Witchstone. Anne Mather
his catalogue. He was nodding in a satisfied way and Jake said: ‘What do you think?’
‘Oh, I think so—very definitely,’ remarked Walter, patting Jake on the shoulders. ‘Shall we go downstairs?’
The library was quite extensive, with a comprehensive collection of classical literature as well as many modern novels. Among the rarer volumes was a first folio of Shakespeare’s plays, and a German Bible which Jake told Ashley was a common constituent among book collections. The most valued item was an illuminated manuscript illustrating one of the books of the New Testament, and this was kept apart from the others and no one was allowed to handle it.
But Ashley was quite content to browse through the rest of the books, and she was glad she was able to do so when a group of collectors finally annexed Jake and took him away to see some paintings which were stacked indiscriminately at the bottom of the staircase.
She glanced at her watch. There was a decidedly hollow feeling now in the region of her stomach, and she was not surprised to discover it was half past twelve. Jake had said the sale was due to start at noon, but obviously he had been mistaken. She sighed. Perhaps she should have asked her aunt to make them some sandwiches. It seemed apparent that they were not going to have time for any lunch.
The sale eventually began at one o’clock, starting with the smaller items and gradually progressing to the larger ones. A room had been cleared at the back of the house and chairs were provided for those who wanted to sit down. Ashley found herself with Walter Beswick, half a dozen other men separating her from Jake, and she sat rather dejectedly in one of the hard wooden chairs wishing she had the effrontery to push her way through to Jake’s side. But he seemed absorbed, and she felt too young and inexperienced to act any differently.
All the small moveable items for auction were brought into the room, but Walter took the time to explain that the buyers were expected to examine the larger items before the sale and bid for them from the numbers in their catalogues.
There were quite a number of paintings, mostly portraits and landscapes, which even Ashley could see were practically worthless. But there was a picture by Gauguin which appealed to her very much, and she was not surprised to discover that Jake was interested in it, too. The bidding was brisk, but she was disappointed when Jake dropped out and another man bought it for what seemed like a reasonable sum. She wished she had been near enough to commiserate with Jake, but when next she caught a glimpse of him he didn’t appear too concerned.
The library came next, and as expected the illuminated manuscript caused quite a stir. But afterwards, apart from one or two editions which were sold separately, the majority of the books were bought by a dealer from Leeds. Ashley felt quite sad at the thought that they were to be taken from their shelves where they had no doubt rested together for years and years to be sold independently over the counter in some secondhand bookshop.
The afternoon drew on. Ashley was feeling terribly hungry. She had only had a slice of toast and a cup of tea before leaving that morning, and apart from the cup of coffee they had bought at the top of Sutton Bank, nothing since. She should have made sure she had a good breakfast before leaving, but she had been too excited to eat much then.
As far as she could see, Jake hadn’t bought a thing so far, and she wondered whether they were staying until the end. It was already three o’clock, and the windows were misty now, evidence of the chill air outside. There was still all the furniture to start on, and her spirits sank when she considered how long that might take. Surely none of these people had had any lunch. Didn’t they need nourishment?
She uncrossed her legs and crossed them again, trying to stimulate her circulation. It wasn’t cold in the room, but it wasn’t warm either, and the continual sustainment of one position was apt to stiffen her limbs.
‘Are you ready to go?’
She had been unaware that Jake had left his acquaintances and come to stand by her chair. She looked up at him uncomprehendingly. ‘I thought you wanted to bid for the furniture,’ she whispered, in surprise.
‘Walter knows what I’m interested in,’ replied Jake, in low tones. ‘Don’t you, Walter?’
Walter Beswick got to his feet. ‘Of course. Are you leaving now?’
Jake nodded, flicking back his cuff and examining his watch. ‘It’s half past three. I don’t want to be too late back.’ He glanced meaningfully in Ashley’s direction.
Walter nodded understandingly, but Ashley got to her feet rather indignantly. ‘You don’t have to leave on my account,’ she declared.
Jake half smiled, his lean face disturbingly attractive. ‘Don’t I? That’s good to know.’
He patted Walter’s shoulder, and conveyed silent instructions, and Walter moved his head slowly up and down. ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow, Jake,’ he said. ‘About ten?’
‘Fine.’ Jake indicated that Ashley should precede him. ‘I’ll be seeing you.’
Walter smiled, his well-rounded face beaming. ‘You will. G’bye. G’bye, Ashley.’
‘Goodbye, Mr. Beswick.’ Ashley tried to appear coolly composed, but didn’t quite make it. She felt worse now than she had done at the start of their journey, and she was convinced that she was dragging Jake away from the sale at a time when he would have been most interested.
Outside, the cold air stung her cheeks, and she hurried across to the Ferrari, holding her coat collar closely about her throat. Jake unlocked the car doors and she quickly got inside, not even pausing to take off her coat as he did and throw it carelessly into the back. She sat hunched up in her seat, her knees together, her whole attitude emanating disapproval.
Jake closed his door and looked sideways at her. Then he sighed. ‘Now what’s wrong? You’re a very transparent creature, Ashley. You don’t make any attempt to hide your feelings, do you?’
Ashley tugged distractedly at the fingers of her suede gloves. ‘You know perfectly well what’s wrong,’ she exclaimed. ‘You’ve only left because of me. You said so.’
Jake shook his head. ‘I’ve left, as you put it, because I’ve had enough. I wanted to leave. Do you mind? I’d have thought you’d be dying of hunger by now. Did you think I was going to starve you?’
Ashley made an involuntary gesture. ‘But you haven’t bought anything!’
‘Haven’t I?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not dissatisfied with the way things have gone, so why should you be?’
‘Because if I wasn’t here, you would stay!’
‘Ashley, if you weren’t here, I shouldn’t have come,’ he stated disconcertingly, and left her to ponder on that as he started the car and drove smoothly out of the stone gateway.
The light was fading when Jake eventually pulled off the road into the car park of a large, well-lit building, which looked rather like a country house. He had driven fast down the motorway and she had begun to think that he was hoping to reach Bewford in time for an evening meal. The pangs of hunger had been stilled by the motion of the car, and she had her thoughts to occupy her.
The engine was switched off and Jake said: ‘Come on! I’m hungry. They do a damn good steak here.’
Ashley hesitated. ‘But ought we to stop?’ she questioned. ‘I thought you were in a hurry to get home.’
Jake sighed, somewhat impatiently. ‘You know, you’re the most argumentative female I know,’ he said, reaching for his coat. ‘Why should you imagine I was in a hurry to get home? Did I say so?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘But you drove fast down the motorway.’
‘I always drive fast on motorways—and besides, I’m hungry. Aren’t you?’
Ashley pressed her lips together, giving him a rather sheepish smile. ‘Ravenous!’
Jake shook his head, and thrust open