by Amy M. Reade
“You should send Brenda out to the coach house to make sure everything is ready for her,” Annabel said. The coach house was the guesthouse. In days gone by it had been used to store carriages, but as the castle made its way through the twentieth century the coach house fell into shambles from disuse. One of the pet projects of Annabel’s second husband had been to restore the building and turn it into a beautiful place for guests to stay. Annabel had wanted all her boys and Sian and Cadi to stay in the main house with her, so my guest would have the coach house all to herself.
I left Annabel in the sitting room and went in search of Brenda. When she had brought breakfast into the dining room earlier she had seemed subdued and I wondered how she was doing today. I found her talking to Maisie downstairs. Again, her eyes were red-rimmed and she was sniffling.
“Have I come at a bad time?” I asked.
Maisie crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ve come at a perfect time. I was just telling Brenda to get back to work.” She looked pointedly at her daughter, who looked away. A red flush made its way up the back of her neck under her ponytail and I could tell how embarrassed she was.
“Brenda, I was hoping you could run out to the coach house to make sure everything is ready for my cousin. She’s going to be here tonight around dinnertime.”
Brenda nodded and left the room quickly. I looked at Maisie, wondering if she would tell me what was going on. I suspected Brenda was upset because Andreas was nowhere to be found, but I couldn’t be sure.
Maisie grimaced and started wiping down one of the kitchen counters. “That girl of mine. She doesn’t know enough to come in out of the cold. Can’t she see the problems Andreas brings?” This was the first time I had heard Maisie mention Andreas’s name in connection with Brenda, and I was surprised to hear her say it.
“Poor girl,” I murmured.
“Poor girl nothing,” she retorted. “She needs to pick herself up and get on with her life.” She snorted. “How she can think Andreas can solve all her problems, I don’t know. Seems to me he’s the cause of most of ’em.”
“Maybe once she grows up a little she’ll realize the folly of chasing after Andreas.”
“Humph,” was all Maisie said.
I was in my room on the computer when Brenda knocked on my door. “The coach house is ready, Eilidh,” she said. “I put the pretty soaps and the best towels in the powder room.”
“Thank you, Brenda. I’m sure everything is perfect. You’ll like my cousin. She’s lots of fun.”
Brenda smiled in reply and closed the door. I had wanted to question her about Andreas, but there was really no way I could without seeming nosy.
I closed my laptop and sat in front of the cold fireplace to read a book for a little while. Working for Annabel was rewarding in many ways, and I liked that the job gave me some downtime to do things I enjoyed, like reading. Annabel was also slowly teaching me to ride, which I loved.
After a while I got up to get some tea. When I opened my door I could hear the hikers coming inside from their afternoon on the trail. I went to greet them.
“How was the hike?” I asked.
“Cold,” Cadi said. Her cheeks were ruddy. “Unbearably cold, actually. I wished I had taken gloves.”
Hugh came up behind her. “Did you have fun, Hugh?” I asked.
“It was better than I expected,” he said. “Cadi here didn’t like it as much as I thought she would, but that’s normal, isn’t it, Cadi?” He jabbed her in the ribs and she scowled at him.
“I liked it fine,” she said. “I just wished it was a bit warmer, that’s all.” Her complaining was becoming tiresome to me, and I’d only been around her a wee bit since her arrival the day before. I didn’t know how Hugh could stand it on a daily basis.
“Rhisiart enjoyed it,” Hugh said. “If you’re looking for praise, perhaps you’ll get it from him.”
I turned away and went down to the kitchen, annoyed that he would assume I had been “looking for praise” for setting up the hike. I was merely asking if they had fun to be polite. And to make sure they didn’t have a miserable time. I was beginning to realize that Cadi often had a miserable time and actually preferred things that way.
Maisie had announced that dinner would be served at six o’clock, so we all gathered in the dining room a few minutes before six. Annabel was late, which was unusual for her. Right at six o’clock, Maisie brought a platter of salmon into the dining room and set it on the table. “This will be getting cold quickly,” she said, attempting to nudge us to the table.
But Annabel wasn’t there yet. Hugh looked at me for guidance. “Do we wait for Mum or can we sit down and eat before the fish gets cold?”
“I think she would want us to eat without her, but I’m going to see where she is. She’s usually punctual.” Hugh and Cadi, Rhisiart, and Sian all sat down at the table. I was turning around to leave the room when Annabel appeared in the doorway.
Her hair, normally neat and pretty, was spiky and disheveled. It looked like she had run her hands through it. Her eyes were wild and her hands, one of which held a mobile phone, were trembling.
“Somebody help me,” she said hoarsely. We all hurried toward her at once.
“What’s wrong, Mum?” Rhisiart asked, his eyes wide and concerned. He held one arm while Hugh took the other and together the two men helped her to the table, where she sat down heavily. The mobile phone she had been holding dropped to the floor. I bent down to pick it up and saw that the line had gone dead.
“Annabel, what happened?” I asked, kneeling down next to her. Cadi and Sian stood next to me.
“I just rang off with a friend of mine in the village. The police found a body in the river.” Annabel’s skin was dry and a ghostly shade of white. “It’s Andreas. I just know it.”
Sian gasped and we turned to look at her. Hugh took one step and was at her side in an instant to ease her into a chair. Annabel watched with a grim expression.
“How do you know it was Andreas?” Cadi asked as we all turned our attention back to Annabel.
“I just know. I just have this feeling,” Annabel answered.
“You can’t know, Mum,” Hugh said in an irritated voice. “You aren’t a soothsayer.”
“But I’m a mother,” she told him, her eyes finally losing the dead look and blazing at him. “I have a mother’s intuition. I know it was him.” She turned to Sian with a sad look. “I’m sorry, Sian. I just had to come down here and tell everyone.”
Sian swallowed and took a deep breath. “Can someone please ring the police? We don’t know any of this is true.”
As if it had become a living thing that could hear and understand us, Annabel’s mobile phone rang in my hand. We all looked at each other. “Eilidh, would you please answer that?” Annabel asked.
I pushed the “talk” button. A male voice asked to speak to Annabel. “Just a moment, please,” I said. I covered the speaker with my hand and held the phone out to Annabel. “He wants to speak to you.”
“Who is it?” Hugh asked. Annabel silenced him with a look.
“Who is this, please?” I asked the man.
“Fred Straither.”
I covered the speaker again and repeated his name to Annabel in a low voice. She looked up at me with scared eyes. “He’s the one who told me about the body,” she said.
“Do you want to talk to him?” I asked. She held out her hand and I placed the phone in it.
“Hello, Fred.” She listened for a moment, her breathing becoming shallower and the last of the color draining from her face. She gave me the phone and pointed to it. “You talk to him,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “I just can’t!” she cried.
Sian had begun to stand up, but Hugh put his hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back into the chair. “Fred, this is Eilidh, Annabel’s assistant. She’s asked me to
talk to you.”
His voice seemed louder than it had before, probably because of the complete silence in the dining room where we all stood. “I’ve just talked to one of the constables in the village. They’re saying the body is Andreas, Annabel’s son. Why would they be saying such a thing?”
“Andreas has been missing today, Fred. I hope the constable was wrong. I’m going to ring up the police now and try to find out what’s going on. Thanks for calling.”
I ended the call and dialed the police immediately, without waiting for anyone to ask questions or demand an explanation.
Once a constable was on the phone, I explained who I was and repeated the rumor Fred had shared with me and Annabel. The officer said he couldn’t talk to me and needed to speak with a family member. I glanced at Annabel, who looked as if she were about to faint, and Sian, whose gray pallor concerned me. I handed the phone to Rhisiart.
“This is Rhisiart Tucker,” he said, his voice sounding authoritative and strong. “What’s going on here?”
He listened attentively for a moment, his countenance growing graver. Finally he said, “Thank you. Someone will be there soon.”
He rang off and knelt down next to his mother. “The constable says the body found in the river does look like Andreas. He would like you or Sian to go down to the village to have a look at it.”
Annabel looked at her son with something akin to horror in her face. She shook her head vehemently. “I can’t. I can’t do that.”
Rhisiart looked at Sian. “Sian,” he said gently, “do you think you could go down to the village? Hugh or I will drive you.”
Sian had been staring straight ahead, not saying a word, while Rhisiart was on the phone and talking to Annabel. “Yes,” she said after a long pause.
Hugh held out his hand to her and she allowed him to help her to stand up. She looked down at Annabel. “I’ll be back soon.”
Annabel stood up and hugged Sian, the tears starting to fall.
Sian pried herself away from Annabel and said to her, “Not yet, Annabel. It might not be him. Let’s hope it’s someone else.” Cadi wore a shocked look. Suddenly she ran from the room, saying over her shoulder that she would get Sian’s coat for her. She was back in just a minute, then she stood behind her sister-in-law and helped her with the coat. She was gentle and kind, wisely shedding her abrasiveness for a few moments. Hugh ran outside to get his car before speeding away toward the village with Rhisiart and Sian. Cadi and Annabel and I were left in the sitting room, silent, wondering what news the trio would bring back with them.
Though we drank quite a lot of tea that evening, none of us felt like eating. Maisie came to clear away the fish and the unused dishes and to fill the teapot with hot water frequently. It seemed forever before the big front door creaked open and Sian, accompanied on either side by Hugh and Rhisiart, appeared in the doorway to the dining room, her face red and swollen, her nose puffy.
“It’s him,” she said with a sob, sitting down in the empty chair next to Annabel. Annabel looked like someone had punched her. Stunned, she reached for Sian’s hand.
“You’re absolutely sure?” she asked. Sian lifted her head to stare at her mother-in-law.
“Of course I’m sure. I’d know my own husband!” Her cries became louder and more wretched. Annabel was crying now, too, making a moaning noise that I never want to hear again as long as I live. It was a keening animal sound, the sound of a mother who has just learned of the death of her son.
“I don’t believe it,” she repeated again and again. “He was just here last night!”
Sian was having a hard time catching her breath. Hugh and Rhisiart looked at each other, clearly not knowing what to do next. Cadi stepped in and put her hand on Sian’s back.
“You need to take slow, deep breaths, Sian. There, that’s it. Slow down. Make the exhale longer than the inhale. That’s it.” With Cadi’s coaching, Sian was finally able to calm down enough to breathe normally.
Annabel appeared to be in shock. She shook her head as if to clear it of some unpleasant thought and walked over to the window, where she looked out over the fields that were hidden by the darkness. Hugh and Rhisiart again exchanged glances. Rhisiart joined his mother at the window, putting his arm around her thin shoulders and pulling her close to him. She leaned against him and I could see her shoulders shaking from her sobs. She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. “What was he doing in the river? He couldn’t have drowned. He was a strong swimmer. I don’t know why he would have gone down to the river at all.” Rhisiart could only shake his head.
“I don’t know, Mum,” he replied.
I felt like I shouldn’t be there, like I was intruding on the family’s grief. But I didn’t want to leave and have them think I didn’t care or didn’t want to be around them.
I didn’t want to go to Annabel yet—her son was comforting her and I wasn’t entirely sure any comfort from me would be welcome. Annabel and I had become close during my time in the castle, but as close as we might be, I wasn’t family. She needed her family.
It was this macabre scene that greeted Sylvie when she arrived at the castle just a short while later. In all the sadness and shock, I had forgotten she was coming. The great doorbell sounded through the halls and running feet, no doubt Brenda, could be heard heading toward the front door. A moment later Brenda stood in the dining room doorway, looking bewildered by the silence punctuated by cries.
“Uh, your guest is in the great hall, Eilidh. Do you want her to come in here?” Annabel turned away from the window and spoke to me.
“This is probably not the best place for her right now. Maybe you could show her to the coach house and I’ll see her tomorrow.”
“Of course,” I replied, glad of an excuse to leave the family to their grief.
I left the dining room with Brenda and pulled the doors closed behind me. “What’s the matter?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“They just found out Andreas passed away.” The words were out before I remembered Brenda’s relationship to Andreas. She stopped as if she had hit an invisible wall and put her hands to her mouth.
“No!” she cried out.
“Brenda, pull yourself together. I probably was out of line by telling you. I just blurted it out without thinking. The family needs us to be strong right now because they’re in shock. If we fall apart it won’t help anyone and it will definitely make the family more upset.”
She nodded, unable to speak. Then I watched as she turned on her heel and ran toward the stairs leading down to the kitchen. Maisie would have her hands full tonight.
My breath caught in my throat when I saw Sylvie waiting for me in the great hall, dressed in her customary jeans and boots, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. It had been a long time since our last visit and it never ceased to amaze me how much she looked like her sister, Greer, with shoulder-length brown hair and slim features. I held my finger to my lips and gave her a big hug, then led her quickly outside the front door.
“What’s going on?” Sylvie asked.
“You’ll never believe it. Andreas, Annabel’s son, died. He’s been missing since this morning.”
“What?” she cried. “What happened?”
“We don’t know. His body was found in the river that winds through the village. I don’t know any more than that.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” she said.
“Oh, please stay,” I said, almost begging. “I don’t want to intrude on the family and I need someone to keep my mind off things. You being here is perfect.”
“But Annabel won’t want me to stay.”
“I really don’t think she’ll mind. She’s putting you in the coach house. It’s been renovated and you’ll love it. She did say she isn’t ready to see you tonight, but she’ll see you tomorrow. She wants you to stay.”
Sylvie looked dubiou
s. “If you’re sure,” she said with a note of uncertainty.
“I’m sure. Let me show you where the coach house is.”
She followed me around the front of the castle to a long stone pathway that led from the left side of the castle to the coach house, which was at least a tenth of a mile away. She pulled a suitcase behind her.
I unlocked the door to the coach house and my cousin stepped into the salon with a gasp of delight. The soaring ceilings, with their original rafters, were dotted with hanging pendant lights giving the salon a soft glow. A massive fireplace at one end of the room, cold and dark now, would be providing comfort and warmth in just a few minutes. In contrast to the inside of the castle, which was decorated and furnished with a heavy nod to its ancient history, the coach house had been renovated with a view toward comfort and modernity. Ivory and beige furniture was placed around the salon in groupings designed to foster intimate conversation. Occasional tables were thoughtfully placed within reach of every seat in the room so guests always had a place to set their beverages and snacks. Three low tables covered with coffee table books and Welsh-themed bric-a-brac were placed strategically around the huge room. The effect was airy and light, even though darkness cloaked the floor-to-ceiling windows circling the salon.
I showed Sylvie to her room and her bathroom. She was just as impressed with the private areas of the coach house. The rooms were generously and thoughtfully appointed with every amenity a guest could need or want, and I knew she was thrilled with the sleeping arrangements. She could visit the castle anytime she wished, but she could always return to the homey comfort of the coach house.
The kitchen, though modern and sleek, wouldn’t get much use while my cousin visited. Annabel had already made clear that she wished her to take her meals with me and the rest of the family in the castle dining room and Sylvie liked that idea. Sylvie was not the cook in her household—her husband, Seamus, was the gourmet.
While I started a fire in the salon, Sylvie deposited her bags in the bedroom. I went in search of a bottle of wine and found one in a small wine refrigerator built into the kitchen cabinets. When I had located two wineglasses and some fresh cheese and crackers, Sylvie joined me by the fireplace.
