‘Please.’ Clare was staring at the item at the bottom of the page.
‘As investment banker, Paul Royland, prepares to face serious fraud charges in the City, his wife is seen in Scotland in the company of conservationist Neil Forbes. Friends say they are inseparable …’
Clare dropped the paper. She threw back the bedclothes and groped for her slippers. ‘Where’s Neil?’ Her hands were shaking.
‘I think he’s taking the dog for a walk –’
She was grabbing her clothes already. ‘Thank you, Cat. I’ll have breakfast downstairs, later.’ She dived past the astonished girl into the bathroom and began to throw on her shirt and sweater, then her jeans, fumbling with the zip in her haste as she pulled them up over her hips.
Jack Grant was in the hotel office. She threw the paper down in front of him. ‘Is it true? Is my husband being charged with fraud?’
Jack nodded slowly. ‘So the papers say. Neil was trying to keep it from you for as long as possible. He didn’t want you to fash yourself about it. The man has to face his own destiny.’
Clare sat down on the wooden chair near him, her face troubled. ‘I should really be with him.’
‘Why? You’ve left him.’ Jack shuffled a bundle of invoices together and tucked them into a drawer. ‘You’ve made your decision, lassie, don’t go back on it now. You’d never forgive yourself. You’ve a good man in Neil Forbes. Let him guide you.’
‘Was it you who told the press we were together?’ She was still frowning.
‘It was not! I talk to the press about the campaign as much as possible – we all agreed that was the right thing to do – but never about things that don’t concern them, and they’ve not asked. But all they had to do was use their eyes.’ He smiled benevolently. ‘Anyone can see you’re in love with him.’
Clare smiled doubtfully. ‘But is he in love with me?’ Her tone was wistful.
‘He’d be mad not to be,’ Jack answered. It wasn’t quite the affirmation for which she had hoped.
She did not refer to the newspaper article when Neil came back with Casta and neither did he. Jack told him later that she knew, and he watched her covertly, trying to see if she was upset about it, just as he watched for signs that Isobel had come with them back to Duncairn. Every now and then he still sensed a preoccupation in her which worried him, a tenseness which would grip her suddenly when she thought he wasn’t looking and set her listening to some distant sound he could not hear.
She seemed content to stay at Duncairn as the weather closed in however, so when the time came to go back to Edinburgh he left her there. There had been no further word of Paul, rather to his surprise, which had relieved him enormously, but still he felt safer with her away from the capital. If Paul had thought of returning to Duncairn they would all have heard about it by now, so it seemed safe to assume that he was still in Edinburgh or that he had returned to London. ‘I’ll be back at the weekend, Clare,’ he reassured her. ‘There is no point in your coming. You stay here with Casta. The air is doing you good and there is a lot to do up here.’ She had put on a little weight, he noticed, and her eyes were brighter. The hunted look was less often there. And she was busy.
Besides all the work she was doing for Earthwatch she had, with a new burst of energy, begun to help Jack with the hotel as well, thinking up ideas for refurbishment in the spring, together with methods of publicising it a little more – not too much, but enough to increase their turnover. The publicity about the oil was already bringing in the curious and the concerned – there had been twenty extra people for lunch on Saturday, and they had had hundreds of signatures added to the petition against the oil which had been left in the bar – but they needed to plan long-term.
‘I’ll miss you.’ She clung to him suddenly.
‘It’s only for a few days. I’ll come back on Friday night. I promise.’ Gently he pushed her away. ‘You have to learn to do without me, Clare.’
‘Why?’ Suddenly she was panicstricken. ‘Why, where are you going?’
‘I’m going nowhere, but you have to learn to stand on your own feet. You know you do. Without Paul.’ He mentioned the name deliberately. ‘Without me and without Isobel.’
She looked away. ‘You’re right. But what if Paul comes?’
‘He won’t come here.’ He said it grimly, hoping it was true. ‘He’s gone back to London to prepare his defence.’
David and Geoffrey Royland sat facing Neil in the Earth-watch office as the sleet slanted down the street outside, the two large men in their heavy dark overcoats, the one with the old Etonian tie, the other wearing a dog collar, dwarfing the small office.
‘It is important we see Clare,’ David said slowly. ‘I don’t know how much our brother has explained to you, but she is in urgent need of very specialised help.’ His tone was already patronising.
‘She is getting that help.’ Neil stood behind his desk, a pen in his hand. He looked from one to the other with cold politeness. Their visit had been an unexpected shock. ‘Was there anything else?’
‘Yes, by God there was!’ David was suddenly angry. ‘We want to see her.’
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible.’
‘Please, Mr Forbes.’ Geoffrey had noted the hardness settling into Neil’s face as David began to speak. ‘We really do have Clare’s best interests at heart.’
‘Do you indeed?’ Neil glanced at him. ‘Well, I’m sorry. All I can do is relay Clare’s wishes to you. She no longer considers herself part of the Royland family. She is seeking a divorce from her husband and she does not wish to see any of you for the present. I’m sure you can respect and understand her feelings under the circumstances.’
‘No,’ David frowned. ‘I’m afraid we can’t, nor can we accept you’ – there was a slight hesitation at the pronoun, enough to convey David’s disdain – ‘as her spokesman. Divorce is out of the question.’
Neil kept his voice calm with difficulty. ‘I think that is for Clare to say.’
‘No. My sister-in-law is not competent to judge her own or anyone else’s wishes.’ David’s face was growing florid. ‘And I should point out that anyone keeping her from us could find themselves in serious trouble with the law. Abduction is a criminal offence, Mr Forbes!’
‘I’ve not abducted Clare.’ Neil was keeping a rein on his temper with difficulty. ‘She is a free agent.’
‘Clare is a very sick young woman,’ Geoffrey put in before his brother could reply. ‘Sick in her mind. You must realise that if you know her at all well. This isn’t a matter merely of marital disharmony.’
‘Marital disharmony!’ David snorted. ‘This man has been screwing our brother’s wife! And whilst the balance of her mind is disturbed!’
‘David –’ Geoffrey’s indignant reply was lost as Neil burst into laughter.
‘You pompous bastard!’ he shouted. ‘There is nothing wrong with Clare that separating her as far as possible from people like you won’t cure her of. If men like you are in charge of this country, God help us all! Get out of my office, both of you! And I advise you not to try accusing me of abduction!’ His eyes had narrowed dangerously. ‘Or the papers will hear the real story of Paul Royland and his wife and their marriage! And if you are thinking of bringing in the law, Sir David Royland,’ – the contempt in his voice as he used David’s title was every bit as real as David’s own had been – ‘I should think again. Having heard Clare’s story – and spoken to the witnesses she can produce who have seen your precious brother’s behaviour towards her – my legal advisers would wipe the floor with you.’
After the Roylands had left he stood for a long time at the small rear window looking up at the great rock out of which Edinburgh Castle grew. His heart was still slamming against his ribs with fury, his fists clenched. He was very afraid. Not for himself, but for Clare. For the first time he realised fully just what she was taking on. The Royland family were closing ranks. Faced with Paul’s troubles they were calling in every card they po
ssessed and they had a great many: wealth, power, influence, the establishment background, the bland confidence of the Church, the influence and respectability of Parliament, no doubt the closing ranks of the City, perhaps the aristocracy as well, for all he knew. And they all wanted Clare. He sighed. He was frightened of the emphasis they were putting on her state of mind. There was something sinister there; something he did not like at all.
He thought back suddenly to the hotel room at Berwick. The spirit of the Countess of Buchan had been in that room as surely as had Clare herself, but had Clare summoned her there, an entity from another time, or was she merely the creation of a disturbed and tortured mind? That he didn’t know. He shivered, and for the first time he began to doubt.
He turned away from the window sharply and picked up the phone. He had to warn Jack to hide her somehow. The Roylands had threatened to accuse him of abduction. He had no doubt at all that they would think nothing of doing it themselves.
The number was still ringing when Jim Campbell came into the office. Under his arm was a newspaper. His face was grim. Tearing off his scarf he threw it down on the chair, then he put the newspaper on the desk in front of Neil, and thumped it with his fist. ‘Look.’
Neil looked down at the screaming headline and suddenly he felt sick. ‘Sigma Oil buy the Duncairn estate in £1 million deal,’ it said.
Paul was sitting in the drawing room at Airdlie, staring at the huge blazing fire as Antonia poured tea from the silver teapot.
‘We were devastated when we read it in the papers, Paul,’ she said. ‘Devastated. How can they print such scandal?’
‘You’ll have to sue them, old boy.’ Archie had stuck his stockinged feet on the fender near the recumbent bodies of the two dogs.
‘I’m afraid I can’t.’ Paul took a deep breath. For a moment he had thought they were talking about Duncairn. That fool Doug Warner! By spilling the beans before everything was finalised he had put the whole deal in jeopardy. Now it was even more imperative that he find Clare, and find her before anyone else did.
No one had queried the signatures; no one would as long as Clare kept quiet. And still he didn’t know where she was!
He smiled at his parents-in-law coldly. ‘I was caught on a technicality. It was just bad luck; I did something everyone used to do all the time in the City, and people used to turn a blind eye to it. All I was doing was keeping my ears open. Five years ago it wouldn’t have been considered wrong. Everyone did it. Sadly some of these jumped-up Johnnies in the City nowadays have no idea how to turn their backs like gentlemen.’ He knew this would appeal to Archie.
Antonia passed him a cup. ‘My dear, it is simply ghastly for you. Is there nothing you can do?’
‘I can get a bloody good lawyer.’ Paul sat back in his chair with a sigh. ‘Or at least the bank will. In fact they already have. It’s the least they could do for me.’
‘And meanwhile?’ Archie sounded cautious.
‘Meanwhile, I’m taking some time away from the bank. Until after Christmas, so that Clare and I can sort things out. I’ve missed her dreadfully.’ He glanced from one to the other. ‘You know where she is, I suppose.’
He waited, his hand stirring the sugarless tea in the cup, as husband and wife looked at each other. He was holding his breath.
‘She’s in Edinburgh, Paul,’ Antonia said at last. ‘With this terrible animal protection person. It’s been all over the papers up here.’
‘It’s been all over the papers everywhere,’ Paul said coldly. ‘Has she rung you lately?’
Archie shook his head. ‘James saw her briefly, after she left here.’ He looked embarrassed for a moment. ‘She hasn’t bothered to ring us or anything. I had to go all the way to Glasgow to collect the car. My car! She’s a spoiled thoughtless –’
‘Archie!’ His wife looked at him reprovingly. ‘She was very upset and disturbed when she was here. We’ve been worried sick, Paul.’
Paul put down his cup. ‘As I have. We have to find her. My brother Geoffrey has agreed to come up here to see her; to help her, if only we can find her.’
‘She’s not at Duncairn, is she?’ Archie helped himself to one of his wife’s drop scones. He loaded it with butter.
Paul shook his head. ‘I rang Grant. It was the first thing I did. He said he hadn’t seen her since she and Forbes went off to Berwick together.’
‘Berwick?’ Archie looked startled. ‘What did they want to go to Berwick for?’
Antonia bit her lip. She was suddenly thoughtful. Berwick was where they had hung the cage. She remembered Margaret telling her – telling the children – endlessly, even after she had begged her to stop because Clare was getting obsessed by the story … Margaret. It always came back to Margaret. All this washer fault …
Paul was shrugging his shoulders. ‘God knows why Berwick! There was probably some rare lichen there that some poor sod was about to tread on and Forbes is going to lynch him for it. Anyway, he’s back in Edinburgh now, I gather, but Clare is not with him.’ He paused. ‘I had a long conversation with a woman friend of Forbes’s. Very interesting. She had met Clare a couple of times and she was very concerned about her state of mind.’ He paused again, looking from one to the other. ‘She certainly believes that Clare has been possessed and by a spirit that is evil and out to destroy her. She knows something about these things apparently. You have to help me. Please.’ His voice was tight with emotion suddenly. ‘I want to bring Clare here, not take her to some awful clinic; I want to bring her here for Geoffrey to take care of. Can I? Please?’ He looked as though he was on the brink of tears. ‘We have to save her between us. This woman – Kathleen – says she can find out where Clare is. I’ve given her this phone number … I knew you wouldn’t mind –’
* * *
‘Well, did you sleep with him?’ Peter’s voice was harsh.
Emma stared at him. ‘What do you mean? For God’s sake, Julia’s next door!’
‘Quite! Was she next door then?’
‘Peter. I did not sleep with anyone!’ Emma was suddenly beside herself with anger. ‘I suppose you mean Rex? I’ve never slept with him. I never intend to sleep with him. He is a friend. A friend, Peter! You have friends, no doubt, of the opposite sex – or do you sleep with every woman you know?’
They were standing facing each other across his open suitcase as it lay on the bed. Inside, on top, lay the presents he had spent so long choosing for her and Julia in C. K. Tang in Orchard Street in Singapore.
In the living room Julia put her fingers in her ears. She was crying.
‘I’ve never slept with anyone but you since we were married,’ Peter retorted quietly. The bald statement in the silence sounded desperate. He smiled, suddenly embarrassed. ‘I know you don’t expect a man to admit something like that, but it happens to be true.’ He pulled a couple of pairs of trousers from the case and busied himself finding hangers.
‘Neither have I!’ Emma’s words came out as a whisper.
‘So.’ He looked at her sharply. ‘In that case I apologise.’
‘I wanted to sleep with him,’ she went on, unable to hold back the words. ‘I was so lonely.’
‘You know he’s been using you, don’t you?’ Peter still had his back to her. ‘All along all he wanted was Duncairn.’
‘No, Peter. He’s withdrawn his offer.’ She sat down on the bed.
Peter turned and looked at her, his face hard. ‘Is that what he told you?’
She nodded.
‘Then he lied to you, Em. It was in the papers this morning. Sigma have bought Duncairn. Clare must have changed her mind and agreed.’
‘That’s not true –’
‘It is true. I’ve got the newspaper downstairs.’
‘But Rex promised –’ she stopped suddenly. ‘Rex isn’t with Sigma any more. They gave him the push. They said he was mad to want to buy Duncairn and told him to take early retirement. If Sigma bought Duncairn after all, it was over his head and it will break his hea
rt.’
‘Tough. So, he’s over the hill is he, your dream boat?’ He laughed bitterly. ‘Not exactly a toy boy, obviously. But he didn’t want Duncairn for the oil, did he? He wanted to restore it. That’s why they thought he was getting past it. Can you imagine! It’s a ruin!’ He stopped as Emma stood up.
‘Peter –’
‘He’s ruined himself for a ruin, Em.’ He swallowed a couple of times, hard. ‘Don’t let him ruin us as well. Please.’ He couldn’t hide the anguish in his face as he looked at her, the pain behind his eyes belying his attempt at light-hearted word play.
She stared across at him for a moment, unable to speak, then she took a step towards him. ‘Oh, Peter.’ She threw her arms around his neck. ‘He is not going to come between us. It’s you I love. You know it is.’ She was fighting back her tears.
‘Come with me then on my next trip,’ he said softly. ‘Please.’
‘What about Julia?’ She had buried her face in his shirt front. ‘What about the gallery?’
‘Julia can stay with Tamsin, and you can find someone to take care of the gallery. Darling –’ He held her at arms’ length. ‘I have to go back almost at once –’
‘No, Peter –’ It was a wail of anguish.
‘I have to, Em. Come with me. The office can arrange everything for you.’
‘I can’t, Peter. I can’t arrange it all in time. Julia can’t be without me for so long –’
‘I can’t be without you, Emma.’ He sat down abruptly on the bed. ‘I know I don’t always say the right things’ – he hesitated – ‘and I know I’m sometimes a bit … distant … But it’s not that I don’t love you –’
‘It’s just that you love the job more!’
Emma hadn’t intended to say it. She had promised herself she would compromise, anything to bring them back together. The relationship was too fragile at the moment for recrimination.
‘No, Emma –’
‘Yes.’ She spoke very quietly. ‘You say you have to go back straight away. For how long, Peter? What about Christmas? Were you expecting Tamsin’s parents to keep Julia for Christmas?’
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