Chapter 5

Unless he was going to arrive ridiculously early, Roger realises that he would have to wait for a while. He had filled up with petrol at the little garage between Westbridge and Colebridge and knew he was only a few miles from Trennels now. Once he got beyond the station at Westbridge there was far too much likelihood of running into one of Rowan's sisters. He didn't especially want anyone to realise how much trouble he had gone to not to be late. He rather suspected that Rowan, coolly competent, would be ready at exactly the time specified. It was no bad thing to get off the Norton and stretch.

He had been quite right about Rowan being ready already when he rode into the yard at Trennels. She was wearing a navy beret and had a jacket (serviceable, waxed ) over her arm. It was somehow rather busy in the yard. Rowan was speaking to a grey-haired man. Roger thought by her manner she was giving instructions. The younger sister he had danced with (Ginty was it?) and one who seemed younger still were doing equine things next to two loose boxes on the far side of the yard. Mrs Marlow was standing holding the reins of a horse, whose ears made it clear she did not much appreciate the arrival of the Norton. Roger switched off the engine as quickly as possible.

Mrs Marlow soothed the horse for another few second, then handed her reins to the grey haired man and came over to shake Roger's hand saying the usual things about had he had a good journey and how pleasant to meet him again. She looked as much like Rowan as Mrs Blackett did like Nancy.

Rowan came over and offered her hand too. Well that made it quite clear she didn't expect him to kiss her, anyway.

"Perhaps you would like a cup of coffee before you set off?" Mrs Marlow suggested.

Mrs Marlow was so obviously dressed to go riding that Roger didn't think he was being discourteous when he answered, "Thank you, but it seem more sensible to make the most of the day while the weather is so fine. That's if Rowan prefers it?"

"I'm quite ready to go now." Rowan said, shrugging herself into her jacket. "You mentioned we might go to Corfe Castle on your motorbike, so I thought jodhpurs would be most suitable."

"Quite right." Roger said.

"Mrs Herbert was want to know if you'd like some sandwiches if you were going to have a picnic." Mrs Marlow said.

"I thought Rowan might like to have lunch in Swanage, or somewhere like that, rather than a picnic." Roger explained.

"I'd like that." said Rowan.

"You'd probably better put these on." He was glad he had remembered to bring her a pair of goggles.

"I'm not quite sure," said Roger, "what this horse will think when I start the engine."

The grey-haired man came forward and led the brown mare over to other horses.

Roger said to Rowan, "Look this will probably sound a bit odd, but the closer to me you sit, the better balanced we will be. It's always a bit harder with someone who doesn't ride themselves. It's best not to try to me too helpful and try to anticipate which way I'm going to lean or how much. And we shan't be able to talk much. Do you still want to go to Corfe Castle first?"

Rowan nodded and settled herself on the bike with the minimum of fuss. Then they were off.

Corfe Castle was every bit as dramatic and picturesque as Roger had surmised from the guide book he had managed to borrow from his parents' neighbours.

"I was rather expecting it to be a disappointment. " Rowan admitted. "You know how it is when you see something when you're small and don't see it again for ages. I vaguely remember coming here before the war when the twins were babies – well, very small anyway."

"I had thought – with living so near…. I suppose you've not had much time off."

"Nicola came here. She's the one who is really into history enough to be bothered with all the changes and sitting at Colebridge junction for an hour. Peter used to be keen on the civil war when he was a kid but not now."

"Wrong but wromantic?"

"Right but repulsive, I think." Rowan returned his grin cheerfully.

"It looks properly defensible. Against bows and arrows and so on."

"Muskets too. Brave Dame Mary held out for quite a bit. Twice I think, but I can't remember the details."

"Brave Dame Mary?"

"Her husband was a royalist. Sir John Someone – although they all seem to be Sir John Someone so that doesn't help you much. Anyway, he was a royalist and was away fighting – I presume – and she defended the castle for weeks and weeks against the Parliamentary army and it only fell because someone in the garrison betrayed them. But I don't know how. It sounds rather similar to other stories I've heard."

"It doesn't sound that improbable." Roger said "Just something a lot of people did because they had to. Maybe not exactly a lot, but a fair few."

"Anyway, I think it must have done its other job well too." Rowan said, stopping look at the castle appraisingly once more.

"Other job? Besides being a castle? Sitting around giving artists something to paint?"

Rowan laughed. "That too, I'm quite sure. I meant impressing people. "Look how much power we've got" sort of thing."

"Probably more effective than square-bashing." Roger agreed, "Although I suppose in the middle ages it would be square-clanking with all that armour."

"I expect only the knights would have been able to afford much in the way of plate armour." Rowan pointed out. She took off her beret, shook loose her curls, and shoved the beret in the pocket of her jacket, already slung over her arm. The day was getting hotter. They continued up the hill to the ruins.

"Most of it, I can work out." said Roger as they descended again having seen as much as they wanted of the view and ruins, "See how it might have worked at least. It's the small ridges in the ground that I don't understand. They're much too small to be any use, so I suppose they must be a result of something else that was done when this was built."

"Ridges?" Rowan queried. He pointed.

"Oh that – that's perfectly ordinary soil creep. It happens on lots of steep hills with short turf. It's natural enough, though it does look a bit strange. There's quite a bit of it in some places at Trennels.

"Where would you like to have lunch? We could see what the pub here does. They probably get enough visitors wanting lunch that the landlady won't look at you as though you've shot her pet cat if we ask for so much as bread and cheese. Although I wanted to treat you to rather more than bread and cheese. Or we could go into Swanage and set what we can find there."

"Could we go into Swanage and see if there's a proper fish and chip place?" Rowan asked. "Not if you don't like fish and chips of course."

"Yes, I suppose the charms of quaint Dorset village streets complete with inns might pall after a bit since you live in Dorset all the time. Swanage it is."

Swannage obliged with a fish-and-chip shop that had a small café attached.

"Not that I would have minded eating them out of a newspaper on a bench." Rowan remarked. "It isn't as if I even have a uniform any more."

"Uniform?"

"School uniform. Eating in uniform on the street is a hideous crime." Rowan shrugged slightly.

"Must have been something of shock for them. I mean there you are, lined up to be Games Captain or whatever and then you just don't come back next term."

Rowan flushed a little. "Conceited little piece of work wasn't I? Sorry about that."

Roger grinned at her. "Call it confident. That's what I do. Anyway, if you can run a farm, a few hockey teams would be a piece of cake."

Rowan shrugged slightly. "Perhaps I wouldn't have been at that. Keith, that's the headmistress, had ideas about character building. She might just as easily made sure I didn't get it because everyone thought I was the obvious one for the job."

"Chucking the best bit of school in to save your brother and father's careers must be showing enough character for even a storybook, surely."

Rowan whose eyes had been on her plate for the last few exchanges, glanced up.

"Ann's been talking." It was statement, not a question.

"Not much, and only what I asked her, really. You have to talk about something when you're dancing with a girl, after all. And I knew from Jon that Trennels was entailed and had been ancestral acres for donkey's ages and so on."

Rowan nodded, once.

"I'm not so sure what the staff made of it. One or two poisonous minds in the Upper Fifth jumped to the conclusion they wanted to believe, so I made rather a point of collecting the others at half term and giving people as much chance to see my nice, thin waist as possible."

"Well it is a rather nice waist, but I thought you won't like me to say…..Oh, I see. Rather rotten for you."

"More rotten for Ann really. Just as well no-one said anything in front of Nick, so far as I know. Nick's apt to get fiercely loyal about things."

"Good for her. She sounds rather like my sister, Titty."

They took a turn along the front at Swannage, and then rode to Studland and walked along the beach there for half a mile or so, carrying their socks and boots. The tide was on its way out and they found sticks in the driftwood and drew on the sand – aeroplanes ("No, that's a mosquito, that one there is a spit, the one you just trod on.") and horses and dinghies in full sail and… "Well, what is it?" Rowan demanded. "A plough?" Roger hazarded. "A harrow." She said triumphantly.

They paddled a bit and then started to walk back in search of ices.

"Although a cup of tea would do nicely if nowhere sells ices." Rowan said.

By mutual agreement, they moved up the beach to the dry sand to walk their feet dry, when Rowan, admiring Old Harry Rocks nearly stepped on a glass bottle. Roger grabbed her hand to pull her to one side and was rather please to find Rowan seemed to have no inclination to draw her hand away.

"When may I see you again?" Roger asked Rowan, when they stood once more in the yard at Trennels. "Would Sunday be any good for you?"

"There are still some things I must do. But … yes… I'd like to see you on Sunday. I enjoyed today very much. Thank you."

She didn't obviously tilt her cheek for a kiss, but somehow left him in no doubt that a kiss would be acceptable. He kissed her on the cheek and then, soft and briefly on the lips. He thought he had surprised her but only very briefly.

"I'll see you on Sunday then." And she flashed him a smile, kiss him as briefly as he had kissed her and went into the house.

He became aware that he was looking after her with a daft smile on his face, but didn't care. Rowan didn't turn round.