The soft warm muddy sand was pleasant to walk upon. Disregarding the dangers of swimming on an outgoing, treacherous tide, he ran into the rapidly shallowing water until he found the sand shelving beneath his feet.
When he got back to the cottage, exhausted and with legs which seemed to be made of jelly, he found that Miranda was still alone. She was seated by his window completing the picture she had begun from the same vantage point on the previous day. She did not look round as he entered, but when he collapsed on the studio couch and gave a great sigh of exhaustion she put down her brush and came over to him.
‘What have you been doing?’ she asked.
‘A damn silly thing, and nearly got myself drowned. The bloody tide carried me out, and when I thought it was time to get back to shore I found there was such a vicious undertow that I began to think I would never make it.’
‘You were angry about your car. People do foolish things when they are angry.’
‘Well, my first fine frenzy has washed itself away, that’s one thing. So long as Camilla hasn’t damaged the car I’ll forgive her. I shall give her a piece of my mind, of course.’
‘You do that. You must also put your feet up and I will make us both a cup of tea.’ She was so comforting and the tea was so welcome that he said, when he had drunk it and she had gone back to her painting:
‘I say, Miranda.’
‘Yes, Colin?’
‘No need to tell Adrian my car was taken without my permission. I mean, if he’s had a good day, no need to spoil it for him.’
That Adrian had had a good day there was no room for doubt. He was full of enthusiasm and gratitude. He had found a beautiful specimen of the sea-pea – ‘not the marsh-pea, Colin, but
He was so happy and had enjoyed himself so much that, more than before, it seemed to Palgrave that it would be desecration to say anything about the unlawful use of the car. It did occur to him, however, to wonder what Camilla had been up to while Adrian had been pursuing his own interests.
CHAPTER 4
INTERLOPERS
‘Why did my Summer not begin?
Why did my heart not haste?
My old Love came and walk’d therein,
And laid the garden waste.’
« ^ »
Camilla accepted Palgrave’s scolding meekly, but said at the end of it that ‘poor old Adrian’ had been ‘so pathetically keen’ to get to Stack Ferry that she thought, ‘Colin, darling’, that nobody would mind if she borrowed the car.
‘I didn’t like to follow you on to the marshes and
‘You didn’t want me to refuse to lend the car to you, you mean, you sneaky little devil,’ said Palgrave. ‘Anyway, I don’t know how you got hold of the keys.’
‘You’re such a sound sleeper, darling. It was quite easy. I nipped into the parlour in the early hours and felt in your pockets.’
‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll be more careful in future.’
‘May I swim with you this morning, just to show you forgive me?’
‘I’m not swimming today. I went in on an outgoing tide yesterday and had a job getting back. I am not too keen on going in again so soon.’
‘I ought to have warned you. The bathing is safe enough, but not when the tide’s going out.’
‘So I discovered. Why didn’t you mention it?’
‘I thought a good swimmer like you knew all about things like that. I suppose you did know, but you were mad with me because of the car and that’s why you did it.’
This was so true that Palgrave did not contest it.
‘Be seeing you at supper,’ he said. ‘I shall take the car out myself this morning and put temptation out of your way.’
‘We did top up with petrol at Stack Ferry,’ she said plaintively, ‘so now you can stop being nasty. We didn’t hurt your old car!’
Adrian’s description of Stack Ferry, apart from his eulogies concerning the marine biology and marsh botany of the place, had made Palgrave think that a day spent in exploring what had once been a famous and important harbour might well be worth while, for at last he was prepared to believe that he was not to get any help with his projected novel from among the mudflats of Saltacres.
If he liked Stack Ferry and there was reasonably priced accommodation to be had there, he decided to make a booking for the following week, when Adrian’s lease of the Saltacres cottage in any case would expire.
He thought he would make a full day of his preliminary survey, so he made his own breakfast before the others were up, went along the street to a broad part of it where he had parked his car, and set off. The road still kept its distance from the sea and skirted the low hills, but the scenery gradually altered. There were several bridges to cross and at the foot of the hills there were small lakes. On the seaward side several rough tracks led down to the marshes, but petered out long before they reached the sea, and after he had passed a round barrow on the landward side, he went through a village which had a perfect little Norman church, which he visited. A few miles further on he came in sight of the town.
He drove on past the parish church, an edifice dedicated to St Nicholas, sure sign of the town’s former connection with the Netherlands, and then found a signpost which directed him either to turn sharp left for the next village or sharp right to reach the town centre. The road to the right, which he took, soon narrowed. It passed a coastguard station, skirted a considerable creek (still a couple of hundred yards wide, but obviously much silted up since the time the Dutch trading vessels had been able to sail into the town) and then the road swung right again and he could see the church tower once more.
He found a street parking place, locked the car and set out on foot to explore the town. It was an interesting and picturesque old place, important enough, in spite of its vicissitudes, to have a railway station and a bus station, and in the middle of the town there was a long green open space still known as Archery. Around it were the houses, Georgian and Queen Anne, which once had belonged to wealthy merchants and ship-owners, but were now either decayed or turned into flats.
Narrow streets led down to the quay, and there were so many holiday makers about that Palgrave became doubtful as to whether he would be able to get accommodation for the following week. He found an ancient, pleasant inn for his mid-morning beer and made enquiries. Did they let bedrooms to holidaymakers? Yes, they did. What would he require? A single room for a week or possibly a fortnight. When would he want to take it up?
From Saturday afternoon, but he was not quite sure of his plans. Would they make a tentative booking?
Yes, if he cared to leave a deposit. The town was beginning to fill up and they could let the room without any trouble.
When he was shown the room Palgrave had his doubts about this. He was conducted to it by way of the public bar and a narrow dark staircase which could lead nowhere but to the quarters usually allotted to the staff. The room, approached by a passage lighted only from overhead, was cramped and low ceilinged and contained a
