‘Of course. Jocelyn. How are you?’
In her anxiety she ignored his question. ‘I need to see you. Can I come up to Aldeburgh today?’
Again the pause. Then a sigh. ‘May I ask what you want to see me about?’
‘Belheddon.’
‘I see. So. It has started again.’ He sounded resigned and a little cross.
‘You have to help me.’ She was pleading.
‘Of course. I’ll do everything I can. Come now.’ He paused. ‘Are you ringing from Belheddon, my dear?’
‘Yes.’
There was a moment’s silence. ‘Then be very careful. I will see you as soon as you can get here.’
The coach house was empty and locked. Luke was nowhere to be seen and there was no sign of Jimbo. The Citro?n had gone. Joss stared at the place it was usually parked in dismay. There had been a heavy thundery shower an hour before and she could see the dry patch on the gravel where it had stood. Going back into the kitchen she shouted for Lyn. There was no reply. There was no sign of her or of Tom. Running to the back door she looked at the hooks where the coats usually hung. Lyn’s mac had gone. So had Tom’s and so had his little red gumboots. They had gone out with Luke without telling her; without saying good-bye or coming upstairs to see if she were all right.
For a moment she was panic stricken.
She had to go now. She needed to see Edgar Gower without delay. Lyn’s car. Puffing she ran out to the coach house. Lyn’s car stood in one of the open coach bays. It was locked. ‘Oh, please. Let the keys be here.’ Turning she sped back into the house. The keys were not on the shelf by the back door where Lyn sometimes threw them. They were not on the dresser or the kitchen table. Setting her teeth grimly Joss walked through the house to the stairs. Her hand on the rail she looked up towards the landing, suddenly reluctant to go up there. There was no one there. Nothing could hurt her. Her mouth dry she put her foot on the bottom step and began slowly and quietly to climb.
In her bedroom the shadow stirred. It drifted slowly towards the door.
Katherine, I love you!
Half way up the stairs Joss stopped, dizzy. Gritting her teeth, hanging on to the banister, she pulled herself up step by step, increasingly weary and turned towards Lyn’s door. Pulling it open she stepped into the room.
Lyn’s room was as always spotlessly tidy. The bed was made, the cupboard closed. No clothes lay strewn about, no books or papers. Her belongings, on the dressing table and the high Victorian chest of drawers were meticulously arranged in small piles. The car keys were there, next to the hairbrush and comb.
Grabbing them Joss turned to the door. It was closed. She stared at it, her stomach churning suddenly. She had not closed it and there had been no draught. Although Lyn’s window was open the curtains were not moving at all. Taking a step towards it she was conscious suddenly of how quiet the house was. There were no sounds anywhere.
The door was not locked. Pulling it open she stared across the landing towards her own bedroom. The skin on the back of her neck was prickling. There was someone there, she could sense it; someone watching; someone pleading with her to stay. Closing her eyes for a moment she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
‘Who is it?’ Her voice sounded very odd in the silence. Defiant and frightened. ‘Luke? Lyn, are you home?’ There was no sound.
She had to look. Slowly, plucking up her courage she forced herself to move towards the doorway. She was torn. She needed to escape; she wanted to stay; she wanted to surrender to that languid ecstasy which had overwhelmed her disguised as dreams as she lay on her bed. She could feel it pulling her, soothing, gentle. Hesitantly she took two more steps towards the room and looked in. There was no one there. It was completely empty.
18
Her hand shook so much she could not get the key into the lock of the Mini. Desperately she tried again, glancing over her shoulder across the courtyard towards the house. The back door was closed. She had slammed it behind her but not paused to double lock it. Too bad. She was not going back now. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and tried to steady herself before bringing the key towards the lock again. It clicked against the car’s paint work, slid towards the slot and at last engaged. She turned it and wrenched the door open. Diving head first into the seat she wedged herself behind the wheel, pulled the door closed behind her and pushed down the locks, then she sat for a moment, her head resting against the steering wheel. When she looked up the courtyard was still empty; the back door still shut. Huge swathes of blue sky were spreading now between the thundery clouds.
A note. She should have left a note. Oh God! They would wonder where she was. She looked beside her to the passenger seat where her shoulder bag should be lying, chucked there as she got in. It wasn’t there. It was still lying on the kitchen table together with her house keys. Almost as soon as she thought of it she knew she was going to do nothing about it. They would guess when they saw Lyn’s car was gone that she had driven somewhere and she could phone them once she got to the Gowers.
In the drive she pulled up and for a moment sat staring over her shoulder at the front of the house as she tried to steady her breathing. The windows were all blank. There were no faces looking down at her from her bedroom window.
The roads were almost empty. She made good time as far as Woodbridge and was setting off northwards when she happened to glance at the petrol gauge. It was hovering over empty. She had been driving fast, concentrating on putting as much space between her and Belheddon as possible, thinking about Edgar Gower and what she was going to say to him when she got there.
If she got there.
Without a handbag she had no money.