‘And I want you to make me happy too,’ she said. ‘I want us to be together.’
He nodded and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. ‘You’re so warm,’ he told her in a whisper she felt dance over her skin. She was so lost in the moment that she didn’t question that he was trying to change the subject or avoid it altogether. Instead, she let herself be kissed and, when his phone beeped a moment later and he told her he had to get back home, she let him go without another word.
Celeste spent a good ten minutes pacing in the study before she rang Julian.
‘Where are we with the auction?’ she asked without preamble.
‘Hello, Celeste! Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine,’ she said, ‘but I need to know what’s happening with the rest of the paintings.’
‘Well, the catalogues are back from the printers now and are going to be posted out today, and I have to say that the paintings look great. The images are fantastic – they really do the paintings justice. I’ll pop one round to you when I’m up this weekend, okay?’
‘So the auction’s in a fortnight?’ Celeste asked.
‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘Will you be coming to London for it?’
Celeste twisted a lock of her dark hair. ‘I’m not sure yet,’ she said.
‘I know you don’t like London,’ he said, ‘but it can be fun. I could take you out to dinner afterwards to celebrate.’
‘If we sell the paintings,’ she said pragmatically.
‘The paintings will sell,’ Julian said. ‘You don’t need to worry on that score.’
But as Celeste hung up, she couldn’t help admitting to being worried – not just about the paintings, but about everything else too.
It was the middle of the night when Celeste woke up. She wasn’t sure what had disturbed her this time but it was happening a lot lately and she’d learned to just give in to it.
She switched on her bedside lamp, stirring Frinton at the end of the bed. Looking across the room, she caught sight of her old copy of Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle and gave a wry laugh. Cassandra Mortmain was one of her favourite heroines and had certainly known that living in an ancient building in the middle of Suffolk was far from romantic. When she’d first read the book, she’d felt an immediate connection with the resilient heroine, although she had frowned on her ability to fall in love so quickly and had shuddered at the thought of swimming in a moat. She and her sisters had never done anything quite so foolhardy.
‘Only you have, haven’t you?’ she said to Frinton. One of his ears pricked up at the sound of her voice, but he gave a sigh and went back to sleep.
She got out of bed, stuffing her feet into her slippers and grabbing a cotton jumper. She didn’t feel like reading tonight, no matter how comforting it might be to swap her own worries for those of Cassandra Mortmain. Instead, she headed downstairs, accompanied by Frinton, who thought that exchanging sleep for the possibility of a treat was a fair deal.
Leaving the sanctuary of her bedroom, she ventured down the corridor that linked all the bedrooms. A small lamp was always left on to light the dark passageway in case of night-time wanderings, but the wooden panelling meant that it was still spookily dark.
They were just passing Penelope’s room when Celeste noticed that the door had been left ajar. Being a terrier, Frinton noticed it too.
‘No!’ Celeste cried as the little dog charged into the darkness. She groaned. She hadn’t ventured into the room since the night she’d found Evie in there, and she certainly didn’t fancy going in there again. ‘Frinton!’ she called softly. ‘Come out of there.’ But the little dog didn’t respond, just as she knew he wouldn’t. Shaking her head and silently cursing the day that the soft bundle of naughtiness had entered her life, she turned the main light on and walked into the room. Frinton was by the bed, eating what looked very much like a Jammie Dodger that he’d probably brought upstairs himself at some point.
Swallowing hard, she took a moment to look around the room. The mahogany king-size sleigh bed was still made up with its pink and white toile de jouy bedding, and there on the bedside table was the large silver-framed photograph she’d spotted when she’d been in the room with Evie. The photograph of Penelope. The room was filled with photographs of her, and her beautiful face stared out from each one of the frames now. Celeste felt tears brimming in her eyes.
Nobody would ever understand that such a beautiful woman could be so cruel, but those large brown eyes and the sensual lips hid so much meanness, and the looks she’d been capable of giving and the things that she’d been able to say still made Celeste shake with fear today and chased her from the room now.
‘Frinton!’ she called, her voice icy. ‘Come on.’ The little dog looked up from the carpet, licked up the remaining crumbs of the Jammie Dodger and followed her out of the room, knowing it was better not to push his luck when his mistress called his name like that.
Going downstairs, she heard the voices as soon as she entered the corridor to the kitchen.
‘What are you both doing up?’ she asked as she walked into the kitchen and saw Gertie and Evie there.
‘Same as you, I imagine – couldn’t sleep,’ Evie said from the bench that ran the length of the old table. Gertie was stirring something lemony in a huge silver pan. ‘She’s making a cake and I get to lick all spoons and bowls, don’t I? So don’t even think of intercepting me because I was here first.’
Celeste took a seat opposite Evie.
‘You look dreadful, Celly,’ Gertie said as she turned around from the Aga.
‘Thanks a lot!’ Celeste said. ‘It’s the middle of the night. I don’t suppose I’m meant to look like a supermodel.’
Gertie shook her head. ‘It’s more than that. Is something wrong?’
She sighed. ‘Did you take a look at the north wing today?’
‘I’m trying to avoid going in there,’ Gertie said. ‘Why? Is it bad?’
‘You could say that.’
‘But we knew that, right?’ Gertie said, as she tipped the gloopy cake mixture from the pan into a loaf tin. ‘We’ve known for years that it was pretty bad in there.’
‘I know, but seeing it all so raw and exposed gave me a bit of a shock and I’m really worried what else is going to be unearthed around the house – and if we’ve got the budget for it.’
‘We’ll just have to do what we can,’ Gertie said. ‘Nobody expects you to do everything at once. You just have to tackle one bit of it at a time.’
Celeste rested her head in her hands and closed her eyes, listening to the movements of Gertie as she clattered cooking equipment around.
‘Where’ve you put the missing painting, Celly?’ Evie asked after a moment.
Celeste opened her eyes again and looked at her sister across the table. ‘It’s in the study for the time being.’
‘You’re not going to sell it, are you?’ Evie’s eyes were narrowed and accusatory.
‘I’m not sure what to do,’ Celeste said. ‘I don’t think we should do anything with it until things have quietened down.’
‘What things? Dad or Simone haven’t called, have they?’
‘No,’ Celeste said.
‘Well, then. I think we should hang it up in the living room. Put it in that gap left by the Fantin-Latour. I hate that gap. It makes me feel all empty inside.’
Celeste knew exactly what Evie meant. Every time she walked into the room, the gap on the wall seemed to be staring her down and she wondered if she’d made the right decision in letting the painting go.
But you didn’t let it go, a little voice inside her said. You’re going to make nearly half a million pounds for it.
‘Maybe we should hang it there,’ she said at last.
‘It’ll look good,’ Evie said. ‘We should celebrate it being home.’
Celeste watched Evie as her fa
ce slowly sank into something that looked like melancholy, her beautiful eyes cast downwards.
‘Evie?’ Celeste began, remembering their aborted conversation in the hallway and that she hadn’t had a chance to talk to her sister since. ‘Are you okay?’
Evie sighed but didn’t look up. ‘Why does everybody keep asking me that?’
‘Maybe because we know that something’s wrong,’ Celeste said.
‘And how would you know that?’ she said defiantly.
Celeste raised her hands in the air. ‘Because of comments said in exactly that tone of voice,’ she said.
Evie groaned.
‘And groaning,’ Celeste added, ‘and moping around the house looking pale.’
‘I’m not pale and I haven’t been moping anywhere.’
‘And talking in secret to Esther,’ Celeste said.
‘Ah!’ Evie said. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere. You think there’s something wrong with me because I’ve been having a perfectly normal conversation with Esther rather than talking to you. Is that it?’
‘No, that’s not it at all.’
‘No? Because you seem to still be upset about that,’ Evie said pointedly.
‘I’m not upset. I just want to help.’
‘There’s nothing to help with,’ Evie insisted.
‘Then what were you talking to Esther about?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It matters to me,’ Celeste said. ‘I’m your big sister.’
‘Exactly,’ Evie said.
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means that you’re my sister. You’re not my mother.’
‘I’m not trying to be your mother,’ Celeste said. ‘Is that why you turned to Esther? As a substitute mother?’
Evie’s eyes widened and suddenly seemed full of fear. ‘What a thing to say!’
‘Is it true?’
‘I don’t need to substitute mother. I’m twenty-one!’ Evie said. ‘Anyway, nobody could replace Mum.’
‘Okay, okay!’ Celeste said. ‘I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.’
‘Why? You’ve never been interested before.’
‘Evie!’ Gertie said, turning around from the kitchen sink.
‘What?’ Evie snapped. ‘You’ve said the same thing, too.’
Celeste’s mouth dropped open. ‘What have you said about me?’
‘Nothing,’ Gertie said. ‘I’ve said nothing.’
‘Really?’ Celeste said, not sounding convinced. ‘It doesn’t sound like nothing. What have you two been talking about?’
‘Just drop it, Celly,’ Evie said. ‘Just run back to your study.’
The kitchen filled with a terrible silence.
‘Is that it, then?’ Celeste asked after a moment. ‘You think I lock myself away in there for fun? You think I shut you two out, don’t you?’
‘Well, don’t you?’ Evie said.
‘If I do, I don’t mean to,’ Celeste said in a very little voice. ‘But it was you two who asked me to come back – begged me to come back.’
‘We wanted our sister back,’ Evie said.
‘And I am back, but you saw the state of the study. What am I supposed to do?’
‘Talk to us?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to do now!’ Celeste said hopelessly.
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’
‘Get what? Tell me what it is I’m not getting because I really want to know.’
‘You can’t just come marching back here after three years and expect us to open up to you all of a sudden. Relationships don’t work like that, Celeste!’ Evie said. ‘You managed to escape – you weren’t around for the end and you’ve no idea what that was like. You were off with your fancy man in your new home, weren’t you?’
‘You think my marriage was an easy option?’ Celeste said breathlessly. ‘Well, it wasn’t. It was the biggest mistake of my life and I did it just to get away from here. I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. I was desperate and I knew I couldn’t go on living here.’
‘We know that,’ Gertie said, trying to calm things down between Celeste and Evie. ‘We’re not blaming you for leaving.’
‘Aren’t you?’ Evie said. ‘Don’t speak for me because I blame Celeste.’
Celeste shook her head. ‘Don’t say that, Evie. You don’t blame me – not really.’
‘Why do you say that? Why are you two always putting thoughts into my head and words into my mouth? You don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling.’ Evie’s face had gone from being as white as a Boule de Neige rose to as red as a Munstead Wood in a matter of seconds.
‘I’m just trying to work out what’s going on here,’ Celeste said. ‘With both of you. Neither of you talks to me about the things that really matter. I know something’s been bothering you, Evie, but you just won’t give me a chance, and Gertie’s been hiding something too.’
‘What do you mean?’ Gertie said.
‘You’ve been doing a lot of this midnight baking and you only ever do that when you’re upset about something. I wish you’d tell me what it is.’
Gertie went very tight-lipped and refused to maintain eye contact with her sister.
‘I know I don’t spend enough time with you guys,’ Celeste said, ‘and it really hurts me that I’ve hurt you, but please talk to me about it. I really need you two.’
‘No, you don’t,’ Evie said. ‘You’ve never needed anyone. You just lock yourself away from everyone, don’t you? You’re so cold, Celeste. I’ve never known anyone as cold as you.’
‘Stop it, Evie!’ Gertie shouted. ‘You always go too far.’
It was then that Esther walked in. ‘What do you think you’re doing shouting in the middle of the night?’
‘Keep out of this, Esther,’ Celeste said.
‘Don’t you dare talk to her like that,’ Evie said.
‘This has nothing to do with her, Evie,’ Celeste said, a warning tone in her voice. ‘This is between you and me.’
‘You think that’s for you to decide, do you?’ Evie retorted. ‘Well, I’m fed up with you thinking you can tell me what to do all the time. You can’t do that to me anymore.’
Esther listened to the words flying between the two of them and then raised one of her small, bony hands. ‘Girls!’ she said. Her calm voice seemed to do the trick because they stopped fighting for a moment and turned to look at her. ‘Now,’ she said at last, ‘I’m not sure what’s caused this little scene tonight but I think I have an idea of what might be behind it.’
‘Well, I’m glad somebody does,’ Celeste said sarcastically.
Esther glared at Celeste and then turned her attention to Evie once again. ‘I think you should tell them, Evie,’ she said, ‘don’t you?’
27.
Tell us what?’ Celeste said. ‘If there’s anything to tell, then I think you should get it over and done with now.’
‘Yes, what’s going on?’ Gertie said. She had joined them at the table and watched as Esther took a seat next to Evie and the two of them looked at each other for a long, silent moment.
‘Go on, my girl,’ Esther said, gently patting Evie’s hand.
Celeste looked from Esther’s face to Evie’s and couldn’t help envying them their obvious closeness. When had all this happened, she wondered? And how could she not have noticed their developing friendship?
Evie took a few slow breaths. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said at last and gave a little shrug of her shoulders as if she had confessed to no more than forgetting to take the bins out.
‘Pregnant?’ Gertie said. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure,’ Evie said. ‘I’ve been sure for some time now. It’s due at Christmas.’
‘A Christmas baby?’ Gertie said and Evie nodded.
‘Goodness!’ Gertie said, a little smile breaking across her face, but Evie wasn’t smiling because Celeste had yet to respond.
‘Celeste?’ It was Esther who spoke.
Celeste bit her tongue to stop herself from screaming. She wasn’t going to scream. That would be too much like Penelope and she wasn’t ever going to be like her, was she?
‘Are you going to have it?’ Celeste said at last.
Evie’s mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with disbelief. ‘Of course I’m going to have it. Why wouldn’t I?’
‘It’s just –’ Celeste paused. What was it she was trying to say exactly? ‘I’m finding it hard to believe you’d want to bring a baby into this dysfunctional family.’
As soon as the words were out, Celeste realised that she shouldn’t have said them. Three pairs of eyes stared at her from around the table, nobody daring to say a word.
‘I can’t believe you just said that,’ Evie said a moment later, her voice a horrible whisper.
‘I didn’t mean it to come out like that,’ Celeste said, shaking her head. She turned to Gertie as if expecting some words of support from her, but the wounded look in her eyes told Celeste that she would not be getting any backup from her.
‘Then what did you mean?’ Gertie asked her.
‘I mean . . . I meant . . . are you sure this is the best thing for you – for the family?’
‘For you, don’t you mean? You’re not worrying about me, are you?’ Evie said. ‘You’re worrying about the possibility of more responsibility falling on your head.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ Celeste said.
‘You didn’t have to,’ Evie said. ‘It’s written all over your face!’
‘Evie,’ Esther said, her voice still calm and her hand still resting on Evie’s. ‘Hear Celeste out.’
Evie turned to look at Esther, her face full of betrayal.
‘It’s just – well – I guess I can’t imagine anybody wanting to bring a child into this house. Not after what we all went through with Mum,’ Celeste said. And there it was. Finally out. The sisters had never talked about it together before. It had just hung there between them with each of them thinking thoughts and feeling emotions that were never fully expressed.
The Rose Girls Page 23