears had often been her refuge from the acid lash of Jake’s tongue, during their marriage. She hadn’t cried since he left her, and she certainly wasn’t going to start now.

‘On the contrary, you’ll find your dinner is completely salt-free,’ she told him coolly, ‘it’s far better for one’s health.’

‘Gracious,’ Lisa goggled later when she was helping Kate to remove the main course and bring in the dessert and the cheese, ‘he must have heard every word we said! I can’t think what would have happened if the two of you had been alone.’

‘He’d have strangled me probably,’ Kate admitted with a commendable show of uninterest.

‘Either that or kissed you breathless,’ Lisa agreed.

‘And to think he’s being wasted on Rita! He makes me feel weak at the knees!’ She saw Kate’s hand shake faintly and pounced. ‘Ah, I knew you weren’t as indifferent to him as you seemed. If you want my opinion,’ she added slyly, ‘all that verbal sparring can have only one real conclusion.’

‘Yes,’ Kate agreed, hiding a small smile as she saw the speculation in Lisa’s eyes. ‘One of us is going to run out of words—but I promise you it won’t be me.’

‘Fantastic meal, Kate,’ Alan praised when they had all finished. ‘Kevin is bringing you to the Hunt Ball, isn’t he?’

‘Umm, I asked her last week,’ Kevin confirmed, ‘births and accidents permitting.’ There was general laughter, and Lisa explained to Jake that there hadn’t been a single year when Kevin had managed to stay the entire length of a Hunt Ball, without a call.

‘Do you hunt?’ Alan asked him.

‘I haven’t done, but I do ride.’

‘Well, you’ll have to join us one Saturday.’

‘Don’t forget next Saturday we’ve got a meeting of the Dale Rescue Group,’ Kevin reminded him. ‘Kate, would you take the minutes for us again this time?’

‘I always know winter’s on the way when the Rescue Group starts meeting again,’ Mary sighed. ‘Last year they must have had at least two dozen call-outs over the winter period, mostly from hikers and walkers who simply ask for trouble.’

‘Yes, and we’re one down this year,’ Kevin pointed out. ‘Sid Rowanthorpe has dropped out. He’s coming up for retirement, and he just doesn’t feel he can go on with it, so we’ll have to look round for someone else.’

‘What’s involved exactly?’ Jake asked, and when Kevin briefly explained that they needed an extra team member skilled in climbing and mountaincraft, to act as a stretcher bearer for the more severe accidents, he promptly informed them that he had some experience. ‘I’m not suggesting I’m up to your standards, it’s something I was keen on in my teens, and I’ve spent several holidays in the Alps and the Rockies.’