Out of the Shadows

by Susan Lewis

  Patsy’s heart melted as she laughed. ‘Frank, he’s five years old and your son, how could I possibly not love him and want him to come with us?’

  ‘You have not met him yet,’ he warned. ‘He is very like me, this is true, so of course you will love him, but I am afraid he is like his mother too.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘What does that mean?’ she asked warily.

  ‘It mean that he is very good-looking, so you will not only love him, you will adore him and maybe fall in love with me just because of him, and I would like you to fall in love with me because of me.’

  Wishing she could get up and put her arms around him, she said, ‘Don’t worry, the falling’s all done.’

  ‘This is true?’ he said, looking surprised.

  ‘C’est vrai,’ she replied.

  ‘You love me?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Then maybe you will say so?’

  ‘Je t’aime,’ she whispered.

  He started to grin. ‘Now I come to my last proposal,’ he said mischievously.

  ‘Frank, if you dare …’

  ‘You do not know what is it.’

  ‘I can guess.’

  He scowled discouragingly.

  ‘I’m warning you, the answer will be no.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Completely?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Then this is very sad,’ he said mournfully, ‘because now it means you do not have the pleasure of me for lunch.’

  Susannah was speeding along the country lanes of Derbyshire as fast as her little G Wiz would allow, which was around forty miles an hour at a push, but that was fine. She wasn’t in any particular hurry. It was simply that she was keen to get back to the Long House where she, Neve and Lola were hosting a party that evening to welcome Pats and Frank, and Frank’s son, Jean-Luc, who were due to arrive in a couple of hours. Since Michael’s housekeeper had insisted on taking over the catering, and Michael himself was providing the wine, there wasn’t much for Susannah to do other than shower off the delightful smell of horses after a day in the saddle, dress in something light and summery, and pin up her hair because its weight, in this heat, made her hotter than ever.

  Doing her level best to overtake a tractor, she waved out to the driver as she finally steamed past, and received a friendly honk for her trouble. This daft little car that ran on electricity and looked like something Noddy drove, had been a gift from the manufacturer in exchange for her being photographed behind the wheel. At the last minute Neve had agreed to take part in the shoot, which had resulted in a happy boost for the publicity as one of the tabloids ran it on their front page alongside the headline G Wiz it’s the Blonde Bombshells.

  Ever since, she and Neve had become something of a local attraction as they chugged merrily around the countryside in it, mainly between the Centre and the Long House, and once even as far as the supermarket in Matlock. Unfortunately, they’d run out of power while there, so Michael and Ellie had had to come and rescue them, leaving a handful of unit drivers to load the car into a horsebox and whisk it off to the nearest plug.

  Watching Neve and Ellie together had become a source of great joy to Susannah over the past seven weeks. Almost from the start they’d been virtually inseparable, and now Neve was spending more nights at the manor than she did at the lodge or the Long House. During the day the two girls were either to be found mucking out stables, or learning to ride in Neve’s case, Ellie lending moral support, as she’d owned a horse since she was old enough to walk; or helping out in some capacity at the Centre. In looks they could hardly have been more contrasting, since Ellie might easily have passed for an Italian, her hair and complexion were so dark and exotic, while Neve was becoming blonder by the day now that summer was upon them. In fact, there were times when she looked so radiant that no one would ever have guessed she’d been through a trauma so recently, much less one so horrible. However, there were still nights when she crept into Susannah’s bed, needing comfort and reassurance, and any mention of Alan in her hearing seemed to deaden everything inside her.

  Since his arrest, after Helen and Julia had reported him to the police, he’d been released on bail, then promptly driven into hiding by the press. The tabloids were having a field day, thanks to his involvement with Susannah, though Neve’s name had never yet been mentioned as a victim, only as someone who’d been lucky to escape ‘the psycho predator’, mainly because Susannah had respected Neve’s wishes and not added her own accusations to Helen’s. However, she’d privately contacted Helen to let her know that if she needed any support she’d be willing to talk to Neve again. So far Helen’s only reply had been to say that while she appreciated the offer, she saw no reason to subject Neve to the kind of media circus that would make her suffering even greater than it was already, just because she had a famous mum.

  With the programme’s security being so tight Susannah was generally safe from prying lenses while shooting, and ever since Michael’s lawyer had requested, and won, a court order to stop photojournalists from hounding her during her journeys between the set and the manor, the going had become much easier. Of course, it hadn’t prevented the inevitable speculation about the nature of her relationship with Michael, but neither of them had ever commented on it publicly, nor, in fact, had they mentioned it to one another. They simply behaved like the good friends and neighbours they were, occasionally enjoying a drink, or perhaps a meal, together in the evenings, but never alone, always with the girls and Lola, and Lola’s new best friend, Binkie.

  Now, as Susannah urged the G Wiz in through the estate’s back gates, she ignored her ringing mobile because she was certain it would be Neve, asking how much longer she was going to be. Instead, she drove up to the front of the Long House and gave a cheery little toot on the horn as she came to a stop, to let those inside know she was back. It was a picture-book dwelling, constructed of Derbyshire sandstone and long-straw thatch, and fronted by sprightly clusters of hollyhocks mingling with a tumbling riot of colours from Lola’s lovingly tended hanging baskets.

  To her surprise, no one came out to greet her. Apart from a couple of horses regarding her in their usual desultory fashion from their stables across the way, and the twitter and bustle of swallows swooping about the cobbled yard, there wasn’t much sign of life. Even Binkie’s rose-covered cottage next door seemed to be shut up, which wasn’t usual for Binkie, since her windows and front door were generally wide open.

  Curious, and even a little concerned, since the party tables should be set up by now, and the buckets of flowers she’d ordered were nowhere in evidence, she took her script bag from the back seat and carried it into the cluttered dining room just inside the front door.

  ‘Neve!’ she shouted. ‘Lola! I’m back. Where are you?’

  Her voice echoed through the rooms and came back to her with a doubtful sort of resonance. Where was everyone?

  Opening up her phone, she was about to call Neve when it rang to let her know there was a message. Connecting to it, she dragged an elastic from her hair and had started to shake it out when another call came in, so switching to it, she said, ‘Hi, is that you Neve? Where are you?’

  ‘Actually, it’s me,’ the voice at the other end said, and she instantly froze.

  ‘How did you get this number?’ she spat.

  ‘Susannah, before you ring off, please just listen to me,’ he cried desperately. ‘Even if we never speak again, I need you to know …’

  ‘I’m not interested in anything you have to say,’ she told him savagely. ‘Now leave us alone, or I swear we’ll add our case to Helen’s.’

  ‘But Helen’s dropped hers,’ he told her. ‘As soon as she realised …’

  ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘Ask her. My lawyer got a call yesterday. The police aren’t pressing charges, because they know Julia’s lying. She’s been assessed by other professionals. It’s why I’m calling, because Neve needs to d
o the same. I never touched her, Susannah. It’s all in her head. Since her father left …’

  ‘I’m not listening to this,’ Susannah snarled. ‘Neve’s no fantasist.’

  ‘I know you don’t want to believe it, but for God’s sake, the rest of my life is at stake …’

  ‘Why, if Helen’s not pressing charges? What do you have to fear?’

  ‘Susannah, listen …’

  ‘No, you listen. One way or another you’re going to pay for what you did to my daughter. Now don’t ever ring me again,’ and before he could say any more she cut the line dead.

  For several minutes she stayed where she was, feeling breathless and disoriented and as though the sun had shrunk behind a cloud, even though it continued to dazzle just as brightly. Merely speaking to him had left her feeling soiled, and so angry she was starting to shake.

  Opening up her mobile again, she was about to call Michael when she spotted a note pinned to an apple in the fruit bowl, written in Neve’s familiar hand.

  Hey! Decided to hold party at manor. Wear blue dress we bought in Fenwicks, with sparkly bodice and no straps. I’ve got blue sandals, but have left silver ones for you. Lola’s in her retro hotpants (joke)! Pats rang to say on way from airport and Frank’s driving so they might end up in Cornwall. love me xxx PS: Silver’s being driven over tomorrow for weekend. PPS: Please can I ride her? PPPS: love you. PPPSS: so does Lola. PPPSSS: Can’t think of anything else but knew it would make you laugh!

  Indeed Susannah was smiling, and, wondering how it was possible to love one human being so much, she put the note down and rang Michael.

  ‘Hi, we’re all waiting for you,’ he said when he answered. ‘Or we will be in about half an hour.’

  As she told him about Alan’s call, she walked back through the dining room and into the snug little alcove that she used as a bedroom on the nights she spent here. Neve’s and Lola’s were further along the narrow passageway that ran the length of the house, and the bathroom was the other side of the kitchen.

  When she’d finished he said calmly, but very firmly, ‘Put it out of your mind now. I’ll have spoken to the lawyers by the time you get here, so everything will be taken care of.’

  ‘But if Helen has dropped the charges …’

  ‘If she had, we’d have been told by now. He’s a desperate man who’s playing desperate games, so don’t rise to it. Now, don’t be late, we’re all looking forward to seeing you.’

  After thanking him Susannah rang off, wondering how she’d ever have got through any of this without him.

  Minutes later her phone rang again, and seeing it was Neve she put on a sunny smile as she answered. ‘Hi darling. Everything OK?’

  ‘Yeah, cool,’ Neve assured her. ‘Can you bring my stuff with you when you come? I’m going to stay here tonight. You know what I need. It’s all in the bathroom, apart from my nightie.’

  ‘Of course, your ladyship. Anything else?’

  ‘I don’t think so. You got my note? Did it make you laugh?’

  ‘It did.’

  ‘Actually, there is something else, but I’ll tell you when I get here, because it’s really major.’

  Since her tone was playful Susannah wasn’t worried, only intrigued. ‘Do I get a clue?’ she prompted.

  ‘Um, let me see … No, I don’t think so. You’ll just have to wait. Oh, but I can tell you this, Lola and Binkie have joined a bridge club.’

  ‘But Lola can’t play.’

  ‘Nor can Binkie, but Tom Court, you know, the man who comes to do whatever to the trees? He’s been teaching them, and they’re making up a four next Thursday with some other dude Tom knows. They keep insisting it’s all about cards, but I know it’s just a cover for a seriously hot date. Do you think we should get Lola some new undies?’

  Susannah laughed, and laughed again as she heard Lola say, ‘Don’t waste your money, I won’t be wearing any.’

  ‘She’s such a tart!’ Neve shrieked. ‘Actually, she’s been on the sherry, which I keep telling her isn’t allowed with her blood pressure.’

  ‘One or two won’t hurt,’ Susannah told her. ‘Just make sure she doesn’t get out of hand, we don’t want her attempting the cancan later if she’s not wearing any knicks. Now, I’m getting in the shower. I’ll see you in about half an hour.’

  ‘Chérie, you need to wake up now,’ Frank said softly, giving Pats a gentle shake. Patsy blinked open her eyes and took a moment to remember where she was.

  ‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked, glancing over at her worriedly.

  It took another moment for her to register that. ‘Better, I think,’ she said, and sitting up straighter she reached for the mineral water she’d propped behind the handbrake. ‘Are we there yet?’ she asked, taking in the undulating patchwork of countryside spreading out around them in every shade of green.

  ‘Very soon, so I need you to read me the final directions.’

  Turning to look in the back seat, Patsy smiled to see Jean-Luc still sleeping, his feathery dark lashes fanned over his swarthy cheeks, his thick dark hair matted to his head in the heat. He looked so adorable, all tucked up in his car seat with his favourite teddy on his lap and several other toys around him, that she ferreted out her camera to add yet another shot to the dozen or so she’d already taken.

  Though he’d been a little shy at their first meeting, a couple of days ago, he’d come out of himself enough by now to insist that she should be the one to sit in the back seat of the car with him, not Papa. This was why Frank was driving, and Pats was feeling so grim, having never been a good traveller in the back, so as soon as Jean-Luc was asleep Frank had stopped the car for her to return to the front.

  Now, as she unfolded the printout of directions Susannah had emailed, Patsy yawned, then groaned. Her stomach was still in protest and the water didn’t seem to be helping too much.

  ‘I don’t know about a party, I think I’ll end up going straight to the bathroom, or bed, when we get there,’ she commented. ‘Where are we now?’

  ‘We have just pass through Matlock,’ he informed her. ‘I know I must keep straight for three miles, but I would like you to watch out for the sign, because Susannah says it is un peu caché.’

  A few minutes later, spotting the signpost tilted awkwardly into a hedge, Patsy cried, ‘There it is! Turn left now!’

  Frank hit the brakes, Pats jerked forward and the driver behind swerved dangerously close to a ditch.

  Neither of them spoke as Frank steered the car slowly into a narrow lane and continued to motor on at a leisurely pace.

  Patsy turned to check on Jean-Luc, and was amazed to find that he was not only still in his chair, but still sleeping, though his head was lolling to the other side now and his teddy had fallen out of his lap. Reaching back to pick it up, she held it in her own lap and started to laugh. ‘I swear, out of a nation of crazy drivers, you are the absolute worst,’ she told Frank.

  ‘Merci, chérie,’ he replied modestly, as though she’d just paid him the greatest compliment. ‘And you are the most beautiful passenger, full of calm and encouragement and excellent timing with your directions. I think maybe soon I need some more.’

  Knowing if she kept her head down for more than thirty seconds Frank would be pulling over for her to swerve into a ditch, she scanned the rest of the directions as fast as she could. ‘At the end of this lane there’s a T-junction where we turn right,’ she gabbled, ‘then we go over a humpback bridge and turn immediately left. After that we follow the road for about a mile, with a high stone wall on one side and a stream on the other until we come to a set of huge black iron gates at which point we will have arrived. She says to call when we reach the T and this must be it, coming up. That’s a stop sign, Frank! Frank! Stop!’

  ‘I am stopping.’

  ‘Use the brake!’

  ‘Ah, I knew I was forgetting something.’ Bringing the car to a nice smooth standstill, he said, ‘It is a very good thing you are ’ere, because I would not
know how to stop otherwise.’

  Stifling a laugh, she turned to look out of the window, taking in the picturesque setting of an old Roman bridge and a narrow stony brook bubbling along beneath a sun-dappled canopy of leaves. Moments later she’d connected to Susannah. ‘I think we’re about two minutes away,’ she told her.

  ‘Fantastic. I’ve just arrived myself, so I’ll make sure the gates are open when you get here. Drive straight up to the house and we’ll meet you out front. Is everything OK? How’s Jean-Luc?’

  ‘Asleep at the moment, but he’s very excited about the horses.’

  ‘Excellent. There’s a little Shetland stabled here that belongs to a neighbour, so he can probably ride her. The champagne’s on ice and the guest wing’s ready, so see you in a …’

  ‘We’re here! We’re here!’ Patsy shouted, as a set of black gates slid across her peripheral vision. ‘We’ve gone straight past,’ she informed Frank hotly, hearing Susannah laugh as she rang off.

  Bringing the car to a halt, Frank slipped it into reverse and started to back up. By the time they’d returned to the gates they were gliding open.

  ‘Oh. My. God,’ Patsy murmured as they turned into the drive, hardly able to believe her eyes. ‘This is something else, isn’t it?’

  ‘C’est magnifique,’ Frank agreed. ‘If this is where we spend the next two weeks I might not want to go ’ome again.’

  ‘Me neither,’ she smiled, wondering if there really was a sense of peace and tranquillity emanating from the sun-soaked gardens, or if it was simply her need that was creating it. The whole place seemed to ooze an air of romance and elegance, and she could so easily picture Susannah here, moving like a sylph amongst the fountains and statues, a willowy sensuous figure with shining blonde hair, dressed all in white.

  As they reached the forecourt Jean-Luc started to stir. ‘Papa,’ he said sleepily, ‘j’ai perdu mon teddy.’

  ‘Le voilà,’ Pats said, passing it back to him. ‘Nous sommes arrivés, chéri. Est-ce que tu voudrais du jus et une grande tranche de gâteau?’ We’ve arrived now, sweetheart. Are you ready for some juice and a nice big piece of cake?