Sensible Life (43 page)

Getting to his feet, Cosmo was annoyed to find he was stiff.

Flora’s dog sneezed and started off down the hill at a joyful canter. Flora followed at a half-trot.

At the foot of the hill the last of the ram-roasters were piling into their cars, switching on headlights, revving their engines, shouting goodbyes before driving off. Flora, cantering sideways down the steep slope, thought, If I put on a spurt I could join them, get away, leave him behind, go back to my cottage, light the fire, have a hot bath, put the cat out, and go to bed with my book. Then she thought, He is not someone to be remembered with amused affection like Hubert, or with regretful pity like Felix who, for all his heroism, failed me. Cosmo is here, behind me, trying to keep up, he is
real.
Then she thought, He doesn’t know this path as I do, he may trip in the dark and fall, and she slowed her pace. She heard Cosmo slip and curse. He yelled angrily, “Don’t run away from me, damn you. Wait.” And, catching up with her, he said, “I nearly went to Pengappah to spend the night, but there are unfortunate memories.” Flora’s laugh was snatched by the wind. “And as I began my drive from Bodmin to London I resolved to take a pull on myself and be sensible.”

Flora said, “Wouldn’t that be rather risky?”

The last of the cars had gone as they reached the road. Cosmo said, “Where’s your car?”

She said, “I walked.”

He said, “Get into mine,” and unlocked his car door.

Flora said, “My dog is muddy.”

Cosmo said, “Stop quibbling.”

The dog leapt into the car and sat on the back seat. Cosmo said, “That animal has a lot more sense than we have,” and put his arms round Flora and, holding her close, hugged her. Then he said, “Let me kiss your eyes,” and, “Don’t tell me you are crying.”

Flora said, “It’s the rain.”

Cosmo said, “First time I’ve come across salt rain.”

Flora said, “Why don’t we get into the car, which is dry?”

Cosmo said, “I’d better warn you, I’ve given Coppermalt to my nephew, Mabs’ boy.”

Flora said, “I’m not marrying you for Coppermalt.”

Cosmo said, “Oh, darling, what a lot of time we have wasted. How shall we ever catch up?”

Flora said, “There will be less time for squabbling.”

Mary Wesley (1912–2002) was an English novelist. After she published her first novel at age seventy, her books sold more than three million copies, many of them becoming bestsellers. Her beloved books include
Jumping the Queue
,
The Camomile Lawn
,
Harnessing Peacocks
,
The Vacillations of Poppy Carew
,
Not That Sort of Girl
,
Second Fiddle
,
A Sensible Life
,
A Dubious Legacy
,
An Imaginative Experience
, and
Part of the Furniture
, as well as a memoir,
Part of the Scenery
.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1990 by Mary Wesley

Cover design by Linda McCarthy

978-1-4804-4994-7

This edition published in 2013 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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New York, NY 10014

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