House of Echoes

‘Lyn.’ Luke controlled his temper with difficulty. ‘Please, don’t ever say things like that again. It’s not true. Joss would never, never hurt the children.’

 

 

‘No?’ She glared at him. ‘Why don’t we ask Tom?’

 

‘No!’ He stood up, sending the chair shooting backwards across the floor. ‘No, Lyn that’s enough. Have some common sense, please!’

 

Angrier than he had been for a long time, he slammed out of the kitchen and into the hall, aware of Tom’s gaze, thoughtful somehow beyond his years, fixed unwaveringly on his back.

 

In the great hall he stopped in the middle of the floor and took a deep breath. He was letting Lyn get to him and it was crazy. He could see what she was up to – undermining Joss, trying to win him and the children away from her, planting seeds of doubt. Damn it, she almost had him believing it was Joss who had pushed him into the lake.

 

Around him the room seemed suddenly very silent. Ramming his hands down into the pockets of his cords he shivered, staring down at the empty hearth. A mound of cold ash lay between the fire dogs, a scattering of small twigs around it. The room was very cold. He could feel the chill striking up from the flag stones into his bones. He was conscious suddenly of the sound of the wind in the great chimney. It was moaning gently and every now and then as a stronger gust shook the house the sound changed and took on a strange resemblance to laughter – children’s laughter.

 

‘Joss!’ He turned abruptly and strode towards the study.

 

She was standing staring out of the French windows at the dark garden. The computer, he noticed, was not even switched on.

 

‘Joss, what are you doing?’ He saw her guilty jump and the way she reached for the curtains, pulling them quickly across to shut out the darkness almost as though she didn’t want him to see what it was she had been watching. He also saw the surreptitious gesture she made to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.

 

‘Joss, what is it? Why are you crying?’

 

She shrugged, still not looking at him.

 

‘Joss, come here.’ He drew her into his arms and held her against him. ‘Tell me.’

 

Wordlessly she shrugged again. How could she tell him her fears? They sounded crazy. They were crazy! The images which haunted her dreams and her waking hours were no more than that – images which derived from some archetypal nightmare world where Luke was being threatened on every side and Ned and Tom were in danger of their lives and other people, people she didn’t know, were running, fearful, through the house.

 

The young man writhed in pain, spittle frothing at the corners of his mouth, his hands clutching at hers.

 

‘Katherine! Sweet wife! Hold me.’

 

‘Richard!’ She pressed her lips against his hot sweating forehead and soothed him gently.

 

‘I’m done for, sweetheart.’ He retched again, his body contorted. ‘Remember me.’

 

‘How could I forget,’ she whispered. ‘But you will get well. I know you will get well.’ She was crying so hard she could hardly see his face.

 

He shook his head. He had read his doom in his mother—in-law’s eyes. ‘No, my love, no. I have to leave you.’

 

He too was crying as he died.

 

 

 

‘Is it the book? Are you having trouble with the book?’ He was talking softly, his mouth pressed against her hair. ‘Joss, you mustn’t let things get out of proportion, love. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters so much that you let it make you ill.’

 

His arms round her were strong. Within their embrace she felt completely safe, and yet John Bennet had been strong; her own real father had presumably been strong and what had happened to them? With a violent shudder she pushed Luke away. ‘Take no notice of me. I’m being silly. It’s lack of sleep, that’s all.’

 

‘Joss, you know Lyn has offered – ’

 

‘Oh, I know she has offered.’ The emotion in Joss’s response astonished her as much as Luke. ‘I don’t want her taking over Ned’s life. I don’t want her doing every single thing for him. I don’t want him to think she is his mother. I want him myself, Luke. I want to look after him! She’s stealing him from me.’

 

‘Of course she isn’t, Joss – ’

 

‘No? Take a look at things.’ She tore herself out of his grip and went to stand in front of the computer. The screen was a reproachful blank.

 

‘You take a look at things, Joss.’ Luke kept his voice deliberately even. ‘You and I are employing Lyn to be the children’s nanny. We are giving her board and lodging and a small wage to do a job. That was supposed to help both of you. She needed a job and I suspect a home away from Alice and Joe for a bit to give her some independence, and you wanted space to write a book and get on with doing up Belheddon and researching its history. After Tom was born you felt the restrictions of looking after a small child very badly if you remember. Having Lyn here wasn’t a plot to deprive you of the boys, Joss. It was to help you. If it’s not working, we’ll tell her to go.’

 

Sitting down at her desk, Joss put her head in her hands. Wearily she rubbed her temples. ‘Oh, Luke. I’m sorry. I’ve been feeling as though my life has been running away with me. As if it is living me instead of me living it!’

 

He laughed. ‘Silly old Joss. If ever there was a lady in charge of her own destiny, it’s you.’

 

 

 

Joss put both children to bed while Lyn was making the supper and they were sitting round the table in the kitchen when Janet arrived. Shedding her Barbour in the back porch she came in, her cheeks whipped pink by the wind, her hair wet and tangled. ‘I’ve got something for my godson in the car.’ She accepted the offer of a cup of coffee with alacrity. ‘It’s so gorgeous I had to bring it straight over. Until he’s old enough I thought his brother would adore it too.’

 

‘Janet, you spoil them. First Kit and Kat, and now – what is it?’

 

Janet beamed. ‘All right. I can’t wait. I’m no good at building suspense. Come and help me, Luke. It’s in the back of the car.’