Chapter 26

Roger hadn't been in the least surprised when Nancy suggested that the race promised to Jane and Julia should be from the Beckfoot boathouse to the Dixons'. Nancy had grinned when he suggested that the first crew to reach the Dixon's farmyard would be the winners. Roger didn't even need to look inside his knapsack to know there would be a picnic for two in it and that both Amazon and Swallow had a kettle safely stowed in them. Roger didn't for one moment believe that Nancy's tendency to plotting would extend as far as not doing her best to ensure Amazon beat Swallow. He had no compunction about choosing Jane to be his crew. Even so, Nancy had been clever – as she always was – to start a race with the cargo stowed but the boats moored in the boat house, sail not yet set. It was clever in more ways than one. I was the sort of thing that Father would have done. Roger was impressed by the efficiency with which both nieces set about their tasks with the minimum on instructions, Roger thought it wasn't the first time that John's family had organised a race in this way. Daily practice had its effect, and Amazon was sailing passed the Beckfoot promontory while Swallow was still in the Amazon River. Had the wind been from the north, Amazon would have won handily. Had the wind been from the south, the fact that Amazon could have sailed closer to the wind might have helped her beat Swallow. This was one of the rare days when the wind on the Lake was from the west. That gave Swallow a very good chance indeed.

Swallow did indeed get to the little landing place by the reeds first and, as instructed, Jane left it to Roger to make the painter fast and ran up the narrow footpath through the field of cows as fast as she could. Roger had only just started out after her when Amazon and landed and Julia hopped out and scurried after her sister. Roger soon outdistanced Julia – not before hearing the forlorn cry of "wait for me" and "it's not fair". Nancy had always been good on hills, and the slope was steep, but he doubted she could beat him up to the farm. Jane stumbled and fell, picking herself up from the soft springy grass before he could reach her and continuing, this time at a hurried walk rather than a run. He caught up with Jane, caught hold of one hand to help her.

"I'm not a baby. I'm nearly an able –seaman." She snatched her hand back but didn't pause.

"OK."

And here was Rowan, running down the hill to meet them. Roger left Jane to go at her own pace and went ahead.

"You were in the one with the brown sail, weren't you?" Rowan asked as they reached each other.

Roger didn't even reply before he kissed her. He did managed a mumbled "Of course" and a grin somewhere between kisses.

"Come on, Uncle Roger." Jane passed them. Roger ignored her.

Half a minute later Jane's voice came from much further up the field, loud and clear and very like her mother's.

"Miss Marlow, don't you understand about winning races and things? Mummy and Julia have nearly caught up. They'll get there before Uncle Roger if he doesn't get a move on and then Swallow will lose."

It was Rowan who broke off the kiss and, before Roger could apologise, called out to Jane, "I'll show you winning." and ran up the hill after the nearly-able-seaman. When Rowan caught up with Jane she grabbed one hand and pulled Jane along with her a little faster, but not too fast. Roger had to make more of an effort than he would have liked to admit before he caught up with them and grabbed Jane's other hand. They reached the farmyard before Nancy and Julia.

"Only by a little bit." Julia was quick to point out.

"Do you want to steer for a bit?" Roger asked Rowan as Amazon turned north and Swallow turned south.

"Won't your brother mind? If it's his boat."

"Why should he? It isn't as if you've never sailed. And I'm here if you get into trouble, which you won't."

"It's a long time since I have sailed." Rowan admitted.

She didn't think that she did badly. It wasn't quite like riding a bicycle, or swimming or riding. Rowan suspected that there was more that she might forget about sailing – but then she had never known as much about sailing. She certainly wasn't glad when Roger took the tiller again as they neared the farther shore of the lake.

""It's the pike rock." he explained. "I told you about the shipwreck didn't I? There it is anyway."

And there is was, and there was a tiny cove, just as perfect in reality as Roger had described it.

"I'm quite happy just to spend the day here, if you like." Rowan said, answering his earlier question. She hoped it wasn't the wrong thing to say. By Roger's fleeting half grin, she thought it wasn't.

The stream coming down into the cove made fascinating ripples in the clear water, with the pebbles underneath sparkling in the sun. It was asking to be paddled in, so paddle they did. Then they sat drying their bare feet in the sun and the breeze, and talking of what Roger had been doing and what Rowan had been doing. And if they both picked out the amusing incidents and left out the bleaker moments – and they both did – it didn't matter really, not then. Then they decide that after all it really wasn't too early to make a start on the picnic.

"Picnics." said Roger, surveying the contents of the string bag from Dixon's farm and his own generously-filled knapsack. Both Cook and Mrs Dixon had provided food for two.

"Mrs Dixon's normally generous." Rowan remarked, "but you do seem to be something of a favourite."

"No, that's Dick." Roger said, almost absently as he set the portions of pork pie and the hard boiled eggs out on the enamelled plate. "Or Dot."

"Dick's your brother-in-law, isn't he? The one who's married to Titty?" Rowan asked. "They have the boat with the red sail? I saw it on the Lake at Easter."

"Scarab, yes, that's them. Dot's his sister – Dorothea. You won't have seen her at Easter. She lives in the Hebrides. "

"Oh, the one with twins?"

"That's Dot."

"Do you want to walk up to Swallowdale?" Roger asked, after they had both eaten enough.

"Would you mind very much if we didn't? Not today anyway."

"I'm more than happy to hear you say we'll leave something until another day. At least that way I know there will be another day."

"I'm sorry. I was stupid."

"Not stupid. Daft maybe. Lots of otherwise clever people are daft sometimes. And it's
OK. It really is. We didn't lose each other – and there isn't any point worrying about what might have happened." There was a pause. "Although it was always a bit difficult to convince mother of that. Susan too, sometimes."

"Mother tries to pretend she doesn't get in a flap, but she does."

Roger said nothing. Rowan thought he said it rather expressively. She wondered what her mother had said to Roger. She wondered what Roger has said to her mother.

"Did you have some sort of row? With my mother." she asked.

"No. "Roger said and then perhaps realising it might have sounded rather curt. "No, I was rather careful not to."

Rowan thought that perhaps this wasn't the time to ask why Roger had been "rather careful not to". She wasn't at all what the answer would be; she wasn't quite sure what she hoped the answer would be.

They had both been sitting side by side facing the Lake. Roger half turned his head towards her and smiled – that flashing lightning quick smile he sometimes had that was gone from his mouth almost as soon as it arrived, but lingered around his eyes.

"So would you like to sail again, or stay here for a bit?" he asked.

"Stay here for a bit." Rowan replied. "That is, if you don't mind."

"I was rather hoping you would say that."