Don't Look Back

by Ben Cheetham

  Ella stirred and opened her eyes. “Is that the same bird?”

  “I think so,” chuckled Adam. “Did you enjoy the show little birdie?” He rose and tapped on the glass. The robin fluttered away.

  Ella glanced at her wristwatch. Her eyebrows lifted. “Bloody hell, do you know what time it is?”

  He shrugged. “Half twelve?”

  “It’s quarter to two. We’ve been in this house nearly two hours.”

  “I suppose time flies when you’re having fun. We’d better get a shift on. Mr Mabyn will be wondering what’s happened to us.”

  Adam started towards the door, but paused as Ella said, “Do you notice something about this bedroom? There are no dust sheets.”

  “Maybe Rozen kept this room ready for guests.”

  “It’s also the only bedroom with no mirror.”

  “I think this was Walter’s bedroom.” Adam pointed out a ‘WL’ carved into the bedhead. He thought about Walter’s expression in the photo. “As you said, he didn’t seem to like his reflection very much.”

  Adam caught hold of Ella’s hand and drew her from the room. They checked out the last door. A narrow wooden staircase climbed steeply into gloom beyond it. Adam pressed a switch and a bare bulb flickered into life. The creaking stairs led up to a long corridor lined with unvarnished doors. The first door opened into a small room furnished with an iron-framed single bed. A ceiling mottled with damp sloped down towards a little window recessed in a thick wall.

  “This must have been where the servants slept,” said Ella.

  The neighbouring room contained a mouldy washbasin and toilet. Wasps buzzed around a honeycomb-shaped nest in a corner of the ceiling. Adam quickly closed the door. “That’ll need sorting out.”

  “You’re speaking as if we were already living here.”

  “Because I’ve got a strong feeling that we are going to live here.”

  “Listen, Adam, even if we’re chosen I’m not sure–”

  “I thought we were going to save this conversation for later,” he interrupted, moving on to the next door which opened onto a jumble of dusty furniture.

  “Look at this.” Ella approached an arched door inlaid with ebony and ivory carvings of stars and planets. She traced her fingers over the intricate carvings. “I wonder if this leads to the tower.”

  “Only one way to find out.” Adam turned the handle. “It’s locked.” He took out the bundle of keys and tried them all. “None fit.” He waggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Maybe Rozen keeps someone locked up there. An insane illegitimate child or something.”

  Ella exhaled an unamused breath. “Crack one more joke like that and I’m definitely not living here.”

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  Her irritation faded as rapidly as it had appeared. It was so wonderful to see Adam smiling. She hooked his arm and pulled him onwards. The rest of the rooms contained more of the same –furniture, boxes of crockery, dust, cobwebs. Ella rubbed her nose. “It’s making me want to sneeze. Let’s get out of here.”

  They made their way downstairs and took a last lingering look at the entrance hall, then they strolled around the garden, hand-in-hand. A wooden gate was set into the hedge. Adam tried the keys again and, this time, found one that fitted the lock. A curving green tunnel brought them to a path cut into the cliff top. A vertiginously steep bank of grass, bracken and thorny plants tumbled down to a sheer wall of black rock. Gulls and cormorants sunned themselves on boulders jutting from the dark, deep-looking sea.

  “I don’t think I’d ever tire of looking at this,” said Adam.

  He reluctantly turned his back on the view and they returned to the front gates. Mr Mabyn held his hand out for the keys. “Sorry we took so long,” said Ella as the solicitor locked the gates. “We lost track of time. It’s an amazing house.”

  Mr Mabyn stooped into his car without comment.

  “Can I ask you something about Miss Trehearne?” said Adam as they drove back to Treworder. Mr Mabyn nodded for him to go ahead. “Is she a well woman?”

  “I’m not a doctor, Mr Piper.”

  “I appreciate that, Mr Mabyn, but the thing is...” Adam sought to put his thoughts into the same impersonal language the solicitor used. “We don’t want to take advantage of someone who’s not of sound mind.”

  “Even if I was party to any information concerning Miss Trehearne’s health, I would not be in a position to reveal it to you.” Mr Mabyn paused meaningfully before adding, “What I can say is that I’m duty-bound to serve my clients’ best-interests.”

  The implication of the solicitor’s words seemed clear enough – Rozen knew what she was doing.

  Chapter 7

  The chocolate-box cottages of Treworder trembled in the sun. The intense midday heat hadn’t deterred those gathered outside Boscarne Cottage. If anything, the crowd had grown larger and more boisterous. Mr Mabyn parked up and they returned to the cottage via the back garden. Rozen smiled at them from her armchair. Edgar was snoring on her lap now. “So,” she began expectantly as Adam and Ella seated themselves, “what do you think?”

  “We love it,” said Adam. He turned to Ella. “Don’t we?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t sound convinced, my dear,” said Rozen.

  “I am. It’s just...” Ella sighed. “Well, there was so much to take in. It’s all a bit overwhelming.”

  “The house can have that effect, especially on people like you.”

  “What do you mean, people like us?” asked Adam.

  “People in a heightened emotional state. I must say, the house seems to have agreed with you both. You look different. There’s more colour in your cheeks.”

  A faint heat tingled up Adam’s neck. Was that a suggestive note in Rozen’s voice? Did she know what they’d been up to? He dismissed the thought. How could she possibly know? “I actually feel different,” he admitted. “I don’t mean I’ve had an awakening or anything like that. I just mean I’m excited at the thought of possibly living somewhere so wonderful.”

  Rozen beamed at him. “It sounds like you’ve fallen in love, which is exactly what I was hoping to hear. Fenton House needs someone like you. Someone who’ll–” She broke off. “There I go, getting ahead of myself again. Mother always used to scold me for it, but it’s a habit I’ve never outgrown.” Her bright little eyes moved between Adam and Ella. “What I need now is for you to help me see the choice to be made.”

  “Just tell us how,” Adam said eagerly.

  “What would help most is if you tell me what you saw and heard.”

  “We didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary.”

  “The robin was a bit unusual,” said Ella. She described how the bird had led them along the driveway and reappeared at the bedroom window.

  “It’s not so unusual when you consider that robins were Mother’s favourite birds,” said Rozen. “She did everything she could to encourage them into the garden, and I continued to do so after her death. They often stand on the window ledges waiting to be fed. Did anything else catch your interest?”

  “The church bell. It seemed to strike thirteen times. Did you hear it?”

  “No, my dear. But then I am going deaf in my old age.”

  “A number of things stuck in my mind,” put in Adam. “In particular your mother’s portrait and The Lewarne Room.”

  “Those things tend to stick in the mind of everyone who visits the house. The portrait was completed shortly after Father’s death. No one can look in Mother’s eyes without being touched by her grief. The Lewarne Room has remained unaltered since the house was built. Apart from an occasional bit of dusting, no one goes in there. I never liked the room myself. The paintings always made me uneasy.”

  “They made me feel the same way,” said Ella.

  “One other thing caught my interest,” said Adam. “The locked door in the attic. Where does it lead?”

  “To the observatory tower. No one’s been up there in
my lifetime. You may have heard of the Big Storm of 1920?” As Adam and Ella shook their heads, Rozen continued, “On February 16th of that year an Atlantic storm battered the peninsula with heavy rains and gale force winds. Several people lost their lives. The observatory tower was badly damaged. That was also the day Walter Lewarne took his own life. My grandfather had the tower sealed up.”

  “So is it dangerous? Could it fall down?” asked Ella.

  “Part of it – albeit a small part – did after another violent storm in the winter of ’74. It was a sword of Damocles dangling over our heads until the insurance paid out enough to reinforce the external walls. Unfortunately the money didn’t extend to making the tower safe enough for use.”

  There was a little interval of silence. Rozen looked at Adam and Ella as if waiting for them to say more. Adam suddenly felt as if the house was slipping away from him. His mind raced for something – anything – that might stop it from doing so. “We made love,” he blurted out. Ella threw him a startled look, but he continued in a confessional tone, “The sun shining through the stained glass, the sound of the sea, like Ella said it was all a bit overwhelming. We got carried away. I’m sorry. I know we shouldn’t have, but... Well it happened and if that means we don’t get the house then I suppose it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Rozen’s smile remained fixed in place. “There’s no need to apologise. I’m not experienced in matters of the heart, but I can imagine how your child’s death has affected your relationship. Whatever happened did so because that’s what you needed and it’s what the spirits of the house needed from you.” She turned to the solicitor. “Mr Mabyn would you please show Adam and Ella into the dining room.”

  Adam and Ella followed the solicitor into a dining room crammed with antique furniture. “Please wait here until I return,” he said, closing the door.

  “Do you think I blew it?” Adam whispered to Ella.

  She silently pursed her lips.

  “Don’t be like that, Ella. I had to say something.”

  She looked at him from beneath sloping eyebrows. “Are you really that desperate to live there?”

  “This could be a new start for us. A chance to forget.”

  Ella’s frown deepened. “I don’t want to forget Jacob.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I don’t want to forget him either. But I do want to forget the past nine months.” Adam glanced towards the door at the sound of approaching footsteps. “That was quick. Do you think that’s a good or a bad thing?”

  Ella didn’t reply, as if uncertain what would constitute good or bad. Mr Mabyn poked his long face into the room and beckoned to them. They returned to the living room. Adam noticed that Rozen had applied a fresh coat of shiny red lipstick. He noticed too that the teapot and cake were gone. In their place was a slim document. Rozen pointed to it. “That’s the contract. All it needs is your signature, Adam.”

  His heart leaped so high it almost cut off his breath. “You mean Fenton House is ours?”

  “If you want it.”

  A half-choked laugh of delight escaped him. “Of course we want it. Just give me a pen and tell me where to sign.”

  “I think we should read the contract through first,” cautioned Ella, wearing a sort of stunned smile.

  “Ella’s right,” agreed Rozen. “Take it away with you. Read it carefully and think it over for a few days.”

  “I don’t need–” Adam started to say, but fell silent at the look in Ella’s eyes.

  She levelled a searching gaze at Rozen. “Can I ask why us?”

  “It’s difficult to say exactly. Certain things you saw and heard. But most of all because it’s clear to me that your family and the house would be a perfect fit.”

  Rozen held out her hand to Adam. He took it and she sandwiched his fingers between hers. “I apologise in advance for taking a liberty, Adam, but I want to ask you for something. May I kiss you?”

  “I... err... yes.” Adam bent towards Rozen. He somewhat awkwardly offered his cheek, but she pressed her lips lightly against his. They were warm and waxy. The whiff of rouge flew up his nostrils.

  He drew away a little more quickly than he’d meant to. “Thank you, Rozen. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon.”

  “I very much hope so. Goodbye again to you both and good luck whatever your decision.”

  “Goodbye Miss Trehearne,” said Ella, still smiling, but with a trace of terseness in her tone.

  Mr Mabyn escorted them to the back gate. He gave Adam his business card. “Once you’ve signed the contract send it to that address.”

  “You say that as if there’s no question of us not signing,” said Ella.

  Mr Mabyn afforded her a dry glance that suggested the remark was not worthy of a response. “If you have any questions, you may contact me on the number provided. Please do not contact Miss Trehearne again until after you’ve moved into Fenton House.” He pointed them along the alley in the opposite direction to before.

  Ella held her tongue until they were out of the solicitor’s earshot. “Can you believe that woman? Did you notice she’d put on fresh lipstick?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think she was turned on by your confession. She’s obviously attracted to you. Maybe that’s what this whole thing is about – her finding a toyboy.” Ella prodded the contract. “It’s probably written into here that you have to service her needs once a week or something.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Adam. “She just wanted a kiss. She might not have kissed anyone since her mother died. Who knows, maybe she’s never kissed a man before. Are you seriously begrudging her one little kiss?”

  Ella was sulkily silent for several paces, then she muttered, “I suppose not.”

  Adam caught hold of her arm and turned her to him. Cupping the back of her head, he crushed his lips against hers. After a breathless moment, he drew away. “Does that make up for it?”

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Ella replied with a provocative pout. “I may need some more convincing.” Her voice was suddenly serious again. “If there‘s anything dodgy in this contract, we’re not signing it. Agreed?”

  Adam didn’t respond until Ella gave his hand a sharp squeeze, then he nodded reluctantly.

  Chapter 8

  The cottage they’d hired for the weekend overlooked the harbour in Porthleven, a fishing village a few miles north of The Lizard. As Adam drove, Ella perused the contract. “Listen to this,” she said. “On signing we assume full responsibility for the upkeep of Fenton House and all the land belonging to it. We’re obliged to maintain said property in a good state of repair.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” remarked Adam.

  “What if something goes seriously wrong with the house? What if another storm damages the tower? It could cost us tens of thousands.”

  “So we’ll sell our house. The money will keep us going until I sell my new book.”

  “You’ve got to finish writing it first.”

  Adam smiled nonchalantly, but there was an edge of tension in his voice. “Once I’m here the words will come. I’m sure of it.”

  “I hope you’re right. There’s one thing I know you’re right about. We will have to sell our house. It’s written into the contract that we can’t use Fenton House as a second home. It must be our only residence.”

  “That’s fine by me. The sooner we get shot of our house the better.”

  “I understand how you feel, Adam. Part of me feels the same way. But I also don’t like the idea of burning our bridges.”

  “Fuck those bridges.” Adam’s voice was brittle with emotion. “If it was up to me, we’d never go back to Walthamstow again.”

  Ella stroked his shoulder like a mother comforting a child. Her gaze returned to the contract. “The signee along with their spouse or partner and any children must reside continuously in Fenton House. Basically if one of us moves out all of us have to. I find that a bit odd. What about when Henry goes to university? Will
we have to leave too?”

  “That’s a long way off, Ella.”

  “Six years. It’s not that far away.”

  “Even if we do only get to live in Fenton House for six years, I’d still sign without hesitation.” Adam made a circular motion for Ella to move on to the next point.

  “Our house is not the only thing we’ll have to sell. Any furniture, ornaments and soft furnishings brought into Fenton House must be in a style sympathetic to it.”

  Nodding approvingly, Adam continued to motion.

  “We may not remove any of the contents of Fenton House. We can move them around within its confines, with the exception of paintings, tapestries and mirrors. The Lewarne Room must not be altered in any way. We may redecorate the other rooms, but only after Rozen has given her approval. We may not make any structural changes. We may not enter the observatory tower. Well we know why that’s in there. We may not allow anyone into the house to investigate or write about it and its past or present inhabitants. Nor may we publish anything of that sort ourselves. We may not...” Ella paused, raising an eyebrow. “Now this is strange. We may not bring in a priest or psychic to bless, exorcise or perform any other sacred ritual.”

  “Actually that makes perfect sense when you think about what Rozen believes.”

  “I suppose so, but that doesn’t exactly put my mind at rest.”

  “Look, we’ve established that Rozen’s an eccentric. Anyone would be who’d lived her life. So let’s just take this contract with a big pinch of salt.”

  “No let’s not.” Ella’s voice was soft but firm. “I know you fell in love with Fenton House the instant you saw it, but let’s try to think about this without emotion. Who is Rozen Trehearne? What does she want from us?”

  “She’s a harmless old lady. And this isn’t about what she wants. It’s about what the,” Adam put on a ghostly voice, “sp-ir-its of Fenton House want.”