by Amy M. Reade
“That’s a load of rubbish!” he yelled, taking a step closer to me. “And of course I know it’s soundproofed. Mum likes to read in there. She needs total silence when she reads.”
“You need to drive me and Ellie back to Dumfries. I cannot stay here another minute.”
“I will do no such thing,” he said.
“Where have you been, anyway?” I asked him.
“Out looking for you!” he bellowed, his eyes bulging and the vein in his neck protruding.
“I was here all the time. All you needed to do was ask your mother or your sister. They knew very well where Ellie and I were. Check the chamber pot. I had to use it while I was stuck up there.”
He turned on his heel and ran out of the room. I could hear him charging up the stairs, then up the second flight. He came rushing back down just a few moments later, holding the chamber pot in his hands.
“See?” he demanded. “Clean! You lying bampot!”
I walked over to where he stood, looking into the chamber pot. He was right—it was spotless.
“Someone washed it out,” I told him.
He scoffed. “Sure, Greer. Your phantom strikes again. Now, I’ll only ask you one more time. Was it another man? Is that where you’ve been?”
“Neill, I insist that you take me back to my mother’s house.”
“You are not leaving,” Neill said. “You will stay here with my family until I am ready to return to Dumfries. And you are not leaving my sight.”
“Neill, why don’t you believe me?” I asked lowering my voice so his family couldn’t hear our conversation.
“Greer, I know you hate my family for reasons that no one else understands. They have always been perfectly pleasant to you.”
“Perfectly pleasant?!” I hissed, practically choking on the words. “They’ve been perfectly awful from the day I met them!”
“You are too sensitive, and you’re also wrong. Just this morning I heard my mother tell you that she didn’t want you to help in the kitchen. She was just thinking of you and Ellie. That was very thoughtful of her, and you repay her kindness by accusing her of imprisoning you!”
“Neill, she wasn’t being kind. She was being rude. She didn’t want me in the kitchen because she can’t stand the sight of me.”
He stared at me as if he were looking at a stranger. “You are denigrating my mother, and I will not listen to it. You owe her an apology.”
“You’re mad if you think I’m going to apologize to any of the nutters in your family.”
That’s when Neill reached out and slapped me across the face. I put my hand up to my stinging cheek and blinked. Ellie was still screaming, but her cries faded to silence as the blood rushed to my ears, and all I could register was my own anger and shock. It took me a moment to gather myself and reach down to pick up our daughter. I knew he wouldn’t dare hit her, so I didn’t worry for her safety. But I was furious.
It was then I knew, long before the gambling started, that my marriage to Neill was not going to last.
I grabbed my handbag so I wouldn’t be caught again without my phone and stalked upstairs to the second floor bedroom where we had stayed in the past. I put Ellie down on the floor and reached for my phone. I called my mother.
“Mum? Can you come get me and Ellie?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Just typical Gramercy stuff.” I was telling the truth, just not all of it. Neill’s assault had been anything but typical.
“Greer, you may want to reconsider and stay there. You married into that family and you’re stuck with them now. Why don’t you try to make the best of it?”
Even my mother wasn’t going to help.
I sighed. “Okay, Mum. I’ll try.” She would have driven up in an instant if she had known Neill had struck me, but I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want to worry her.
I hadn’t eaten all day and I was starving, but I refused to go looking for food in the kitchen. I dug around in my handbag and found a cereal bar and a small piece of chocolate. Though I still nursed Ellie, she was eating solid food and she was probably hungry, too. I tore off small pieces of the cereal bar and gave them to her. She reached for them with her chubby little hands and put them in her mouth. As she chewed, a smile began to spread across her face. It was the first smile I had seen on her in hours and suddenly I began to cry. I buried my face in my hands and cried for several long minutes until the tears dried up by themselves. Ellie seemed to sense my frustration and anxiety because she climbed into my lap and snuggled against my chest, not making a sound, sucking her thumb.
Scooping her up again, I returned to the sitting room downstairs and retrieved our overnight bag. I put her in pajamas, and she fell asleep while I was rocking her in the bedroom on the second floor. My argument with Neill played itself over and over in my head until I couldn’t bear to think about it any longer. When he eventually came upstairs to go to bed, I didn’t speak to him or even look at him. I sat in the rocking chair with my eyes closed, Ellie in my lap. I waited for him to come over to me, to whisper an apology, to say he realized how difficult it was for me to be in his parents’ house, but he did nothing. When his breathing became regular and shallow, I put Ellie in her bed and stole upstairs to the third floor bedroom where I had been imprisoned for so many hours earlier.
I don’t know what compelled me to go, but I had to see that painting again. The McTaggart.
I propped open the door with a chair, which I carried across the room so no one would hear it scraping the floor. I wasn’t taking any chances on being shut in that room again. I switched on a small lamp on the bedside table. As the dim light swallowed a bit of the darkness, it shone a small puddle of light toward the wall where the McTaggart painting hung, its wooden frame gathering dust and cobwebs. I stared at the painting for the next hour, trying to imprint on my brain every nuanced brushstroke, every hint of light and shadow. I had studied McTaggart for my Ph.D., and I remembered being thrilled when I learned Neill’s family owned an original. Surprisingly, having been locked in the room with the painting didn’t lessen the thrill. I still felt chills when I looked at the work.
Eventually I walked over to the painting to examine it more closely and to brush off the dust and cobwebs. That such a magnificent work of art should be hidden away like this, let alone covered in filth, was unthinkable.
I inhaled sharply when I heard a soft sound directly behind me. I wheeled around and stood face-to-face with Gerard, Neill’s older brother. I had only seen him a few times since marrying Neill, and he scared me a bit. Under bushy eyebrows knit together in a frown, his glittering eyes stared at me.
“Hello, Gerard. Nice to see you again.”
“Why are you in here?” he asked, obviously feeling no warmth toward me.
“I was just having a look at the McTaggart. I studied him when I was in school.”
He scowled. “It’s a wee bit suspicious that you’re in here by yourself late at night.”
“I couldn’t sleep and I thought it would relax me to look at the painting.”
“Are you done?” he asked, clipping his words.
I nodded. “I guess I am now,” I said.
“Good. Don’t be sneaking around the house at night anymore.”
I quickly ducked out of the room, feeling his eyes boring into my back as I hastened, shivering, down the hallway.
CHAPTER 11
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t dislodge the memories of that trip to Candlewick Lane. I fell asleep with ugly thoughts pricking the back of my mind. The events of the long day, coupled with the knowledge of what I would have to do in the morning, made me uncomfortable and restless, even as tired as I was. I tossed and turned during the night, wincing from the pain in my back every time I moved.
I was up long before the sun. The late fall days in Scotland were getting shorter and shorter; I had already noticed a difference in the daytime light just in the week or so I had
been in Edinburgh. I moved slowly to the kitchen to make tea and found Seamus making breakfast.
“How are you feeling this morning, Greer?” he asked as I limped over to the sink. “Och, lass, have a sit and I’ll bring you tea.”
I sat down gingerly and waited for my tea. “How are you feeling?” Seamus repeated.
“Pretty sore,” I replied. “I didn’t sleep very well.”
“I expect not. The pain must have kept you awake.”
“It did, plus I’m a bit nervous about today.”
He put the tea in front of me and handed me the sugar bowl and cream pitcher. “Why nervous?”
“I’ve decided to pay a visit to Neill’s family this morning. They’re farmers outside Edinburgh, and they don’t like me.”
“Where do they live?”
“Glensaig, in East Lothian.”
“Why don’t they like you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I sighed. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime, but I’m not ready yet.”
He seemed to understand. “And James is going with you?”
“I think so. I’ll tell him about the change in plans when he gets here.”
He stood up and stretched. “I’m in need of a shower. Can I get breakfast for you first? There’s broiled tomato, mushrooms, and beans.”
“Thanks, Seamus. You take your shower, and I’ll get the food myself. You’re too good to me.”
“I appreciate your letting me stay here with you and Sylvie, that’s for sure. And I love to cook, so I’m glad to do it for you lassies!”
When I talked to James mid-morning, he said he’d be happy to accompany me to Neill’s parents’ farm. He offered to drive, and I told him a bit about my former in-laws as we drove out of Edinburgh and into the surrounding countryside.
“They’re not very nice people,” I told him with a sigh. “They never did like me, and I suppose the feeling was mutual.”
“What don’t you like about them?” James asked.
I didn’t know how much to divulge. “They always hoped Neill would marry someone else.” I laughed wryly.
“And what didn’t they like about you, may I ask?” He hastened to add, “Not that there’s anything to dislike, mind you.” He grinned.
I smiled. “They thought Neill would be better off with someone who hadn’t, uh, hadn’t spent as much time in school as I had.”
“They thought he should marry someone who wasn’t as smart as he?”
“Exactly. They thought I was too big for my britches.”
“Huh?”
I laughed at his unfamiliarity with the American phrase. “They didn’t think I was a proper lady for Neill. They thought one professor in the family—Neill—was enough. Turns out they were right, but not for the reasons they thought.”
We drove in silence for a while. James had put the Gramercys’ address into his navigator, but I didn’t need the car to tell me how to get to their farm. I would never forget the way.
The road straightened out ahead of us as we descended a steep hill into a valley. Farmland stretched along both sides of the road. This was a quieter time of year for farmers in Scotland, as the harvest was over and new crops wouldn’t be planted until close to spring. Herds of woolly sheep munched grass just on the other side of the fences that kept them safe—sometimes—from motorists. Occasionally one would raise its head and, chewing contentedly, watch us drive past. James loved seeing them. “I don’t get into the country outside Edinburgh often, so this is a treat! I could watch the sheep grazing all day.”
I agreed with him. If I hadn’t been so nervous about visiting Janet and Alistair, I would have enjoyed the sheep much more.
James slowed as we entered the village of Glensaig. Though the navigator told James where to drive, I couldn’t help pointing him in the direction of the home, at the end of Candlewick Lane. There were only a few homes on the narrow road, and Janet and Alistair’s house stood isolated. A stone fence bordered the Gramercy property. It was a large farm, mostly lying fallow now, but in the spring and summer it would be covered with fields of barley and several types of vegetables. Part of the land was covered and produced strawberries, and there were a few dozen head of cattle and about twenty sheep making this place their home.
My eyes followed the fence to its end in front of the farmhouse. I was suddenly hesitant to see Janet and Alistair. James must have sensed my apprehension, because he put his hand on mine and said, “You don’t have to go in there, you know.”
I shook my head. “Yes, I do. They may have heard from Neill. Not that they’ll tell me, but maybe they can get him a message.”
“Do you think he’d get in touch with them?”
I shrugged. “They’re his family. I would contact my family if I were in trouble. Then again, I think Neill has shown us that he and I don’t think the same way.”
We had driven slowly up the rutted path to the circular drive in front of the house. It was an imposing structure, made of stone so dark brown it was almost black. It stood three stories tall, with only a few windows on each level. It had been built a very long time ago, when the government imposed taxes based on the number of windows in a home. Though some modern homeowners had renovated their old homes and added windows, Janet and Alistair had opted to keep the place dark. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the door handle.
“Want me to come with you?” James asked.
“I think you’d better stay in the car. I’ll let you know if I need you. The last thing they’ll want to see is that I’ve brought a stranger with me. They’re very suspicious people.”
He shook his head, and I gave him a quick smile. I walked slowly up the stone path to their front door, looking up at the forbidding façade of the house. A curtain in a downstairs window twitched, and I knew someone was aware of my presence.
I lifted the large iron knocker and released it, the metallic ring jarring my hand. I waited for a full minute before I heard the metal rod being slid out of place on the inside of the door. The door opened slowly, and I was staring into the dark hazel eyes I remembered so well. And the memories came rushing back.
CHAPTER 12
In the room I shared with Neill and Ellie, they were still sleeping soundly when I returned from my encounter with Gerard. I thought briefly about trying to find the car keys and steal away with Ellie back to Dumfries, but searching for the keys would wake Neill instantly. I couldn’t bear the thought of crawling into the bed where he slept, snoring lightly, without a care in the world, so I sat in the rocking chair, eventually dozing with my chin resting on my chest. When Ellie began to stir sometime before dawn, I lifted my head to gaze at her, the pain in my neck excruciating. Neill still slept, so I picked her up and took her downstairs to the sitting room, where we played until everyone else began to move around. As hungry as I was, I hesitated to go into the kitchen. When I heard someone come downstairs and go in there, I was suddenly nervous.
It was the knowledge that I needed to eat in order to nurse Ellie that eventually forced us to go into the kitchen for breakfast and tea. Janet was in there, putting on the teakettle. She turned to me with a frown. “Are you going to disappear again today?”
“Janet, why do you and Beatrice insist on pretending you had nothing to do with locking me in the third-floor bedroom yesterday? You and I both know what really happened, even though you’ve somehow convinced Neill that I went out somewhere.”
She gave me a sly grin. “The bond between a mother and her son is unbreakable. Ask him if you disagree. Ask Gerard.”
A chill snaked up my back. Is Janet trying to prove Neill loves her more than me? Is that what this has been about?
My eyes narrowed as I stared at her. “Janet, I would never try to take Neill from you. Is that what you’re concerned about? That I would try to take your place?”
She didn’t answer. She turned around and busied herself at the sink. “Janet?” I said.
The woman was mad. Love like that was suffocating, unhealthy. I backed away from her, wondering briefly when I might be able to eat again. Ellie was whimpering, burying her face in my shoulder. I took her to the sitting room and cooed to her while we waited for Janet to go back upstairs. Unbelievably, I was going to have to sneak around behind Janet’s back to get a meal in this house. As soon as I heard Janet’s tread on the back stairs, I hurried into the kitchen with Ellie and poured myself a cup of tea. I took a few pieces of fruit, several biscuits, and some bannock, wrapped them in a plastic bag I found, and took Ellie back upstairs. I left her in the crib while I changed my clothes in the bathroom, which was next to our bedroom. I didn’t want to leave her alone, but I didn’t want to be changing when Neill awoke. If he never saw me undressed again, that was fine with me.
After Ellie and I were both dressed and I shared some of the fruit with her, I put her in the stroller and we headed outside. The heavy front door protested when I pushed it open, the noise echoing through the house. Listened for a moment; there was no sound from upstairs. It was ridiculous that I had to be so furtive in my in-law’s house. I pushed Ellie outside. We walked down Candlewick Lane and toward the village.
We had gone quite a distance when we got to the village proper. I wheeled her into the first little restaurant we came to and ordered strong tea, a traditional Scottish breakfast, and extra milk for Ellie. The traditional Scottish breakfast in a restaurant is a bit different from the traditional Scottish breakfast in a home, but I was famished and ate almost everything on the plate, including the tattie scone, the mushrooms, the tomato, the beans, the bangers, and even the blood pudding. I gave Ellie tiny bites of everything except the blood pudding, and she chattered away happily as we sat in the warm café, enjoying our time away from the Gramercy house.