‘No of course she doesn’t.’ David hauled himself up onto the table beside her. ‘Now, what can I do to help. I feel a cookery lesson coming on.’
Lyn glanced at him archly. ‘I suppose I could make some biscuits.’ She blushed.
The magic word had an immediate electrifying effect on Tom. Scattering brightly coloured plastic bricks all over the floor he scrambled to his feet, dodged effectively past Joss’s outstretched hand and ran towards them. ‘Me cook bickies,’ he announced firmly, and standing on tiptoe he grabbed a wooden spoon from the table.
Joss watched them for several minutes. Her back ached and she was feeling peculiarly tired. Lyn was flirting openly with David and after an initial show of reluctance he had obviously decided to humour her. When Joss finally wandered out of the kitchen and back to the study no one noticed her go. David and Lyn, covered in biscuit mixture as much as Tom, were laughing too much to hear the sound of the softly latching door.
In the great hall she stopped and looked round. Lyn had put a huge vase of daffodil buds on the table and in the comparative warmth of the house they had opened. The glorious scent filled the room. It was a happy smell, one that reminded her of spring and optimism and rebirth. She stood for a while looking down at the flowers then she went through into the study. On the chair where she had been sitting lay a rose bud. She stared at it. David would not have put it there. He would not have done anything so stupid! Putting out her hand she touched it. It was ice cold; frosted; already growing limp in the heat of the room, the white petals falling open, it was collapsing as she watched. Distastefully she picked it up and looked at it closely. There was something sad and decadent about it – something unpleasant that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She looked at it for a moment longer, then with a shiver she threw it on the fire.
16
As she lay back Joss craned sideways to look at the image of her baby on the screen. She could see it clearly this time – the foetal shape, the little arms, the legs, the pulsing swirling life.
‘Can you tell if it’s a boy or a girl?’ she asked. The question had been seething inside her all morning.
‘If I can, I’m not allowed to tell.’ The radiographer calmly went on with the scan.
‘I need to know.’ Joss’s voice was tense. ‘Please. I do need to know.’
‘Oh come on, Joss.’ Luke was with her, sitting on a chair nearby, peering in some confusion at the strange blobs and swirls which showed his child. ‘It’s more fun not to know. It’s not as though we mind, either way, as long as he or she is healthy.’
‘I need to know, Luke.’ Her voice was fierce. ‘Please. Can’t you tell me? I shan’t breathe a word.’
The woman stepped back from the bed. ‘It’s the hospital’s policy not to tell mothers.’ She pulled a wad of tissues from a box and began to rub away the gel from Joss’s skin. ‘But in fact, my dear, I don’t know. Not the way your baby is lying. So you must wait and see. Not long now. Twenty-eight weeks and as far as I can tell the little one is absolutely fine. No trouble there at all.’ She smiled as she covered Joss up. ‘Now, you get up in your own time while I fill in the form, and you can have a picture to take home.’ Sitting down she scooted her chair across the floor to her desk.
‘Luke. Make her tell me.’ Joss’s eyes filled with tears.
Luke stared at her. ‘Joss! What on earth is the matter? We agreed we don’t mind what it is.’
‘Well I do mind. I want to know.’
The radiographer had put on a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles. She turned and peered over them at Joss. ‘Mrs Grant. I told you I couldn’t tell you, even if I wanted to.’ She frowned as she stood up and threw the glasses onto her desk. ‘Now, you mustn’t get yourself in a state. That’s not good for you. Not good at all.’
In the car going home Luke said nothing until they had reached the outskirts of the town. ‘Come on, Joss. What is it? She said the baby was fine.’
‘I need to know, Luke. They’d tell me in London, I’m sure they would. Don’t you see? If it’s a boy, it’s in danger – ’
‘No!’ Luke slammed on the brakes. ‘Joss that is enough! I will not listen to any more of this. It’s crazy. Tom is not in danger. That baby, boy or girl, is not in danger. You are not in danger. I am not in danger.’ Behind them a car hooted and edged past them. The driver lifted the middle finger of his hand as he passed. ‘You are not to worry. Listen. I am going to ask the rector to come in and talk to you. Would you feel better if he blessed the house, or exorcised it or something? Would that put your mind at rest?’
Exorcizo te, in nomine Dei ? Patris omnipotentis, et in nomine Jesu ? Christi Filii ejus, Domine nostri, et in virtute Spiritus ? Sancti …
With a sigh Joss leaned back in her seat and slowly she shook her head. What was the point? It had already been tried.
Luke called him anyway in the end three weeks later. James Wood sat on the edge of his chair and listened politely to Joss and then again to Luke as the May sunshine poured in through the windows. Then he smiled. ‘I am always prepared to bless a house. I usually do it when people first move in. I pray for their happiness in the house and that it should be a sanctuary and a home.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘But I normally pass ghosts over to a colleague who specialises in such things.’