Leading the way into the sun-filled study next morning Joss set her tray of coffee and biscuits down on the desk. The midwife had gone as the Gowers arrived. They stood just inside the doorway now staring round the room.
‘Why, it hasn’t changed at all since your mother was here,’ Dot said in evident delight. ‘Oh, Joss, dear, this is such a lovely room. And is this the little one? May I see?’ Ned was sleeping in his crib beside the open window. She stood looking down at him for several seconds, then she turned and smiled. ‘Edgar? Come and look. I think this house is blessed. I think all the unhappiness has gone.’
Her husband stood looking down into the crib as she had, then his face too relaxed into a smile. He glanced up at Joss. ‘My dear, the last time I came into this house I performed a service of blessing and exorcism for your mother. I think it worked. Dot is right. The atmosphere has changed completely. I will never forget the anguish and fear and hatred which seemed to pervade the very walls on that occasion. I felt as though I were wrestling with the devil himself. But now …’ he shook his head wonderingly. ‘This place is full of joy and light.’ Turning to the fireplace he stood for a moment with his back to it, then he lowered himself into an arm chair. ‘May I suggest something?’
Joss gestured Dot towards the other chair and then turned to pour out the coffee. ‘Of course.’
‘I think it would be nice to baptise the little one as soon as possible. Would you allow me to do it? Unless of course you have already made plans in that direction.’
‘Well, no, we hadn’t.’ Joss passed him a cup. ‘I must discuss it with Luke, but I think that would be wonderful. Tom Tom was christened in London.’
‘Soon.’ Edgar’s brilliant blue eyes were fixed on her face.
Joss frowned. ‘You are still worried.’
‘No. But I believe in taking no chances. I know that to many people the baptism is merely a social occasion – a marker to place the child in the community – but it has a far more important purpose than that: to save and protect the child in Christ’s name. You do not need to send out invitations.’
Joss sat down, suddenly very weary. ‘You mean you want to do it now.’
‘It would be best.’
‘Here. In the house.’
‘In the church.’
‘Would James Wood mind?’
‘I shall ring him first, of course.’ Edgar sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. ‘My dear, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to railroad you into this. You need time to think and discuss it with your husband, of course you do. I can always come back. Or Wood can do it.’ He smiled, pushing the shock of white hair back out of his eyes. ‘There is no need for an indecent hurry. I was filled with such unease about this place, but it was not necessary. I can sense that. I think the problems have gone. Perhaps your poor mother, God rest her soul, brought them on with her unhappiness.’ Putting down his cup he stood up restlessly and went back to the window, glancing down at the sleeping baby as he did so. Then he swung round. ‘May I wander round a little? Forgive me. Call it professional interest.’
Joss forced a smile. ‘Of course.’
He nodded. ‘Stay and talk to Dot. She’ll tell you what an insufferable boor I am, and you can moan about my ideas as much as you like!’
In the hall he stood still, gazing up the staircase. For a moment he did not move, then slowly he reached into his pocket for his crucifix.
The staircase was dark. Groping on the wall he found the light switch and flicked it down. The lights were dim – a bulb had gone half way up at the corner of the stairs and the flight wound up into the shadows. Taking a deep breath he put a foot on the bottom step.
Ignoring Lyn’s room he made his way at once into the master bedroom and looked round. The four poster was the same, the heavy cupboard by the window, the rugs, the chairs. The only differences came from the clothes scattered around, the books piled on the window sills, the flowers in vases on the chest of drawers and the shelf by the chimney breast and the small crib by the back window with its trail of white shawls, the attendant piles of small garments, the garish plastic changing mat and huge bag of disposable nappies.
Standing in the middle of the room he listened intently.
Katherine
Was that a voice in the echoes? He remembered from last time the anguish, the pain that permeated the very plaster of the walls of this room, the conviction that if he tried harder he would be able to hear the voice that seemed to scream its agony beneath this roof.
A pox on you priests. Why could your prayers not save her?
With a sigh he turned round, then taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders he knelt on the rug at the end of the bed and began to pray.
When he returned to the study Dot and Joss had been joined by Lyn and Tom. ‘I was telling Lyn that we thought we might have the christening early,’ Joss said slowly as Edgar appeared. She was tight lipped. ‘She doesn’t feel it would be right.’
‘Of course it’s not right.’ Lyn was clearly angry. ‘You can’t do it without Mum and Dad. They would be desperately hurt.’ She turned on Joss. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with you! Doesn’t the past mean anything to you at all? All the years they have treated you as their daughter, loved you, cared for you! Now this bloody house comes into the picture and dear old Joe and Alice are so much rubbish you’d rather forget about!’
‘Lyn!’ Joss stared at her. ‘That’s not true. That’s absolute nonsense and you know it! We’re not talking about a christening to thwart Mum and Dad’s chances of a nice party, we’re talking about saving a baby who might have a terrible accident at any moment!’