Will pulled his phone out of his pocket and immediately photographed what he saw on the soft flesh of Gifford’s arm. Four long scratches, stretching almost to his elbow, red as though they were fresh.
“Does that hurt?” asked Will, concern growing in his voice. He had seen this before in photographic evidence but never in the flesh, literally.
Gifford shook his head and pulled down his sleeve hurriedly, as if he was ashamed. “We might feel a slight sting but that’s all. No one knows where they come from, no one finds them until after they’ve appeared – on the ankles, the base of the back, the wrists, the arms like me.”
Will looked at Gabriel, his face grave. “That looks demonic to me. Gabriel – what do you think?”
He was surprised to see that Gabriel’s expression was unconvinced.
“Have you shown these to anyone outside the castle, Gifford?” Gabriel asked.
“Only to my father,” replied the butler. “He’s mostly bedridden – he’s the reason I came back to Dubhglas, actually. He lived in the village all of his life, the local greengrocer – he delivered fruit and vegetables to the castle – he’s known it well. When he got too sick to live alone I packed my bags and came back. I showed him the first of the scratches when they appeared and he said the strangest thing. ‘That’ll be a tiger,’ he said, and he told me to get some cream on it before it went septic. I tried to get him to explain what he meant but he said ‘Better not to talk about these things’ and would say no more. He rambles, however, muddles the past with the present and so on . . .”
There was silence for a moment as Gifford looked from Gabriel to Will and back again.
“There’s one more thing that you should probably know, Mr McKenzie. Something else that I’ve seen . . .” He paused nervously.
Gabriel stiffened again in his seat.
“Only it’s something . . .” continued Gifford quietly, “something that none of the other staff have seen. And I haven’t told any of them about it. But he was there, in the hallway. I saw him by the front door. Dripping wet, one shoe missing from his foot.”
Gifford looked again at Gabriel, seeing if he understood.
Gabriel didn’t for a moment, a chill suddenly piercing his heart that was far colder than this grim room smelling of age and peat fires when he did.
“It was your brother,” said Gifford softly again, looking Gabriel right in the eye. “Out there, in the hallway. I saw a boy, a dripping wet boy with one shoe. I never saw him alive but somehow, I just . . . knew who it was. I saw your brother, Mr McKenzie. I saw Laurence.”
CHAPTER 26
November 30th
Standing in the hallway, Martha eyed her reflection in the mirror over the hall table. She didn’t look too bad, she thought, taking in the expensive full-length coat she wore over a knitted black dress. Her make-up was carefully applied over her pretty features and the copper highlights in her short bobbed hair caught the light and shone.
Smoothing down the coat, she tutted as she felt the tickle of a stray thread from her sleeve. She contemplated tugging at it but resisted the urge. With quick steps, she hurried into the living room and across to the pottery bowl on the mantel where she kept a small nail scissors, snipped the thread, and shook it from her finger into the open grate.
She looked up as she heard the car outside crunch over the gravel and gave herself a final once-over before the taxi-driver beeped his horn. She hurried out of the front door, locking it carefully behind her. Dan had texted her the address of the solicitors which was somewhere near Canonmills. It was near enough, she knew, but in an area with which she was unfamiliar. And it was stressful enough meeting Dan without the added hassle of finding the place, and she was notoriously unlucky with parking, so a cab it was.
Will’s advice to play it safe rang in her ears as she stepped into the cab and called up the text message that Dan had sent with the address, showing it to the driver who knew immediately where he was going. Martha sat back in the cab and relaxed, taking in the fresh winter’s day as she made the short trip.
She couldn’t help but stare around her at the beauty of the grey, stone crescent of buildings as she stepped out of the car. She was in plenty of time, she knew, and was contemplating strolling a little further along the road to see what lay around the next corner when she spotted Dan, waving at her as he walked hurriedly out the front gate of one of the houses.
“Hallo!” he shouted in his friendliest way and Martha raised her hand in quiet acknowledgement. He was out of breath as he reached her on the pavement.
“Hi,” he offered in his smoothest voice.
Martha recognised the voice. Herself and Sue had a name for all of his tones and personae. This one was called ‘Reserved for lady clients’. In a way it was vaguely flattering that he was using it on her. Toward the end of their marriage he had barely been able to bring himself to grunt a ‘hello’.
“Hi,” she managed back. “Have you been in already?” She nodded toward the building through whose gate which Dan had emerged.
“Yes, I have . . . wow, you look absolutely fantastic . . . if you don’t mind me saying so . . .” Dan’s voice trailed off as he looked appreciatively at his ex-wife.
And again, thought Martha. This time the Hugh-Grant charm-offensive manoeuvre. He’s really pulling out all the stops.
“Thank you,” she said brusquely. “So, shall we go in?”
Dan gestured with his hand to show he was gathering his thoughts. “Em . . . actually . . . are you okay for time? It’s just that it seems we’ve got a wait on our hands.” He stretched his lips in an ‘isn’t this awkward?’ way and Martha sighed.
“Do you know how long?” she asked. “Only I absolutely have to pick up Ruby at five today. There’s absolutely no one else that can do it – Will’s gone to Dubhglas ahead of me – and I’ve mucked the childminder around enough already – she was supposed to have the day off today.”
“No probs at all,” stated Dan flatly, making a point of crossing his hands in a gesture that emphatically said ‘No way!’ “I’ve been chatting to the receptionist and she says that the most we’ll be waiting is half an hour, forty-five minutes tops. Mr Neil – that’s our guy – has got a couple in with him apparently . . .” He curled his nose up and nodded back at the building. “Divorce,” he whispered loudly.
Martha couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it. “Lucky we were never like that then, eh?” she replied, surprising herself with the ease with which she referred to those horrible days. They hadn’t communicated directly, of course. She did it all through her solicitor. Clean, quick and painless. Well, less painful than everything that had led to the divorce in the first instance.
Dan took his cue and smiled back at her, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. “Something like that,” he said and a moment’s silence followed. “The receptionist said that there’s a little greasy spoon round here somewhere where we could get some coffee . . . if you like?”
He pointed down the street behind Martha and she nodded, glancing at her watch and then falling into step beside him. It was a movement at once familiar and surreal to her – walking along beside a man she had sworn to love forever, as she had done so many times over the years they’d been together. She felt odd, as though she were outside her own body. She, of course, hadn’t broken the promise to love him forever. She stole a glance sidelong and upward to take in his face and was struck again by just how familiar those features were. Still, she thought, it wasn’t that hard to fall out of love with someone who has taken you for a complete and utter fool.
She stayed silent while they entered the cafe and took a seat in a booth near the window where she looked out at the quiet street while Dan went to the counter.
She caught a whiff of his familiar aftershave – Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue – as he deposited a mug each on the table. Once sitting, he rummaged in the pocket of his duffel coat and deposited sachets of sugar and stirrers on the table. Martha took one and shook it i
nto her drink, stirring it carefully and looking back out the window as she took a sip. She felt edgy as she struggled to think of something to say, and then wondered why she should bother saying anything at all. Yet Dan was being so nice. She wasn’t comfortable. She just wanted to get this over and done with. And more than that, she burned to figure out his agenda.
“Mr Neil should have some photographs to show us,” began Dan, catching Martha mid-thought. She didn’t understand what he meant for a second and looked at him blankly. “Photographs of what?” she said and then it dawned on her. “Oh, you mean of this land in Cornwall?”
Dan nodded. “Beautiful part of the world, Padstow. Have you been?”
Martha nodded. “Will’s parents live in Cornwall. Near Mevagissey actually. I’ve been a few times.”
Dan smiled. “Must be serious then. Meeting the in-laws.”
Martha scowled at him, forcing him to change tack.
“Will’s a really nice guy actually,” he observed lightly. “So good of him to let me in like that the other night – a complete stranger at the door.”
“What’s the catch to this property?” Martha said suddenly, desperate to change the subject.
“Is it zoned for a big car park, or is there a new road going to run through it or something? Is it swamp? On the side of a hill? There must be a catch.”
Dan shook his head and took another sip of his coffee. “No catch that I know of,” he shrugged. “Little Ruby’s going to strike it lucky when she turns eighteen, I’d imagine.”
There was a pause for a few moments and they drank their coffee in silence. After a while, Dan made to speak, hesitated, and then tried again. He looked as if he was having difficult forming the words.
“Martha . . . what’s she like?” he said. “Ruby? I’d love to know what she’s like . . . I don’t know a thing . . .”
Because you walked out on her to go live with your mistress, thought Martha sternly as she stared at him, surprised by the question and even more surprised by the genuine look of interest in his eyes. “I cocked up so much,” he said quietly. “I don’t deserve to know, but can you bear to tell me anything about her at all?”
It wasn’t so much the humility he expressed as the sincerity with which he asked the question that made Martha start, slowly, to describe her precious little girl. “She’s beautiful,” she began hesitantly. “Well, you’ve seen that for yourself. She’s good – really good, and very very clever – above average for her age . . .”
A broad smile spread over Dan’s features, one that verged on pride. He looks like he actually means that, thought Martha, pausing for a moment to take another sip of her coffee.
“What does she like?” he asked eagerly. “Does she have a favourite toy, or a game or something?”
“Em, there’s Hugo, her bear,” began Martha and, as she continued, driven by the desire to somehow show him what he’d missed out on, she was encouraged by his responses. He smiled, he laughed, he made all the right noises. By the time that they realised they should get back to the solicitor’s office she had begun to believe that he actually cared about what he was hearing. And what was more, she had begun to enjoy telling him.
Dan was right in his assumption that Mr Neil would have photographs. And that it was a beautiful part of the world – he knew it well as it happened and he was keen to chat at length with Martha, sharing knowledge of the area. In the end it was close to four o’clock when they emerged into the dark of the evening, another hard frost already beginning to sparkle on the ground and the sky filling with stars above the regal buildings around them. As they passed through reception on their way out, they noted an angry-looking couple in their mid-fifties seated on opposite sides of the waiting area, both drinking water from paper cups, the man accompanied by a bored-looking woman with make-up that had seen better hours and her red jacket crumpled above her black pencil skirt, a pile of papers and files perched on her lap. Dan and Martha heard the receptionist’s side of the short exchange that took place as she answered an internal call.
As Dan held the front door open for Martha, they heard her say, “Mr Neil will see you again now.” Dan caught Martha’s eyes and widened his own, jokingly placing his hands to his neck and pretending to throttle himself.
Martha giggled quietly and dared to glance behind. “Mr Neil must have felt the need of a break before embarking on their case again – they look like they’re about to murder each other,” she whispered.
Dan smiled in return. “There’s a lot to be said for how we did it,” he said and then winced as though wishing he could take it back. His cheeks burned red in the light from the doorway and Martha grinned again as they made their way down the path back out onto the street.
She stopped to rummage in her handbag as she felt it vibrate slightly and pulled out her phone which blinked on and off to indicate an incoming call.
“How goes the day?” Martha heard Sue say brightly on the other end of the line. She glanced at Dan, pointing to the phone to indicate that she needed to take it.
He nodded graciously and hung back to let her walk on a little way to speak in private.
“Whereabouts are you?” Martha asked, guessing that some sort of moving vehicle was the answer but with Sue, that could be anything from a limo to a tank.
“Surprise, surprise! Just about arriving at your house actually,” came the reply. “My interviewee this afternoon cancelled in time for me to reschedule my flight up so I threw my spotted hanky over my shoulder and thought I’d go see my old mate, Martha. What about you, still with Brideshead?”
Martha glanced back and took another few steps further from Dan. “Affirmative,” she said in a low voice. “We were delayed thanks to the War of the Roses – tell you later.”
“How’s it going?” quizzed Sue in an equally low voice.
“Compliqué,” replied Martha. “Lots to fill you in on. All being on our best behaviour.”
“Which character are we wearing?” asked Sue.
Martha could hear the smile in her voice. “Four Weddings,” she replied, smiling herself.
“Really?” Sue’s tone was shocked. “Better than Sleeping with the Enemy, I guess.”
“Lots,” laughed Martha aloud.
“Anyway, I’ve picked up some duty-free Limoncello for a change, because I know that you want an early night. Anything else I can pick up on the way?”
Martha glanced at her watch again. “Rubes actually. Would you mind? I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me to get a cab and I’m sure there will be traffic. You pass by the childminder’s door on the way. She’ll be able to lend you a car seat. You do remember her house?”
“Do I ever forget where I’ve been before?” Sue replied, indignant.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all. Myself and Ruby Doo could do with a little bonding time,” Sue reassured her. “I’ve learned some new Polish swear words this week that I think might be of interest to her.”
Martha ignored her. “And you know where the spare key is?”
“Sure do. Leave it with Auntie Sue. I’ll have a curry menu and a nice glass of the finest yellow drink known to mankind waiting for you. It’s one of your five a day, you know, lemons . . .”
Martha laughed. “I think I’ll pass,” she grinned. “Look, I’ll see you in a bit – thanks a mill.”
“Salute,” came the faint response as Sue ended the call in her usual fashion, by growing bored and removing the phone from her ear before she said farewell.
Martha returned her own phone to her bag with a grin and turned to see where Dan had got to. He was standing only a few feet behind her.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” he said, “but I couldn’t help but hear the last bit . . . am I right in thinking that there’s someone else to pick Ruby up now?”
Martha nodded and eyed him suspiciously.
“Oh good. That’s a nice surprise . . . I mean, you don’t think that you’d be able to take a
little more time out and, I dunno, grab a bite maybe?”
Martha looked alarmed, looked again at her watch, opened her mouth to decline the invitation but was interrupted.
“Only there’s another couple of other things that I need to discuss with you and this might be a good time to do it. All that unpaid maintenance business – I’m really and truly sorry about that so I’d like to take the opportunity to buy you a meal and talk. What do you say?”
Martha hesitated. She felt unsettled. Just wanted to get home – to get away from him and his niceness. To get away from how easy she had found it to talk to him earlier, pouring her heart out about Ruby. Then again, Will had said to play the game by Dan’s rules. Keep him close so he couldn’t make any sudden moves. And now he had more to discuss with her, including the unpaid money? What now? Had he won the lottery? Bought out the company?
“Look, let me just text Sue and see if she’s okay for a couple of hours without me,” she said tentatively.
“Great!” replied Dan, enthusiastically. “We’ll walk toward town, shall we? See what comes up along the way.”
He held out his arm to indicate the direction that they should take and Martha fell into step, taking yet another look at his expression and feeling surprise that she could see nothing there but sincerity. She began to text as she walked. A couple of hours, max, she decided. They had a long drive ahead tomorrow so then home to bed.
Dinner with Dan. Something that she hadn’t done in years. A plate of something, see what he had to say and get the maintenance discussion over with. Where was the harm in that?
CHAPTER 27
Dan and Martha stumbled upon the tapas bar almost by accident. It was called Gaudi’s and its enticing red-painted woodwork and the soft glow of lamps from the window lured them in off the freezing street. A few dishes, Martha thought, and then home to Sue and Ruby. She was feeling tired and the cold was hard to kick.
The Dark Water Page 22