Her Frozen Heart

by Lulu Taylor

  Patrick gazed out at her across the gulf of time.

  ‘My darling,’ he said in a soft voice, ‘I didn’t say yes, and I didn’t say no. It gave me great pleasure to make her life hell. She didn’t know it. She thought she was winning and that’s what I let her think. Because as long as she thought that she was beating you, she was happy and that took the heat off you. She was kinder and nicer to you, she stopped being quite such a grade A bitch. And I knew she was going to be in our lives.’ He nodded and said wryly, ‘Let’s face it. We were both fascinated by her. She is compelling.’

  But what did you do?

  ‘So,’ he said, as if in answer, ‘I didn’t have an affair with Sara, but I did something else. You may not like it – in fact, I’m sure you won’t – but try to understand. I told her that she had to learn to obey me. I wanted to become her controller. I held out the vague idea that at some point, I’d give her what she wanted – and that made her want to win me even more. She liked that idea that I was her master: it tickled her sense of naughtiness, her rather basic sense of drama. But most of all she liked our secret conspiracy, of which you were completely unaware. So she played my game. I gave her orders to carry out: some simple, some more complicated and difficult, some that would titillate her. I liked the fact that she would obey me when she obeyed no one else. She went where I told her, did what I demanded. I set her tasks, treasure hunts and challenges. You know the kind of thing, darling. Like our games, but with the joy taken out.’

  Caitlyn couldn’t take her eyes off him, her breath coming in short bursts. She could see it all in her mind as he spoke.

  ‘But she’s always trying to spin it into a sexual situation. She can’t resist sending me pictures of herself – ones she thinks are erotic but aren’t. You know Sara’s clumsiness in the area of seduction – she flirts like someone from another planet who’s been told how to do it but doesn’t understand the first thing about how it works. She’s tasteful and sophisticated but incredibly simple, almost burlesque, when it comes to sex. She boasts to me of the parties she goes to – I doubt she’s told you, but she belongs to one of those clubs that have civilised little orgies in hotels and houses all over Europe. All the elaborate underwear and masks and feathery bits and bobs, and the emotionless encounters with supposedly sexy strangers are right up her alley. She loves to tell me how she sleeps with men and women, or hangs from the ceiling in latex slings and whatever else.’ Patrick laughed. ‘She never realises how funny I find it. She thinks it’s fashionable and edgy, and that I must be crazed with lust at the idea of a load of people writhing on velvet cushions in bondage gear while getting out the whipped cream and the nipple clamps.’ He laughed again, shaking his head. ‘She really doesn’t mind abasing herself if she thinks it will get her what she wants. She’s sent me the most ridiculous film and pictures of herself. I have it all. You’ll find them in a secret stash on here, just in case you ever need them. You’ll have to win a few rounds of snake in order to get more clues but hey, that’s what will make it fun.’ Patrick winked at her. ‘You know how I like my games.’

  He looked serious suddenly. Clasping his hands together as if in supplication, he leaned towards the camera again and now she saw his lips and teeth and eyes in amazing clarity, and the way his face moved and the breath going in and out of him. He was alive, utterly and completely alive.

  ‘But Caitlyn, I never slept with her. And I never would. I’ve done it for you. To protect you and to prove to you that she really is not worth agonising over. She’d sleep with me in an instant, and she’s almost made herself believe that we have a sexual relationship. She’s probably told you that. But we haven’t. Never. I’ve never loved her or anything like that. Good God, I don’t think I even like her all that much.’ He was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I suppose . . . if I’m honest . . . that part of me enjoys these games with her. Maybe I do get a kind of kick out of the way she’s pursuing me while pretending to be my creature. I’m amused by all the hopeless, soulless stuff she thinks is sexy, and the elaborate pretence that I might, one day, give her what she wants. What’s the point in lying now? You know me too well anyway. But that’s not love. If she says differently, you can show her this. You’ve got all the proof you need to destroy her if you want to. It’s up to you.’ Patrick leaned back in his chair again and sighed. ‘I guess if you’re watching this, then I’m dead. I was flying back from Geneva the other day and it occurred to me that if I died in a plane crash, Sara would have all the tools necessary to make it look as though we were engaged in an affair. I pay for all her little adventures and the things she needs for them, and she could easily twist that if I’m not there to deny it. I know that she would want to destroy our happiness retrospectively if she could. So I decided then that I would record this message for you, just in case. But actually, it’s a good idea, isn’t it? We should all record our just-in-case farewell, and renew it every year. I know you, Caitlyn, and I knew it wouldn’t occur to you to look through my private things unless you had a very good reason. And Sara would be it. So I’ve laid some clues for you if you happen to come looking. That way you can live in happy ignorance if Sara behaves completely out of character and chooses to let the past go, but the truth is right here if you ever need it.’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Caitlyn murmured, sniffing. He had always had that ability to look ahead, and a perception so acute that sometimes it seemed like second sight. He had considered his own death and what might happen, and countered it with this message, just in case.

  Patrick blinked his handsome grey-green eyes and smiled at her. ‘So, darling, I’m dead. I wish it weren’t so. I’ll miss you and Max, and I hate the idea that I’m not going to grow old with you, and see how our boy turns out. But I know you’ll look after him and love him and do your best by him. You’re a great mother, Caitlyn. I never tell you often enough. You are a wonderful wife as well. I love you. Please forgive all my shit behaviour and my inability to give in. I hope it wasn’t too bad. And now I’m dead. I’ve gone ahead into that great unknown.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’ll tell you what it’s like if I can reach you but my guess is that I won’t be able to. And of course I’m really pissed off that I don’t know the end of my own story. I just hope it wasn’t too awful. I hope it was fast. Was it fast? Did I suffer?’ He shrugged. ‘Well, it’s academic now. It’s in the past, right?’

  ‘Oh Patrick.’ She was crying hard now, her finger lightly touching his face. ‘You didn’t suffer. It was fast. I’m so sorry. I wish you were here.’

  ‘But here’s the thing,’ Patrick went on, oblivious to her and to his own future. ‘I want you to go on and not look back. Sell everything and start your life anew. Do what you think is right for Max, even if it’s taking him out of Spring Hall.’ He made a silly stern face and said in a growly voice, ‘Don’t take him out of Spring Hall!’ then laughed. ‘I’m kidding. Do what’s best. Follow your heart. Fall in love again. Be happy, with my blessing.’

  ‘I will,’ she said, tears falling faster. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But I have one last thing for you to do. Okay? It’s very important so listen carefully.’ Patrick leaned forward to the camera again. ‘Get Sara out of your life! I mean it. You’re better than all that. You’ll only really flourish when she’s gone. Right? That’s it. Goodbye, my darling. Tell Max I love him to the end of time. And I love you too.’ He leaned forward and switched off the recording. The screen went blank.

  Goodbye, Patrick. Goodbye, goodbye.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  It was strange for Tommy to return to the world of snow and ice after the sojourn in London, where the weather had been tamed and pushed back. Once outside the city centre, there was the familiar view of acres of white roofs and chimneys and roads thick with drifts. A short while later, as they headed out into the countryside, there was a sea of white almost as far as they could see.

  Tommy couldn’t think of anything but getting home as quickly as possible. Fred had cancelled his
appointments so that he could meet her at Paddington and catch the train back to Kings Harcourt and now the two of them sat, agitated and unhappy, urging the engine on as they sped ever closer.

  ‘We should have rung immediately to tell them about Barbara,’ Tommy said under her breath to hide their conversation from the others in the carriage.

  ‘How could we?’ Fred replied. ‘The lines are down.’

  ‘We should have told them about Barbara in the wire I sent, instead of waiting.’

  ‘Perhaps. But we thought there was time. We had no idea.’

  Tommy clenched her fist inside her glove and hit down into her lap. ‘We should have guessed. Oh God, where can he have gone?’

  Fred looked grim. He stared out of the window at the snowy fields beyond the train and she knew he was thinking the same as she was. In this weather, where could he have gone? He couldn’t drive far, or get to the station without help. And as for walking somewhere . . .

  Surely he wouldn’t have done that. Oh Roger.

  She had sent a telegram to Gerry to let her know that she was returning and that they would need Thornton to collect them. He was waiting at the station in the rusty old truck, his eyes anxious.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Miss Tommy,’ he said as she and Fred climbed in. ‘It hasn’t been the same since you left.’

  ‘Is there any news, Thornton?’

  He shook his head. ‘Miss Gerry went to report to the constable yesterday afternoon, and they sent out a search party this morning but there’s no sign of him yet. And there’s snow due to come tonight.’

  ‘Oh no. Let’s get home, Thornton, please.’

  They made the journey back in near silence, the grinding of the engine too much for them to talk over. Tommy found herself shivering hard inside her fur coat. She had forgotten the bone-gnawing cold. It was only when they turned into the lane and saw the house, so familiar and beloved, at the end of it that Tommy felt a lump in her throat. Fred must have sensed her reaction, for he quietly took her hand and squeezed it. She smiled at him gratefully.

  It was already growing dark as they approached the house and Tommy could see people with sticks and lanterns standing by the gates. One of them was the constable in a huge black great coat, his constable’s hat buckled firmly under his chin. As soon as Thornton had stopped, she jumped down and ran over.

  ‘Constable, is there any news? Any sign of my brother?’

  ‘No, Mrs Eliott, I’m afraid not.’ The policeman gestured at the crowd of volunteers. ‘I’m calling them off for the night. It’s getting dark and more snow is forecast. We can’t stay out.’

  ‘No. Of course not,’ Tommy said miserably. ‘I quite understand. Would everyone like cocoa or something before they go?’

  ‘No, thank you, ma’am, we appreciate the thought, but it’s as well to get home while there’s some light left. We’ll be back tomorrow, depending on the weather.’

  Tommy felt awful as she watched them begin to trek off. Just then a dark shape came flying out towards her from the house and the next moment, Gerry was hugging her tightly.

  ‘Oh Tommy, you’re back! I’m so happy to see you.’ Gerry started weeping the moment she was close to her sister. ‘We’re all in a terrible state, Mother too. You must come in!’ She noticed Fred. ‘Oh Mr BB, you’re back too. I’m so pleased. Come on.’

  They followed her in and found the family in the sitting room, the children playing a muted game of draughts while Mrs Whitfield sat on the sofa, not sewing now but staring into the flames. The children jumped up, shouting with pleasure, as Tommy walked in, and came running over for hello hugs, except Molly who hung back. Mrs Whitfield watched, despair all over her face. When Tommy caught her eye and said, ‘Hello, Mother,’ she put out a trembling hand.

  ‘Oh Tommy,’ she said in a choked voice. ‘You’re back. Then they haven’t found him?’

  ‘Mother, no. I’m so sorry.’ Tommy went over to her mother and hugged her, and her mother seemed to fall into her arms, suddenly small and frail and very old.

  ‘You shouldn’t be sorry,’ her mother said quietly. ‘I sent you away. This wouldn’t have happened if you and Fred had been here.’

  ‘We can’t possibly know that,’ Tommy said quickly. ‘Let’s not blame anyone at all.’ She looked around. ‘Where’s Barbara?’

  ‘She’s gone to her room,’ Gerry said, her eyes wide and almost frightened. ‘She hasn’t come down today. She’s not in a good way at all.’

  Tommy and Fred exchanged looks. ‘I’ll go and see her,’ Tommy said.

  ‘Call me if you need me,’ murmured Fred as she went by. ‘I’ll be near and waiting.’

  She nodded and walked slowly to the hall and then up the stairs. Below her, the sad eyes of Venetia and her paper-white skin gleamed in the twilight.

  Tommy knocked at the door of the rose bedroom. ‘Barbara?’

  There was silence, perhaps the slightest shiver of movement from inside.

  ‘Barbara, it’s me, Tommy. I’d like to talk to you.’

  There was no reply.

  ‘I’m going to come in now.’ Tommy turned the door handle and pushed the door ajar. It opened easily to reveal the gloomy room beyond. Despite her love of electricity, Barbara had not put any lights on.

  Tommy went in, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the murkiness. Then she saw Barbara lying fully clothed on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  ‘So you’re back,’ she said flatly.

  ‘That’s right. We’re worried about Roger. Do you know what’s happened to him?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Barbara replied.

  ‘Did he say anything before he left?’

  Barbara turned her head to fix her with cold blue eyes. ‘No. He told me he was the happiest man in the world.’

  Tommy gazed back at her. ‘I think we both know that isn’t true. I’ve got some interesting news for you. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that your husband Duncan wasn’t killed in Burma after all. He’s alive and well and living in London, and very keen to see you.’

  Barbara stiffened at the mention of her husband’s name, an expression of shock flitting over her face, then quickly recovered herself. ‘It’s true I said I was widowed, but in fact we are divorced,’ she said coldly. ‘I’ve said nothing about it as I truly believed he was intending to live abroad in future and I thought it would spare Molly.’

  ‘How thoughtful.’ Tommy’s voice was just as cold but there was an anger in its depths. ‘You can stop lying now, Barbara. We know the truth. You’re not divorced and not likely to be for months. You got engaged to Roger knowing you had a husband living, and we have your husband’s signed affidavit to that effect.’

  Barbara drew in a sharp breath, but retained her composure.

  She’s a cool customer, all right.

  ‘And how much,’ Barbara asked, ‘did you pay for that bit of fiction? You can’t believe a word that man says; he’s a crook and a con artist. I’ll sue him for defamation.’

  ‘I would really like to see that, Barbara, because I think you’ve overplayed your hand. You got a little bit cocky. You thought you were so clever that you could divorce your husband without ever being found out, and get engaged to someone else at the same time. No doubt you’d have found some reason to go on an extended trip to establish your residence somewhere and get your case through the courts in secret. But while you were busy sorting out that business – and you might have got away with it, too, as Duncan was quite willing to give you your divorce for a price – you forgot about Roger. That poor, deluded man who thought he must be doing the right thing marrying you – because that’s what you told him. You thought he was in the bag, didn’t you? You stopped trying to make him happy.’

  ‘Your mother was also keen on the whole idea,’ Barbara said, apparently untouched by Tommy’s words. ‘She fought my battles for me if you must know. Roger knew full well that she wanted him to propose to me. So he did. If he wasn’t the marrying kind, that’s hardly my f
ault.’

  ‘Her role in it all is something that will haunt Mother, I have no doubt.’ Tommy went over to the armchair by the window and sat down, not taking her eyes off Barbara. ‘And it might have been all right if you hadn’t decided to bully Roger. It wasn’t enough to make a man marry you when he didn’t love you, or even want to be married at all. You had to humiliate him too, make him your lap dog, show off the fact that you were now in charge. My guess is that it didn’t take Roger long to realise what a mistake he had made, and he was too fragile to cope with that knowledge. He was cast into despair. He couldn’t bear the misery that a future with you would entail. Gerry knew it – she saw it.’ Tommy got up and walked slowly towards Barbara. ‘You could have had everything you wanted. Now he’s run away and you’ll get nothing because we have all the information we need to stop you.’

  Barbara sat bolt upright on the bed and sneered at Tommy. ‘You make me sick,’ she hissed. ‘Your self-righteous priggery is unbearable! How is it my fault? Did I make him disappear? I could have brought some style to this dump. I could have made life exciting. Instead he turned out to be just another coward, like all the rest. I have no sympathy for him. I don’t know where he’s gone, and I don’t care.’

  ‘You never understood him for a moment, did you?’ Tommy said angrily. ‘He isn’t like you, he isn’t tough and selfish and hedonistic and pragmatic. He’s a romantic with his head in the clouds, who believes in ideals whether or not they could ever exist in the real world. If he hadn’t been heir to this place, you would never have looked at him twice.’

  ‘Maybe. But I won’t be lectured by someone born to all of this, who has never had to worry about the bread in her children’s mouths. You don’t know what it’s like to struggle, as I have! It’s easy to be moral when you’re not put to the test. If you had to, you’d do exactly what I have.’