September 1995
The morning sun, not knowing any better, stretched right in through the kitchen window and picked out the shadow beneath each of the vertebrae of Eva's spine as she sat at the kitchen table. One hand picked incessantly at a knot in the pinewood, the other was buried between tufts of hair, supporting her head, or, perhaps, squeezing it. The rising note of the kettle did not quite drown out the sound of drawers opening and closing, of rapidly emptied hangers jangling, in the adjacent room. The switch on the kettle clicked and Eve rose automatically to fill the two mugs sitting on the counter. She fished the bobbing teabags out with her fingers, as though there was not a tarnished teaspoon lying abandoned by the sink.
Squeezing past the suitcase in the hall, Eve pulled open the front door and stepped onto the smooth limestone doorstep. The air smelt of a recent shower and the fingers of an autumnal breeze ran across her bare arms and tugged at the loose cotton of her pyjamas. A neighbour waved to her from across the street and she raised a hand in greeting as he got into his car and pulled away. She looked down at the single milk-bottle standing by her bare feet, then looked away sharply. Biting the inside of her cheek, she swallowed. After a moment, she picked up the bottle and went back inside, wetting her forehead with the condensation on the glass. She made a sloppy job of pouring milk into the tea, leaving bluish-white rings on the dark formica as she lifted the mugs and went to lean against the door-jamb of the bedroom.
Bell was sitting on the edge of the bed, surrounded by papers, but staring at her feet. She shifted her gaze to stare at Eve's toes, then stood without raising her head. The movement of the mattress caused a pile of papers to cascade to the floor. Eve hastily placed the mugs onto the dresser and dropped to her knees, helping to gather the papers together again. She pulled a briefcase from the bottom of the wardrobe and opened it so that the papers could be placed inside. Ignoring their disorder, Bell jammed them in, the uppermost sheet ripping slightly as it caught on the metal catch.
'Bell?'
'Don't.'
Eve leant back against the wall and closed her eyes. Bell pushed past her and went into the bathroom. A moment later she was back, cramming items into the corners of the open case on the floor. Eve swallowed harshly again, then opened her eyes. She watched Bell stop to scan the room, saw her eyes fall upon their still reflection in the tall mirror inside the wardrobe door, and watched her falter. Eve didn't move and, after a moment, Bell looked away, reaching instead for the pair of boots lying on their side by the radiator. A minute later she was trying to tug the case shut. Eve reached over her crouching form and pushed the lid down, bringing together the threads of the zip. Bell froze.
'Don't.'
Eve let go, the contents of the case bulging out once more as she turned and left the room.
December 1990
'The sexton leant me the keys. He lives next-door. I watch his cats when he's away.'
Eve pushed open the door, flicked the light switch, then stepped back so that Bell could go first. Bell stepped into the stairwell and peered up, glancing back as Eve shut the heavy oak door.
'You've been up here before?'
'Yeah. Watch your step, the stairs are a bit worn in places.'
Bell climbed a couple of steps, then paused.
'I think you should go first.'
'Okay.' As Eve passed her, something inside her rucksack clinked.
'What's in there?'
'Wait and see.'
Eve set off, quickly disappearing around the tight curve of the spiral staircase. Bell placed one hand on the central column, worn smooth by the hands of generations of bell-ringers, and one on the cold cast-iron railing that curved inside the outer wall, and followed as fast as she could. She could hear Eve's disembodied breaths, always just around the next turn of the staircase. After they passed the door of the ringing chamber, the steps became less worn and uneven, but the passage narrowed and, a few turns later, at the landing for the belfry, the railing stopped.
'Watch out for pigeon shit on this bit.'
'Lovely.'
Eve took the last section of the staircase more slowly, listening to Bell panting slightly just behind her. When she glanced back, she could see the white line of Bell's parting as she climbed with her head bowed forward, eyes fixed on her feet.
'You're doing great. This bit's pretty steep.'
At the top of the stairs, Eve unlocked the small door and reaching back for Bell's hand, led her out onto the flat roof of the church tower.
As soon as they stepped away from the shelter of the door, they were hit by the wind. It rushed over the lip of the lead guttering and tore around the small weathered spires which rose at the tower's corners. Bell staggered back slightly.
'Bloody hell! There's no parapet.'
Eve nodded, grinning, and pulled her forward.
'Come and look.'
Bell followed, stopping a metre short of the unguarded edge and clinging to Eve's arm with both hands. Reluctantly, she dragged her eyes from her own white knuckles to the view before her. There lay West Mathey, picked out in orange streetlights, interrupted by the dark trail of the river and the unlit flood meadows on the eastern bank. The pale yellow face of the town hall clock, floated over the square in the old town centre, where strings of Christmas lights were hung between the lampposts.
'You can see the Christmas tree!'
'Yep?. and the illuminations on Bridge Street.' Eve pulled Bell across to the north side, where they could see the strings of red and green bulbs running up to the ponderous masonry of Callow Bridge. 'And the castle - there, look, behind the trees.'
In spite of herself, Bell stepped forward craning her neck in order to make out the floodlit ruins through the shadows of the broad sycamores on the motte. She smiled when Eve stepped forward quickly and grasped her sleeve as she neared the edge.
'Be careful.'
'This is great. How have I never been up here before?' Bell walked round to the south side, where two lines of terraced cottages ran up to the graveyard immediately below. 'Is that your street?'
'Yes. That's my house, number 14.' Bell held back the hair which was whipping across her face, and followed the line of Eve's finger.
'With the ivy?'
'Yep. Plays merry hell with the pointing, so the landlord keeps threatening to get rid of it, but I like it. There's a garden round the back too, with an apple tree. Actually, the apple tree is in next-door's garden, but the branches come over the wall, so I get the blossom in spring and the fruit in winter.'
'Scrumping from the sexton?'
'That's right.' Eve pulled Bell back to the east side, where she could see the town centre lights. 'Now look at that and don't turn round.'
'What?' Eve firmly turned Bell so that she was facing the town.
'Don't turn round.'
Eve stepped back and Bell folded her arms so that her bare hands were tucked under her armpits. She rocked on her heels, blowing out a cloud of frozen breath that was quickly carried away by the wind. She ignored the sound of clinking behind her and concentrated on the town stretching below.
'Are those red lights on the hospital?'
'Just a sec. Don't turn round.'
'I'm not looking. I didn't realise the hospital was so close to the river. I always come at it from the other direction. It's strange to see the town like this. I always think of the high street as being straight, but it isn't at all. I suppose it curves because of the river.' Bell blew out another puff of frozen air. 'The town's pretty quiet, isn't it? It's, what, an hour past closing?'
'Not quite. Quarter to midnight.'
'A quarter to twelve and West Mathey is already tucked up and sleeping.'
'It is a Monday.'
'True.'
Bell listened to the sound of a match being struck behind her, then another, and another.
'Everything okay?'
'Mmm.' Another match, and another. 'Shit.'
Bell looked over her shoulder. A dark red blanket was spread on the roof. The rucksack, a bottle of wine and Eve's feet held down three corners, while the fourth flapped in the wind. A cluster of unlit tealights lay around Eve's crouched form. Eve struck yet another match, cupping it carefully as she lowered it to one of the candles. The match went out before it reached the wick.
'Shit.'
Eve looked up and met Bell's gaze.
'Well, this was the surprise. Sorry.'
Bell grabbed the wine bottle which was threatening to topple and flopped onto the blanket, pinning down as much as she could.
'Don't be stupid.'
'I don't think I really thought this through.' Another match went out the instant it was struck.
'Looks like you did quite a bit of planning to me.'
'I give up.' Eve threw the matches into the rucksack. 'Would you like some wine?'
'Wine would be lovely. Thank you.' Eve passed Bell a glass. 'I can't believe you brought wine glasses up here.'
'I can't believe they didn't break.'
Bell turned the glass she had just been handed and so that the chip in the rim was covered by her hand.
'I know you're supposed to let red breathe but?.' Eve frowned at the bottle, then at the rucksack. She shook her head, ruefully. 'You wouldn't happen to have a corkscrew in your pocket, would you?'
Bell shook her head. Eve cleared her throat and put the bottle back into the bag. After a pause, Bell took off her scarf, wrapped it around the two glasses and carefully placed them into the rucksack as well. Eve started to gather up the tealights. Even in the low light, Bell could tell she was blushing.
'My Dad told me he once saw a Frenchman open a bottle of wine by banging the base against a tree trunk. Apparently it forces the cork out of the bottle.'
'Well, that would be smooth, but I don't think I'll risk giving it a try.'
'It doesn't matter, Eve. Really.' Bell lay back on the blanket, and tugged at Eve's arm. 'Come on, lie back so you can see the stars. There are thousands of tealights in the sky.'
'Tealights in the sky?' Eve lay back. 'Bell, it's cloudy.'
'Not over there it isn't. I can see stars over there.'
'That's an aeroplane.'
'No, not there. There.'
'Alright. There might be some stars over there.'
Bell smiled, tucking her cold hands behind her head.
'Imagine that all the streetlights are floating candles and we're lying in a boat on the ocean.' She breathed out a stream of frozen air. 'Or maybe on an iceberg, in the Polar Sea.' She noticed Eve prop herself up slightly, watching her. 'Imagine those bats that you've been pretending not to notice, are flying fish darting out of the water all around us and that aeroplane, and that one, and that one, imagine they're birds ? petrels, terns, shearwaters ? What?'
Eve lay back down. 'Nothing. Go on.'
'Imagine we've been lying here for a long time. For such a long time that the world has forgotten to bother us. But we've been listening all that time, listening to everything. Imagine that we know the sound of everything that's around us, so that we can lie completely still with our eyes closed on our boat and we can just feel the world lapping around us.'
There was a long pause in which Eve's teeth started to chatter.
And then the bells chimed midnight. The first stroke had them both sitting bolt upright, during the second and the third they stared at one another, feeling the bell's timbre through the fabric of the roof, but by the fourth they were laughing, sheepishly, and belatedly, more distantly, the town hall clock joined in.
'Do they ring like this every night?'
'Yep, every night, through the night. I think that the Church of England is pretty unpopular on my street. Except with the sexton, of course, but then they do pay him.'
When the chimes finished, their ears still rang. They sat side by side, Bell looking at the town again, Eve looking at Bell.
'Okay?'
Bell stuffed her hands between her raised knees. 'Okay.' Her teeth were chattering now as well. 'This is great.'
'Isn't it?'
A car alarm began to sound in the street below. Eve cleared her throat.
'I'm bloody freezing.'
'Me too.'
'Shall we get out of here?'
'Yeah.' Eve pulled Bell to her feet.
'Bell, you're not wearing any gloves! You're hands must be freezing! Come here.' Eve wrapped her open jacket around Bell, who slipped her arms around Eve's back knitting her fingers between the bumps of Eve's spine and the heavy fabric of her coat. 'I'm getting you gloves for Christmas.'
'I'm getting you a corkscrew.'
'I do have a corkscrew, you know.'
'Well, let's go and use it then.'
'Actually, right now I'm thinking more along the lines of a steaming cup of tea.'
September 1995
Eve was sitting at the kitchen table when Bell finally came out of the bedroom, dragging the case, while her briefcase banged against the wall. Bell paused by the hall table, picking up her wallet and a bunch of car keys, then opened the door and left. Eve leant forward and put her head on the table, running her forehead over the uneven grain. Then she stood and, picking up the second case which had been left standing in the hallway, followed Bell out onto the pavement in front of the house. The hatchback was already open, the backseat filled with boxes. Bell stood aside so that Eve could place the second case on top of the first, then slammed the boot and brushed past Eve on her way to the driver's door.
'Bell.'
When Bell paused, Eve reached out and slowly turned her round. She looked directly into Bell' eyes, but Bell looked away, her eyes reaching down the line of the redbrick terrace to the church on the corner. A group of sleepy boys traipsed past on their way to school. Neither woman moved. Then Eve stepped forward again and, gently tipping Bell's head toward her, placed a soft kiss into the very front of her parting. They stayed together, Bell with one hand curving over the thin material on Eve's shoulder, Eve with her nose buried in Bell's hair. Another group of boys pushed past. Bell pulled back.
'Okay?'
Eve looked from the front door, still standing ajar, to the loaded car, to Bell.
'Okay.'
The cars on the roadside were closely parked and it took Bell a few minutes to manoeuvre out of the space. Eve stood barefoot on the pavement and watched until the car reached the end of the road and filtered into the morning traffic, then she walked back inside and went straight into the bedroom. The wardrobe doors were still open, the cover on the bed was wrinkled and the dresser-top was bare, save for a door-key, an unlit tealight and two cold mugs of tea.