times.’
‘Do you get on with them all right?’
‘Yes – quite well. Mrs Haskin has her ups and downs, but Mr Haskin’s always got a smile and a friendly word. I like him a lot. He and my father have been lifelong friends.’ She paused for a second. ‘But I’ve got to think about moving onbefore too long. I’ve been there almost three years. I can’t stay for ever.’
‘What d’you think you might do?’
‘I don’t know. I told you I was hoping to be a school-teacher, but that all came to nothing.’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, tell me something about yourself. Have you got brothers and sisters?’
‘I have a brother, Crispin. He’s three years older than I.’
‘And your parents? Are they well?’
‘Oh, yes, they’re fine. They’re in France at the moment.’
‘In
France
?’
‘Yes. My father has a business there. He’s back and forth a good deal of the time. My brother too.’
Lily was about to ask what kind of business it was that took a man back and forth over the Channel, when Joel said, ‘What’s happened to the music? The band’s stopped playing.’
Lily looked over to the bandstand and saw that the bandsmen had left their seats and that two or three of them were drinking from mugs. ‘I guess they need to wet their whistles,’ she said. ‘I’ll bet it’s thirsty work.’
They continued to sit there, and as the minutes passed she felt increasingly at ease in Joel’s company. The sun was shining, and all around them the air was filled with contented chatter and laughter. She realised that she was glad she had come.
Then, after a while, a group of six youths came and sat a few feet away, and with their arrival the air erupted with their raucous voices and braying laughter. When the noise had gone on for a few minutes Joel leant closer to Lily and said, ‘What do you say? Would you like a change of scene?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, why not.’ Her glance rested briefly on the noisy group.
They got up from the warm grass and moved off across the sward to a ring of trees, in the midst of which lay apond. On its bank three small boys moved back and forth, sailing boats on the smooth water, while their parents looked on from benches set about the rim.
Joel and Lily walked around the until they came to a vacant bench that looked out over the water. There they sat down side by side on the wooden seat, and Lily untied the strings of her bonnet. Further along on the grassy bank a mallard and his mate rested in the shade of a willow. On the summer breeze came the sound of the band starting up again. Joel listened for a second to the melody, then said, ‘Ah, that’s a grand old tune,’ and Lily puckered up her lips and whistled along with it for a few bars.
Joel looked at her in surprise. ‘Hey, you can whistle,’ he said.
She gave a little chuckle. ‘Well, of course I can whistle.’
He laughed. ‘I didn’t think girls could.’
‘It’s not that they can’t,’ she said, ‘it’s that they’re not allowed to.’ She joined in, whistling with the tune again, and then sang a few of the words.
‘The girl can sing too,’ Joel said. ‘I’m really impressed.’
Lily laughed. ‘No, I can’t sing. I wish I could.’
‘Yes, you can.’
She laughed again. ‘You don’t call that singing.’
‘Yes, it was nice. Go on, sing it for me – please. I like that song.’
She shook her head and briefly bit her lip. Then, throwing dignity aside, she came in, singing softly along with the band. Her voice was low and light, slightly husky, with a fine little vibrato. A little embarrassed at her own bravado, she sang, avoiding his eyes:
‘
The water is wide, I cannot go o’er,
Neither have I wings to fly.
Give me a boat that will carry two,
And both shall cross, my love and I
.’
She broke off with a little laugh. ‘That’s it. I don’t know any more.’
Joel clapped his hands. ‘You’ve got a very nice voice. You really have.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I can
‘Do you get on with them all right?’
‘Yes – quite well. Mrs Haskin has her ups and downs, but Mr Haskin’s always got a smile and a friendly word. I like him a lot. He and my father have been lifelong friends.’ She paused for a second. ‘But I’ve got to think about moving onbefore too long. I’ve been there almost three years. I can’t stay for ever.’
‘What d’you think you might do?’
‘I don’t know. I told you I was hoping to be a school-teacher, but that all came to nothing.’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, tell me something about yourself. Have you got brothers and sisters?’
‘I have a brother, Crispin. He’s three years older than I.’
‘And your parents? Are they well?’
‘Oh, yes, they’re fine. They’re in France at the moment.’
‘In
France
?’
‘Yes. My father has a business there. He’s back and forth a good deal of the time. My brother too.’
Lily was about to ask what kind of business it was that took a man back and forth over the Channel, when Joel said, ‘What’s happened to the music? The band’s stopped playing.’
Lily looked over to the bandstand and saw that the bandsmen had left their seats and that two or three of them were drinking from mugs. ‘I guess they need to wet their whistles,’ she said. ‘I’ll bet it’s thirsty work.’
They continued to sit there, and as the minutes passed she felt increasingly at ease in Joel’s company. The sun was shining, and all around them the air was filled with contented chatter and laughter. She realised that she was glad she had come.
Then, after a while, a group of six youths came and sat a few feet away, and with their arrival the air erupted with their raucous voices and braying laughter. When the noise had gone on for a few minutes Joel leant closer to Lily and said, ‘What do you say? Would you like a change of scene?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, why not.’ Her glance rested briefly on the noisy group.
They got up from the warm grass and moved off across the sward to a ring of trees, in the midst of which lay apond. On its bank three small boys moved back and forth, sailing boats on the smooth water, while their parents looked on from benches set about the rim.
Joel and Lily walked around the until they came to a vacant bench that looked out over the water. There they sat down side by side on the wooden seat, and Lily untied the strings of her bonnet. Further along on the grassy bank a mallard and his mate rested in the shade of a willow. On the summer breeze came the sound of the band starting up again. Joel listened for a second to the melody, then said, ‘Ah, that’s a grand old tune,’ and Lily puckered up her lips and whistled along with it for a few bars.
Joel looked at her in surprise. ‘Hey, you can whistle,’ he said.
She gave a little chuckle. ‘Well, of course I can whistle.’
He laughed. ‘I didn’t think girls could.’
‘It’s not that they can’t,’ she said, ‘it’s that they’re not allowed to.’ She joined in, whistling with the tune again, and then sang a few of the words.
‘The girl can sing too,’ Joel said. ‘I’m really impressed.’
Lily laughed. ‘No, I can’t sing. I wish I could.’
‘Yes, you can.’
She laughed again. ‘You don’t call that singing.’
‘Yes, it was nice. Go on, sing it for me – please. I like that song.’
She shook her head and briefly bit her lip. Then, throwing dignity aside, she came in, singing softly along with the band. Her voice was low and light, slightly husky, with a fine little vibrato. A little embarrassed at her own bravado, she sang, avoiding his eyes:
‘
The water is wide, I cannot go o’er,
Neither have I wings to fly.
Give me a boat that will carry two,
And both shall cross, my love and I
.’
She broke off with a little laugh. ‘That’s it. I don’t know any more.’
Joel clapped his hands. ‘You’ve got a very nice voice. You really have.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I can
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