Seeing Benny becoming increasingly anxious and distressed Judith suggested the operator could have made a mistake and there was actually a fault on the line. However, before they reported it shouldn’t they make absolutely sure…?
“I must come with you,” cried Benny, and immediately regretted it. She had spoken impulsively, feeling somehow that no one but herself should enter Carey’s room. Yet, as they both climbed the stairs, Benny made herself acknowledge how foolish this attitude was. Pretty soon Kate and Mallory would be living here and then not just Carey’s room but the whole house would probably change beyond recognition.
“This is the one.” Benny paused only long enough to take a single deep breath, then turned the white ceramic knob and went in. She saw the telephone receiver straight away. It was lying on its side on the bedside table.
Judith moved quickly, putting her arm round Benny’s waist. Taking the full weight.
“Benny—look, it’s all right. Come and sit down. You must have made a call and forgotten to—”
“I didn’t! I didn’t…” Benny let herself be supported towards the bed. “I haven’t been in here…”
She sat, pale as paper, lips trembling, hands jiggling. Further denying the possibility, she shook her head back and forth with such ferocity Judith feared she would hurt herself.
“Oh, dear…” Judith attempted to hold Benny and calm this terrible agitation. She tried to remain patient but it wasn’t easy. Surely this was a reaction too far? Next time, she thought, I’ll send Ash. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”
Benny did not reply but her eyes kept sliding sideways to the telephone and she became very still. When Judith picked up the receiver to replace it she gave a little whinny of fear. Judith sighed, struggled not to show her vexation and went downstairs to put the kettle on. The minute the tea was made she would ring the Lawsons. The sooner they came down the better. Benny was not Judith’s responsibility. She had more than enough on her plate without having to cope with hysterical old maids.
The following morning Mrs. Crudge, having spent at least half an hour attempting to comfort, console and counsel was on the point of giving up. As she was to say to her Ernest that very evening, “I was wrung to a wither.”
“Benny, my love—you don’t know how lucky you are.” She drained her coffee cup. “Some folks’d give their right arm to have a direct sign from the paralogical.”
“I thought it was that murderer. From Badger’s Drift.”
“He’s miles away by now.”
“Or a burglar.” Benny started crying and snuffling again.
“Burglars burgle things. They don’t just take a phone off the hook then run off.”
“I suppose not.”
“I mean—it wouldn’t be worth their while, what with prison and everything. Just going around taking phones off hooks.”
“Judith said I must have made a call but I didn’t, Doris. I haven’t been in that room since just before the funeral.”
“Of course you haven’t. No living hand touched that apparatus. It’s a pity you didn’t get on to me straight away. There might have been etheric traces lingering.”
“What could you have done, Doris?”
Doris hesitated. Her solid cheeks took on an almost clover-like hue and Benny realised that her friend was actually blushing.
“Well, I am actually what is known in psychic circles as a sensitive.”
Benny wanted to ask, a sensitive what? but it seemed a bit rude. “What does that mean exactly?”
“We see things.” A definite note of superiority had crept into Mrs. Crudge’s voice. “Things that other people can’t see.”
“You mean things that aren’t there?”
“I shouldn’t fret about technical details, my love. What matters is—the sign’s been given. Miss Lawson’s in touch. All you have to do is come along next Sunday afternoon to receive the message.”
This time Benny didn’t immediately reject the idea. She sat quietly, thinking about it. She thought, what if, in the face of all modern knowledge and intelligence and science and common sense and everything, Doris was right? Could it be true that Carey was making huge efforts to connect, leaving signs and wisps of stuff and suchlike? Imagine the strain, the sheer energy involved in heaving that receiver off its stand. She would not be very pleased if Benny could not even be bothered to go along and collect any messages. It didn’t bear thinking of. Even a disembodied Carey was a force to be reckoned with. What if she came to the house and started haunting?
“Would other people be aware of a…presence, Doris?” Even mentioning the word made Benny feel all spooky. “Kate and Mallory, for instance?”
Doris hesitated before replying. She had known Mallory all her grown-up life. He had been seven years old when she had first started working for Carey Lawson. A regular visitor to Appleby House and a bright little chap always helping himself to cakes and biscuits the minute her back was turned. Or hiding her bag and outdoor shoes, then finding them just as she was about to explode with frustration. But Doris, having no children of her own, had grown quite fond, for there wasn’t a spark of malice in him. Which was more than you could say of that brazen trollop, his daughter. She had been a spiteful, manipulating child and Doris was glad when she got old enough to be left at home.
She liked Kate, though. Unlike some of Carey’s visitors Mallory’s wife was really thoughtful. You’d never arrive first thing to find a sinkful of dirty dishes with food caked on when the Lawsons were staying. Or unmade beds and the bathroom floor swimming and soaking towels thrown all over…
“Sorry, Ben?” Doris’d drifted off for a second there. That was the strange thing about the past: you always remembered it as being much more interesting than the present yet at the time it was happening it had actually been rather dull.
“They’re coming today, you see…” Benny had been overwhelmed with emotion when Judith, having rung the Lawsons, had returned to say that Kate would be with her as soon as possible the next day. And that Mallory would drive down after school had closed. She had wept tears of gratitude, much to Judith’s embarrassment. “…so I was wondering if I should tell them. About Carey…um…”
“Coming through?”
“Yes.”
“Best not.”
In discouraging Benny Mrs. Crudge was not prompted by any notion of exclusivity. She had no wish to shut the Lawsons out – quite the contrary. Nothing would have made her happier than all four of them going along to the Church of the Near at Hand and partaking of spiritual sustenance. But experience had taught her that such an excursion would never happen. That there would always be a barrier dividing the likes of the Lawsons and the church’s congregation. And Mrs. Crudge, over the years, had come to the reluctant conclusion that the barrier was education.
Or rather overeducation. Doris had left school at fifteen and started work straight away. She had never seen the point of exams and did not regret her inability to pass any. Intelligence, it seemed to Doris, could be quite a handicap for a simple person. Obviously everyone needed to read and write. They needed to understand figures, though that wasn’t as important as it used to be what with calculators and everything. But then a line should be drawn. Going on and on and on led to nothing but trouble. Scientists who made bombs, doctors who chopped all the wrong bits off, judges who let criminals go scot-free, all so-called educated people.
As for education opening the mind…That was not what Mrs. Crudge and fellow strivers after a new order of cosmic being had found. The minds of the sneering cynics – which seemed to include practically everyone you met these days – were closed tighter than sprung traps. Oh, the workers for the high meridian knew what it was to be a persecuted minority all right! And yet these know-alls, these eggheads, were the real losers for they had lost the ability to believe in miracles. They had lost their way.
“I think, Ben – if you’re worried about telling Mallory, say you’re going round mine for tea come Sunday.”<
br />
“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” said Benny, deeply embarrassed. “It would be a lie.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Doris was getting up now, reaching for her outdoor coat, a light wool in spite of the warmth of the day. “That’s exactly what we’ll be doing after the service – having tea together.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Though sounding subdued and even a little fearful, in fact Benny had already decided she would go. If anything dramatic happened she would be with a friend and surrounded by people so could come to no harm. And if nothing happened she would regard the whole thing as a bit of an adventure and enjoy the slap-up spread.
Benny sighed and wished she felt what Doris would doubtless call “a bit more smart.” She had slept thoroughly, if not very well, waking with nothing worse than a dry mouth, a bit of a headache and a general feeling of stupefaction. Judith had offered her some of Ashley’s sleeping pills, which Benny had refused to take on the grounds that they could be dangerous, being someone else’s prescription.
Judith got really terse then, saying that she couldn’t possibly leave Benny in the state she was and that she, Judith, had a job to do the next day and a sick husband to look after and needed her sleep just as much if not more than Benny did. So Benny had meekly swallowed two pills and was now wishing she hadn’t.
When Doris had left, Benny got slowly to her feet, washed up the coffee cups then made the bed in Kate and Mallory’s room with clean linen and lavender bags underneath the pillows. She had no notion of when Kate would actually arrive but, in case it was before lunch, decided to buy some fresh crusty bread from the Spar shop.
It took almost twenty minutes to cover the quarter-mile walk for Benny had to stop and chat to anything on two legs and pat or stroke anything on four. The store had some really nice York ham on the bone. Benny bought half a pound for sandwiches, some peaches and a quilted paper towel roll decorated with apple blossom. She picked up a Times then, making her way to the till, spotted the jolliest little item imaginable. A Highland terrier carved from a huge cake of soap, coloured and scented lilac. It came with a bone-shaped sponge, also coloured lilac. The bone was encircled by a tiny collar made of real leather holding a disc marked “To:” and “From:,” all ready to write on.
Benny felt she owed Judith an apology for being such a nuisance last night as well as a thank you for all her kind help. She would call in on the way home – they would have finished breakfast by now – and what’s more she would take the terrier as a present!
Judith appeared somewhat taken aback by the soap and sponge. She handed it straight to Ashley saying, “Just look what Benny’s brought us.”
“How lovely.” He smiled, taking the box. “Do stay and have some tea, Ben. It must get a bit lonely over there.”
“If you’re sure…Such a welcome. Benny, beaming at both the Parnells in turn, settled happily by the window. She had just started to tell them of Croydon’s latest adventure – overtaken by greed and confidence he had fallen into the fish pond – when Judith leaped up crying: “My fax! Excuse me…”
“I think being underwater is really frightening,” said Ashley. “I’ve always been afraid of drowning.”
“I’m afraid of drowning too.” Benny spoke as if it was the most joyful coincidence ever. She was also afraid of being kidnapped, falling through the sky, and being bitten by tarantulas, which she knew turned up on a regular basis in crates of bananas. “Which is why I never eat one. Or sail.”
Ashley offered Benny a croissant. “There’s plenty left. And some black cherry jam.”
“You’ve made a real friend over at Appleby House,” said Benny, taking a croissant and smothering it with butter. “Polly was talking about you for ages the other night. Asking all sorts of questions.”
“Really?”
“She’s such a kind person. So sympathetic.”
“I’ve only met her once but she seemed…charming.” Ashley adjusted the blanket around his legs then, with a sudden impatient movement, threw it off altogether. “I suppose I should return the compliment. Do you know when she’ll be coming down again? Will she be living here when her parents move? And what about boyfriends – she must have lots – is there anyone special?”
“Someone rang up very late the other night and she went rushing out. Young people…” Benny sighed and shook her head looking so bewildered she might have been talking about young dinosaurs. Then she said, “I know it’s rude to make personal remarks so I hope you’ll forgive me but you’re looking so much better today, Ashley.”
Benny was not just being polite. There was colour in Ashley’s lips, his eyes were bright and his cheeks flushed.
“D’you think so?” Though he hadn’t noticed looking better – Ashley looked in the mirror as little as possible these days – he suddenly felt it might well be true. Actually he had felt pretty well the other day too, talking to Kate in her kitchen. He should be with people more. It wasn’t good for him and Jude to be cooped up here twenty-four hours a day. He wondered for the first time if his illness might be psychosomatic.
“Look, I’ve had an idea. Next time Polly comes down we must have a little supper – just the four of us – so Judith and I can get to know her better.”
“Gosh – that sounds lovely.”
“Maybe you could give me her London address? And we can sort dates out.”
“I’ll bring it over right away.” Life, thought Benny, was getting more interesting by the minute.
“It’s Judith’s birthday soon. We could make it a celebration.”
“What a wonderful idea,” cried Benny.
“Only…” Ashley put a finger to his lips and spoke very quietly, “I’d like it to be a surprise.”
“I understand.” Benny became equally hushed. “Mum’s the word.”
Judith sat in her dark cubbyhole, listening. Wondering at the sudden shift from clear audibility into whispering murmurs. There had been no fax, of course. She just had to get away. One more minute of Benny’s bouncing, indiscriminate enthusiasm and she felt she would scream. As for that ghastly soap…
Now they were laughing. She couldn’t remember when Ashley had last laughed out loud. It was a strong sound, reminding her of the old days. How could this stupid woman make Ashley laugh when she herself so often failed? Well, they would not shut her out. Judith closed down her computer and was about to return to the kitchen when the telephone rang. She snatched up the receiver and all her mental grumbling ceased. It was the clerk at their doctor’s surgery. Could Mr. Parnell manage a 4:30 appointment next Tuesday? She was irritatingly vague about the reason. Judith expected nothing else. People who worked in Appointments always pretended they didn’t know anything. It must be the results of his recent blood test. Her mouth suddenly dry she hurried away to tell Ashley.
7
Halfway through the afternoon of 20 July, the last day in his final week at the Ewan Sedgewick Comprehensive, Mallory was trying not to let his euphoria show. It would not be kind. He knew there was not a teacher in the school who did not envy him. Or who was not keenly aware that he had not earned his retirement fair and square. Like winning the bloody lottery he had overheard his secretary muttering and, in essence, Mallory had to agree. Except that he had won something far more important than money – he had won his freedom.
He was in his office, stripping the walls of posters, timetables, lists of sports fixtures home and away. Once, dates to remember and now to forget for ever. He picked up his heavy desk diary, sprayed the page edges fiercely against the ball of his thumb and seven months of inscribed misery spun by. Parents’ meetings, staff meetings, union meetings, governors’ meetings; meetings with the police, probation officers, janitors, ground staff, schools inspectors, caterers, admin. Old Uncle Dave Blunkett and all.
About to toss the hated book into the bin Mallory was suddenly seized by a gleeful, childish will to destroy. He wrenched the spine apart, then ripped out the pages a fistful at a time, ripping t
hem up, tearing them again and again, then hurling the bits into the air like so much confetti. Halfway through this ridiculous display he stopped, the pointlessness of the whole business overwhelming him, making him sad.
Only forty minutes to go. He didn’t have to stick it out, of course. Indeed, he need not have come in at all, and actually got the impression that the Office was surprised to see him. But, by some strange reversal of feeling, now that Mallory could choose he chose to be present at the Ewan Sedgewick to the no longer bitter end.
He was trying not to regret too much that the celebration he had planned with Kate for tonight had had to be cancelled. Of course they must go down to Forbes Abbot if Benny was ill. But he had been so looking forward to it.
They hadn’t eaten at Riva’s, their favourite restaurant, for almost three years. The last time was Mallory’s birthday but he had been so tired and strung out that even the delicious food, discreet service and lovely surroundings could not make the evening a success. How different this time would have been.
At this point in his reminiscence the phone rang. He was disinclined to answer. What could it have to do with him? He had cut free of all duties, said goodbye to the handful of people he would be sorry not to see again and for sure there was no surprise party waiting in the wings. So why pick it up?
Afterwards he wondered what difference it would have made if he had gone then. Just put on his coat and left with it ringing in his ears. Possibly, in the long run, not a lot. Things would have been delayed, is all. The outcome would have been the same.
“Hello?”
The receiver made a strange, strangled noise.
“Who is this?”
“Aahh…” Crying, sobbing. “Dad…”
“Polly? Polly…”
“I’m in such…such…trouble.”
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