The Inward Storm. PENNY JORDAN
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the room with her she could hear Jake saying softly, ‘My little Cat, when I touch you like this you’re as boneless and sensual as any feline of the species.’
Her throat dry, Kate started to shiver, passing her tongue over dry lips suddenly tormented by memories she had suppressed ever since they parted. Her skin seemed to burn as she remembered the way Jake had touched her; there had been nothing adolescent about her reaction to him, nor the way his body had taught her to respond to his lovemaking. But that was only a memory now. She had not allowed any man to get close enough to her to make love to her since and she had no intention of doing so. The male instinct to possess and repress was as strong today as it had always been; man wanted woman in his bed subservient to his desires, and she could never forget that Jake had dismissed her views and thoughts as carelessly as though they were those of a two-year-old. He had frightened her the first time she had seen him, that aura of power and masculinity he possessed overwhelming her, but in the sexual haze of wanting him she had forgotten to be afraid, and that had been her downfall.
What on earth was she doing allowing her thoughts to meander down such dead ends, Kate thought tiredly, thrusting her work aside and running slim fingers through the chestnut mass of curls that reached down to her shoulders. Lyla had wanted her to have her hair cut that summer she met Jake, and that had been the first time she had realised that he wanted her, the day he had looked at her and said sharply, ‘No, leave her hair as it is, Lyla,’ to her stepmother, adding under his breath, ‘One day some man’s going to thank you for it when he sees it fanned out across his pillow …’ and she had known that Jake wasn’t thinking in terms of ‘some man’ but himself. How that knowledge had excited her! She bit her lip, trying not to remember, irritated to discover that it was only nine o’clock. Far too early to go to bed. The ringing of the telephone was a welcome relief.
‘Kate?’ She recognised Kevin Hargreaves’ voice instantly and responded to it warmly. ‘I thought you might like to know that they’ve appointed a new Head of Operations at the station. I found out about it today.’ Kevin was one of the doctors on stand-by for the plant, and he went on to explain that although he had no other details about the new appointee he was hoping to persuade him to adopt several new safety measures.
‘Oh, safety measures!’ Kate exploded. ‘They’re all very well in their way, but what we should be campaigning for is to get the plant closed down completely.’
Kevin’s chuckle reached her from the other end of the wire. ‘That’s impossible, I’m afraid, Kate. Nuclear power is here to stay, and that’s a fact of life. If we can just get them to adopt a more aware attitude to the possibilities I’d be well pleased. As soon as I find out who the new Director is I’m going to invite him round for dinner. I was hoping you might cook it for me and play hostess,’ he added, coaxingly. ‘Mrs Mac is all very well in her way, but she isn’t a patch on you. It will give you an opportunity to put forward your views as well,’ he added. When Kate agreed he thanked her and rang off, explaining that it was his evening on call and that he couldn’t stay too long on the phone in case any emergency calls came through. At least Kevin wasn’t like Jake, Kate thought when she had replaced the receiver. He accepted that she had her own views and listened to them, but pleasant though he was Kevin did nothing for her sexually; he was a pleasant, attractive man in his mid-thirties, and she liked him as a friend, but there was none of the electricity Jake had generated. Jake had been thirty when she first met him and even then there had been a forcefulness about him, a raw maleness that alarmed even when it aroused, and she had been young and silly enough to be excited by the fear his potential to dominate and master had aroused inside her. It was only later that she had learned to despise that need to dominate and to despise herself for ever wanting it.
It was quite late when Meg returned. Kate was already in bed, but she heard her come in, and she was shocked to discover that she was wondering if Meg, like her, ever missed the warm male presence in her bed at night.
‘SO WHEN’S the wedding to be?’ They were in the shop sorting out the jumpers Kate had collected the previous day, the solitaire diamond on Meg’s left hand winking brightly as her fingers moved deftly through the pile.
‘Oh, not until next summer. In the lull between lambing and shearing,’ Meg twinkled, flushing a little as she added half shyly, ‘I still can’t believe I’ve been so lucky. David and I married young and I was so happy with him. I thought I’d never get over his death, and I certainly never dreamed I’d find the kind of happiness with anyone else that I’ve found with Matt.’
‘I’ll have to start looking for someone to work in the shop after Christmas,’ Kate told her. ‘Any ideas?’
‘What about Lucy?’
Lucy was Matt’s daughter, a pleasant plump girl of seventeen. ‘She wants to find a job, and Matt and I both think she’s far too young to leave the valley yet. She was thinking of going for secretarial work and finding herself a job at the plant, but she’s a marvellous knitter, and rather on the quiet side.’ Meg glanced thoughtfully at Kate. ‘You know, Kate, the girls at the youth club would enjoy a few lessons from you on the design aspects of knitting. You stay in far too much, and this bee you’ve got in your bonnet about the station. Most of the people round here welcome it. There’s the jobs, for one thing …’
‘They welcome it because they have no other choice,’ Kate said fiercely, ‘Do you think they would honestly welcome it if they knew that it could maim and kill their children; that the mere existence of places like Greenham means that Russian missiles are constantly directed towards this country …’
‘Ebbdale doesn’t have a missile base,’ Meg told her quietly, ‘It has a nuclear power station, and missiles give protection as well as making us a target.’
‘With multilateral disarmament missiles wouldn’t be needed,’ Kate argued, but Meg merely sighed.
‘Oh, my dear,’ she said softly, ‘human beings aren’t like that. Can’t you see? You only have to look at children, any group of children, to see the tendencies that are inside all of us to dominate and manoeuvre. Wonderful though it would be if human beings could live in peace with one another, first we all have to be capable of giving and receiving absolute trust, of making ourselves acutely vulnerable, a fundamental something which the majority of the human race is incapable of doing, the flaw that makes us human.’
Even though part of Kate knew that Meg was right, stubbornly she refused to admit it. These arguments were old and much used ones, but that did not make them right. How vividly she remembered how she had felt when Jake talked about them having a child. A child who would be forced to live and grow under the threat of the nuclear holocaust his own father had helped to build against him. And if that threat was not averted, and there was war, how many generations into the future would be maimed and diseased because of it? It didn’t bear thinking about.
A phone call from one of their knitters on one of the more remote hill farms had Kate setting out in her small car immediately after lunch to collect the jumpers she had ready. It took her about an hour to reach the farm, and she was warmly greeted by Beth Carr as she got out of the car and walked across the cobbled yard.
A heavenly scent of baking bread greeted her when she followed Beth into the kitchen. Cookery was another skill Kate had developed since coming to the Dales. When she lived with Jake they had often eaten out, or she had bought convenience foods. ‘Umm, one of the best smells on earth,’ Kate commented as Beth indicated one of the chairs beside the fire.
‘I finished the last jumper last night,’ Beth told her, ‘and I’m afraid I won’t be able to do any more for a while.’
‘Oh, Beth!’ Kate was surprised when Beth turned towards her, her plump face wreathed in smiles.
‘It’s happened at last,’ she told her proudly. ‘I’m having a baby. After all these years, Pete and I had stopped hoping, but Dr Hargreaves has confirmed it, and from now on all my knitting will be white and small.’
‘Beth, I’m so pleased for you.’ Kate knew how unhappy Beth had been at her inability to conceive, and was genuinely pleased for her, even though it meant losing one