by Nicola Upson
‘But he came to you about the fire.’
‘That wasn’t spite, Harry – that was sorrow. Couldn’t you see that in his eyes? He didn’t want to believe it and he hoped you’d tell him it wasn’t true. If you’d denied it, he’d have let it go – even if, in his heart, he didn’t believe you. But you wouldn’t deny it, so he came to me.’
‘The look on his face, Morwenna,’ he said, and she could tell from his eyes that he was reliving that moment with a new sense of horror. ‘I didn’t even have to push him, for goodness’ sake. He was so frightened when he saw me – all I had to do was take a couple of steps towards him.’
‘He thought he’d driven you to suicide,’ Morwenna said quietly. ‘I put that in his head – I was so angry with him.’
‘After everything he’d been through, all the confusion over what he felt and what he knew – he must have thought a dead man had come to take him to hell. It’s what I wanted him to think. What must that be like when you believe what Nathaniel believed?’
Throughout the misery of the last few weeks, Morwenna had, she realised now, been nurturing a vague, elusive hope that there was a way out of the wretchedness, and, as she looked at her brother, she saw it with a clarity which both frightened and astonished her. ‘You’re right,’ she said calmly, knowing that her certainty would reassure him. ‘We do have to go away – I see that now. We’ve got no choice.’
‘Really? But how can we after…’
The look of hope in his eyes almost made her waver. She had always wondered if a day would come when she would destroy him completely, and she realised now that this was it. ‘Don’t argue, Harry,’ she said, putting her finger to his lips. ‘We both need to be strong. We’ll go away, the three of us, and start again, but you need to rest first. You’re exhausted. Let’s go inside and get you something to eat, then I’ll go and find Loveday and tell her what we’re doing.’
At the thought of her sister, Morwenna felt a stab of regret but she pushed it quickly from her mind and led Harry back into the kitchen. She built the fire up and made him sit down next to it, then went into the pantry to fetch some food. When she came back, he was unlacing his boots, wincing with pain as he did so. ‘Here, let me,’ she said, bending down to help.
He smiled gratefully at her. ‘They’re not my boots,’ he explained.
‘They’ll have to do for now,’ she said. ‘We buried your best ones with you.’ Gently, she washed his feet while he ate, noticing how badly blistered and cut they were and trying not to think about the man whose boots had done such damage. ‘Go to bed and rest now,’ she said when she had finished. ‘I’ll bring you a drink up. I think there’s some whisky left over from the wake – it doesn’t seem right that you missed it.’
When she took the glass upstairs, Harry was standing in the doorway to his room. ‘You’ve cleared my things out already,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing left. It’s as if I never existed.’
‘It was all I could think of to do,’ she said, wishing she’d told him to take her bed. ‘The one thing I could control in the middle of so much that I didn’t understand. I’m sorry.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t be – it’s all right. After all, I don’t exist any more, do I? Harry Pinching’s dead. Neither of us can be who we were before.’
‘Use my room,’ she said, opening the door. She watched as he undressed and got into bed, then sat down next to him and handed him his drink. ‘This will help you sleep.’
He downed it in one. ‘God, that’s good. You’ll come back as quickly as you can?’
She took the empty glass from him and went over to the door. ‘Of course. You won’t even know I’ve gone. Then the three of us can leave.’
‘Do you know where you’d like to go?’
‘I don’t mind. As far away as possible, as long as we’re together.’
‘And you’ll fetch Shilling?’
‘Yes, I’ll fetch Shilling.’ She turned to go, but thought better of it and went back to the bed. As she bent her head to kiss him, the taste of the whisky on his tongue – mixed with the familiar feel of his hand on the back of her neck – almost overwhelmed her. ‘You do know I love you, don’t you?’ she asked, when she eventually pulled away.
‘You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t,’ he said, and smiled.
‘You’re right,’ she said sadly. ‘I wouldn’t.’
‘So it hasn’t all been for nothing?’
‘No, Harry – not for nothing,’ she said, and left him to sleep.
Loveday listened as her sister moved about downstairs. She had been furious when Harry and Morwenna went outside, leaving her alone in the cottage, unable to hear what was going on. Her anger had soon disappeared when they returned, however: at last, it seemed as though everything she had ever wanted was about to be hers. Harry was back, and the shouting had stopped. Perhaps the three of them could be happy together after all. She would miss the Loe estate – and Christopher, of course – but going away would be an adventure. The adventure that Harry had always promised her.
She sat down on the narrow bed, feeling suddenly quite tired. If she were honest, Morwenna was right – she still wasn’t completely better. Like Harry, she ought to get some rest. Quietly, Loveday crawled between the sheets and waited for Morwenna to fetch her.
There was a long silence in the room. Archie looked at Josephine and saw the shock and disbelief in her face. Rather than share her surprise, though, he felt that something had suddenly fallen into place which would explain everything. He could not begin to imagine yet how Harry had achieved such a complex illusion, but his instinct was to believe that Morveth’s suspicions were correct. ‘You’re saying that Harry put the other man’s body in the Loe Pool to fake his own death?’ he asked.
‘I’m saying it’s possible.’
‘But surely someone must have identified the body?’ Josephine said, still incredulous.
‘It’s not as simple as that,’ Morveth replied impatiently. ‘A body in the water for that long barely seems human. Morwenna identified the belt as Harry’s and Jacks had seen him going into the lake – that was enough to satisfy the authorities.’
‘But wouldn’t the undertaker be able to tell? Is it really that bad?’
‘It can be,’ Archie said. ‘It depends on the temperature of the water and, to an extent, on predators, although most of the decaying organisms come from the body itself. I’ll spare you the details but a month would be long enough to make visual recognition impossible, or at least very difficult – and don’t forget how badly the man’s face was already beaten.’ He turned back to Morveth. ‘And I suppose that certain people were quite relieved to bury Harry Pinching after everything that had gone on. The world was a far more convenient place with him dead.’
‘I can’t speak for Jago, although he’s never given me any indication that he suspected the body wasn’t Harry’s. I certainly didn’t know.’
‘But now you seem quite sure. Is that because of what happened on Tuesday night? You realise, I suppose, that if you’re right, and Harry is still alive, he’s a prime suspect for Nathaniel’s murder? Did you see him at the Minack?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’ Archie asked, exasperated. ‘I’m beginning to lose patience here, Morveth. If Harry Pinching is alive and somewhere on this estate, I need to find him before someone else gets hurt. I haven’t got time to sit around here all day playing word games with you, so I’d be grateful if you would tell me as quickly as possible everything you know about Tuesday night, starting with why you weren’t where you were supposed to be when Nathaniel jumped from the balustrade.’
‘Loveday and Morwenna needed me,’ Morveth said. ‘Loveday was ill and Morwenna came to find me. I suggested they take Jago’s van to get home – it was quick and it meant no one else had to be involved. I helped Morwenna get Loveday up the hill and settled into the van, and I watched them drive off.’
‘But that was earlier in
the evening, wasn’t it? Morwenna told me they were away from the theatre before Nathaniel died.’
‘Yes, but I couldn’t bring myself to go straight back. I sat there for a while in the darkness, thinking about everything that had happened to that family over the years, all the sadness and the lies and the guilt. It should have been a wonderful night, with Harry on stage and his sisters watching him proudly in the audience – but it was a mockery of everything that was normal and right. Harry was dead – or so I thought – and his fourteen-year-old sister was pregnant with his child, and Morwenna – well, who can say what grief and insanity she’s been fighting. So I was mourning them, Archie, when Nathaniel died – not just Harry, but the whole family, Sam and Mary too. And suddenly all that artifice and play-acting on stage seemed so wrong. I just wanted to put a stop to the whole thing, but someone else did that for me, and in the most terrible way imaginable.’
‘But can you say for certain who that was?’ Archie persisted.
‘Not for certain, no, but I knew I couldn’t stay away from the play for ever, so I started to make my way backstage by the steps that run alongside the auditorium, and before I’d got very far, I found the cloak – one of the brown habits. It wasn’t hidden – just cast aside, like someone had taken it off in a hurry.’
‘But you hadn’t seen anyone?’
‘No. I picked the cloak up and went further down, and by that time, of course, the play had been stopped and everyone was just standing around, wondering what had happened.’
‘You must have realised that the two things were connected. What did you do with the cloak?’
‘I took it backstage and put it with the rest of the costumes as people were taking them off, next to the bishop’s outfit so that I could find it again.’
‘And it didn’t occur to you to hand it over as evidence?’ Archie asked angrily.
‘I was going to say something, but then I met Jago. He was upset, because he thought he’d glimpsed Christopher in the auditorium but he couldn’t find him anywhere – and I was horrified.’
‘You thought that Christopher might have left the cloak there? That he killed Nathaniel because of the business with his parents?’
‘Yes, and I couldn’t put Jago through that – he’s never really forgiven himself for what we did all those years ago – so I kept quiet until I could find out more about what had gone on. But then I went back to the cloak and, when I picked it up again and held it closer to me, I knew it wasn’t Christopher who’d been wearing it.’
‘How?’
‘Because of the smell. Harry always took a pipe – do you remember?’ Archie nodded. ‘He used to smoke his father’s tobacco – one of those childish acts of rebellion that he indulged in until he found something much more serious to get himself into trouble with – and he never lost the habit. It was always one of the first things you noticed about him – that and his smile. There’s nothing quite like it when you’ve lost someone – the smell of them, I mean. On their clothes, in their books – but that cloak had never been near Harry while he was alive. Yet he might as well have been standing there in it.’
‘And Christopher doesn’t smoke?’
‘No. He might have the odd cigarette to act like a man, but not like this. Pipe tobacco’s very different, and Harry’s brand was quite distinctive.’
‘It still seems odd to me that you’d leap to that conclusion – to pin a murder on a dead man.’
‘Not after what I’d heard that afternoon. I knew about the fire and I heard Nathaniel telling you how he panicked when he found out, so there was no question in my mind that Harry would have good reason to make sure Nathaniel kept his mouth shut. And I couldn’t get the words Nathaniel used out of my head – something about Harry standing beside him and taking him to hell. That’s what he looked like that night on the cliff path, you know – a man in a living hell.’
‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in my asking where the cloak is now, is there?’ Archie said, knowing full well what the answer would be. ‘Destroying evidence is serious, Morveth, and not something I can turn a blind eye to.’
‘I know, but I did get rid of it,’ Morveth said. ‘I thought it was for the best. You see, I didn’t want to believe that Harry had done it.’
‘Or that you made it possible for him,’ said Josephine sharply.
Morveth looked at her sadly. ‘Do you think I could ever forget that?’ she asked. ‘My own conscience is far more ruthless than a stranger’s tongue.’
‘But instead of doing anything about it, you’ve just been waiting for him to turn up, haven’t you?’ Josephine continued, ignoring her. ‘That was another reason for driving me out of Loe Cottage yesterday – you think he’ll come back for them, and you’re keeping watch.’
‘Have you said anything to Morwenna?’ Archie asked, standing up ready to go.
‘No – like I said, I’m not certain of any of this, and it’s better that she believes him dead until we know otherwise.’
‘I’m afraid I beg to differ there. She may be in danger.’
‘No, Archie – he’d never hurt them.’
‘Are you sure about that? Eight years ago, Harry was desperate enough to wipe himself out and take most of his family with him. If you’re right about what he’s done now, he’s got even less to lose – and this time, he won’t leave without Morwenna.’
When Morwenna went back upstairs, Harry was sleeping soundly. She watched him for a moment, taking a last look at his face against the pillow, then took the matches from her pocket. The piece of material which she carried – a scarf that Harry had been wearing the first time they made love and the one thing of his which she could not bear to destroy – was faded and worn now, and smelt overpoweringly of petrol; still, if she closed her eyes to blot out the present, she fancied she could still catch the faint scent of earth and leaves and a fourteen-year-old autumn that felt so recent. Who could have predicted then that she would finish what Harry had started, and that this would be her final gift to her brother? An oblivion which she longed for herself, free of the fear and pain that had filled Nathaniel’s last conscious seconds.
As the fire took hold, she shut the bedroom door behind her and locked it, thinking about all the times that she had closed it from the other side, desperate to keep Harry out and deny everything that he had ever meant to her. She paused, glancing towards Loveday’s room, and wondered if she should take something with her to remind her of her sister – but there was really no need; the guilt she felt over the way that she had treated her was more than enough to carry. She locked the side door and removed the key, then went out through the kitchen and back to the empty stable where she had made her decision. Quickly, she took the reins from their hook and ran down through the garden and out into the woods. She had to get away before her resolve weakened and sent her screaming back into the house to save Harry and damn herself.
They saw the smoke long before they were anywhere near Loe Cottage. Archie drove faster, forcing the car down the narrow country lane, and Josephine sat silently beside him, willing them to be in time – for what, she could not honestly have said. Morveth’s conversation with Archie had left her searching for an outcome which could conceivably be described as for the best, and so far it eluded her.
When they pulled up outside, the fire seemed confined – so far – to the first floor and could not have begun long ago. Nevertheless, the flames were making short work of the thatch and a small crowd had already gathered at a safe distance in the garden to watch this new assault on such an ill-fated cottage. Instinctively, Josephine looked up at Loveday’s window, remembering the girl’s face pressed to the glass the day before; please God, let her be all right, she thought. It was an uncharacteristic appeal to an authority in which she did not believe, but that Loveday should be spared seemed to her the only certainty in an unimaginable sequence of events, and she was willing for once to lend her faith indiscriminately.
For want of a better explanation,
Josephine realised with a mixture of astonishment and relief that her prayers had been answered. As she and Archie got out of the car, she saw beyond the front row of onlookers to where a group of women had gathered around a small figure – a living and breathing figure, albeit one whose face was blackened by smoke and stained with tears. ‘Loveday – thank God,’ she said, acknowledging her own hypocrisy but feeling it was the least she could do. Mrs Snipe was amongst the women, and Josephine went over to speak to her.
‘She’s not hurt, Miss Tey,’ the Snipe said, her arm still reassuringly around Loveday’s shoulders. ‘But she’s scared half to death and very confused. She keeps saying that Harry’s in there, but she must be getting it mixed up with the last time. It beggars belief, doesn’t it? This happening twice, I mean – it scarcely seems possible.’ She lowered her face and placed a comforting kiss on the top of Loveday’s head. ‘I’ll look after her, though – don’t you worry.’
‘Who got her out? Was it Morwenna?’
‘No, Miss – it was Jacks, of all people. He was working in the woods and saw the smoke. Morwenna’s nowhere to be seen. Loveday swears she’s not at home – keeps saying something about her going to get Shilling, but I don’t think the poor kid knows what’s what at the moment.’
‘And where’s Jacks now?’
‘He’s gone back into the fire.’ She looked up, and Josephine knew exactly what she was thinking. ‘He wouldn’t have it that Morwenna was safe.’
Archie was talking urgently with two men, one of whom turned and left as Josephine approached. ‘The fire brigade’s been called,’ he said, ‘but Jacks has gone back inside. I’ve told Joseph Caplin to go and fetch William – the last thing he needs is to stand here and watch a fire after what he’s been through. Is Loveday all right?’
‘Shocked and upset, but not hurt,’ Josephine said. ‘But Harry is in there. No one else believes her, of course.’
