I'm sorry it has taken me a while to update but I've only been able to write in snatches here and there this week due to other commitments. It might take me a while but I never actually stop completely, so I'll try to keep the story moving along.
Chapter Ten
"So what do you make of Woodston?"
Molly licked the ice cream in her hand and stared out to sea. She and Emma had walked across the causeway at low tide about an hour ago. Emma had assured her they had several hours before they needed to consider returning and Joe Spargo would always ferry them across to Northanger if they left it too late. Woodston was a small seaside village with none of the attractions of larger resorts but it was popular with families wanting a quieter holiday and the campsite at Hillview farm was always busy with campers and touring caravans.
Emma's tour of Woodston had only taken half an hour or so and had involved a poke around in the general store which carried the usual mix of groceries, convenience items, an array of tacky souvenirs and a reasonable supply of beach essentials as well as the proverbial buckets and spades, there had been a glimpse of the interior of St Jude's church which was curtailed by imminent preparations for a late afternoon wedding, a perusal of the menu at the Ship Inn and the purchase of an ice cream from the Beachcomber Cafe. They had wandered down to the harbour and were sitting on a bench to enjoy the ice cream in the sunshine and in answer to Emma's question Molly replied truthfully, "It's quiet."
Emma nodded. "At the moment but it's busier in the school holidays."
"So where do you go for some excitement or to do your shopping?" Molly asked thinking it was going to be hard work to keep herself entertained for five or six weeks in a place as small as Woodston.
"Penzance," Emma replied, "But we'd need a lift. It's about ten miles from here."
"Is there a bus?" Molly asked wondering if public transport extended this far into the depths of the countryside.
"Yes," Emma said with a laugh catching Molly's expression. "I suppose we could get the bus into Penzance but I'd better speak to Dad about it first."
Molly said nothing but was surprised that a girl of twenty felt it necessary to ask her father if she could go shopping.
Molly glanced around her and noticed on the other side of the harbour what looked like an old stone warehouse or shed that seemed to have been converted into a shop. There was a sign hanging from a hook outside which was moving gently back and forth in the breeze.
"What's that?" Molly said pointing towards the building.
Emma followed the direction of her finger, "Oh, that's the local pottery I mentioned last night."
She didn't seem inclined to say anymore but Molly was curious. "Can we go and have a look?"
Emma shrugged. "If you want to."
They strolled around the harbour finishing their ice creams before they reached the building. The hanging sign proclaimed it to be 'Penrose Pottery' and in the window Molly could see examples of plates, vases, jugs and dishes in a variety of styles and coloured glazes but nothing like the dinner plates she had seen yesterday. The sign on the door declared that it was open.
"Shall we go in?" Molly asked
Emma hesitated, "I've been in lots of times before but you go ahead." She was about to turn away when the door opened and a man dressed in a clay splattered apron stepped outside. Catching sight of the girls he called, "Emma, is that you?"
Emma looked up. "Hello, Nat. How are you?"
The man smiled and stepped towards her wiping his hands on the apron. "I'm well and you're looking very well too."
Emma smiled faintly and gestured to Molly. "This is my friend, Molly Dawes. She's spending the summer with us on Northanger."
The man turned to Molly and said, "Nat Mortimer. I'd offer to shake hands but as you see…" he held up his clay encrusted fingers as explanation.
Molly laughed, "Nice to meet you but, no offence, you can keep your hands to yourself."
The man appreciated her sense of humour and laughed good naturedly at this remark.
Molly took a good look at Nat Mortimer and decided that he was an older man who definitely hadn't lost his charms with age, quite the opposite, as his boyish good looks had travelled well into maturity and the flowing golden locks of his youth were still in evidence even if they had faded slightly now that he was in middle age. She could imagine he had spent many a summer on the beach as a young man and that the relaxed pace of life in Woodston would be perfect for someone who gave the impression of not following the herd.
"Can I go in and have a look around?" Molly asked.
"Sure, be my guest," Nat replied.
Molly pushed the door open and called to Emma, "Are you coming?"
Emma shook her head. "I've got a bit of a headache, Molly. I think I'll just go and sit down over there." She pointed to a low wall and moved away.
The building had been divided into two areas: a workshop and a display area where the finished goods were set out for sale on simple wooden shelves. There was no one else in the building and Molly wandered around taking a look at everything. Nat headed towards the workshop area but paused on the way to ask Molly, "Do you like pottery?"
"I don't know much about it, to be honest, but this stuff's nice."
Nat hid his amusement at her description. "Thanks."
"Actually," Molly continued, "I saw some really nice plates yesterday. Emma said they were made here."
He nodded. "The dinner service. I remember it well."
"It's quite different to these." She waved her hand around indicating the other wares on display.
"Mrs James commissioned them and she had a very distinctive pattern in mind. As you say, not like anything I normally do but then she was an artist and she had very clear ideas of what she wanted."
"Was that the sort of thing she painted then?" Molly asked thinking of modern art, "I mean, patterns like that."
Nat looked at her in surprise. "Haven't you seen any of her work?"
Molly shook her head. "No, there's nothing in Abbey House anymore."
Nat gazed out the window and idly scratched his head forgetting about the clay on his hands. "I see. Well, she was more traditional in her style. Being here, she liked to paint seascapes and she also did quite a few landscapes of the countryside of southern Cornwall. She was talented and there were definitely buyers for her work." He turned to face Molly. "So there's nothing at Abbey House at all?"
Molly shook her head. "Emma said her father took them all down and put them away. I s'pose he thought it would be too sad to look at them."
"Yes, I suppose so," Nat agreed. He turned back to his work and busied himself with a freshly made vase still sitting on the turntable of the potter's wheel.
A thought occurred to Molly, "You must have seen Mrs James paintings then, when she was alive."
Nat looked up. "Yes, I did see some of them." He paused as if thinking of something and eventually said, "As a matter of fact everything used to be organised differently here because we shared the premises. Part of the showroom you're standing in was a small gallery that Sylvie used to show her paintings. It was popular with holidaymakers and those passing through."
"Oh, I see." It was no wonder, Molly thought, that Nat Mortimer was familiar with the paintings. He'd obviously spent a lot of time looking at them in the past and must have known Emma's mother quite well if they had been sharing business premises.
"What was she like?" Molly asked, "Only Emma hasn't said much and I don't like to ask her…" she trailed off and it was obvious from Nat's expression that he was aware of Emma's past problems.
He gave a wry smile, "She was a force of nature. When she had her heart set on something she simply went after it no matter what. Take those plates for instance. I'd never produced anything like that before and the design was something quite unusual but her mind was made up and she was determined even if they weren't exactly to her husband's taste." This revelation only confirmed Molly's suspicions of the night before and that the General didn't like the dinner service very much.
"She sounds quite a different sort of person to the General, " Molly said thinking of the General's attitude which seemed more rigid and traditional in outlook.
"Oh I don't know about that." Nat paused as if trying to recall what Sylvie James had really been like before saying, "I think she just saw the world through a different lens to the rest of us."
X-X-X-X
The week had passed more quickly than Molly had imagined possible when she first arrived and on the day after the first visit to Woodston, Molly and Emma were able to go into Penzance. The General had business in St Ives but agreed to take a detour and give them a lift into the town after asking them many questions about where they were going, what they were doing and when they would be back. Once he had dropped them off they spent a pleasant few hours wandering around, looking in the shops and enjoying lunch in a cafe. It had been an overcast and windy day but it hadn't mattered as they were busy in town. At the end of the afternoon they caught the bus back to Woodston and sat on the top deck chatting. As they travelled along the coastal road the bus was battered by rough gusts of wind and as Molly stared out at the choppy waters with white-crested waves to her right, Emma's comment during the Sunday lunch in Bath came to mind and Molly said, "I see what you mean, Emma, about how amazing the waves can look on a stormy day."
Emma pulled a face. "Well, this is mild compared to some days here. Believe me; I've seen the weather far worse."
Molly grimaced. "It must be a bit scary when it's really bad."
Emma nodded. "You realise how much we're all at the mercy of nature sometimes. There have been days when we couldn't leave Northanger because of storms."
A gust of wind caught the bus and caused it to veer to the left. Molly shivered. She didn't like the sound of being cut off on the island. "Does that happen often?"
Emma shook her head. "No, not usually in the summer but in the past we used to come down here in the winter as well and that was different. Mum used to come down here all through the year on her own but we could only make it in the holidays."
"Didn't she find it a lonely?" It had surprised Molly to hear Emma speak of her mother but she thought it must be a good sign.
"No, I think she liked it," Emma said. "As I remember she was very independent but with Dad in the army and away a lot I suppose she had to be and of course, she had her painting."
"And now you do, as well, " Molly replied.
Emma looked unsure, "I don't think I'll ever be like her, not if Dad continues to stop me."
Molly remembered something. "Charles said that you did a painting course last year. That's a start isn't it?"
Emma gave a hollow laugh. "A start and an end in one fell swoop."
Molly didn't understand her meaning and it showed in her face.
"That's how I met Francois. Dad agreed to me going on a residential painting course for a week partly because my consultant thought it would be good for me to do something I enjoy. Francois was on the course as well." Emma fell silent and turned her head to look out the window. Molly remembered now that Charles had apologised for mentioning the course to Emma but Molly hadn't realised why he had said that. Emma looked pensive and Molly wondered if the memories had made her sad. She wanted to ask Emma about Francois but felt that she shouldn't. It was obvious that Emma was starting to trust her and the best thing she could do would be to listen and make no comment for now.
Ten minutes later the bus stopped outside the Ship Inn in Woodston and Molly and Emma were the only two passengers to disembark. The wind was blowing strongly into their faces as they descended the slope towards the harbour. They had returned later than they had planned and Molly, seeing the tide obviously coming in but the causeway still above the waterline said, "Looks like we'll need to get our skates on."
Emma shook her head. "No, we shouldn't go across now."
Molly could quite clearly see the stone causeway stretching all the way to the beach on the other side. "It won't take long, surely?"
Emma turned to look at her. "No, sorry Molly, but it's too late. I'll go and ask Joe if he can ferry us over. Dad gives him an allowance for fuel. He won't mind."
Molly stood and watched Emma walk round to the cottage, knock at the door and then talk to a middle-aged lady who had answered. She assumed from a similarity in her looks and manner that she was Pauline, Hannah's mother. They had the same fresh-faced, complexion and easy-going manner. After a minute or two Joe appeared, pulling on his coat. He was smiling and didn't appear the least put out at being summoned at short notice. Molly turned back to look at the island and almost gasped in astonishment. The causeway had disappeared below the waves in the few minutes it had taken for Emma to walk round to the Spargo's house. When she returned with Joe, Molly said nothing but was thankful that Emma had known better.
It only took five minutes for the little boat to cross the choppy stretch of water for which Molly was grateful as once they reached the open water the wind felt very strong and the rising and falling of the boat was unpleasant. Joe landed them at a small jetty near the slipway and by the time they had reached the track up the hill to Abbey House they could already hear the outboard motor puttering away in the distance as he made his return journey. The track was steep but they were in the lee of the hill and at least the wind was no longer in the their faces but as they reached the front door, the General emerged and Molly could tell at once that he was not pleased.
"Emma, I think you might have called me to let me know you would be late. It's almost six o'clock and I expected you back an hour ago."
Molly felt sorry for Emma who looked anxious. She wasn't a child and although she understood that the General had concerns for her, this was ridiculous. Molly intervened.
"I'm so sorry, General James. It's my fault. I was trying on clothes and made us late leaving and then we got chatting on the way back and I didn't give Emma a chance to call you. I've had a really nice day today and Emma's been so patient and kind putting up with me." She did her best impression of a winning smile and hoped it would defuse the situation.
The General paused and looked from one to the other before saying in a quieter voice, "Well, you're here. Dinner is ready so please come along."
He turned and walked back into the house and Emma couldn't help smiling and raising her eyebrows at Molly in a gesture that clearly told her she had won on this occasion, however, Molly wasn't sure how many time she would be able to play the 'guest' card before the General ceased to mind his manners in her presence.
X-X-X-X
"Charles called and said he'll be arriving at about one o'clock. He asked if we'd like to meet him for lunch in Woodston and I said 'yes'. Is that OK?"
It was Saturday and Emma and Molly were eating a late breakfast. The General had eaten earlier and headed out first thing to catch the low tide and drive to a charity event in Truro. He would be gone for most of the day leaving the girls to enjoy a rare leisurely start to the day. Consequently, they were sitting in the kitchen still wearing their pyjamas and enjoying the relaxed 'weekend' feel to the day that was never entirely possible when Emma's father was present.
Molly suppressed a smile. She already knew that Charles was planning to meet them for lunch. During the four days they had been here, Charles had called Molly three times, each time ostensibly to check that she was settling in and feeling happy with the arrangements. He had called her last night just before she was going to bed to suggest the lunch plan and she had readily agreed. Munching a piece of toast, she nodded and said, "That'll be nice."
Emma nodded, "Yes. It'll be a bit like old times with the three of us here."
Molly wondered for a moment where the old saying 'three's a crowd' featured but no one could ever accuse Emma of crowding anyone out. The friendship between them was genuine and growing in strength by the day. Molly had never had a friend like Emma before and she valued her as much as she valued the friendship and growing attraction between herself and Charles. She wasn't quite sure how it had all begun but she was certain that it existed and the thought of his imminent arrival set butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Emma glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, "We'd better hurry or we'll get stuck here or worse still, we'll have to take the boat." She laughed, "You really don't want to experience that. Dad made Joe instruct us all in how to use the boat but I try to avoid it if I can." She shuddered at the thought and wandered upstairs to get dressed whilst Molly glanced out of the window to take a look at the sky. It looked like it would be a nice day. The strong winds of the last two days had died down and although there were fluffy white clouds in the sky there were also plenty of patches of blue. The sun was shining every so often and she felt sure by afternoon it would be lovely. She had the green top with her that she had bought in Bath. It was a good colour for her and she decided to put it on. She wanted to look her best.
X-X-X-X
In all the excitement of being in Bath and then receiving the invitation to Northanger, Molly had forgotten that it was her sister Bella's birthday on Monday and at the very least she needed to send her a card. She and Emma had arrived at the Ship Inn in good time to meet Charles and after Emma had found a table to sit at overlooking the harbour, Molly wandered down to the general store remembering that they had a selection of birthday cards. The choice wasn't very good. Bella was going to be thirteen and, there being nothing really suitable for a teenager, she chose what she considered the least worst option; a pair of cartoon cats. It's the thought that counts she told herself imagining Bella's pained grimace when she opened the card. She bought a stamp, wrote and addressed the card and posted it in the mail box glad that she had remembered in time.
As she hurried back in the direction of the Ship Inn a hundred yards away to her left she heard the clock on St Jude's church strike one. To her surprise the road was quite busy today as it was a weekend and she had to wait for a break in the traffic to cross to the other side. Reaching the Ship Inn, Molly turned the corner heading for the entrance to the bar from the car park and stopped in her tracks. A car had just parked in the far corner. There were only a few spaces remaining given the lovely weather and the fact it was lunchtime on a Saturday in summer. She recognised the car and a smile flew involuntarily to her lips. Charles must have received Emma's text message to say where they were and he was parking up with the intention of coming to find Molly and his sister in the bar. Not wanting to look as if she had been lying in wait, Molly hung back intending to stroll nonchalantly in his direction in a moment or two. She just needed to get the timing right.
Charles got out of the car and stretched his arms out in front of him. He rolled his shoulders slightly and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand to ease away the stiffness of the drive from Bath. He looked relaxed in low slung jeans with his shirt sleeves rolled up in the warm weather. He turned and reached inside the car for what looked like his wallet before shutting the door and turning to walk towards the pub. Molly poised herself ready to walk towards him already anticipating greeting him and the smile that she hoped would cross his face when he saw her. She took one step in his direction and then heard the creaking hinges of the bar door opening and someone coming out the other way. She froze. Hannah strolled out into the car park carrying some cardboard boxes obviously heading in the direction of the recycling skips located there. She and Charles caught sight of each other at the same moment. Molly could see the surprise rapidly followed by a broad smile that lit up his face. Hannah was equally surprised, raised a hand and called, "Charles!" She strolled towards him, smiling and calling out, "How are you?"
Charles was nodding and saying something in reply but Molly didn't hear what it was because on reaching Charles, Hannah dropped the boxes on the ground and to Molly's surprise threw her arms around him and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. He looked surprised but not unhappy at the welcome and as Hannah stepped back Molly noticed that his hand was still resting lightly on her waist. Hannah was talking animatedly and they both laughed at some remark. Molly thought she could read the words, "It's been such a long time," on his lips and then to Molly's astonishment Hannah reached out with the fingers of her right hand and stroked his cheek. He smiled and caught her hand, lowering it from his face and saying something. She nodded and then stepped away and picked up the boxes. She took a few steps backwards and called, "I'll catch you later," before turning in the direction of the skips. Molly saw a sharp intake of breath from Charles which he then slowly released as if he was trying to calm himself or bring his feelings under control. He glanced in Hannah's direction again but she was still busy. Without another word he set off towards the bar but Molly fancied that he was frowning now.
Molly stood back out of the way and waited for Charles to go into the bar. The last thing she wanted was for him or Hannah to see her lurking here looking as if she was spying, eavesdropping or both. She stood with her back to the wall and waited for Hannah to leave too.
Molly felt strangely cheated. She had been anticipating the look on Charles face when they met again and waiting to see his smile cast in her direction and only for her. She knew she was being stupid to think like this but she hadn't imagined him looking at someone else that same way. She'd heard all the comments and remarks from the General about Charles and Hannah's friendship or whatever it might have been in the past but she'd managed to put that aside. Charles had called her several times in the last week and she'd been eagerly anticipating his arrival but Hannah had unconsciously scuppered the moment by displaying that ease and familiarity again that Molly lacked. She couldn't imagine hugging and kissing someone the way Hannah had just done after such a long absence. Emma had told Molly that it must have been five years at least since they had all seen Hannah and yet she was still perfectly at ease with Charles. For a horrible, suspicious moment Molly wondered if that was really the case. Who was to say that Charles hadn't been in contact with Hannah much more recently?
"Just stop it, "she said aloud for her own benefit shaking her head as if to rid herself of the thoughts. Hearing the words out loud somehow helped. She was sure that Charles liked her from comments he had made and looks he had given her but beyond holding her hand once at Harry's party on that ill-fated night, and having a couple of friendly phone conversations with her this week there wasn't enough to suggest he was about to throw himself at her feet. She almost laughed out loud at that thought. That was definitely one of her Nan's expressions and nothing like the way things really were between them.
Molly had known from the start that Charles wasn't like other men she'd met so it was hardly surprising if she didn't understand the way his mind worked. The Charles and Hannah's of this world were perfectly comfortable, hugging, kissing and being overly familiar with each other. It didn't mean the same in this world as it did in hers. She told herself she was being ridiculous, took a deep breath, walked across the car park and reaching the door to the bar, opened it and went in.
X-X-X-X
Charles looked around the bar and quickly spotted Emma sitting at a table next to the window overlooking the harbour. She was on her own and reading a book. He made a circuitous route through the dining room so that he could sneak up on her and he got the reaction he was hoping for when he peered over Emma's shoulder at the book and made her jump and squeal. She stood up, laughing in relief and hugged him saying, "I should thump you, really."
"Brave words, little sister. But remember, you're dealing with a trained killer."
"Ladykiller would be a better description," Emma remarked. "Talking of which, do you know who's working here?"
Charles glanced in the direction of the bar. "Yes, I happened upon her in the car park. A bit of a turn up for the books."
"It certainly is, " Emma said, "I didn't think she'd ever come back here."
Charles gave her a long look and sitting down opposite her chose to change the subject. "Where's Molly?"
"She just popped out for something," Emma said vaguely. "She said she wouldn't be long."
"How's she enjoying Northanger?"He already knew what Molly thought about it from their phone conversations, but guessed that Molly wouldn't have mentioned them to his sister.
"I think she likes it, although she seems much more relaxed when Dad's not around." They exchanged knowing looks and Emma added, "I suppose that's understandable."
Charles looked towards the island. He couldn't blame Molly for feeling anxious around his father. She was in good company. Plenty of others were intimidated by him. "Oh, well, I hope you told her his bark's worse than his bite."
It was Emma's turn to give Charles a long look before she said quietly, "Is it?"
Before he could respond, Charles' attention was caught by movement to his right and turning his head he saw Molly enter the bar and at once he felt his spirits lift. When Molly caught sight of him she smiled and looked a little self-conscious. He stood up to greet her and to her astonishment stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. She was conscious of the pressure of his hands upon her and for a second she was transported back to the night of the party and thought fleetingly of sitting close to him in his old sports car but then she remembered her thoughts just now seeing him with Hannah and told herself not to make too much out of it. It was a friendly gesture and that was all. She stepped away and sat down next to Emma.
"Did you have a good journey?"
He nodded. "Yes but the journey's end is much better especially today." Molly assumed he was talking about the weather and nodded in agreement.
"So, what have you been up to?"
Molly shrugged, "This and that, you know." She'd already told him in the phone calls and wondered if he was teasing her which wasn't entirely fair in the circumstances. She turned the question around. "What about you?"
He caught her eye and shrugged. "This and that, you know."
Emma dug her brother in the ribs. "Stop it!"
Charles said innocently, "Stop what?"
"Stop treating Molly the same way you treat me," Emma implored with a laugh. "Have some respect, she's not your sister."
He slowly nodded his head and a look of mock seriousness crossed his face. "I'm well aware of that and I'll try to keep it in mind."
"Don't just try," Emma countered, "Promise."
Charles smirked. Emma probably had no idea how easy that would be. He winked at Molly. "Absolutely. Officer and a Gentleman and all that."
Molly felt her earlier resolutions starting to waver. Surely, she wasn't wrong about Charles and the way he was looking at her now did mean something. It wasn't just politeness. She smiled back at him and he held her gaze for a few seconds. She found herself absurdly wanting to laugh for no good reason and realised it was just nerves but he looked as if he felt that way too.
"Can I take your order?" Hannah's voice cut into the moment. She was standing next to the table with a pen and pad in her hand.
Charles looked startled and turned his head to look at her. "Sorry, we haven't had a chance to look at the menu yet, Hannah."
"Oh, no worries," she replied, "I'll give you some more time." She was about to turn away when she added, "How long are you down here for Charles?"
He looked up again. "Two weeks."
She nodded slowly, "I don't suppose I could twist anyone's arm to help me out with something this week, could I?" she grimaced, "It's just that I quite rashly offered to organise the Ship's entry to the Carnival float competition for next weekend and I'm a bit short handed and running out of time. I really could do with some assistance in the artistic department," she glanced at Emma meaningfully, "And a few muscles would be handy too." That look was reserved for Charles.
"I suppose that makes me chief cook and bottle washer, then," Molly added wanting to make a joke of it but determined not to be left out. Her reward was seeing Charles smile at the remark.
Hannah turned to her, "Everyone's help would be really welcome, Molly. Whatever you can do would be appreciated." Her expression was open and friendly but Molly wondered if she meant it.
Emma was the first to respond, "I don't mind, Hannah, but what's the theme?"
"Myths and legends of Cornwall, but we've drawn the best one," Hannah paused dramatically, "King Arthur."
Molly could see Emma's mind starting to turn over ideas already and she said, "That's good. I'll sketch out a few things. Have you got a King Arthur and Guinevere?"
Hannah nodded and Charles said, "Let me guess, you're Guinevere"
Hannah posed red carpet style, "Well, nothing wrong in giving yourself a starring role is there?" she said with a smile.
"Who's King Arthur?" Emma asked.
"Ben Adams. He works here in the evenings when he's not hanging out on the beach or surfing." She didn't sound enthusiastic
"Bad luck, Charles," Emma said patting him sympathetically on the arm.
"Well, there's still a vacancy for Sir Lancelot," Hannah said with a nod in Charles' direction
"Isn't he the one that…" Emma began but Charles swiftly interrupted her.
"I'll think about it, but no promises. Anyway, what about Molly? Do you have a role for her?"
Hannah shrugged, "There aren't a lot of women in the stories but I'm sure we could find Molly something appropriate." She looked in Molly's direction, "If you're not fussy."
Molly returned her gaze. "No, I'm not fussy. Never have been."
They talked about the arrangements with Hannah for a few more minutes whilst they all perused the menu and then Hannah wandered away to give their order to the kitchen.
"I think we just got hustled into that," Charles said with a wry smile. "Sorry, Molly but we'll have to make sure she doesn't steal all our time this week."
"It might be fun, though," Emma said, "And I've got lots of ideas. I'll have to get sketching."
It certainly wasn't what Molly had bargained on this week and she honestly didn't think Charles had intended to get involved either but it looked like some of their week had been planned out for them already whether they liked it or not.
By the time they had finished lunch the tide had come in and Charles knew that he would be unable to take his car over to Northanger for a few hours. Emma decided to buy a sketch pad and some pencils from the general store and settled herself at a table outside the Beachcomber Café with a cold drink as she worked on putting her ideas on paper. Although the tide was in there was still a narrow strip of sand high up on the beach near the dunes which extended the length of the bay and Charles asked Molly if she fancied a walk. She nodded and they set off together in the sunshine.
As they walked side by side, Charles said, "I'm sorry if Hannah seemed rude earlier, I don't think she meant to be. She's really not like that, or at least she never used to be."
"No." It was all Molly could think of to say. She didn't know what to make of Hannah. There had been nothing in her tone of voice or manner to suggest that she had meant to be rude but nonetheless she had made Molly a little uneasy. However, she reasoned with herself that she didn't really know Hannah well although it looked as though she was going to get to know her a lot better in the course of this week.
"Anyway," Charles said casually, "You've already got a very important job."
Molly looked up at him frowning a little in the sun as she wondered what part of the conversation she had missed.
"Keeping up morale." There was a faint smile on his lips. "Well, mine at least."
He reached for her left hand, his strong, warm fingers wrapped around her own and held them fast, the pressure comforting and reassuring to Molly and wordlessly they continued their stroll along the beach, their footsteps falling into an easy, matched rhythm. Molly gazed into the distance and smiled to herself. She needn't have worried. She hadn't been wrong about him.