Distant Voices

by Barbara Erskine

  Jacqueline stopped outside a door in the long, deeply carpeted corridor. ‘Ring if you need anything,’ she said haughtily. ‘The housekeeper will help you,’ and so saying she turned away, sweeping out of sight along the passage.

  I opened the door and went in. The room was flooded with sunlight and I stared round, my delight for a moment obliterating my fears, quite dazzled by the white carpet and drapes and the lovely soft velvet of the chairs. A huge bowl of damask roses stood on the dressing table, filling the room with their heady scent.

  Beyond the bedroom was a bathroom. Both bathroom and bedroom were equipped with enamelled bell-pulls. I hesitated, then defiantly pulled one.

  Almost at once the door opened and a figure appeared, a tall dark-haired woman in her fifties, dressed in impeccable black. Her austere features did not betray the glimmer of a smile as she looked me up and down. I had the feeling she was judging me and was uncomfortably uncertain about the decision she had reached.

  ‘Good afternoon Miss Parrish,’ she said, in a strong Bostonian accent. ‘I am Edith Marlesford, Mr Bradshaw’s housekeeper. I trust you have everything you need?’

  She sounded as if she were challenging me to find fault with something if I dare, and my question about Minna froze on my lips. I found myself giving her a tentative smile. ‘The room is lovely, thank you. I was wondering if someone could bring up my cases.’

  She bowed slightly. ‘They are on their way.’

  ‘When will my cousin return from Boston?’ I asked.

  ‘About eight, I believe,’ she said. ‘Dinner is at nine. There is one other guest here at present. Mr Calder, from England like yourself.’ She paused, then almost unwillingly she went on, ‘Perhaps you would like some refreshment brought up to your room now? Some iced tea?’ It was obviously a great concession and gratefully I nodded assent.

  An hour later, showered, changed and refreshed I leaned on the low window sill looking out into the deserted gardens, wondering what I was expected to do until Richard returned. I was not inclined to seek out the beautiful Jacqueline.

  There was a phone beside the bed and on impulse I dialled Chris in New York. I had to talk to someone.

  ‘How is it?’ he asked. ‘What’s the tycoon like?’

  I laughed nervously. ‘He’s not here yet, but his house is fantastic.’ It was reassuring to hear Chris’s voice. I had begun to feel very lonely.

  ‘Chris,’ I went on. ‘Minna isn’t here.’

  I could almost hear him shrug. ‘She’s probably had enough of the high life and come home. I shouldn’t worry; I can’t help thinking you’d have a lot more fun without her, Kate.’ I might have known he would not take my worries seriously.

  We talked for a few minutes more, then, my courage bolstered, I set off to explore the house. Slipping down the staircase I peered into first one cool high-ceilinged room, then another. All were spacious, all impeccably furnished with English antiques, and all deserted. Eventually I found some doors which led onto the lawns and I slipped outside with relief. I was tempted to take off my shoes and run barefoot on the velvet grass but somehow I resisted. I was still too awed by my surroundings.

  I had been wondering where Dave Conway had got to all this time, and then in the distance I thought I caught sight of him, sitting on the edge of a stone fountain. I ran towards him with relief.

  ‘Dave, thank goodness, I thought you’d abandoned me!’

  The figure turned slightly and I recognised in embarrassment that it wasn’t Dave at all, but a tall broad-shouldered dark-haired man with brilliant blue eyes; he was the most attractive man I had ever seen. He rose courteously and held out his hand. ‘Katherine Parrish, I presume,’ he said in an impeccable English accent. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you. Were you feeling very abandoned?’ There was a hint of a smile in his eyes.

  Flustered, I gave a little laugh. This was obviously the other guest, Mr Calder, and now I was close I saw no resemblance to Dave. Where Dave was charming and quiet with relaxed understated good looks, this man exuded a kind of vibrant magnetism which was almost palpable.

  ‘Lost is a better word perhaps,’ I said, confiding in him in spite of my shyness. ‘I wasn’t sure what I was expected to do until my cousin returns. I could find no one in the house.’

  He nodded. ‘How very remiss of everyone. I must apologise. Dave has his own quarters at the back. I expect he is there, and Jacqueline is probably resting.’ He tightened his lips slightly and I received a strong impression that he did not like Jacqueline. ‘So,’ he went on with a smile, ‘allow me to show you round the gardens. It will help to fill in the time before dinner.’

  He slipped the note book he had been writing in into his hip pocket and gestured towards the vista of lakes and flower beds which led down towards the sunset.

  I walked beside him, conscious every second of how attractive the man was as I wondered how he fitted into the household. He obviously knew who I was but had made no attempt to introduce himself. ‘You must be Mr Calder?’ I asked tentatively at last.

  ‘Must I?’ He turned his blue eyes on me and grinned. ‘II you say so.’

  That smile was irresistible. I found my own unease evaporating. ‘Are you a colleague of my cousin’s?’ I asked as I followed him over the grass.

  ‘Something like that,’ he said unhelpfully.

  ‘Have you known him long?’ I persisted. My curiosity about Richard was at fever pitch now that I was actually in his house.

  ‘All my life, I suppose.’ He led me around the corner of a huge hedge and we stopped, looking down the broad grass terraces to a view of the distant sea.

  ‘What is he like?’ I asked.

  He seemed to consider for a moment, his thumbs hitched into his belt. ‘Hard,’ he said. ‘In fact, he’s really rather a swine. You mustn’t trust him.’

  I swallowed. I had not expected such an outspoken assessment of our host, and it threw me; I was not sure how to take it.

  ‘But you like him,’ I stammered at last.

  He considered for a moment. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Sometimes I don’t like him at all.’

  I stared at him in complete silence. He was gazing into the distance, and for a second I received a sharp impression that he no longer knew I was there. I felt my skin suddenly grow cold as if a shadow had swept across the bright garden.

  ‘There you are!’ A woman’s voice interrupted us and I swung round to see a tall red-haired figure appearing from the shelter of the hedge. She was dressed in a low-cut, green evening gown which revealed every detail of her fantastic figure. She eyed me with open antagonism.

  ‘Is this the other cousin?’ she asked, slipping her arm possessively through my companion’s. Until that moment, I realised suddenly, he had not bothered to turn to face her.

  ‘This is Katherine Parrish,’ he agreed, his voice hard now. He swung round to me. ‘Katherine, let me introduce Sara Dashwood.’

  I held out my hand uncertainly. ‘Please, call me Kate,’ I said.

  The woman ignored my gesture. ‘Hi Kate,’ she said dismissively, and one of her hands crept up to the front of his shirt and as I watched, fascinated, it slipped inside, caressing his chest possessively. ‘What about coming in for a drink?’ she whispered huskily. She could not have made it more clear that I was in the way.

  I could feel my cheeks growing scarlet but Mr Calder gripped her wrist firmly and pushed her away. ‘Good idea,’ he said calmly. ‘Katherine, you must forgive Sara. Her manners are not all they might be.’ I caught my breath at his acid tone and was in time to see the vindictive look she flashed me, but he went on coolly. ‘You don’t mind if I call you Katherine, I hope. It suits you so much better than Kate.’ His glance was warm and appraising, and I began to feel better but a moment later he had crushed me by his next remark. ‘May I suggest that you should go and change now, Katherine. Dinner is in half an hour,’ he consulted the wafer-thin gold watch on his wrist, ‘and we like to keep it formal here.’

  I fled.


  Luckily I had brought a long dress with me and trembling with humiliation and rage I slipped into it, conscious that next to Sara and Jacqueline I would indeed look like some hick country cousin. I swept my long hair into what I hoped was a more sophisticated style and clipped my antique pearl studs into my ears. I was studying myself in the mirror when there was a knock at the door.

  It was the housekeeper once more and I saw her eyeing me critically as she stood in the doorway. It was impossible to judge what she thought. Her face was as demonstrative as marble.

  ‘If you are ready, Mr Richard would like to speak to you before dinner,’ she said. So, he had returned at last.

  I followed her down, my heart hammering with fear. I was no longer looking forward to our meeting.

  The huge dim study was illuminated by a single alabaster table lamp which threw a pool of warm light on the leather-topped desk by the window. Two men were seated in the room and as I appeared they both rose to their feet.

  To my relief my companion from the garden was there, dressed in a dinner jacket. With him was a much older man. I looked round, puzzled. I had imagined Richard to be in his thirties – certainly no more.

  ‘Katherine, there you are. Allow me to present John Calder, my English lawyer,’ my Mr Calder said. I had not missed the quick look of admiration which he flashed in my direction as he took in my dress and hair.

  I stared at him. ‘I … I don’t understand. Mr Calder? But then who are you?’ Then overcome with embarrassment I understood suddenly. ‘You mean you are Richard? But why didn’t you say?’ I felt anger sweep over me as I saw the amusement in his eyes.

  Impassively John Calder, the real John Calder, produced a glass and put it into my hand. ‘A drink, Miss Parrish,’ he murmured. I took it, but my gaze had not left my cousin’s face. ‘I thought you were an American born and bred,’ I went on. ‘You don’t sound American!’

  ‘Indeed?’ He replied at last, and his tone was suddenly icy. ‘I can’t think why I should.’

  Once more he consulted his watch. ‘Please, sit down Katherine. There is some business I wish to discuss with you before we dine.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘The papers, John.’

  Obediently the other man reached for a leather document wallet as I seated myself in a chair near the desk and arranged my skirts around me as calmly as I could. The hands I clasped around my glass were trembling slightly as I surveyed my cousin’s face in the lamplight. He was still the most handsome man I had ever seen, but the humour in his eyes had vanished. His face was hard and unemotional as he took the sheaf of papers from his colleague and came round the desk to sit on the edge of it, facing me.

  ‘I have here deeds making over to me your share of the inheritance at Kingley,’ he said. ‘I have arranged that you have life tenancy of the farmhouse where your father lives at present – I am not interested in the building – but I want immediate possession of the land so that the woods can be cleared and the marshland drained. I am prepared to give you the current market value for the acreage in cash. You may of course have an independent valuation if you wish.’

  I stared at him, unable to speak for a moment in my surprise. Then I felt the first white hot anger clamp down on my heart. His eyes had lost their charm; they were as hard as steel. Rising to my feet I put down my glass, shaking my head. ‘I am sorry Richard. I am not selling.’

  He did not seem surprised. ‘I have paid Minna five hundred thousand pounds for her share,’ he said softly.

  I gasped. ‘She agreed to sell?’

  ‘She agreed.’ He picked up his own glass and drained it.

  I thought of Minna’s phone call, her sobbing voice, her strangled warning and I felt suddenly very sick. ‘Where is Minna?’ I asked sharply. ‘I want to see her. What have you done to her?’

  ‘Done?’ He raised an eyebrow coldly. ‘I have done nothing other than make a rich woman of her. As to where she is, I assume she has gone back to New York.’

  They were both looking at me and I could see nothing but menace in their faces. A picture of the lovely marshes at home, the sun reflecting on the golden reeded water flashed before my eyes and I shuddered violently. ‘No,’ I repeated again, looking wildly round. ‘No, I will not sell.’

  A gong sounded somewhere in the depths of the house. It seemed to dispel the sinister atmosphere which was building round us. Almost magically Richard’s face cleared and he was once more all charm. ‘Dinner,’ he said quietly. ‘You may of course have as much time as you need to consider your decision, but I should like your signature before you return to New York. Let us leave business now. My chef would be very upset to think that we even contemplated such a thing when one of his meals was in the offing. Allow me to show you the way …’ His hand on my bare shoulder was warm and firm, his touch electric as he ushered me towards the door.

  The others were already gathered in the dining room. To my relief Dave was there, handsome in a blue tuxedo, between Sara, her flaming hair glowing in the candlelight, and Jacqueline, thin and exquisite in silver lace.

  We took our places and I found myself staring around the table, my hands still shaking, as the two uniformed maids served the soup course. What kind of man was my cousin? Handsome, charming, undeniably attractive to women as I myself had found, but it was he who had said he was hard and unlikeable, even to himself. I glanced from Sara, whose eyes were fixed possessively on him, to Jacqueline, who was toying listlessly with her food and I frowned. A fiancée and a mistress, if I read the signs aright, under the same roof, and at the same table. Was it possible?

  I turned to Dave in some relief as he began to ask me about my job and somehow I managed to get through the meal, conscious the whole time of the silence of the other two women and my cousin as I chatted lightly with Dave and Calder, describing my work and the life I led with Martin. It was a very uncomfortable hour. Afterwards, coffee was served outside by the swimming pool and I found myself seated beside Richard. He was watching me carefully. ‘You really care about your work?’ he said.

  I nodded. ‘You must see why I cannot sell that land. It is a wildlife sanctuary of enormous importance,’ I said earnestly.

  He beckoned a servant over and asked for a cigar. I watched him flick his gold Dunhill into life. ‘Unfortunate, but it can’t be helped,’ he said thoughtfully after a moment. ‘Draining the marshes doubles the efficiency of the main estate.’ He blew a column of fragrant smoke into the night sky.

  ‘I’ll never sell,’ I said quietly.

  I saw his eyes gleam. ‘You will,’ he said. ‘I’m prepared to pay you half a million sterling for it. That is way over the market price for that acreage of uneconomic land.’

  I stared at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. I followed his gaze and saw that Sara was standing at the edge of the swimming pool, a brandy balloon in her hand, talking to Dave. Even in the twilight of the pool lights she looked voluptuous.

  Abruptly I hauled myself to my feet from the low chair, overcome with a stifling sense of claustrophobia. I looked down at Richard, conscious that behind us everyone had turned to watch me. ‘I told you, I am not going to part with that land,’ I said softly. ‘Grandfather intended me to have it; he knew what it meant to me, and I am going to hang on to it. Now, if you don’t mind I should like to leave. Perhaps someone could drive me to the airport?’

  Richard had not moved from his chair. He crossed his ankles lazily, seemingly engrossed in the glowing point of his cigar. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘I should like to go tonight,’ I insisted, my voice rising slightly.

  ‘You can’t, Katherine, I’m sorry. The gates are locked on a time switch at dusk.’ He smiled up at me, all charm once more. I licked my lips nervously trying to keep calm. ‘But surely you can override it?’

  ‘I can. But I don’t choose to. Not tonight.’ He stretched out comfortably and tapped a gobbet of glowing ash onto the paving stones. ‘You must restrain your urge to leave until morning,’ he said. ‘If you are consumed
with restlessness, why don’t you have a swim?’ He indicated the warm aquamarine water at our feet, and once again I saw the amusement in his eyes.

  I was trapped. Trapped in an awful silken web of luxury.

  Trying to hide my agitation I went over to the serving table and helped myself to more coffee, conscious that he was watching me, a slight smile on his lips. Then angrily I turned away and walked to the edge of the pool, whilst behind me Sara had slipped into my vacated chair at his side. I heard her soft laugh as she leaned towards him.

  I made my way over to Dave and we wandered out of earshot on the far side of the pool.

  ‘You’ve got to get me out of here,’ I whispered urgently. ‘Please, help me.’

  He looked at me. ‘I’m sorry, Kate, I can’t do that.’

  My heart sank, but I was determined not to show it. ‘You said Minna was here, ill,’ I whispered accusingly, ‘but she’s not, and now I find myself being kept here against my will! What the hell is going on?’

  He had turned away to stare back across the pool, to where Richard and Sara were talking, their heads almost touching as they leaned towards one another in the low chairs. Calder and Jacqueline were strolling about on the terrace engaged in deep conversation, no longer interested in me.

  ‘I understand Minna decided she was well enough to return home,’ Dave replied guardedly.

  ‘Now that Richard has got his way?’

  My voice had risen slightly and I saw him frown. ‘I don’t know what you are suggesting, Kate –’

  ‘Oh yes you do,’ I interrupted. ‘I am suggesting that she was kept here a prisoner until she signed over her farm. How he forced her I don’t know, but she rang me to warn me and I took no notice, fool that I am.’ I paused bitterly. ‘And now I am a prisoner here in my turn!’

  He looked at me in astonishment. ‘A prisoner? Oh Kate, come on. You’re imagining things.’

  ‘Am I?’ I caught at his arm. ‘Then why aren’t you prepared to help me leave?’