The Courtyard Read Online Free PDF Page A

first time since those early days at Britannia Royal Naval College, when he had been so determined to succeed as well as Rupert had at Sandhurst, he felt in control of his life and his future. He looked at Nell and his heart overflowed with all sorts of mixed emotions – gratitude, love, amazement – as he beheld her beauty. His wish that Rupert could see him now was diluted with the instinctive wave of relief that he was dead and that the lifelong contest was over. He was ashamed of that relief, knowing that the contest had only ever been on his side, never on Rupert’s. Rupert had been far too confident, successful, loved, ever to have felt the need to compete with anyone. Everything had come so easily to him. Their mother had adored Rupert whilst worrying over John. How humiliating, how crushing that worrying had been, made even more obvious by her confidence in Rupert and her reliance on him when their father died. How relieved John had been to pass the Admiralty Board and escape from beneath that canopy of care that made him feel like a child and sapped his confidence. The Navy and Nell between them had provided the passport to manhood and he had seized it gratefully. The honours at Dartmouth had eluded him but at least he had a son – Rupert hadn’t married – and then, quite suddenly, it was all over and Rupert was dead. His widowed mother was devastated by grief and John, confused and ashamed that his overwhelming emotion was relief that Rupert would not now know that he had failed Perisher, attempted to comfort her. Surely
now, with both Rupert and his father dead, he would at last come into his own. He would be head of the family and his mother could turn to him for guidance and comfort as she had turned to his father and later to Rupert.
    â€˜Oh, John,’ she’d said, her eyelids swollen, her face sodden and shapeless with tears, ‘what shall we do without him?’ And she wept again. Presently she pulled herself together a little and patted his hand. ‘Never mind,’ she said, as one who was making the best of a bad job but intending to be brave about it, ‘I’ve still got you.’ But her eyes wandered to Rupert’s photograph and, unconsciously, she sighed and John was aware of his inadequacy and knew that his desire to be recognised on equal terms with his brother was to remain unfulfilled.
    Now, six years later, John dragged his thoughts away from the past, finished his drink abruptly and smiled at Nell.
    â€˜Let’s eat,’ he said.
    Â 
    GUSSIE WAS SURPRISED AND thrilled to receive an invitation to Nethercombe for Christmas. She couldn’t believe her luck. Now that the last of her friends had been installed in a residential home too far away to be visited, Gussie was beginning to feel the loneliness of old age creeping up on her. There were simply too many hours in the day in which to keep happily employed since she had retired from the university library. Her friendship with Nell was a blessing but she could hardly expect to spend Christmas with her and, even should Nell offer, she would have too much pride to accept the invitation. Nethercombe was different. Nethercombe was, in a way, her home and Henry her cousin. To Gussie the ties of blood were strong and contained obligations and she would not feel that she would be intruding at Nethercombe, grateful though she was at Henry’s thinking of her.
    His letter was typical of the sort of communication that she had received from him during the years: short, somewhat haphazard, tending to go off at tangents. He wrote as he thought and as he spoke and his letters always recalled him very vividly to her mind. At least it
sounded as though he found married life satisfactory but Gussie was not convinced. Her first impressions were usually reliable and it was very early days. She was looking forward to being able to observe for herself exactly what sort of fist Gillian was making of her