Northanger Abbey

by Val McDermid

  Having finally settled on a simple dark blue dress in a silky fabric that caught the light and made it dance, Cat walked into the Highland Ball in a ferment of expectation. Her eyes darted everywhere, eager to catch a glimpse of Henry Tilney, but equally eager to spot John Thorpe so she might more easily avoid him. She knew she’d be lucky if Henry Tilney came near her after the way John Thorpe had behaved, but she couldn’t help hoping Ellie might have put in a good word for her. But that good word would be wasted if she was being monopolised by the man she devoutly wished not to see.

  This sort of anxiety was entirely new to Cat. She’d only ever been pursued in a half-hearted way by village boys who were going through the motions of courtship, experimenting in a safe zone where it didn’t really matter. Both sides understood these were flirtations with training wheels firmly attached; and besides, Cat had never found any of the local boys even momentarily worthy of her fantasies. This heart-quickening, breath-stopping feeling that hit her whenever she thought of Henry was something she’d only read about, never mind the stomach-clenching dread of being pursued by someone she was growing heartily to dislike. She had no idea how to defend herself against his attentions and she was far too kind simply to tell him to get lost. And she did know enough to understand that being blunt with John could have awkward repercussions for her beloved brother and Bella, neither of whom she wanted to inconvenience.

  Their party was barely inside the ballroom when they were waved over to join the Thorpes. Cat hung back, trying to keep at least one person between her and John. When he greeted her loudly, she pretended she couldn’t hear him over the music. Luckily, she was soon drawn aside by Bella. ‘I know what you’re going to say, but honestly, I am so going to dance with Jamie tonight. I don’t care what people say, he’s such a sweetie. But you have to cover for us. You need to dance with Johnny, so it just looks like the four of us having fun.’ She looked around for her brother. ‘Damn, he’s walking off. But he’ll be back in a minute.’

  There was nothing Cat wanted to say that wouldn’t have hurt her friend’s feelings, so she said nothing, staying put as Bella and James moved off towards the dance floor, resigning herself with heavy heart to being the focus of John Thorpe’s bulldozer bluster. In a bid to avoid his eye, she fished out her phone and pretended to be absorbed in her Facebook page. When a shadow fell over her screen, she was almost too dismayed to look up. But if she had failed to do so, she’d have missed the welcome sight of Henry Tilney leaning towards her, a friendly smile lighting up his dark eyes. ‘Can you drag yourself away from Facebook long enough to dance with me?’ he asked mischievously.

  Although the fantasy of this very moment had enlivened every waking moment of the day, it had not prepared Cat for the warm rush of delight that followed his request. ‘I’d love to,’ she said, thrusting her phone back in her evening bag and taking his proffered arm. She could scarcely credit her luck – not only had she avoided John Thorpe but she’d also won a fresh chance to charm Henry Tilney.

  But no sooner had they made it to the fringe of the dance floor when a familiar voice boomed in her ear. There, right behind them, was her nemesis. ‘Hey, Cat, what are you playing at? I thought we were supposed to be dancing together?’

  ‘I don’t know where you got that idea, since you never asked me.’ Fifteen, love, she thought.

  ‘I did,’ he harrumphed. ‘I asked you as soon as you came in.’

  ‘You did no such thing,’ she said. ‘I haven’t spoken to you all night.’

  ‘Damn it, I only came tonight because you were supposed to be my partner. It’s been fixed since the other night.’

  Henry, smiling, said smoothly, ‘Which is it? This evening or the other evening? You’re really not very convincing.’

  John glared at him. ‘I remember now. It was when you were waiting by the cloakroom for Andy Allen to fetch your coat.’

  ‘It’s a wrap,’ Cat said.

  ‘And here I’ve been telling everybody I’m booked to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. And when they see you dancing with him, I’m going to look a complete twat.’

  ‘Don’t worry, they’ll never think of me after a description like that,’ Cat said, taking pity on him and patting his arm.

  ‘Whereas that description of you . . .’ Henry spoke so softly only Cat could hear and she had to stifle a giggle.

  ‘So who is this tosser you prefer to me?’ John demanded, glowering.

  ‘My name is Henry Tilney,’ Henry said. ‘And I suggest you take some lessons in manners before you speak to Cat again.’

  ‘Tilney? Don’t tell me you’re Freddie Tilney’s baby brother?’ John sneered.

  ‘How do you know my brother? I can’t imagine him having anything to do with someone so ill-mannered.’

  ‘We’re old friends, me and Freddie. I was his potboy at Fenners.’

  ‘That was a long time ago. Now if you’ll excuse us?’ Henry stepped neatly between Cat and John. There was a moment when she thought John would take matters further, but when he turned away, pretending one of his sisters was calling him, she understood that he was the kind of bully who backed down whenever he was confronted. ‘Thank you,’ Cat said, turning back to Henry.

  ‘Just as well he decided to retreat,’ Henry said. ‘Only an idiot takes on a lawyer in a matter of contract.’

  ‘Contract?’

  ‘You and I contracted to dance and he tried to pretend there was a pre-existing contract between you and him. But when his claim was tested, he had to withdraw, exposed as a liar and a cheat.’ His response, which could have been dry and legalistic, was delivered with wit and a sardonic grin.

  ‘I wasn’t aware that agreeing to dance was a legally binding contract.’ She matched his smile.

  ‘Absolutely. Very similar to marriage, in fact.’

  Cat laughed out loud. ‘You’re being silly now.’

  ‘Not at all. Fidelity and mutual consideration are at the heart both of dancing and marriage.’

  ‘And fancy footwork too, obviously. But people that marry are supposed to stay together forever. People that dance only whirl around the room for an hour or two then part.’

  ‘Have you never heard of divorce, woman?’

  ‘I’ve heard of it but we’re not keen on it in my family. My father’s a vicar, you see.’

  ‘My father’s a general, but we’re not keen on it in my family either.’ A momentary shadow fell across his face. ‘Once you’re a Tilney, there’s no escape.’

  ‘Does that go for dancing too, or just marriage?’

  He laughed. ‘Now you’ve got me. But please, can you allow me the luxury of fidelity on the dance floor at least? No more flirting and batting your eyelashes at other men?’ His eyelids lowered as if he were not entirely joking.

  Cat groaned. ‘Johnny Thorpe is my brother’s friend and my friend’s brother. Ignoring him is too awkward. But apart from him, I don’t think I know anyone else in the room who would even want to talk to me.’

  ‘And that’s the only reason? That you don’t know anyone?’

  Cat looked away. ‘I don’t actually want to talk to anybody else.’

  ‘That makes me feel much happier.’ He steered her towards the dance floor with an arm round her shoulder.

  ‘What was all that about Johnny Thorpe knowing your brother? His potboy? What’s that?’ Cat asked.

  ‘Freddie went to Fenwick House School. It’s one of those places that has ideas above itself and has stupid invented names for everything. A potboy is like a fag. A first-year oik who has to run around after the senior men. Like a little servant. Freddie will have bullied the living daylights out of Thorpe, and he’ll have loved every minute of it.’ Henry’s contempt was obvious. ‘But let’s not waste our breath on that idiot. Are you still enjoying Edinburgh? Not tired of it yet?’

  ‘No way. This is the most exciting place I’ve ever been. There’s so much going on, so much to do and see. I was afraid it would all be over my head, the theatre an
d the art and the comedy. But I’ve loved it all.’

  ‘And yet all this lot will disappear like Scotch mist as soon as the festival is over. They’ll flee back to London. Because London is where it’s at, according to them. I’ve even heard them say there’s no politics outside London.’ He gave a bark of laughter. ‘What in the name of God do they think is going on at Holyrood? A debating society? They’re all so bloody smug and narrow. They come here to show how very adventurous they are, turn it into London-on-the-Forth for a month then bugger off again.’ His disdain shone through his every word.

  ‘If they think Edinburgh’s a backwater, they should try a Dorset village. They’d die of boredom.’

  ‘You don’t like the country?’

  ‘I love it. But you have to admit one day is pretty much like another. It’s not like Edinburgh. Or London, I suppose. The only thing I wish is that I knew more people like the ones I’ve met here. Sitting in Susie’s kitchen is mostly the closest I get to intellectual company.’

  ‘Poor you! At least now you’ll be able to entertain them with stories of your cultural adventures in Edinburgh.’

  Cat groaned. ‘Don’t. I’m going to be the world’s biggest bore on the subject. My sisters are already threatening to superglue my mouth shut.’

  ‘Mmm. Lovely girls, by the sound of it.’

  ‘They’re good fun. I just wish they could both be with me to enjoy it here. They’d love it.’

  And on that wistful note, the band struck up a Strip the Willow and all possibility of speech was postponed. At one point, when they were in the middle of the set and Cat was struggling to get her breath back, she noticed a tall, pale-faced man come forward and lean in to whisper something to Henry, who responded at once. The man wore a scarlet tunic with medal ribbons over tartan trews and he was strikingly handsome in spite of his silver temples and somewhat gaunt features. His hair flowed back from the same widow’s peak Cat had noticed on Ellie earlier. He nodded to Henry and melted back into the crowd lining the dance floor. Cat tried to catch his image in the long mirrors that lined one wall of the ballroom, but she was too late and could see no trace of him. Just as if he were a vampire, she thought with a frisson of amusement.

  When next the couple came together, Henry said, ‘That was my father. The man who spoke to me.’

  But the dance separated them again before she could respond. They remained on the floor for a Canadian Barn Dance and an eightsome reel, but finally conceded temporary defeat when a Virginia Reel was announced. Cat and Henry found Ellie in the refreshment room and collapsed on the chairs next to her. ‘I’m puggled,’ Henry said. ‘Cat has worn me out.’

  ‘Wimp,’ his sister said. ‘I’ve just been up for the last three dances with Sandy Baird and I’m fresh as a daisy.’

  ‘Really? I bet you’ll feel it in the morning.’

  Ellie laughed. ‘Is that a challenge? Tell you what, let’s all take a hike up Arthur’s Seat tomorrow. That’ll sort out the sheep from the goats. What do you say, Cat?’

  Cat couldn’t imagine how she would feel in the morning but she didn’t want to miss any possibility of spending time with Henry. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  ‘OK. We’ll pick you up at noon. Deal?’

  Henry agreed. ‘Deal.’

  Cat nodded, but before she could speak, Mr Allen appeared at her side. ‘Cat, Susie’s not feeling very well, so I’m going to take her home. Will you be OK coming back on your own?’

  Cat jumped to her feet. ‘I’ll come with you.’ She turned to her friends. ‘I’d better go in case there’s anything I can do for Susie. She’s taken such good care of me while I’ve been here. And I’ll see you tomorrow at noon?’

  ‘Unless it’s chucking it down,’ Ellie said.

  As she followed Mr Allen from the room, Cat cared not for her aching feet or her tired legs. Inside, her spirit was skipping. It was, she thought, only the start of the dance.

  11

  On the following morning, Cat was so absorbed by the state of the weather she could barely summon enough attention to eat her breakfast. A haar had crept up from the Forth, shrouding the city in thin mist, through which the sun appeared as a pale nimbus struggling to make an impact. Susie, who had spent much of the night in gastrointestinal discomfort, was curled in a chair by the window, gingerly sipping rooibos tea and wincing. ‘If only this mist would clear, it would be a lovely day,’ she said faintly.

  ‘And if only the clouds would thicken up it would be a miserable day,’ Mr Allen contributed from behind the paper. ‘It is what it is.’

  By eleven, flecks of rain started to appear on the windows. Despondent, Cat said, ‘It’s coming on rain.’

  ‘I was afraid of that,’ Susie said.

  ‘It’s just spitting, maybe it’ll pass before noon.’

  ‘You won’t see a bloody thing up Arthur’s Seat in this mist,’ Mr Allen said. ‘Not to mention how muddy it’ll be.’

  ‘I’ve never minded a bit of mud,’ Cat said.

  ‘How true,’ Susie said with feeling.

  ‘And at least I have the right clothes for being outside in bad weather. Oh, it’s too bad, though. People are putting their umbrellas up. It’s coming down harder, and I was so convinced it was going to be a lovely day.’ Cat threw herself discontented into a chair and scowled at the rain.

  ‘There’ll be nobody up at the Book Festival this morning,’ Susie said.

  ‘Apart from the ones with tickets,’ her husband commented.

  ‘I meant, people to talk to, not listen to,’ Susie said.

  ‘Quite.’

  The raindrops fattened and speeded up and the hands of the clock turned just as relentlessly. At noon, there was no respite. ‘I doubt you’ll be walking today,’ Mr Allen said, shrugging into his waxed jacket and heading for the door. ‘I’m off to the Stand for an afternoon of comedy. See you both later.’

  Glum-faced, Cat stared at the rain coursing down the window pane. ‘I’m going to give it another quarter of an hour,’ she announced. ‘I mean, it’s not like one of those thunderstorms with monsoon rain that they had in Banshees of Berneray. The sky could be clear in no time.’

  As if it was listening to her, the clouds began to thin and the rain to slacken. By half past twelve, a gleam of sunshine took Cat quite by surprise. The sky had begun to clear, and even as she watched, scraps of blue sky appeared between the clouds, gradually meeting to form large clear patches. Ten minutes more and there was no doubt that a bright afternoon was on the way. ‘I always thought it would clear up,’ Susie said smugly. ‘But has it cleared up quickly enough for the Tilneys, that’s the question.’

  Or had it cleared up too much, Cat wondered, checking her phone for a text or tweet that would explain her friends’ lateness. She couldn’t help recalling the conversation with Bella where they’d joked about Henry being a vampire. According to what she’d read, cloudy skies were OK, but full sunlight was out of the question. She shook her head, as if that would clear away such a crazy idea. After all, if that was really what was going on with Henry and Ellie, they’d have been knocking at the door with delight in the lashing rain.

  Again Cat crossed to the window and looked down into the street, just in time to see the same two convertibles that had appeared there the day before. ‘It’s Bella and James. And Johnny Thorpe. They must be coming here. But I can’t go off with them, can I? Ellie and Henry might still show up.’

  John Thorpe’s voice arrived before he did, echoing up the stairwell. ‘Cat! Get a move on, girl, we’re on double yellows, for God’s sake,’ he bellowed as he climbed. She opened the door and he sighed histrionically. ‘At last. Get your coat on, we’re going to Glasgow.’ He stuck his head into the flat. ‘Morning, Mrs A.’

  ‘Glasgow? Isn’t that miles away? Like, on the other side of the country?’

  ‘You’ve seen how fast my wheels go, we’ll be there in no time. Trust me. Come on, girl.’

  ‘Plus, I’ve got some friends coming round. Any minute n
ow.’

  ‘They’ll understand. It’s not every day you get the chance of a stunning drive across to Glasgow. It’ll be a cracking day out. Jamie and I had this brilliant idea at breakfast, only we thought it was going to be stymied by the weather. But no! Here’s the sun—’ He gestured expansively as if to take credit for the improvement in the weather.

  ‘And I’m supposed to be going out with friends,’ Cat said with finality.

  A sly look crossed his face. ‘What if I threw in a haunted palace?’

  He could not have found a better way through Cat’s defences. Her distaste for him dissolved at such a prospect. ‘A haunted palace?’

  He nodded triumphantly. ‘Linlithgow Palace. The ruined pleasure-dome of the royal Stewarts. The birthplace of Mary, Queen of Scots.’ He lowered his voice to a sepulchral hollowness. ‘They say it’s haunted by her mother, Mary of Guise.’

  ‘And are there towers and long galleries and battlements?’

  John nodded. ‘All you could wish for in a royal ruin.’

  Cat groaned. ‘It sounds heavenly. But I can’t go, I really can’t.’

  At that moment, Bella joined her brother on the stairs. ‘Can’t go? Are you crazy? It’s haunted, for God’s sake, Cat. Haunted.’

  Cat looked over her shoulder towards Susie, both for support and to avoid meeting Bella’s eye. ‘I made arrangements with Ellie Tilney and her brother to go up Arthur’s Seat. They were supposed to be here at noon, but it was raining, so they’ll probably be here any minute now.’