Learning to Dance Read Online Free PDF Page B

will enjoy it. And the beautiful countryside around. Breakfast will be a little late this morning as we were disturbed in the night. Eight thirty.’
    ‘That’s absolutely fine.’ Judith had been moving towards her pillow and the precious master key, but stopped in her tracks. She had intended to tell the tale as humorously as possible and apologize profusely, but it was obvious that Robert Hausmann had said nothing about her. She swallowed her words, feeling bound to support him. She picked up the teapot. ‘This is real luxury. Thank you. I’ll see you later, I hope.’
    Irena Mann’s smile relaxed. She made her exit and Judith sipped her cup of tea and scrabbled the key into her handbag at the same time. She suddenly felt … different. She could not identify this feeling. But it was not an unhappy one. She was certain about that.

Three
    The dining room commanded a spectacular view of the coastline. Sybil Jessup was already standing in the window embrasure and looked round as Judith entered.
    ‘I had no idea we were cut off by the tide like this! It’s simply amazing – come and see!’
    It was the second long sentence she had said in Judith’s presence, and with such enthusiasm, too. Judith joined her, giving up on counting the words, staring in disbelief as she watched the water surge right across the causeway they had taken yesterday afternoon.
    ‘My God. Where’s the minibus? Has it gone?’
    Sybil actually laughed. ‘That was my first thought, too. The causeway is a sort of ramp – can you see? The castle end of it is quite clear of the water. I think the bus must be under cover somehow. And look … is that a cave? Wait till the wave recedes … yes, it is!’ She sounded like a schoolgirl.
    ‘Are we marooned?’ Judith asked fearfully.
    ‘Only until the tide drops, dear lady!’ Nathaniel Jones came in from the foyer, grinning from ear to ear and obviously as excited as Sybil Jessup. ‘The itinerary says it lasts about half an hour; not even that when the tides aren’t strong.’ He joined them at the window. ‘Something in our blood, don’tyou think? We love islands. Well … we’re an island race, after all!’ He guffawed then pointed out where their ‘coach’ and the owners’ cars were stabled. ‘Heard all about it last night – straight from the horse’s mouth, as it were!’ Another awful guffaw as he pulled out three chairs from the table closest to the window. ‘Sven and Margaret accompanied me to the Dove Inn, and Robert Hausmann was there! We had a proper reunion – his memory isn’t as good as mine, too much drink I imagine, so I refreshed it thoroughly!’ Judith took the proffered chair reluctantly and allowed herself to be bounced right into the table. Sybil remained stubbornly standing, watching the sea with evident fascination.
    Nathaniel seated himself, shook out his starched napkin and spread it over his knees. ‘There was another Jewish family in our street. They had a daughter our age – plain little thing, she was. Esmée. Esmée Gould. Robert couldn’t even remember her! We used to play together when we were kids. Street games, you know. Hoops and whips and tops and marbles in the gutter. That sort of play was on the way out then, but Esmée’s dad was our local postie – “Gould the Post” we called him – some called him “Goalposts” – how we laughed! He was around after school and he taught us all these games, and we loved ’em!’
    Sybil joined them. Nathaniel shook his head. ‘Robert couldn’t remember any of it. And we are our memories, aren’t we?’
    Sybil looked at him for a moment, surprised out of her excitement with the sea, then her eyes went past him to the doorway where the other four were entering and exclaiming at the view. Judith had a feeling she did not see them. But she was seeing something, somebody. Her eyes were big and grey and profoundly sad, like a widow’s.
    Jennifer Markham broke through Sven Olsen’s