The Winter Folly

by Taylor, Lulu

  Delilah felt strangely impervious to his presence in a way she hadn’t just a few days before. He was smiling down at her, his eyes tender and knowing, as though they shared a special bond. Do we? she wondered. She couldn’t feel it. Whatever it was she’d once felt towards him had completely vanished. Oh my God, I’ve been an idiot.

  He frowned, sensing her distance. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, wishing she could find a way to stop this from happening now and be free of him so that she could get to John. Everything in her yearned to find her husband and tell him what she knew.

  ‘Come and sit down then,’ he said, gesturing to the bench up against the brick wall. ‘I’ve missed you. I want to talk to you.’

  She tried to hide her eagerness to be gone. She owed Ben something, she felt, after what had happened at their last meeting. She’d implied that all he had to do was be patient and she’d eventually fall into his arms. She’d felt it then but she didn’t feel it now. There wasn’t a trace of it.

  Why is the human heart so strange? We’re capable of such constancy and such mutability at the same time. But something’s changed for me – I know I want to be with John. Did I decide that in Greece? Or was it just today when I talked to Vanna?

  All she could be sure of was that it had happened.

  Ben sat down on the worn wooden bench and watched expectantly as she joined him, sitting far enough away that there was a stretch of the seat between them. There was a pause and as it grew, his expression became troubled. ‘Delilah, is something wrong?’

  ‘No . . . no, of course not.’

  ‘I get the feeling you don’t particularly want to be here.’

  She looked away, flustered for a moment.

  ‘Ever since I left, I’ve been thinking about what happened between us at the pool,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I tried to tell you what I’m feeling for you and I got the impression you felt the same. Did I get the wrong message? Have I made a dick of myself?’

  She felt awkward and guilty, as though she was breaking a promise. But I never did promise anything, she reminded herself. It had all been unspoken. She turned to him, her expression beseeching. ‘Ben, all I can say is that was a very bad moment for me. John and I have had our troubles lately and I was feeling sorry for myself and very vulnerable. I shouldn’t have given you the idea that anything might happen between us. You’re a lovely guy but we can’t be more than friends and I’m sorry if I made you think any different.’ She looked straight at him and said firmly, ‘I love John.’

  ‘Do you?’ Ben frowned. He leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his thighs, and clasped his hands. He looked so young suddenly. ‘Do you? I wish I could understand it. You’re so warm and full of life and so beautiful. He’s so morose, so cold, so unfeeling. Look, he has all this and he has you and he’s still not bloody happy!’ He turned to face her, and took a deep breath as if about to deliver a speech he had rehearsed. ‘Listen, if this is what matters to you, you should know that if John doesn’t have kids, I’m the next in line to inherit Fort Stirling, after my dad. I would be the owner of all this. If you felt something for me, you could still have it! The house, the gardens, the title. You don’t have to give that up. We could share it all together. Can’t you see it? We’d be great together, once John was out of the way.’

  She stared at him, horrified. ‘Ben – how can you say that?’ she whispered.

  He looked sheepish. ‘I’m sorry if it came out brutally, but I had to say that if losing this is what’s stopping you from being with me – well, it’s not the case. I can offer it to you, as long as John doesn’t have kids. Please, I’m asking you to think about it.’

  She straightened her back, furious with him now. ‘There’s nothing to think about! It’s none of your business but I didn’t marry him for the house or the gardens, and I wouldn’t be with you for them either!’ She stood up. ‘I’m sorry you think I’m the kind of woman who would do that.’

  He couldn’t look at her but stared at the ground intently.

  ‘I think you’ve got me wrong, Ben,’ she said. ‘There’s really nothing between us, just a friendship that we fleetingly mistook for something else. I love my husband and I’ll do everything I can before I give up on my marriage.’

  ‘Is that your final word?’ he said, looking up, his eyes now cold.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Fine.’ He got up and strode away over the gravel. She watched him go and sighed. That was over now, and she was relieved. Now she had to find John.

  The doors to the old coach house stood open, letting the afternoon sun in. Delilah could hear the mutter of low voices as she came near and paused at the open doors for a moment to see Nicky, white haired and stooped, sitting opposite John, who leaned towards his father, listening intently to what he was saying and occasionally answering. She felt moved suddenly by the strength of their relationship and how close they evidently were, and was sure again that Alexandra had renounced John for herself so that Nicky might have this precious bond with his only child.

  John looked up and saw her, and his eyes turned cold and stony. It seemed that he was still in no mood for listening to her. Her heart sank but she said as cheerfully as she could, ‘Hello, you two. How are you?’

  Nicky looked at her, startled by her arrival. ‘Hello, dear. You’re . . .’

  ‘Delilah,’ she supplied, smiling at him.

  His brow furrowed and he looked thoughtful. Then his faded grey eyes lit up and he said, ‘John’s wife!’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ She was touched by his sudden recollection of her. ‘I wonder if you’d mind if I steal John away for a while? I need to talk to him.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Nicky said. He seemed very lucid. ‘You two ought to spend some time together. I’ve wondered why I never see you. Will you come by next time and have some tea and a chat?’

  ‘Of course,’ Delilah said, touched. She thought of his loneliness, remembering what Erryl had said about Nicky’s sadness. He had lost half his family, for nothing. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away. ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘Off you go, boy,’ Nicky said to John, flapping a hand at him.‘Go and be with your lovely wife. Don’t waste a minute.’

  ‘See you later, Dad,’ John mumbled, disconcerted by his father’s command. He stood up and glanced at Delilah, then walked past her out into the garden. She went after him, trotting to catch up with his stride. He stared straight ahead, not looking at her. ‘What’s all this about?’ he asked curtly.

  ‘John, please – stop. I need to talk to you. It’s important. It’s really important.’ She put a hand on his arm. He stopped and turned to look at her.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I need you to listen properly.’ She saw his expression change to exasperation. She needed to be quick, she could see that. Any moment now, he would stride away and it would all be lost. She might never get another chance like this. She took a deep breath and said, ‘I know why your mother left you.’

  He frowned at her, puzzled, as he took in what she said. ‘What are you talking about?’

  She clutched at him again, desperate to convey the importance of what she had to say. ‘I’ve found out! The vicar took me to the old people’s home in Rawlston and your mother’s old maid was there and she told me – she told me why! My God, John, you won’t believe it, it’s too incredible.’

  He stared at her suspiciously, thrusting his hands in his pockets. ‘The old people’s home?’ He gave a cold, contemptuous laugh. ‘Have you dug someone up to tell me that my mother was an angel after all? Because I warn you, it isn’t going to work. I told you. She’s dead. As far as I’m concerned that’s the way it’s going to stay.’

  ‘If that’s how you want it, then fine,’ she said gently. ‘But before you make your final decision on that, why not make sure you know everything?’

  He shrugged as though uninterested in the idea that there might be anything he didn’t
know. ‘All right. Tell me.’

  ‘Let’s sit down.’ She led him to the nearest bench, a stone one that faced a small fountain spouting four twinkling arcs of water into the pond below. ‘I need you to listen carefully. You know that your sister died in a hit-and-run, and your mother supposedly killed herself – at least, so you thought until you found out a few months ago that she was still alive?’

  ‘Yes.’ His voice was studiedly blank.

  ‘Who told you she’d killed herself?’ Delilah asked, suddenly diverted. ‘Was it your father?’

  John seemed to be remembering despite himself and after a moment he murmured, ‘No, no . . . he never said that to me. He told me she’d gone away. It was Nanny who told me that she’d jumped off the folly. Well . . .’ He frowned as if with the effort of pulling up old memories. ‘She didn’t know I was listening, to be fair. They were talking about it – her and the nursery maid – and I was awake and I heard them say, “Well, she jumped off, didn’t she? She jumped off the folly.” And I knew that they meant my mother.’

  ‘You didn’t ask your father?’

  He laughed mirthlessly. ‘I would have sooner stabbed my eyes out than talk about the thing that so evidently destroyed my father. I never mentioned any of it, and I knew he would lie to protect me too. I assumed he’d told me she’d gone away in the same way that our dogs “went away” – they’d died but he tried to pretend it was something else. And I had no reason to think my mother was alive. I never heard from her, there was no prospect of her returning.’

  She took his hand and held it gently, glad that he was letting her do so. ‘John, it wasn’t your mother who jumped off the folly. It was your grandmother. The rumours in the village managed to turn your mother’s sudden absence into a mysterious death. That must have been what your nanny was talking about. But it wasn’t true.’

  He looked pale and strained as he took this in. ‘Right.’ He shook his head. ‘Good God, no wonder I hate the damn place. I always knew something vile happened there.’

  ‘I’m just sorry you heard all that gossip and believed it. That must have made it much worse for you.’ She stroked the back of his hand. ‘But I’m glad your father never lied to you.’

  There was a pause and then John said roughly, ‘So why? You said you know why. Why did my mother leave?’

  ‘I think . . . she did it for your father.’

  ‘What?’ he snapped. ‘Don’t talk rubbish.’ He went as if to get up, but Delilah stopped him, speaking quickly.

  ‘It wasn’t just any hit-and-run driver that killed Elaine. Your mother was behind the wheel of the car and she killed Elaine in a terrible accident.’

  John pulled in a sharp breath and recoiled as if struck.

  ‘You didn’t know . . .’

  ‘No! No, of course not. Christ, how dreadful. Oh my God.’ He groaned and put his hand to his head. ‘I can’t believe that.’

  ‘It’s appalling,’ she agreed wholeheartedly. ‘Ever since I found that out, I can’t stop seeing it. That poor child – and your poor mother. But it’s more understandable when you know what happened to her earlier that afternoon. She was in shock. Emily Jessop – the woman who’d been a maid at the Old Grange – she told me what happened. Your grandfather specialised in making your mother’s life a misery and he was particularly furious when she married your father. So furious that eventually he decided to do his best to wreck her life once and for all. And the hell of it is, he succeeded.’

  John had gone very still now, listening intently. When Delilah paused, wondering how to tell the next part, he said abruptly, ‘What did he do? I knew my father always hated him.’

  ‘I don’t think your father knew about this final act of wickedness,’ Delilah said quietly. ‘The old man told a lie that exploded your mother’s marriage and took away the only good things in her life – you and Nicky. He told her that she was the child of an affair between her mother and Nicky’s father.’

  The implication took only a moment to sink in and then John drew in a breath with a hiss of shock. ‘Fuck!’ he swore. ‘Fuck.’ He looked dazed under this new and terrible idea. ‘You mean . . .’

  ‘An incestuous marriage. Illegal. Invalid.’ Delilah said the words slowly and with emphasis. She felt that they carried with them all the force that had impelled Alexandra out of John’s life.

  ‘Oh God,’ John said. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he said in a low voice, ‘So that’s why she went.’

  Delilah nodded. ‘She wasn’t in her right mind, I think that must be true. The old priest who conducted Elaine’s funeral told me she seemed to be in hell. But it wasn’t just Elaine’s death, it was this ghastly knowledge. I think she did what she thought was the only sane thing – she released Nicky from his marriage to her. But she decided to leave you behind, to be his comfort and probably to protect you too. I don’t know for sure – when I saw your mother, she said nothing about all of this. I think she wanted to take this secret to her grave. I only know because of Emily Jessop.’

  John turned to her, his expression suddenly agonised, obviously deeply shaken. ‘But it was true?’ he whispered through dry lips. ‘Were my parents . . . related?’

  Delilah shook her head, her heart bleeding for him. ‘It wasn’t true. Emily will swear to it.’

  ‘Oh God,’ he said again, his voice shaking with emotion.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ She wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him to her. This time he crumpled into her arms and let her comfort him.

  Once John had absorbed what she’d told him and recovered from his initial shock, it was all they could talk about. They discussed it through the evening and into the night, barely sleeping before waking again to talk more. She could never have imagined that he would have so much to say on a subject that had once appeared to be absolutely closed. He seemed to feel dazed by the extent of the grief his grandfather’s wicked lie had caused. It had reverberated down over decades and, like a huge wave, had washed away lives with it.

  ‘You must see he can’t be allowed to get away with it,’ Delilah said to him as they lay in bed, side by side.

  ‘He was a vile old man,’ John said in a heartfelt tone.

  ‘Well, he must have been very miserable,’ Delilah said, trying to be noble.

  ‘Let’s hope so.’

  ‘But either way, you mustn’t let him win.’ She ran her hand over his arm, feeling his warm skin under her finger-tips.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If you go on hating your mother and not forgiving her, if you go on wishing she were dead – then he’s won.’ This had been the conclusion she had felt sure they must eventually reach but even so, she held her breath after she’d said it, half fearful of his reaction.

  ‘I know,’ he replied after a moment, his voice more normal than she’d heard it for a very long time. ‘I suppose I’m beginning to accept that. She had an awful time, I can see that. I’ve never really thought before about her pain. I can do that now.’

  ‘So . . . would you be prepared to see her again?’ She held her breath, her stomach fluttering with excitement.

  He turned to look at her. ‘Do you think she’d be prepared to see me?’

  ‘Oh.’ She thought for a moment, realising it would not be that straightforward. ‘Of course, she still believes that Nicky is her brother. That’s what she’s punishing herself for and why she doesn’t think she can see you or Nicky again.’

  ‘We’ll just have to convince her she’s wrong.’

  ‘How? Shall we wheel Miss Jessop all the way to Patmos?’ They both laughed at the ridiculous image. Then Delilah said softly, ‘Why don’t we go back and tell her ourselves?’

  He turned to her suddenly and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly to him, pressing his face against her cheek. She felt a tremendous lift of happiness, drinking in his nearness as a wash of relief flooded over her. He was back, she knew it for sure. It was going to be all right between them.

 
; He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, ‘Thank you. Thank you, Delilah.’

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  ‘Welcome back.’ The woman behind the desk of the Hotel Joannis did not try to hide her surprise. ‘I’m very pleased to see that you must have enjoyed your stay here to come back so soon.’ She smiled at Delilah and then looked across to John. ‘And you’ve brought your husband this time.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Delilah beamed at her.

  ‘I’m pleased we have some availability for you. The cancellation meant I could find you a double room.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘Please, follow me.’

  This room was a larger double and almost twice the price, but Delilah thought it was worth it. From the wide windows they had a view of the beautiful sea stretching away, and the hummocks of the island and a glimpse of the yachts moored at the edge of the bay. She went to the window and gazed out, breathing in the hot salty tang of the air, then turned to John. ‘Isn’t this wonderful?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. He had a slightly bewildered air about him as if he did not quite believe where he was. ‘It is, actually. It’s gorgeous. I can see why you fell in love with this place.’

  ‘Why your mother fell in love with it,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Hmm.’ He came over to her and wrapped his arms around her, tucking his chin in beside her neck. ‘I’m nervous about this.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ she said stoutly. ‘We’ve got our plan. I’ll see her first and explain and we’ll see how it goes from there. One step at a time.’

  John looked out again, shaking his head. ‘She’s here – on this island. I can’t believe it.’ Then he nuzzled into her neck and kissed the soft skin there. ‘But . . . I’d rather think about you right now. Do you know, you taste of honey?’

  Delilah sighed luxuriously. ‘I feel strange. Relaxed but keyed up. Excited and yet completely languorous.’

  ‘I know what you mean. I feel the same way.’ He pulled her around so that she was facing him, wisps of her hair being lifted by the light breeze coming in through the window. ‘Just in the right mood for . . .’