Judith Saxton

“wanted to talk.’ ‘So I do. Outside, though,’ Tess said firmly. ‘Unless you want Marianne hanging on your every word, of course.’ They ate bacon sandwiches and drank tea, and then Andy put on his long, navy-blue overcoat and Tess put on her dark-brown one with the fur collar, and they set off, into the chilly and uninspiring morning. ‘I told Marianne we’d be out for lunch,’ Tess said rather guiltily. ‘But in for an evening meal. It’s too cold for a picnic, but I thought – I thought we might buy a pie each or something.’ ‘You do want us out of your house, don’t you?’ Andy said quizzically. ‘Now I wonder why?’ ‘I’ve told you. Because of Marianne,’ Tess said. She could not bring herself to admit that she thought Ashley would turn up on the doorstep and make them both uncomfortable. For one thing, it would give Andy the impression that Ashley was a person of some significance in her life and for another, it would make her seem such a ninny. ‘Now, where shall we go?’ ‘The Broad isn’t iced up any more but I don’t fancy boating,’ Andy said as they stood in Deeping Lane, looking up and down it. ‘Shall we walk up to the bus stop and go into the city? Or we could walk to Stalham, I suppose.’ ‘We’ll catch a bus into the city,’ Tess decided. She was certain that Ashley would find them in Stalham without any trouble; Norwich would be a whole lot more difficult. She had no idea just what she expected Ash to do, except that it would be something embarrassing and unpleasant both for herself and for Andy. Ashley was so proprietorial, that was the trouble. He seemed to think he owned her. The bus came and the two of them jumped aboard and went right down to the front, for it wasn’t full by any means. Tess sat in the front seat against the window and Andy sat down beside her. ‘What luxury, a bus not crammed with office workers,’ she said, turning to Andy. ‘The bus Cherie and I catch in the mornings . . . oh!’ ‘Why Oh?’ Andy asked curiously. ‘Got a pain?’ ‘No, I just remembered . . . something I’d forgotten,’ Tess said confusedly. ‘It doesn’t matter . . . tell me what you did after that summer, the one you spent in Barton.’ She did not think it necessary to explain that she had just seen Ashley, in his snarling sports car, driving in the opposite direction. He had not, she was sure, seen her, which was one blessing, anyway. ‘School, then Russia, then school again,’ Andy said. ‘Now what I want to know is, did you ever discover about your mother and your dream and everything? You kept hinting mysteriously but you never actually came out with much.’ ‘No. Well, I wasn’t any better than you at putting things down in writing. But I really have found out more than I bargained for, Andy. D’you mind if I don’t tell you right away, though? I’ll save it for when we’re alone, later.’ ‘Being alone in the city isn’t easy,’ Andy said. He sounded rather disgruntled. ‘We could go to the flicks, I suppose, but then you can’t talk. People keep hushing you”
― Judith Saxton, Still Waters