‘Don’t go without the other parcel,’ said Charlie who seemed to be bursting with some mysterious joke. ‘It’s here, in the waiting room. ’Tis a big ’un.’
‘Right.’
Freddie pushed open the varnished door. The room was empty except for a young woman who stood with her back to him looking at a poster on the wall. Her hair was shoulder length, thick and glossy, and she wore a summer dress with emerald greens and touches of red, and a velvet bottle-green jacket. She stood with her feet neatly together in smart black shoes and stockings with straight seams.
Freddie stood there, frozen, and the door creaked shut behind him. The young woman swung round, and the room filled with light.
‘Kate! My Kate!’
Freddie went to her quietly and stood basking in her smile. She was laughing.
‘How’s this for a parcel?’ She twirled around and stood still again, gazing up into his eyes. ‘It’s lovely to see you, Freddie. I’d forgotten how tall you are.’
‘You look – radiant,’ said Freddie, trying to detect the sadness in her eyes from losing Ethie. But he saw only sunlight and humour. ‘And very smart,’ he added, suddenly conscious of his own scruffy clothes covered in stone dust and oil. ‘I’m in me working clothes. I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘I LOVE surprises,’ said Kate. ‘And you look fine. You’re a working man, that’s something to be proud of. And guess what? I’m a working girl now. I’ve got a JOB, at Monterose Hospital. I’m going to train to be a NURSE.’
‘Oh well done. So, you’ll be living here then? Where are you going to live?’
‘In the nurses’ home. I’ll have my own room, and we get all our meals, and bed linen, and I shall make lots of friends. The matron’s a bit of a dragon, but we’ll get over that. I’m used to dragons. I’m looking forward to it.’
‘Well – I hope you don’t go all stiff and starchy,’ said Freddie with a twinkle in his eye, and listened in delight to the peal of ringing laughter, a sound he’d missed.
Charlie knocked on the window and peered in cheekily. ‘Told you it was a big ’un!’ he shouted. ‘Now I’m off to taste me cheese.’
‘Was he in on the secret?’ asked Freddie.
‘Yes,’ said Kate, ‘and I brought him a little round truckle of Mummy’s cheese in my bag. He was pleased as punch.’
She chattered on about her journey and the people she had made friends with on the train, and Freddie stood there in a hazy dream, breathing in the loveliness of her presence. It was like standing under a cherry tree in full blossom on a hot day, wrapped in its wordless glory. He imagined being married to her. It would be like being married to a piece of music, he thought, and the haunting song of the golden oriole came into his mind. He wanted to tell her about it – but first –
‘Kate – before we go any further, and I hope you understand what I mean, I need to ask you something.’
‘Go on, then.’ She smiled into his attentive blue eyes, concerned to see anxiety in there.
‘What about – Ian Tillerman?’
‘Oh him,’ said Kate contemptuously. ‘I’m afraid Ian is like a little boy. He went around telling everyone I was his fiancée, and he was lying. When I found out, I told him to go to Putney on a pig.’
Freddie laughed with her, feeling his troubles rolling away like barrels down a hillside.
‘Well now – I’ll tell you something, Kate,’ he said. ‘What do you think I saw this morning? A golden oriole!’
Her mouth fell open.
‘Well I never,’ she said.
‘I bet you don’t believe me.’
Kate looked at him, her eyes full of that searching, caring expression he loved. ‘I do believe you. I’ll always believe you, Freddie,’ she said emphatically. ‘I trust you utterly and completely.’
‘So – you won’t tell me to go to Putney on a pig then?’
‘No. Never,’ she said staunchly, and linked her arm into his. ‘Now, I want you to look at this poster with me. See? It says you can go to WEYMOUTH for a day trip. Shall we go one day? It would be lovely, Freddie. You wait ’til you see the sea.’
Freddie looked at her expectantly, waiting for the next bit, and he wasn’t disappointed.
‘It SPARKLES like DIAMONDS.’
He thought about the diamond ring in its box, hidden under the floorboard, and he could feel it sparkling, coming to life in the dark place. The magic is back, he thought, the magic is back in my life. I’m so lucky.
‘Of course we’ll go,’ he said. ‘We’ve got all the time in the world. And – I might even dig out that poetry book again.’
Annie soon became aware of the difference in her Freddie. He moved around with new energy, he was whistling and singing, and his eyes had changed. They were mysteriously alive now, as if he had found some secret light, and Annie couldn’t help being pleased. She even began to feel better in herself. She had to admit that Kate Loxley had brought a new bright spirit into both their lives. The entrenched anxiety began to crumble, day by day, and her feelings warmed towards the brave, happy girl who was coping with a new life and the rigorous demands of a nurse’s training.
‘What’s Kate’s favourite colour?’ Annie asked Freddie as he was heading out to start the lorry.
‘Red,’ he replied without hesitation. ‘I’ll see you later, Mother – about six.’
Annie stood at the gate watching him drive off in a cloud of dust. ‘Red,’ she thought, and glanced up the hill at the hospital where Kate was working, its windows a soft amber in the afternoon sun. She looked down the road and she could see the wool shop. Her fingers itched to get her hands on some lovely red wool and knit Kate a cardigan. A red cardigan.
She walked inside and looked at herself in the mirror.
‘All your life, Annie Barcussy,’ she said to her reflection, ‘you’ve been standing at the gate expecting other folks to run your errands. Now it’s time you changed.’
She’d vowed never to go out again, yet now she found herself putting on her hat, taking some money from the bakery box, and wrapping her hand around Levi’s walking stick. What would she do if the panic started? She couldn’t be bothered with it. All she could see was the excitement of coming home with a basket of red wool, and a pattern for a cardigan.
Annie opened the gate and stepped out, her basket over one arm, squared her shoulders and walked steadily down the road to the shop.
On a blazing hot Saturday in July, it seemed to Freddie that the whole day was encapsulated in one moment of time. It was like the centre of a sparkle, where all the rays of light converged, focusing the essence of his dreams into one intense minute of pure light.
All day he’d waited for the moment to come. He could think of little else as he and Kate travelled down to Weymouth. They got off the train, walked hand in hand down the street towards the clock tower, and arrived at the promenade railings. Seeing the sea for the first time stunned Freddie into silence. The water heaved and glittered before him like the sequinned gown of an opera singer; it had the same massive, mysterious power as the undiscovered half of his consciousness.
For once, Kate was quiet as she watched his reaction, and waited for him to speak, but he didn’t. He was far away, under the waves, following exotic fish into caves, watching shoals of them catching the light as they twisted and turned.
‘Well, say something!’ Kate prompted him after ten minutes of contemplative gazing.
‘Ah – well – words might spoil it,’ he said. ‘I didn’t expect it to be so blue, well blue-green like a kingfisher. And I didn’t know it would be so vast.’ He pointed at the horizon. ‘That sharp line, ’tis like the blade of a knife. What would I see if I went out there?’
‘France,’ said Kate.
Freddie digested that information as he followed her down some steps to the sand. France had been pink in his geography book at school, and that was all he knew about it.