“You mean the fox?”
“Aye, the fox.And he don’t tell no tales, the rascal.”
“I…I just can’t.”
Something made small ripples on the surface of the pond.There must be fish.Sticklebacks, perhaps.I craned forwards.Maybe it was newts.At the far side of the pond, the water grew deeper, the colour of ale.The water would be refreshing, but not icy.I could wash away all the sweat and stink and strain of the day.And afterwards, when I had dressed, my skin would feel cool, as if it carried within it the memory of the water.
“Maybe you ain’t rector down here.”Jem had put his arm over his face.“Not in this little old wilderness where no one ever comes.Down here, maybe you’re just plain Master Willie as was?”
I stared, glad he wasn’t looking at me, for his words were causing strange feelings to course through me, as though the current of the stream had risen up and was washing something away.
It would be like calling on Trafford, only the other way around, because this time, I would be calling on myself.Or, myself as I once had been: Master Willie: Young, hungry, lonely, solemn, terrified of doing the wrong thing.And yet, somehow, also able to splash about with Jem in the eel pond at Branley Chase on hot summer afternoons.
“I don’t know,” I said.
He began to smile.“Know you want to.”
“What if someone comes?Mrs Fowke, or Milly.”
“They don’t come down here.”He lifted his arm, glanced at me.“I’ll keep watch though, if you like.Downstream.”
“Maybe I could bathe my feet.”That was something even Trafford might do since it was true there were no ladies about, nor likely to be any.
“Aye.Ease into it, like.”
I removed my shoes and stockings and bathed my feet, and presently Jem said he was just going downstream a little way and pointed out a branch that grew at a good angle for hanging my clothes over.But as he turned away, I was seized with sudden fear, almost panic.It was not of being left alone, exactly, for it was a beautiful place and on my own glebe land.I had a right to be here.I could not explain why my heart pounded, nor why his leaving should feel so unacceptable.
“Jem?”
He half-turned, eyebrows raised.
“Don’t go.”
“Will I not keep watch?”
“No.You should bathe too.”I had not known that was the reason until I said it, but of course that was what was wrong with him leaving.In the past we had always bathed together.“You want to, don’t you?”
“Well.”He looked at me, head cocked to the side.“Won’t deny I’m all of a muck sweat.”
“I’ll go in if you will.”
He smiled, for it was what I always used to say, and said, “Aye, all right then.”
He began to unbutton his waistcoat and I did the same with clumsy fingers.I removed my neck-cloth and paused, but Jem was pulling his shirt over his head and unlacing his boots.I did not want to get left behind so I began to hurry as well, and soon I was undressing as if the woods were on fire and my life depended upon getting into the water as quickly as possible.
It felt strange to stand naked in the woods and I could not help glancing over my shoulder, still half expecting to see Lady Catherine herself marching down the slope with horrified disapproval writ across her face.
But Jem was already stepping gingerly into the brook, and wading to the deepest part.His bulk was white in the dappled shade, only his hands and face burnt nut-brown by the sun.He knelt, then plunged forwards, submerging briefly.He rose with a dog-like shake of the head, then crouched there, only his head and shoulders above the level of the water, hair shining with wet.
“Cold!”He was puffing and grinning.“Good though.Deeper than it looks.”
I followed his path into the water, first wading, then kneeling, then allowing myself to fall forwards into the water.He had stirred up debris from the bottom and old leaves and twigs brushed my face and the sudden cold made my nerves shout and quiver.I surfaced, gasping and spluttering, and he clasped my wrist and pulled me to the head of the pool where there were willow roots to cling onto.
“There.”He shook his head again to get the wet hair out of his eyes.“Prime, eh?”
“Yes.Prime.”
I let myself stretch out the length of the pool next to him.Above us, midges danced, and the smell of green things and flowers and leaf mould was everywhere, as if all the perfumes of the year from spring to winter were distilled into the brook.As it flowed, the water caressed me in places I did not often think of; the small of my back, my fundament, the tops of my thighs.