by Amy M. Reade
“Seamus, you have to see the castle. You’ll love it. Annabel bought some fabulous pieces of art during her lifetime and they’re displayed throughout the castle. Some of her things are still in storage rooms. I’ll take you through the castle tomorrow and you can spend all the time you like looking around.”
“Sounds cracking,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Now, how about a snack?”
Since I had already eaten, I left the couple to their meal and I returned to the castle, where I was not surprised to find Rhisiart leafing rapidly through a book in the sitting room when I poked my head in there.
“Anything I can help you find, Rhisiart?” I asked, knowing perfectly well he was looking for Annabel’s alleged hidden will. He hadn’t realized I was standing in the doorway. He whirled around, a startled look on his face, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“No, no. I’m just trying to decide what to read,” he explained hastily, his eyes darting to and fro along the bookshelves. He was probably contemplating how long it would take him to leaf through every book on the shelf for something I knew didn’t exist. The idea of it was delightfully sneaky.
“Well, good luck. If you need any recommendations, let me know. I’ve read a lot of them,” I said. I gave him a little wave and left the room, laughing to myself.
I returned to my room and slept well that night for the first time in a long while. It wasn’t just the good feeling I had from having hoodwinked Rhisiart and the others; it was a combination of the long walk through the woods, the fun I had with Sylvie in the snow, and the excitement over seeing Seamus again after two years away from Cauld Loch. Griff didn’t even cross my mind that night.
He was front and center the next morning when I awoke, though, along with a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. I missed seeing him and talking with him and I worried what would happen when we crossed paths again, as we inevitably would. After I obtained permission from Hugh, I spent some time in the sitting room going through bills and making arrangements to pay them. I was using the estate’s money to pay bills now, so all the checks had to be approved and signed by Hugh, Rhisiart, and Sian.
I took a break from paying and filing bills to visit Maisie in the kitchen. She was still taking inventory of everything and she was glad for an excuse to take a break, too. She made tea for us while I found some biscuits in a cupboard and arranged them on a plate. “Where’s Brenda?” I asked. “We should ask her to join us.”
Maisie flashed me a look that was a combination of pain and anger. “I don’t know where the lass is,” she said in a flat voice. “She didn’t come home last night and she didn’t come in to work this morning.”
“Have you tried phoning her?”
“Aye. Her phone goes right to voicemail.”
“You don’t seem too worried. Do you have an idea of where she is?”
“I suspect she’s stayed overnight with one of her ‘friends,’” Maisie said, using air quotes.
“Do you think she’s all right?”
“I hope so,” Maisie said with a sigh into her teacup. “I don’t know what to do about her. I hoped she would stop taking the drugs when Andreas died, but I don’t think she has. I have tried everything I can think of to get her clean, but she ignores me.” Maisie’s voice broke. “She’s destroying herself and she can’t see beyond the end of her nose. It’s so hard to watch your kids make mistakes like that. Big mistakes.”
I laid my hand on Maisie’s shoulder. “Maybe Brenda is trying in her own way,” I said. “Maybe she just has to figure it out for herself, without anyone’s help. That might explain why she’s not here yet.”
Maisie sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I hope you’re right. Could you let me know if you see her come in?”
I nodded and gave Maisie a hug. “Hang in there,” I told her. “I think everything’s going to be all right for Brenda. She probably just needs some time.”
And as if to prove my words, Brenda appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Are you cryin’, Mum?” she asked, her eyes wide. Maisie turned away and busied herself at the sink, rinsing our tea things.
“I’m all right,” she said. “Where have you been all morning? And where were you last night?”
Brenda glanced at me, her eyes silently pleading with me to remain silent. “I stayed at a friend’s house last night. We had a nip of the hard stuff, you know?” she said with a nervous laugh. “You always said I shouldn’t drive home if I’ve been drinking.”
Maisie turned around. “I’m glad about that. But why didn’t you answer your phone?”
Brenda fished around in her handbag and looked at her phone. “Dead battery. I’m sorry if I worried you, Mum. I didn’t even check the phone last night.” She looked over her shoulder toward the stairs. “I’d better get to work before I get in trouble.” She walked lightly over to Maisie and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Mum. I’ll make sure I don’t let the battery run down again.”
Maisie watched Brenda turn and go. She turned to me. “What do you think?”
I was happy to be able to answer her honestly. “I think she proved that she does listen to you. You told her not to drive home if she’s been drinking, and she didn’t. She doesn’t look glassy-eyed or confused, so I’d say she’s telling you the truth. And if she’ll listen to you about drinking and driving, maybe she’s listening to the things you tell her about drugs, too. Maybe she’s trying.”
Maisie gave me a grateful look and I returned to the sitting room. I wasn’t ready to start filing again, so I glanced at my mobile phone. No missed calls. I swallowed hard and dialed Griff’s number.
As I had feared, he didn’t pick up. He would have seen that I was calling and he didn’t want to answer the phone. I sighed and resolved not to call him again.
Next I called Sylvie. “Is Seamus ready to see the castle?” I asked.
“He’s been pacing around here this morning like a caged bull,” she said with a laugh. “He couldn’t wait for you to call.” She said she wanted to pick up a few last souvenirs in the village. “Take Seamus and entertain him for as long as you want,” she said. “He won’t be able to get enough of the castle and all its artwork.”
Just a few minutes later the doorbell echoed through the hallways. I ran to let Seamus in. He stood in the main hall, looking up and around and taking it all in.
“I’ve not been in a private house like this before,” he said. “I’ve visited the castles in Scotland and England, of course, but those are for tourists. This is the real deal!” I was delighted that he was so excited to see Annabel’s home.
I took him through the main floor and he lingered over every artifact, every statuette, every painting. He knew some of them and was intrigued by everything he didn’t recognize. He took photos with his mobile phone to peruse later. We were finishing our tour of the dining room when Rhisiart came in. I introduced the two men quickly, explaining to Rhisiart that Seamus was an artist and interested in the artwork in the castle. Rhisiart eyed Seamus with an air of suspicion. “Do I know your work?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Seamus answered, a gleam in his eye. “Do I know yours?”
“I write thrillers. You’ve probably seen my stuff in bookstores.”
Seamus made a show of thinking about Rhisiart’s words. “Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll be on the lookout next time I’m in a bookstore, though.”
Rhisiart could barely conceal the disdain in his voice. “Eilidh, Hugh and Sian and I need to speak to you sometime. Sian will be coming back tomorrow. Tomorrow evening I’d like you to join her and Hugh and me in the dining room about fifteen minutes before dinner.” I had a strong feeling this would have something to do with the “missing will” Rhisiart had overheard me discussing with Sylvie and I smiled inwardly, wondering how they would broach the subject without revealing that Rhisiart
had been listening in on a private conversation.
I nodded and put my hand on Seamus’s arm to steer him out of the room. I covered my mouth to suppress a giggle when we were in the hallway. Seamus rolled his eyes and mimed holding a teacup with his pinky finger pointed up. “Quite a fancy gent,” he whispered. “Do you think he’ll follow us around to make sure I won’t steal anything?”
“Probably,” I replied.
“I’ve heard of him, of course,” Seamus said. “But I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.” He gave me a devilish grin. “How did I do?”
I laughed. “Perfect. Now let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you around up there.”
We spent hours going through the rooms upstairs. We didn’t go into any occupied rooms, but I was able to show him much of the artwork Annabel had kept in storage. He enjoyed the tour and thanked me profusely for showing him around.
He and Sylvie and I had dinner together that evening, a cozy meal in the coach house. We kept the conversation light so we wouldn’t dwell on their departure, which they had told me would be in two days. I got up early the next morning, thankful that it was going to be a busy day so I couldn’t feel sorry for myself until Sylvie and Seamus left. There was work to do before Sian was discharged from hospital with André and I was helping Brenda prepare the nursery before Sian’s arrival at the castle. Brenda and Annabel had begun decorating the nursery, but progress had come to a halt upon Annabel’s death. It didn’t matter very much because the baby would spend his first few months in the same room with Sian. She had decided to remain at the castle for the foreseeable future, so the nursery would be put to use eventually. We put the finishing touches in the baby’s room just as Sian and André arrived. Everyone in the castle went to greet them, then Sian went straight to her room, taking André with her. She looked exhausted and André was crying. They both needed some time to rest.
But later on that afternoon, I was upstairs getting something out of a storage room for Brenda when I passed one of the big sitting rooms. Sian was in there with André, who was crying as though the world might end. Sian was crying, too.
I poked my head in the room. “Sian, can I spell you for a while? It looks like you could use a little break. Want me to watch André while you take a walk or a nap?”
She wiped her eyes and heaved a heavy sigh as she stood up from where she had been rocking the baby in a cradle. “Thank you, Eilidh. I’m exhausted. What I really need is a long nap, but I could do with a walk outside to clear my head.” She left, her steps slow and heavy. I felt sorry for her—no husband, no mother-in-law, and a fussy newborn.
I discovered that what André wanted was to move about. I picked him up and walked up and down the length of the sitting room, then out into the hallway. I remembered Greer saying that sometimes movement could calm a baby. Rocking him in the cradle clearly hadn’t worked, so I tried something else. He seemed fascinated every time we passed a window or a wall sconce. The changing shades of light must have given him something interesting to look at.
When Sian returned, her color was better and she seemed in a happier frame of mind. I was rocking André in my arms when she came back into the room.
“You got him to stop crying,” she said in relief.
“He likes to walk, to look at the light coming in the windows and from the wall sconces in the hallway,” I said.
“I know he does, but I’m just so tired,” she said in a weary voice. “I don’t have the energy to walk around with him just now.”
“Tomorrow I’ll watch him for you while you get a nap,” I offered.
“Would you do that for me?” she asked. “I’d appreciate it very much.”
I spent the afternoon running errands. I had received a call from the police station informing me that I could pick up my laptop, so I stopped to get it. I was thrilled to have it back not only because I liked to use it, but because it meant the police hadn’t found any incriminating evidence on it. They hadn’t discovered how Annabel was administered the poison, but they were continuing their investigation, they said.
After I left the police station I remembered that I had an appointment with the family before dinner. When I entered the dining room, the three of them were standing around the table, each holding a beverage. Rhisiart offered me a glass of wine, but I declined. He motioned for me to sit down at the long table, and I also declined that. I knew what they were trying to do—they were exhibiting a show of force, much like animals in the wild would do, to intimidate me. If I were the only one sitting down, I would feel like I was at a distinct disadvantage. So the four of us stood around the table looking, I felt, rather like idiots.
“We have been talking, the three of us,” Rhisiart began, “and we want to assure ourselves that Annabel’s true wishes are being followed. Hugh brought it to my attention that we never really searched the house for any other will Annabel may have written, so we wanted to do that. Just to make sure, you understand, that the property is being taken care of in a way that Annabel would have found acceptable.”
I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes at his ridiculous speech. All of us knew Annabel would turn over in her freshly dug grave if she knew the castle and its surrounding property were turned into a venue for breeding race horses, but we all continued with the pretense.
Rhisiart continued. “What we want from you is to know whether Annabel ever mentioned the existence of another will, one that would supersede her wishes in the will that was at Mr. Hadley’s office in Cardiff.”
I took my time answering. I put on a serious face, my lips screwed in one direction and my eyes with a faraway look, to prove how hard I was thinking about Rhisiart’s statement. Finally I spoke, surprising myself with the ease of my lie.
“This is something that has concerned me, too, since it’s entirely possible there was a will that Annabel made after the one in Mr. Hadley’s office. But I don’t know where it might be. She had a few hiding places in the castle, so it could be in one of those, I suppose. Will you need help looking for it?”
Rhisiart exchanged a glance with Sian. “Don’t worry yourself about it. We’ll take care of that. What with all your duties around here just running the place, I’m sure you don’t have time to go looking for a will that probably doesn’t even exist.” He laughed.
“So I assume you want me to keep running things until the will is settled?” I asked.
“Of course, of course,” Hugh answered. “I don’t know how the place would run without you. You know, for the time being, at least.”
They were going to look for the will and they didn’t want me to participate. That much was clear. I suppose I should have felt a twinge of guilt for sending them on a wild goose chase, but maybe it would teach Rhisiart a lesson about eavesdropping and give me and Maisie and Brenda a brief reprieve from our job hunting.
We ate dinner in relative silence, though Cadi joined us and regaled us with her typical snide comments about the food not being up to London standards and André, in a pram next to Sian, made occasional soft noises in his sleep. I longed to hear what they all had to say to each other once dinner was over, but I knew they wouldn’t say a word with me around so I spared them the discomfort of waiting in silence and went to my room as soon as I finished eating.
I curled up in my armchair with the book I had begun reading, but soon unsettling thoughts began to worm their way into my mind and I couldn’t concentrate on the words in front of me any longer.
What if Hugh and Sian and Rhisiart realized I was lying to them? What if they realized my ideas about another will were nothing more than a practical joke? They could make finding another job very difficult for me.
It turned out to be far worse than that, though.
I reached for my mobile phone and, without even thinking about what I was doing, dialed Griff’s number. I realized with horror what I had done when the phone began to ring, and while
my mind frantically tried to decide whether I should hang up or let it keep ringing, Griff answered the phone.
“Hello.”
“Hi, um, sorry to bother you. I called you by mistake.”
“I see. Well, if it was a mistake, then I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wait. I mean, I just wanted to see if everything is okay with you.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Look, I feel like I should tell you what happened that night I saw you in the pub and…”
“You don’t need to tell me anything,” he interrupted. “It’s really none of my business.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I said miserably. This was not going well.
“What’s there to understand? You were there having a drink with Rhisiart, someone you previously loathed. There’s no law against that. He’s rich, he’s good-looking. I can’t blame you for that.”
“But I wasn’t there because I wanted to be,” I tried explaining.
“Oh, I get it. He forced you to the pub at knife-point. Now it all makes sense.”
“Griff, would you stop it? I’m trying to explain something to you!”
“I don’t really want to hear it, Eilidh. I thought you were someone different, and I was wrong. I hate it when I misjudge people.”
“You didn’t misjudge me, Griff.”
“It seems I did. Are we done? I have things I have to do.”
“I guess we’re done. Bye.”
He rang off. I pushed the “end” button on my phone a wee bit too hard. Tears stung the backs of my eyes. I slammed my book closed and tossed it on the floor. I had no interest in reading any longer. I had only myself to blame for the mess with Griff, and he was clearly not interested in listening to my excuses and pleas for understanding. I couldn’t really blame him—I’d probably react the same way if our situations were reversed.