The Way We Were_ A Novel - Marcia Willett [76]
They'd loved it. ‘She'd be crazy not to have a crack at it,’ Pete had said. ‘It's exactly what she needs.’
Julia agreed with him; she remembered that there had been a text message on her mobile from Liv earlier that morning: ‘B in 2 c u pm.’ Well, that wasn't a problem although ‘pm’ was a bit vague. Julia chuckled. Liv could be the most irritating and infuriating person in the world but just the sight of her – blonde hair flying, wide smile, always with some little treat in her hand – dissolved any feeling except huge affection.
She stopped at Bridport for petrol and chocolate, then drove on until she reached the turning to Eype where she could use the public lavatory and let Frobisher out for a run. The parking bays were nearly full on this warm, sunny morning but she found a space and got out to release Frobisher. As she walked him from the car park towards the lane, an old orange VW camper van came trundling in and motored slowly round, its driver looking for a place to stop.
All in a moment Julia was transported back twenty-eight years: she could hear the twins bickering, Charlie shouting, and was aware of the shade of Tiggy at her shoulder, thrusting her hand under her arm and saying, ‘Let's go and have a picnic.’
Instinctively, Julia pressed her elbow against her side, remembering. She stood quite still, staring after the van until Frobisher tugged impatiently on his lead, and she moved forward automatically, feeling oddly shaken. After all, she'd never forgotten that summer – how could she? Losing Tiggy and her own child within hours of each other; how could she ever forget? Yet today, in the hot sunshine, the sight of the old orange van had the same unsettling effect that had begun to manifest itself earlier. Further up the lane, Julia unclipped the lead so that Frobisher could potter unhindered and as she wandered after him, head bent, arms crossed beneath her breast, she brooded on this strange sensation. She felt a very strong desire to be at home and she took out her mobile and sent a text to Liv: ‘B home about 3. C u then.’ Julia realized that the prospect of seeing Liv was very comforting indeed.
She walked back to the car peering for the van, which was now nowhere to be seen, and set off again. To the west: down into pretty, thatched Chideock, past Charmouth and Axminster, round Honiton and on to the M5. She could remember the days when they'd driven through the busy towns of Honiton and Exeter to reach the A30 but now the great roads sliced across the countryside and she drove at a steady speed, pulling off the new A30 on to the old road through Whiddon Down, and parking by the entrance to a public bridleway. She let Frobisher out and he disappeared into the tall grass of the bridleway whilst she sat sideways on the passenger seat with the door open, eating a sandwich and drinking coffee from the lid of the flask. The sun was hot and Julia sat quietly, eyes closed, trying to relax. In years past this had been a favourite stopping place on the way home, to let out the dogs and allow the children to stretch their legs. She finished her coffee, screwed the lid back on the flask and stood up. The northern flanks of Dartmoor shimmered with a powdery golden light in the afternoon heat and Julia was once again assailed by the sensation that Tiggy was somewhere near. So strong was this feeling that for a mad moment she seemed to see the Turk's low, strong, supple body, racing towards her, scimitar-shaped tail waving. Of course it was Frobisher who came panting up to her: his silky, feathery coat was black, not coarse and wheaten-grey; his deep-set eyes in the noble brow were pensive, not round and dark and intelligent like the Turk's.
Julia bent to stroke him, her hands trembling just a little. She was not given to flights of fancy, or an over-active imagination, and she was disturbed, even frightened.
‘Not far now,’ she said aloud, as much to comfort herself as to reassure Frobisher. ‘We should be home in an hour and a half at the most.’ She was