58

The old roof of the covered bridge turned out not to be conducive to lovemaking, and so they strolled back to the Glen. It was becoming increasingly dark; the moon was still in her petticoats and the road beneath their feet was black.

It made one feel as if the world had disappeared, there was such an unknown quality to it all. Though neither of them would admit to the other what this 'all' might entail. Were they courting, were they engaged - did such things need to be stated out loud? Perhaps one of them should. A skirting round the edges sort of conversation, while they walked in the middle of the road.

"Do you know when I started falling for you?" said Rilla. Keep it playful, that was the ticket. Surely soon they would find solid ground.

Teddy's thoughts were anything but playful. He was swallowed up by a memory of Rilla unbuttoning her blouse. It was a memory worth savouring. He would have liked to linger there and let Rilla think he was pondering her question in a serious manner, but it kept getting pushed down by a question so knotty he felt his throat constrict. That being, when they came to the crossroads and there was a choice between his home and hers, which way would she turn?

"At the beach?" he said, finally. It came out like a squeak.

"Oh yes, you were so kind to Una that day," said Rilla. "No, I'm not thinking of that. Guess again."

"Was it when you heard me sing, then?" The bad Caruso came to mind.

"Oh Silvery Moon!" Rilla sighed, her very Rilla-est sigh. "You sang that so beautifully this evening. But that wasn't what I meant -"

"That wasn't what I meant either - Rilla?"

She was no longer walking, nor holding onto his arm. She had gone quite still. And the look on her face - he could just make it out - as though she had just remembered she had forgotten to leave out the key.

"Oh Teddy, oh no."

"Don't you oh no, me," he said, "I refuse to believe we have already come to our first oh no. Is it possible you made a mistake and meant oh yes?"

"Oh no." She shook her head and her voice was anything but playful. "Una."

"What about Una, were you supposed to see her home? We can go back and fetch her if you like, but I reckon she'll be fighting off the offers, she really shone on stage tonight."

"Haven't you asked yourself why? The hair do, the new soap, the brave performance - no cardigan! Oh, my sweet Una, I've been so blind. Teddy, I think Una might love you."

"I don't."

"You mightn't be able to tell - Una is very deep - and I sort of encouraged her to think of you - that way. I did think you'd be perfect for each other."

Teddy considered this, and Una in particular. Rilla might have had a point. Una Meredith might actually have been perfect for him - or many a fellow come to that. She had lots of excellent qualities and the ones that weren't so excellent could be, well, not ironed out so much as rumpled up, for there was far too much starch in her already.

"Encouraged her, you say. And when were you planning on encouraging me?"

"I forgot that part." She kissed him again. "I got a little distracted."

And she was. Rilla hadn't even noticed two motor cars bustling up the road behind them. Teddy pulled her onto the curb, as one hurtled past with a hoot. The other stopped up ahead, piled with Blythes, Wrights, Merediths and Keiths, though less so than this afternoon.

The entire scene had been perfectly illuminated by the headlights of the car. Teddy and Rilla standing close together, holding hands, kissing each other in front of the whole world!

"Hello you two."

So said Fred Wright, who was driving Gilbert's car. Diana had very stitched together lips, but her eyes, currently stretched very wide, said it all.

"Where is Father?" Rilla said.

And Mother. This had been another thing that had slipped her mind. She hadn't seen her mother during the concert at all. But then Rilla had barely seen anyone, even Jims only got a brief wave. There had been such a lot to organise.

"The Doctor was called away. Didn't you know - no I don't suppose you would have noticed," Carl teased from the dickie seat.

Fred Jr reached past his sweetheart and over a couple of squeezed in Keiths and opened the back passenger door. Rilla knew what that meant.

There would be no long stroll back to the Glen, no more kisses or playful talk. She straightened her hat, lifted her chin and got in the car. Teddy piled in next which meant Rilla had to sit on his knee.

"Where is Una?" said Rilla.

It was the usual stock question because somehow or other she was always missed. And it was better than the question she knew everyone wanted to ask, because Rilla Blythe had no answer. None that would be acceptable to her friends and family, let alone herself. Love - it's public face - could only be couched in terms like duty (as in she had waited dutifully for Ken), and fidelity (as in she had stayed true to him while she waited). The private face could scarcely be mentioned at all. Picket fences and roses round the door were about as close as one dared go in that direction. Oodles of babies were lovely and all - but one wasn't about to talk about making them.

Relations between men and women should be proper, goal-oriented, and if you were lucky, romantic. And what she had with Teddy lacked all of those qualities. Surely it could never go anywhere. So, Rilla armed herself with the certain knowledge Teddy that would leave her. It wouldn't hurt so much so long as she prepared. How careful she had been to protect herself, while Teddy was expected to take every blow. Everything according to her wishes and desires. But what did he want?

It was love she was feeling: this longing to know the man she was currently sitting upon. To whom she had bared her body, got drunk with, and spent some part of every day. Who would he be if he wasn't always following her path and was trusted to make one on his own?

She would have gone on thinking these thoughts if they had not been interrupted by an increasingly discernible poke made by Teddy who was shifting uncomfortably beneath her. Fortunately, nice normal chatter started up around them as the passengers debated over who was taking Una home. Was she tagging along with Davy and Jack (who could not be dragged away from the Killick Co display) or had the Reverend got her firmly in his clutches?

Carl listened in for a while. He had to bend forward to hear, though not noticeably so, because everyone had to forgo their indoor voices in order to be heard over the engine. At last, he settled the question by saying, "Una's with Father and Rosemary. They're getting a ride with the Elliots as far as Ingleside. I hear Susan is cooking up a real feast for supper."

Another debate then ensued as they argued over which Elliots these were. The sort of animated, drawn-out chatter designed to drown out the palpable yet unsaid love language passing between Teddy Willoughby and Rilla Blythe.

Soon they were turning into Ingleside's drive. The lamp had been lit on the veranda - or had it? As they drove closer, they realised that someone had forgotten to light that again. This light was coming from the open front door; the Doctor was standing stock still, a tall silhouette in front of it.

"Something's wrong," said Diana, "I just know it."

The people in the car quietened, even the children. Diana Wright had a sense about these sorts of things.

"It's not Mother, is it?" said Rilla. Her hand was already on the handle of the car door.

"No darling, if it was your mother, you can be sure that Gilbert would not be lurking on the front porch. He would be by her side."

"Maybe supper's spoiled," said Fred Jr.

"You've had enough to eat," his sweetheart said.

Presently, Gilbert approached the car with steady, long strides - no panic, no fear. There was definitely something wrong however, because he used his calming nervous patients voice, and was down to his shirtsleeves.

"Teddy…"

Every occupant looked at him, Rilla's hand froze in his.

"Teddy, lad," Gilbert went on, "might I have a word? Ah, everyone else, if you wouldn't mind remaining in the car for a moment. There is a situation, don't worry, you can all come inside soon. I just need to talk to this chap."

The chap got out, without so much as a glance at Rilla. A nasty dread possessed him. Like the time he was called up in front of Major Ramsey after he had filched a box of his cheese and wine. He was expecting to be disciplined and severely, his pay docked or worse. It turned out the Major only wanted him to get his gas heater going in order to warm up his dinner. The Doctor did not have the Major's reputation, but Teddy couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to go much worse.

The two men went inside and paused outside the spare room. What could it be? Teddy had stayed a week in that room. Did Susan come across some of his old French letters when she was tidying in there?

"Sir?"

"Don't look so worried, it's nothing you did, Teddy. You had a visitor this afternoon."

"Connie?"

"No, this was a gentleman. He claimed to be your grandfather. Anne was accompanying him to your concert." Gilbert placed a hand on Teddy's shoulder. "There's no easy way to tell you this, son. He died as he was walking to you."

...

More tomorrow, love, k.