by SL Beaumont
Chapter 23
Dusk was beginning to fall when the librarian locked the door behind her. Stephanie walked back up the hill to the taxi stand outside the hospital and took a taxi back to Wakefield House.
The Fiat, parked in front of the house, was dwarfed by half a dozen black estate cars. Stephanie was relieved to see that the windscreen had been repaired. The garage must have returned it, while I was in London, she thought, giving it a welcome home pat.
There were lights on in the guest house, but the blinds were drawn, so she couldn’t see who was inside.
Ellie had left a note stuck to Stephanie’s bedroom door, letting her know that she was visiting friends and would be back later. Stephanie’s stomach suddenly rumbled. It had been a long time since her coffee and bagels at Anna’s. She cooked herself a quick plate of scrambled eggs on toast and washed it down with a glass of orange juice.
After dinner, Stephanie wandered restlessly around the house studying the various photos that her grandmother had hanging on the walls and in frames on the piano in the sitting room, hoping they would give a clue to the family mystery. But the faces simply smiled back at her, retaining their secrets behind the glass.
Bored, she decided to drive back into the village and visit Michael again. She packed a small container of muffins and grapes to take for Michael’s mother, in case she hadn’t managed to get any dinner. The hospital café was sure to be operating on similar hours to the library in a village this size.
Her mind was still going over all the events of the last few days as she drove down the lane. If Dad and his guests are planning on ‘dropping in’ to the Knoxes, then I wonder if the Knoxes are expecting them? She puzzled over this for a few minutes. It just didn’t sit right that her dad would be working with Alex, especially if it was to do with art of questionable provenance. I wonder what’s happening at Knox Manor? An idea began to take shape in her mind as she parked at the hospital. Once it’s dark I will pay Knox Manor a visit and see what is going on there. Maybe I’ll see Dad arrive for whatever meeting he was planning.
There was no change with Michael. His mother was grateful for the food and they sat and chatted quietly for a while, with Michael sleeping peacefully beside them. A nurse bustled in and checked on Michael at regular intervals, each time pronouncing that he was doing just fine and giving a reassuring smile.
After about an hour, Stephanie said her goodbyes and promised to visit again the next day.
She drove out towards Knox Manor and turned into a farm gateway about a kilometre from the house. Pulling a small flashlight from the glove compartment as she jumped out, she carefully locked the car. She shrugged her long jacket on over her jeans, buttoning it up to the neck. The evening was still, crisp and clear and the stars were scattered across the sky like a sprinkling of glitter. She shivered slightly and could feel her heart starting to beat a little faster as adrenaline kicked in. The old wooden gate shuddered and creaked as she climbed over it.
Switching on the flashlight and pointing it at the ground, she walked across two gently rising fields until the chimneys of Knox Manor came into view. Quickly crossing the next two fields, keeping close to the hedgerows that served as fences, she stumbled once or twice on the uneven ground. She came to the tall stone wall which bordered the gardens of the manor and skirted along it a little way looking for an opening. Her breath was coming faster and forming condensation in front of her. A little way along there was a break in the wall. The gap was filled by a rusty looking metal gate and she gave it a gentle push with her foot. To her surprise it swung open, but made a loud creaking noise. She froze and flattened herself against the outside of the wall, desperately listening in case the creaky gate had attracted attention.
There was nothing but silence. Cautiously she crept through the gate, leaving it open so as not to make any further noise, and carefully wove her way between the trees, shrubs and garden borders towards the house.
She crept around to the front corner and took up a position beside a row of low trees where she had a good view in one of the rooms. The lights were on and she could hear the murmur of voices. Suddenly Alex sauntered across the room, glass in hand, talking to someone out of her line of sight. She was so focussed on what he was doing that she didn’t hear the crack of a twig to her left until it was too late. It was all she could do not to scream with fright.
“You just don’t listen, do you? Why are you hanging around outside my house after dark?” James sneered. “I don’t think I could have been any clearer, when I said, keep away from us.”
Stephanie said nothing, she was suddenly too frightened. In the darkness, she realised just how much bigger than her he was. She opened her mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t form.
“Do you really have nothing better to do on a Saturday night?” he taunted.
“It’s not like that,” she blurted out, suddenly indignant. You conceited prat.
Movement in the window momentarily distracted them both. Victoria came into view laughing – glass of wine in her hand. Stephanie groaned inwardly.
“What’s she doing here?” James murmured, as Stephanie took a couple of tentative steps away from him, readying herself to run. A hand clamped on her arm.
“Where do you think you are going?” James said.
Laughter came from the study and they both looked up as Victoria stopped by the tall wing-backed chair in which someone was reclining, and bent to kiss them. Stephanie felt James stiffen beside her.
“What the?” he began.
The person in the chair rose and pulled Victoria into a passionate embrace. When they pulled apart, he turned his head slightly. James gasped. It was his brother, Alex.
Suddenly the front of the house was bathed in light. Two dark cars, followed by two police cars, with their lights flashing blue and red, sped up the driveway and around the lake.
This time Stephanie didn’t miss the opportunity of James being distracted. She violently pulled free from his grasp, shoving him roughly away and leapt over the box hedging at the edge of the garden and began running as hard as she could away from the house and driveway, back towards the gate in the wall. Her heart was racing. She could hear James’s footsteps behind her.
“Steph. Stop,” he called out in an urgent whisper.
Yeah, right, she thought, frantically trying to remember the way she had come.
She zigzagged through the trees at the edge of the garden trying to lose him, but got herself lost in the process.
“Stephanie. What’s going on here?” his voice sounded close behind her.
She made the mistake of hesitating trying to decide which way to go and found herself slammed into the ground.
“Ouch,” she cried indignantly, struggling under his weight to get free.
“Sorry – stay down,” he said as a powerful flashlight swept over where they had been standing. “What are the police doing here?” he whispered in her ear. He eased his weight off her onto his elbows and knees, but she could still feel his breath against her cheek.
There were the sounds of loud voices and running footsteps back at the house.
“How would I know – I’m just a stalker, remember. Now get off me,” she said.
“Steph…..” James began, as he loosened his hold on her.
She pushed him away and scrambled to her feet. Her emotions – anger, fear and frustration – all rose to the surface in one hot bubble and overflowed. “No. You listen to me. First the brick through my car window, then a car trying to run me down outside the club in London last night, and now Michael is unconscious in hospital and my great-uncle’s memoirs that he had with him are missing.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you and your family are up to, but I’ve had it. I will not be your next victim,” she said in a low sharp voice.
He leapt to his feet and stood in front of her looking confused. “Wait – Mikey’s in hospital?” he said.
She saw red. How can he stand there and act so
innocent when he is clearly right in the middle of whatever Alex and his grandfather were up to? “Oh sod off, James,” she hissed and punched him in the face. A hard right hook. She was suddenly grateful for having a mother who insisted she take self-defence classes with her. James went down. Stephanie turned and ran for her life. This time he didn’t follow. Somehow she managed to find the gate in the wall again and bolted through it to freedom.
Stephanie was shaking and out of breath when she reached her car, still parked where she had left it tucked in the farm gateway. She got in and drove quickly home, letting herself in through the kitchen entrance.
The lights were still on in the guest house and she could hear muffled voices. She crept up the stairs and into her bedroom, and throwing off her coat and kicking off her shoes, changed out of her dirty jeans and top and into a simple wrap dress. Exhausted by the events of the last few days, she collapsed on her sofa, nursing her bruised knuckles and picked up Sophie’s diary to re-read her last entries.
A little while later she stuck her head into her grandmother’s bedroom. The old lady was back home and tucked up in bed with a book open on her lap, reading.
“I thought I heard a car, a little while ago. Did you have a nice time in London?” Ellie asked.
“Yes, Grandma, but I’m tired, so I’m off to bed. Who does Dad have here with him?” Stephanie said.
“Don’t know, dear. Some legal matter. Oh, I almost forgot. How’s Michael?” she enquired.
Stephanie leaned over and kissed her grandmother’s soft wrinkled cheek. “Still unconscious, I’m afraid. Mrs Morgan said that she will text if anything changes.”
“Oh dear.” Ellie laid a hand on one side of Stephanie’s face and smiled indulgently. “I’m glad you are home safely.”
Instead of going straight to her room, Stephanie skipped downstairs and out across the driveway to the guest house. She was surprised to see a man standing to attention outside the closed door. He looked as startled as she was.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, matching his tone. “Is my father here?”
He stared at her for a few seconds and said, “One moment.” He turned, knocked and opened the door. Stephanie peered past him into the room. Around the large oval oak table were seated at least twelve men. She recognised none of them except Vince, who was standing writing on a white board. Stephanie shuddered. What was that creepy guy doing there?
“….and without a search warrant, we couldn’t find anything,” a bodiless voice spoke from a speaker on the centre of the table.
“Excuse me, Mr Cooper. Your daughter?” the man on the door said, interrupting.
The room instantly went silent and Max appeared in the doorway. He nodded to the doorman and the door was immediately closed behind him. He took Stephanie’s arm and led her away from the meeting and back across the driveway towards the house.
“What are you doing home? I thought you were spending a few days with Anna.” He sounded slightly annoyed.
“I was, but Michael’s had a car accident, so I came home to visit him in hospital,” she replied, thinking on her feet. “What’s with the meeting – must be pretty serious for a Saturday night?”
“Oh yes, you know how negotiations go sometimes. Now I have to get back in there – so they don’t make any decisions without me,” he laughed humourlessly. “Was there anything in particular that you needed?”
“No, Dad, just thought you’d like to know that I was home. Goodnight,” she said as she reached up her tiptoes and kissed his cheek and walked back inside, leaving him looking warily after her.
She suddenly wasn’t sure that she wanted to share the result of her investigations with her father. It was a strange sensation, but she felt as though she didn’t completely trust him anymore. All those years of visiting as a child and actually, I don’t really know anything about him, she mused sadly.