The doctor was in the kitchen with Luke when Joss and Tom arrived downstairs. The two men were seated at the table over cups of coffee, talking in subdued tones which ceased the moment she appeared. Joss felt a moment’s unease as she caught Simon’s speculative gaze on her but she smiled and greeted him amicably. ‘So, Luke, what happened to my cup of tea? I was waiting for it with my tongue hanging out.’ Tom had released her hand and run straight to the rocking horse.
‘Sorry, I got delayed.’ Luke stood up and went to lift him onto it. ‘Jimbo wanted the keys to the coach house. He got here early.’
Simon, relaxed, in an open-necked shirt and heavy sweater took another sip of his coffee. ‘So, it doesn’t look to me as though there’s much wrong with that young man of yours.’
‘There isn’t.’ Joss picked up the teapot and shook it experimentally. ‘You managed to get here very quickly, Simon.’
‘Lyn caught me on the car phone. I was on my way back from the Fords. Their fifth was born in the early hours.’ He grinned wryly. ‘Someone needs to tell Bill Ford to tie a knot in it or they’ll end up with fifteen in as many years.’ He chuckled. ‘Forget I said that. Most unprofessional. So, young Master Grant, I gather you’ve got a bit of a sore throat this morning. Didn’t your Mummy ever tell you not to put things into your mouth?’ He opened his bag and produced torch and spatula.
‘What were you thinking about, Joss, to leave such small toys in his cot?’ Luke stopped pushing the horse and stood back out of Simon’s way.
Joss took a deep breath. ‘I did not give them to him. I am not a complete fool!’
‘Then who did? It wasn’t Lyn or me.’
‘I asked Tom who gave them to him.’ Joss had poured her own tea. Turning away from them she stood for a moment looking through the window out into the courtyard. The doors of the coach house were open and the light poured out into the still dusky yard.
‘And what did Tom say, eh?’ Simon’s voice was carefully neutral as he peered at Tom’s throat.
Tom pushed the spatula away. ‘Georgie gave Tom toys,’ he said helpfully.
‘Georgie?’ Simon switched off the torch. ‘And who is Georgie?’
There was a silence. ‘Georgie does not exist.’ Luke’s voice was suddenly repressive.
‘I see.’ Simon went back to the table and picked up his cup. ‘An imaginary friend.’
‘No.’ Joss spoke sharply from the window. She did not turn round. ‘Not imaginary. If he was, how could he give Tom the toys?’
‘Right.’ Simon glanced at Luke, who shrugged. ‘Luke, would you mind?’ He gestured towards the door with his head. He waited until Luke had let himself out into the courtyard before standing up again. ‘Why don’t I give you a bit of a push, old chap.’ He went back to the horse.
‘There’s no problem here, Joss. Just a fright. A bit of bruising locally, nothing more. So,’ he glanced at her, noting the tense shoulders. ‘Tell me how you are.’
‘I’m fine.’ Her voice was still tight.
‘Really fine?’ He was still gently pushing the horse’s glossy dappled rump.
Joss turned. ‘What has Luke been saying to you?’
‘He’s worried. He thinks you’re doing too much.’
‘He thinks I’m going round the bend.’
‘Do you?’
He expected her to flare up at the question. Instead she left the window and sat down at the table, her cup in front of her. ‘I think I’m beginning to wonder.’
‘So. Who is Georgie?’
‘My brother.’
‘Your brother?’ He looked astonished. ‘I didn’t realise you had one.’
‘I don’t.’ She looked up. ‘He died in 1962, two years before I was born.’
‘Ah.’ There was only the slightest hesitation in the rhythm of his pushing as he noticed Tom’s sudden tension. Releasing his vice-like grip on the red leather reins with one of his hands, the child’s thumb crept up to his mouth. Simon frowned. ‘Where’s Lyn?’
Joss shrugged. ‘Listening at the door?’
‘Oh, Joss, hey, come on.’ Simon walked over to it and opened it. The hall was empty. ‘I’d like Lyn to come and give Tom here his breakfast before he starves so much he turns into a little tiny frog, and I want you and me to have a little talk. Lyn?’ His shout was surprisingly loud.
They both heard the slap of her exercise sandals on the stone flags as she answered the call. She had not been far away.
‘So, tell me what’s going on.’ In the study, Simon took up a stance in front of the fire. Lyn had already made it up, Joss noted. It was burning merrily, filling the room with the sweet smell of fruit wood.
‘What did Luke tell you?’
‘That he thought you might be suffering from post-natal depression.’
‘And do you think I am?’
‘I think it unlikely. Maybe you’re tired and maybe you’re a bit depressed – show me a new mother who isn’t – that doesn’t mean it’s anything serious. How are you sleeping these days?’
‘All right.’ It was a lie and they both knew it.
‘And you’re still breast feeding?’
She nodded. ‘Just one feed a day.’
‘I’d better take a look at that young man while I’m here, too.’
‘Simon.’ She walked restlessly over to the desk. ‘I did not make Georgie up. You heard yourself that Tom has seen him.’
‘I heard. So tell me about it.’
‘If it were just me, Simon, I’d wonder if I needed putting in a straitjacket, but it’s not.’ She shook her head. ‘Other people have seen them too.’
‘Them?’
She sat down. ‘Are you taught that irritating, unflappable tone of voice at medical school?’
He smiled. ‘On day one. If you can’t do it, they kick you out straight away.’
‘So you can sound as if nothing in the whole wide world can surprise or shock you.’
‘Nothing can, Joss, believe me.’
‘So, if I say the house is haunted, you won’t turn a hair?’