Free Coming Home by Rosamunde Pilcher Page A

watching strangers and trying to guess their lives, were two of Judith's favourite occupations. Mummy called it ‘staring’. ‘Don't stare, Judith.’
    But Mummy was reading her magazine, so that was all right.
    Covertly, she studied him. His book looked both large and dull, and she wondered why it so absorbed his interest, because he did not strike her as a studious type, being broad-shouldered and solidly built. Quite tough and fit, she decided. He was dressed in corduroys and a tweed jacket and a thick grey polo-necked sweater, and draped around his neck was an extremely long and startlingly striped woollen scarf. He had hair that was no particular colour, neither fair nor brown, and it was rather untidy and looked as though it needed a good cut. She could not see the colour of his eyes because he was reading, but he wore heavy horn-rimmed spectacles and there was a deep cleft, too masculine to be called a dimple, bang in the middle of his chin. She wondered how old he was and decided about twenty-five. But perhaps she was wrong. She hadn't much experience of young men, and it was hard to be sure.
    She turned back to the window. In a moment they would be going over the Saltash Bridge, and she didn't want to miss the sight of all the naval men-of-war at anchor in the harbour.
    But Jess had other thoughts. She was already bored with looking out of the window, and now searched for some different diversion. She began to jump up and down, and then scrambled down off the seat in order to be able to scramble up again. In doing so her shoe kicked Judith's shin, quite painfully.
    ‘Oh, sit
still,
Jess.’
    Jess responded by flinging Golly at her sister. For two pins, Judith would have posted him out of the open crack at the top of the window and horrible Golly would have gone forever, but instead she picked him up and threw him back. Golly hit Jess in the face. Jess howled.
    ‘Oh,
Judith.
’ Mother took Jess on her knee. When the howls had subsided, she apologised to the young man.
    ‘I'm sorry. We've disturbed your peace.’
    He looked up from his book and smiled. It was a particularly charming smile, revealing even white teeth as good as a toothpaste advertisement, and it lit up his homely features and completely changed his face, so that quite suddenly he was almost good-looking.
    ‘Not at all,’ he reassured her.
    ‘Have you come from London?’
    She was obviously in a conversational mood. The young man, as well, seemed to realise this, for he closed his book and set it aside.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Have you been away for Christmas?’
    ‘No, I was working over Christmas and the New Year. I'm taking my holiday now.’
    ‘Goodness, what a shame. Fancy having to work over Christmas. What do you do?’
    Judith thought she was being rather nosy, but the young man didn't appear to think so. In fact, he looked quite happy to talk, as though he had had enough of his boring book.
    ‘I'm a houseman at St Thomas's.’
    ‘Oh, a
doctor.
’
    ‘That's right.’
    Judith was terrified she was going to say, ‘You look much too young to be a doctor,’ which would have embarrassed everybody, but she didn't. And it explained the reason for his solid, heavy book. He was probably studying the symptoms of some obscure disease.
    ‘Not a very amusing Christmas for you.’
    ‘On the contrary. Christmas in hospital is great fun. Decorations in the wards and nurses singing carols.’
    ‘And now you're going home?’
    ‘Yes. To Truro. My parents live there.’
    ‘We're going further than that. Just about to the end of the line. We've been staying with my sister and her husband. He's a captain at the Engineering College.’
    It sounded a little as though she were bragging. To divert attention Judith said, ‘Here's the bridge coming now.’
    Rather to her surprise, the young man seemed as excited about this as she was. ‘I must have a look,’ he said, and he got to his feet and came to stand beside her, steadying himself with a hand on the