The Swallow and the Hummingbird(157)

‘I’ll look after her, I promise,’ he replied, turning to kiss her hand.

‘I know you will. That is why I’ve left the house to you. Time will reveal that I’m not as batty as you all think. I have a reason for every one of my actions.’

She turned to Ruth. ‘Max will make sure that you have everything you need. You’re a good little mother, Ruth. That baby will be big and bonny and blessed with great charm. I leave to you this little fellow,’ she said, touching her moonstone pendant. ‘Barely taken it off in all the years I’ve had it. God knows what you’re going to do with all these cats! Will you make sure that Eddie and Elsbeth share my box of goodies?’ By that she meant her tarot cards, crystals and other mystical objects. ‘I’ve written it all down in that letter over there on my bedside table.’

She turned to Max again and her voice became brisk and businesslike. ‘Now, I don’t want a funeral. God forbid the pompous old Reverend having the last word! I want to be cremated and scattered in the garden. This body has served me well. I want it treated with respect. No tears and all that mawkishness. I shan’t be gone, just out of sight, though Eddie and Elsbeth will see me, they have inherited my gift. Damn lucky Antoinette didn’t, wouldn’t be so much fun haunting her if she knew the truth about spirits.’ She suddenly raised her eyes and shook her head impatiently. ‘Not yet, Denzil, I’ve got one more thing to say.’ She took both their hands in hers and said with deliberation. ‘All was not lost . . .’

But before she could finish her sentence her spirit was dragged from its body. She fought it, determined to have her say, but death could not wait. She managed to utter one final sentence. ‘A stranger will come to you for help . . .’ Then she departed with her habitual snort of irritation.

‘She’s gone,’ said Ruth, leaning over to close her eyes.

‘What do you think she meant?’ Max asked, pressing his lips against her hand.

‘I don’t know.’ Ruth wiped her tears on her sleeve. ‘The world suddenly feels very empty, doesn’t it?’

Max nodded gravely. ‘I can’t believe she was human after all.’

‘What are we going to do with all these cats?’

Max scratched his head. ‘That’s not a priority. First, we must tell Hannah and Antoinette, Maddie . . .’

‘And Rita?’

‘And Rita.’

Ruth looked at him with sympathy. His face suddenly looked so desolate. ‘Go and see her, Max. So much water has gone under the bridge since that Christmas. Life is too short.’

When Max parked the car outside Rita’s cottage he was heartened to see smoke rising from the chimney, signalling that she was at home. He looked about at the frozen trees, gnarled and twisted by the wind, then at the white sun that shone weakly down from a pale, watery sky. He felt a gentle thawing in his heart, inspired by memories of the countless times he had drawn up outside her front door. He imagined the warmth of her kitchen, the smell of coffee, the familiar chaos, and he smiled inside. Outside, however, his mouth twitched nervously.

He climbed out and slammed the door. He heard Tarka barking in the hall, then footsteps as Rita came to open the front door. When she saw his grim face she blushed in surprise, not knowing how to react. She had been so furious that he hadn’t spoken to her since that day on the estuary, not even to tell her of his engagement, but his sad eyes and hunched shoulders caused her heart to stumble and she shook her head in resignation.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he ventured, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat. He lowered his eyes in shame. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been a rotten friend.’

‘I’ve missed you too,’ she replied softly. ‘Although you made me angrier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.’

They stared at each other for a long moment. The muscle in his jaw began to throb, anticipating her fury, but her mouth extended into a shy grin and she began to laugh. Max’s relief was overwhelming.

‘We’ve been friends for too long to let a proposal of marriage come between us,’ he said, walking up to her and drawing her into his arms. She still smelt of violets.

‘What fools we’ve been!’ she sighed, winding her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. She savoured the feel of his embrace, like the familiar sense of home, and wished she could remain there a little longer. ‘I’m glad you’ve come back.’ She withdrew and studied his face, bleak in spite of his smile. She frowned. ‘What is it, Max?’ She stood aside as he walked past her into the hall where Tarka sniffed his trousers excitedly.