Crescendo

'I adore salmon,' he said, and kissed her cheek.

They walked down the hill much faster than they had gone up, but it still took them half an hour to cover the distance to the village. As they passed the post office Mrs Robinson came hurrying out with Grandie's newspaper. Marina smiled and listened to the spilling sentences. When it was possible to move without being rude she smiled again and said they must go.

Walking towards the cottage, Gideon said with amusement, 'What does anyone need a newspaper for around here? Mrs Robinson does it for nothing.'

'They don't put the really interesting news in newspapers,' Marina said. 'When Mrs Dudeck locked her husband in the coal cellar for the night it never got published in the newspaper, but we all knew about it. And what newspaper would print the fact that the third Smith baby wasn't Mr Smiths but the milkman's?'

'Good heavens!' said Gideon, laughing loudly. 'How on earth did she know that?'

'Heaven knows. Guesswork or sheer invention or the fact that the poor baby has got ginger hair and so has the milkman.'

'For a quiet little community you seem to have a lot of scandal.'

'The quieter the community the more the scan­dal,' Marina told him gravely. 'Grandie firmly be­lieves she makes it all up, but I'm not so sure.'

Gideon moved silently beside her as they entered the cottage. 'Does she invent anything about Grandie?'

Marina turned her head quickly to look at him. 'What?' she asked.

Gideon's face was unreadable. 'God knows. You tell me.'

Marina frowned. 'I've never heard her say any­thing, but then that isn't the way she operates. She tells you everything about everyone else, but she never lets on what she knows about you.'

Gideon began to whistle softly under his breath. Grandie looked up as they entered the kitchen, his face tense and frowning. Marina kissed him lightly, hoping he wasn't going to be cross. He stared at her for a few seconds with intent probing, but then he smiled.

'You look as if you've had a warm climb.'

'It was fun,' she said. 'We lost some of our picnic to a horrid old crow, but Gideon ate the rest.'

'You had some salad and an apple,' Gideon pro­tested, his black eyes teasing.

'Big deal.' She looked at the bubbling saucepan Grandie was stirring. 'Stew?'

He nodded. 'Lamb,' he told her.

'Do yon like lamb stew, Gideon?' she asked.

'Love it,' said Gideon. He handed Grandie the paper and Grandie sat down with it at the table. Marina walked to the door.

'I think I'll change and have a wash.'

Grandie was staring at the newspaper and didn't answer. Gideon smiled at her, his eyes on her face.

'You've got a smut on your nose,' he told her as if it delighted him.

She made a face at him and went out. Glancing back as she closed the door, she caught sight of Grandie's face. He was still staring at the news­paper and he looked pale.

She washed and changed into a pale pink linen dress with a stiff round collar. When she got down to the kitchen the two men were talking quietly. They looked round and stopped speaking as soon as she entered the room.

Marina sat down and looked around for the paper. 'Where's the paper, Grandie? I want to read my stars. What's your birth month, Gideon? You look like an Arian.'

'Good lord,' he said, mocking her.

She opened her eyes. 'You aren't?'

'No,' he said, 'I'm not.'

They laughed as their eyes met.