CHAPTER FOUR
Laura’s talk with Paul Denver had hardly reassured her, and returning to a household still shattered by Clive Sandilands’ murder in no way helped to restore the balance. During the remainder of that week, the police were in touch with them several times. The post-mortem had revealed nothing new; Clive Sandilands had been in reasonably good health for a man of his age, though his heart was slightly enlarged. Death, due to a knife blade penetrating the cardial cavity, had been instantaneous. There was a bleak comfort in that.
Laura duly presented herself at Edward’s doctor’s surgery and handed over the letter from Dr. Banstead, which he read carefully. Dr. MacIntyre was a tall, quietly spoken Scot with a receding hairline and compassionate brown eyes.
‘And how are you feeling just now, Miss Hardy? Are the headaches any less frequent?’
She hesitated. ‘Yes, they are. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had one since I came to Brocklehurst ten days ago.’
‘Well, that’s very good news. You still seem a trifle tense, though. Is anything else worrying you?’
‘Not really, Doctor.’
‘I heard of your brother’s friend’s death, of course. That must have been an added shock for you.’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re sleeping well?’
‘Quite well.’ She smiled a little. ‘I’m afraid, Doctor, that like the rest of my family I have rather more than my share of imagination. It can be a curse as well as a blessing!’
He smiled back. ‘I’d rather not prescribe sedatives or tranquilizers unless you really need them, but if you do, please don’t hesitate to call me. In the meantime, I’ll drop in to have a look at you occasionally when I’m passing, to satisfy myself you’re making satisfactory progress.’
She nodded and stood up. ‘Thank you.’ For an instant more she hesitated, tempted after all to tell him something of her fears, but he had already pressed the bell for the next patient and her chance had gone.
The funeral took place that Saturday. Edward insisted it was unnecessary for either Laura or Caroline to go, and they were secretly relieved by his decision. He returned from it impressed afresh with Fenella Gray’s calm courage. She had delayed her return to the States by one week in order to attend the inquest the following Monday, and was hoping to leave on the Saturday after that. In the meantime, she had again politely refused his invitation to come to Four Winds.
With their lives so bound up in Clive Sandilands’ tragedy, Laura had completely forgotten that Lewis Castleton was invited to dinner that Friday. Obviously, though, Caroline had not. On Thursday morning Laura looked into the kitchen to find her busily engaged in making pastry. Since Mrs. Baines did most of the cooking, this was unusual enough to cause comment.
‘I’m preparing the first course for tomorrow,’ Caroline replied.
‘Tomorrow?’
She turned, pushing her hair back with her forearm since her hands were covered with flour. ‘Lewis is coming. Had you forgotten?’
‘Oh, of course! Yes, I had, actually.’ She paused. ‘It doesn’t seem quite right, somehow, to be having a dinner party when—’
‘You mean we should observe a period of court mourning?’ Caroline asked sharply. ‘Clive would be the last person to want that. Anyway, it’s hardly a party—only Lewis.’
Laura watched her as she turned back to the pastry board. Lewis Castleton was returning to Four Winds, she told herself deliberately, and waited for the expected tide of apprehension and distaste. Surprisingly, it did not come. In fact—she found it hard to accept—she was aware of a feeling of pleased expectancy. No doubt it was merely the anticipation of an evening which would not be spent gloomily going over the funeral or the inquest.
The following evening as she was changing for dinner, she was suddenly aware of someone watching her and turned sharply, surprised to see that the intruder was a small boy, staring at her with large blue-grey eyes.
‘Hello!’ she said, startled. ‘Are you one of Peter’s friends?’
The child didn’t answer. He seemed puzzled by her presence. After a moment, swinging on the door handle, he said confidentially, ‘Grandma’s dead. I’ve just been in to have a look at her.’
Laura stared at him, uneasiness beginning to prickle her scalp. ‘You must be mistaken,’ she said at last. ‘Your grandmother doesn’t live here.’
‘Of course she doesn’t live here—she’s dead!’ His matter-of-factness and complete absence of grief struck Laura as callous and unchildlike. She said a little more sharply, ‘What’s your name?’
He stared at her for a moment frowningly and then, either bored by the conversation or resentful of her tone, slipped out of the room, and after a moment, rather disconcerted, she went on brushing her hair.
Lewis Castleton had arrived by the time she went down. He and Caroline were standing close together as she opened the sitting-room door and they moved swiftly apart.
‘Oh, there you are, Laura,’ Caroline said a little breathlessly. ‘Edward’s just gone for some ice. Did you—?’ She broke off as Edward himself came in with the ice bowl.
‘Do sit down, Lewis. Now, gin and tonic, wasn’t it?’
‘Thank you. I was just saying how attractive you’ve made this room. I remember it as rather dark and forbidding, with a Victorian horsehair sofa, of all things!’
‘We’ll show you round later. How’s the decorating going?’
‘I’m beginning to see the light at last!’ He leant back in the easy chair, crossing his legs. Once again he was dressed formally and Laura felt that the conventional collar and tie irked him. ‘Didn’t know the place had so many windows, though! I’ll have to forage around to find some curtains. I’ve no wish to live in a goldfish bowl!’
‘I doubt if you’d get many people going past, though,’ Edward remarked. ‘It’s a bit of a dead-end down there, isn’t it?’
Caroline said eagerly, ‘As a matter of fact I’ve a lot of material left over from the curtains I made for this house. I hadn’t realized the fabrics were sixty inches wide. If you let me know your window measurements, I’ll run several pairs up for you.’
‘Oh, look, I really couldn’t—’
‘But why not? Provided the colours fit in with your decor—’
Lewis Castleton laughed briefly: ‘Decor? Rather a grand name for emulsion paint!’
‘Then there’s no problem.’
‘But I can’t take up your time—’
‘I’m a lady of leisure, Lewis,’ Caroline retorted gaily, ‘and my time’s my own! I’m delighted to think the material won’t be wasted after all.’
Laura dragged her eyes away from the two of them to accept the glass Edward handed her. Was he aware of this growing attraction between them? she wondered. If so, he certainly gave no sign of it. She wished there were some way of warning him without saying too much.
‘You have a son of fifteen?’ Lewis was repeating. ‘I don’t believe it.’
Caroline flushed prettily. ‘True, I assure you. And a daughter of thirteen.’
‘Really, Edward, I didn’t know you’d been guilty of cradle-snatching!’
‘I was married just before my twentieth birthday,’ Caroline admitted. ‘Even the baby’s nine now. It makes me feel ancient!’ Her low laugh intimated that it made her feel no such thing.
‘Better not let him hear you refer to him as “the baby’’!’ Edward commented. ‘By the way, where is he?’
‘At Cubs—it’s Friday, remember. If you go and collect him at eight, we can eat as soon as you get back.’
Laura stirred. ‘Peter’s not home? Then why was that other little boy here?’
‘What other little boy?’
‘The one who came to my room while I was dressing. I assumed he’d come back with Peter.’
Caroline said impatiently, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s been no child here this evening.’
‘If Peter’s to be picked up at eight, I’d better go now.’
Edward drained his glass and put it on the cabinet. ‘Shan’t be long.’
He went out of the room and Lewis and Caroline resumed their conversation—about, Laura discovered when she bothered to listen, furniture, curtains, the advantages and otherwise of living in a village. Obviously her reference to the boy upstairs had been dismissed out of hand, but her mind continued to circle round the incident. Possibly he was someone connected with Mrs. Baines who had called at the house without Caroline being aware of it. But his remark about his grandmother—She was glad enough to have the riddle to puzzle over, since it meant she could shut herself away from the low voices across the room.
Edward reappeared in due course and Peter made a dutiful appearance before being sent to the kitchen for milk and biscuits. The anticipation with which, to Laura’s surprise, she had found herself looking forward to this evening evaporated, leaving her flat and depressed. Silently she followed the others into the dining-room, marvelling a little sourly at the care and attention that Caroline had lavished on the room. The massed flowers, the gleaming table and shining glass and silver all combined to give an impression of relaxed well-being and enjoyment and the meal itself was superb. None of which dissipated her growing irritation with Caroline, whose flirtation with her guest was becoming, Laura felt, increasingly blatant. She was even glad when the conversation turned momentarily to Clive Sandilands, since it interrupted their exclusiveness.
‘They didn’t get far at the inquest,’ Edward remarked. ‘ “Murder by a person or persons unknown.” I could have told them that myself.’
‘I was shocked to read about it,’ Lewis Castleton said smoothly. ‘I only met him that once, but he seemed a charming and brilliant man. It’s ironic, really, that he should die like that. Almost as though his preoccupation with violence had somehow rebounded on him.’
‘What a macabre idea!’ Caroline said with a shiver.
‘There’s one thing,’ Edward said; ‘his work won’t be wasted. Fenella says she has all the notes and intends to go ahead and publish the book posthumously.’
‘Fenella?’
‘His assistant, Fenella Gray. She’s collaborated on all his books for the last five years.’
‘I see. I heard him mention his assistant, but I hadn’t realized anyone else was so closely involved with his work. Will she be staying on in this country?’
‘No, she’s flying back to the States tomorrow. She is American, anyway.’
Peter put his head round the door. ‘I’m going up now, Mum.’
‘All right, darling, sleep well.’
Laura said suddenly, ‘Peter, did any of your friends come here this evening? To borrow a schoolbook or anything?’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t think so. ’Night.’ The door closed behind him.
‘For heaven’s sake, Laura, what is this? I told you—’
‘I know what you told me,’ Laura interrupted, ‘but the fact remains that a little boy did come to my room this evening. Actually, it was rather unpleasant. He said his grandmother had died and he’d just been in to see her.’
‘Well, really!’ Caroline began, but Lewis’s voice cut across hers.
‘That’s odd!’ There was a jerky note in his voice. ‘My grandmother died in this house thirty-odd years ago. To the day, in fact, if I remember correctly.’
There was a short, uncomfortable silence, then Edward laughed briefly.
‘I imagine many people’s grandmothers have, over the years.’
‘Yes, but the curious thing is that I sneaked in to see her, just as Laura’s—apparition reported.’
‘Dear God!’ said Caroline faintly.
Laura, tensed and waiting, was concentrating all her attention on Lewis Castleton. The flatness and depression had suddenly gone and she was aware of being on the brink of something strange and exciting. He was staring back at her, registering her, she felt, for the first time, and when he spoke to her, his voice held that note of exclusive attention that he had previously kept for Caroline.
‘What did he look like, Laura, your little boy?’
Like you, she thought, oh, God, like you! ‘He was small and dark,’ she faltered, ‘with blue-grey eyes and’—memory stirred—‘a green hand-knitted sweater.’
‘Yes,’ said Lewis softly, ‘incredibly enough, I remember that sweater.’
‘Great heavens, Lewis!’ Caroline’s voice cracked. ‘I hope you’re not trying to imply that you’re engaged in haunting this house!’
He dragged his eyes momentarily away from Laura. ‘Oh, nonsense. But it was my home once, remember. ‘It’s rather nice to think there’s still a part of me here. Still, I can hardly haunt you, can I, when I’m very much alive.’
‘But your childhood isn’t,’ Laura said unexpectedly, and their eyes turned with a fearful fascination back to her. She felt obliged to elaborate and went on a little uncertainly. ‘There’s no reason why spirits should always be as they were at the moment of death, surely? I was discussing various theories of time with Paul the other day. If, as some people believe, time is running continuously on different levels, then we’d all have several “ghosts” to our credit, wouldn’t we, of the past and of the future and therefore both older and younger than we happen to be at this present moment?’
‘How chilling!’ Edward said softly. He glanced across at his wife’s white, frightened face and reached for his glass. ‘Well, all I can say, Lewis, is that I’d be grateful if you’d refrain from allowing your alter ego to alarm my sister!’
‘Your sister doesn’t seem to be unduly alarmed,’ Lewis said, his eyes still thoughtfully on Laura. ‘Could it have been the little boy who showed you the trees?’
‘No,’ she answered seriously. ‘I had never seen him before.’
Caroline’s chair scraped back. ‘For God’s sake stop them, Edward! Are they mad, or am I?’ She was almost in tears.
‘Yes, that’s enough, you two.’ Edward lifted the decanter. ‘More wine, Lewis?’
‘No, really, thank you. That was an excellent meal, Caroline.’
‘Coffee’s in the sitting-room,’ she said stiffly. She rose from the table and, without waiting for them, went quickly from the room. After a moment’s hesitation Laura followed her and as she reached the hall, Caroline’s fingers dug painfully into her arm.
‘I hope you’re satisfied, now that you’ve ruined my evening!’
‘But, Caroline, I didn’t—really. I’m sure no one—’
‘Just like a nasty little child who hasn’t been getting enough attention!’
‘Very well, I’ll leave you to have your coffee in peace. Please say good night to Lewis for me.’
Astonished at her own composure, Laura ran lightly up the stairs, rounding the bend just as the men came out into the hall below. As she pushed open her bedroom door, the strangely buoyant confidence that had been with her for the last few minutes exploded into a brief, illuminating burst of sheer happiness. It lasted only a second, but she slept more soundly that night than at any time since the crash.
Before he left for work the next morning, Edward phoned Fenella to wish her bon voyage and to ask her to let them know if they could be of any help. The weekend stretched rather flatly ahead and Laura, uncomfortable in the face of Caroline’s continuing coolness, was relieved when Paul Denver phoned.
‘Do you feel up to the cinema and supper afterwards?’
‘I’d love it, Paul. Thanks.’
In the moment of meeting, his keen glance raked her face. ‘How are things?’
She pulled the car door shut. ‘All right.’
‘Did you go to the doctor?’
‘Yes. He didn’t say much.’
‘And what did you say?’
She smiled. ‘Not much either!’
‘As I feared! And what else have you been doing since I last saw you?’
‘Lewis Castleton came for dinner last night.’
‘Oh, dear, and I wasn’t there to hold your hand! How did it go?’
She gave a little shudder. ‘It was strange, Paul. I can’t describe it. At the time, I was actually glad he was there!’
‘Well, that’s certainly a surprise!’
‘But I don’t understand it. I still dislike him intensely. Just thinking about him now makes my flesh crawl. And yet last night—’ She shrugged helplessly.
‘What actually happened?’
‘I rather think I must have had another one of my “time lapses”, and as usual Lewis was tied up with it.’ She went on to tell him as factually as she could of the little boy’s appearance and Castleton’s interpretation of it. ‘Is it feasible, Paul?’ she finished. ‘Could he have been a ghost out of time? The idea gave Caroline hysterics, and I must admit in the clear light of day it sounds ludicrous, but last night, with Lewis just across the table, it seemed the obvious solution.’
Paul said slowly, ‘God knows, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s some connection between you, though I’m damned if I know what it is. I don’t like it, Laura. All these—manifestations, for want of a better word, seem to have the effect of drawing you closer together. The dream you won’t tell me about made you aware of him in the first place, and the business about the trees made him aware of you. Now this—’
‘Yes,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I see what you mean. I hadn’t thought of it like that. It’s almost as though, against our will, something’s pulling us together.’
‘What about that unhappy aura you were conscious of in the house? Are you still aware of it?’
‘We’ve all been so depressed about Mr. Sandilands lately that a bit more misery wouldn’t have been very noticeable.’ She paused. ‘Actually, though—’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s ridiculous, really, but it did strike me last night that she was actually happy for a change.’
‘ “She”?’
‘ “It,” then.’ She shivered. ‘Can we talk about something else?’
‘All right. I just wish, though, that there was some way of ensuring that you needn’t see Castleton again.’
* * *
Caroline, having ascertained the measurements of Lewis’s windows when he phoned to thank her for Friday, spent most of the weekend making curtains, and the fifth pair was duly finished on Tuesday morning. That evening she phoned him to arrange when to take them round. The obvious step of his calling himself to collect them was never even mentioned, Laura noted wryly.
Laura Possessed Page 5
