Page 46 of Searching for Mr Tilney

‘Oh, yes, it’s such a vast subject, and there are so many questions. I’ve always been intrigued by religious paintings … we’ve studied some of them in history of art.’

‘Do you know the painting of Madonna with Saint Giovannino?’

‘Yes … the one with a flying saucer? I know the painting is an artist’s vision, but I can’t help thinking people in all ages have witnessed such things, or that perhaps the whole idea of God came from outer space.’

‘I’m also fascinated by that idea … the descriptions in the bible of angels and chariots sound so other worldly that it’s easy to think of them in terms of spacemen from other planets. I quite like the idea of astronauts coming down from the skies to spread the word about a higher deity. But, in the end, I think I’m coming to the idea of a divine spirit, as a force for good within us all.’

‘I think I know just what you mean … that it’s innate, part of our DNA, and it’s up to us to choose whether we use it or not.’

‘That’s it, exactly … it’s the theory that God or goodness, whatever you want to call it, is in every living cell on the planet, part of the entire universe around us.’

‘So, it’s up to each individual to make sure his or her life impacts on everyone else’s in a positive way.’

‘If we all helped and loved one another, there’d be no wars, no want, and no inhumanity.’

‘I absolutely agree … and as Jane Austen herself said, “We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.”’

‘Oh, if Elsa could hear me she’d be really cross. She’s always saying I go on too much. I am sorry; I feel as if I’m preaching at you, and that’s the last thing I want to do.’

‘No, what you say makes so much sense to me, though I can’t say it as eloquently as you do.’

‘On the contrary, you say it beautifully, and like Jane Austen, you are a very wise woman, ahead of her time.’

Harry looked into my eyes and smiled. We were in Lyncombe Vale, following the raised footpath by the side of the brook, which Harry said Jane had mentioned in her letter. I liked to think of Jane walking there, even if the views were changed. The trees bent their branches over our heads, as we passed a neat row of Victorian houses on one side with the fields on the other as green and lovely as I imagined they’d been in any other time.

I learned later we’d walked in a very round about way because there was still quite a climb to Prior Park, but I didn’t care. If it had taken all day to get there I loved talking to Harry, hearing his voice and listening to his thoughtful answers. As we rounded the bend in the road a set of large gates to Prior Park could be seen at last, and Harry held out his hand.

***

Mr Gallagher, Harry’s old school teacher had left instructions with the caretaker to let us in. We followed the path that took us round to the back of the college, the view opening up before us, so our eyes moved down to the magnificent Palladian bridge, its reflection clear in the lake to the views beyond of the crescents of Bath, and the Abbey in the distance. It was impossible not to think of Catherine Morland as the green grass sloped down the hill, and I was tempted to lie down and roll all the way to the bottom. Harry said he remembered a walk, which would take us through shaded paths down to the bridge. It was lovely to feel his fingers holding mine, and every time he saw something to excite him he squeezed my hand.

The heat of the day was at its fiercest, and the serpentine path between stately pine trees felt cool. Soon the wild garlic would be blooming with its heady fragrance, Harry said, and the woods would be filled with birdsong now the eggs were hatching. Drifts of bluebells bloomed in a haze of amethyst, green shoots nudged through grey twigs on tree branches, and everywhere seemed as if it were burgeoning with life.

‘The trees are coming into leaf … doesn’t it feel as if we’re waiting for spring to finally announce that she’s here?’ I said.

We could have been the only people in the world, enveloped by the green tunnel of leaves whispering over our heads. Harry stopped on the path, and turned his head towards mine.

‘And like the anticipated leaves, there are many words left waiting to be spoken. Caroline, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?’

‘Whatever for?’ I asked.

He took a step closer and pulled me to him.

‘I’m so sorry I didn’t write … I wanted to very much, but I wasn’t certain if it was the right thing to do. I thought I should set you free to find your life back in London, and I realised far too late that I really wished I’d behaved differently.’

‘Oh, Harry, none of that matters now … there’s nothing to forgive, truly.’

‘I’m so happy you came back to Bath, even if it’s only for a short while.’

‘And I can’t tell you how thrilled I was when I heard you’d written to Piers. Thank you for saying what was in your heart.’

‘May I say what’s in my heart now?’

Harry tilted my head towards him, and ran a finger over my lips. I couldn’t speak as those blue eyes pierced mine to the depths of my being.

‘I want to kiss you,’ he said.

The rest of the day was so perfect that if I close my eyes I can see it as a series of snapshots - Harry stealing kisses in the cool of the pine trees, standing on the breathtaking Palladian bridge watching the swans on the lake below, wandering back along wooded paths holding hands, and wishing time would stand still. And since that glorious day, time has rushed by as if it’s speeding up like a runaway train slicing through the countryside going as fast as it can in the opposite direction. Every day has been filled with wonderful moments - seeing Elsa and spending time with her, and being with Harry as much as humanly possible. Ellen has been lovely, insisting that I go out every day and even in the evenings, while she and Roger have been making their own entertainment. Harry has taken me to the cinema, the theatre, and to all the museums. We’ve strolled past Jane’s house in Sydney Place, and wandered in the gardens opposite. There have been walks up to Beechen Cliff following in Catherine Morland’s footsteps with Henry Tilney, and up to Camden Place like Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth in Persuasion.