I had my breakfast upstairs the next morning, despite its being Sunday, since Mrs Johnson was with us. When she brought my tray, she passed on the message that Matthew would be in the library at ten o’clock.
Business as usual, I thought grimly. In the clear light of day, my morbid imaginings of the night before seemed ludicrous and I dismissed them from my mind.
The fire was already burning in the hall, although the day was milder and the sun breaking through the massed clouds. It made the passage oppressively warm. I found that Matthew, no doubt of the same mind, had flung open the French windows in the library and was standing gazing out over the lawn.
He acknowledged my arrival merely with a gesture of his hand. After sitting in silence for a while, I said tentatively, ‘Shall I read back what we did yesterday?’
‘Um?’
‘Would you – ?’
‘Oh – yes.’ He turned from the window, and I noticed dark rims under his eyes. It seemed he’d slept no better than I had. ‘Yes, please.’
Usually a few minutes of this was enough to restart his train of thought, but today he didn’t stop me, letting me read the entire passage.
When I stopped there was another silence.
He moved back to his desk, sat down and rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I don’t seem to be thinking very clearly this morning. I’m sorry, I’m wasting your time.’
‘It’s all right,’ I murmured awkwardly.
‘Are you seeing Mike today?’
I looked up in surprise. ‘I think we all are, aren’t we? Kate – I mean Mrs Haig –’
‘Oh yes, of course. He didn’t – ?’ he broke off.
‘Didn’t what?’
‘Nothing. Oh hell, look I really am sorry. My brain just isn’t functioning today.’
‘Shall I make you some coffee? That might clear your head.’
‘Would you? I’d be very grateful.’
I put my blank notebook on the chair and opened the library door. And there was Kate, comfortably ensconced in one of the leather armchairs with the Sunday papers. She was wearing royal blue trousers and a cherry-red top. She looked, I thought acidly, as though she were on the deck of a luxury liner.
‘That was a brief session,’ she remarked.
‘We haven’t started yet. I’m going to make some coffee.’
‘Be an angel and bring me a cup, too.’
I nodded and walked stiffly down the passage, aware of her eyes following me. In the kitchen, Mrs Johnson turned in surprise from peeling potatoes.
‘We’d like our coffee a little early this morning,’ I told her. ‘It’s all right, you carry on – I’ll do it.’
‘Very well, miss. Thank you. Is Madam down yet?’
I bit my lip. ‘Yes, I’m making a cup for her, too.’
‘The fire’s going all right, is it?’
‘It’s fine.’
The percolator seemed to take for ever. I stood watching it, holding my mind carefully blank. When at last it was ready, I poured the coffee into three cups and added milk, watching the liquid change into the colour of Kate’s blouse the night before.
‘Would you like some, Mrs Johnson? There’s plenty.’
‘No thank you, my dear. Can’t say as I fancy it. I’ll make myself a nice pot of tea when I’ve finished they potatoes.’
She put the cups on a cloth-covered tray, and opened the door for me. I carried it carefully down the passage.
Kate uncurled herself like a cat and reached for her cup. ‘If you’re not working, have yours here with me.’
I hesitated. ‘I think we’ll be starting as soon as we’ve had this.’
She smiled, and the tiny electric current pricked again at my spine. ‘Ask him.’
I opened the library door. Matthew was sitting as I’d left him, his head resting in his hands.
‘Mrs Haig is out here – will you join her for coffee?’
He looked up. ‘Very well.’ He came out of the room with my desk chair in his hand. ‘No, it’s all right, Miss Barton, you sit there – I’ll have this one.’
‘“Miss Barton”!’ Kate mimicked, as I seated myself in the second armchair. ‘God, you’re so stuffy, Matthew! Call the child Emily, and be done with it!’
Matthew’s face whitened.
I said quickly, ‘This is in working hours, Kate.’
‘And he’s always pompous when you’re working? How do you put up with it?’
As I struggled to find a reply, Matthew commented, ‘Since I so obviously annoy you, I’m surprised you asked me to join you.’
She turned on him a smile of false sweetness. ‘Actually, I didn’t. I invited Emily, and she asked you.’
‘I see. Then I beg your pardon.’
‘Oh, stop it, both of you!’ I broke in before I could prevent myself. Matthew’s head jerked in my direction, and Kate raised her delicate eyebrows.
‘I’m – sorry,’ I muttered.
‘Not at all – Emily – it’s we who should apologize.’ Matthew drained his cup and replaced it on the tray. ‘Thanks for the coffee, but I’m afraid it hasn’t worked. I’m still not in the mood for work, so I’ll go straight down to the golf club. The rest of the day is your own.’
‘Will you be back for lunch?’ Kate asked.
‘Probably not, I’ll eat there.’ He stood up, carried the chair back into the library, and came out again, closing the door behind him. He looked down at us and I thought for a moment he was going to say something. Then he apparently changed his mind and disappeared down the passage.
Kate laughed.
I said involuntarily, ‘Why do you try to hurt him all the time?’
‘Oh I don’t,’ she said softly, ‘Not all the time.’
I stood up. ‘I’m afraid it’s rather warm for me here. I think I’ll take Sarah for a walk – she’ll be at Sunday school this afternoon.’ I’d forgotten I was speaking to the child’s mother till I saw her amused smile. I wondered whether to apologize, ask permission or include her in the invitation, but before I could make up my mind she reached down for the newspaper and I made my escape.
It was a blue and gold day, with autumn in the air. Sarah, delighted at the unexpected outing, skipped and danced at my side.
‘Let’s go to the farm and see Uncle Mike!’ she suggested.
‘He’ll probably be busy, though he did say there was a new calf.’
We had already turned up the track. The high spiky hedges were jewelled with berries and the gorse at our feet was yellowing. A heavy dew still lay on the thick grass where the sun had not reached. Above us the sky was clear and an aeroplane, droning like a sleepy bee, left a cobweb of white across the blue.
Sarah said suddenly, ‘I told you Mummy was beautiful, didn’t I?’
In the eye of the beholder, no doubt, I thought, smiling down at her. ‘You did.’ I confirmed. But was she? She was finely drawn, a thoroughbred, with her long neck, her lean body and slender feet. She was vibrant and tantalising; she was elegant and carelessly sophisticated, but her nose was too thin and her eyes too deep-set for beauty, and her warm, passionate mouth belonged in a softer face. As hard as nails, I thought, and was surprised by my vehemence.
But Sarah was satisfied and ran on ahead of me, startling some sheep which bucked clumsily out of the way like frightened hearth rugs. Now that we were climbing, the sea became visible again, still and blue in the bay.
‘I wish I didn’t have Sunday school,’ Sarah said rebelliously. ‘Mummy said she’s going to the beach this afternoon.’
‘Perhaps she’ll still be there when you get back.’
Sarah pouted. And I’ll be at school all day tomorrow. I don’t seem to have seen her at all!’
‘You were with her yesterday,’ I reminded her.
Sarah nodded.
‘Do you know what? She asked if I’d like to live in London!’
I stopped, frowning. ‘And would you?’
She clasped her hands. ‘Oh, yes! Seeing the Queen, and Big Ben, and everything!’
I laughed. ‘You wouldn’t see much of the Queen, poppet!’
‘But she lives in London, doesn’t she?’
It was impossible to explain the vastness of the city to this country child, whose world was bounded by the comfortable friendliness of Chapelcombe. ‘London’s a big place,’ I said lamely.
Sarah’s dragonfly mind darted on to something else, but I wondered for a while what had prompted Kate to ask the question.
Chapel Farm lay gleaming in the sunshine. As we approached, a man in corduroy trousers came out of the stables and stopped on seeing us. Then he smiled shyly at me and said, ‘Your uncle baint here, Miss Sarah. Had to go out early this morning.’
‘Benson, can we see the new calf?’
‘Ah, so it’s the little fella you’re interested in! Right-ho then, come along.’
He touched his forehead to me in a delightfully old-world gesture and led the way into the clean, pungently sweet-smelling byre. It was warm, and sunlight filtered through the door on to the clean straw which lay on the floor. Benson went ahead of us and slapped gently at the brown and cream hindquarters of the animal in the end stall. ‘Move over, lass, and let Miss Sarah see the little un.’
‘Oh!’ Sarah gasped ecstatically. The tiny animal stood beside its mother, great mournful eyes staring up at us, and twitching tail. ‘What’s he called?’
‘Well now, he’s entered in the book as Stacey’s Pride, but I own we don’t call un that!’
Sarah’s eyes were still fixed on the enchanting little creature. ‘What do you call him, then?’
Benson laughed and scratched his head. ‘Up to now I been calling un Titch!’
‘Titch’, Sarah repeated. ‘That’s what Uncle Mike used to call me, but I’m too big now.’ Across her head the cowman’s kindly eyes met mine. Sarah reached out a hand to scratch the top of the head between the silken bumps that would grow into horns. The little animal lifted his head back and rolled his long, rough tongue round her fingers.
‘No milk there,’ smiled Benson and Sarah gasped as the searching tongue rasped her flesh. The cow turned her head and watched us with liquid eyes, but she appeared to accept our admiration with equanimity. The delicate ears flicked back and forth.
‘We must be going, Sarah,’ I said quietly, ‘or we’ll be late for lunch.’ I turned to Benson.
‘Thank you for letting us look at him.’
We walked out of the dim stall into the bright sunlight of the cobbled yard.
‘I wish I lived on a farm!’ Sarah exclaimed, relinquishing the Queen without a backward glance.
I smiled and took her hand. ‘Come along, I’ll race you to the top of the hill!’
Matthew kept to his intention of lunching at the golf club and the rest of us had a lighthearted meal. Sarah chatted incessantly about the calf and how she wished she lived on a farm. I saw Kate’s eyes on her speculatively, but she made no comment.
The bracing walk had cleared my head of any lingering uneasiness and I was ready to shrug off my nebulous fears as heightened imagination. Impossible to suppose there could be any threat to us, sitting here in the sun-filled dining-room.
‘Do change your mind and come down to the beach Emily!’ Kate urged me.
‘Well .. ’ I wasn’t too anxious for her company.
‘Please!’ she added.
‘All right. I suppose after the end of the month there won’t be many more chances to go-’
‘You are lucky –’ Sarah began.
‘Hush, Sarah,’ interposed Miss Tamworth. ‘You’ve had a long summer holiday, but Sunday afternoons are set aside for church, as well you know.’
‘Mummy doesn’t go to church,’ Sarah protested.
‘That,’ said Miss Tamworth with a glint in her eye, ‘is her affair.’ I had myself seen Miss Tamworth setting off in unbecoming grey as I made my way to the library that morning.
‘Mummy is beyond redemption,’ said Kate lightly, and again I felt the extra-sensory quiver.
Miss Tamworth frowned reprovingly and Sarah said with her mouth full, ‘What’s redemption?’
‘Nothing you need trouble your head about,’ retorted Miss Tamworth sharply.
Kate tossed her napkin on the table and stood up. ‘See you at tea, Sarah. Put in a prayer for me! Come on, Emily.’
Silently I followed her from the room and we went upstairs to collect our beach things. We did not speak as we walked together down the path to the main road. There was an offshore breeze and as we came out of the shelter of the high hedges it blew us forward with gusty breaths.
‘I hope it will be warm enough down there,’ I said doubtfully, remembering the blowing sand on my last visit.
‘It will if we sit against the cliff. This is the bay where the girl was drowned, isn’t it? Strange business, that.’
‘Strange?’
‘That she could have drowned on such a calm day. Apparently there wasn’t a breath of wind.’
‘I suppose if you can’t swim, you can’t swim, and that’s all there is to it.’
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Kate slung a sweater over her shoulder and one of its sleeves knocked the sunglasses out of my hand. They landed on the grass just where the little track I’d noticed before ran round the face of the cliff.
‘Do you know where that comes out?’ I asked, as I bent to retrieve them.
‘Not really – it probably meanders round to the next bay.’ She waited for me to rejoin her, staring out to sea with her hand shading her eyes.
‘I should keep to the inside edge,’ I advised. ‘It’s very steep round the next corner.’
‘Yes, I know.’
I flushed. Again, I’d forgotten that Kate wasn’t a stranger here, and this wasn’t the first time she’d been down to the bay. However, she didn’t notice my confusion.
‘What do you think of Mike?’ she demanded.
I said evasively, ‘He’s good fun.’
‘He’s too good-looking by half,’ Kate said shortly, ‘It ensures that he always gets his own way.’
‘Not with me, he won’t!’ I said emphatically, and she gave a brief laugh.
‘Good for you!’
The sand was warm and soft sifting through my sandals. I was glad of the book I’d brought; I did not relish the thought of an entire afternoon’s conversation with Kate.
We spread our rug up against the foot of the cliffs and she peeled off shirt and trousers. I huddled into mine, reluctant, for the moment, to undress. Kate’s long legs seemed to go on for ever in her brief swimsuit. Her shadow, even longer legged, flickered up the cliff face behind us.
She sat down beside me and lit a cigarette. ‘Don’t you get bored to tears down here?’ she asked, lifting her head and blowing a cloud of smoke into the air.
‘I’ve only been here two weeks.’
‘Two days is usually enough for me!’
‘But you were here longer, surely? I mean –’
‘When Matthew and I were together? I used to drag him up to London on the slightest pretext. He hated it. When I had to stay here, I invited friends down to liven things up. That caused more rows than anything.’ She sat forward hugging her knees and gazing out to sea, her eyes narrowed against the cigarette smoke.
‘I started spending the weeks in town and coming here only at weekends. It couldn’t go on like that, and it didn’t. That’s all there was to it. I never dreamt Matthew meant to keep me down here all the time. It’s not only that the place has been in the family so long – he actually seems to like it!’
I smiled in spite of myself. ‘And that was two years ago?’
‘Yes. Since then he’s just had Sarah and Tammy for company, though I sometimes wondered about that blonde secretary of his.’
I moistened dry lips. ‘Why?’ The word was almost a croak.
Kate shrugged. ‘No particular reason, except they were cooped up together all day.’
I said unwisely, ‘Mike thinks he wants you back.’
She swung her head towards me with a look of almost idiotic surprise.
‘What?’
I knew there was no need to repeat it, so I merely nodded confirmation. A slow smile broke over her face.
‘Honestly? Well, that really is rich!’
There was a sudden, tinkling sound above us, and a tiny pebble landed on my lap. I looked up, and my whole body became an arch of terror. How I bunched my frozen muscles I don’t know, but I leapt at Kate and knocked her sideways. Clutching hold of her, I rolled with her over the sand, the force of impact carrying us several yards, first one uppermost, then the other.
It seemed hours but could have been only thirty seconds from the pebble landing on my lap to the deafening crash that echoed through the rocks. I felt Kate’s fingers dig convulsively into my shoulders.
There was a choking, blinding cloud of dust and sand. When it cleared, we saw that an enormous boulder, with dust already settling on it, lay squarely in the middle of our rug.
‘God,’ said Kate whitely, ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
‘I’ll be back in a minute!’ Acting on blind impulse I jumped up and ran for the steps. I had not stopped to search for my sandals – they were probably under the boulder anyway – and the sharp flint knifed my feet. I hardly noticed it. Choking, gasping, legs on fire, I forced myself to run up the twisting, winding steps to the grass track, where I stopped, heart pounding, drawing in huge lungsful of air. There on the path, where I had dropped my sunglasses twenty minutes earlier, lay a ground-out cigarette. It had not been there before.
The fact reverberated round my head like crashing cymbals and the blood drummed sickeningly in my ears. My legs felt as though they might give way any minute, but I stepped carefully over the cigarette and started along the track, hardly knowing what I was doing, until, immediately below me, I could see the shattered boulder.
I inched forward. There was a depression in the grass where someone had been crouching. In the face of the cliff just below the track, exposed stone gaped rawly. The cavity where the boulder had lain was dank and ranksmelling. Little grey insects, suddenly exposed to the daylight, scurried obscenely in all directions.
It must have taken a very hard shove to dislodge it. I accepted the thought on a superficial level, refusing to examine it. Then a gull screamed discordantly, shattering my false calm, and I started to shake.
I must go back to Kate. For which of us had that gruesome death been planned?
I stumbled back the way I had come, head bent, eyes intent on the track, and cannoned into someone coming down the path. I heard myself scream and the sound went on ringing in my head.
Matthew’s voice vibrated with shock. ‘Emily, in God’s name what is it?’ His hands gripped me like iron clamps.
I couldn’t answer him. I shook my head helplessly, seeming only to stand because he held me.
‘Emily – speak to me! What happened.?
My tongue moved awkwardly in my dry mouth. At the second attempt the words came. ‘A boulder – crashed down – on the rug – where we were sitting.’ I couldn’t look at his face.
‘Kate?’ The tone was urgent.
‘She’s all right.’
‘Thank God!’
‘Thank Emily would be more to the point!’ We both turned. Kate, ashen-faced and shivering in her emerald swimsuit, stood just below us on the path, if she hadn’t pushed me clear, it would have been curtains for Kate Hardacre.’
‘I can’t believe it!’ Matthew said. His eyes were like coals in his white face. He slipped off his jacket and draped it round Kate’s bare shoulders. Then he took each of us by the arm, and we started back to the house.
Our return to Touchstone was nothing if not dramatic. Matthew flung open the front door and called, ‘Tammy! Mrs Johnson! Rugs and hot-water bottles – quickly!’
I have a confused memory of their white, staring faces. Then Kate and I were firmly settled by the now-welcome fire in the passage, wrapped in rugs and sipping hot sweet tea.
Matthew moved about distractedly, staring from one of us to the other. After a while Kate stopped shuddering and raised her head from her cup to ask, ‘Emily, why did you dash up the path like that?’
I’d been dreading the question. ‘I – I thought I saw something.’
‘And did you?’ Matthew asked. His eyes were on me, dark, unfathomable, and waiting.
‘No,’ I said, then, since it seemed further explanation was needed, I added the first thing that came into my head, it must have been all the heavy rain that loosened it.’
There was a sudden crash as the front door swung open and banged against the wall.
‘Emily? Emily, are you there?’
Matthew, his eyes on me, called, ‘She’s all right, Mike.’
‘What in God’s name happened?’ Mike, as white as the rest of us, came quickly round the corner, stopping short as he saw Kate and me swathed in our rugs like a pair of old Indians.
‘How did you know anything had?’ Matthew asked, quietly.
Mike answered automatically. ‘I came to look for them – here at the house first, because Emily said she wasn’t going to the beach. There was no one in so I thought she must have changed her mind, and went home for my swimming gear. But when I got to the beach, there was a bloody great slab plum in the middle of the rug and Emily’s sunglasses beside it. I thought – I didn’t know what to think.’
Swiftly he came over, knelt in front of me and took my hands in his. I gripped them tightly. ‘You really are all right, honey?’
‘Yes, really Mike.’ I could feel his heart hammering against my knees. He bent his head for a moment to my rug-swathed knees. There was a pulse beating in his temple and his forehead was sticky with sweat.
He raised his head again and gave me a one-sided smile. ‘I wouldn’t like to live through that again!’
‘Nor would I!’ said Kate violently.
Mike looked over at her, still gripping my hands.
‘But what happened?’
‘The “bloody great slab” as you put it landed where we’d been lying half a minute before. If it hadn’t been for Emily’s quick thinking, that would most definitely have been it.’ Kate spread her hands expressively and then clutched at the rug as it slipped from her shoulders.
‘And where were you, Matthew?’ Although Mike spoke pleasantly enough, the hint of accusation hung on the air. My hands fluttered protestingly in his, but he stilled them with a tighter grip.
‘On my way back from the golf club,’ Matthew answered levelly. ‘I bumped into Emily on the path – she told me what had happened.’
Mike frowned. ‘On the path?’
‘I – wanted to see what had loosened it,’ I stammered, repeating stupidly, ‘it must have been all that rain.’
Mike released my hands at last and stood up. ‘Are you both feeling better now?’
Kate nodded and uncurled her legs. ‘A really hot bath and all will be well.’
‘I could do with a cold one,’ Mike said. I saw that his shirt was plastered against him. He must have come up that path as though the Furies were at his heels – and all because he was afraid for me. There had been a look in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. Oh Mike, I thought despairingly, please don’t fall in love with me.
The front door again opened and closed, and Sarah appeared at the end of the passage, halting as she saw our incongruous group. ‘Mummy, I thought you were going to the beach!’
‘Not any more,’ said Kate grimly. ‘There was a – a landslide – we just missed a nasty accident. You mustn’t go to that bay again, Sarah, it’s not safe.’ She stood up. ‘Matthew, if I could make use of your bathroom, Emily can have the other.’
‘Of course.’
Mike helped me to my feet. I was still unsteady on them. He slipped an arm round my waist and gave me a squeeze. ‘Come on, old crock, I’ll take you to the top of the stairs.’ We set off as slowly as a pair of invalids, Matthew following with Kate. The cavalcade wound slowly up the stairs and came to a halt outside my room.
Mike said, ‘Since our afternoon on the beach was a write-off, may I come round this evening, long-lost cousin?’
Out of the corner of my eye I caught Matthew’s involuntary movement of protest. But Kate was saying, ‘Of course, darling, that would be lovely.’
‘See you!’ Mike said. He bent forward and kissed my cheek, raised a hand in farewell, and ran back down the stairs.
I went into my room, a lot of half-formed queries jostling in my head. Last night had been, in Mike’s opinion, ‘one hell of an evening’, so why did he want a repeat? And, overriding everything else, whose cigarette lay ground into the grass by the clifftop?
I came out of my room en route for the bathroom. Matthew’s door stood open, as did that of his en suite bathroom. As I closed the main bathroom door I heard Kate come out of the guest room, tap lightly on his door, and say with a laugh in her voice, ‘This is just like old times!’
I slid the bolt with suppressed violence and turned the taps on full.