Holding On by Marcia Willett Read Free Book Online

all the children were gone – or nearly so. Susanna, the last to leave, would be off to Bristol in the autumn, although she would be back for the holidays, but once Mole had passed out from Dartmouth and Susanna had finished her course, The Keep would be left simply as a shelter for the elderly people within its walls.
    Freddy dropped her secateurs into her basket and looked about her. It was a faintly depressing thought – and a foolish one. After all, Caroline was not elderly and the children were always returning for weekends and short holidays or simply passing through. This would not cease because none of them actually lived at The Keep. Nevertheless, it did seem that the family was reaching the end of an era.
    The robin hopped on to a nearby twig and sang a stave or two, his bright eye encouraging her. She smiled and nodded as if in answer – she simply must not allow herself to become depressed – and, in an attempt to distract herself, continued to pursue her earlier interesting idea regarding the question of atmospheres. Having dwelled on Hal, she moved on to his twin, Kit. Well, darling Kit was simply an eccentric in the making, no question about that. She reminded Freddy of an elderly aunt whom, as a child, she had adored; quite potty but so delightfully unexpected. Just such a one was Kit. She was young yet but all the signs were there: her tendency to curl up in the huge dog basket with the dogs, her penchant for unusual people – Sin and the delightful Jacques, whom she called Jake the Rake – and her loyalty to her old Morris, called Eppyjay because of its number plate, EPJ 43. She was unpunctual, lazy and vague, but there was, thought Freddy, a warmth in your heart when Kit slid an arm around your neck and whispered, ‘Hello, honey’ in your ear. None of the other children had ever called her ‘honey’ . . .
    Fliss, of course, was terribly special, not least because she reminded Freddy of herself when young. She masked her insecurity with the same lift of the chin and the squaring of the shoulders; she cared deeply about the family, and beneath her fragile appearance was a sinewy, springy strength. Having Fliss around seemed utterly natural to Freddy, as though she had a younger, stronger version of herself about the place. If only it had been possible to allow Fliss and Hal to marry. They would have made the perfect pair, the ideal owners of The Keep. His liveliness would have leavened her seriousness and her good sense would have kept a restraining hand upon his recklessness.
    The robin flipped up and over the wall and Freddy sat down on the wooden seat, gazing out across the courtyard with a sigh. Well, it was over and done with and no use brooding about it. Hal had Maria; such a pretty child but taking a while to mature. There was a lack of confidence which Freddy was at a loss to understand, in fact there had been moments during this last visit when she had felt almost irritated by Maria. At times she had looked quite sulky and when Fliss had told them that she was expecting a child Maria had behaved in the oddest manner.
    Freddy thought: I think she was jealous. But what nonsense! Surely she and Hal are quite capable of having babies. It must have been something else.
    She lifted her face to the sunshine and closed her eyes. Where had she got to? Ah, yes, Mole. Now Mole was different again. A true Chadwick, so like Theo, dark-haired, brown-eyed, he was quiet, undemanding, companionable, astute, yet – unlike Theo – there was just the suggestion of strain in having him about. It was all those years of worry, of course. First he had been unable to speak and then, once he regained his voice, there were the nightmares and sleepwalking, the terror of being left, his anxiety that the members of his family might disappear in the same way as his parents and his brother. Poor Mole. For the thousandth time she wondered exactly what dreadful details Mole had heard on