Free Memories of the Storm by Marcia Willett Page B

to
stand back and evaluate your relationship.
    'Well, you could stay,' she said aloud. 'We could
turn the clock back fifty years and you could be my
companion and do the flowers.'
    She smiled across the table at her god-daughter,
who grinned back at her.
    'I'm almost tempted,' Clio said.
    Hester laughed derisively. 'You'd die of boredom
in a week. If Lizzie hadn't wanted help you'd have
been biting the carpet long since. You need someone
to organize.'
    Clio made a face. 'I could organize you.'
    'No you couldn't,' replied Hester calmly. 'Not
now that I can walk and drive again. You know how
irritating I am to live with.'
    'Well, of course I know that. I can't imagine
how Frank copes with you. I suppose it's because
you're both so detached and self-contained—' She
broke off, thinking of Jonah, and Hester raised her
eyebrows interrogatively. 'Jonah said that about
you. That you were as detached and serene as a
nun.' Clio hesitated. 'I said you'd nearly been one.
What happened, Hes? Why didn't you take the veil
or whatever you call it?'
    There was a short silence.
    'I couldn't deal with community life,' said Hester
at last. 'I was too arrogant: too self-willed. I had
wonderful ideas for reform and the sisters seemed
so obdurate and unwilling to contemplate change.'
She smiled briefly at a memory. Blaise had once
sent her a picture postcard of a flock of sheep,
standing immovably in the middle of a moorland
road, staring rather balefully towards the camera.
On the back he'd written: 'Community life?' He'd
understood her difficulties though he'd been sad
that she hadn't persisted. 'It's not easy, you know,
to surrender yourself wholeheartedly and generously.
Whether the relationship is with God or with
another person, there's a great deal of giving-up of
self involved in it. I couldn't do it.'
    'Not for anybody?'
    Hester glanced at her, a sharp bright look: 'Are
we playing "Truth"?' she asked lightly. 'You didn't
warn me first, you know.'
    Clio flushed. 'Sorry. It's just interesting to me,
especially at the moment, when you talked about
surrendering yourself.'
    Hester's gaze softened. 'I might have managed it
once. But in the end it wasn't required of me. Now
let me ask you a question. If Peter were to leave the
agency would you be content to continue to work
there?'
    Clio stared at her, the colour in her cheeks fading
as she contemplated her answer. 'No,' she said
slowly. 'I don't think so. I'd almost decided to leave
when Peter arrived. I felt I'd done it all, if you know
what I mean. I wanted something fresh. But then
Peter needed help to settle in and it was exciting
somehow, showing him the ropes, and then . . .
well, so then I stayed,' she finished rather lamely.
    'So if he were to go?'
    'But why should he go? Or are you asking if I'd
go with him?'
    She looked confused, as if Hester were posing a
difficult question – or even setting some kind of
trap – and Hester shook her head.
    'There's no hidden agenda here. I simply ask
whether you stay for Peter or for the job itself, that's
all.'
    The telephone bell saved Clio from finding an
answer and she jumped up quickly.
    'Hello. Oh, hi. How are you? We're fine. Yes,
honestly, she's doing really well. Hang on a minute.
Hester's right here. It's Amy,' she said, and saw
Hester's look of surprise as she took the phone to
speak to Patricia's granddaughter.
    Carrying her mug to the window, half listening
to Hester, Clio stared out into the garden. Away
from London, at a distance from her job and from
Peter, she was beginning to see just how precarious
their relationship was and she was dismayed. No
longer mesmerized by the radar-like beam of his
personality, she was able to question her feelings
for him – or was she simply overreacting because
she was hurt by his rather curt cancellation of the
trip to Bridge House?
    Sipping at her drink, listening to Hester's side of
the conversation, Clio was unexpectedly subject to a
violent stab of envy for Amy. This was foolish, she
told