Learning to Dance Read Online Free Page A

and then up into the Quantocks and beautiful Exmoor to Castle Dove.’ He folded the paper, looked round with a beaming smile and rallied them all. ‘So here we go. Is everybody ready?’
    Both couples responded enthusiastically. Nathaniel Jones lifted a newspaper on high and waved it like a flag. Judith and her apparently shy companion smiled slightly, though Judith was already wondering whether she had done the right thing in coming.
    Martin Morris slid into the driving seat and switched on. They eased out of the park-and-ride and joined the traffic going to Weston-Super-Mare. Judith glanced sideways and saw with enormous relief that Sybil Jessup had her head back and her eyes closed. She did the same.
    Castle Dove was situated on a headland between Porlock Weir and the sweep of sandy beaches which included Croyde and Woolacombe. At one point its grounds actually straddled the Somerset–Devon border. It was Victorian Gothic, with turrets sprouting everywhere like giant pimples, and a conservatory almost overhanging the drop down to Dove Cove – where the River Dove emptied itself into the beginning of the Atlantic. Lundy Island was visible when the mist lifted, Martin Morris assured them. He pointed out a table with booklets about Lundy and its history and underwater gardens. The Lorna Doone trail map was of interest to the Olsens, they were walkers. Jennifer might go with them on their shorter hikes; Stanley would not. Nathaniel – ‘I really would prefer the fullname, Nat sounds a bit trendy for me!’ – was keen to meet Robert Hausmann. The housekeeper said he would be in the Long Gallery from midday, but he liked to go out looking for local colour most evenings.
    Martin Morris guffawed. ‘You can find Robert Hausmann at the Dove Inn if you fancy a walk after dinner.’
    ‘Ideal. Would you ladies care to accompany me? A quiet stroll, perhaps a sherry or a soft drink?’
    Sybil Jessup managed a smile. ‘I would like an early night.’
    Judith followed up quickly. ‘Me, too.’ She worked out as they were shown to their rooms that Sybil had said six words and she had said two. Brilliant. It was a shame their rooms were on different floors, they could learn from each other. In fact all seven of them were scattered about the castle, apparently at random. But there were phones of course, and a proper room service, and everything had that touch of old-fashioned luxury mentioned three times in the itinerary. Dinner was good too: watercress soup and little roast potatoes with sea bass and kidney beans. She would have loved some of the towering trifle but knew it wouldn’t be wise.
    She spent ages having a shower and investigating her room. The mini fridge was full of delightful bottles, fruit juices and her favourite tomato juice. The carpet was thick, the tea-making facilities included hot chocolate and coffee, and there were two kinds of biscuits and a mini box of chocolates. She wafted around in her best nightdress with her summer dressing gown slung over her shoulders in case anyone called. Well, you never knew, Nathaniel might decide against the Dove Inn. She sat with a drink and watched the television, switched it off, got into bed and read her book for a while, then, switched off the light and was almost immediately asleep.
    She woke very suddenly knowing she needed the bathroom, completely forgetting she was no longer at home. She stumbled to the door, turned left and opened the next door, pulled on a light and immediately realized she was not at home. It was a bathroom but not hers. Better than hers. She grinned at herself and hastily used the facilities. The toilet seat was warm; the hot tap in the basin produced hot water; the pristine hand towel was thick and gorgeous. She returned, still grinning, and only then realized that her door had closed and locked behind her. She couldn’t get in; her dressing gown was at the bottom of her bed and the room key was on the dressing table.
    She leaned her head on