The days between Christmas and New Year passed quickly for Claudia. Although she joined a long hike over the moor on Boxing Day with Leanne and her family, she was so engrossed in the needs of the coach house now that she spent most of her time there. She sanded, stained, painted, plastered, polished, and always visualized: the Decorum sideboard could go here, the vintage chaise longue there, the sitting room would be a perfect home for the coffee table she’d created out of a door, the refectory table was going to need at least ten chairs.
Each time she let herself into the place she was filled with happiness, for the main front door opened straight into the heart of the house. Everything was open plan, with the kitchen and its arched windows to the left, the sitting room and its matching spectacular windows to the right, and doors leading from each end to the east and west wings. Her craft room, bedroom, and bathroom were on the far side of the kitchen, her mother’s study and en suite bedroom was off the sitting room, and Jasmine’s domain was in the tower.
The densely brambled chaos that stretched between the house and the moor was going to become her mother’s project, and Marcy was already talking to a landscaper about which trees, shrubs, and beds could be saved and restored.
What Claudia loved most of all about being there, however, was how welcome and safe the house made her feel. It wasn’t only the solidity of the centuries-old walls, or the shelter of the roof, it was the quiet and soulful character of the place, the intangible yet present sense of it taking care of her, the way she was taking care of it.
It already felt like an old and trusted friend, she told Marcy. “Do you feel it too?” she’d asked that morning when they’d brought more paint samples and cleaning equipment. At the time they’d been standing side by side just inside the front door gazing into the half-finished sitting room and partly installed kitchen and out through the set of double French windows at the rear to a dilapidated terrace and wilderness beyond.
“Yes, I do,” Marcy replied earnestly. “I never imagined I’d feel like this about anywhere again, but it’s very special, and what you’re doing with it seems to honor it in ways I’d never have dreamt of myself.”
Loving the answer, Claudia rested her head on her mother’s shoulder.
“We’ve met some wonderful people here,” Marcy commented softly, “and now you’re creating this beautiful home. I can see us doing quite a bit of entertaining, can’t you?”
Yes, Claudia could, in fact she was already planning a housewarming and a special dinner to say thank you to Andee for all she’d done to make this happen. She wouldn’t admit it to Andee, but more than anything else this house, and her growing business, had helped her to stop obsessing about Marcus, imagining him in his prison cell, furious, vengeful, plotting how to find her. It was always there, lurking beneath the reality of her new existence, his voice finding her in moments of insecurity, his threats combining with the dread of his sister, or someone else, suddenly turning up on her doorstep. However, she was finding it easier to move past the fear now, to clear her thoughts of the darkness that emanated from all memories of him.
Noticing the time, she said, “You should go, Mum, or you won’t be there when Henry comes to pick you up.”
Glancing at her watch Marcy agreed, “You’re right, but don’t stay long, will you? You’ll need to get ready for the ball.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Claudia hugged her. “You have a great time, and happy New Year.”
“To you too,” Marcy said warmly. “Love you and see you tomorrow.”
IT HAD LONG been dark outside by the time Claudia finally locked up the coach house and returned to her car. It shouldn’t take much more than twenty minutes to drive back into town, but she was in no hurry, for she’d decided several days ago that she wouldn’t be going to the ball. She hadn’t told anyone; if she had it might have stopped her mother going to London, or Jasmine celebrating with her friends at a party in the Old Town. Plus, Andee and Leanne would probably have done their best to persuade her to change her mind, and Dan . . . Well, it was unlikely to make a difference to him whether or not she was there. He could always introduce her to Julie Forrest another time; it didn’t have to be tonight.
Checking the time as she drove away, she imagined her mother arriving at the theater with Henry around about now, looking glamorous and excited in a sequined black dress and mock-fur cape. It pleased her so much to think of Marcy and Jasmine being happy that she didn’t really mind about herself; after all, in her way she was happy too. Moreover, the sudden bouts of anxiety she’d suffered when they’d first gotten here only ever seemed to happen now when she left her car outside the flat and ran up the steps to go inside. She couldn’t prevent herself from thinking someone was going to appear from the shadows to stop her, and she never felt totally safe until the front door was closed and locked behind her.
This evening her mind was so full of what still needed to be done at the coach house that she made it into the villa and was kicking off her boots behind the locked door of the flat before it occurred to her to feel worried. Clocking it up as another small milestone achieved, she went through to the living area, where the chaos of a teenager getting ready to go out was strewn like a still life across the table. She regarded it thoughtfully, although her mind wasn’t on it. She was thinking more about how quiet the place seemed and what she might have worn if she had gone out.
Since it was hardly relevant now, she put on some music and poured herself a drink before starting to tidy up. Later she’d make herself something to eat, take a shower, and since it would be pointless trying to sleep any time before midnight, she’d go to sit in the window to watch the revelries on the Promenade. She might even open a bottle of champagne. It would be good to toast in the New Year with so much to look forward to, even if she was on her own.
What she didn’t plan to do, but had known in the back of her mind that she might, was go through to her mother’s room to find out if Marcy really had shredded the mail that DC Leo Johnson had brought. She’d said she had, but would she actually have destroyed the prison letter before finding out what it contained? Yes, Claudia had noticed it in the pile, and though she’d pushed it out of her mind since, she felt compelled to know if her mother had kept it.
She found it, opened, in Marcy’s shoe cupboard, and as she stared down at the familiar and detested writing she felt bile rising in her throat. She was certain it contained something terrible, couldn’t imagine anything else coming from him.
My darling wife,
I am heartbroken by your desertion. Your failure to write to me, or come and see me is making the time here almost impossible to bear. Some days I feel I simply cannot go on, for without you in my life there seems no point to it.
Please, wherever you are, reconsider your decision to leave me. I know I have not always been a perfect husband, but I love you, my angel, and I have always done my best to give you everything you ever wanted.
Eugena tells me that you have taken some keepsakes from the house, and I felt so happy when I thought you wanted to hold on to something of mine to remind you of me. But then you didn’t get in touch, and we don’t know where you are, so please contact Eugena, or write to me, my darling, to let me know that you are safe.
Your safety means everything to me, you know that.
I will never give up on you, my precious. Not ever.
Your beloved
Marcus
Claudia shivered with fear and revulsion. The sugarcoated words, the declarations of love that were so artificial and insidious they were sick, were all for the censors, of course. Those cold and disinterested eyes wouldn’t see the threats between the lines, nor would they pick up on the intimidation the way she had, the way he had meant her to.
She understood him completely and she wasn’t surprised by this letter, only afraid and already trying to plan what to do.
“WHY DID YOU keep it?” Claudia demanded, almost as soon as Marcy returned the next day. “Make me understand, Mum, because we didn’t need him back in our lives, and now by opening this and reading it you’ve let him in.”
Marcy looked pale and tired, and only mildly upset that Claudia had gone through her room. “I don’t know why I kept it,” she admitted. “And as for opening it . . . I suppose I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away without knowing what it said. I’m sorry, I realize it wasn’t a good decision, but he still doesn’t know where we are. Isn’t that what really matters?”
“What matters,” Claudia argued, “is that he’s not going to give up until he finds us. He’s made that perfectly clear. Eugena is bound to be doing all she can to track us down and I’m afraid, as I’ve always been, that it’s only a matter of time before she succeeds. And this,” she added, hitting the letter, “reminds us that we need to be afraid.”
“So what are you saying?” Jasmine asked quietly. “That we should live in denial until someone catches up with us?”
Claudia’s heart clenched as her eyes closed.
“Or maybe,” Jasmine continued, “we should give the attaché case back.”
Marcy shook her head. “Even if we do that, there won’t be an end to it,” she said. “The names on those documents might not mean anything to us, but they obviously do to someone and the fact that we’ve seen them . . .” She let the sentence hang, not knowing how to finish it.
Jasmine said, “The money’s yours, Mum. We’re all agreed on that.”
“He stole a lot more from you than we’ve taken from him,” Marcy stated.
Claudia didn’t argue with that, for it was true, but she wanted him out of their lives, and if that meant giving everything back she would do it.
“I understand how you feel,” Marcy said, when Claudia voiced her thoughts, “but it’s not as simple as that. We have to think about how vengeful he is, and we agreed before you emptied the safe that having the money and the documents that incriminate others would be our protection. Our insurance. If anyone came after us we could threaten to go to the police . . .”
“But we didn’t know what we were doing,” Claudia cried in frustration. “Looking back, I can hardly believe how crazy we were to think we could get away with it, that we could just disappear and turn ourselves into other people who couldn’t be traced . . .”
“Crazy, maybe,” Jasmine put in quickly, “but we’ve done it.”
“Except the police know where we are,” Claudia reminded her, “so we haven’t been that successful.”
“They wouldn’t know if you and Nana hadn’t called them,” Jasmine reminded her. “Anyway, it’s not really about how we have or haven’t managed to pull off a disappearance, it’s about that briefcase. So what I propose is that we give Eugena the documents and keep the cash.”
Claudia covered her face with her hands. “I want to agree,” she replied wretchedly, “I really do, but now I’m afraid that whatever we do we’ll end up making things worse for ourselves.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Jasmine pressed.
“I don’t know. I just wish we’d never taken it, but even if we hadn’t he’d still have come after us, and by now he must be going out of his mind trying to find a way to punish me for escaping him.”
Aware of how true that was, Marcy got up from the table to go and put on the kettle. Her weekend bag was still on the floor where she’d left it when she’d come in to find Claudia sitting at the table waiting for her. Jasmine had been holding the letter so Marcy had known right away what it was about, she just hadn’t been ready at the time to deal with the fallout.
“There is something we could consider,” she said, turning back to face them. “I’ve been going over it in my mind for a while, but it’s a decision we need to make together.”
Claudia and Jasmine regarded her with anxious and hopeful eyes.
“We could talk to Andee about it and ask her advice. We know she’s someone we can trust and . . . what? Why are you shaking your head?” she asked Claudia.
“We’re not her responsibility,” Claudia cried, “and she’s already been so good to us. I can’t burden her with this.”
Marcy looked at Jasmine, hoping for some support, but Jasmine merely shrugged.
Marcy continued to make the tea. She was too tired to deal with this now, or at least to deal with it well, so it was best to let it go until she could think more clearly.
Going to embrace her mother, Claudia said softly, “We don’t have to do anything right away, after all it’s just a letter, sent over four months ago, and he still hasn’t found out where we are. So why don’t we just carry on as we are for now, and as soon as any of us wants to discuss it again we will. Does that sound OK?”
Marcy nodded and attempted a smile. “That sounds fine,” she agreed, and put aside her other suggestion, which had been to tell Henry, since that wasn’t likely to be met with any more enthusiasm than telling Andee.
“It sounds fine to me too,” Jasmine told them. Her eyes were fixed on Claudia. “I just don’t want you to start obsessing about it, Mum, and making yourself ill.”
“I promise I won’t,” Claudia told her, and because the tension needed diffusing, she said, “Now I think we should change the subject and ask Nana how she got on in London with Henry.”
With a weak laugh Marcy said, “It was wonderful, thank you, but I think we drank a little too much champagne last night. I’m awfully hungover. What about you? How was the ball?”
“She didn’t go,” Jasmine declared hotly.
Claudia turned to her in surprise. “How do you know?” she asked.
“Leanne told me when she and Tom came home. They were trying to call you to find out where you were, but you weren’t answering your phone. It’s only because you’d texted Happy New Year to me that I didn’t flip out and come looking for you.”
“Why didn’t you go?” Marcy wanted to know.
“Because I didn’t want to risk being a third wheel?” Claudia countered, trying to make it sound amusing.
Marcy’s eyes closed in dismay. “I was afraid that might happen,” she groaned, “but you’ve got no idea if this artist person was Dan’s partner for the evening—and you told me before I left for London that you were going.”
“I had to, or you wouldn’t have gone—and I was fine. It didn’t matter, honestly.”
Exasperated, Marcy said, “So you shut yourself up here and went through my room to find a letter from the very person you should be eliminating from your life, a letter I shouldn’t have kept, but did, and now we’ve got ourselves all unsettled . . .” She raised her hands, stopping herself from ranting any further. “This is my fault,” she stated, “so how about I try to make amends and take us to the Italian for an early dinner?”
“Deffo up for that,” Jasmine cheered eagerly. “I’m starving.”
Claudia said, “It’s not your fault, but we’ll let it go now, and I’ll call to make sure the restaurant’s open . . .”
“It is,” Jasmine assured her.
“OK, so do you think Henry would like to join us?”
Marcy’s eyes rounded with surprise. “Are you sure?” she asked carefully.
“Of course, I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
“Then I’ll give him a call,” Marcy responded, still looking doubtful, but starting to smile. “And while I’m at it, why don’t you get in touch with Dan to see if he’d like to come too?”
Claudia regarded her incredulously. Had she already forgotten the letter they’d just been discussing? Surely she realized what a mistake it would be for Claudia to allow anyone to come too close again, and not only because of how wrong she’d gotten it the last time. What bothered her just as much was the mere thought of inflicting the specter, much less the potential reality, of Marcus on anyone as decent as Dan. “That really isn’t going to happen,” she said shortly, and before anyone could argue she went through to her room and closed the door.