The Way We Were_ A Novel - Marcia Willett [102]
The Child Merlin stood upright, wedged into a corner; chin up, hurrying forward into the future with that familiar swirl of his tunic and the falcon on his wrist. With a tiny sob of relief, Julia reached and took him into her hand, feeling the smooth weightiness. She looked at him, turning him, examining him with fresh eyes. Memories stirred; she swallowed, biting her lips, and then called down softly: ‘I've found him.’
She turned round, still on her knees, scrambling to the hatchway, and handed the little Merlin down to Aunt Em, who received it carefully. She held it in both hands and Julia closed the toy box and came clambering down the ladder to stand beside her. They gazed at it together; at the intricate workmanship and the soft sheen of the bronze.
‘Beautiful,’ murmured Aunt Em, turning him gently. ‘Quite beautiful.’
Julia touched The Child Merlin with one finger. ‘He is beautiful,’ she agreed. ‘I never really noticed it before. I just sort of took him for granted. But what shall we do with him?’
‘We must lose him,’ said Aunt Em calmly.
‘But it seems so terrible,’ said Julia anxiously ‘Now that we know, I mean.’
‘Terrible but necessary if you are to keep your promise,’ said Aunt Em.
CHAPTER TWENTY
2004
Liv was sitting with Chris and Val in their kitchen sharing an early lunch. She felt an odd detachment, as if a glass sheet had been slipped between her and the two who sat opposite. The emotional excitement of the last few months had been quenched with determination, though bittersweet tremors still shook her heart, rather as an amputated limb might twinge long after its separation.
‘I'm still wondering,’ Val was saying, ‘whether we need to be quite so generous. I mean, do we really need to leave cakes and bread and stuff for the visitors? Rush about putting milk and butter in the fridge and all the fiddly bits in the bathroom? That kind of thing.’
Chris was silent. He didn't glance at Liv as he would once have done, just to check out her reaction, but continued to eat his sandwich thoughtfully with his eyes on his plate.
Liv made an effort and brought her professional judgement into play. ‘Yes, I think we do,’ she answered firmly. ‘You only have to look at the visitors’ books to see how much it's appreciated. I know there are shops fairly close at hand but if you've driven a long way the last thing you want to do is go out again because you've forgotten your shower cap or the soap. It's the kind of thing people remember afterwards when they're about to book a weekend away. Boxes of tissues in the bedrooms, kitchen towels. I think the details are crucial. Does it affect the profit margin that much?’
She spoke directly to Chris and he looked at her at last, and then at Val.
‘No, it doesn't,’ he said. ‘We're not cheap, which is reasonable given the location, but I think those small extras make the punters feel they're getting their money's worth. After all, Debbie bakes every day anyway, so the cakes and bread aren't a problem, and we bulk-buy everything else. I think it's a positive approach that will pay us in the end.’
Val shrugged, still dissatisfied. ‘OK. But I think your idea of preparing a meal for each arrival is going much too far, Liv. It would be a nightmare.’
‘I agree with that,’ said Chris. ‘After all, think how much you'd have to liaise. There could be problems with vegetarians or nut allergies and God knows what. It's a nice idea in theory but I think that is going over the top.’
‘You're probably right,’ said Liv. ‘I read about a complex in the Cotswolds that does it and apparently it's a huge success but I agree that it's probably more trouble than it's worth.’ She paused; now was the moment she'd been dreading. ‘By the way, I hope this doesn't come as too much of a shock but I've been offered a rather exciting job beginning in the autumn so I think I ought to warn you that I shall be moving on. You don't really need me now and you'll find the extra revenue for the