Matty - Part 9

Matty Part 9 – Storm Warning

David and Sarah Lord sailed into Porthmadog harbour on the high tide, bought a few provisions at a small general store and then dined at one of the harbour-front restaurants, before returning to Silver Cloud and retiring early; Sarah to the V-shaped fore-cabin and David to the main cabin.

In the morning, after an early breakfast, they sailed out with the tide and headed south, soon passing to the west of Harlech. The weather had turned cool and cloudy, with light a south-westerly wind that made it necessary to tack and fully reef the Genoa sail, and as David listened to the BBC coastal weather forecast, it confirmed that the weather was expected to deteriorate.

'So what do we do?' Sarah asked, handing her father a steaming cup of coffee.

David thought before answering, not wanting to change his plans, but mindful of the risks of being out at sea in a storm. 'We'll continue south for a while and then head west,' he answered. 'If we don't stray too far from the Llyn, we can easily return to Abersoch if we have to.'

As the Welsh coastline swung away to the south-east, David altered course a little and engaged the auto-pilot, before he and Sarah studied their charts, deciding how far south and west to sail before heading back north.

***

Dressed in a silk, turquoise, kimono-stile gown, Philippa sat on a cushioned, iron chair; one of four surrounding the iron table that stood on the patio outside the dinning room. With the middle finger of her right hand, she traced the rim of the half-empty coffee cup that stood beside her on the table, all the while gazing straight ahead over the garden, not really seeing or appreciating the spring flowers or hearing the birdsong coming from the nearby silver birch tree. Her mind was in turmoil.

It was an hour since Matthew had left her. When she had taken him to her bed the night before they had made love in desperate haste, wrestling with each other like two wild cats. Then, after lying in each other’s arms for a while, Philippa had led Matthew through to her bathroom and ordered him into the shower while she filled the Jacuzzi. She had joined him in the shower, keeping her hair dry under a shower cap, and taking great delight in soaping his body while he did the same for her. Then she had led him to the Jacuzzi where they lay, caressed by each other as well as by the hot bubbling water.

Later they had dried themselves on freshly laundered towels and then tumbled back into the king sized bed, where their lovemaking was slow and gentle and full of discovery.

When they awoke in the early morning Philippa had started to tell Matthew that he must go and that she could not see him again, but the madness overcame her once more and they made love again.

Finally Matthew had left, and she had stood at the front door of The Manor watching him sprint down the drive. He had turned and waved as he reached The Manor’s stone entrance pillars, and then disappeared from view as he ran along the lane.

The telephone in the dining room rang and Philippa’s mind came back to the present. She hurried inside and picked up the receiver.

‘Philippa Lord,’

‘Hello, Philippa. It’s John Tillman. I’m just ringing to say thank you for yesterday. And thank you for the cheque. That was most generous of you.’

‘Oh, it was my pleasure, John. I enjoyed my day out.’

‘You seem to have hit it off well with Dylan. He keeps asking where, err, Philippa is. Little monkey kept us up half the night. Matthew met some old school chum in the pub last night and “crashed” as he calls it at his house. He’s back now though. Well, I must be off. Church service in an hour. Perhaps I’ll see you there?’

‘Oh, err, probably not, but thanks for calling, John.’

‘Thank you, Philippa. And thanks again for the cheque. Goodbye.’

‘Goodbye.’

Philippa put down the receiver and was about to look at her wristwatch, but realised that she was not wearing it. She walked through into the kitchen and looked at the clock on the wall. It was nine-forty-five. Suddenly she thought of Sapphire and rushed upstairs to get changed. Remembering that Sapphire’s stall had not been cleaned out for several days, she put on an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt and headed for the barn.

Sapphire was pleased to see her as always, and Philippa made a fuss of her before letting her out of the rear stable door and into the paddock. Then she set to, mucking out her stall and sweeping the rest of the stable floor. She used a wheelbarrow to take out the old straw and droppings, adding the contents to the pile in the garden, and taking a bale of fresh straw and spreading it on the floor of Sapphire’s stall.

By noon the stable was clean and Philippa returned to the house to shower and change. She put on her riding clothes, made herself a sandwich in the kitchen and went out onto the patio to eat it. Then she locked the house and returned to the stable to saddle-up Sapphire. As Sapphire trotted out of the yard and onto the driveway the telephone in the house rang, but Philippa didn’t hear it.

***

It was almost six o’clock by the time Philippa returned, riding Sapphire along the tree-lined lane towards The Manor’s entrance pillars. They had ridden for almost five hours, keeping well clear of the village, following the bridle-paths over the hills and taking country lanes through quiet hamlets. They twice crossed the River Wharton, once over a bridge and once at a ford, where Philippa allowed Sapphire to drink briefly from the clear cold water.

Philippa had used the time to think, her mind churning with possibilities. But always she returned to the only sensible conclusion. To have an affair was exiting but dangerous. Her marriage, and her whole lifestyle, was at stake. She must not try to contact Matthew, and if he tried to contact her she must warn him to stay away.

As Sapphire reached the stone entrance pillars Philippa saw movement ahead. Matthew’s car was parked a little further along the lane and he was opening the door and climbing out. Philippa’s heart leapt, and without a thought she nudged Sapphire’s flanks with her heels and forced her into a trot. As they reached Matthew, Philippa reigned in and slid from the saddle. And as Matthew stepped closer, Philippa flung herself into his arms.

***

When Matthew woke on the Spring Bank Holiday Monday morning he found Philippa standing beside the bed, dressed in her turquoise gown, and smiling down at him.

The previous evening he had helped Philippa to bed Sapphire down for the night and then followed her into the house. Then the night had gone on similar lines to the one before; except that this time Philippa had hastily prepared a meal of pasta and salad and crusty bread, which they ate on the patio, despite a brooding sky and rumbles of thunder, before retiring to Philippa’s Jacuzzi with a second bottle of chilled and sparkling white wine.

She had asked Matthew which old school chum he was staying with this time, and then laughed when he told her that the old school chum had invited him to a party in Ilkley, which would mean him staying out for another night rather than driving under the influence.

‘Breakfast, Sir?’ said Philippa.

‘Please,’ replied Matthew, as his right arm slid from under the quilt.

‘And what would Sir like?’

‘You,’ said Matthew, as he grabbed Philippa around the waist, pulling her down on top of him and rolling her over until he was on top of her, stifling her giggles with a kiss.

She returned the kiss uttering little moans of pleasure, and then pushed him just far enough away to look into his eyes. ‘We have today, and one more night,’ she said, ‘then you must go, before my husband comes back.’

‘I’ll have to get Dylan,’ said Matthew. ‘He’ll be driving my auntie and uncle crazy by now. He’s usually awake by five in the morning.’

‘Bring him here,’ said Philippa. ‘There are woods and a lake on the estate, just beyond the bottom of the garden. We can take him for a walk around the lake. It’s beautiful this time of year with the rhododendrons out. And I’ll make a picnic and we can spend the afternoon down there. You can both stay the night, but tomorrow you must go.’

‘Okay’ said Matthew, kissing Philippa’s forehead. ‘I’ll tell my auntie and uncle that we’re leaving today. Then we’ll go home tomorrow morning. But then we must…’

‘No!’ said Philippa. ‘Don’t think beyond today and tonight… please.’

***

Silver Cloud had weathered the overnight storm, but clouds still hung low and threatening and the sea was still quite rough. The wind was abeam, causing Silver Cloud to heel to starboard but moving her swiftly though the waves. Sarah was sheltering under the spray hood on the port side, while David was holding Silver Cloud on course. He shouted a command to Sarah and she roller-reefed the Genoa sail from the safety of the cockpit, increasing it slightly from storm sail. This test of David’s sailing abilities would normally have excited him, but after the early morning radio message he had received from the boatyard, he had lost his enthusiasm and was ready for home.

As Silver Cloud approached Abersoch, David began to wish he had not decided to return early, but he held his course for the beach, having already radioed ahead for a tractor and Silver Cloud’s trailer.

It began to rain again as they were towed up the beach to the safety of the boatyard. They stowed away the gear that was kept aboard the yacht and collected their remaining belongings for the journey home.

‘Well, did you enjoy that, Sarah?’ David asked, as they walked across the boatyard in the rain.

‘Yeah, I wish were staying another day as planned. I don’t mind the rain.

‘Perhaps I was a bit hasty, deciding to return early. It is only a car after all. But… I’m afraid I lost my temper as usual,’ said David.

It was then that David noticed Colin Haines, the boatyard manager, walking towards them.

‘Good morning Mr. Lord,’ said Haines: a bearded man with a large beer belly and a very Welsh accent. ‘Typical Bank Holiday Monday weather, isn’t it.’

‘It is,’ said David. ‘Now what’s this about vandals?’

‘Well,’ began Haines, turning and walking with them towards his office. ‘Someone broke into the car compound last night and damaged some of the cars. Including yours, as I said over the radio. It’s mostly just superficial damage though, just a few scratches, and yours is not as bad as some of the others. But I;m afraid one of your tyres is slashed.’

***

Matthew parked his car in the lane, in the same place as he had parked the day before. He turned in his seat to release Dylan’s child-seat harness, grabbed his denim jacket from the seat beside him, then opened his door and climbed out. As he opened one of the rear passenger doors Dylan leapt out into his arms, wrapping his own arms around his father’s neck.

‘Is this where Flipper lives, Daddy?’ he asked.

‘Just around the corner,’ said Matthew as he locked the car and set off down the lane towards the entrance to The Manor.

‘I can walk now,’ said Dylan, struggling to get down.

Matthew set him down at the start of the gravel drive and they walked, hand in hand, towards the house.

‘Look!’ cried Dylan, pointing to the right behind the double garage and the gable end of the barn. ‘Horsey!’ Sapphire was standing in the middle of the paddock, and she watched as Matthew and Dylan walked over to the fence beside the garage. Matthew hollowed his left cheek and made a clicking sound, holding his hand out over the fence, encouraging Sapphire to come to them.

‘He’s coming, Daddy!’ exclaimed Dylan.

‘He’s a she,’ said Matthew, her name’s Sapphire.

‘Can have a ride?’ Dylan asked, climbing the fence.

‘She’s a bit big for you,’ said Matthew, grabbing Dylan around the waist and turning as he heard footsteps coming up behind him.

‘Hello,’ said Philippa, smiling. ‘I see you’ve been introducing Dylan to Sapphire.’ Philippa was dressed for a picnic, in T-shirt and shorts. Matthew wanted to take her in his arms but felt awkward with Dylan there.

‘Flipper!’ exclaimed Dylan, turning and trying to leap from Matthew to Philippa. Philippa held out her arms and took him from Matthew, stealing a kiss from Matthew as she did so.

‘Can I have ride on horsey?’ Dylan asked again.

‘I think you need to grow a bit first,’ replied Philippa, setting Dylan down on the ground and taking his hand. ‘Anyway, we’re going on a picnic. And look, the sun’s beginning to shine!’

‘What’s a picnic?’ Dylan asked, as the three of them walked towards the house.

***

David Lord dropped Sarah off at his former wife’s house in Altringham; and after unloading his daughter's suitcase from the boot of the car, he gave her a fatherly hug.

‘I’m sorry about your car, Dad,’ she said, surveying the damage once more. The vandals had used a sharp instrument of some sort to scratch a series of long wavy lines down both sides of David’s Jaguar. The front near-side tyre had also been slashed, though thankfully, the rest were undamaged. David had been furious with Haines, the boatyard manager, for not having better security, and had argued that he should pay for the repairs. But Haines had pointed to the sign on the fence that informed car owners that all cars were parked at the owner’s risk.

David had quickly settled his account, replaced the damaged tyre with the spare, and set off for Altringham. But by the time he and Sarah had reached the Welsh border he had calmed down, and they had stopped at a public house for a drink and a meal.

‘Are you sure you won’t come in, Dad?’ Sarah asked, as the rain began to lash them again.

‘No, I better be going,’ David answered, climbing back into the driver’s seat. ‘The roads will probably be murder. Give my regards to your mother. And come and see us soon. Bye.’

‘Bye, Dad,’ said Sarah, as her father drove away. She waved, then picked up her suitcase and hurried quickly into the house, out of the rain.

TO BE CONTINUED