Hester sat back in her chair, exhausted by her recital, her eyes closed, but she was frowning as she continued to think things through. Jonah watched her silently, and Clio, knowing now that the misunderstandings were cleared up, slipped away to the kitchen to make some tea.
'But why?' asked Hester at last. 'I still can't quite see why Lucy jumped to the conclusion that Edward was dead.'
'Because Eleanor told her that he was. She told her that Michael had killed him and that she must never breathe a word to anyone or he would be taken away to prison. She saw Edward go into the river, and Michael run out over the bridge for help, and heard you call him back. Then she ran back upstairs as the three of you came back indoors. She didn't know you'd pulled Edward out. She has believed all these years that Michael was a murderer and a coward. That, having killed Edward, you and Eleanor persuaded him to run away.'
Hester sat in silence, her face sad. 'Poor little Lucy,' she said at last. 'How very terrible. How she must have hated us! No wonder she didn't want to talk about it. And now?' Her face altered as she looked at him. 'And you, Jonah? You believed it too?'
He opened his hands in a gesture of despair. 'What else could I do? I went straight from you to Chichester and told Mum what you'd told me. You never mentioned pulling Edward from the river and so she thought you were still covering up. I told her that we were thinking of making a play of the story and it was then that she told me what she thought was the truth. I admit I was horrified and neither of us knew what to do next.'
'How she must have hated us,' repeated Hester quietly. 'How very terrible. Why should Eleanor have done such a thing?'
Jonah shrugged. 'I can't imagine. What motive could Eleanor have had to lie? That's why Mum believed her, I suppose. There was no reason not to, and she'd seen Edward go into the river.'
Clio came in with the tray and put it on the revolving table. 'I've been thinking about that too,' she said. 'Ever since you told me, Jonah, I've been trying to think why Eleanor should do such a thing. The only reason for that kind of lie to a child is to make her behave; to do what you want her to. It was a threat to make Lucy behave. Could that be it?'
'She said she didn't want to go,' Jonah remembered. 'She got back into bed and curled up small and when Eleanor came in she pretended to be asleep. Eleanor told her they were going to London but Mum refused to get up. She struggled with Eleanor and that's when she told Mum that her father had killed Edward and if she didn't do as she was told he would go to prison. Something like that.'
'There you are then.' Clio was triumphant. 'That's the sort of thing I meant. She wanted Lucy to get up and do as she was told, double-quick. She was determined to get her own way and used the means at hand to force Lucy into action. I doubt she gave it a thought afterwards.'
'I suspect that Eleanor saw her chance and seized it.' Hester was thinking back into the past. 'She might well have even set the scene in the first place, hoping that Edward would see her and Michael together. I know that she'd had enough of pretending and I suspect that Michael had put her off for too long, using the excuse of keeping Lucy here as a shield. When Eleanor saw the opportunity she made the most of it and she certainly wouldn't have allowed Lucy to get in the way after that. It didn't do her much good. Michael was dead within a few months. But Lucy . . .' Hester shook her head sadly. 'To think of her living with such memories for all these years.'
'But not for much longer.' Jonah put his cup and saucer down. 'Do you think I could make a telephone call, Hester?'
'Of course you can.' Hester hesitated. 'Should I . . . ?'
He shook his head, smiling at her. 'Not just yet. I think she'll need time to adjust to it.'
He went out. Hester looked at Clio, dazed.
'It was a wicked thing to do,' said Clio. 'Eleanor must have been a monster.'
'I never liked her,' admitted Hester. 'But even so, I can hardly believe it of her. I suppose she had no idea of the damage. Oh, poor Lucy. She adored her father. What a terrible burden she's carried. Thank God Jonah came here, Clio. She might never have known the truth.'
'And nor might he. Is he like Michael, Hester?'
'Very like him physically, as you saw from the photograph. And he's inherited his creative instinct but I would guess that he's probably tougher emotionally. Why do you ask?'
'Oh, no reason,' answered Clio lightly. 'Just interested to know what Michael was like. I'm really hooked now, you know.'
Hester smiled. 'Yes,' she said. 'I can see that.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
For Jonah, there was a sense of déjà vu as Clio drove him to Michaelgarth. This time he was less aware of the countryside through which they drove, though he still had the impression of light and water; yet his mind ran continually on the joyful knowledge that he could think well of his grandfather again and that he could allow his natural feelings for him full rein. At the same time he was conscious of a sense of frustration. His mother's reaction had not been the unrestrained joy he'd wished for her and he was disappointed; almost cross.
'What do you mean?' she'd asked him sharply. 'What has Hester said? I was there, remember. Did you tell her that?'
It was almost as if she hadn't wanted to believe the truth; as if she saw this new explanation as some kind of trick or deception.
'But Edward didn't die, Mum,' he'd repeated. 'He didn't die until over two years later. Clio told me that before I even saw Hester. Clio is Hester's god-daughter and she told me how Edward and Hester lived together after the war. Hester and Michael pulled Edward out of the river after you'd gone back to bed, that's why you didn't know anything about it, and they all agreed that it was right that the three of you should go. He didn't run away, Mum, and he didn't kill Edward. Aren't you pleased? I am. I feel as if someone's taken a millstone off my back.'
'But why should Eleanor lie?' she'd asked indignantly, rather as if she actually thought it more likely that Eleanor was being wrongly accused than that Michael was what she'd always believed him to be.
Now, as he and Clio drove up the steep road that led onto Winsford Common, Jonah experienced again the flash of irritation with which he'd responded to this question.
'I don't know why,' he'd cried. 'You can probably answer that better than I can. The point is that Michael wasn't a murderer or a coward. That's got to be good news, hasn't it? Isn't that what's been eating you up all these years?'
'Yes,' she'd said, after a short silence. 'Yes, of course.' Her voice had been subdued. 'It's just such a shock. I simply can't believe that Eleanor should have been so wicked.'
'Sorry, Mum,' he'd said penitently. 'I didn't mean to shout at you. I just thought you'd be so pleased. It's a bit of a shock, I can see that. Would you like to speak to Hester?'
'No,' she'd answered quickly. 'No, I need to think about it, Jonah. Try to understand. Tell her . . . oh, I don't know. Tell her I'm glad and that we'll speak soon.'
He'd been disappointed, hoping perhaps that she and Hester might have had a moment of reconciliation, and he'd had the feeling that Hester had hoped for it too, though she'd managed to cover her disappointment quickly.
'There will be time for that later,' she'd said. 'The important thing is that the truth has been discovered.' She'd kissed him goodbye; the first time he'd ever seen her display any great emotion. 'I'm so glad you came back, Jonah,' she'd said.
Clio was aware of him beside her, shifting in his seat, staring out unseeingly over the common, and she guessed at the reason for his dissatisfaction. She'd seen his expression when he returned from making the phone call and wondered what Lucy had said.
'It must have been a great shock for your mum,' she hazarded. 'After all these years. I think I'd want to search Eleanor down and kill her if it were me. I'd like to slap her about a bit and watch her suffer.'
He grimaced wryly. 'I suppose it was a bit optimistic to think that she'd feel like I do. She couldn't quite take it in.'
'Well, that's natural, isn't it? It's different for you. Correct m
e if I've got it wrong but you've only just got to know Michael, haven't you? I mean you've known he was a soldier and that he was blown up and things like that, but it's Hester who's made him come alive for you. You've believed he killed Edward for how long? Two months? OK. Now you know the truth and it's not too much of an adjustment. You'd begun to love him, you said, and now you can go right on with that. But your mum has lived with it for nearly sixty years. Remember how you felt for two months and you never even met him? Well, this was sixty years, Jonah! Most of her life. She's had to think about it, deal with it, all that time – and now, suddenly, it's all changed. It's not true. I don't think it would be too easy just to say, "Wow! Great! So that's that then!" I'd be bloody angry, like I said. Someone else has spoiled her life, like they've stained it or something, or irreparably damaged it. You don't wipe that kind of pain out with one telephone call.'
Jonah looked at her with relief and affection. He thought: I really like her. She's so easy to be with. I don't have that feeling I usually have with women, that if I make a particular move or say a certain thing I'm liable to transgress some unwritten rule that I should have had the sensitivity to know about without being told.
'I didn't quite see it that way,' he admitted. 'I was too busy being thankful that I could just go on feeling good about him.'
Clio thought: I really like him. I feel I've known him for ever. I suppose that could be a problem. I don't want to start feeling sisterly . . .
'And now you can go on and write your screenplay,' she said, grinning. 'That's what it's all about really. I know you creative types. You're quite ruthless.'
He laughed. 'I must admit that I've never allowed the truth to spoil a good story,' he chuckled, 'but this was just a tad different. Oh God, and now I've got to face Lizzie.'
'Lizzie's fine,' she reassured him. 'She just wants her event to work well.'
'And you've been helping her.' He glanced sideways at her. 'I've been too preoccupied to ask how you are. I gather you've quit London.'
'That's right. It wasn't going anywhere so I've started up my own business in lifestyle management, seeing that I'm such a bossy-boots.'
He settled in his seat, relaxing. 'Far be it from me to contradict a lady. So how did you start? What gave you the idea for it?'
As they drove through Winsford and out towards the valley road, Clio told him about Piers' contact and how, through him, she'd met her first clients.
'They're quite sweet really,' she said. 'Rather insecure with all this new dosh but definitely "if you've got it flaunt it" types and they clearly feel they can trust me. Probably because I have no difficulty at all in telling them how they ought to be doing things. They like my confident approach. She told me that I'm what they describe as a "class act". I'm organizing decorators and plumbers and masses of other stuff. They found the house rather more quickly than they bargained for and they'd already got a cruise booked so I'm looking after it all for them while they're away. They want to give a party when they get back so plenty more work there. I couldn't have found a better way to start. Only time will tell whether I can actually make a living like this. If not I'll pack it all in and go back to London.'
He watched her admiringly. 'I admire your courage,' he said. 'It must be scary to go it alone.'
'It is a bit. But being with Hester has given me the space to try it. I can't rely on her much longer – she's moving, as you know – but it's giving me enough time to find my feet. These clients are taking up nearly all of my time, and I've got Lizzie as well, of course, but I might have to get a parttime job in due course to help pay the bills until I'm properly up and running.'
Watching her, he had the unsettling, almost painful, sensation of knowing exactly where his heart was located, and he folded his arms lest he should be tempted to reach out and touch her arm.
'So what is your business called?' he asked. 'The Angel in the House? Fairy Godmothers, Inc.?'
She chuckled. 'You can mock but it was really difficult to come up with anything remotely reasonable. The first thing I had to do was to open a bank account for the company so I had to think of something quickly. It kept me awake at nights, racking my brains for ideas. I kept a pad and pencil beside the bed ready to jot down names. And then I suddenly had this thought that when we were all talking about it we kept saying 'It's all about making time for people to do things; to get on with their lives. Giving them time for other more important things than waiting in for the plumber or planning a party. Giving them time for . . . See? So that's what I called it, Time For, except I use the figure 4 instead of the word. I checked the Internet to see if anyone was using it as a web address and nobody was so that was that.'
'Time 4,' he repeated, trying it out. 'Very neat.'
'A friend of mine in London is working on the website for me,' she said enthusiastically. 'She's starting a web design company so we agreed that she'd design my website for a nominal fee if I would be her first client and reference. I'm writing my own copy for the website and I've got a contact who's designing the logo for me. It's terrific fun, actually, and Piers put me in touch with his accountant to explain about submitting a business plan to the bank and being self-employed. That side of it's a bit mind-blowing, I have to admit.'
'But you're enjoying it?'
She nodded. 'I am. The next thing is to look for something to rent ready for when Hester sells Bridge House. It'll have to be very small, that's all I can say!'
'Hester must be really gutted about moving.' He suddenly remembered her expression when he'd come back from the telephone call. 'I hope Mum will feel that she can talk to her soon.'
'Hester will understand,' Clio told him. 'Really she will. Just relax, Jonah.'
'I will,' he said. 'Honestly, I will. I'm going to concentrate on all the ways I can use this new business Time 4. Picking me up from railway stations, getting scripts sorted out, choosing presents . . . Are you staying at Michaelgarth for dinner this evening?'
'Yes,' she answered, slightly surprised by the change of direction. 'Why?'
'Oh, nothing,' he said lightly, concealing his pleasure. 'I just wondered.'
After they'd gone, Hester found that she was as unsettled as she'd been before they'd arrived. She could hardly believe that Lucy had been labouring under such an appalling misapprehension for the greater part of her life, and again and again she remonstrated with herself for neglecting her after Michael's death and Eleanor's departure for America.
'I should have written again,' she murmured. 'I shouldn't have left it to a child of four or five to decide whether she wanted to be reminded of the past. I shouldn't have simply assumed that she was happy with Michael's aunt.'
She piled more logs onto the fire, made more tea, and then wandered about aimlessly, wondering exactly how Lucy had reacted to the unexpected telephone call. It had been clear from Jonah's expression that she'd received the news with mixed emotions; clear too that she was not ready to talk.
'And I can't blame her,' muttered Hester, pausing to stroke St Francis, gaining a small measure of comfort from the mechanical, smoothing action. 'What a shock it must have been. Oh, how she must have hated us all.'
Presently she sat down at the table in the breakfast-room and began a letter to Blaise, explaining the terrible misunderstanding and Jonah's reaction to the truth.
You came closest to it when you suggested that Eleanor might have turned Lucy against us once they were all in London, though it never occurred to me for a single second that she might believe such a terrible thing. Why should it? I didn't even know that Lucy had witnessed the fight. Jonah is clearly relieved that he can continue in his good opinion of his grandfather but I gather that Lucy isn't yet ready to rejoice. And who shall blame her! I wish I knew what to do but I am afraid to interfere and feel that the ball should be left in her court to respond to when she thinks the time is right. Yet that was the attitude I took all those years ago, and see where it got us all. Perhaps I should write to her.
Oh, it was
so good to see Jonah again, Blaise. I thank God he came back. To think that he too might have carried that terrible burden all his life. I can only imagine that Eleanor saw her opportunity and was determined that Lucy wasn't going to stand in her way of getting Michael to herself at last. She probably had no real idea of the damage she was doing; Eleanor was always a very self-centred woman – tunnel vision, they'd call it now – and she had no imagination. Jonah told us that Lucy didn't want to leave Bridge House that night, and that she defied Eleanor and said she wouldn't go. I suspect that Eleanor just said the first thing she could think of that would make Lucy obey her.
I am in an odd state of shock, though it is a relief to have Jonah's silence explained. What a comfort Clio has been to both of us. She and Jonah are becoming attached to one another but it is too early to be sure how they truly feel. She's looking for some small flat or cottage to rent in Dulverton and I've decided to put Bridge House on the market at last. Perhaps that will galvanize me into taking positive action as to what to do next. Yet I still feel that there is something else to do before I leave: it's a strong feeling that Bridge House has some final part to play in this small drama. I should like to think that Lucy might come to see me, just once before I go, but it is probably asking far too much. I must be glad that Jonah has come back.
With love,
Hester
PS. I can't get over the horror of Lucy living with this ghastly thing for all these years.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
In the cathedral, outside the chapel of St John the Baptist, Lucy stood staring up at the Chagall window with its vivid jewel colours and strange animals and the winged people playing all kinds of instruments. She glanced at the plaque below the window which proclaims, 'O praise God in his holiness . . . let everything that has breath praise the Lord', and indeed it looked as if all the oddlooking creatures were rejoicing in some way. She wished that she too could rejoice: she knew that it was incumbent upon her to rejoice, to be grateful and happy now that she knew that a lifetime's truth had all been a terrible mistake and that Eleanor had lied.
Memories Of The Storm Page 24
