Elvira put down the phone and smiled at Toby. It was not reassuring. ‘There seems to be a problem, Mr Lynch. The family were not only unprepared for Kate to be brought home, or moved to a new hospital, they were quite unaware you had even come to collect her. Now why do you think that is?’
Toby’s mind was in turmoil. What to say to alleviate Elvira Crombie’s suspicions? It came to him then that she might not actually have given orders for Kate to be got ready at all. For all he knew she could have given instructions for the exact opposite. What was it that the secretary had said? All is prepared, ma’am. Not the patient has been prepared, or more simply - Kate is ready. Why hadn’t he paid more attention to that? He’d been duped. Elvira Crombie had his money in her greedy palm, and still no Kate.
Nevertheless he felt he must continue with this charade. What choice did he have? What did a few lies matter if it meant getting Kate out of this hell-hole? ‘I don’t know who you spoke to just now, but of course they were perfectly well aware that I was coming here. Didn’t Mrs Tyson herself instruct me, and haven’t I handed over to you already, in good faith, the compensation she felt due to you in lieu of anticipated fees? She will be furious if her wishes are flouted.’
He recognised the doubt creeping into the woman’s eyes. She clearly had no wish to give up the money, but she’d lose more through Kate’s removal. ‘Her aunt most certainly knew nothing at all of any plan to have Kate moved.’
‘Did you speak to Lucy?’ Toby held his breath. If Elvira had spoken directly to her, then all was lost.
‘Mrs Tyson herself was not available.’
‘There you are. Didn’t I say that she was ill?’
Elvira stiffened her spine, her gaze hard and unyielding. ‘Nonetheless, whether she is ill or not, it was clear from my conversation with the aunt that no doctor, nor other family member, was aware you are even here. No other place has been secured for Kate. None at all. I believe this to be a fiction, a trick of your own devising. For all I know, you may be her lover trying to spirit her away, or a kidnapper who will demand a ransom for the poor woman’s safe return. How do I know who you are? I have absolutely no proof of your identity, nor your good will.’
He was angry now, a huge wave of fury and frustration washing over him, and with it a sense of futility and humiliation. To come so near, and yet to fail. It was too much. Toby ached to protect Kate, had loved her from the very first moment he’d set eyes on her, yet had kept his distance.
When he’d first known her she’d been a woman alone with a child, grieving for another who was lost to her. He’d never transgressed beyond the proper boundary between employer and employee. Later, he’d respected the fact that Kate loved another man, was now happily married to him, and even after Eliot’s untimely death had remained respectful, careful not to overstep the mark. Yet surely he could at least be her friend. She was certainly in dire need of one.
‘Where is she? Where’s Kate? Has she been got ready for the journey? I insist you bring her to me at once, or you’ll answer for the consequences.’
Elvira made no move to obey. She simply stood smiling slyly at him, eyes glacial, not at all the kind of smile to fill him with confidence that she would do as he asked. Then she put her hands together and began to clap, very slowly, chains and bracelets jangling and clanking in an ugly sound.
‘Very good. An excellent performance, if I might say so. You should be in the theatre. Your talents are wasted as a factory manager, if that is indeed what you are. More likely a con-man. Sadly, I spend my life seeing through such performances put on by clever patients, their agile, twisted little minds devising all manner of schemes to get past me. But I am not so easily fooled. Kate is going nowhere. She is not leaving this building unless her sister-in-law, or some other appropriate family member, personally comes to escort her out of it. And you are not that person.’
‘Indeed I am. She isn’t staying here another minute.’ Toby pushed past her, flung himself through the door and within seconds was striding up the corridor. ‘Kate!’ he cried, and again in a louder voice. ‘Kate, where are you? Kate!’
Elvira came charging after him, screaming at the top of her voice, the pounding of her heavy tread loud in his ears as she shouted for help from her nurses. ‘Leave the building at once, Mr Lynch, or I shall be forced to have you escorted from it.’
‘You are welcome to try.’ He ignored her and began flinging open doors.
‘Don’t you dare go in there!’ She shook a ham-sized fist at him, bracelets rattling with fury as she galloped towards him, attempting to fling herself across one door to prevent him from opening it, just a second too late.
It was a bathroom full of miserable, naked creatures being scrubbed and evidently half-frozen to death judging by the chill that emanated from the room. Toby flung open another door, the power of the blistering heat that met him almost knocking him sideways. He saw a fretful woman encased in blankets, her wild eyes begging him to help her.
‘What the …? Have I stumbled into hell? Kate?’ But it was not Kate and he left the poor woman to her agony. He couldn’t save everyone.
Elvira made a grab for Toby, clawing at him, frantically trying to drag him away, nurses homing in from all directions to prevent his intrusion, pushing and shoving at him to make him give up and leave.
But nothing would stop him now. Toby cast them all aside, fought them off with a strength that surprised himself, let alone them. He flung open another door and some instinct told him at once that he’d found her. Perhaps it was the colour of the near-shorn head of the woman who lay unmoving on something like a hospital trolley. She was as waxy pale as the white sheet that shrouded her and for one terrible instant he thought he was too late, that she was dead. But then she turned anguished eyes to his and he knew that he was right.
‘Kate?’
Cracked lips barely parted in greeting. ‘Oh, Toby,’ she breathed. ‘You’ve come for me at last. I knew you would.’
He went to her and as Kate tried to get up, gently prevented her from moving too quickly, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. ‘Kate, Kate, I ...’ His voice broke on a tide of emotion and Toby could say no more, not able to believe what he saw.
Yet she was smiling up at him, weak and fragile though she undoubtedly was, her face gaunt, cheeks hollow, grey eyes no longer filled with the storm of a Lakeland sky or blazing with passion for life but dazed with shock and fear; great dark caverns of agony.
Toby could find no words. The sight of her shocked him to the core and all he could do was to gather her in his arms, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder as she clung to him, and he whispered her name over and over.
They tried to stop him but he brushed them aside like flies. With only the single sheet to cover her nakedness and protect her from the bitter cold, Toby carried Kate from the castle. Elvira and her evil helpmates chased after him, screaming abuse. He settled her gently in the back of the car, still swathed in the sheet, climbed into the driving seat and drove swiftly away while patients stood in the yard and cheered.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kate could not believe her good fortune. It seemed like a dream, a blissful, magical, wonderful dream. Here she was, in a Scottish hotel, her children beside her, and Toby too, grinning in that lovely, cheery way of his. Every now and then he would rub a hand through his tousled fair hair, saying things like: ‘That was a close shave’, and ‘I can’t believe I just did that’. His daring behaviour had been so at odds with his more usual, quiet style, that Kate found herself marvelling with him.
‘Did you see Elvira’s face as you marched out of the door?’
‘And everyone cheering? It was tremendous.’
‘Oh, I wish I’d seen my friend Peggy. I never got the chance to say goodbye.’
‘If she’s a friend, she’ll just be glad you got out.’
Kate fell silent, wishing there was some way she could help her friend to escape too, but there was none. The magistrates wou
ld decide poor Peggy’s fate.
She could hear the wind in the trees outside the window, smell the fragrances of pine logs, hot chicken soup and shampoo. Kate felt certain these sounds and scents would forever signify freedom to her.
Flora had tenderly bathed her in hot, soapy water in a beautifully appointed bathroom, dressed her sores and blisters with arnica ointment, ordered a supper of tasty chicken broth which she was now urging her mother to eat beside a lovely, blazing fire. If before Kate had been in hell, this must surely be heaven, with all the people she loved and needed around her.
‘You lied,’ she said, smiling across at Toby. He was sitting watching her eat fresh, crusty bread, as if he’d never seen anyone do such a thing before. ‘Not only that, you forged Lucy’s handwriting.’
‘If I hadn’t, you’d still be there, locked up in that awful place.’
Kate gave a quiet sigh of resignation. ‘I doubt I’d’ve been there for much longer.’
‘You knew that Lucy intended to move you?’
Kate frowned, shaking her head slightly. ‘I mean, I wouldn’t have survived. You saved me from almost certain death, or else the onset of true madness.’
‘I’m sure he did,’ Callum agreed. ‘I only wish we’d managed it sooner. We couldn’t find where she’d taken you.’
‘Didn’t you get my letters?’
Blank looks from them all, a shake of the head from Callum, more tears from Flora. ‘I missed you so much, Mammy! No one would tell me where you were or when you were coming home. I thought you might be dead.’
’Aw, don’t cry, me darlin’. Of course I’m not dead. Mammy’s here now, safe and sound, and nothing terrible is ever going to happen to me again. Everything’s going to be fine.’
Once the soup and buttery bread had been eaten, and Flora had finally succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep in her mother’s arms, Toby and Callum revealed the full story of how they’d discovered Kate’s whereabouts. Kate responded by telling them a little about her ordeal. The two men grew angry as she related her experiences, and she strove to reassure them.
‘No, don’t blame them too much. Some of the nurses weren’t so bad. One, an Irish nurse, actually saved me from a beating one day. And I think many genuinely believed that what they were doing would have some beneficial effect. Maybe it does, in some cases. Who am I to judge?’
‘But there was nothing wrong with you,’ Callum insisted.
Toby nodded. ‘Lucy was the one who lied, who trapped you into going to that dreadful place. She lied to Callum and to Flora, to all of us, insisting you’d tried to kill yourself.’
‘I guessed as much.’
‘What are we to do about her?’
‘Aye,’ agreed Callum. ‘That’s the most important question. What the hell do we do about Madam Lucy?’
‘Nothing.’
‘What?’ The two men spoke as one.
‘There’s nothing we can do. Once before we tried going to the police and she made me out to be an hysterical idiot, out of my mind with grief. If I now accuse her of trying to lock me away, she’ll only say it was for my own good, that she felt that I needed care and shelter, or some such tale. She can prove that I was indeed suffering from depression, although I was in fact coming out of it, starting to feel better and much more myself. When she asked me to join her for a weekend’s jaunt, wasn’t I looking forward to dressing up and having a good time? I even bought myself a new frock. But how can I prove any of that?’
Toby managed an ironic smile. ‘She’s a clever, manipulative woman, that’s for sure.’
‘So how can we refute her argument that she meant it only for the best? The fact that the castle turned out to be little better than a torture chamber, she’ll claim to be no fault of hers, only the methods by which they treat the mentally ill.’
‘I can’t bear her to get away with it,’ Toby growled, while Callum sank into his own gloomy thoughts.
Kate managed an ironic smile. ‘She always does.’
Kate thought she might have trouble sleeping, but fell into a deep sleep almost the moment she lay down beside Flora. It wasn’t a particularly restful night but one filled with confused dreams of Toby and Peggy, of being trapped in a room, something pressing down on her, preventing her from getting out; of heat and cold and overwhelming fear, which brought her to a shuddering, sweating wakefulness some time around dawn.
How long would it be before she recovered from her ordeal? A lifetime perhaps.
And did she even wish to return to Tyson Lodge? Kate rather thought not. Toby was absolutely right, Lucy shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. But the prospect of confronting her with what she’d done made Kate feel sick to her stomach. It was too soon to be making decisions but a part of her longed simply to up-sticks and leave, to go somewhere completely fresh and start again. She could take her share of the business, leave the house to Lucy, and move out. Find them a place of their own to live in.
Kate stroked her sleeping daughter’s cheek, lay back down beside her, drinking in the beauty of her face, and finally fell into a peaceful sleep. She was safe, and with Flora and Callum again. What else mattered?
Kate was absolutely correct in her assessment of Lucy’s reaction. When they arrived back at Tyson Lodge the next day, her sister-in-law was all sweet concern and heartfelt cries of amazement that Kate should be deemed fit and well enough to be sent home.
‘How secretive and naughty of you, Callum, and you too, Toby, not to tell me what you were about! But of course I’m so pleased that Kate has made such a wonderful recovery. An unbelievable and delightful surprise! Wasn’t I right to send you to such a marvellous place, dear sister-in-law, where you received the best possible care? Was I not, Aunts?’
‘Indeed you were, Lucy dear,’ Aunt Cissie agreed. ‘How very clever of you to discover such a marvellous place.’
‘It was darling Teddy’s idea. A friend of a friend recommended it to him.’
‘Well, they’ve done a good job, and returned our own dear Kate to us as good as new.’ Aunt Vera actually put her arms about Kate and gave her a little hug. Probably the first time she’d ever touched her in all the years they’d lived under the same roof.
‘Almost,’ Kate conceded. ‘Though still a little frail around the edges.’
Vera suddenly seemed to grow aware of how thin she’d become and her smile faded a little, to be replaced by a frown of concern. ‘Dear me, yes, indeed you are.’
‘Don’t look so worried, I’m fine.’ No thanks to Lucy, Kate thought, fixing her with such a fierce gaze that she grew uncomfortable and looked away.
Cissie said, ‘Of course you are, dear. Nothing wrong with you that a few good nights’ sleep won’t soon put right. Once we’ve got some home cooking inside you, and fattened you up, you’ll be quite your old self again, will you not, dear?’
‘I certainly intend to be,’ Kate agreed, her arm about Flora as she again met Lucy’s gaze unblinking.
‘There we are then,’ said Cissie. ‘Clever, clever Lucy.’
Clever she may be, but Lucy seemed far from pleased to have her plans ruined, all her hopes and wishes set aside and her rival back in situ. The atmosphere in the house was rigid with tension, as sharp as the hoar frost now settling on Kendal’s meadows, as cold as the ice forming on the River Kent.
The two women barely exchanged a word, civil or otherwise. Even the aunts lost their will to keep the conversation going and would sit in watchful silence, mealtimes becoming unbearably tense.
Kate told herself not to care. She was free. Not feeling quite herself yet, admittedly, but longing to get back to work and start living again. A few more days peace and rest and she would feel fit enough to face the factory. Only then would she begin to make decisions about her future.
But the good food Cissie had promised her did not come from Mrs Petty’s kitchen, nor feature any of the dishes Kate had dreamed of while in the castle. No steak and kidney pie or Lancashire hot pot, but lamb, cooked
rare in unusual sauces by a smart French chef. Kate was devastated to learn that Mrs Petty and Ida had gone. Somehow, the house didn’t seem the same without them.
She was devastated too over what had been done to her garden: those precious trees that Eliot had planted, intending them for the next generation, for Callum. Now they were gone, all chopped down, their roots ripped from the rich, brown earth to make way for a new tennis court, the latest fad apparently. It was the final straw and Kate put her face in her hands and wept.
‘Why did you do it?’
Lucy tossed her head, pretending not to understand. ‘I don’t see any problem, a tennis court is far more beneficial to the property than a few extra trees, and much more fun.’
‘You had no right to make decisions about my house without my permission!’
‘You weren’t here to ask, and a decision needed to be made. I was already running the house and the factory. Deciding where to put a tennis court was trivial by comparison.’
It was all too much for Kate. At last the tension between them broke and erupted into the most terrible row. They argued about trees, the loss of Callum’s heritage, the danger of tennis balls hitting the summer house, when really it wasn’t about that at all. It went so much deeper.
Lucy’s calm finally slipped and she screamed at Kate, ‘I can do as I please because you are of no account! I am in charge now!’
‘Only because you stole my life away from me. Well, I want it back!’
Lucy turned away on a shrug of dismissal. ‘I did no such thing. You were sick, out of your mind, probably still are. The castle was the best place for you.’
‘You know, although you’ll never admit it, that I wasn’t out of my mind at all. The truth is that you wanted me out of the way, so that you could take over. You planned the whole thing, set me up to go with you on that weekend, knowing exactly where you were taking me and that I wouldn’t be coming back. All those lies, all that trickery.’
The Woman From Heartbreak House Page 18
