‘They’ll be back,’ Melissa prophesied. ‘The coaches won’t be though. The organizers called me to confirm that conditions are too bad – like I didn’t know that already! One of the buses skidded off the road last night and had to be rescued.’
‘Anyone hurt?’ Rav asked anxiously.
‘Apparently not. They were crawling along, fortunately. Blasted weather.’
‘That’s Britain for you,’ Rina said cheerfully. ‘Is Jay still here? He said he might leave today too.’
‘Gone off walking as soon as it was light. He seems to like this weather. I made sure his mobile had a strong signal before I let him out,’ she added, and Rina wondered if she’d locked the front door until Jay had demonstrated that fact. She glanced out of the window, gratified that although the snow had started to fall once more, it was only falling lightly. In her younger days she, too, would have been out in it first thing, stamping around in stout wellingtons and taking pleasure in being the first to mark the pristine surface.
Except, she thought, recalling last night and the footprints she had seen, she would not have been the first. She stared hard at the snow that lay thickly, obscuring the lawn and the gravel paths, drifting almost to window height, but could see nothing now. How deep was it? Nine inches, maybe more. Deep enough to be challenging, but not so deep she would not have enjoyed it.
When was the last time she had waded through deep snow? They rarely got a lot in Frantham; it was too close to the sea, and the hills rising behind usually took the brunt of it, leaving her hometown with just a light sprinkle, whichever direction the wind blew in from.
‘Morning, Rina.’ Tim and Joy arrived, Tim kissing her cheek and Joy giving her a hug.
‘Feeling better?’ Rina asked Joy.
Joy nodded. ‘Much. I slept like a baby,’ she said, wondering at that fact. ‘You?’
‘No, my mind was working overtime, I’m afraid.’ They served themselves breakfast and sat down together at the table. Rav, it seemed, had little appetite and was drinking coffee, nibbling toast. Viv and Robin, at the far end of the table, were chatting over plates piled high. They acknowledged Rina and the others, but did not break off from their conversation. Viv giggled at something Robin said, and Rina smiled fondly in their direction.
‘They’re a nice couple,’ Joy said sotto voce. ‘Viv is so mad at Toby. You should have heard them last night when they came up. I’d just dozed off. She was giving him hell over something.’
‘Oh?’ Rina, of course, was interested.
‘We couldn’t hear enough to make it out: it was all fierce whispers, you know, people trying not to be loud and not quite managing it. She told him she thought he was a disgrace and would be asking for a new supervisor when they got back, but that was all we could make sense of.’
‘Apart from the fact he sounded like he was threatening her. He said if she made trouble for him, she’d regret it.’ Joy shrugged. ‘Sorry, Tim, but I think he’s a creep.’
Tim nodded. ‘He wasn’t always like that,’ he said quietly.
Terry arrived, looking as though he’d had a full eight hours’ rest. He, too, was hungry. He plonked himself and his breakfast down next to Rav and beamed across at Rina. ‘How are we all? Bit thin on the ground this morning.’
‘You sound happy.’
‘Oh, I am. No reason, I just woke up feeling this way.’
‘Lucky you.’ Rav was sardonic.
‘So, what do we do with today? Croquet on the lawn? Big barbecue to use up Melissa’s food mountain?’ Terry asked.
‘I don’t think we could even find the lawn,’ Rina said.
‘Oh, if everyone gets a shovel, we can soon dig it out.’
Tim laughed. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’
‘Deadly. Every house party should have croquet in the afternoon and tea on the lawn. Really, though, are we going to try and get out of here before it gets worse?’
‘Gail and David have already left,’ Rav said. ‘Jay is thinking about it. He’s gone for a walk, of all things. I hope he comes back soon; he’s meant to be my lift out of here.’
‘Oh, you can always hitch a ride with me,’ Terry said.
‘We’ll be waiting for Mac to arrive, and then we’ll see,’ Rina said. ‘But yes, I think it’s likely we will go. I see no reason to stay now.’
‘Poor Melissa.’ Terry grinned. ‘The princess all alone in the deserted palace.’
Mac and Miriam finally arrived after breakfast was over, though Melissa insisted they sit down to an impromptu second. It had taken them almost three hours to drive five miles, and Mac was not keen to reprise the experience.
‘The local radio says the main roads should be cleared later today, but we’re nowhere near a main road here so it’s anyone’s guess. The landlord of the pub told us it’s not unusual for them to be cut off for several days when the snow comes in suddenly like this.’
‘Great.’ Tim grimaced. ‘So, Rina, what do you think? We hold on for a while?’
‘That would seem to be the sensible option,’ Rina agreed. Mac’s car was heavy and rugged and all-wheel drive; Tim’s car was anything but. If Mac had encountered such difficulties, well . . . ‘We see what the day brings,’ she said. ‘If we can make it out to the main road tomorrow, we should be in a better position for getting home. But, Mac, what about your hearing?’
Mac and Miriam exchanged a glance.
‘What?’ Rina said.
‘I’ve called ahead and told them where I am and what’s going on. Seems the weather in Pinsent isn’t much better so it will all have to be rescheduled, but I’m not sure I’m going to bother anyway.’
‘Mac?’
It was Miriam who answered. She looked so much better than when Rina had last seen her, when Miriam had been recovering from some terrible events. The bright blue eyes shone now, and she tossed back the long dark hair. ‘I’m moving into the boathouse,’ she said, referring to the little flat Rina had helped Mac to find in Frantham Old Town. ‘And I’ve been offered the chance to go and finish my Master’s in September.’
‘Well, that’s good,’ Rina approved. ‘It’s about time you moved in officially, you practically live there already. But what about work? Will the MA be full time?’
Miriam and Mac exchanged a glance. ‘We’ve been talking,’ Miriam said, ‘and we think we both need a change of direction.’ She looked down for a moment, as though embarrassed. ‘The fact is, Rina, I tried to go back into work and I just can’t. I’ve seen the doctor and he’s signed me off for another month, and if I’m not feeling better after that I’m going to put in my resignation.’
Rina nodded. ‘Miriam, dear, it’s bound to take time. You’ve had a dreadful experience.’
‘So I’m going to go back to what I wanted to do in the first place. My MA is in forensic anthropology, that’s where I wanted to be. Hopefully, I can pick up some consultancy work, maybe some teaching.’ She laughed. ‘OK, I’ll admit I’ve not thought it through, but . . . We’ve agreed. That’s the next step, and Mac—’
‘Has been offered a job,’ Mac said.
‘A job? You mean leave the force?’
‘Possibly, yes. Probably, even. Abe has offered me work, and I think I might accept.’
‘Right.’ Their friend Abe Jackson ran a security firm in Dorchester. Rina tipped her head to one side and looked at them both carefully. ‘Are you sure you’re not both rushing into things? Believe me, I can fully understand why, but—’
‘Probably,’ Mac agreed. ‘Rina, when I accepted the Frantham posting it was clear to everyone I was just being shunted out of the way – and actually I was quite happy to be shunted. I’d had six months on sick leave, and I was still a mess as you well know. But I’m better now. And everything has changed since then. Everything but the job. I’m thinking that now might be the time to change that too.’
Rina nodded. ‘Then I will say no more,’ she said.
Mac laughed. ‘That would be a first. No, Rina, we do hea
r you, but sometimes you’ve just got to take that leap.’ He fished under the table for his battered old briefcase, and Rina knew he was telling her very gently that he didn’t want to talk about their decisions any more. In an odd way she was heartened by that. It meant that these new thoughts were still too fragile to be exposed, too newly formed. Did she hope Mac would change his mind? Rina wasn’t sure; she found it hard to think of Mac being anything but a police inspector, but then she also found it hard to reconcile the fact that the close friendship they had formed had actually begun less than a year before.
‘What do you have there?’ she asked, taking his lead.
‘The information you wanted. This house, the other participants in this exercise of yours—’
‘Definitely not of mine. I’d have organized it much better than this.’
‘I’m sure you would. Right, we have a date with some snow.’
‘Snow?’
‘Melissa said she has wellingtons we can borrow, and Tim and Joy suggested a walk out to some wood or other,’ Miriam said.
‘You want to come?’ Mac asked Rina.
‘No, thank you, Mac. I’ll take these up to my room and have a read, maybe a nap too. I didn’t get much sleep last night and, well, old bones, you know?’
‘Old bones,’ Mac scoffed. ‘All right, we’ll catch up with you at lunch.’ He leaned across and kissed her cheek, and as Rina watched them leave the dining room a tear pricked the corner of her eye. Mac had never done that before, and it had been nice. Very nice.
FOURTEEN
Gail had said very little since they left Aikensthorpe. David Franklin drove, concentrating on trying to keep the car in a straight line or simply to keep it moving where the snow had drifted and now packed round the axles. Twice, he had handed over to Gail while he pushed the car out of the drift; more than twice she had suggested they go back.
‘You wanted to leave; we’re leaving.’
‘That’s right, blame me for this. Are you even sober enough to be driving?’
‘Should have thought of that before, shouldn’t you? Damn and blast it.’ They had wedged deep again; a snow drift blocking the gated road had grounded the car. He bashed the steering wheel in frustration. ‘Bloody hell!’
‘Fuck,’ Gail said. ‘You’re allowed at least one. I agree it’s an overused expletive, but I think you can have at least one.’
He glowered at her for a moment and then began to laugh uncontrollably. Gail, unable to resist, gave in and joined him. ‘Oh, God,’ she said. ‘What the hell are we doing here?’
‘Trying to leave,’ David suggested.
‘Yeah.’ She reached out and took his hand. ‘When are you going to tell her, David? I’m sick of all this pretence.’
‘Soon, I promise.’
She pulled her hand away. ‘That’s what you said a month ago and a month before that.’
‘She won’t agree to a divorce easily, I told you that. She’ll make me pay, big time. You’ve got to see that, Gail.’
‘I see it. I see that you’re more worried about your money and reputation than you are about me, about us.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t know why I ever thought any different.’
‘Gail—’
‘Please. Don’t bother. Get out and push, and I’ll steer.’
‘Gail—’
‘Don’t. Just don’t.’
They had to dig the car out this time. Two hours had passed since they left Aikensthorpe, but finally the main road was in sight. David turned the wheel and the car slid sideways out into the road. He swore. ‘Frozen,’ he said. ‘On top of the snow. Must be the run-off from somewhere.’
Gail clung on to the door handle, her face pale. The road curved steeply down the hill, turning out of sight beyond the hedge. It was still not properly light, and the car headlights picked up the dark edifice of hedge and steep bank, the solid white of road. The clock on the dashboard told her it was ten to eight. ‘We should have stayed,’ she whimpered.
‘Now you decide. I thought you couldn’t stand any more.’
‘I didn’t realize how bad it would be out here.’
Gail squealed in panic. All semblance of control had been abandoned now. David steered and then oversteered, sent the car into a skid and frantically wrenched the wheel trying to straighten up. Gail screamed this time.
‘You are not helping,’ David yelled at her. His knuckles white on the steering wheel, he gripped tighter, trying to ease the vehicle on to something approaching a straight line. The road swept down and to the right, and David gave up all pretence of knowing what to do. ‘Just hang on,’ he snapped. ‘Fuck!’
She was right, Gail thought abstractedly as she clung to door handle and the front of her seat and tried hard not to scream. Sometimes only that word would do. The last thing she was aware of, before the car lurched sideways and the headlight picked up the wall of mud and stones that blocked the road ahead, was that she felt that presence again.
‘Simeon?’ Gail said, and then the car smashed far too fast into the mudslide, tipped and rolled, and the world went black.
FIFTEEN
From an article in the Herald and Echo, January 5th 1872:
It is the sad duty of this writer to report the death of a pillar of our small community. Dr Thaddeus Pym, well known in the country for his acts of charity and his skill as a physician, suffered a fatal accident sometime yesterday night. It is understood that Dr Pym was riding home late from Aikensthorpe House, residence of Albert Southam, Esq. and Mrs Southam. It is understood that Dr Pym had been planning to remain at Aikensthorpe overnight, and therefore his absence was not noted until the following day. The body of Dr Pym, who had been thrown from his horse a scant mile from Aikensthorpe House, was found by a local farmer a little after seven . . .
No one had been concerned that Edwin had failed to appear at breakfast. He hadn’t been the only one; Toby had only come down for long enough to collect a tray and then remove himself back to his room.
For Edwin to also miss lunch, though, seemed strange, and Rav was dispatched to knock on his door and see if he was coming down.
‘I can fix him a tray if he’d rather not,’ Melissa said. ‘But the old boy has to eat.’
‘How was the walk?’ Rina asked.
‘Oh, wonderful.’ Miriam’s cheeks were reddened by the cold, but she looked so much more relaxed, Rina was satisfied to see.
‘The woods are beautiful,’ Joy said. ‘We counted all the different species in the hedgerow, and according to that the boundary must date back more than a thousand years. Tim found some ruins,’ she added.
‘Ruins?’
‘It looks like the remnants of an old folly,’ he said. ‘There’s a bit of an archway and some wall. It could be anything, but it’s just at the point where you get a fantastic view over the valley, so I wondered, you know, if it was a garden feature.’
Rina nodded, was about to tell Tim he was probably right, when Rav reappeared, his brown skin bloodlessly pale. He was obviously distressed.
‘It’s Edwin,’ he said. ‘He’s dead.’
‘Dead?’ Viv was horrified. ‘How?’
Rav shook his head. ‘I don’t know. His heart was bad, I know. Maybe the upset of last night, maybe . . .’
Miriam was on her feet. ‘Show me,’ she said gently.
‘You’re a doctor?’
‘Well, no, actually I’m a forensic scientist, but I’m used to dealing with the dead, so—’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Mac said.
‘Had I better call an ambulance?’ Melissa’s hand fluttered nervously. ‘This is horrible. Just horrible.’
‘Bit late for an ambulance if he’s dead.’ Toby was sardonic.
He looked hung-over, Rina thought. She followed Mac from the room, leaving Tim and Joy to sort out the various stages of upset in the dining room.
Edwin’s room was on the first floor and in the wing above the library.
‘In here.’ Rav held the door. He was calmer now, but hi
s lips were still slightly blue. Rina wondered if he, too, had heart problems. They stood beside the door while Miriam and Mac went to inspect the old man’s body. It was obvious from first glance that Edwin was indeed dead, and to Rina’s eye he had been dead for quite some time. The cheeks already looked hollow; the lids of Edwin’s eyes were slightly retracted. Rina found herself thinking of the old custom of putting pennies on the eyes to keep them closed.
‘Poor Edwin,’ she said softly. ‘You say he had heart problems?’
Rav nodded. ‘I know he’d had angina for years. I don’t know how bad it was, but—’ He broke off, watching intently as Miriam touched Edwin’s hand where it lay on the light blue quilt. He lay on his back, head propped awkwardly on too many pillows, one hand extended on the covers, the other tucked under the blankets.
Gently, Miriam checked for a pulse at wrist and throat that they all knew would not be there. Flexed the fingers, checking for the first signs of rigor. Opened the lids and looked into the dead man’s eyes. Then she turned his head and peered at his neck as though puzzled by something.
‘Miriam?’ Mac questioned.
‘Do you have your torch?’
Mac rummaged in his jacket pocket, produced a key ring that had a small flashlight attached.
‘There’s blood here on his neck. Not much, as though he scratched himself on something. Rav, do you know if Edwin took tablets to thin his blood?’
‘Warfarin? I believe so, yes. He used to complain it took an age to stop bleeding if he cut himself. Miriam, what’s wrong?’
She didn’t respond immediately; instead, she looked again into the old man’s eyes and then stepped back from the bed as though to take in the scene from a better perspective.
‘Blood on the neck,’ she said, ‘but only a trace on the pillow, and . . .’ Very gently, she lifted the edge of the pillow on which Edwin’s head rested. ‘Blood—’
Mac came round to her side of the bed.
‘—on the pillow underneath where his head is placed.’ She pointed. ‘I noticed that his head was at the wrong angle to be comfortable.’
The Dead of Winter Page 12