Jump.

Gwenny gave a raucous caw of agreement and snuggled up between Etta's blanketed legs.

'How did Mr Edwards find me?' Etta asked timidly.

'Trixie was worried you was driving to Weybridge. Valent tried your mobile number and when he got no answer he hijacked Woody before he got plastered like the others. Then they saw the Polo and your red s.h.i.+rt. So romantic, the papers want to talk to you. Brilliant to save Mrs Wilkinson, poor Chisolm will be hoppin' to miss the fun.'

Etta let Mop Idol rabbit on and her tea get cold, totally distracted trying to remember the blissful thing Valent had said to her last night. Had she dreamt it? 'Gallant Valent', he'd been so amazing rescuing her.

'Where's Bonny?' she asked.

'In Bath.'

Etta looked out of the window. The valley steamed like a victorious racehorse, everything dripped. She could see lots of people with cameras and a television van beyond the gates.

'Oh goodness.'

'You don't have to talk to them.'

'My hair's such a mess, and this red s.h.i.+rt.'

'Borrow something of Bonny's. A nice white s.h.i.+rt, she only wears things once.'

Having a quick shower however, Etta caught sight of an upright pink pig in the long bathroom mirror and realized it was her own plump body with its 'dinner for one' spare tyre.

Amid Bonny's battalion of make-up, needed to create that natural look, she found a magnifying mirror, in which she could see a watery sun caressing the lines on her face, her crepey b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the pleated skin on the inside of her arms. As she came out of the bathroom, she noticed a huge ravis.h.i.+ng blow-up of Bonny hanging on the wall looking down the stairwell: naked but 'tasteful, resonant and empowering'. After Bonny, how could Valent fancy an old biddy like herself? She'd been such a fool over Seth, she must stop herself falling in love with Valent. Crumpets and Midsomer Murders Midsomer Murders with Painswick were all she could hope for. She must stop crying. with Painswick were all she could hope for. She must stop crying.

She had put on her clothes, including the red s.h.i.+rt Mop Idol had washed and dried, and was just wondering what to do next take Priceless for a swim? when Romy swept in.

'We're back, we're back. We heard the news this morning and saw the papers. Of course it's the silly season or they wouldn't have made such a fuss, but we felt we couldn't desert you must have been frightening. The road's cut off still so we can't check the bungalow yet, but I'm sure it will be all right when the water goes down. Anyway, for the moment you must stay with us at Harvest Home.'

'But I'm staying here,' stammered Etta.

'Mrs Bancroft's had a terrible shock,' said Mop Idol quickly. 'She's just lost her home. Mr Edwards insisted she stay.'

'One must keep a sense of proportion,' said Romy, who wanted a live-in babysitter to free up her and Martin for work during the summer holidays. 'People in the third world are much worse off. Could we be alone for a minute?' She opened the door. Reluctantly Mop Idol left them.

'Valent is a very kind man,' Romy waved a finger at Etta, 'but you can't stay here. Bonny's coming home later. With her away on tour so much, they need their special precious time together. Remember how you got the wrong idea about Seth.'

Romy in fact had met Bonny in Bristol earlier in the week to discuss the WOO launch. During a lunch of lettuce, cuc.u.mber and plain yoghurt, Bonny had begged Romy yet again to get Etta off Valent's back. 'I'm fed up with her fawning all over him.'

'It's important to know when you're not wanted, Etta,' went on Romy. 'It's so undignified to throw yourself at men at your age,' she added brutally. 'So let's get you over to Harvest Home.'

'What about Gwenny and Priceless?' whispered Etta.

'Not invited,' snapped Romy. 'Priceless is Seth's responsibility and Gwenny belongs to Poc.o.c.k.'

When Valent rang Harvest Home to raise h.e.l.l about the hijacking of Etta he was for once outsmarted by Martin, who thanked him profusely 'for saving Mother's life. If it hadn't been for your quick thinking, things could have been serious. Afraid you can't talk to Mother, she's actually fast asleep. I think she felt safe the moment she got to us she doesn't want to take personal calls. The great thing is I've been down to the bungalow and the water's dropping. It'll clean up OK. Fortunately Mother kept Dad's photographs and letters on a special high shelf, and they're unharmed. She would have been heartbroken if they'd been ruined.'

Thank G.o.d he and Carrie had appropriated most of Etta's more valuable things when she left Bluebell Hill.

Poppy was the most excited that her grandmother was coming to stay, and by her adventures.

'All the same, Granny, it's a shame you didn't die, then I could have gone on television saying what a caring grandmother you were and put tulips outside the bungalow and all my friends would have cried and hugged me.'

108.

From the safety of the stage at the Theatre Royal, Bath, Seth was greeted by applause even louder than the water thundering down Willowwood high street.

After a rapturously received Sat.u.r.day night performance, he had returned to Willowwood on Sunday afternoon, having been summoned by an outraged Martin to retrieve his dog. Seth was relieved to discover the Old Rectory at the top of the village was unflooded, and the delphiniums in the garden had been toppled (since they laid off Poc.o.c.k) by bindweed rather than downpour. Corinna was currently wowing Broadway with Mother Courage Mother Courage and Bonny had returned to Badger's Court and Valent. As the ground floor of the Fox had been flooded, Seth met his friend Alan in the skittle alley upstairs. and Bonny had returned to Badger's Court and Valent. As the ground floor of the Fox had been flooded, Seth met his friend Alan in the skittle alley upstairs.

Outwardly Seth was in cracking form, but secretly he was irked by the fuss Bonny was making over the ma.s.sive publicity afforded to Gallant Valent's rescue of Mrs Wilkinson and Etta.

There was no ice because the pub

'It was like being on the t.i.tanic, t.i.tanic,' grumbled Chris, who was polis.h.i.+ng gla.s.ses. 'Water gushed in through the walls and the floorboards.'

'b.l.o.o.d.y bad luck,' commiserated Alan.

'This'll all make a great chapter for your book on Wilkie,' said Seth.

'b.l.o.o.d.y needs to,' said Alan gloomily. 'I've a feeling the publishers won't find enough bullying and s.e.xual abuse in Depression Depression for today's market.' for today's market.'

'Interview Bonny. She loves rabbiting on about her journey. You been flooded?' Seth asked Alan.

'Only the cellar, we found a dead rat floating there.'

'Probably Harvey-Holden.'

'Au contraire,' sighed Alan, 'the little weasel is very much alive and gloating because his yard's untouched, unlike poor Marius, who's had two furlongs of his new all-weather washed away.'

'Jesus that bloke's star-crossed. How's Etta?'

'In floods in all senses of the word poor angel. That bungalow Martin built for her nearly disappeared beneath the water.'

'Which would have benefited Willowwood aesthetically.'

'Oh, shut up,' grinned Alan. 'Even worse, b.l.o.o.d.y Romy whisked her away from Badger's Court, insisting she stay with her and Martin, but they wouldn't allow her to take Gwenny and Priceless so they've all moved in with us until-'

'That's very kind of you to take in Priceless,' Seth interrupted quickly. 'Great weight off my mind, couldn't take him on tour. Let me buy you a drink.' Seth splashed vodka from the bottle into Alan's gla.s.s, topping it up with tomato juice and Worcester sauce before filling his own. 'How's little Trixie?'

'b.u.t.tering Gwenny's paws and the house because Gwenny keeps escaping.'

'Lucky Gwenny.' Seth wondered if he dared have another go at calling Trixie to beg forgiveness for the Stratford foursome. Bonny would go ballistic if she found out.

'How's Private Lives Private Lives going?' asked Alan. going?' asked Alan.

'Fantastic sold out in every city possible film in the offing. Oh G.o.d, here comes the Major to bore us.'

The Major was in a high state of chunter and statistical overkill.

'Last time we had this much rain in Larks.h.i.+re was in July 'sixty-eight. Folk rushed around providing portable toilets.'

'It was Bolton's moat bursting its banks wot did it,' accused Chris, handing the Major a tepid pint.

'Jude probably fell in,' said Alan.

'Willowwood should sue Bolton collectively,' said Seth.

'And the planners and the Parochial Church Council he bribed,' said Alan slyly.

The Major choked on his beer.

'Must keep a sense of proportion,' he spluttered. 'All Larks.h.i.+re's been hit. Hundreds of people trapped in their cars. Thousands still without power. A hundred and eighty thousand homes without water.'

'Let them drink Scotch,' said Seth.

'Debbie is very distressed all the carp in her pond were swept away. I intend to form an action group to address the problem of flood defence.'

'I hear the banging of stable doors,' Alan shook his head.

'Whatever happens, council tax will go up,' said Chris, emptying the vodka bottle into Seth's gla.s.s.

'And how's your Tilda Flood defence, my dear?' murmured Seth to Alan.

'Non-existent, I adore her and the poor darling's school's been trashed, but shut up about it.'

'Only if you tell your sweet daughter to call me. I've got an idea for when Corinna comes back from America: we'll give an evening of Shakespeare and perhaps Noel Coward to raise money for the flood victims. Trixie loves Shakespeare. Maybe she could help. What d'you think, Norman?'

But the Major was off bellyaching about Larkminster Council who were offering free sandbags. 'But when Debbie and I rolled up this morning they were only handing out bags with no sand in them, which are utterly useless.'

'Why don't they use the obese as sandbags?' suggested Seth. 'Give them a feeling of self-worth. They could start with Jude. It'd be better than pounding the streets with Martin to raise awareness for WOO.'

'That is in deplorable taste,' exploded the Major. 'Jude is a lovely lady.'

109.

Even though she'd been lucky enough to keep Priceless and Gwenny with her at Russet House, Etta was fretting about what she was going to feed them on, now the village shop had been flooded out. Priceless also needed a walk.

'I must take him,' she wailed, rearing out of bed.

'You've got to rest,' ordered Trixie, adding hopefully, 'Dad should be home in a minute. I'm defrosting a chicken for everyone's supper and I'll take Priceless out for a quick walk. I know he hates getting wet, so we'll go east across Farmer Fred's land.'

Outside, everything dripped and reeked of sewage, and Farmer Fred's fields had been replaced by huge lakes of pale brown water with clean-washed cows and very white sheep grazing on the still green high ground. Yesterday's deluge had bowed down the willows and flattened the shocking-pink willow herb growing along the footpath, which had become a rus.h.i.+ng stream. A light breeze ruffled the yellow antlers of the wild honeysuckle.

Priceless bounded in front, picking his feet out of the water, tossing his head from side to side, to beckon her on, before charging off in search of rabbits. Despite the muggy closeness of the evening, Trixie s.h.i.+vered. She had been jolted by how close her grandmother and Wilkie had come to death. She must try to enjoy life more.

Suddenly Priceless gave a bark of joy and loped forward as a tall, dark and decidedly handsome man emerged from the shadowy hazel grove ahead. The smell of sewage retreated, giving way to the musky lemon scent of Terre. And Trixie's heart failed. It was Seth. She must keep her feet on the terre terre.

'Go away,' she whispered in horror, as he fell into splas.h.i.+ng step beside her, 'I so don't want to see you.'

'Darling, please, please, please listen to me,' Seth begged, 'I only want to say how desperately sorry I am about Stratford. It was appalling. My only defence is I was so relieved the first night had gone well, I got absolutely plastered. Four in a bed was all Rogue's idea, he was so desperate to s.h.a.g Bonny.' The more Seth lied, the more truthful he made it sound. 'And in vino veritas, the only thing I wanted to s.h.a.g was you. I've never desired a woman,' how flatteringly his deep voice lingered over the word, 'the way I desire you. I'm afraid that night my vile animal nature overcame me.'

'Don't blame animals, they've got much nicer natures than you,' said Trixie furiously. She must not look into his face or she'd be lost. She wished her heart would stop thumping and she wished she could breathe again. But when she slipped in the mud, his hand caught her elbow and he left it there.

'Please forgive me,' his voice became hypnotically mesmerizing, 'just give me a second chance. I can't bear us not to be friends, I so adored coaching you.'

'"Come, my coach,"' said Trixie sarcastically, but as they walked on, jumping to avoid the puddles, the fingers of his left hand somehow plaited with the fingers of her right.

'"Had he come all the way for this?"' he spoke melodramatically, '"To part at last without a kiss."'

'Who said that?' asked Trixie sulkily.

'William Morris in a poem appropriately called "The Haystack in the Floods". Although he wrote it about a girl, I know I'm too old for you. I've tried to back off but I can't stop wanting you.'

As he dropped her hand and laid his, warm and caressing, on the back of her neck, she couldn't resist putting her head back to trap it. She noticed, in the setting sun, meadow browns and peac.o.c.k b.u.t.terflies going berserk in the nettles. Like me, she thought, giddy with relief, now he's beside me again.

'Where's Bonny?' she asked even more sulkily.

'Rushed back to minister to gallant Valent. She does love him in her way.'

'Poor sod, how can you put up with her?'

'I have to act I'm in love with her on stage. Like that silly old joke. "Did Ophelia sleep with Hamlet?" "Always on tour, but never in the West End."'

Trixie laughed. She could hear Marius's horses calling to each other. Above Throstledown, Jupiter had risen dazzling gold. The breeze ruffling the drenched trees sounded like rus.h.i.+ng water.

The raging stream pouring across the footpath was filling up her gumboots, so Seth picked her up. Reaching the other side, wondering complacently if he was the reason she'd lost so much weight, he found her trembling mouth on a level with his, and kissed it very gently.

'Please forgive me. Can't we start seeing each other again?'

'Not if you're going to cool off. I'm not Priceless, to be dumped when you've got better things or women to do.'

'I promise.'

As Seth put her down, Priceless took off again, dispersing a party of rabbits taking refuge from flooded holes on a gra.s.sy hillock. As Trixie waded on, trying to stay in control, she caught sight of a blue plastic bag full of yellow daisies lying in the long gra.s.s.

'What's that?' asked Seth.

'Ragwort. Poisonous for horses if it's not pulled up. Gives them ulcers, kills them eventually. Just as loving you destroys me,' she said bitterly before she could stop herself.

'Darling, you mustn't say that.'

'I ought to get back.' Turning round she could see windows dimly lit by candles because most of Willowwood's houses still had no power.