‘It’s a matter of a new option presenting itself after the fact. A sweet and glorious new option.’
Tom turned the jar round in his fingers, paying close attention to the delicious red-black spoils inside. ‘No,’ he said at length, ‘I think we should save it for a special occasion.’
‘More special than your birthday?’
‘My birthday’s been special enough. This we should keep for the next celebration.’
‘Oh, all right,’ said Juniper, nestling in against his shoulder so his arm contained her, ‘but only because it’s your birthday, and because I’m far too full to get up.’
Tom smiled around his cigarette as he lit it.
‘How was your family?’ said Juniper. ‘Is Joey over his cold?’
‘He is.’
‘And Maggie? Did she make you listen as she read the horoscopes?’
‘Very kind of her it was, too. How else am I supposed to know how to behave this week?’
‘How else indeed?’ Juniper took his cigarette and drew slowly. ‘Was there anything interesting, pray tell?’
‘Marginally,’ said Tom, sneaking his fingers beneath the sheet. ‘Apparently I’m going to propose marriage to a beautiful girl.’
‘Oh, really?’ She squirmed when he tickled her side and a smoky exhalation became a laugh. ‘That
‘I thought so.’
‘Though of course the real question is what the young lady is forecast to say by way of reply. I don’t suppose Maggie had any insight into that?’
Tom pulled his arm back, rolling onto his side to face her. ‘Unfortunately, Maggie couldn’t help me there. She said I had to ask the girl myself and see what happened.’
‘Well, if that’s what Maggie says… ’
‘So?’ said Tom.
‘So?’
He propped himself up on an elbow and adopted a posh voice. ‘Will you do me the honour, Juniper Blythe, of becoming my wife?’
‘Well, kind sir,’ said Juniper, in her best impersonation of the Queen, ‘that depends on whether one might also be permitted three fat babies.’
Tom took the cigarette back and smoked it casually. ‘Why not four?’
His manner was light still, but he’d dropped the accent. It made Juniper uneasy and somehow self-conscious and she couldn’t think of anything to say.
‘Come on, Juniper,’ he pressed. ‘Let’s get married. You and I.’ And there was no doubting now that he was serious.
‘I’m not expected to get married.’
He frowned. ‘What does that mean?’
A silence fell between them, remaining unbroken until the kettle whistled in the flat downstairs. ‘It’s complicated,’ said Juniper.
‘Is it? Do you love me?’
‘You know I do.’
‘Then it isn’t complicated. Marry me. Say yes, June. Whatever it is, whatever you’re worried about, we can fix it.’
Juniper knew there was nothing she could say that would please him, nothing except yes, and she wasn’t able to do that. ‘Let me think about it,’ she said finally. ‘Let me have some time.’
He sat abruptly, with his feet on the floor and his back to her. His head was bowed; he was leaning forwards. He was upset. She wanted to touch him, to run her fingers down the centre of his back, to go back in time so that he’d never asked her. As she was wondering how such a thing might be done, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. It was folded in half, but she could see there was a letter inside. ‘Here’s your time,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘I’ve been recalled to my unit. I report in a week.’
Juniper made a noise, almost a gasp, and scrambled to sit beside him. ‘But how long…? When will you be back?’
‘I don’t know. When the war is over, I suppose.’
When the war is over. He was leaving London and suddenly Juniper understood that without Tom this place, this city, would cease to matter. She might as well be back at the castle. She felt her heart speeding up at the thought, not with excitement like an ordinary person’s, but with the reckless intensity she’d been taught to watch for all her life. She closed her eyes, hoping that it might improve matters.
Her father had told her she was a creature of the castle, that she belonged there and it was safest not to leave, but he’d been wrong. She knew that now. The opposite was true: away from the castle, away from the world of Raymond Blythe, the terrible things he’d told her, his seeping guilt and sadness, she was free. In London, there’d been none of her visitors, there’d been no lost time. And although her great fear – that she was capable of harming others – had followed her, it was different here.
Juniper felt a pressure on her knees and blinked open. Tom was kneeling on the floor before her, concern flooding his eyes. ‘Hey, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right.’
She’d had no need to tell Tom any of it and for that she’d been glad. She hadn’t wanted his love to change, for him to become protective and concerned like her sisters. She hadn’t wanted to be watched, her moods and silences measured. She hadn’t wanted to be loved carefully, only well.
‘Juniper,’ Tom was saying. ‘I’m sorry. Please, don’t look like that. I can’t bear to see you look like that.’
What was she thinking, turning him away, giving him up? Why on earth would she do such a thing? To follow the wishes of her father?
Tom stood, began to walk away, but Juniper grabbed his wrist. ‘Tom – ’
‘I’m getting you a glass of water.’
‘No,’ she shook her head quickly, ‘I don’t want water. I just want you.’
He smiled and a stubbled dimple appeared in his left cheek. ‘Well, you already have me.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘I mean yes.’
He cocked his head.
‘I mean I want us to get married.’
‘Really?’
‘And we’ll tell my sisters together.’
‘Of course we will,’ he said. ‘Whatever you want.’
And then she laughed, and her throat ached but she laughed despite it and felt lighter in some way. ‘Thomas Cavill and I are getting married.’
Juniper lay awake, her cheek on Tom’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, his steady breaths, trying to match her own to his. But she couldn’t sleep. She was trying to word a letter in her mind. For she’d have to write to her sisters, to let them know that she and Tom were coming, and she had to explain it in a way that would please them. They mustn’t suspect a thing.
There was something else she’d thought of, too. Juniper had never been interested in clothing, but she suspected that a woman getting married ought to have a dress. She didn’t care about such things, but Tom might and his mother certainly would, and there was nothing Juniper wouldn’t do for Tom.
She remembered a dress that had belonged once to her own mother: pale silk, a full skirt. Juniper had seen her wear it, a long time ago. If it were somewhere in the castle still, Saffy would be able to find it and she would know just what was needed to resurrect it.
FOUR
Meredith hadn’t seen Mr Cavill – Tom, as he’d insisted that she call him – in weeks, so it was a tremendous surprise when she opened the front door to find him standing on the other side.
