Page 7 of Searching for Mr Tilney

‘I keep telling him he’ll never get a girlfriend if he looks so scruffy,’ said the girl at his side, ‘and I think he scrubs up quite well. The trouble is he’s always got his head stuck in a book, and doesn’t realise he’s turning into a hairy ape.’

I laughed. So, she wasn’t his girlfriend, and when she laughed too, I realised they had a similar mouth.

‘This is Elsa, my wonderfully persuasive and excessively truthful sister,’ he said, ‘and I’m Harry … Tate.’

‘It’s lovely to meet you both, I’m Caroline Heath,’ I managed to say as the conductor appeared to resounding applause, tapping his baton before the orchestra struck up the opening bars of the overture.

The performance started and we didn’t have any more chance to chat. It wasn’t a play after all, and though I enjoyed it, I wondered what Dickens might have felt about his book being turned into a musical, which dispelled a lot of the dread and spookiness of the tale. I felt very self-conscious sitting next to Harry, but a couple of times we laughed out loud at the same things, and he turned to whisper in my ear three times to comment in a jokey way, which helped to put me at my ease.

In the interval I introduced Ellen properly to the Tates, and when Elsa suggested we go and find an ice cream I agreed straight away. She was really friendly, and Harry ushered us along, holding doors open for us, as we chatted away. Ellen and Roger headed off for the bar where two gin and tonics were waiting, and so I was left alone with my new friends.

‘Are you here in Bath for long?’ asked Elsa.

‘Just about six weeks, we’re going back home to Hampshire for Christmas,’ I said, and thought I should add some explanation. ‘I’m here for a little holiday … I’ve been ill and having to take some time off from art school.’

‘Oh, you poor thing,’ said Elsa. ‘Where do you study … are you a painter?’

‘No, I’m hoping to be a fashion designer … I’m studying at St Martin’s in London.’

‘Are you really? It must be wonderful to be in London surrounded by galleries and famous designers. I’m at Bath University reading history … Harry’s there too … in his final year.’

I was surprised when she said that, and hoped it didn’t show on my face.

‘I love history,’ I said, ‘though I only read historical novels or watch programmes on television, if I’m honest. You must be so clever, history lessons at school used to make my brain ache with trying to remember all those lines of kings and queens, treaties and wars. All those close texts, and dates … I’m so hopeless with numbers.’

‘But, you’ve got a creative brain, which I envy, and I must admit, there are times when I’d far rather read a historical novel than wade through a lot of boring facts to find a nugget of information I need for an essay,’ added Elsa.

‘I love the way authors can bring a period of history to life, make up the conversations between historical characters, and add in their own theories,’ I said. ‘I suppose it’s impossible to do that if you’re a historian dealing with facts.’

‘And yet, I’m sure most history is based on fiction,’ interrupted Harry, ‘inspired by ideas and theories, many of which cannot be ultimately proved, unless we could become time travellers.’

‘Yes, that’s very true,’ said his sister, ‘though I’m grateful that’s not possible. If you’re a man, it might be an exciting idea, but I’d be frightened to find myself in a time where women were merely looked upon as chattels and goods.’

I couldn’t help thinking about the girl I’d seen in my room until I realised Elsa was asking me a question.

‘When will you be able to go back to art school?’

‘I’m hoping to go back next term, though in a way I’m dreading it; I’ve so much to do. It’s going to feel a bit lonely for a while working on my own. I do envy you having a sibling to study with.’

‘It’s good having Harry around,’ said Elsa with a grin, ‘though we do live apart.’

I could see the resemblance between them, though Harry was dark-haired with blue eyes, and Elsa fair with grey eyes.

‘She only calls me when she wants a revision partner or when she needs help fighting off undesirable men.’

‘That’s just not true,’ Elsa said nudging him playfully, ‘and, I can look after myself, thank you, Harry. Anyway, I think you probably ask for more help with revision than I do.’

I thought how warm they both seemed, and though they obviously enjoyed teasing one another it was done with a lot of affection that was lovely to watch.

‘What are you studying, Harry?’ I asked.

‘Theology … for my sins,’ he said and grinned at his own joke.

My eyebrows rose inadvertently, I was so surprised. I couldn’t help looking at him differently, and I realised I’d made up my own ideas about him.

As if he could read my mind he added, ‘I just wait on tables part-time to earn a little money until I become a renowned philosopher on world religion.’

I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me straight away until his lips curved into a huge smile making his blue eyes twinkle.