“Is Lady Frampton very upset?” Dr. Heyworth asked.
“She’s up at the folly, taking her mind off it.”
“Ah, the folly.” He smiled. “It’s a very good thing that she’s bringing that lovely building back to life. I feel it’s symbolic of a new start for her.”
“She’s certainly busy. I haven’t seen anything of her. Really, I should be getting home, but now I’m stuck here on the sofa, unable to go anywhere.”
Dr. Heyworth’s attention was brought back to Rosamunde’s hip. “Is it still giving you pain?”
“Not so much, to be honest. It hurts a little when I walk, though, which I suppose is natural. I’m not as young as I once was. Things take longer to heal at our age, don’t they?”
“I’m afraid they do.”
His eyes were so gentle Rosamunde’s stomach gave a little flutter. She wondered whether he noticed that she wore her hair down. He hadn’t said anything. “I’d like to be helping my sister in the garden. She’s full of enthusiasm all of a sudden. I even heard her playing the piano last night.”
A smile spread across Dr. Heyworth’s face. “She was playing the piano?”
“Yes. She hasn’t played for years. It didn’t sound too good for the first half hour, but then she got it and the piece she played was utterly delightful. Sad, but delightful.” She bit off a piece of shortbread, pleased that William was taking such an interest in what she was saying. “I think she’s slowly realizing that there is life after George. Phaedra has given her a raison d’être, you know. I think she’s the daughter Antoinette never had but longed for—and now Margaret has gone and been underhanded. Really, that woman is the limit!”
“Is there nothing that can be done?”
“I very much doubt it. Margaret is extremely headstrong, as you well know.”
“I think I’ll go and see Lady Frampton after tea, just to make sure that she’s all right.”
“Really? All the way up to the folly?”
“It’s only a short walk. She took me there the other day.”
Rosamunde felt put out. She had rather hoped he would stay for another pot of tea. “I wonder whether I could come with you?”
“Do you feel up to it?”
She sighed, defeated. “Not really.”
“You must rest up, I’m afraid, and let nature get you well.”
“You will come tomorrow, won’t you? I’m so enjoying our teas. Antoinette is going to disappear into her garden, and I’ll have no one to talk to. I’m meant to be looking after her, and here I am, stuck, like a beached whale.”
“Not a whale, Rosamunde, surely,” said Dr. Heyworth politely.
Rosamunde’s heart recovered a little at the sight of the twinkle in his eyes. “Not a whale, then. But I do feel useless. Such a silly thing to fall down the stairs.”
“It could happen to any one of us. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I’m sure Lady Frampton enjoys having you here when she comes back in the evening. It’s a big house, and she must feel lonely on her own. Much better that you’re here keeping her company and preventing her from dwelling on her loss.”
“You’re so right, William. So I’m not overstaying my welcome?”
“I’m sure you’re not. Anyway, you must remain here recuperating for the rest of the week, at least.”
“And you’ll come and have tea—perhaps not as a doctor, I can’t pretend there’s much for you to do in that capacity—but as a friend.”
“Agreed.” His smile was broad, and Rosamunde was sure that she had taken their relationship one step further. His visits would no longer be on a professional basis but a social one. She brushed her hair off her shoulder. He still didn’t say anything. Maybe he felt it was too intimate to comment on a lady’s hair. She watched him leave then took the last biscuit. She’d have another pot of tea on her own.
* * *
Dr. Heyworth found Antoinette at the folly. She was up a ladder brushing moss off the roof. “Hello there!” she shouted down when she saw him approach.
“Hello, Lady Frampton. I thought I’d come and check on your progress.”
“I was hoping you might. There’s so much to do, I’m a little overwhelmed.”
“Are you on your own?”
“Yes, Barry’s gone back to the garden. I can’t expect him to stay up here all day when there’s so much to do down at the house. I’m perfectly happy up here, you know. It’s so beautiful, I lose myself.”
“I can see why.”
“The boys will help me this weekend.”
“If you ever need a spare pair of hands, I’d be very happy to help.”
Antoinette stopped her work for a moment. “Do you really mean that?”
“Of course. I spend weekends in my garden; I’d be happy to spend a weekend in someone else’s for a change.”
“You’re booked in, then. Wonderful.” Her voice rose in excitement. “We can get going on the inside. I have to take all the furniture out and give the floor and walls a good scrub. Then it needs painting . . .”
“If I may boast, I’m a rather good painter.” He grinned, and Antoinette laughed as he pulled a self-satisfied smile. His playfulness surprised her. He’d always been very formal.
“Well, I need a good painter, Dr. Heyworth.”
He frowned, watching her carefully come down the ladder. What he was about to ask her suddenly didn’t feel right, so he stopped himself. “I even have overalls,” he said instead.
“Very important. You don’t want to get paint over your nice clothes.”
“Exactly.”
“It’s a lovely little place, isn’t it?”
“It’s going to be even more lovely once you’ve finished with it.”
“And what then?”
“Then?” He shrugged. “We’ll have tea in it!”
21
David stepped into his mother’s house at seven to find her in a state of mounting anguish at the prospect of sending Phaedra off to spend the weekend with her mother-in-law. “It’s like sending a virgin in to be devoured by the Minotaur,” she said, pacing up and down the kitchen floor, glass of wine in hand. She was still in her boiler suit and cap, mud caked into her fingernails and smeared across one cheek.
“At least the whole family will be down to whisk her off,” Rosamunde added helpfully.
“Are they all coming?” David asked, brightening.
“It’s a full house,” said Antoinette. “As soon as word got out they all booked in to lend their support. Phaedra’s got a lot of fans in this family. George would be so happy.” She didn’t mention Roberta. She was sure Phaedra would win her over in the end.
“Can’t you all form up to Margaret and just tell her?” Rosamunde suggested.
“She won’t budge,” said David. “I subtly tried to suggest that Phaedra might be happier here with all of us—”
“That was your mistake.” Antoinette swung around. “You mustn’t ever be subtle with Margaret.”
“Too late now, Mum.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We’ll think of something,” said David. “In the meantime I have to break the news to Phaedra.”
“If she wasn’t so polite, I think she’d pull out,” said Antoinette.
“Might I remind you both that Phaedra seemed to like Margaret,” Rosamunde interjected. “I know you all think she’s the Wicked Witch of the West, but Phaedra, if I remember rightly, thought she was perfectly charming.”
David chuckled cynically. “She won’t by the end of the weekend!”
* * *
After having avoided Julius’s calls for a week, Phaedra finally spoke to him. “You’re very hard to get hold of,” he said resentfully. “Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy since I got back from Switzerland. I’ve been booked solid.”
“Well, that’s a good thing. Not that you need to work nowadays.”
“I work because I love it, Julius. A wom
an without an interest is a very dull one.”
“So how was it?”
“How was what?”
“Murenburg.”
“Oh, it was really magical.”
“Did you get closure as you hoped?”
“Oh yes. I feel I can now get on with the rest of my life.”
“Good. So how about dinner?”
She laughed at his persistence, but inside she felt a sense of claustrophobia, as if the walls were closing in around her, leaving her barely enough space to breathe. “I’m very tired.”
“Nonsense. I’ll take you somewhere cozy. We can eat early. How does eight o’clock sound?”
“You know, I’ve got so much work to do if I want to get this book finished.”
“Tomorrow, then?”
“Julius . . .”
His voice hardened. “Come on. I’ve moved heaven and earth for you. The least you can do is have dinner with me. I’m not Jack the Ripper!”
“Wednesday.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at eight.” Then he chuckled. “You and I are a great team, Phaedra.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Don’t go all coy on me now, darling. I’ll take you somewhere highly fashionable.”
“Anywhere will do.”
“I’ll get my secretary to book at Le Caprice. That’s usually a good place to people watch.”
“Great,” she said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. The walls were closing in further. “I must go, Julius.”
“See you Wednesday, darling.” She wondered why he had suddenly started calling her “darling.” She didn’t like it.
In a state of distress she flopped onto the sofa and wondered what she was going to do. If George were alive, none of this would be happening. Julius wouldn’t ever have asked her out on a date. He wouldn’t have dared. But now George was no longer there to protect her she felt exposed, like a fish in a glass bowl within reach of a very greedy cat; a cat to whom she owed a great deal.
She picked up her telephone and sent a text to David. Rufus, if you’re there, would you call me . . . I need to talk to a nice, friendly dog. Phaedra
* * *
David had just returned home from having dinner with his mother and aunt when his iPhone beeped with an incoming message. When he saw that it was Phaedra, his heart leapt. He switched on the lights and walked into the kitchen, then dialed her number. She answered after a single ring.
“Is that Rufus?” she asked.
“Woof!” said David.
She laughed. “Oh, it’s good to hear you.”
“Are you all right?”
She sighed. “Just some man who’s wearing me down.”
David’s blood froze. “Some man?” he croaked.
“He’s creeping me out.”
“Who is he?”
“Oh, he’s no one important. He just keeps asking me out.”
“Can’t you say no?”
“I owe him.”
“You owe him what?” David was alarmed. “Money?”
“No, not money. He’s been very good to me, that’s all. I feel it’s rude to turn him down. It’s only dinner.”
“Phaedra, you don’t have to go out with a man just because he’s been good to you. He’s probably been good to you just so that you’ll go out with him.”
Now it was Phaedra’s turn to feel alarmed. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She sighed and changed the subject.
“I’m looking forward to the weekend,” she said.
“Ah,” said David slowly. “We have a slight hitch.”
Phaedra’s heart sank. “I can’t come?”
“No, of course you can come. The trouble is, we’re all fighting over you and I’m afraid Grandma has won.”
Phaedra was so relieved that the invitation hadn’t been withdrawn, she would have thrown her arms around David if he hadn’t been at the other end of the line. “I’m delighted to be staying with Margaret.”
“You are?”
“Of course. I don’t mind. She’s very sweet.”
David nearly choked. “Sweet? You can’t really think she’s sweet.”
“Look, I’d rather be staying with you, but a weekend with your grandmother is not going to kill me. I’m very happy to be coming at all.”
“You can come whenever you like.”
“Then can I come on Thursday?” Fairfield was a safe haven to run to. She envisaged herself driving through those big gates and felt a stab of longing.
“Of course. Come and stay with me on Thursday and then I’ll take you to Grandma’s on Friday. She doesn’t even have to know about it.”
She let out a relieved breath. “That’s wonderful.” Then in a small voice she added. “I wish I could come now.”
“Any reason why you can’t?”
For a moment she almost weakened. It would be so easy to jump in the car and drive down to Fairfield. But inside, her head shouted caution, and for once she obeyed. “I have work commitments . . .” She changed the subject. “What’s Rufus doing?”
“Lying on his beanbag in the kitchen.”
“Where are you?”
“On a stool in the kitchen.”
“How’s the farm?”
“We need rain.”
“I’ll do a rain dance then.”
“Yes, please.”
She laughed. “Give that darling dog a big kiss from me.”
“I certainly will.” He wished she’d spare one for him.
“I’ll see you on Thursday, then.”
Sensing her unease, he added: “Listen, if you’re worried about anything, you must call me.”
“I will, thank you.”
“And don’t let this man take advantage of you.”
“I won’t.”
“Whatever happens, just say no.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I will,” she said firmly.
“I mean, what’s the worst he can do?”
Phaedra’s stomach churned with nausea. “I know, you’re right.” But when she put the telephone down she dropped her head into her hands; she knew very well the worst he could do.
The next couple of days dragged for Phaedra. She missed David and couldn’t wait for Thursday to come. She prayed for rain and was delighted when, in the middle of the night, she was awoken to loud drops against her windows. It made her smile to think of David’s farm getting a much-needed watering.
She went about her work, writing the editorial to go with the photographs. It wasn’t easy, as she was a far better photographer than she was writer, and the words didn’t come naturally. Besides, she wasn’t able to give it her full attention. Going through the photographs reminded her of George. He had been with her during the taking of so many of them. Those pictures inspired memories, which in turn aroused emotions from sorrow to regret to finally fear, as every thought led back to Julius Beecher.
She missed the countryside. The weather was now very warm. Blossoms had given way to thick green leaves, and the parks were ablaze with flowers. Once the traffic and bustle of the city had made her feel part of something; now it made her feel isolated and adrift. She longed to return to Fairfield, where it was quiet and lush—and she longed for David.
Wednesday arrived, and she keenly packed her weekend bag for the following day. Inside she was a tangle of nerves, excited to be leaving, yet anxious about her impending date with Julius. He was like an obstacle she had to overcome before she could flee to the safety of Fairfield.
That evening he appeared at her door at eight o’clock on the dot. She hadn’t bothered to dress up, frightened that she’d give him the wrong impression were she to wear a dress again. Instead, she wore white jeans and a floral shirt, her hair up and barely any makeup. Julius was very pleased to see her. He had dressed up in a smart black jacket, crisp white shirt, and crimson Hermès tie. His shoes were so shiny she could practically see the reflection of the street in the toes. He smelled strongly of cologne.
He kissed her, leaving a whiff of perfume on her cheek, and opened the car door. With a heavy sigh she climbed in, wishing the night were over and she was climbing out instead. He drove her to Piccadilly and parked the car in Arlington Street. Le Caprice was full of fashionable people as Julius had promised, but Phaedra didn’t bother to look around and chose the chair with its back to the room so Julius could sit in the corner and smile at those he knew.
To her surprise, he didn’t bully her, nor did he try to force his friendship upon her. Instead, he entertained her with amusing stories about George, and she loosened up and began to enjoy herself. She felt foolish that she had allowed herself to panic over nothing.
At a table at the other end of the room Roberta had watched them walk in. Immediately fascinated, she ignored the anecdote her husband was telling the rest of the table and narrowed her eyes to take in every detail. So, she thought with satisfaction, Phaedra and Julius were a couple after all. Her suspicions had been right. Then, just to confirm her hypothesis, Julius tenderly touched Phaedra’s hand. Roberta was triumphant. She didn’t need further proof, but the very fact that Phaedra had come in a pair of jeans without having done her hair or makeup suggested that they had been a couple for a very long time. They were at ease in each other’s company. Goodness knows what they were plotting. When the waiter brought them two glasses of champagne, Roberta’s heart hardened with loathing. Were they perhaps celebrating the success of their scam? Well, their party was a little premature, she thought resentfully. They might have managed to deceive the rest of her family, but they hadn’t deceived her. She’d expose Phaedra for the liar she was if it was the last thing she did.
After dinner Julius drove Phaedra home. He didn’t ask to accompany her inside, and he didn’t request another date. He simply kissed her innocently on the cheek, made sure she got into the house safely, then returned to his car. She asked herself, as she tossed her handbag onto the kitchen table, whether her fears were born out of a guilty conscience. Julius was right, she owed him her friendship; it cost her nothing to give it.
* * *
“We need to conduct another DNA test,” Roberta insisted to Joshua as they changed for bed.
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