for this she was grateful, but it was not enough. Her sense of isolation, of not belonging to anyone, or more precisely of not being part of a family, and her dreadful loneliness, all contributed to the aridness of her life. Sometimes she found it unbearable, despite her treasured friendship with the devoted Gwen.
Audra stood up, then cast her gaze to the other side of the river.
The light had changed in the last few hours and High Cleugh now looked as if it had been built from polished bronze stones. It was bathed in a golden glow, appeared to shimmer like a mirage in the distance, and even the gardens had a burnished sheen in the rosy sunset. All of her life thus far, at least the best, the happiest parts of it, and her dearest memories, were bound up with that old house. A rush of feeling swept over Audra and she suddenly knew that she would never cease to yearn for High Cleugh and all the things it represented.
Here they were, sitting in the Copper Kettle in Harrogate. She and Gwen.
Audra could hardly believe they were finally meeting after all these weeks. The two girls had not seen each other since the beginning of June. On this hot and muggy Saturday it was already the end of August, the end of the summer, and the first time Gwen had been able to travel from Horsforth for a visit with her best friend.
Even so, Gwen had not been able to make it as far as Ripon, and in her letter she had asked Audra to meet her half-way. Audra had agreed to this request immediately, and had sent off a note by return post.
Now, flushed with happiness, Audra looked across the table and broke into a smile. ‘It’s lovely to see you, Gwen. I’ve really missed you.’
‘So have I – missed you, I mean.’ Gwen’s cherubic face, covered with freckles and vividly alive, was filled with laughter; it signalled her own pleasure at their reunion. ‘I still feel ever so awful about not being able to spend your birthday with you –’ Gwen broke off, reached down for the fabric shopping bag at her feet and proceeded to rummage around in it. She pulled out a package wrapped in royal blue paper and tied with scarlet ribbon.
With a flourish and a little grin, Gwen handed it across the table to Audra. ‘Anyway, this is your birthday present, lovey. I never did get to take you to one of the fancy tea dances at the Arcadian Rooms, so here, I bought you something instead.’
‘You didn’t have to, you shouldn’t have!’ Audra protested, but it was easy to see she was thrilled to receive the gift. It had been a long time since she had been given a present, and there had been nothing on her birthday. Her face lit up and her bright blue eyes danced as she tore off the ribbon and paper with the excitement of a small child.
‘Oh Gwen! A paintbox!’ Audra looked up and beamed at the other girl. ‘How lovely. And how clever of you. I really needed a new one. Thank you so much.’ She reached out and took hold of Gwen’s hand lying on the table and squeezed it affectionately.
It was Gwen’s turn to look pleased. ‘I wracked my brains, trying to think of something…something…well, just right. You being ever so particular as you are. As it happened, I was looking at that watercolour you painted for my mother last Christmas…the tree reflected in the pond, and it suddenly occurred to me. The paintbox, I mean. I thought to myself, that’s exactly the thing for Audra. It’ll appeal to her practical side, but it’ll give her pleasure as well.’
Gwen sat back and wrinkled her pert, very freckled nose. Her gaze did not leave Audra’s face as she asked, ‘It will, won’t it?’
‘Oh yes, Gwen, lots and lots of pleasure.’ Audra’s smile widened. Then she lifted the shiny black lid of the paintbox and looked inside at the small blocks of bright colour. She repeated some of the familiar names under her breath: Chrome yellow…rose madder…cobalt blue…jade green…burnt sienna…crimson lake…Saxe blue…royal purple…burnt umber…Malaga red. Audra loved the sound of the names almost as much as she loved to paint.
It had been her favourite pastime since her childhood. Her father had been a gifted artist and his paintings had sold fairly well, but then he had fallen gravely ill just as he was becoming known. Adrian Kenton had not really had a chance to make a name for himself before he had died. She had inherited his talent – or so her mother had always told her.
Audra closed the lid of the paintbox and raised her eyes to meet Gwen’s soft hazel-amber gaze. How pretty she looks, Audra thought, so blonde and golden from the sun. Gwen’s fair colouring and her flaxen hair, cut short in a halo of curls around her head, added to the angelic impression she gave; so did the pale blue frock with its big white Quaker collar, which she had chosen to wear today. She reminds me of a sweet young choirboy, Audra thought, and smiled at this analogy. With her beautiful bosom and lovely figure, there was nothing very boyish about Gwen Thornton.
Audra noticed that for once Gwen looked very restrained. Usually she glowed and glittered with all kinds of jewellery: necklaces and beads, earrings and bangles and rings. Obviously she had made a big effort to be both understated and dignified for this trip to Harrogate. She wants to please me, Audra decided, and her warm feelings for Gwen soared.
Leaning forward, Audra said, ‘I’m going to paint a very special picture for you, Gwenny. For your room at home. Would you like a scene – the kind I did for your mother? Or a still life, such as a bowl of flowers? Oh, I know what I’ll paint for you. The Valley Gardens here in Harrogate. You’ve always said that’s your favourite spot when all the flowers are in bloom. Would you like that?’
‘Yes, that’d be ever so nice. Thanks very much, Audra. I’d treasure one of your paintings – Mum says they’re masterpieces. The Valley Gardens would look lovely on my wall. So I’d-’
‘Can I take your order, miss?’ the waitress interrupted rather peremptorily. She looked first at Gwen, then at Audra, her pencil poised impatiently above her pad.
‘We’d like to have tea,’ Audra said pleasantly, ignoring her huffy manner and angry stance. ‘For two, please.’
‘A pot? Or the set tea?’ the waitress asked in the same snippy tone and licked the end of her pencil.
Gwen said, ‘You oughtn’t to do that. I hope that pencil’s not indelible. You’ll get a purple tongue, and probably lead poisoning.’
‘Get on with you, I won’t get no such thing!’ the waitress scoffed disbelievingly, then gave the two of them a worried glance. ‘Will I?’ she muttered and carefully examined the tip of her pencil. ‘Oooh bloomin’ heck! It is indelible.’
Gwen nodded solemnly. ‘I thought it would be. You’d better go and see a doctor immediately if you develop peculiar symptoms tonight, especially if they’re at all like convulsions.’
‘Convulsions!’ the waitress repeated in a shrill voice and turned as white as her apron. ‘Are you having me on, like?’
Audra, taking pity on the young woman, said, ‘No, we’re not. We’re nurses and we know about these things. But I’m sure you won’t get lead poisoning from licking that pencil a few times. My friend tends to be a bit of an alarmist.’
The waitress, appearing slightly relieved, nodded her head. ‘I wouldn’t want to be getting poorly…’ ‘You’ll be perfectly all right,’ Audra reassured, and went on briskly, ‘Now about our order, I think we’d better have the set tea. I suppose that means it includes everything…sandwiches, scones, jam, clotted cream, cakes – all of the usual things?’
‘Yes,’ the waitress said laconically. She brought the pencil up to her mouth, then dropped her hand quickly. She scribbled on her pad and edged away from their table.
When she was out of earshot, Audra stared at the merry-faced Gwen and shook her head a bit reprovingly. However, she could not help grinning at Gwen’s gleeful expression. ‘You’re incorrigible, Miss Thornton. And that really was