Pure Juliet by Stella Gibbons Page B

that’s my house,’ he said.
    ‘But it’s cowsheds,’ said Juliet flatly, after a stare.
    ‘I know. But it won’t be for long. See that board? “Abbot Bros – Conversions”. And it’s only one cowshed. There’s a tiny cottage as well, two rooms up and two down, where the herdsman used to live – see,’ pointing across the dim expanse of grass, ‘that white thing. It’s weatherboarded – I’m going to keep that – and in front of it there’s been a vegetable garden. The rest of the meadow I’ll plough up and grow wheat for my own bread.’
    They were slowly approaching the group of low, shabby buildings. It was almost dark; the first quarter moon was rising through the oak boughs.
    ‘Can we get inside?’ she asked.
    ‘Not tonight – it’s too dark to see anything . . .’
    ‘But there’s electricity, isn’t there?’
    ‘No, I’m having oil lamps.’
    ‘You won’t half be living in a funny sort of way, won’t you?’
    ‘I’m expecting everyone will say so, yes. You see,’ he turned away from his property, after a long, possessive gaze, ‘I’ve got quite a lot of money for one chap, Juliet. My father left it to me and I’ve never known what sort of work I wanted to do until a couple of years ago. I do know now. My life’s work is going to be for the Earth.’
    ‘Don’t know what you mean.’
    ‘I can’t explain it all now. We must hurry or we’ll be late for dinner, and it’s a very complicated subject.’ He shut the gate behind them. ‘But – very briefly – I want to increase the world’s food supplies. I support a movement called the Association for the Investigation of Edible Grasses; and my ideal vision is of Man returning to a life lovingly linked with Nature.’
    There was no response to this. It was now too dark to see her expression, but his words sounded to him inadequate, even foolish, spoken earnestly in the soft darkness. He also suspected that his companion had gone off into one of those reveries to which she was – a victim? Certainly she never seemed to try to resist them. The phrase maddening brat came, unexpectedly, into his mind.
    ‘Look, we really must hurry,’ he said sharply, as they came out onto Wanby village green.
    She shot away from him, calling: ‘All right – race you?’ and was lost in the dimness.
    But he had seen a car emerging slowly beside one of the pretty cottages, and set off running towards it, shouting, ‘Clem! Hi! Clem!’
    At the same moment Juliet returned out of the dusk. ‘Thought you might get lost,’ she said, grinning her unattractive grin.
    ‘We’re lucky – here’s Miss Massey and her grandmother. They’ll give us a lift.’
    The car stopped, and a young woman’s voice said enquiringly, ‘Frank?’
    ‘None other – and here’s Juliet. You can save us from Sarah’s scowls. In you get,’ to Juliet, as the driver opened the door next to herself. ‘No, on second thoughts, you get in the back. We’ve been looking at my house,’ he added, as he settled himself beside a pleasant-faced girl wearing a raincoat in a murderous shade of blue. ‘Oh, sorry, Dolly – this is Juliet Slater – Juliet, this is Mrs Massey, a very old friend of Aunt Addy’s. And this is Miss Massey.’
    ‘How do you do?’ said a deep voice from a large shape seated beside Juliet. It was swaddled in numerous shawls and rugs, on the summit of which one of the new ‘stableboy’ flat caps could be seen incongruously perching.
    ‘Oh – hullo,’ Juliet muttered, and the car moved off and Clemence Massey, catching a glimpse of silvery hair and youthful contours in the subdued light, thought despairingly, Oh God. Just his type .
    ‘ I should have said “Hullo”. I beg your pardon,’ said the voice next to Juliet, awfully; and Clemence and Frank exchanged a glance with the corners of their lips lifting. Then no one said any more, as they went onwards.
    And so young! Clemence was thinking. Oh, why does God or Something make it so