Father had been to bed and looked disgustingly fresh. He’d fished out his old scarlet waistcoat embroidered with black roses, and a black velvet jacket. Naturally, the neck cloth (Elyan could only think of the thing in historical terms) was also black – silk.
Oh, to say what would actually be fun to say: The Prince Regent would have envied your sartorial splendor. ‘Father, did the police say anything before they left?’
‘You don’t have to worry about that,’ Percy said with a wave of a hand. ‘You need to be practicing. Off you go. The Schumann is almost brilliant. But no time to waste. I’ll have Mrs Meeker bring you something calming. You can take a rest in there, too. I don’t want you allowing your concentration to be upset. Should I have Mrs Meeker bring something for you, too, Sebastian?’
‘I’ve hardly been to bed and you want me to start practicing?’ Elyan sighed. His eyes stung yet again. ‘My sister hasn’t been dead two days. I don’t feel like practicing. That means you can stay with Father, Sebastian. When Wells finally comes down from whatever he thinks he has to do for an hour or so after he arrives, the three of you can talk about my plans. Don’t worry about my being here – not that you ever do. While you’re about it, decide how quickly we can get back to town. This is not a good place for us, never was and now it’s impossible.’
‘I shall want Darjeeling, Percy,’ Sebastian said, ignoring Elyan. He pulled his already sagging cotton jumper down until it hugged his lean body. ‘Nothing added. And nothing added for Elyan, either.’ He held up a hand toward his student. ‘And you will be practicing today. Percy, Daisy is upset, poor lamb. When she wakes up, have Meeker bring her hot chocolate and some chocolate digestives. Today I want my little one with me. No child should have to go through such tragedy.’
Elyan was more than fond of Sebastian, but any crisis, no matter how small – which this wasn’t – brought out this drippy, effete nonsense in the man.
‘Let’s take some time off,’ Elyan said, checking his watch. ‘I may try to sleep until Annie comes later. Wells doesn’t need a reception committee. I want to think about what’s happened. We can’t behave as if Laura didn’t die. She’s lying in some morgue, goddammit!’
His vision blurred and he shot to his feet. Rage and helplessness sent blood pounding to his head and he didn’t try to wipe away the tears that came. ‘And you shouldn’t involve Daisy in what’s going on. Of course she’ll know Laura has died and she’ll be crushed … and probably frightened.’
A choked sound came from Sebastian. Elyan stared at him and realized the pain in his eyes wasn’t an act although he raised his face to hide the evidence.
Elyan softened his voice. ‘They spent a lot of time together. Laura loved her.’
‘I think you overestimate your step-sister’s ability to love others – unless they provided opportunities for her to do what she enjoyed most.’
Elyan blinked and scrubbed at his eyes to see his father clearly. ‘Half-sister. We share your blood, remember? And “others”? What the fuck does that mean? And what the fuck do you mean by “what she enjoyed most”?’
‘Language—’
‘Don’t preach to me, Father dear. When it suits, you can sound like a stevedore on oral performance enhancers.’
‘You want to goad me. You’d like me to hit you, wouldn’t you? You are angry and as usual you take it out on the one who cares about you more than any other.’
Elyan took a step toward his father. ‘What did you mean about Laura?’
Percy sighed a long, long sigh, fell into a chair and closed his eyes. ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t make me say this. Laura has always thought only of herself and if she could attract more attention by hurting someone else, she would. The way she hurt you, Elyan.’ He opened his eyes and leaned forward. ‘There is nothing to be gained by dwelling on that now, but never doubt that your half-sister did you harm whenever she could. Many small cuts, my boy, many small cuts. As to the little predilection she thought was secret, well, far be it from me to criticize her weakness.’
‘Enough!’
Sebastian’s tone swung Elyan around. The man’s eyes glittered with rage and this time he pushed his forelock angrily away from his brow.
Percy waved a dismissive hand.
‘Don’t talk about Laura like that,’ Sebastian said. ‘She was a dear girl and deserved better than she got. She had no predilections, as you put it. You shouldn’t have listened to spiteful tales.’
‘I gave her everything,’ Percy said in a low, controlled voice. ‘Most of all I gave her the best care possible.’
‘And love?’ Sebastian said. ‘Did you give her love? Did anyone except perhaps, Mrs Meeker? Elyan is … was fond of her but he has his own life. All you cared about was making sure she helped with the picture of your perfect – and perfectly balanced – family. She was a nuisance to you, really, and you must have wished she’d never been born.’
Percy had turned pale. He took out a snowy handkerchief and wiped his face, looking close to tears himself. ‘You think you can’t be replaced,’ he muttered. ‘Have a care. And remember, if someone pokes too deep, they may find all sorts of things.’
‘Meaning?’ Sebastian pulled his slight frame up straight.
The smile Percy gave him turned Elyan’s heart. ‘Music room,’ Percy said. ‘Now. We have only six weeks to be ready for Vienna.’
We. Perhaps his father really did think he was the one on the stage wherever it happened to be, inside Elyan’s body but controlling him, controlling his hands. And when Elyan stood to take a bow, did Percy put himself there in his son’s place?
‘I haven’t mentioned Laura’s death to Daisy yet,’ Sebastian said distantly. ‘I see no reason for a six-year-old to struggle with that concept. Kindly avoid the subject when she might hear.’
‘This is a nightmare and getting worse,’ Elyan said. ‘How do you imagine we can keep the truth from Daisy? She will look for Laura and ask where she is. What then?’
‘Laura is in London,’ Sebastian said. He looked ill. ‘She has gone up to visit friends—’
‘You don’t think Daisy is already wondering about the police being here?’ Elyan cut him off. ‘She saw them come and go yesterday. She’s a very astute little girl and she’s six, not—’
‘Stop it!’ Percy said, rousing himself from the morose silence he’d gathered around him. ‘You’re a fool, Sebastian. A blithering idiot. How long do you think we can keep something this momentous from Daisy? No, I won’t be editing what I say for anyone. And before you say I’m callous, I’m very fond of Daisy and want the best for her. She is a member of my household and that’s how I think of her.’
Before Sebastian could get out whatever was about to explode from his mouth, Elyan covered the distance between them and slapped his hands on the teacher’s shoulders. ‘Let’s calm down.’ He narrowed his eyes at the man, willing him to get the message that they would gain nothing from expecting normal reactions from Percy.
‘I want some news.’ Sebastian’s voice rose higher. ‘The police have left us flapping in the wind. How long can it take to do a post-mortem? These people spend their lives doing these things—’
‘Don’t,’ Elyan said, stepping back. ‘I can’t think about that. When are the police coming back? They must have said something to you, Father?’
‘They haven’t finished with the house,’ Percy said tiredly. ‘That O’Reilly fellow said they would need more time and we shouldn’t go into Laura’s room.’
‘Annie will be here around noon,’ Elyan said quietly. ‘She can’t use that room now.’ He stopped short of saying Annie should have been given her own room from the beginning. There were plenty of empty bedrooms.
‘She should have been stopped from coming but Mrs Meeker will have to deal with that.’ Percy frowned deeply. He pressed an intercom on the wall, waited for a woman’s voice to answer and said, ‘Come in here, please, Meeker.’
He clicked off. ‘Where’s your mother?’
/> Elyan let out a shuddering breath. ‘I should have thought you’d be the one to know that.’ It was a deliberate dig at the connubial bliss his parents almost invariably served chilled, but he was beyond sheltering his feelings.
‘Why don’t you and Sebastian run along now?’ Percy said.
Elyan could feel how badly the man wanted his son out of the way. ‘I’m not four, Father. I don’t have to be told to run along and play.’ He shook his head and grinned at his own weak joke.
Rather than Mrs Meeker, it was Sonia who came into the room. She wore very flattering camel-colored satin lounging pajamas and strappy gold sandals with the high heels she favored, but not a scrap of make-up. Her eyes were puffy. She walked past them all and stood at the window, looking through goat willow branches in full leaf toward a stretch of lawn that sloped down to the swimming pool and the whimsical color-washed bath houses.
‘Laura liked the pink and yellow,’ she said distantly. ‘I told her I couldn’t understand why the owner would paint the pool buildings those colors when they’re so close to a house like this. Out of place. But she liked them. I shall like them, too, now. When are we leaving?’
Her loose, gold curls were natural and fell in ringlets about her shoulders. Usually, she pulled them back, or somehow kept them away from her face.
‘We’re not leaving,’ Percy said. ‘Use your head, Sonia. How would it look if we packed up right after Laura’s death?’
‘How would it look? You make it sound as if we had something to do with what’s happened.’
Sonia’s shoulders shook and it was Sebastian who was first to comfort her. He patted her arm and rubbed the middle of her back. ‘There, there, old thing. This is horrible. We’ve got to pull together or fall apart. At least, that’s the way I see it.’
She nodded and snuffled.
‘You wanted something, Mr Quillam?’ Mrs Meeker, silent as ever in her black pumps with rubber soles and heels, came only far enough into the room to see Percy. Her face was another showing signs of distress.
‘Darjeeling for Sebastian,’ Percy said. ‘And Elyan.’
‘Where’s Daisy?’ Sebastian swung away from Sonia and went to Mrs Meeker. ‘Where is she? Did she come down? She always finds her way to the kitchen. She’s not to be alone.’
‘Upstairs with Wells,’ Mrs Meeker said. Amazingly, her pale lower lip trembled and she wound her hands together. Gray hair, in a stylishly cut gray bob, turned under below ear level. Her arched brows were still black, her eyes brown and unremarkable but for their natural brightness. Elyan had often wished he dare ask about Mr Meeker. The woman was tall and good-looking in an austere way. She had also always been an ally when Elyan needed to negotiate his way through the intricacies of the Quillam household.
‘You do all know what will happen if they decide Laura was murdered, don’t you?’ Sonia said. She turned around, her face in shadow with the light behind her. ‘They’ll take each one of us apart. Wells as well, of course. He was here that day. They will already have decided one of us did something to Laura – if it wasn’t an accident.’
‘Shut up,’ Percy snapped. ‘Why have you never learned to filter these errant thoughts of yours? Of course it was an accident.’
She took a few steps toward him and held out a hand. ‘Be kind for once, Percy,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Whatever you’ve been told about me isn’t true. I gave up everything for you. Even my violin. I hardly ever play. Why don’t you believe how much this family means to me?’
‘Can we keep this about Laura,’ Elyan said. He detested these outbursts between his parents, outbursts he had never understood. He got up and went to Sebastian who still faced the window, his head bowed. ‘This is one time when we have to stop thinking about ourselves. Only about ourselves, I mean. We’re upset – all of us – but we don’t have to let that make us stupid.’
Rather than the expected growl of anger, his father said, ‘Say what you mean, boy? Come on, speak up.’
‘Right you are. Let’s be plain. We have to use our heads. This village has a weird history and getting more so. I’m working on digging up anything we might want to know. Mother, of course I don’t think Laura was murdered. But in case I’m wrong, you shouldn’t be so quick to close the list of suspects.’
TEN
One of the benefits of not living in the village proper, or close enough to the road for someone driving by to see, was that an additional vehicle in her driveway overnight didn’t usually become the subject of gossip.
Not that Alex really cared. But old inhibitions could be reflexive.
Trying to make as little noise as possible on the gravel in front of the house, she returned to the Range Rover with another armload of supplies to take down the hill. All of this, the ordinary stuff of living and working here, made her happy. When she first got up that morning, early wisps of gray wove through treetops on the wooded areas of the hillside between the Dimple, and Folly at the bottom. The strings of colored lights, which she kept draped around the forecourt throughout the year at the Black Dog, were still visible.
Already the misty ribbons had unthreaded and slipped away. Sun, still pale but with the promise of warmth, flicked silver sequins across the lake in the village green and with each moment, Alex’s pub lights were harder to pick out from up here.
Fields rose gently over hills behind the village, divided by endless hedgerows and drystone walls. Copses of trees huddled, some tall, some stubby, like lonely guard squadrons.
There it was again, the emptiness picking at the edges of the confidence she had worked so hard to make real. It was real – sometimes. The past few days had caught her off guard. Of late, little Lily who had also been real to her, but who couldn’t live to run down this hill, or play on the green, was a visible child in her mind and increasingly vivid. Most frequently Alex saw the turn of a head, dark curly hair tossed around while she ran. Always she ran away and they did not touch. Would she have been a dolly and miniature pram girl, or a ‘watch me jump out of this tree and break my leg’ girl? Quiet or boisterous? Would she love books as Alex did? Would she want to read the many volumes, most of them collectible, of classic children’s stories Alex had made a hobby – perhaps an obsession – of collecting?
She hadn’t changed, she thought. Not really. Down deep and sometimes not so deeply, she wanted to love and be loved, to watch children grow and know they were her own.
Damn, was it the feelings she had for Tony that turned her into this maudlin creature she hardly recognized? Did she actually love him? Alex almost laughed aloud. Could she even think of reducing the unsettled issues of her life to simple questions of loving or not loving a man?
Last night had caused this, the way she felt about him when they were together. He made her feel happy, complete, but when dawn came, either the light of day or the clearing of her mind, she didn’t know anymore.
And whether she faced it or not, he had never told her what he felt for her, truly felt. He’d like to be with her, he said. That didn’t cover all the things she needed to know before she risked trusting another man.
That miniature girl was dead. And she, so briefly a mother, was reacting to the reality of life and death and the human inability to hold on to whatever seemed to be happiness – if only for a moment.
Bogie sat at her feet, looking up into her face. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t move, just sat there and waited. ‘Hey, boy,’ she said quietly. ‘My buddy, that’s what you are. We’d better get going and hope we don’t wake Tony. He works too hard. But we need to move on with our day.’
She lifted her newly-acquired and prized second-hand bike – dark red – from where it leaned on the side of the car, onto its rack at the back of her vehicle. Her helmet, also red, was already on the back seat with the big strap-on basket for Bogie. Her intention was to put the bike through its paces by going for a ride after lunch, then seeing how she did toiling up the hill to come back home. If that proved too ambitious, she could a
lways coast back down and pick up the Rover. The whole plan could be mostly scuttled if Bogie didn’t take to her ‘flying hound’ idea.
‘Are you sneaking out on me, Duggins?’
Tony’s voice startled Alex.
Braced against the front door jamb, he grinned when she looked at him. ‘Get back in here and make my breakfast, woman.’
‘Very funny.’ Katie slid outside from behind Tony and joined Bogie in a chase around the front gardens. ‘I want to get in early but I wouldn’t say no to a coffee – if you’re making it.’
‘You’ve got a bike,’ he said and put one bare foot down on the gravel before wincing and drawing back. ‘You never said anything about a bike.’
Alex pretended to hide her face. ‘I was embarrassed. I’m not sure I can still ride one, I haven’t for years and years. It was offered on a card at the post office. Darlene Murray behind the counter said it was her daughter’s but she never took to it. Remember Darlene’s girl, Cynthia? When she was little she used to count out stamps and tear them off the big sheets for her mum when she was selling them. She’d go through the stiff pages in that big folder so carefully to find the right ones. That was years ago. Most of them don’t come like that anymore. Don’t you think a bike would be convenient around here?’
He studied her. ‘Mm. Perhaps. You’re a woman of surprises. I’ve still got my old Raleigh. It was my dad’s.’ He smirked. ‘He keeps telling me it’s an antique and will be worth something one day.’
‘Good. Keep it safe. We may need the money for my defense.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘When you do something bad enough, I’ll bail you out anyway.’ He hooked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen and disappeared back inside.
When she reached the kitchen she noticed Tony was damp from the shower, his clothes a bit rumpled, and he wore his favorite foot fashion – nothing. He turned the coffee on, gathered a couple of mugs and put out cream and sugar.
Melody of Murder Page 8
