A Family Concern

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘Where does he live now, your father-in-law?’ Rona asked, as they went up the steps.

  ‘Above the shop, would you believe, and no one can shift him. He loves it there.’

  Kate led the way into a large sitting room overlooking a long back garden. Beyond the far wall, Rona could see the woods she’d mentioned. A trolley bearing cups and saucers stood by the open fire, and Kate excused herself to bring in the tea.

  Rona turned from the window to find Freya watching her.

  ‘Did Kate tell you I’m hoping to do some articles about family businesses?’

  ‘Yes. It should be … interesting.’

  ‘And I also told her,’ continued Kate, coming in with the teapot, ‘that you might be able to help with her dreams.’

  ‘Oh Kate, I did say—’

  Kate waved an airy hand. ‘It can’t do any harm, and Freya wouldn’t have come if she’d not been prepared to talk about it.’

  Rona glanced uneasily at the girl, but she replied quietly, ‘I’ve told them I won’t see a doctor, but I’ll try almost anything else. And through no fault of your own, you’re already involved.’

  ‘I have to warn you, I’m not even remotely qualified in this field.’

  ‘But you’re good at working things out,’ Kate argued. ‘Go on, Rona, give it a try. You can see it’s getting Freya down.’

  ‘All right, I’ll try, but I honestly don’t think it’ll do any good.’

  Kate passed her a cup of tea and a plate of sandwiches. ‘Off you go, then.’

  ‘I suppose the first thing to ask,’ Rona began reluctantly, ‘is how long you’ve been having these dreams?’

  ‘For a couple of months this time, but I had a bout several years ago, and as far as I remember they were much the same.’

  ‘What helped you over them last time?’

  ‘They just fizzled out. But they weren’t nearly as detailed as they are now, and what’s frightening is that each time I have the dream, it unfolds a bit more.’

  ‘You think you’re falling, is that right?’

  Freya said slowly, ‘I’m hiding somewhere quite high up – in a hay loft, perhaps, or at the top of a ladder. I can hear this tune—’

  ‘“Auprès de ma blonde”?’

  ‘You know it?’

  ‘My husband recognized it. How exactly do you hear it? Is it on the radio, for instance, or is someone humming it?’

  ‘Do you know,’ Freya said slowly, ‘I’ve never stopped to analyse that; it’s just a sound in my head. But …’ she frowned in concentration. ‘… I think someone is whistling it. Anyway, it goes on for some time, and then there are voices, getting more and more angry.’ She closed her eyes tightly, and Kate and Rona sat immobile, waiting for her to continue. ‘Then there’s a gap,’ Freya went on at last, ‘and after that, I can hear a man sobbing.’

  ‘How do you know it’s a man?’

  ‘I’m not sure – I just do. Then I want to sneeze, which I know would give me away, so I pinch my nose to try to stop it, but because I’m only hanging on by one hand, I start to slip.’ There was another silence, then she said flatly, ‘And that’s about it, really.’

  ‘You said there was a gap before you heard the sobbing. You mean you can’t remember that bit?’

  ‘No; I’ve tried to, but I get very upset and start shaking like mad, so I have to stop.’

  Rona took the sandwich Kate was offering her. ‘When these dreams started, can you think of anything that could have triggered them off?’

  Freya shook her head. ‘They came out of the blue.’

  ‘And you have them every night?’

  ‘Yes; probably because I now expect to.’

  ‘Aren’t dreams like this caused by childhood traumas?’ Kate prompted.

  ‘That’s one interpretation, but I read somewhere that the mind is trying to make sense of something, and often misinterprets it.’

  ‘The theory last time was that they were caused by her mother leaving her; could there be any truth in that?’

  ‘Kate!’ Rona protested helplessly. ‘I’ve no more idea than you have!’ Then, since they were both looking at her expectantly, she continued, ‘I was told you were quite ill when she went. Can you remember that?’

  ‘No, I only know what I’ve been told.’

  Kate topped up her tea. ‘Lewis says you changed overnight from an outgoing little tomboy to jumping at shadows.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And that you either wouldn’t or couldn’t speak for weeks afterwards. But Freya, from what I’ve heard your mother didn’t have much to do with you anyway. So why should her going have such an effect?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Freya said woodenly.

  ‘You were close to your nanny?’ Rona asked, and the girl’s face brightened.

  ‘Yes, very. I still see her from time to time.’

  ‘Where’s she living now?’

  ‘In a residential home; Stapleton House, near Chesham.’

  ‘I know it,’ Rona said. It was an expensive establishment, and she guessed the Tarltons must be footing the bills. ‘Have you asked her why it should have affected you?’

  ‘No, it upsets her to talk about it. She was Daddy’s nanny when he was little, and she never forgave Mummy for going off and leaving him.’

  ‘She might talk to you,’ Kate said eagerly.

  Rona had been thinking the same thing. ‘Would you mind if I went to see her?’

  Freya shook her head. ‘Her name’s Violet Gray – Miss, of course. But I don’t think you’ll get much out of her.’

  After a minute, Rona said, ‘Does the rest of the family know you’re talking to me? I don’t want to feel I’m going behind their backs.’

  ‘Lewis knows, of course,’ Kate replied, ‘and I told Jan and Robert. They weren’t too keen on the idea, but agreed anything’s worth a try if it helps Freya.’ Kate flashed her a glance. ‘I also told them about the articles you’re planning,’ she added. ‘I hope you don’t mind?’

  Rona would have preferred to make the first approach herself, but the damage was done. ‘What did they think about it?’

  ‘Generally in favour, though I gather some subjects would be off-limits.’

  Rona nodded. ‘Though if I’m to try to get to the bottom of the dreams, I’ll have to ask about Mrs Tarlton.’

  ‘I think they realize that, but it won’t be for publication.’

  ‘Understood.’ She turned back to Freya, who was staring into the fire. ‘Is there anything else you can tell me?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Then we’ll leave any more questions till I’ve spoken to Miss Gray and your relatives. With luck, we might have a clearer picture.’

  When they’d finished tea, Rona’s glance returned to the window. ‘Could I have a look at the garden before it gets dark?’ she asked. ‘Ours is only the size of a pocket-handkerchief.’

  ‘It’s not at its best this time of year,’ Kate answered, ‘but you’re welcome to have a wander. I’ll come with you. Freya?’

  ‘You go ahead, I’ll clear away the tea things.’

  ‘Oh, leave them; I’ll—’

  ‘Really, I’d like to. You two go – please.’

  Kate shrugged, and as Freya began to stack the plates on the trolley, she unlocked the French windows and Rona and Gus followed her outside. Beyond the window was a wide terrace containing several terracotta urns, emptied now of their summer flowers, and a black wrought-iron table and chairs.

  ‘We really ought to put those in the shed over winter,’ Kate commented, ‘but Lewis says it’s not worth moving them.’

  The terrace was bounded by a low stone wall, and a flight of steps led down through a grassy bank to the lawn some four feet below. On either side of the garden, crescent-shaped beds held dwarf conifers and variegated evergreens, with, scattered among them, the bravely flying flags of a few late dahlias.

  ‘I knew Freya wouldn’t come,’ Kate remarked, as they started down the
steps. ‘We can hardly ever get her into the garden, and when we do manage it, she’ll never go more than a few feet beyond the terrace.’

  Rona looked at her in surprise. ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Search me. She maintains that she’s “been there, done that”.’

  ‘But a garden’s changing all the time, from season to season.’

  ‘She says she can see as much as she needs to from the house. I’ve given up trying to persuade her, though I thought she might make an exception today, since you’re here.’

  ‘Has she always been like that?’ Rona asked curiously.

  ‘You’ll have to ask Lewis, but certainly for as long as I’ve known her. And the odd thing is that she loves Matthew’s garden; the two of them work in it together.’

  ‘I wonder if it’s part and parcel of the same thing,’ Rona mused. ‘A leftover of being timid, and so on. What time of year was it that Mrs Tarlton left?’

  Kate looked surprised. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘I’m trying to build up a mental picture.’

  ‘Actually, it was September. I know, because Lewis told me it was the week after his thirteenth birthday.’

  They walked slowly down the garden, and Gus, running ahead, lifted his leg against some bushes. Rona apologized, but Kate only laughed.

  ‘No inhibitions!’ she said. ‘Mustn’t it be wonderful?’

  Rona was revelling in the spaciousness of the wide lawn and spreading flower beds, the gazebo and the little water feature. But shadows were already gathering round the edges, the sun was low in the sky, and a breeze had sprung up, making them shiver. As they reached the bottom of the garden, Kate turned to go back.

  ‘Do you ever go through there?’ Rona nodded towards the gate in the wall.

  ‘No, the bolts are rusted solid. I keep meaning to have them freed, because in spring, the bluebells out there are spectacular.’

  They started to walk up the darkening garden to the lighted windows of the house.

  ‘What do you think?’ Kate asked abruptly. ‘Will you be able to do anything?’

  ‘I can ask questions, but so could anyone else.’

  ‘But you’d have a new slant on it, not being personally involved. We really are very grateful, Rona.’

  ‘I’ll do what I can, but no promises and no guarantees.’

  ‘That’s as much as anyone can ask,’ Kate said, and they went back into the welcome warmth of the house.

  Rona was surprised, when the phone rang at six, to find Max on the line. He usually phoned after the class, about ten o’clock.

  ‘Hi, there,’ he said.

  ‘Hello! I wasn’t expecting you so soon.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got the studio all set up, so I thought I’d ring now.’ A pause, almost as though he was waiting for her to say something. Then, ‘How was your day?’

  ‘Quite interesting. Kate invited me to tea to meet Freya, and she was telling me about her dreams. I’m not long home.’

  ‘I shouldn’t get involved, if I were you. Minds are tricky things, and you could end up doing actual damage.’

  ‘That’s what I told them, but they’re insisting I go ahead. I said I’d see the nanny, anyway. She might fill in a few gaps.’

  When he made no further comment, she asked, ‘How about you? Did you finish the Guild Street sketches?’

  ‘Almost.’ Another pause. ‘I presume you’ve not spoken to Lindsey today.’

  Rona frowned. ‘No, why?’

  ‘Just that on the way to the Gallery, I was cornered by Adele Yarborough, who invited herself to join me. And Lindsey was there.’

  Rona felt herself go hot. ‘You had coffee with Adele?’

  ‘I’ve just said so. Obviously it was pure chance, meeting her in the street like that, but Lindsey seemed to put a different interpretation on it.’

  Yes, Rona thought, she would; as she would have herself, she admitted, had she been the one to see them.

  Max said a little impatiently, ‘Rona?’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  ‘That you believe it wasn’t premeditated. I know how you are about Adele.’

  ‘You’ve said what happened, and I believe you.’ Her voice sounded stilted, even to herself.

  ‘No questions?’ His had an edge to it.

  ‘No.’ But if you’ve anything to tell me, I’m listening.

  ‘Right.’ He drew a deep breath, and she realized he hadn’t relished the prospect of telling her – in fact, probably wouldn’t have done so, had Lindsey not seen them. And that was a less than comfortable thought. ‘Well, I’d better get something to eat before the hordes descend.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Speak to you tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said again. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  Lindsey was lying on the bed with Jonathan’s arm round her, agonizing over the chance meeting.

  ‘I don’t know what to do!’ she moaned, for the third time. ‘Do I tell Ro, or not? Max will probably say something, thinking I will, and then she’ll wonder why I didn’t tell her sooner.’

  Jonathan sighed. He regarded these interludes as a pleasant way to unwind after the day’s work, and was already bored with discussing Max Allerdyce. He was not, in any case, particularly enamoured of Lindsey’s sister – understandably, he felt, since she had once tricked him into having lunch with her, in order to accuse him of murder.

  ‘Jonathan?’ Lindsey twisted her head to look up at him. ‘What do you think I should do?’

  ‘Oh, now if that’s all you’re worrying about, I’ve all sorts of ideas!’ he said, propping himself on one elbow and running his finger down the length of her throat.

  She caught hold of his hand. ‘About Rona, idiot! Be serious!’

  ‘I am. Very serious.’ He bit her lip gently, but she turned her head away and he sighed. ‘All right, we’re obviously not going to get anywhere till you’ve sorted this out. So my advice, for what it’s worth, is, before you go rushing in to report what you obviously consider a breach of faith, be quite sure Max hadn’t told her in advance that he was meeting this woman.’

  ‘Oh!’ Lindsey sounded a little deflated. ‘He looked very guilty,’ she added in mitigation.

  ‘With you glaring at him, I’m not surprised. On the other hand, it could be that you’re not the only one who saw them, in which case, I’d guess she’d rather hear it from you than anyone else.’

  ‘So you think I should tell her? But she’ll still wonder why I didn’t phone straight away. Damn it, it was this morning that I saw them! And Max rings her every evening; I really ought to get in first.’

  ‘I trust you’re not thinking of interrupting this idyll to phone now? As you know, our time is limited, and I’ve been patient quite long enough.’

  Lindsey smiled. ‘So you have, darling. I’ll wait till you’ve gone, and then—’

  But the rest of her intention was lost as his mouth fastened over hers.

  Cicely Ryder, chief receptionist at the Clarendon, tapped on the door of the private sitting room where Stephen and Ruth Fairfax were relaxing over a pre-dinner drink.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ she began worriedly, ‘but I’m afraid we have a problem.’

  ‘What is it, Cicely?’

  ‘Mrs Jacobs has just reported that her Jacqmar scarf is missing. She says she left it on a chair in her room when she came in this afternoon, and when she went back to change for dinner, it wasn’t there.’

  Ruth frowned. ‘Who’s the chambermaid on her floor?’

  ‘Franny. She swears she hasn’t seen it.’

  ‘It’s quite likely,’ Stephen remarked, ‘that she only thinks she left it there. It’ll probably turn up in her handbag or shopping bag. Or, of course, she could have lost it while she was out.’

  ‘But you can’t tell her that!’ Ruth put in with a smile. ‘Has anyone else been in her room?’

  ‘She says not.’

  ‘Well,
assure her we’ll look into it, and ask Franny to search under the beds and behind doors when she does the room in the morning.’

  Cicely nodded and withdrew.

  Stephen watched her go, a furrow between his brows. ‘I hope to God we’re not in for a spate of missing articles. That kind of thing does nothing for our reputation.’

  ‘Let’s not anticipate trouble,’ Ruth said comfortingly. ‘I’m sure it’ll turn up.’

  Stephen looked across at her fondly. In the forty-odd years they’d been married, she had filled out a little and her dark hair had threads of grey, but essentially she was still the serious, sweet-faced girl he’d fallen in love with.

  On an impulse he got up, went over to her, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  She looked up in surprise. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Just to say I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  She smiled. ‘I’ve no intention of your finding out,’ she said.

  When Lindsey phoned, some forty minutes after Max, it was Rona who broached the subject.

  ‘Well!’ she said. ‘Better late than never!’

  ‘You know? Max told you?’

  ‘Of course he told me. He seemed to think you’d have got in first. Why didn’t you, Linz?’

  ‘I’ve been agonizing over it all day. He swore there was nothing in it—’

  ‘But you think there was?’

  ‘Oh God, Rona, I don’t know. What I do know is that they were sitting behind a pillar, and when I appeared, Max went scarlet.’

  ‘I suppose you gave him a shock,’ Rona said with a dry mouth.

  ‘No doubt of it. And Prissy Miss immediately leapt to his defence with a catalogue of explanations. I could see he’d willingly have cut her tongue out.’

  Rona said, ‘If it had been an assignation, he would hardly have taken her to the Gallery. I never go there without seeing someone I know.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Lindsey said uncertainly. ‘But what would you have done, if you’d seen Hugh with someone while we were still together?’

  After a minute, Rona said flatly, ‘I don’t know. The same as you, I suppose.’ But, she thought, Hugh really had been having an affair, which had ultimately led to their divorce. She felt suddenly cold.

  ‘Your love life as complicated as ever?’ she asked lightly.