Page 43 of Searching for Mr Tilney

‘Well, he’s got a funny way of showing it. If I liked someone and wanted to see them I’d at least write them a letter.’

‘What if he wrote to someone else telling them about his feelings? Would that make a difference?’ There was silence for a moment, and then I watched in disbelief as Piers took an envelope from his pocket and put it in front of me.

I looked up to see him smiling, and tears sprang to my eyes. He handed over a clean, pressed handkerchief, before putting his hand over the letter.

‘Do you want to read it, or shall I read out the relevant parts?’

I wiped my eyes, and blew my nose, promising to launder his hankie at the next opportunity.

‘Is it from Harry?’ I said at last. ‘I think if it is, I should like to read it.’

Piers nodded, and put the envelope into my hands.

There was quite a lot about what he’d been doing at university, and some discussion on theological arguments that they’d talked about on several occasions, and then the letter changed its subject and tone completely.

I know you won’t mind me telling you how much I enjoyed meeting you and Caroline. I’m writing to ask your advice because I’ve spent so many sleepless nights not knowing quite what to do. I cannot get that wonderful girl out of my head, no matter what I do - I thought it would be better if I gave her a chance to get on with her life in London, in the hope that it would give her time to concentrate on her final year studies. I decided, in the end, a clean break would be better for both of us - I thought it would be just a matter of time before I’d be able to carry on with my life. But, I find far from forgetting her or moving on, I think about her more every day, and wish I’d written to let her know just how much I enjoyed our time together. It was just a few short weeks, but I’ve never known anyone like her, and I wish I could have the chance to get to know her better. Am I too late? I hardly want to know your answer because a girl like Caroline isn’t going to be single for long. Please help, Piers - I’ve been an idiot, and I really want to make it up to her if there’s a chance, but I’ll leave well alone if she’s found someone else.

I hope you’ll let me know by the next post,

Your friend always,

Harry

I cried a little bit more, but they were tears of happiness until I realised that if we started writing letters I’d be all consumed by him as quickly as I’d been at Christmas. As much as I wanted him in my life, and was pleased he felt the same, there just wasn’t any way we would probably see one another again. I hadn’t got a penny to spend on travelling, and though the Easter holidays were looming, I knew I hadn’t a hope of getting to Bath.

‘Before you give me your answer, Ellen asked me to pass on a little message. She and Roger are going up to Bath after Easter Sunday for a fortnight, and they want to know if you’d like to go with them.’

I couldn’t help myself, even in the elegant atmosphere of the Savoy. I jumped up out of my seat to run round to Piers’ side of the table, throwing my arms round his neck and kissing him on both cheeks.

‘I’ll take that as a yes, then,’ he said, leaning back in his chair and laughing at me, before motioning to the waiter to open the champagne.

I went back to my seat in complete happiness, as if I were floating above the ground. One or two ladies in very smart hats smiled indulgently, and I heard one whisper that she thought we’d just got engaged, which made me smile. I didn’t care what anyone was saying or what anyone thought. In just a week’s time I was going to Bath, and I couldn’t be happier.

‘You will write to him straight away, won’t you?’ I begged.

‘It’s done already, my darling,’ said Piers biting into a dainty ham and mustard sandwich, ‘I didn’t want to miss the post, and I knew exactly what your answer would be. All you have to do is get a few nights of decent sleep or Harry will wonder if he’s fallen in love with a wraith.’

I laughed at his teasing words, and knew that sleeping that night was probably going to be no easier than the last few months had been, but I didn’t care. I was the happiest girl in the world.

***

Caroline

Chawton, Hampshire

April 1976

Mum and I enjoyed a lovely Easter together. After church on Sunday, which was filled with the scent of spring flowers and sunshine filtering through stained glass, we went home to the smell of roast lamb just finishing off in the oven, and all I had to do was help lay the table, and help with the last minute rituals - finding the vegetable dishes and piling them full with the crispy potatoes, and sweet carrots, while she made the gravy. We opened a bottle of wine and sat at the huge dining table where a bowl of marble eggs took centre stage, flanked by two vases of yellow daffodils, the perfect foil for the Morris papered walls of blue pomegranates. I couldn’t help thinking about my dad, who always loved Easter even if it was a busy time for him, and when I looked at my mother, her eyes were misted, and I knew she was thinking of him too.

‘He’d be so proud of you,’ she said, putting out her hand to squeeze mine with affection, and we both knew she didn’t have to say his name out loud to know whom she was talking about.

‘I hope so,’ I answered, ‘I shall feel that’s much more likely to be true if I can complete my course, and do as well as I ought.’

‘You will, I’m certain, but it mustn’t be at the expense of your health, Caroline. I’m sure that’s why you were ill in the first place - you’d been working too hard. Anyway, I’m so grateful to Ellen for taking you away again. You do want to go, don’t you? You’re not just going to please her … I know she can be very persuasive.’

‘No, I’m going to please myself, you can be sure of that.’

She pulled a funny half-smile, and I knew she was going to tease me. ‘I suppose you’ll have the chance to see Harry again. You like him very much, don’t you?’