“‘This other Eden, demi-paradise,’” I quoted loftily.
“Oh,” said Emma, patting Derek’s knee, “you mean England. Well, it’s true enough. The English do love to dibble and hoe, but Dimity’s garden is unusual, even for here.” A faraway look came into her eyes. “Working on it has been quite an experience.”
“The cottage, as well,” Derek added. “Quite an experience.” Waving away my offer of more tea, he returned his cup to the tray, contemplated the fire, then sat back, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Actually,” he went on, “we didn’t come over tonight solely to deliver the car.”
“Although we wanted to do that, certainly,” said Emma.
“Yes, of course,” said Derek. “But we were also wondering if…” He cleared his throat.
“…if you had noticed anything,” Emma put in. “Since you arrived, that is.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Oh… anything unusual,” Derek said casually.
I thought for a second. “The lock’s not working on the front door. I mean, it works sometimes, and sometimes it jams.”
“Have you had any trouble with it, Lori?” asked Derek.
“No, but—”
“Anything else out of the ordinary?”
I shrugged. “All of the lights were on when we got here, but I assumed that you—”
“We didn’t,” said Emma. “You see… well… I’m not quite sure how to say this. It’s not something I’ve had much experience with.”
“There was the lady chapel in Cornwall,” Derek pointed out.
“Yes, but that didn’t involve someone we knew, Derek. This is completely different.” Emma turned back to me. “Besides, we didn’t know anything about you and we were afraid you might be… disturbed by it.”
“Disturbed by what?” I asked warily.
“We simply wanted to tell you not to worry if you notice any peculiar things happening in the cottage,” said Emma.
“Such as the front door lock,” said Derek. “We’ve never had trouble with it before, but as you said, it will only open for you now. It stands to reason, of course. She had the whole place done up for you. She must feel protective.”
“I’m sure that’s why the lights were on, too. And the lilacs blossoming so early…” Emma gestured at the bowl of fragrant flowers on the piano. “She was always very fond of lilacs. There’s the fire as well, but you saw what happened with that.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, as gently as I could. I put my cup on the tray and looked dubiously from Emma’s face to Derek’s. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. By ‘she’ you mean Dimity?”
“Oh, yes,” said Emma. “We’re not sure why, but we’re certain it’s Dimity.”
“You’re telling me that the cottage is haunted?”
“I’m afraid so,” replied Derek, and Emma nodded her agreement.
“Not that there’s anything to be afraid of,” Emma added.
“Bill, did you hear that?” But there was no reaction from Bill. Instead, a strange stillness had fallen over him, the stillness of a hunter waiting for his prey to step into the trap. I felt a pang of disappointment so intense that I nearly groaned aloud.
This was it, the monumental prank I’d been waiting for ever since we’d touched down at Heathrow. And I had to admire how carefully he had set it up. He’d drawn me out during the flight and behaved like a perfect gentleman in London, all in order to win my trust, to lull me into complacency, so that when the time came, I would… what? Scream and run out of the cottage? Fall fainting into his arms? What kind of a fool did he take me for? I had no doubt that Emma and Derek were in on the game, but I couldn’t blame them. I knew how charming Bill could be.
“Thank you,” I said, with a touch of frost in my voice. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“As I said, it’s nothing to worry about,” Emma repeated earnestly. “It shook me a bit at first, but you’d be amazed at how quickly you get used to it.” She looked uncertainly at Derek.
“Yes. Well.” Derek drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch, then stood up. “Thank you very much for your hospitality. We’d best be going, Em. Vicar’s roof tomorrow.”
“First thing in the morning,” said Emma. “They’re forecasting heavy rain for the rest of the day.”
We stayed with the safe subject of the weather until Derek and Emma walked out into the cold. I closed the door and leaned my head against it, willing Bill to admit that the whole thing had been his idea of a joke. If he had, I think I could have shrugged it off.
“Strange story,” he said.
I straightened slowly.
“I can’t imagine why they’d make it up, though,” he added.
“Can’t you?” I asked, still with my back to him.
“No. I’ll have to speak to Father about it. He’s not going to like—” He broke off as I swung around to face him. “Lori? You don’t think I—”