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A Good Heart is Hard to Find

Page 16

by Trisha Ashley


  ‘True,’ she conceded. ‘And once I knew they were living in Swindon I realized that God had punished them as much as they deserved.’

  ‘Yes, so that only makes two dead wives …’ I ticked them off on my fingers. ‘One disappeared wife, and one divorced husband. Shall I now officially dump my lover of over twenty years standing (though very little of it was standing, as I recall), and join the Suddenly Single club?’

  ‘You’ve been single as near as damn it for years anyway, Cass, and at least now there’s the possibility of getting something going with Dante.’

  ‘There is no possibility of getting anything going with Dante: too young, too big, too dark, too intense, too haunted, too traumatized and too scary!’

  ‘That’s at least five things you’ve got in common to start with,’ she suggested helpfully. ‘You are carrying a load of guilt, rejection and childhood trauma. And what do you mean, he’s too scary? This from you!’

  ‘He’s different scary to my usual scary,’ I tried to explain. ‘Maybe you’re right about us having things in common, but that’s surely all the more reason not to go near each other? I may have piqued him a bit, as you say, but really he’s only interested in getting me to flit about the grounds of the Hall at night doing ghost impersonations for the edification of his visitors.’

  ‘His sister’s visitors,’ Orla corrected. ‘I wonder what she’s like? Clara’s met her in the shop, and she says she looks a bit like Dante, and is very nice. She told her she’d already advertised the first ghost party weekend, and she’s taken on two cleaners to get the place straight, and hired a garden clearing service to come and sort out the grounds.’

  ‘That’s quick work! And there isn’t going to be much profit after paying for all that,’ I pointed out. ‘And if Dante’s so well off, which he must be, I don’t see why he should be letting his sister do this at all.’

  Orla looked surprised: ‘Oh, haven’t I brought you up to date on all the nice long chats I’ve been having with Dante? I only wish he looked at me the way he looks at you, so brooding and sombre and—’

  ‘Like he wants to murder me?’

  ‘Actually I was going to say, like he wants to eat you.’

  I had a sudden vision of Vlad, in immaculate dinner jacket, approaching Keturah with his knife and fork held threateningly before him and a hungry look in his eyes, but instantly discarded it because of its risibility potential.

  ‘Are you listening?’ demanded Orla. ‘I was saying that Dante explained – or rather, I winkled out of him—’

  ‘You’re good at winkling,’ I conceded.

  ‘Thank you. I winkled out of him that he’d been brought to the Hall once when he was a little boy, and never forgotten it, so when he inherited he wanted to live here. He’s been commissioned to write a book about his experiences as a hostage, which he thinks will be good for him, but he took almost a year out to tour the USA, finishing up in Alaska where the widow of that other hostage who was killed lives.’

  ‘How did you get all that out of him?’ I demanded, astonished. ‘With an oyster knife?’

  ‘No, but it was slow work. And apparently his sister has just come out of a long, violent relationship – with a chef! Now that’s scary, all those big choppers. She was in the hotel management business. She refuses to live off him, or accept an allowance, so when she suggested the ghostly weekends he didn’t like to refuse. She’s called Rosetta, isn’t that pretty?’

  ‘What happened to Gabriel? Or Gabrielle?’ I interrupted.

  ‘Don’t be sarky. Dante says she’s got the weekend worked out already, pretty well. She’s only offering B&B, but her visitors can come here and eat in the restaurant like mine do. Dante’s writing a ghost guide to the Hall to give to them. He’s very thorough for a sceptic.’

  ‘And you’re very sanguine about this rival guesthouse.’

  ‘I don’t think it will really make any difference to me after all, since theirs isn’t a regular thing. My guests are usually on their way somewhere else, not ghost-hunting, though they do love the Haunted Well. The compulsion people feel to throw money into water must hark back to some ancient god-propitiating rite, inbred in some of us, mustn’t it? Me, I’m more concerned with taking the money out again. It’s a nice little earner.’

  … the coin bounced, and the depths of the pond shifted and gleamed like the golden scales of a great, stirring monster …

  ‘Speaking of great, stirring monsters, when’s Kedge Hall going to open for business?’

  She looked puzzled: ‘Were we speaking of great, stirring monsters?’

  ‘I was … maybe. In my head: sorry.’

  ‘Right. They’re opening at Easter, would you believe it? They’ve ordered a whole heap of Haunted Walks Through Westery, too, so their guests can take themselves off in search of extra ghosts.’

  ‘It still seems strange behaviour for a man who seems to have an absolute antipathy for the supernatural.’

  ‘Oh, he thinks it’s a load of nonsense, but he’s prepared to go along with it if it helps his sister.’

  ‘Did he say so?’

  ‘Yes, and also that he didn’t mind ghost-hunters, but he wouldn’t permit seances, planchettes or any other dangerous nonsense in his house.’

  ‘That’s because his mother-in-law’s some kind of medium, and when his wife died she made him try and contact her from beyond the grave, though it didn’t work. But why has he banned them if he doesn’t believe in them?’

  ‘He thinks they’re harmful to weak-minded people.’

  ‘Of whom he isn’t one?’

  ‘Apparently not.’

  She looked down at her neglected copy of Private Eye, and read out an advert: ‘“Strictly for fun: guy seeks doll, North West/Wales/would travel.” What do you think?’

  ‘Oh come on, Orla! He’s looking for a cross between Miss Whiplash and Barbie.’ I reconsidered. ‘On second thoughts, maybe you’re just what he’s looking for.’

  ‘No, honestly, Cass: tell me if you think he sounds interesting.’

  ‘He sounds like one of those red-faced sex-maniac types with long-suffering wives: is that interesting?’

  ‘Well, I like the sound of everything except the red face.’

  ‘I think it’s probably nature’s way of announcing their proclivities, like baboons’ bums.’

  ‘You have such a romantic way of putting things.’

  ‘If you’re looking for romance, I doubt if you will find it through that sort of advert anyway.’

  ‘And if you’re looking for romance, why won’t you go and haunt Kedge Hall? I can’t see why not – I bet he would pay double the Crypt-ogram fee, and it would be quite easy, wouldn’t it? And who knows where it might lead?’

  ‘I’m not looking for romance, and, anyway, I don’t want to spend any time near Dante Chase.’

  ‘You don’t trust him?’

  ‘No, I’m not sure I trust me, especially if my hormones kick in again. And despite that book you gave me putting me off pregnancy a bit, at least part of me still wants to try for a baby. I might be tempted to ply him with brandy and jump on him again.’

  ‘What about Jason?’

  ‘Usual objections.’

  ‘Mmm. Remember the night Tanya vanished, when he came to the pub alone after they’d argued, although he wouldn’t tell us what about?’

  ‘Probably Jack Craig, since they’d had a fairly blatant “me Mellors, you Lady Chatterley” thing going on for ages.’

  ‘Very likely. But do you also remember that Mike was away that night?’

  I looked at her. ‘Yes: you said Jason walked you home and stayed for a cup of coffee, and when he got back home Tanya’d gone.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said pensively. ‘But actually he stayed for something a bit hotter than coffee!’

  ‘I knew there was something! Who’s the dark horse now?’ I exclaimed.

  ‘I couldn’t really say anything: Jason felt guilty when he went home next morning early and Tanya�
�d gone, and he felt guilty about Mike, too, because they were friends, and I felt guilty – so, you see?’

  ‘You’ve both been pretending it never happened ever since? You’re a fine one to talk about me!’

  ‘Yes, but actually I still fancy Jason, only I was just a lapse on his part due to the temper he was in and he regrets it, so I know we will only ever be friends now. And he’s got the hots for you these days anyway.’

  I stared at her. ‘And you keep trying to push him off on to me?’

  ‘Only as a potential baby generator. I know you don’t really fancy him otherwise, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘Probably not!’

  ‘And I wouldn’t mind even if Jason and I were together. But we’re not, and never likely to be.’

  I really couldn’t see why not, if he could be cured of his crush on me, because it was always Orla he used to flirt with. Another thought struck me: ‘Orla, if Tanya’s car was still there when Jason walked you home, and he stayed with you, doesn’t that mean he couldn’t have done anything to her?’

  ‘Not entirely, because he left while it was still dark. But he did tell the police where he’d been when he reported her missing, so they must have been satisfied, especially after that sighting of her car. When Jason saw she’d gone he went up to Kedge Hall to see if she was there, but there was no sign of her, so he assumed she’d gone right away.’

  ‘That’s what he says anyway, Orla, though it does look even more likely now that she just left on her own, doesn’t it? If they’d had another row when he got back from your house and he’d done something regrettable in a rage, I don’t think he’d have had time to dispose of her and her car and get back before it was light enough for people to see him, do you?’

  ‘No, you’re right! So apart from Tom being so awful, there’s really no reason why you shouldn’t try for a baby with him!’

  ‘Yes, but Tom is awful, so I couldn’t possibly. And that book said all the risks seem to rise horrifically at my age, even if you achieve pregnancy – which I’m not likely to do without a lover, am I? Or even possibly with a lover.’

  ‘But Max actually offered?’

  ‘He just wanted to get his leg over,’ I said crudely. ‘I’m not going to get pregnant that easily at my age, am I? And promising to discuss it when he finally gets back from America – that’s months away. No, he doesn’t want a baby and he doesn’t want to marry me when he thinks he can have his cake and eat it as it is.’

  ‘Well, if you’re determined on trying, there are private AI clinics?’

  I shuddered. ‘No, I couldn’t! Too clinical, and anyway I want to choose the father of my child. If I really did decide to give it a go. I think the temptation factor is weakening.’

  ‘AI by a friend?’

  ‘Back to Jason again, and the usual objections apply.’

  ‘You don’t really fancy him, and there’s Tom, right.’

  ‘Right. Besides, he’d want more than to donate his sperm, wouldn’t he? I don’t think I want a long-term relationship with anyone any more. I’ve done all that. If I have a baby, it will be just for me.’

  ‘Well, Jason is a very good father, even though Tom’s so awful.’

  ‘Max insinuated that it was because Tom had the drop on him over his mother’s disappearance.’

  ‘Did he? Astute of him, when it took us ages to think that one up! But I’m sure Jason hasn’t done anything, and Tanya went away of her own accord.’

  ‘Yes, and even if he had he wouldn’t have meant to do it, so he’s perfectly harmless,’ I agreed.

  ‘But to get back to the point, Cass, the only other way is to go for the Lonely Hearts columns – don’t tell them where you live or your real name, and dump them when they’ve served their purpose.’

  ‘Oh no, thanks. I mean, apart from the Yuk factor, how would I know if they had any revolting STDs? Or even an IQ?’

  ‘You’re so fastidious … but you have a point,’ she admitted. ‘So what about Dante?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so – he’d have felt so guilty afterwards that I’m sure he’d have had to tell me if he’d put me at risk,’ I said hopefully.

  ‘You’re probably right, and you could seduce him again, I bet. The way he stares at you …’

  ‘Glares. I think it’s his natural expression.’

  ‘You’re a fine one to talk! You both look and sound like a tragedy queen – Lady Macbeth to the life – but it seems to work on the men OK.’

  ‘Dante’s too young, and I don’t really think he’s interested in me like that despite the other night. In fact, he seems to disapprove of me, my works and everything I do. And I don’t know how to go about seducing anyone anyway. I’m out of the habit of going out with other men … I mean, I always meant to be faithful to Max, but he lied to me all the way along the line.’

  ‘That was always perfectly obvious, but it was pointless saying anything when you were so under his thumb.’

  I shuddered. ‘I nearly was again – there’s something almost hypnotic about Max when he really starts to work on me. You know, if it hadn’t been for that stupid beard I might just have weakened!’

  ‘No, I think you’re beyond that, and that beard is pretty stupid. Besides, maybe you didn’t notice, but when Dante was standing next to Max, the contrast really struck you, because he is so big, and dark and virile, and Max looked thin, and dry and older and well-preserved, I suppose, and sophisticated.’

  ‘I did notice,’ I admitted. ‘But I’m no spring chicken either! If I felt shy with Max after only a few months apart, think what I’d be like trying to get off with a total stranger! And how could I bare this forty-four-year-old body to a new lover?’

  ‘What about the other night? And you have a wonderful figure!’

  ‘The other night I was drunk and – well, let’s not go into that. And we both have wonderful figures, as in big busty ones, but it’s not fashionable to be shaped like a woman, is it? Only anorexic boyish types need apply.’

  ‘I think you’d better abandon any hopes of pregnancy by anything other than divine intervention then, since clearly you’ll never come near enough to another man again to make it happen. How about a nice dog?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You absolutely drooled over the Saluki hounds when we were watching Crufts on my TV. Why don’t you have one of those instead?’

  ‘It’s hardly the same thing, Orla!’

  ‘Much less trouble, though! It’s not life-threatening, figure-threatening, wallet-threatening, doesn’t involve having random sex with strangers or turning friends into lovers …’

  Maybe she had something. But the urge to procreate was a powerful one, and it wasn’t prepared to lie down and die quite yet.

  ‘How’s your other offspring, your latest book, coming along?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, the characters are all off doing their own thing, now I’ve made Keturah’s dead lover come back as something not quite human. And then there’s this ancient family vampire that lives in the local hall that she finds quite attractive.’

  ‘You’re not going to do anything particularly revolting to him at the end, are you?’ she asked suspiciously. ‘I always get to kind of identify with someone half bad and half good in your novels, and then you do something awful to them!’

  ‘Of course I am! Don’t I always? But it won’t be me but my heroine Keturah. She might eat him during the sex act, like a spider, since she is half-vampire, half—’

  ‘Oh God!’ exclaimed Orla. ‘Ugh! Don’t tell me any more. How can you sleep at night?’

  ‘I don’t, I’m too busy writing.’ I sighed. ‘After this, I think I’ll write a literary novel under an assumed name, and call it Dante’s Compendium or Dante’s Goldfish or something.’

  ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’ she said suspiciously.

  I woke Charles yet again with my phone calls. I really must learn to check the time before I call people.

  He never seems to mind, but he
is not a young man and needs his beauty sleep. Another thing to feel guilty about.

  I brought him up to date on Rosemary’s letter, and how I’d made her suffer all these years, and how guilty I felt, and about Max now seeming a worthless thing to have swapped for my self-respect.

  ‘And, Charles, I had an absolutely horrible thought: did I choose Max simply because he was older and very charismatic, like Pa? (Only sane.) Or like Pa was, before he took to drink.’

  ‘You were simply desperate for love, Cass my dear: leave the psychoanalysis to specialists. As to the rest: yes, it is a heavy weight to bear on your conscience, but if you are truly sorry, God will forgive you.’

  ‘Actually, I feel more worried about me ever forgiving me at the moment. And it was a bit shattering to discover that the minute the path is apparently clear for Max and I to be together, Rosemary is always going to be blocking the way.’

  ‘Does Max accept that the affair is finished?’

  ‘I’m not sure that I quite accept it yet, Charles: I mean, I didn’t know how I would feel about him until I saw him again, and then we just argued, and then he tried to be nice and get round me, and then he went huffy again and left … so it all seems a bit like it’s inconclusively petered out rather than ended.’

  ‘So you haven’t actually told him?’

  ‘I think he got the idea, but no, I haven’t actually come right out with it in so many words. I might have, except he was so much more like the old Max I loved towards the end of the visit – apart from the vile beard.’

  ‘The beard?’

  ‘Surely you noticed, at the pub on Friday? It was disgusting – sort of shaved at the sides. There’s no telling what might have happened if he hadn’t turned up with facial hair, but I’m glad now that he did, because it made me take a good hard objective look at him and decide to end it all. I must. I must finish it.’

  ‘You will feel much better when you do, Cass: but in your own time. God has infinite patience, and infinite love.’

  ‘It’s just as well, Charles,’ I said, before replacing the receiver.

  14

  Mad Max

  … and we knew Dante was no good.

 

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