There was no sign of Larry during the next few days. Every minute of each hour, Rosemary expected him to appear. Megan was certain it had been Larry whom she had seen, and the car which he said he had hired but which she suspected he in fact owned, was unusual in the area. Then something else occurred to worry her.
She drove home from work one evening, rather late, having taken the shift that finished when the library closed at eight o’clock. She was tired and, seeing the parking space empty, apart from the old Capri owned by Richard Lloyd, with no sign of the Citroen, she dejectedly walked across the footbridge and prepared herself mentally for another lonely evening.
She unlocked the door and for a moment thought he was there, there was that indefinable difference to which she was now attuned; the house felt different, inhabited, yet there was no answer to her call. Something else was different, a smell, there was an unpleasant odour pervading the house; what was it? Her memory reached out to it but failed to name the source, yet it was one she knew.
Putting down the food she had bought ready for her meal, she flicked on the television. A coldness spilt down her spine: the chair had been moved!
It was always in the same position, the perfect place for watching the television and for listening to her stereo. She examined the carpet, which confirmed her intuition. The compressed pile showed where it had once stood, the four marks of the legs deep and unmistakable. Someone had been here, sitting in her chair.
There was something else. A book thrown onto the floor, a guide book on New York, bought while she had been holidaying there. The smell was stronger now. She stood up and then saw, on the floor behind the settee, a vase that had fallen. From it spilled flowers, dead flowers. She recognised the vase and the flowers as some she had placed on Gethyn’s mother’s grave a few days before. They were the reason for the smell, the flowers were dead, their stems slimed with decay and spread on the carpet as if the vase had been placed on the floor and knocked over.
It was Larry! It must have been him. He was perhaps hiding, having parked the car somewhere different to tease her.
But although the relief flowed through her momentarily, she knew she was deluding herself. Larry wouldn’t frighten her like this. His humour was always gentle, he had never shown any tendency to use malice or cruelty in the name of fun.
She felt a desire to run, her muscles tightened, preparing her for flight. The centre of her back felt vulnerable, exposed, but she forced herself to look further. She thought of Gethyn but she couldn’t ask him to come in and search, he’d think her mad, and, if she went from the house, however briefly, whoever it was might get away. For a moment that seemed very desirable, but she knew she would never sleep in the house again if she did not search it now.
Could she be mistaken? Hardly, with the evidence staring her in the face. The flowers had been in the churchyard and now they were here, in her living room, making it smell like a funeral parlour from some nightmare. She hadn’t become oversensitive, there was a mystery attaching itself to her; overheard conversations, now someone entering her home and leaving horrible calling cards.
Whatever it was, the problem was hers to deal with. Although she could not imagine how or why, it definitely included Larry. It had begun at the time he had entered her life.
For that reason alone she knew she must get to the root of it.
The small front room into which she went first was sparsely furnished and it took only a glance to see it was empty. There was little there that could reveal the interference of an uninvited visitor, but she moved the furniture, examined the carpet just the same, all the time listening for any sound that would reveal the presence of an intruder. Nothing revealed any disturbance.
From the Victorian fireplace she picked up a heavy, brass-headed poker and began to make her way up the carpeted stairs.
She climbed slowly and cautiously, craning her neck to look upwards to the shadowy landing above her. No sound except her own breathing. No shadows moving except her own. The house was silent but not with the quiet of undisturbed tranquility, more, she thought with a shiver, a pause, a holding of breath before something happened.
Her study seemed undisturbed, but there was a sensation of it being inhabited by something other than her desk and her books and papers. She looked at the top sheet. So far as she could remember, it was as she had left it. The final chapter in note-form, was piled to the left of her typewriter. The telephone! Was it a little more to the right?
No, she was inventing now.
Her heart beating painfully, filled with the longing to run away and fetch Gethyn, she pushed her feet forward and opened the door of her bedroom. It was empty, but there, on her freshly made up bed, clearly to be seen, was the shape of someone having stretched full length upon it, the man-sized indentation touching her pillow and reaching almost to the foot.
She felt sick and she tore at the bedding, removing everything until the mattress was bare. She threw sheets and pillows down the stairs; it would all have to be destroyed. She couldn’t even consider using it again after it had been contaminated by the touch of someone unknown.
Sobs escaping, she struggled to push it all into black rubbish sacks and dragged it outside the door with a shudder of horror. The dead flowers followed, their smell lingering long after they had been placed in the dustbin. She sat down trembling and wondered what to do.
For tonight, at least, she needed to get out of the house. She thought of Gethyn, then Huw. She needed to talk. But it was Larry she needed. After ringing Megan and arranging to spend the night with her, she dialled one of the numbers Larry had given her. She didn’t have much hope of reaching him and she almost replaced the receiver before anyone answered.
To her relief, the person at the other end said Larry was there and would she hold on while she fetched him. Within moments she was crying, explaining and allowing him to make decisions. She was only half listening but managed to understand that he would be there the following morning and would change all the locks and add bolts to every door.
‘It won’t happen again, we’ll make very sure of that.’
Before packing what she needed and going to stay with Megan, Rosemary knocked at Gethyn’s door.
‘Have you seen anyone hanging about here?’ she asked, trying to hold back her nervous inclination to cry. ‘Anyone who doesn’t belong here?’
‘No,’ he shook his head slowly, trying to think. ‘Only the American.’
‘You mean Larry?’ She thought again that it might have been him. He could have called, got in and waited a while, then felt a little guilty at going in while she wasn’t there and declined to admit it? But no. He would have explained the instant she spoke to him. And what about the dead flowers?
No, he wouldn’t have frightened her half out of her wits!
‘That’s right, the American. No one else. Oh, the students were down here doing something but that was yesterday I think, or the day before. Why?’
‘Gethyn, I think someone has been in my house.’
‘Never! I’d have seen for sure if someone had been anywhere near your door. I sit here near the front windows a lot, looking at the birds coming to the stream to drink. I sit reading my magazines and books and can’t help looking up when someone passes, although it’s rare, as you know. It’s so quiet. I’d have been certain to see someone, now wouldn’t I? You must have imagined it. You’re tired I expect.’
Rosemary felt an inclination to smile even though she was still frightened and upset. He sounded like his mother!
‘Take it quietly for a few days,’ he went on, ‘then you’ll forget all about it. Imagination, that’s all it is,’ he soothed.
For a moment, she almost believed him. She nodded. There was no sense in bothering him about it any further, and Larry would change the locks in the morning.
‘I’m going to spend the night with Megan. You know, from the library,’ she explained.
‘Oh.’ For a moment he looked disapproving then he smiled. ‘More gallivanting!’
She walked across the bridge to the car. Then with a frown on her brow, she went back and asked Gethyn, ‘When did you see Larry?’
‘Earlier today, about midday I think. Why, d’you think he – ?’
‘Of course not!’ She turned on her heels, away from Gethyn and the thought that he might have touched on the truth.
Megan lived in the centre of the small town and in the back bedroom she had a folding bed. It was only two feet across and Rosemary wondered if she would get any sleep at all. The fright she had still had her trembling inside and with a small, hard bed – she hesitated, then a tight ball of defiance built up inside her and she shook her head. She mustn’t be driven out of her house. Foul smell and all, she was going back.
‘Megan, I know you’ll think me foolish but, I won’t stay after all.’
‘I think you should, dear, just for tonight.’
‘I think someone is trying to frighten me out of the house. Those dead flowers, ach y fl! Then there was the time when Mrs Priestley called and asked if I was over my accident, she’d heard I had hurt my ankle falling down the stairs. How did she know? I told no one about that, except you and that was on the phone. I just have the feeling that someone is listening to everything I say, or am I going crazy?’
‘Crazy if you ask me, girl! After all, you only have to ask Mrs Priestley where she heard it from!’ Megan replied. ‘There must be simple explanations for all the small mysteries, and crazy you definitely are if you’re thinking of going back to that house at this time of night without even a bed made ready for you to sleep in! Come on, I’ll get you a hot drink and you can settle down.’
Rosemary shook her head, her lips tightly pressed.
‘No. Thank you, Megan, you’re very kind, but I’m going back.’
‘All right,’ Megan said resignedly, ‘but I’m coming with you!’ She refused to listen to any arguments. She packed the few items she needed for an overnight stay and went with Rosemary to her car.
It was ten o’clock but the day had been a fine one and there was enough light to see their way easily across the bridge and into the silent house. Rosemary went in first and as she reached for the light, a hand came over hers, damp, large and terrifyingly strong. It held her for what seemed a lifetime then released its hold, and she screamed.
Megan was close behind her as a shadow separated itself from the darkness of the corner and launched itself towards them. The shape was large and obviously a man, but it was all a blurr of frenzied movement.
Rosemary was pushed back against the wall swiftly and roughly by a powerful arm. Her head sang with the force of the contact. She pulled herself away from him to stagger against her friend. After a terrifying moment, filled with muffled sounds and sightless struggles, lunging arms and enormous shadows that seemed to grow as they loomed, Rosemary fell to the ground on top of Megan. They fell in a tangled heap and could only watch and scream as the figure disappeared along the path beside the stream.
Huw Rees was the first to arrive, and he was followed by Mrs Priestley nursing her cat and wearing a blue dressing gown.
‘What happened?’ Huw asked. ‘We heard screams.’ Coming up behind him, dressed in shorts, like himself, was Richard Lloyd. Rosemary was too distraught to give an explanation and it was Megan who told them about their experience.
‘Best you call the police,’ Richard said. ‘I’ll go back and phone, shall I?’
Huw remained with an arm around Rosemary and Megan. He talked soothingly and offered to stay with them all night.
A light came on in the porch of Gethyn’s house and the door opened a crack. He looked out, but seeing what appeared to be a crowd, did not venture outside. Rosemary thought she ought to go and explain to him what had happened, but Huw’s arms were too comforting.
Megan went to talk to Gethyn and when she had told him briefly what had occurred, she came back and reported to Rosemary that he was ‘there if she needed him’.
‘I’d better go and talk to him, ask if he heard or saw anyone,’ Rosemary said, trying to control the shaking of her limbs. Huw’s arms tightened as Mrs Priestley said, ‘No you don’t, my dear. You’ll come with me and have a cup of hot, sugared tea and a piece of cake while we wait for the police. Nothing like a bit of carbohydrate for shock.’ She glanced at Megan, whom she recognised, and pursing her lips in disapproval, added sharply, ‘Your friend had better stay and wait for the police, hadn’t she!’
‘No, Megan is just as shocked as me and—’ Rosemary stopped. The expression on Mrs Priestley’s face showed startling enmity. Not for the first time, she realised, and recalled that for some mysterious reason neither had explained, Mrs Priestley disliked her friend intensely. She looked from one to the other and decided that in this intance her loyalties were with Megan.
She pulled free of the old lady’s arm and returned to stand near her friend.
The police searched the house and when they asked about the unmade bed, Rosemary explained about the previous fear that there had been someone there. After reassuring her that her home was now empty of any unwelcome trespasser, and as secure as they could make it, they left, promising to keep a special eye on the place.
After a brief word with Gethyn, they drove once again to Megan’s house, leaving the occupants of the five cottages unable to sleep. Huw and Richard waved them off and from her front window, Mrs Priestley, still nursing her cat, also waved goodbye. Gethyn stood at his door and watched until they were out of sight.
‘What I can’t understand,’ Megan said as they drove up onto the main road, ‘is how anyone can do anything without the rest knowing! Gethyn was in his window watching when we arrived. I saw the curtains twitch.’
‘No, you must have been mistaken, he told me he had gone to bed early and was woken by our screams,’ Rosemary said.
‘Then what made the curtains twitch?’
‘The window was open and there’s a bit of a breeze.’
‘Oh, well, all right then, you’re probably right. But,’ she added, ‘they’re a nosy ol’ lot and I bet they’ll know soon enough if someone is playing games with you.’
The friends drove into work together the following day, and to her relief, Rosemary saw Larry waiting for them.
‘I thought I’d get here and do the job as quickly as possible so you can forget being frightened,’ he said as he kissed her. ‘As soon as the stores open, I’ll buy what I need and get it fixed. Don’t worry. I’ll be here to take you two to lunch and by then the house will be as secure as Fort Knox. You have my word.’
‘I’ll have to go shopping for new bedding too,’ she said.
‘I’ll help you choose,’ he said with a grin. ‘I like the ambience to be right for nights with my special girl.’
The morning passed like a flash as Rosemary explained the events of the previous evening to Sally, between attending to her work. Sally was intrigued and wanted to hear every detail.
‘Are you sure it wasn’t this Larry? He isn’t exactly open with you is he? He expects you to take an awful lot on trust. How can you be so trusting? I’d have to come right out and demand some answers.’
‘I don’t know,’ Rosemary said honestly. ‘I just know he’ll explain as soon as he can.’
‘Twpsin you are, falling for a mystery man and too afraid of losing him to protest!’ Sally teased. Rosemary didn’t reply, Sally was right, the fear of losing him was too great for her to insist on anything. If he was using her for some reason of his own, then she would go along with it until he either told her the truth, or vanished from her life completely.
When Larry came at lunch-time he had news for her.
‘It seems you could have been right about someone listening to your conversations,’ he told her. ‘The police had a good look around the area and found a box on the telephone pole that shouldn’t be there. Someone had tapped the lines of the five cottages.’
‘The phone lines have been tapped? In our cottages?’ She stared at him in disbelief. In a small voice she asked, ‘Who?’
‘That they don’t know. The lines had been disconnected from whatever surveillance position was used and there was no sign of a recorder. Whoever did it has managed to hide his part of the installations, so we’ll probably never know. They’re interviewing everyone, and that must include you,’ he said. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll be with you and I think they know you aren’t likely to be the guilty one.’
Megan made her excuses and declined to join them for lunch, and Rosemary sensed in her a slight but growing mistrust for the American. She wondered if it was simply a disappointment that she was less available since Larry had entered her life and taken so much of her time, they had been able to meet less often. But no, she amended, Megan was not the type to be jealous in that way. She wasn’t as outspoken as Sally but she wouldn’t be afraid to complain if she thought it necessary. Perhaps she thinks in the same way as Gethyn, she sighed. The stranger, the newcomer must be the most likely suspect.
They ate at a pub, Larry cheerful and obviously intent on making her laugh and forget her experience. Afterwards, they searched the stalls of the local market and bought a complete set of bedding for the double bed. Larry insisted on paying for it.
‘I must,’ he said with mock severity. ‘I should have listened to you when you told me you thought you were being overheard. This is my way of saying sorry.’
She was glad he was there when she went into the house that evening. They checked the new keys and Rosemary gave one to Larry. ‘If someone comes in now, I’ll know it was you,’ she said, ‘and I won’t be afraid again.’
‘You ought to leave one somewhere,’ he advised. ‘There’s nothing more annoying that finding yourself locked out of your own home, unless it’s being locked out of your car. That happened to me once.’
When they were eating a simple breakfast the following morning, Rosemary pointed to the brick shed at the bottom of the garden.
‘I’ve decided to hide the spare key in there like we used to years ago,’ she told him. ‘There’s a loose brick and no one will think of looking there for it.’
Larry examined the place and agreed.
‘It seems as safe as it can be, but make sure no one sees you put it there. Until the police find out who was responsible, you mustn’t trust anyone, check?’
‘Check,’ she smiled. ‘D’you think the police will find the man?’
‘Surely! In a one horse town like this, with everyone knowing everyone else, it’s a certainty. Dammit, I bet the neighbours can hear you changing your mind!’ Larry sounded more confident than he felt, but needed to reassure her that the nightmare of knowing someone out there had entered her home and defiled her bed, would eventually be ended. Once the culprit was caught, she would be able to put it out of her mind. She smiled at him, knowing what he was trying to do and grateful for his concern.
A few days later, when Larry had gone and the house had once more settled comfortably around her, the postman knocked. Fear rose again.
‘Would you take this in for next door, Rosemary? I can’t make Gethyn hear.’
‘Certainly. He can’t be far.’ She smiled and took the parcel from him.
After an hour, she went outside and knocked on Gethyn’s front door. He opened it immediately and smiled as he took the parcel she offered.
‘Come in for a moment,’ he said, stepping back to allow her room to enter the small hallway.
‘I don’t really have much time—’ she hesitated. But then she changed her mind and stepped in saying brightly, ‘But there’s always a few minutes to spare for a chat with a friend, isn’t there?’ In that moment she had suddenly thought that his refusal to open the door to the postman might have been a ploy to talk to her for a few moments. He was a lonely man, seeing so few people, and it was unkind not to give him a little of her time. He disabused her, saying, ‘I heard the postman knock but I was in the bath, likely he was too busy to knock a second time. Come in. Excuse the mess.’
The room was in a mess. The cupboard which had stood against the wall in a corner, had been moved to stand at an awkward angle further along the wall. Piles of magazines and papers were strewn across the old leather couch. He hurriedly gathered them and put them, and the parcel, into the cupboard and pushed the doors closed.
‘I’ve taken your advice, Rosemary, I’m sorting out some of Mam’s things. Takes for ever, doesn’t it, reading through and wondering what to throw out and what to keep in case it’s needed?’
‘You’ve certainly been busy,’ she laughed. ‘If you want any help – ?’
‘No thanks. Best I get on with it myself. Not working, it gives me something to do.’
‘If you’re sure.’
‘The police haven’t found anyone then?’ he said as he struggled to clear a place for her to sit. ‘I didn’t expect them to. And there’s strange them finding the phone interfered with! In a small place like this you don’t expect such carryings on. More like the way Americans behave than people in our village!’
His eyes darted to her face and away again and Rosemary realised it was his way of saying he suspected Larry of being involved. She ignored the remark and instead asked, ‘Have you found anything interesting?’
‘Interesting?’ He stared at her with an intensity that slightly unnerved her and she waved deprecatingly at the cupboard.
‘You know, papers relating to the family. I think it must be fun, learning facts about yourself and your family that are new to you.’
‘Nothing like that. Only boring old stuff that should have been thrown out years ago.’ He seemed unhappy about her remark, and she wondered if it had sounded like snooping. Although they had known each other all their lives, Gethyn was still a very private person, easily embarrassed, even by her.
She stood to leave, rescuing some forms and documents that slid to the floor as she rose, and putting them on top of others on the table. It seemed that the place was filled with paper, everything from complete newspapers to the smallest cuttings and receipts.
‘Best I let you get on, Gethyn. I can see you have plenty to keep you busy.’
‘Come in later on today, when I’ve got things under control,’ he said and as he spoke, another pile, this time of yellowed newspapers, slowly collapsed and descended in a slow avalanche, onto the carpet. He shrugged and smiled ruefully. ‘Better make it tomorrow!’
There was an easing of the secretiveness Larry showed. Now, she always knew where he could be found and usually, what he was doing. It was searching through the libraries and the archives, where he spent most of his time, although occasionally, when she was not free, he went on sightseeing trips to the mountains and into some of the historical towns of North Wales. They spoke at least once every day and knowing he was within a few hours driving and at the end of the phone helped Rosemary to relax once again. Every weekend he spent with her, only working at his research while she was occupied too.
One Thursday, he asked what she had planned to show him at the weekend.
‘I’m in Cardiff now,’ he told her, ‘but I’ll be finished here soon and for the next week I’ll be at Aberystwyth, close enough to come home to you every evening.’
She couldn’t hide the excitement the words caused and didn’t even try.
‘Darling, I can’t wait. I’ll make us a picnic for Saturday,’ she said. ‘It’s very windy here but so far it’s dry. Saturday is my day off and I’d like to show you Aberangell mountain.’
‘“Aber” means mouth, so it’s the mouth of the River Angell, right?’ he asked.
‘Named for an angel,’ she explained. ‘The river was thought to be so beautiful it was named River of Angels. At least, that’s what some of the locals believe!’
‘And I’ll see it with my own angel. Perfect,’ he breathed.
When she woke the following morning she found two pints of milk had been left for her. She frowned. She always used a pint each day, drinking any that was still left after she had finished breakfast. Only when Larry or someone else stayed did she order extra. Who had forestalled her and placed the order?
‘There was a note,’ the milkman told her later. ‘Just a block-printed note asking for extra. All right was it? I mean, you did want it?’
‘Quite all right, and thank you,’ Rosemary said.
‘Don’t look for mysteries where there are none, darling,’ Larry warned when he telephoned her for an end-of-week chat and was told of the new event. ‘I expect the previous note was still there and was blown about in this wind. Stranger things have happened.’
‘But so many things are happening. Can someone still be listening to my conversations?’
‘The British Telecom engineers found the box and everything has been dismantled. The police and the engineers will be keeping a look out to make sure it doesn’t happen again.’
‘Of course, but too many coincidences are hard to accept,’ she said doubtfully.
The wind was strong, and increasing in force, an empty dustbin placed outside number five for the men to empty and which had not been recovered, was sent bowling along the grass near the stream.
Attracted by the noise, Rosemary looked out of her window and laughed to see Huw Rees chasing it and capturing it just before it fell into the fluttering surface of the wind-whipped water. She waved as he looked in her direction, to share the amusement with him.
Larry arrived when the vegetable lasagne she was cooking was sending out tempting aromas. He sniffed appreciatingly as he went straight through to the kitchen to make his habitual cup of coffee. He drank it thirstily then prepared the salad. They ate companionably, sharing news of the hours they had been apart.
She told him about the parcel coming for Gethyn and his inviting her in to see the glorious mess he was in sorting out his mother’s papers. He told her of his latest discoveries, including the information that beside being farmers, a branch of his family had once been fishermen.
‘Seems I’m not going to discover an exciting link with your Prime Minister or find myself a dukedom!’ he joked. He spread out his family tree and proudly pointed out the gaps he had now filled, albeit some in pencil and bearing question marks!
The time she spent with him was both exciting and tranquil, Rosemary decided, as she watched him prepare their after dinner coffee. Tranquil, because she never had to stop and consider what she would say, being able to be completely open with him. Exciting, because the way he looked at her, admiration and love blazoning out of his brown eyes, made her feel like a beautiful woman.
Sensuality was not something she had ever considered, but knowing he loved and admired her gave her an extra perception of her femininity. He had increased her awareness of herself as a woman. Since they had become lovers, there was an added sway to her walk and more provocative nuance in her smile. But for him only. When she was with anyone else, the difference in her would have been hardly detected. Loving was giving, and to Larry she gave unreservedly.
The wind increased in force and howled around the cottage like a crazed thing trying to come in. The trees that grew on the far side of the stream groaned and creaked as the wind pushed the branches against one another in a weird symphony.
‘Shall we go to the local pub for a drink?’ he suggested. ‘Those trees sound as if they might fall and I don’t think it’s wise to travel far, but the pub is only a mile along the main road.’
‘I agree about the trees, they look precarious, don’t they? In fact, it might be an idea to move the cars.’
Larry went to the front room and looked out of the window into the stormy evening. Although it was hardly autumn, leaves were gliding down from the trees like giant confetti. Rising and dropping as they were caught and released by the gusts, settling on the banks to roll like hoops or alight on the stream to be hurried along its surface, until finally disappearing under the footbridge. One birch tree was leaning badly, but he decided that if any should fall, none were likely to hit the cars.
The storm continued to increase in severity and as they walked home, they were blown about by the sudden gusts of wind as if some playful giant were taking a deep breath and blowing at them, using them for a game of skittles. As they walked along a dark, narrow section of the road, the creaking and groaning of the trees increased. Something in the wild sounds chilled her and she pulled back, afraid, but without knowing why, an atavistic fear leadening her limbs.
‘Come on, Rose Mary, let’s get home before one of these trees decides to give up the struggle and – Jesus!’
The rest of his words were drowned by the rushing sound of a tree falling, to rest on the hedges that edged the road. They staggered back in time to avoid the main trunk of the slender ash tree but a snapped branch caught Larry a glancing blow on the shoulder and he fell.
‘Larry!’ Rosemary screamed. The tree wasn’t a large one but it blocked all sight of him from her. She felt under the leaves, frantically calling his name. ‘Larry? Larry, darling? Are you all right?’
‘Shit!’ she heard through the wailing of the wind and the cracking of the settling branches. ‘Walking on these Goddamned roads is more hairy than jaywalking on Fifth Avenue!’
She smiled. He was clearly unharmed!
A car approached and stopped before hitting the fallen tree and it seemed no time before the police and the fire brigade had arrived and arrangements begun for the removal of the tree.
They hastened home when it was clear Larry was no more than slightly bruised. They laughed and made a joke of their adventure, hand in hand, running and shouting like children; calling up the wind, defying its fury. Larry went straight into the kitchen to make coffee as he always did, and soon after they went to bed.
They relaxed into sleep, with the wind lashing furiously at the house as if seeking entry. Branches were tap-dancing on the roof. Squally showers were beating a tattoo against the window panes. Then, at two o’clock, the wind suddenly rushed through the house. A door banged back against its hinges and the door to the loft fell down against the wall with a deafening bang.
They both sat up in bed and Rosemary clung to Larry.
‘What is it? Oh, Larry! Thank goodness you’re here.’
Larry reached over and switched on the bedside lamp but it didn’t work. He climbed out of bed, the sound of the wind filling the room with a ululating drone. He tried the wall switch unsuccessfully, then the landing, the second bedroom and the bathroom. All the lights in the house had failed.
‘It must be a power line brought down,’ he said, feeling for his clothes. ‘Stay there, I’ll just find my pants and go down to see what caused the crash though, there must be a window open.’
‘I checked them all.’ Rosemary shivered as she pulled her dressing gown on. ‘And what’s more, darling, I’m not staying here without you. If you’re going anywhere, I’m coming too!’
The banging led them through the house to the kitchen and to their alarm they saw that the back door was open and banging again and again against the wall.
‘But, it’s impossible,’ Larry said stupidly. ‘I made sure the door was locked and everything secure before we went upstairs.’
He took her hand and led her to the front door after relocking the back. The door was locked but the bolt was not thrust home.
‘I didn’t think it was necessary, not with me being here,’ he said. ‘But anyway, it’s the back door that’s been opened and that was locked and bolted, you saw me do it.’
‘The house sounded angry,’ Rosemary said quietly as they went back to the living room. ‘I know it sounds fanciful, Larry, but d’you think the place can have a ghost?’
‘Hey, come on!’ He held her against him, her body trembling with cold and shock. ‘No, I do not!’
‘But what’s happening? I’ve lived here without incident for years, and now, since—’ She tried to remember the date when she first became aware she was being overheard, but Larry misunderstood her hesitation.
‘Since I came into your life, is that what you’re thinking?’
‘Larry, of course not!’ She stared at him in consternation. ‘I was trying to remember the date when I first thought someone was listening! Before the police found the linetapping equipment. It seems to have gone on for so long. Larry, how could I think it was you!’ She hugged him, shivering intensely, cold with the thought that he believed her capable of suspecting him of causing all the furore. ‘Not you, darling. Anyone else, but not you.’
She left him to make coffee and when she returned, he was sitting on the settee, a solemn expression on his handsome face.
‘Darling, it’s only your support that’s kept me on an even keel during these weeks,’ she said. She knelt beside him pleading with him to believe her. ‘I don’t believe for one moment that all this is anything to do with you. Believe me, please, Larry. If you abandon me, then I’ll never, ever, stay in this house again. Solving mysteries might be satisfying, but for me, all I want is to have you beside me. The puzzle solving I can happily leave to others.’
‘I’m sorry, Rosemary. I shouldn’t upset you more. It’s just that I love you and need you so much, I can’t bear the thought that you don’t feel the same.’
‘Darling Larry, I do,’ she whispered as he took her once again into his arms. ‘Whatever you’re involved in, I’m involved too.’ She was prepared to wait until he was ready to tell her the secret he was keeping from her. She wouldn’t ask again.
Dawn came, and the storm died with the darkness. The sky showed sun-edged clouds when Rosemary opened the curtains a little to help her wake. She returned to the settee where Larry’s concerned eyes were open and watching her. She knelt beside him and kissed him.
The sun came into the room and shone dazzlingly on something in the room. It puzzled Rosemary in a halfhearted, sleep-dulled way. She looked at the reflected light as her mind uncurled slowly from sleep, wondering what it could be. Daylight strengthened and she recognised the objects with a shout of disbelief.
On a chair near the fire where the early sun touched them, were light bulbs. By the size of the pile they made, every single light bulb from the house was there. Someone had come in while they were sleeping and taken each one out of its socket and piled them there to let them know they had been visited.