CHAPTER FOUR.
THE WALK.
A crunch of gravel heralded the arrival of the little Austin. Bel met him at her door.
He looked up at the cottage,
"Very nice." He remarked, "it's another lovely day!"
He was wearing hiking boots, corduroys and a light jacket and had a canvas rucksack with leather straps, slung casually over one shoulder. Bel wore capri pants, a reefer style jacket over a thin blue sweater, with a short scarf tied at her neck, and stout walking shoes, her blonde hair loosely tied with a ribbon.
With Winston on a lead, they headed down through the little harbour town, to where the drop-front ferry pulled in. Tide permitting, it took passengers backwards and forwards to Rock for most of the day. The trip only took 10 minutes and saved an 18 mile round trip by road.
Once on the other side, they set off together along the path through the sand dunes, towards St. Enodoc.
Crossing the golf course, they discovered the little stone church, standing alone, with its slate wall surrounding the graveyard. It was all decked out with flowers, for a recent wedding, an arch of cream roses around the outer door, and inside, small posies at intervals down the walls towards the alter. It was cool and dark and smelled of old books and woodworm, they wandered down the central aisle to the rood screen, before returning and emerging into the sunlight once more.
"What a beautiful little place," Bel breathed, "so tranquil and peaceful...it's like something out of a storybook."
The footpath rose sharply now, up over a rocky outcrop for a couple of miles before dropping down into the small harbour village of Polzeath.
Randall hauled himself up the steep slope, before turning and bracing himself, to lean down and offer his hand to Bel, to scramble up beside him. His long fingers closed around her own little hand, gripping tightly. She was pulled to his side, clinging to his elbow with her other hand, almost finishing in his arms, her face inches from his. For seconds their eyes locked, Bel could feel his breath against her cheek, but he moved backwards to allow her to regain her balance, and the moment passed.
A cafe, with gingham tablecloths and wooden chairs, greeted them as they entered the town.
The hot sun made them thirsty. So they took a seat and waited to be served.
A waitress in a starched white cap and pinny, came to take their order.
Randall glanced up at her,
"Um...a pot of tea for two, I think, please." He said, " and I'd like some buttered toast if you can manage it."
"Of course," the waitress scribbled rapidly on her pad, "and what would your daughter like?" She asked, turning to Bel.
Randall turned scarlet and lowered his head immediately. He was mortified.
Bel fixed the woman with narrowed eyes, she was furious at the assumption, more angry for Randall than herself. They could be any relationship under the sun, why did she say that? It was downright rude, as much as anything else.
Her reply was measured and deliberate...she barely contained the seething rage she felt,
"Oh, now...let me see, I think I'll have the same as my husband. Two rounds of buttered toast please!"
Both the waitress and Randall, shot her a glance, her's one of utter amazement, Randall's a mixture of abject horror but then a trace of amusement.
Bel gave a victorious smile, straight into the girl's face, then reaching across and taking Randall's hand in her own, she said,
"Such a nice choice, dear, coming here, how clever you are." she leaned over to kiss him firmly on the mouth.
Randall was far too stricken by it's suddenness to respond to the kiss, and remained a rigid pole. The waitress, desperately trying to regain her composure, stammered,
"I'll fetch your tea!" and hurried away.
"The utter nerve!" Bel exclaimed, when she was out of earshot, she turned back to Randall, whose fingers were touching his mouth where her lips had just been. His expression one of bemused wonder.
"I'm so sorry, Randall, I didn't mean to startle you, or embarrass you like that, I wouldn't have done it for the world, but she made me so very cross. Please forgive me."
"I suppose if we go about together like this, it's what we should come to expect." He murmured sadly, "but, I must say, it feels much worse than I envisaged."
They spoke no more about it until they were on the footpath out in the open again.
"Randall, can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't wish to, but I'd like to know..."
"Of course,"
"How exactly do you see this? Us, I mean?...I mean, I wasn't going to broach the subject, but, after that debacle, I'm afraid it damn well needs broaching! Are we friends, who enjoy each other's company? Do you look at me and see a daughter...or a niece, or is it something more than that?"
Randall, looked very intently at the rock by his foot, and shuffled nervously, biting his lower lip.
Bel held his arm, and moved in closer to him.
"Well...?" He looked up into her face, "I hope we are friends, certainly. I'm afraid I can't see you as a daughter or anything familial. I have tried, but I can't."
He made to take a step back, but she held him fast.
"Don't make me do this, Bel, I can't say what this is, because I'm too afraid, I'm afraid that what I feel isn't right. I don't know what you want from me, and that makes me afraid too. I want..."
Bel pulled him into her by his jacket lapels. Her lips found his, and this time, he responded. He encircled her with his arms, and drew her closer. His mouth against hers, warm and open, almost hungry.
They broke, both gasping.
"God, you are so beautiful," he whispered," I'm making a complete fool of myself aren't I?"
"No, Randall! You most certainly are not!"
"Is this really what you are looking for Bel? I can't see that it is, it feels so wonderful, but it doesn't feel right, I'm too old for you. We shouldn't do this...we just can't!"
He backed away from her, his face miserable.
Bel did not relinquish her grip.
"Let me tell you something Randall. It's going to be absolute hell. People are going to stare, they are going to make unkind comments. Everyone will look at me, then look at you and tut, and shake their heads. Or they'll look at you, then look at me, say I'm only after your money or a sugar daddy. They'll call you a dirty old man and me a slut who should know better... or worse! Most will hate us. Am I right so far do you think?"
"I think you've probably under stated the case." He replied softly.
"Right! Well, the next question is...do I give a fig for anyone's opinion of me? No, I don't. If I did, I would never have chosen a career in television, where most think I'm sleeping my way upwards! I can face down their derision, and throw it in their faces. Over these months I have grown to like you, Randall. You are kind and thoughtful, you are far more of a gentleman than most young men I've met, who, frankly just want me to go to bed with them! I enjoy your company, I would like to get to know you better, to spend some time with you. What do you think about that?"
Her disarming frankness, rather floored him. But he tried not to show it.
He appeared somewhat emotional, twisting his hands together, and shifting his feet. His voice was so quiet, that it was barely audible...
"I like you too, very much, probably too much. But I can't help that. I would like permission to court you, Bel...properly, as a man should court a woman. I don't want a fling, I've done all that, and it was disastrous, the consequences so far reaching, I'll have to live with it forever. I've seen death and destruction, cruelty and hatred, and I came down here, in an attempt to distance myself from it all, to live alone and be solitary, but it appears that fate has other ideas!"
"What about what others think of us? How would you cope with that?"
"By ignoring it, probably! As I did when people judged me in the past. What I'm more concerned about is this...being with me will be awful, Bel. I'm obsessive and compulsive, I'm moody and prone to melancholy. I don't like large crowds and things young people like, I'm old fashioned and boring. Why on earth would you want to tie yourself to that?"
"Hmmmm, you sound like quite a catch, I must say!"
"Well, Randall, I, in turn, am bossy and controlling, and too pushy by far. I have quite a bad temper and I don't suffer fools gladly. I don't like being told what to do and I hate cooking! There...still interested?"
He laughed then and pulled her towards him again. She laced her arms around his waist, under his jacket, laid her golden head against his chest and gave a deep sigh. She could feel him holding her close, a hand rubbing her back between the shoulder blades. He planted a kiss on top of her head.
"We are both completely and utterly mad." He whispered, "it'll never work, it'll never last, but we can have a hell of a time trying the experiment!"
"Good, that's settled then," she touched his cheek with a gentle caress, "we'll defy the lot of 'em!"
September melted into a cool October and Bel needed to return to London. She and Randall met on half a dozen occasions through the preceding weeks, they walked, or ate together in small local establishments. She visited the lighthouse once, but he seemed to prefer 'neutral ground' now that they were officially a couple.
It was her last night and they had taken the evening water-taxi to Rock, for dinner. Now they were strolling back, her arm linked through his.
"When will I see you?" She asked, the thought of this rural idyll, coming to an end, and the return to dirty, smoky, foggy old London, held very little allure.
"I have my flat, still. I kept it on. I'll come there."
"But when?"
"Next week, if I can sort things out here." He patted her arm, "Don't fret, Bel, it'll only be a few days!"
She huffed, blowing air through her pursed lips.
"Now, don't be petulant, it doesn't suit you. We both knew it wasn't always going to be like this...we have to return to real life eventually."
"Do we though?" She said," I don't see why we do."
"Well, we do for the time being anyway." He replied, " I tell, you what, when I come up next week I'll take you to The Savoy, I'll take you dancing!"
"Really?... I thought you hated crowded places? And anyway...can you dance?"
"Well, I'll put up with it for your sake, and as for the dancing...you'll have to wait and see!"
He chuckled and tightened his arm against hers as they reached the ferry to take them home.