Читать книгу The Drowned Woman - Terry Thomas Lynn - Страница 11

Chapter 3

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My husband’s tension level increased with each step, so by the time we reached the sitting room where everyone had gathered, he was coiled like a panther, ready to spring. The energy flowed off the arm that I held and coursed through me, as we followed the sound of clinking glass and the low murmur of voices. We entered a large room with whitewashed walls, which gave the spacious room a gleaming brightness, accentuated by the large picture window. Through it, the sun set in purple and red streaks. Daphne held a champagne flute while Simon filled it. She gazed at Toby, who was busy with a vast collection of toy soldiers.

‘You look gorgeous,’ Daphne said, smiling as she walked over to me. ‘Pour Sarah champagne, Simon.’ She put her arm around me, as though she wanted to tell me a secret. Zeke went over to Simon and busied himself with his own drink.

‘I see Helen has done your hair.’

‘She also mended my clothes. She is very talented,’ I said.

‘Helen is a marvel,’ Simon said. He handed me a flute full of bubbly liquid, took a sterling silver cigarette case from his pocket, and made a fuss over lighting up. I wanted to step away – I hated cigarette smoke – but was afraid of being rude. He offered the case to me. I shook my head.

‘No, thank you,’ I said. ‘What an interesting lighter.’

‘Thanks. Gift from my father.’ He handed me the sterling lighter, overlaid with white enamel. On the front a tiny fish under the sea had been painted in remarkable detail. ‘It’s my lucky charm.’

‘Then I’d best give it back to you.’ I handed the lighter to him. He tucked it into his pocket, gave me a tight smile, and wandered to the window, where he stood smoking with his back to the room.

‘This room is lovely,’ I said.

Daphne spoke about her interest in design and her efforts to use light to enhance space. I listened, nodding when I should, or saying, ‘Really?’ and, ‘You don’t say,’ when a response was required. We carried on this way until an old woman hobbled into the room.

‘Granna, look at me! I’m big!’ Toby jumped up and flew toward the woman. ‘Mamma said we can eat lots of ice cream and cake.’

Granna wore a floor-length skirt twenty-five years out of style, topped with a silk blouse with an elaborate lace collar, held by a cameo at her throat. Toby skipped around her skirts for a moment before he ran back to Zeke, his eyes riveted on Zeke’s black cane with the silver lion’s head.

‘Do you have a sword in there? Some crime fighters have swords in their canes—’

‘Not so loud, Toby,’ Daphne said. She stood up and went to her son. Soon Daphne, Zeke, and Simon were listening to Toby’s tales of heroes with canes.

‘That’s my fault.’ The old woman stood next to me now. ‘I’m afraid I let him listen to anything on the radio that he wants, and, well, boys will be boys. Let’s sit, shall we?’

We took the two chairs tucked into the far corner, just out of earshot.

Granna said, ‘My son – Zeke’s father – is a bully and a fool, and I just want to warn you not to expect too much from him. We are glad to have you here, my dear. It is time that Zeke came home. I’m sure that you’ll want to stay on permanently after you’ve had a chance to get the lay of the land, so to speak.’

I was about to tell her that we wouldn’t be staying permanently when Mrs Griswold stood in the doorway.

‘Dinner, Mrs Griswold?’ Daphne asked.

* * *

We followed Mrs Griswold into a dining area positioned inside the alcove created by four windows which formed a good-sized bay window. An octagonal table had been expanded with leaves to accommodate all of us. The open windows provided a pleasant breeze. Outside, the crickets and nocturnal birds serenaded us. Zeke’s father already sat at the head of the table, a large glass of amber liquid at his elbow. He surveyed us as we filed in, his eyes mean and hard.

Zeke held my chair out for me.

‘This is Sarah, Father.’

‘I know who she is,’ the man growled at me. ‘I followed the trial. I know what you said about that man.’

‘I didn’t have much choice,’ I said.

Mr Caen sipped his drink and watched me over the rim of his glass with watery blue eyes. He had the same features as his sons, intense eyes, and a strong jaw that had once been as determined as Zeke’s. Mr Caen was handsome – all of the Caen men were – but the booze was taking its toll. It wouldn’t be too long before the skin would hang off the jowls and the eyes would become irreparably clouded.

‘You continue to speak to Sarah like that, and we’re leaving.’ Zeke spoke in that calm-before-the-storm quality that even his father noticed. A hush fell over the room. In the distance, an owl hooted.

‘I see someone’s knocked you down a peg or two. You’re a cripple now. Always knew you’d wind up on the wrong end of someone. Troublemaker, that’s what you are.’

‘Stop it, William,’ Granna snapped, as she sat down. ‘Zeke and Sarah made a lot of effort to get here. Let’s not chase them off today. Please, everyone, sit. Let’s enjoy our meal.’

Mrs Griswold entered the room as if on cue. She carried a pan with roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and peas, which she set on the sideboard. She made quick work of serving us. Soon the room fell silent as we ate.

‘The meat shortage hasn’t affected us too much,’ Daphne said. ‘We have a neighbor who raises beef cattle. I give their children riding lessons, and every couple of weeks we get a roast. I grow the vegetables, as you saw earlier.’

‘Regular paragon of virtue,’ Will Sr said. He turned his focus to Zeke. ‘What do you think of the mill? We’ve made a smooth switch to parachutes. Doing our part for the war.’ Will Sr put a piece of beef in his mouth and looked at Zeke.

‘Indeed you have. But you need to install an air-conditioner. One of those girls had to go to the hospital today, Father. She had a heat stroke. You need to take care of your people.’

‘Too expensive,’ Will Sr said.

‘Then at least let them work in the evening so as to avoid the heat of the day,’ Simon piped in. ‘I had to go tell Fred Jones his daughter collapsed on the job because we didn’t provide a humane working environment.’

‘Enough about the mill,’ Will Sr said. ‘Let’s have some peace while we eat.’

‘This is really good,’ Toby said. He ate ravenously. If he noticed the rancor among the adults, he didn’t let on. ‘When I get a pony, I will only feed him grass and alfalfa, maybe some rolled oats, right, Mamma?’

‘Yes, sweet pea,’ Daphne said.

‘Aunt Rachel will lead him while I ride. Just at first. That way Mamma can still teach her lessons and not worry about me.’

All movement in the room stopped. Toby didn’t notice. He kept right on talking, despite everyone’s attention. I knew that children often saw ghosts, so this revelation from Toby didn’t surprise me.

Toby stuffed a huge piece of potato in his mouth.

‘Aunt Rachel said—’

The color drained out of Daphne’s face. Drops of perspiration broke out on her upper lip.

‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ Simon said.

‘That’s enough,’ Will Sr barked.

Toby froze. His eyes widened with fear. He chewed his food and swallowed it with a gulp.

‘Get that child out of my sight,’ Will Sr said.

Daphne rose and went to Toby.

‘Sarah sees her, too. Rachel told me so,’ Toby said. His voice quivered. My heart broke for him.

‘Come on, love. Grandpa’s having one of his spells. I’ll bring you some food to your room.’

‘Do I still get my cake and ice cream?’

‘Of course, extra scoops,’ Daphne said.

‘That’s fine then. Grandpa will be fine tomorrow, right?’ Toby said, as he and Daphne walked hand in hand out of the room.

‘Did you really have to speak to my son that way?’ Simon didn’t bother to hide his disgust.

‘I wouldn’t have to if you would manage your family like a man,’ Will Sr said. He stood and filled his glass from the decanter on the sideboard. He sipped his drink and surveyed us. ‘You’re a sorry lot. I’ve had enough of this nonsense.’

He tottered out of the room, leaving us all in silence.

‘Is this a common occurrence?’ Zeke asked.

‘What do you care?’ Simon didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm from his voice. ‘You don’t have to deal with him day in and day out. He’s an irascible fool—’

‘He’s getting worse,’ Granna said. She faced Zeke and met his eyes with her shrewd gaze. ‘Something’s got to be done about him before he drives the mill and this family into the ground.’

‘Zeke will fix everything,’ Simon said, as he pushed away from the table. ‘The prodigal son has come home to save the day. I’m going to bed.’

I was no longer hungry. The bit of roast beef I had taken had turned to sawdust in my mouth. I forced it down with a generous gulp of red wine.

Granna finished her wine and refilled her glass, and then topped off mine.

‘Welcome home, Zeke. You’ve stepped right back into the hornet’s nest, haven’t you?’ Granna held her glass up before she took a big swig.

‘Don’t you think you should go easy, Granna?’ Zeke said.

‘I need to drink. It’s the only way I can cope.’ She winked at Zeke.

We all stood up and filed out of the dining room toward the staircase. ‘Would you mind going up alone? I really just want to take a walk,’ Zeke said.

‘Of course,’ I said.

He kissed the back of my neck, a subtle promise that never failed to send shivers up my spine, and left me with Granna.

‘Come, dear. I’ll walk up with you.’

We walked side by side up the stairs, Granna taking each step slowly.

‘Horrible arthritis in my hips,’ she was saying. ‘I walk three or four miles each day, but the stairs challenge me. Simon offered me one of the cottages on the property, but I can’t bear the thought of not being close to Toby.’

‘He is a bright child,’ I said.

‘He’s a hellion and I love him to the moon,’ Granna said with a twinkle in her eyes. When we reached my room, I found the door locked.

‘Oh, no. I don’t have a key,’ I said.

Granna rapped on the door next to my room. ‘Helen? It’s Sarah and Granna. Open the door, please.’

We heard footsteps. Helen opened the door. She held a book in one hand. We explained our predicament.

‘Just a minute.’ She stepped into her room and rejoined us carrying a ring of keys.

‘There’s dessert for you downstairs, dear,’ Granna said. ‘Sarah and I need to talk.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ she said.

When we were alone, Granna locked her gaze on me.

‘Is it true? You’ve seen Rachel?’

I froze, not sure what to say.

I let my breath out and wondered if I should just confide in Granna right now. Tell her everything.

‘You’re smart not to trust me yet,’ Granna said. ‘Best wait until you discover for yourself who your allies are. Do you mind if I come in and sit for a minute?’

She came into the room and took one of the two chairs that faced the sofa. I sat in the other one, awkward and unsure where I stood with this strong woman.

‘I’ve always kept an eye on Zeke and Wade. Those two were trouble since they were children, each of them wanting to save the world and trying to outdo each other in the process. Zeke wrote when he took the job for Jack Bennett. He told me that he had met the girl he was going to marry.’ She studied my face. ‘You love him. That makes me glad.’

‘About Rachel—’

‘I am well acquainted with Dr Geisler and his work. It’s not every day a prominent psychiatrist walks away from a lucrative practice to study the paranormal. I know what you can do, Sarah.’ Her expression was frank and without judgment. ‘Rachel came to you with some sort of a task.’ She held up her hand. ‘No. Please. Let me finish. I know in my heart that Rachel’s death wasn’t suicide. That poor girl was murdered. She came to you. Did she ask you to find her murderer?’

My breath caught. I nodded, unable to find my voice.

‘That’s a dangerous undertaking, my dear.’

Granna took a silver flask from the pocket of her skirt and unscrewed the bottle. She offered it to me.

‘No thanks,’ I said.

‘One of the emeralds has turned up. Now Simon is flush with money.’ She took a generous swallow from it and tucked it back in her skirt, out of sight.

‘How do you know this?’

‘I know everything that goes on in this town,’ Granna said. ‘Does Zeke know that you’ve seen Rachel’s ghost?’

I nodded.

‘What an unusual relationship you have. Zeke was always a fair-minded, forward-thinking child. I’m glad to know that he carried that quality into his marriage.’ She stood and straightened her skirt. ‘Be careful, Sarah. You are treading into dark waters.’

‘I know.’ My voice came out a whisper.

‘You’ve a friend in me. If I can help, just ask. Good night, my dear. Sleep well.’

Soon Helen came to help me hang my clothes. She offered to brush my hair, but I declined. Instead I crawled into bed, aware of the space next to me where Zeke should have been. The curtain rustled in the breeze as the crickets and frogs made their night noises.

I was sound asleep when I heard footsteps outside my door. I opened my eyes and reached for Zeke, but the space next to me was empty. I got up and padded to the door, flung it open, and stepped out into the corridor. The house had a stillness to it, as if it too had gone to sleep for the night. In the distance a door shut, but other than that, the house was silent. Where was Zeke?

The curtain hanging over the open window at the end of the corridor billowed in the evening breeze. As if on cue, everything went silent. Even the frogs and the crickets ceased their song. I stood in the corridor until one lone frog called and was soon accompanied by the others. An owl hooted, and the nocturnal sounds resumed. I searched for a light switch but couldn’t find one. With the moonlight showing me the way, I headed toward the staircase, certain that I would find Zeke in his father’s study, poring over papers, or sitting in a chair with a book in his lap.

Goose bumps broke out on my arms. After a second my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Someone was behind me, a presence. ‘Who’s there?’ I turned, but not quick enough. A strong hand connected between my shoulder blades. The hand pushed. I tumbled.

The Drowned Woman

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