Sylvia too looked less déshabillé than usual. Alistair was struck by the contrast again between her family and that of Fancy. The Clevedons were a unit. The girls had taken up seats on either side of their father and were talking eagerly to him, patting his hands and teasing him about something. The look of gentle pride on his Geoffrey’s face was delightful.
Fancy, by contrast, had taken her usual armchair closest to the fire and was sipping her brandy and soda with a discontented expression on her face. Jamie’s attempt to make conversation had been rebuffed coldly, and he and Damaris had taken themselves to the other side of the room and were talking to Jean Saxby by the French windows.
William was here too, talking to Juliana and illustrating his story with wide sweeps of his arms that threatened the safety of anyone around. Of their friends, only the Cundys were absent—it was the elder boys’ last night at home and they were spending it together en famille.
Mags brought him another cocktail and sat down to drink her own with him.
“I passed the railway station earlier,” Alistair said. “Is it a well-used line?”
“Not for local trips. The trouble is that it is miles away, so if anyone from Sancreed is going somewhere locally, they use the bus. We really only use the train if we are going further afield. Actually, most people don’t go much further than Mawnaccan or Penzance at any time.”
“Does the line run along the cliffs? I couldn’t see it from the road,” he asked.
“Just for a bit, but the view is lovely,” she enthused. “It skirts the moor top, then it comes up at the back of the estate cottages. Bit of a bend there, so it slows right down—Gerry Roskelly jumps on and off there usually. He lives in one of the cottages. His father is one of the fishermen—owns the Merlin—and his uncles have boats too. But Gerry never wanted to go to sea. He’s like me—obsessed with engines since birth. Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious. Actually,” he admitted, “I like trains too.”
Helena caught the last sentence as she moved regally around the room, and smiled at him in a maternal way. He found himself comparing the two sisters again and being surprised anew. He knew how different families could be—he was one of four himself, and none of them were remotely similar—but he felt that Helena and Margaret really took the biscuit.
They finished their drinks, partook of a good dinner with some excellent wine and general conversation, and then moved back to the drawing room, where Mags organised the rolling back of the rugs for dancing. Helena sat with Damaris and Alistair by the fire, and they lazed in the warmth, watching as Jamie and Mags brought out the gramophone and started to look at recordings.
“I need to write some letters tomorrow, but I cut myself earlier,” Helena said, displaying a neat dressing on the palm of her right hand that Alistair had not noticed before. “Would it be too awful if I used the typewriter instead, do you think?”
“Jamie’ll do them for you. He can do anyone’s handwriting,” said Damaris with some pride in the look she cast at her brother.
Jamie had left Mags to wind up the gramophone and had joined them by the settee. Damaris grinned at her brother.
“I used to increase my meagre allowance by doing other boys’ homework for them,” he said, returning the grin.
Adrien overheard this. He took out a record from the pile and looked it over carefully, blowing off some dust.
“We had a chap like that at Overton House, remember, Alistair?” he said, fitting the record onto the gramophone. “Edward Mumford. Useless at sports, but good at lessons and an excellent forger to boot. I wonder what happened to him.”
“In prison, I expect,” replied Alistair with a smirk. “I never trusted him completely. He had a shifty eye when it came to collecting subs.”
As the music started, Adrien left the subject of Edward Mumford, leading his wife over to begin dancing. Alistair took a quick look around the room. It was a pleasant place to be. At one end of the room, there was a wide fireplace, in which burned an enormous log. The golden flames wrapped around it with a nimbus of hazy blue, scenting the air lightly with applewood. At the far end of the room was a porcelain stove of the kind so often seen in European homes. Someone had thought out the design of the room carefully. The stove was set into a kind of tiled alcove and ensured that this end of the room was as warm and comfortable as the other.
Given Geoffrey’s history of illness, he suspected that this careful allocation of comfort had been thought out for his benefit. The entire ground floor was easily navigated by a wheeled chair, and he had seen one such tucked away in the square hallway through which they had entered the house, although their host tonight was perambulant, moving slowly but unwaveringly between his guests. Alistair noticed that his wife and both of his daughters were very aware of him as they entertained, but they kept their distance and allowed him to enjoy himself. Such a respectful esprit de corps was something not often found, especially with an invalid at the centre.
“You are in a brown study tonight, Mr Carr,” said Helena, stopping in front of him with an air of interest on her lovely face. “Are you feeling quite all right? Can I get you anything? Another whisky, perhaps?”
Alistair looked down to find his glass empty, and everyone else waltzing on the parquet. William had invited Fancy to dance, and Jean was waltzing with Margaret. Even Geoffrey was dancing, slowly twirling his wife around the outside edge of the square, the two of them laughing at each other. Helena followed his gaze and her eyes softened. For a moment the capable woman vanished, and an emotional girl looked out.
“These are the times that I live for, Mr Carr,” she said suddenly, for once her voice thick with emotion. Alistair looked at her, surprised.
“It is important to fully appreciate them, Helena,” he said, and she turned her smile upon him, content that he understood.
They sat down together near the porcelain stove, having refilled their glasses.
“I love them all dearly,” she replied frankly, and took a swig of her drink that would have left a lesser woman coughing. “However much I enjoy being independent, having work to do that fills my time, I never tire of coming home. Daddy seems so well tonight… it can be hard to understand, Alistair, how quickly he can go from healthy to sick. It terrifies me.”
“I know. I was out there myself. I know what they went through. And what they go through still. It isn’t forgotten, Helena, I promise you.”
She gave him a smile that on another woman would have sent him dizzy with desire, and patted his arm. Why did he then feel like a lurcher who had been rewarded with a biscuit?
“You know, sometimes I think I should move home, just to be here, just in case. Is that stupid?”
“It’s understandable,” he replied. “Your father suffered a great deal. I can understand your concern over his health. Helena, I can look around the house and see even in the inanimate things how much you and your mother and Margaret care for him.”
Her eyes gleamed at his praise, but she said nothing further.
“I think your father would want you to continue with your life,” he finished. “Just from what I know of the men who came home—very few of them want life to stop and revolve around them. Most simply want life to continue as if they were not taken out of it.”
There was a pause as they watched the dancers stop at the finish of the record and begin to argue over what came next.
“Damaris told me that you were asking her earlier about what she remembered of the time when Juliana vanished.”
She looked over at him. Her eyes were not green like her sister’s, but a pale turquoise colour that contrasted rather nicely with the ash gold of her hair. She looked keen.
“I’m happy to tell you what I remember. You have to find out what happened, Alistair. It can’t be allowed to taint our life here. And whatever you find, however bad it is, it won’t be worse than not knowing.”
He nodded. “I think you are correct. Pandora’s Box and all that,” he sai
d.
She gave a smile and patted his arm again. “Exactly. No shutting the box again, but there remains Hope.”
She took another sip at her glass.
“It was such a shock. Juliana vanishing like that. Up til then we were all having a lovely time. We went for rambles and picnics, ate ice creams by the harbour. We were going to clear out the White Lotus. We had loads of plans.”
Alistair listened.
“It was a horrid day,” she continued. “Overcast, and unseasonably warm, although the barometer was dropping. Perhaps that’s what set everything off. Everyone was in a foul mood. Mags and I argued over the last boiled egg at breakfast, for goodness sake. Afterwards, I took the car into Penzance. Mummy has a little Austin that I am allowed to borrow. It’s kept in the garage just off the drive.”
Alistair nodded, having parked his own car in it earlier. It was a large building, long and low, and had space to spare.
“Just as I was leaving, Mags came running out and asked me to pick something up at the garage, spark plugs or something like that. I was already in the car so I didn’t bother to write it down.”
She looked vexed at this admission.
“I did my shopping and lunched with a friend. On the way back I saw Simon. He looked awful. Completely exhausted, thin as a rake. I ordered him into the car. He wasn’t going to obey me, he’s always been stubborn as a donkey, so I bundled him in under protest, tucked him up, and drove him back.”
“No one else has mentioned seeing Simon,” Alistair said. “But you definitely saw him?”
“I said so, didn’t I? He was in my car!” replied Helena, looking at him as if he couldn’t remember his ABCs. “I dropped him at Visick House.”
She looked aghast suddenly as she realised why he had asked.
“You don’t suspect Simon?” she asked. “Why would he want to hurt Juliana?”
“Why would anyone, Helena? Simon has to be treated the same was as everyone else who was here. That’s all.”
Helena opened her mouth to argue, but Alistair held up a hand.
“Please go on, Helena. It is important, I promise.”
“Mmmpsh,” she said, glaring at him. Finally she gave in. “Very well, where was I?”
“You left Simon outside Visick House. At what time? Did anyone else see him arrive?”
“Around half past three. And I shouldn’t think anyone else saw him. I left him at the side gate and he scuttled through and disappeared down the path. I meant to let Daphne know, but I had some fresh prawns to deliver home and I didn’t want them to spoil.”
Her eyes grew soft as she thought back.
“Strange what you start to remember, even after all this time. The air was turning cold and it felt like thunder. I handed out the things I had picked up, then realized that I had forgotten to get Mags’ things from the garage. She was furious, accused me of doing it deliberately, and we had the most enormous row. Eventually Daddy called us up and read the Riot Act from his bed. Daddy may not look it, but he’s absolutely terrifying when he’s cross. And it’s not good for him, so we try very hard not to anger him.”
He liked Helena all the more for her saying that they tried to keep him happy for his health.
“When did you hear about Juliana?” he asked.
“Didi raced in here when we were at breakfast and told us Juliana was missing.”
“How did she seem? Damaris, I mean.”
“White as a sheet, shaking with fright. I thought she might be sick on the carpet, to be honest.” She grimaced, her lovely mouth twisted. “Beastly day.”
Alistair changed tack. “How were relations between Adrien and Juliana leading up to her disappearance?”
Helena looked at him coldly, and despite himself, he quailed. It was like facing down Hera after declaring Aphrodite the more beautiful.
“I hope you are not now suggesting that Adrien had anything to do with it?” she began icily.
“I simply need to know what everyone remembers. You may all remember one tiny thing that no one else does. For instance, you remember not just that Simon was here, but that you drove him right to Visick House that afternoon. No one else could be sure that he was here. In his turn, Simon may remember something else.”
She did not look overly reassured, uncertainty writ clear on her face, but finally relented.
“Frankly, things were uneasy between Adrien and Juliana. At the beginning, everything seemed wonderful. They were so completely in love. Then in the autumn something changed. I don’t know for certain, but it may have been to do with Belinda.”
“That would be Belinda Mayfield?”
Helena nodded.
“And you think that Belinda Mayfield may have been a cause of the upset between Adrien and his wife?”
“There were rumours,” she said, flushing. “I know he met up with her a few times. Nothing in it, of course. Lunches at the Queen, for example. Now, if you are going to conduct underhand business around here, you do not do it in the dining room at the Queen. You might as well take out an ad in The Times. Personally, I think he was embarrassed at chucking her over, and trying to make up. Still be chums. That is the way Belinda would want it. And Adrien, bless him, wouldn’t think about the gossips at all.”
With an attempt at a smile, Helena finished her drink.
“Belinda was perfectly charming when she met Juliana. At the Hunt Ball, I think it was. But I do know that Adrien felt that he had behaved badly. He probably took her for lunch to try to explain; he’s the sort that broods over things like that. But lunch was enough. Little stories started to circulate, and I know Juliana heard some of them.”
Her lovely mouth compressed itself into an ugly line.
“Aunt Fancy made sure of that.”
Chapter 20
When Helena had finished her recital, they were joined by Jamie, who wandered over and gave a deep bow from the waist, clicking his heels together in military fashion.
“Do me the honour, Helena?” he asked.
“Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully, her brow furrowed.
Alistair wondered at her uncertainty, the first he had seen in her. And over something as simple as a dance.
“Don’t be daft,” Jamie said, straightening up and holding out his arm. He gestured to his shoes. “I’m wearing steel toe-capped boots tonight for the very purpose.”
Helena got to her feet before looking down at Alistair, who could not keep the curiosity from his face. She flushed, and then shrugged.
“I’m completely tone-deaf,” she explained, embarrassed. “The only reason I can tell ‘God Save the King’ from ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ is that everyone stands up for the King. If you stand next to me at church, you will notice that I am very good at moving my lips without producing a single sound.”
“Well, everyone has their Achilles heel, and yours is music, darling. Never mind, you need to practice,” said Jamie, trying not to laugh at her. “However will you find a husband if you can’t dance?”
Laughing, Helena took his hand and they began, very gingerly, to waltz together; Jamie encouraging, Helena moving with him, but uncomfortable still. Alistair saw that her father was alone now, sitting close by, and he moved over to where Geoffrey was.
“Thank you for the invitation this evening,” said Alistair. “I have enjoyed myself hugely.”
Geoffrey looked pleased.
“Good,” he replied. “I’m glad you could come. I wanted a chance to talk to you, Mr Carr.”
He lowered his voice.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the reason you are here. Juliana was—and is—very dear to us. I am keen to help out with your investigation. I know that I am unable to get about much, but on the other hand this leaves me a great deal of time for thinking. I wondered if you would drop in sometime. I might be able to help you with some of your questions.”
“I should like that very much, and frankly, the sooner the better. William suggested that you were the man to talk to.”<
br />
Geoffrey smiled at this. “Well, let us not waste any more time. Come down tomorrow after breakfast. You can ask all your questions, and I will do my best to help.”
With these preliminary plans in hand for the next day, Alistair made the most of the evening and managed quick conversations with both Margaret and then her mother. Neither could provide any further information about Juliana’s disappearance that he hadn’t already uncovered, but their viewpoints were interesting to him.
“I was still at school, Alistair,” said Margaret. “More interested in lacrosse and winning the house shield than anything else, I’m afraid. I do remember Juliana seeming pale and run-down when I got back for the holidays.”
Her memories of the actual day of Juliana’s fall coincided almost exactly with Helena’s, and she had nothing else to add except that she had glimpsed Simon Cundy herself sometime that weekend.
“But for the life of me I can’t remember when, Alistair. I’m sorry. It was in the evening, I know, but I don’t know which day.”
Alistair had not had reason to doubt Helena’s assertion than Simon had been in the town, but he was glad to have confirmation. Sylvia added her own.
“I saw Simon on the Sunday, in the afternoon. He looked dreadful, so I brought him into the garden and I gave him some tea and cake. I imagined he’d been helping with the search. He was awfully worried about it all. It was strange, as I didn’t think he knew Juliana well.”
So Simon had been around the next day too, and in some agitation. Alistair asked some more questions, but Sylvia was not much use. He realised that although she was a clever woman, her interest and her energies lay in very narrow channels. Her family and her pets and her garden held sway in her heart, and outwith those subjects, she was curiously unmoved. He suspected that Geoffrey’s illness had been a cause; such care as he had needed would make outside interests difficult to maintain. On the subject of Adrien and Juliana, she had been non-committal, and he remembered that her daughter had been in love with Adrien herself.
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