“Quinn, we are due to move up north before the start of the fall term. That’s less than two months from now. Truth is, every time I imagine myself back at the family home I suddenly feel as if I’m being buried alive. Sorry, I shouldn’t have used that comparison, not after what you’ve been through.”
Quinn reached over and took his hand in hers. “No, that’s exactly the comparison you should have used, because now I’m in a unique position to understand what you’re going through. Now, tell me why you feel so strongly about moving back.”
“Quinn, I hate that house. I couldn’t wait to leave for uni. I never went back, except to visit my parents. My life is in London, and has been for thirty years. And your life is here as well. I worry about you and the baby and I need to know that we have access to the best medical care England has to offer, and that’s here, in London. And I worry about Emma as well. She’s just beginning to settle into her new life. She’s been happier these past few months, calmer. She’s had fewer nightmares and has mentioned Jenna less often. She’ll never fully recover from the death of her mother, but she’s finally getting to a place where she can live with her loss. Uprooting her again might have repercussions. And then there’s the financial cost of this move,” Gabe added.
“We’ll no longer have to pay two mortgages,” Quinn said in an effort to make Gabe feel better.
“No, we won’t, but we’ll have to pay crippling death duties and spend a fortune on repairs. I had an inspector come out to the house last week. The roof needs replacing, there’s dry rot, a large portion of the masonry is crumbling, and don’t even get me started on the plumbing and electricity. Everything is in its original condition. I can hardly expect to address all these issues on a teacher’s salary.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard back from several schools up north. They’re happy to have me, but only as an educator, and at a third of what I earn now.”
Quinn studied Gabe’s beloved face. He looked genuinely sad, and, for lack of a better word, evasive.
“What are you not telling me?” she asked.
“I’ve been offered the directorship of the institute,” Gabe replied. “It comes with a hefty pay raise.”
“That job is your dream come true,” Quinn replied, finally understanding what had been eating at Gabe these past few days. He really would be sacrificing a lot to move back home to a place he had no desire to be. “Is there another option?”
Gabe shook his head. “Not that I can think of. My mother would never agree to leave her home. She’s lived there for over fifty years, and I can’t allow her to remain there on her own. It’s too much for her.”
“Gabe, there must be a solution. Surely your mother would understand, especially if you tell her about this opportunity.”
“Yes, she would, which is why I can’t tell her. She’ll urge me to remain in London and do what’s best for me, and I simply can’t take her up on that with a clear conscience.”
“Let me give this some thought,” Quinn promised as Emma called out from the other room. “Emma is awake, and I’m starving.”
“All right,” Gabe agreed, but he still looked dejected.
Chapter 2
Quinn had just taken a forkful of her vegetable korma, which wasn’t half bad, when Gabe’s mobile began to vibrate. The rule was, no phones at the dinner table, but after Gabe glanced at the screen, he took the call, with an apologetic smile to Quinn. “It’s my mother,” he mouthed.
“Put her on speaker, I want to say hello,” Quinn said. Putting Phoebe on speaker would ensure a much shorter conversation.
Gabe pressed the speaker button and Phoebe’s voice flooded the kitchen.
“Hi, Mum. Are you all right?” Gabe asked. Phoebe rarely called in the evening. She called Gabe first thing in the morning when she woke up. She said it was her loneliest time, since every morning, for just a few moments, she forgot that her beloved Graham was gone, and turned to his side of the bed to say good morning. Each morning, she experienced her loss all over again, and needed to hear Gabe’s voice to feel less alone in the world.
“No, I’m most definitely not all right.”
“Are you ill?” Gabe demanded. “Do you need me to come?”
“I’m not ill, but I do need you to come,” Phoebe replied. She sounded unusually jittery, her voice high and trembling with anxiety.
“Mum, what is it?”
“There’s a body in the kitchen,” Phoebe announced dramatically, as if she were in an Agatha Christie film.
“Whose body?” Gabe asked. “Is it Buster?” Buster was just a puppy, but he was the only other living creature in the house, and he might have had an accident.
“No!” Emma cried. She loved Buster and couldn’t wait to claim him as her own once they moved.
“No, darling, Buster is fine,” Phoebe reassured her. “Son, perhaps you should take me off speaker now. This conversation is not for Emma’s ears.”
“It’s all right, Grandma Phoebe, I’m finished,” Emma said and slid off her chair. “I’ll go to my room.”
Emma ran off, leaving Gabe and Quinn to stare at the phone.
“Mum?” Gabe prompted.
Phoebe took a shuddering breath. “The water in the kitchen sink wouldn’t go down,” she said. “I tried to pour that special liquid down the sink, but it didn’t help. The water kept backing up, and it was brown and muddy.”
“Go on,” Gabe encouraged her. Phoebe had a habit of starting from afar. Very far.
“I called the plumber. Do you remember Peter Reed? Pamela’s boy. You two went to primary school together.”
“Yes, I remember Peter. Did he fix the sink?”
“Well, Peter said there was an obstruction, so he got this long metal rod and tried to push if through,” Phoebe explained.
“Mum, is Peter lying on the kitchen floor as we speak?” Gabe asked.
“No, why would you think such a thing?” Phoebe retorted.
“Because you said there’s a body in the kitchen, and if it’s not Buster, then who else can it be but Peter?” Gabe replied patiently.
“Now you’re just being silly.”
“Am I?”
“Of course. Peter left hours ago.”
Gabe closed his eyes and took a deep breath, obviously praying for patience. “Mum, who is dead?”
“Well, I don’t know, do I?”
“Well, I certainly don’t,” Gabe snapped.
“I would be happy to tell you if you’d stop interrupting me, Gabriel,” Phoebe chastised him. “Where were we?”
“The long metal rod,” Gabe reminded her.
“Ah, yes. Well, Peter tried to clear the obstruction, but said it was much deeper than the rod could reach. He said that the pipe would need to be replaced. He had to break the kitchen floor to get to it.” Phoebe exhaled loudly. “He made quite a hole. Much larger than was strictly necessary, if you ask me.”
“Did he find the problem?”
“Eventually. A tree root had grown through the pipe and caused a blockage. That’s the tree just beyond the kitchen garden. It really is a lovely old thing,” Phoebe went on. “I do love when it changes colors in the autumn. So beautiful. Your father loved that tree. Never wanted to prune the branches, not even when they started to bang against the window in the wind.”
“Mum, the body,” Gabe prompted gently.
“Right. Well, when Peter broke the floor and made the hole much wider than he should have, he saw it.”
“Saw what?”
“The elbow.”
“Whose elbow?”
“The body’s elbow, Gabe. Pay attention.”
Gabe looked like he was about to bang his head against the wall, but he took a steadying breath and summarized the situation in the most economical way possible. “So, Peter broke the kitchen floor and stumbled on a body. I’m assuming he called the police, who came and went, since if the burial was recent, they’d likely still be there, processing the crime scen
e. Given that the burial is not recent, these must be skeletal remains that you’d like me to excavate and remove from the kitchen. Am I correct?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“Not quite.”
“Well, it’s what I meant. I refuse to use the kitchen until that thing has been removed. It’s gruesome, son. The police unearthed enough of it to make coming into the kitchen simply out of the question.”
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” Gabe promised. “Please don’t disturb the grave any more than it has already been tampered with.”
“I’m not touching anything. Haven’t you heard me? I won’t go into the kitchen.”
“How will you manage?” Gabe asked, worried that his mother had declared a hunger strike, but Phoebe was too practical a woman for such nonsense.
“I’m going to stay with Cecily Creston-Jones for a few days.”
“Mum, did Peter replace the pipe?”
“No, the police advised him not to touch anything until they’ve had a chance to examine the scene.”
“Did he turn the water off in the entire house?” Gabe asked.
“No, just the kitchen. There’s clean water in the upstairs bath.”
“All right. Good.”
“Why? What does it matter?” Phoebe asked.
“It matters because it takes time to excavate a burial site properly, and I will need water if I’m to stay at the house.”
“You?” Quinn asked. “Don’t you mean ‘we’?”
Gabe’s eyebrows rose unnaturally high in surprise, but he finished the phone call with his mother before addressing Quinn’s comment. “If you think, for just one moment, that you will be working in the kitchen with me, you have another think coming, Mrs. Russell. You can come with me, if you wish, but you will march upstairs on arrival and rest, as per doctor’s orders, while I deal with the situation in the kitchen.”
“Like hell I will,” Quinn retorted.
Gabe folded his arms and stared her down until Quinn conceded.
“All right, I will not do any physical excavating, but I will not be sent to my room like a child. I will assist you in spirit.”
“Fine,” Gabe agreed. “It was worth a try.”
“What about Emma? Should we ask Sylvia to mind her for a few days?”
Gabe shook his head. “No, not after what happened last time.”
“But it was a misunderstanding, and Emma loves spending time with Logan and Jude. Besides, she might be frightened by the skeleton.”
“Quinn, with us as parents, she will have to deal with human remains soon enough. She’s coming with us. We’ll just keep her out of the kitchen.”
“Deal,” Quinn agreed and smiled broadly.
“You’re excited about this, aren’t you?” Gabe asked, grinning back at her.
“You know something, I really am. Nothing cheers me up as much as unearthing a skeleton.”
“Me too,” Gabe confessed. “This should be interesting.”
“I’m just glad to know that I’m not the only one with skeletons in the cupboard,” Quinn joked.
Chapter 3
July 2014
Berwick-upon-Tweed
Quinn had never particularly liked the manor house, but today, after only one day of standing vacant, it looked forbidding and sinister. Some might think her fanciful, but she knew that buildings, like people, had their own moods, and the manor wasn’t pleased with having its secrets unearthed.
Gabe went in first, and when he opened the door with his key, the house seemed to almost suck in its breath. Gabe stopped on the threshold and stood still for a moment, as though he felt it too, but he would never say it aloud. Gabe wasn’t one to give in to such superstitious nonsense.
“Come on in,” Gabe called to Quinn and Emma, who were dawdling on the steps.
“Where’s Buster?” Emma whined. She looked around as if she expected the puppy to come bounding toward her, but the place was clearly deserted.
“I expect Grandma Phoebe took Buster with her,” Gabe explained. “She couldn’t leave him here all alone.”
“He would guard the place,” Emma replied. “He’s fierce.”
Gabe tried to mask his chuckle with a cough. Buster was about as fierce as a newborn chick. “I’ll call Mum and let her know we’re here,” he said as he carried their bags into the hall.
Quinn went up to the bedroom they’d stayed in when visiting her in-laws. She smiled as she passed Gabe’s old room. Old posters hung on the walls, and every surface was covered with books, maps, and construction sets. The preserved teenager’s room was a silent tribute to the boy Gabe had been, and a glimpse into Phoebe’s nostalgia.
Gabe followed Quinn with the bags. He deposited Emma’s case in the small bedroom next to theirs, where she’d slept before. The room must have been a dressing room at one time, but had been converted to a bedroom once such extravagances went out of fashion. Emma liked having her own room, but needed to know that Quinn and Gabe were next door and she could call out to them if she woke up during the night or wanted a cuddle in the morning.
Quinn opened Emma’s case, extracted her pajamas and Mr. Rabbit, and put her toothbrush, hairbrush, and strawberry-scented shampoo in the bathroom. Emma stood in the doorway, looking disgruntled. She’d looked forward to seeing Buster, and was sorely disappointed.
“Hello,” Phoebe called from downstairs. “Emma, darling, I’m back.”
A happy bark followed, and Emma thudded down the stairs to say hello to Phoebe and her beloved pup. Quinn followed at a much slower pace.
“You are glowing,” Phoebe said as she kissed Quinn on both cheeks. “How’s my grandson?”
“It might be a granddaughter,” Quinn answered with a grin. They’d had this conversation several times before, but Phoebe was sticking to her guns.
“It might be, but it isn’t.” Phoebe laid a hand on Quinn’s rounded belly. “Ooh, I can feel his bum.”
“How do you know it’s his bum?” Quinn asked, curious. She frequently felt her stomach, but couldn’t really tell what was what just yet.
“Because if it was his head, it’d be much harder. Russell men are notoriously hard-headed, or haven’t you noticed?” Phoebe laughed.
“I heard that,” Gabe called out from above.
Phoebe chuckled. “They have excellent hearing too, but only when it suits their purpose. Ask them to change a lightbulb or rake the leaves, and they go deaf in both ears.”
“Have you come back to stay?” Quinn asked.
Phoebe shook her head. “No, dear. I can’t remain in this house until that thing is removed. I know it’s silly, but for some reason I find it very unsettling. And my friend Cecily has a very comfortable cottage with several guest bedrooms. Perhaps Emma should stay with me until you’ve finished,” she suggested.
“Yes, please,” Emma said as she danced around Phoebe. “I want to be where Buster is.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Gabe said as he came down the stairs. “Cecily Creston-Jones is lovely, and I believe she has a puppy of her own—a Yorkie called Angus. You’ll be in dog heaven, Em.”
“It’s all right with me,” Quinn agreed. Emma was too young to be present at an excavation of a skeleton, especially when it was in the kitchen.
“We’ll make a start tomorrow,” Gabe said. “Tonight, I’m taking everyone to dinner, including Cecily, to a restaurant of your choice. You decide amongst yourselves while I take a look at the ‘lodger’ in the kitchen.”
“I want pizza,” Emma exclaimed. “And ice cream.”
“Of course you do, love,” Phoebe said, smiling. “You always want pizza and ice cream.”
“Don’t you like pizza?” Emma asked her grandmother, as though suddenly realizing that not everyone might like what she likes.
“I do, but not as much as you do. How about dinner at the pub?” Phoebe asked Emma. “This way we can all get what we want.”
“All right,” Emma answered, shrugging. “What
ever.” She enunciated the word, making it sound like an insult.
“Is that attitude I sense?” Phoebe asked Quinn as Emma ran after Buster.
Quinn sighed. “Some days I think she’s already a teenager. By the way, Phoebe, Emma’s birthday is in August, and we’d like to have a party for her. Perhaps we can do something really special, since it’s her first birthday without her mum and she’ll be feeling sad. I hope you’ll come.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I wouldn’t miss it. If you need any help planning, count me in. I feel so restless since Graham died. I don’t know what to do with my time.”
“What did you do before?” Quinn asked.
“I made him breakfast, lunch, and tea. I bullied him into taking daily walks, and sometimes we watched television in the evenings. I didn’t like the programs he enjoyed, but it was nice to spend time together—companionable. I’m busy enough during the day, but once it gets dark, the house feels so empty,” Phoebe complained.
“It must be very difficult to lose your companion of so many years. My grandmother never got over my grandfather’s death. She always spoke of him as if he were about to return. To her, he was still there, in the room, in her heart. Her Joe was looking after her, and she smiled as she died, knowing she would see him again.”
“Do you think she did?” Phoebe asked.
“I’d like to think so, but the more logical part of my brain says that it’s not very likely.”
“I’d like to see Graham again, if only to give him a piece of my mind,” Phoebe said. “How could he leave me like that?”
Quinn saw the tears and wrapped her arm about the older woman. “He didn’t leave you, Phoebe, he was taken. He would have never left you. He adored you.”
Phoebe sniffed loudly. “Would have been nice if he said so from time to time.”
“He didn’t need to. It was right there for everyone to see.”
Phoebe nodded. “I know he did. I loved him too. I hadn’t realized how much until he was gone. You and Gabe, don’t ever take each other for granted. He adores you too, you know.” Phoebe looked squarely at Quinn. “Don’t ever hurt him, Quinn.”
The Unforgiven (Echoes from the Past Book 3) Page 35