Larkrigg Fell by Freda Lightfoot Page A

between crunching buttercups. The sun sparkled on the tarn, a blue sky streaked with feather duster clouds, a flock of pied wagtails flitting from rock to rock with lively exuberance.
    Sarah sat with Jonty on a blanket, feeding him slices of apple. It made Beth shudder to see how his eyes appraised her sister with candid greed, then open his mouth for more fruit, his tongue flicking out to caress her fingertips as he took each morsel from her. Yet she couldn’t tear her eyes from noting every sensual gesture.
    Beth was all too aware that she wasn’t the only one fascinated by this erotic ritual. Pietro, his head close to Tessa’s, giggling like children as they watched an army of ants collect crumbs and stagger back with their prize to a nest beneath a large stone, would turn his head from time to time, and gaze longingly in the direction of the absorbed pair. That look somehow pierced Beth to the heart, making her feel more insignificant than ever. And to her utter shame, the jealousy burned all the fiercer.
    She felt quite unable to speak to anyone, enduring the picnic with what good grace she could muster, while her mind busily churned over the problem.
    How could Sarah cheapen herself in such a way?
    They knew nothing about these squatters, nothing at all. Why had they come? How long did they intend to stay? And what would make them leave? No solution presented itself and Beth fell into a deep and uncharacteristic sulk.
    What a terrible person I’m becoming, she thought, and sighing, she kicked at a stone, watching glumly as it rolled down the bank to splash into the sparkling waters of the tarn.
    Worse, how could she start work on the house, let alone move in, with squatters living on site? She did not relish the idea one bit.
    ‘Let’s swim,’ Sarah shouted, and in seconds had stripped off her jeans to reveal a blue bikini which left little to the imagination. She plunged in, squealing when the cold water hit her bare stomach. ‘Come on, you softies,’ she yelled, gasping for breath and laughing at the same time. ‘If I can do it, you can.’
    ‘We haven’t got a dinky little swimsuit,’ Jonty told her, mouth twisting into a wry smile.
    Sarah gurgled with delight. ‘What the hell? We’ve already seen most of what you’ve got.’ And laughed all the more at their startled expressions.
    The confession was quickly made and Beth was forced to close her eyes as Jonty suddenly stood up, pulled off his T-shirt and dropped his trousers. She could feel her cheeks burning and didn’t dare look until she heard the splash of water. Then her gaze slid to Pietro. Would he do the same? She felt a sad sense of despair at the way his beautiful eyes seemed to darken as he watched her sister and Jonty splash each other.
    A moment later he stripped down to a pair of white shorts and ran in to join them. Something inside of Beth lurched with pain.
    Tessa picked up James and followed at a more leisurely pace, calling laughingly back to her. ‘Are you coming?’
    Beth shook her head.
    ‘It’s hot. Do you good.’
    ‘I’m fine.’
    Tessa smiled. ‘Suit yourself.’ She touched the baby’s nose gently with her own. ‘Come on, cherub. We’ll have a wee plodge in the shallows, shall we?’
    Beth struggled to keep her interest on the baby who gurgled with delight as the water lapped over his chubby toes. But her eyes kept slipping away, fastening with deep and shaming misery upon the two young men as they splashed and chased Sarah, making her squeal and scream, revelling as she always did in an excess of male attention.
     
    Lying on her back in the sun, desperately struggling to close her ears to the merriment and her mind to the implications, Beth started when she found Pietro had come out of the water to join her. He shook himself like a dog, flicked back the long black locks, and flung himself down beside her.
    ‘You no like to swim?’
    ‘Not today, thanks. But don’t let me stop you. I’m quite happy here.’ Her