face suddenly darkened with anxiety. ‘Well, I’m sure he’ll talk to Trees. After all, he served in the Great War. He understands.’
‘What a brave young man. Our fighter pilots were the heroes of the war. You must be so proud.’
‘I am,’ she said. She couldn’t begin to explain how grateful she was that he had survived and dared not speak of her fears to anyone, not even Trees. ‘Now, let me help you. I’ve got some leftover rabbit stew, the farm is literally hopping with rabbits. Trees takes Johnnie up to the woods in his truck and they spend long evenings shooting them. Johnnie’s riveted. He worships his grandfather. I can’t cook much,’ she said, remembering the welcome home cake, ‘but I can cook a good rabbit stew thanks to your mother’s recipe. Did you invite Primrose?’
‘Goodness no! We want a little peace, don’t we?’ They both laughed and looked at Trees, who was sitting on the rug talking to Humphrey. Of all of them, he was the one person who truly appreciated Mrs Megalith, for she was just as passionate about walnut trees as he was, and for such a taciturn man he was remarkably verbose when talking to her.
After lunch George set up a treasure hunt for the young by drawing trails into the sand with a shell, then burying a bag full of boiled sweets at the very end of one trail. There were many red herrings and it took him half an hour to complete for the lines he drew weaved around rocks, into caves and for long distances across the beach. Finally Johnnie and Jane set off with the help of Eddie, Maddie and Alice. Their laughter and squeals of delight resounded across the bay, carried on the wind with the cries of gulls and the roar of waves. The grownups drank cider, smoked and talked so that George and Rita were able to sneak over the rocks and across the strip of sand to their secret cave without being noticed.
It was warm and damp inside and quiet out of the wind. He swung her around and kissed her. ‘Careful, they might find us,’ she said, pulling away.
‘Not in here they won’t. Believe me, it’ll take them hours to find the treasure.’ He grinned at her triumphantly and kissed her again. He smelt of smoke and tasted of cider. His hands ran over the skirt of her dress, against her thighs and over her bottom and she felt a warm wave of arousal wash over her. ‘They can leave us here and we can walk back to your house later,’ he mumbled, burying his face in her neck and tasting the salt on her skin. But to her dismay, Rita remembered her grandmother.
‘I have to go to Megagran’s for tea,’ she said with a heavy sigh.
‘Can’t you go tomorrow?’
‘You know Megagran.’
He pulled away and frowned impatiently. ‘There’s no one like Mrs Megalith to dampen one’s ardour.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, running her fingers through his hair.
‘Well, no point wasting time,’ and he bent his head to kiss her again.
Chapter 4
‘Ah, Rita,’ said Mrs Megalith as Rita appeared through the arch in the garden wall. ‘You can help me with these crystals.’ She picked up a large amethyst and handed it to her granddaughter. ‘Careful, it’s heavy. Now, that one goes in the drawing room, on the table as you go in, you’ll see the gap. It’s my favourite so don’t drop it.’
Rita obediently put it in its place then helped with the others. There were many, of every shape and colour, and Mrs Megalith took great pleasure in telling her the properties of each as they placed them all over the house. ‘Just feel the energy in them now they’ve soaked up the elements. Nothing like a good clean.’ She stood on the terrace, clasped a large blue sodalite to her bosom and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply while Rita stood quietly, waiting for this moment of spiritual ecstasy to end. A ginger cat slipped sinuously between Mrs Megalith’s ankles, rubbing his fur on her thick stockings. Rita picked it up and held it against her until her grandmother finally opened
‘What a brave young man. Our fighter pilots were the heroes of the war. You must be so proud.’
‘I am,’ she said. She couldn’t begin to explain how grateful she was that he had survived and dared not speak of her fears to anyone, not even Trees. ‘Now, let me help you. I’ve got some leftover rabbit stew, the farm is literally hopping with rabbits. Trees takes Johnnie up to the woods in his truck and they spend long evenings shooting them. Johnnie’s riveted. He worships his grandfather. I can’t cook much,’ she said, remembering the welcome home cake, ‘but I can cook a good rabbit stew thanks to your mother’s recipe. Did you invite Primrose?’
‘Goodness no! We want a little peace, don’t we?’ They both laughed and looked at Trees, who was sitting on the rug talking to Humphrey. Of all of them, he was the one person who truly appreciated Mrs Megalith, for she was just as passionate about walnut trees as he was, and for such a taciturn man he was remarkably verbose when talking to her.
After lunch George set up a treasure hunt for the young by drawing trails into the sand with a shell, then burying a bag full of boiled sweets at the very end of one trail. There were many red herrings and it took him half an hour to complete for the lines he drew weaved around rocks, into caves and for long distances across the beach. Finally Johnnie and Jane set off with the help of Eddie, Maddie and Alice. Their laughter and squeals of delight resounded across the bay, carried on the wind with the cries of gulls and the roar of waves. The grownups drank cider, smoked and talked so that George and Rita were able to sneak over the rocks and across the strip of sand to their secret cave without being noticed.
It was warm and damp inside and quiet out of the wind. He swung her around and kissed her. ‘Careful, they might find us,’ she said, pulling away.
‘Not in here they won’t. Believe me, it’ll take them hours to find the treasure.’ He grinned at her triumphantly and kissed her again. He smelt of smoke and tasted of cider. His hands ran over the skirt of her dress, against her thighs and over her bottom and she felt a warm wave of arousal wash over her. ‘They can leave us here and we can walk back to your house later,’ he mumbled, burying his face in her neck and tasting the salt on her skin. But to her dismay, Rita remembered her grandmother.
‘I have to go to Megagran’s for tea,’ she said with a heavy sigh.
‘Can’t you go tomorrow?’
‘You know Megagran.’
He pulled away and frowned impatiently. ‘There’s no one like Mrs Megalith to dampen one’s ardour.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, running her fingers through his hair.
‘Well, no point wasting time,’ and he bent his head to kiss her again.
Chapter 4
‘Ah, Rita,’ said Mrs Megalith as Rita appeared through the arch in the garden wall. ‘You can help me with these crystals.’ She picked up a large amethyst and handed it to her granddaughter. ‘Careful, it’s heavy. Now, that one goes in the drawing room, on the table as you go in, you’ll see the gap. It’s my favourite so don’t drop it.’
Rita obediently put it in its place then helped with the others. There were many, of every shape and colour, and Mrs Megalith took great pleasure in telling her the properties of each as they placed them all over the house. ‘Just feel the energy in them now they’ve soaked up the elements. Nothing like a good clean.’ She stood on the terrace, clasped a large blue sodalite to her bosom and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply while Rita stood quietly, waiting for this moment of spiritual ecstasy to end. A ginger cat slipped sinuously between Mrs Megalith’s ankles, rubbing his fur on her thick stockings. Rita picked it up and held it against her until her grandmother finally opened
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