The Cornish Affair Read Online Free Page B

age, and at least as twice as active. It made me feel like a lumpy schoolgirl. I sank into a sofa, and Baxter jumped up on my lap, trying to look ingratiatingly at me. He and I had had this tussle many, many times. I don’t approve of dogs on furniture, but it’s so exhausting stopping them all the time.
    Nancy was holding one nostril closed and breathing deeply out with the other one. At least, I think that’s what she was doing. It was quite hard to tell.
    She gave a big stretch and sat up, gracefully raising her arms above her head.
    “Oh, that feels better. What did Richard bring?”
    “Fish, salmon, I think. I haven’t looked yet.”
    “Oh, how lovely – Fin, are you alright? You look incredibly gloomy.”
    Gloomy was the word alright. I couldn’t quite pin point why though. I know that the idea of Oliver Dean coming here had unnerved me, but it was somehow more than that. A sort of Nordic fog had descended on me and I wasn’t sure why. I hated moaning to Nancy, especially when I didn’t really know what was wrong, it seemed petty and childish. I knew that she missed her sister, and her husband nearly as much as I did, and Nancy’s daughter, my cousin, Beatrice lived in Canada and made but infrequent trips over here to see her mother.
    Nancy looked at me shrewdly, “Fin, darling, there’s no point fretting over the chef, and as for anything else – well, life’s not so bad you know.”
    “I know, it’s just, well, I don’t know really.” I said, feeling a fool. I glanced around the room and remembered what it was like before the absence of the books. A fire would certainly have been lit in the grate, my father would be in his favourite chair, marking his racing tips out in pencil and my mother would be pouring tea. I could almost see them silhouetted in front of the flickering flames, and experienced a sudden ache in my heart. This sort of feeling happened all the time at Penmorah, and usually it could be a comfort. But this wasn’t one of those times. Baxter dug his nails into my leg as he jumped off my lap and went to sit in what had been my father’s chair, turning around and around till he was comfortable and then scratching his ear with his back paw.
    “I just don’t like this room very much,” I said brightly, “It’s enough to make anyone gloomy, isn’t it? Perhaps we should get it painted, what do you think?”
    “I think an evening at The Ram is called for, that’s my opinion, and all though I do say so myself, it’s a damn fine one. Now buck up, and let’s go.” Nancy stood up, dusting herself down.
    She was quite right of course.
    I followed her out of the library, calling to Baxter and firmly closed the door behind me. As I pulled the door shut, I had a sudden intense, almost overwhelming scent of roses that made not just me, but Baxter too, sneeze. The smell was so strong that it momentarily made me feel giddy and I leant back on the door.
    “Where are the roses, Nancy?” I asked, looking around, not having noticed them before.
    “Don’t be daft, darling. They’re not out for ages yet. Don’t say you’re getting hay fever already?”
    I shook my head and went into the hallway and followed the long corridor down to the kitchen. I heard Nancy call that she was just going to change her shoes. Nelson screeched at me as I entered the kitchen and I went over to rub his neck. His feathers were soft beneath my fingers, and I found myself whispering to him.
    “They were her favourite flower, weren’t they Nelson, roses?”
    Nelson winked at me, and I laughed at myself. I heaved the parcel of salmon off the table and pushed it into the fridge, and rinsed the tea mugs, waiting for Nancy.
    It was a glorious evening, bright and windy, and even Baxter deigned to behave like a young dog, scampering down the narrow lane, turning and waiting for us to catch up with him. He even stopped at the end of the lane so that I could tag his lead on. The road to the village was fairly