Katherine remembered the other statement Mardie Dawes had made about him. ‘Touch of madness. Dangerous.’ Had the dead blackmailer been correct?
Her heart fluttered in panic. Ominous fear pricked its way into her guts. ‘Like you said, Marcus, I think you had better go.’
He stood with his feet planted apart, gradually unlocking the white fists he had made. ‘But I thought you wanted me to stay, Katherine. I was only using foul language to get us in the right mood. Let’s go upstairs. I’ll give you the best time you’ve ever had.’
She was torn, whether to insist he go or to take advantage of his change of mood. He didn’t look angry now. In fact, his eyes were sad and haunting. Katherine liked to control men and this man appeared to have something of a lost boy about him. Mardie Dawes hadn’t mentioned this aspect of his character. She had probably been mistaken or lying about him being mad.
‘Follow me,’ she commanded.
As each high-heeled foot left a stair, his took its place behind her. Katherine felt his hot breath on her back and shivered deliciously. Once at the top, he gripped her wrist and spun her round to him.
‘Want to play rough here, do you?’ She was bringing her arms up to clamp round his neck with the intention of roughly kissing his mouth, but he caught her other wrist in his hand.
‘You shouldn’t behave like a slut. You’re a mother. You’re Joanna’s mother! And you treat her like she’s filth. If you were good and kind and decent you would see her as she really is. Gentle and lovely and feminine. You’ve made her suffer in the past and want to do so again, but I won’t let you. Never again!’
Katherine was engulfed by stark naked terror. This time his eyes blazed so brightly they looked as if they’d been blasted into his skull.
A scream built up inside Katherine’s throat but had no time to reach her lips. He thrust her violently down the stairs.
Bump, bump, bump, she went down over each step. Ending up at the bottom in a sprawled heap, face down on the sheepskin rug.
Marcus went to the bathroom and carefully washed his hands, to get the taint of this woman off him. Walking down the stairs, he stepped over the still body and outside into the clear hot air.
He set off along the road, head up, taking long strides. He saw the birds in the air, cattle and sheep in the fields. After a while it seemed he was the only human in the world. He felt peaceful.
Then this was gradually overtaken by an alien energy, which did not fill him with hardiness but was draining him. There was no breeze to cool his burning skin and suddenly he was sweating feverishly and panting like an old dog. The verges were awash with the pungent smell of cow parsley, campion and wild herbs. It made him cough and fight to breathe.
When he reached his motorcar he fell into the driver’s seat. Saw the sandwich tin on the next seat. Why had he come here? Presumably for a picnic. He couldn’t remember leaving the schoolhouse. He put his hands on the steering wheel. Why were they shaking? Where the hell was he? His head ached, waves of agony searing into his skull. Resting his head in his hands he closed his eyes.
He must have fallen asleep. When he next looked through the windscreen dusk was stealing over the landscape. Moments later, he was terrified. He had forgotten who he was.
Chapter Forty-Three
‘Joanna! Joanna! Wake up, please.’
The desperate cries and sounds of something hitting her bedroom window woke Jo in the middle of the night. Unnerved, she crept out of bed and peeped out of the window.
There was a tall shadowy figure standing on the front lawn, silhouetted by the moonlight, about to throw another missile at the window.
‘Luke, is that you?’ she called out warily. But she knew the figure wasn’t Luke and she felt vulnerable for the first time since living in isolation.
‘Joanna, come outside.’ The figure dropped to his knees. ‘I need you.’
‘Marcus! Wait there, I’ll come down to you.’ He was evidently in the throes of another anxiety attack. Beth had arrived in the late evening, worried by his long absence. What had he been doing all this time? Lighting the lantern, slipping into her dressing gown and slippers, Jo rushed downstairs and unlocked the front door.
She hurried to Marcus. He was slumped forward on the lawn, face in his hands. ‘What is it, Marcus? Where have you been? Are you ill?’
‘Yes – I mean I don’t know,’ he whimpered, looking up slowly, beseeching with outstretched arms for her to come to him.
Putting the lantern down on the grass, Jo knelt in front of him, bringing his head to rest against her shoulder. He clung to her. ‘I went out. I can’t remember why or what happened. Or how long I’d been away. I came across the motorcar. And then I couldn’t remember who I was. I was scared out of my mind. Somehow I drove back here, stopped at the foot of the lane. I had to come to you, Joanna. Please help me. I fear I’m falling into a deep bottomless pit.’
‘You’re safe now, Marcus. I’ll take care of you, I promise. You’re cold, shivering. Come inside. I’ll get you some brandy.’
‘No, please, I’d rather stay here. Don’t let me go, Joanna. Don’t let me fall.’
‘I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, Marcus. You can trust me. We’ll stay here and talk if that’s what you want.’
‘I want…’ His voice was like a small abandoned child’s. ‘I want you to love me.’
‘I do love you, Marcus. I love you as a close friend. I won’t let you down. Relax, breathe slowly. I’ll stay with you.’ She stroked his hair, rubbed his shoulders. His shirt was wet with perspiration and his skin underneath was chilled.
He was silent for a while, then his next words came wretchedly. ‘Am I going mad?’
‘No, of course not, but you’re close to a breakdown. Marcus, tomorrow I want you to see the doctor. Will you do that?’
‘He can’t wash away my shame and degradation.’
‘You’ve got nothing to be ashamed about. You were devoted to Eleanor. You did everything for her that a son could possibly do.’
‘She did things to me that a mother should never have done.’ He sobbed into the bodice of Jo’s nightdress, gripping her so firmly she felt her breath would soon be cut off. ‘She… she made me do things to her. She used me. Hurt me. Made me an animal. Turned me into filth. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you realise now what I’ve become?’
In horror, she saw clearly the terrible hold Eleanor had had over her son. Every odd thing Jo had witnessed in their relationship fell into place. It was why Marcus was a shadow of the man he should be, but despite his terrible secret, he was good and thoughtful. She was overwhelmed with compassion for him.
Swallowing the painful lump rising in her throat, Jo gently used her fingers to wipe away his tears. ‘Oh, Marcus, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were going through something so horrendous.’
‘I wanted to kill her, Joanna. I made plan after plan but I never had the courage to go through with them.’ He wept in torment. ‘She knew and she taunted me. The one time I came close to getting rid of her it all went wrong. I had nothing to live for. The night she died I was going to take my own life, but she stopped me. She was going to defile me again and I pushed her away and she fell to the floor and died.’
He gave a peculiar laugh and shook with a dreadful passion in Jo’s arms. ‘I wish I’d crushed her to death with my bare hands. She should have suffered more at the end.’
‘Don’t say any more, Marcus. Just keep telling yourself that it’s over now. You’re in a bad state because you’ve been keeping it all locked up inside you for too long. Don’t punish yourself like this.’
He groaned suddenly, as if not hearing her words of hope and encouragement. ‘Don’t hate me, Joanna, now I’ve told you the truth. Don’t despise me for my weakness. I couldn’t bear that.’
‘I don’t think any less of you, Marcus. It wasn’t your fault. Eleanor was an overpowering woman. Now you must take the long rest you deserve, look towards the future. I’ll he
lp you in any way I can.’
His body crumpled, his face sliding down on to Jo’s breast, taking her dressing gown and nightdress off her shoulder and bringing his skin into contact with hers. ‘I love you, Joanna,’ he murmured. ‘I wish you loved me as more than a friend. It’s my biggest regret.’
Oh, no, Jo whispered to herself. If he meant, or believed he meant, his declarations of love, it would exacerbate the situation. Her posture was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and Marcus was getting heavier, dragging her down. Soon she would be in a lot of pain. And he was burying his lips into her breast. She feared he would desire comfort in a way she was unwilling to give.
‘We can’t stay out here all night, Marcus.’
He tugged her closer to him and she bit her lip to forestall a cry from the agony shooting up her spine. ‘No.’ His voice was muffled against her flesh. ‘I won’t be able to breathe if we go inside. We must stay here.’
Jo could no longer bear the pain she was in. She tried to ease him away from her. ‘I have to get up, Marcus. My back’s hurting.’
She could not shift him and he clung to her with more intensity. ‘Marcus, please, you’re beginning to hurt me.’
No response. She was forced to wrest his hands away from her and push on him with all her strength.
Marcus staggered and fell on the dew-laden ground. He howled like a wounded animal. The lantern tipped over, the flame puttered out.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jo said quickly. ‘I just had to move.’
Stunned, sitting up, shaking his head to clear his bewilderment, he rubbed his raw elbow. ‘You hurt me,’ he wailed like a petulant child.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jo repeated, rising to her feet. ‘Marcus, I can’t deal with this out here. I’m getting cold. Please let me get dressed and I’ll walk to the schoolhouse with you.’
He got to his feet, lurching as if drunk. Her body was outlined by the moonlight. Small, delicate, womanly. She was trembling, breathing heavily. Then she wasn’t the woman he loved any more. She was looming in the darkness. Menacing. Procuring a situation to humiliate him. ‘Don’t tell me what to do!’
Jo leapt at his sudden fury. ‘I didn’t mean to sound bossy, Marcus. Please listen to me.’
‘No! I won’t. You women always want to do things to me. All of you. Even you. Just like she did this afternoon.’
‘Who are you talking about, Marcus?’ Jo tried to keep the alarm out of her voice. Instinct made her walk backwards. ‘Where did you go today?’
‘She lied to get me to go to her house. Told me she was worried about you. But she only wanted to have me in bed. She wanted to hurt me. Make me feel ashamed. The evil bitch.’
‘Who?’ Jo shouted to break through his crazed ramblings. ‘You’re not making any sense.’
‘Your mother!’ He swore profanely. Then he was coming after Jo.
Somehow she made her feet move faster. He was growing increasingly deranged and she was very frightened. She had to get into the house and slam and bolt the door on him.
‘Marcus, calm yourself. I’m your friend, remember. I want to help you, not abuse you. A minute ago you said you loved me. Did you mean it?’
He hesitated. ‘I… I…’
She was on the path running alongside the flower borders. The front door was just feet away. She took another step backwards but her foot landed awkwardly and she was falling, hitting the ground.
Marcus was there, standing over her. Jo was sitting, leaning back on her hands, her chest heaving. She couldn’t make out his features in the darkness but could see the outline of his head, turning from side to side as if perplexed. Then she knew what she must do. It was when he felt threatened he became demented.
It was not difficult to cry like a child, hurt and afraid. ‘Help me, Marcus.’
He crouched beside her and she felt his harsh breath on her face. ‘Joanna? What happened? Oh, God, I’ve hurt you, my only friend. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Oh, God. Oh, God…’ Then he backed away from her, scrambled to his feet and hurtled off into the night.
Jo got up, ran inside and secured the house, listening anxiously in case he came back. She had been very scared but did not blame Marcus for his actions. His mental breakdown wasn’t his fault. The blame lay wholly with his cruel, wicked mother. She felt such a strength of sorrow for him, and then for Luke and herself. The three of them had one thing in common; all their troubles originated from their mothers.
Time passed. Where was Marcus now? The moors and cliffs held many perils for an unbalanced man. He needed help. She got dressed. When fragments of dawn began to breach the darkness she hurried to the village.
Chapter Forty-Four
Not a whisper of wind stirred the long grasses or sighed against the stones on top of Carn Galver. The minerals in the rocks, scoured and burnished by the sun, glinted like tiny stars. Insects, too flimsy to flit in the warm air high above the roughland, cradled in the yellow petals of tormentil or on grey-green foliage. Luke flamed the last of a cigarette, let the breath out slowly then rubbed the stub out between thumb and forefinger, putting it into his shirt pocket. He could never spoil the grace and beauty of the carn.
He was sitting on the sheltered spot where Jo had sketched him on that wintry day, where he had first kissed her, where they had first made love. In the fragrant openness, in the quiet, he let his mind drift over his beautiful memories of her. Those searching, caring, lovely green-flecked eyes. The delicacy of her soft skin. Her unique tender femininity. She was perfection. His soulmate.
Another lasting impression of her nudged aside these pleasant ramblings to haunt him. Her look of hurt and dreadful sadness at losing Marylyn and Rex, when he had so readily agreed to Maud’s offer to adopt them. He’d argued it was for the best, Rex wanted to go anyway, and now Jo could continue to teach, not give up her cherished career. He’d tried to make it sound noble. They’d still get married, any time they liked, they just didn’t have to rush through with it now.
Jo’s face had also shown the humiliation of a jilted woman, despising his weakness, his selfishness. Could she ever trust him now? Forgive him? Was she bitter? No, not bitter. Jo was the one with loyalty and honour and strength. She cared about others, like poor deranged Marcus Lidgey, now incarcerated in an institution. He’d heard the schoolmaster had been found by Beth on the cliff edge near the mine ruins, his face glazed over, his mind completely shut off from reality. She had been able to take his hand and lead him back to the schoolhouse, apparently the only one he responded to now.
Slowly, as if surfacing from the depths of the ocean, Luke came back to the reason why he was here, to think over how he could ask Jo to forgive him. And then how to say goodbye to her, before allowing her to get on with her life. He’d go far away where he could never hurt her again.
A small shadow blocked out the sun. He glanced up and there was Jo. Hands in her cord trouser pockets, she was gazing down on him solemnly.
‘Don’t get up, Luke. I’ll join you.’ She sat down close to him, but at an angle where she could see his face.
Her hands rested either side of her on the ground. He took the one nearest him in a warm clasp. ‘This is the best place for us to talk, Jo. Think you should go first.’ He closed his eyes a moment, as if steeling himself.
Jo had been watching him for some time. For the past few days she’d gone over every aspect of their relationship. Her anger at his eagerness for the solution that Maud take the children had faded, and then the hurt, and gradually everything else that was sad or wrong had seemed unimportant, especially in the light of tragic Marcus’s misery. She’d stood outside her house, remembering the time she’d first seen Luke, her immediate attraction to him; how light-humoured he had been then.
She’d climbed the carn today to relive the precious moments spent with him here, and when she’d seen him, so alone, thoughtful, downcast, vulnerable, she’d longed to run to him, comfort him, plead with him never to leave her again for she loved him so much. But she knew him throug
h and through; she must not take the initiative again, the superior position, or their love, their future, would be lost. Luke must be allowed to regain his pride. He needed to feel strong, needed her to see him as strong if their relationship was to work.
She pressed back on the grip of his fingers. ‘I know you can imagine how I’ve been feeling, Luke. All the lonely days and nights, the regrets and recriminations. But I promise you my grief is gone and only my love for you is left.’
He sighed from the bottom of his soul. ‘I don’t deserve your love, Jo. Never have, never will. I must leave and let you get on with your life, get on with your teaching, build your school. I’m sorry you ever got involved with me. You came to Parmarth to be with Celia but her death ruined that for you. You inherited her house, planned to live there as my wife, the kids’ mother, and I ruined that for you. Didn’t even give a chance to see if it would work out for us and Rex and Marylyn. I’ve come between you and Mercy Merrick and your brother. Because of me you can hardly show your face in the village or enjoy Cardhu, Celia’s gift to you. People were right, I’ve ruined everything for you. Please believe me, I love you more than anything and always will. I never meant to hurt you but I should’ve walked away. We must say goodbye, Jo. You must start all over again without me. You do see that?’
‘I love you for thinking this way, Luke, it shows how much you care, how unselfish you really are. Now tell me if you still want me. Don’t say what you think to be the best for me, tell me the truth.’
‘Yes, Jo, of course I still want you.’ His eyes had never looked so deep, so despairing. ‘Nothing will ever change that.’
‘Well, I still want you. I love you and I need you. Things aren’t as bad for me as you think. Mercy and the villagers got together and have asked me to stay, and the school board have asked me to reconsider my resignation for the sake of the children; the school doesn’t want to lose two teachers in such tragic circumstances. I’m staying on, Luke. To try to right my mistakes and the damage and confusion recent events have left here. I’m not running away and I don’t believe you should either. I’ve always believed you are a good man and I want you to prove it to yourself and the people of Parmarth. To Rex and Marylyn. Of course the best thing for them was to go to Maud; she’s family, and they will have more in common with her than with either of us.
Listening to the Quiet Page 34
