Eloise

by Judy Finnigan

  ‘Jack was nearly shot by Ted last night. I don’t think a deranged letter will surprise him. The man is temporarily mad, and I’m sure Jack can take it.’

  Jack gave me a sweet smile and took the note. He read it with equanimity.

  ‘Right,’ he said when he finished it. ‘At least we know what we’re dealing with, then.’

  ‘Do we?’ I asked. ‘I think we have a huge problem. And I don’t know what to do about it.’

  ‘For the moment, Cathy, I think we should have a cup of tea.’ This was Juliana, and she was right. We needed to calm down.

  And then Eve and Arthur burst into the house. Alone.

  ‘Mum, Dad, Ted came to the beach. And he took Rose and Violet with him, even though they didn’t want to go. They were crying and saying they wanted to stay here with their granny and us. But he took no notice, just picked them up and forced them into the car. He wouldn’t even speak to us.’

  I was distressed that Evie was so upset. I told them it wasn’t their fault and cursed Ted yet again for causing such emotional damage so carelessly. I gave them both a mug of hot chocolate, and they went downstairs to watch TV.

  ‘I think we ought to call the police,’ I said to Chris. ‘We should tell them what happened last night.’

  ‘I’d rather not do that, Cath. Ted’s a friend and he’s grieving – I’d hate to see him behind bars. Anyway, he’d probably get a conditional discharge, given his emotional state.’

  I looked at Juliana, certain she’d support me. But what she said surprised me. She sounded amazingly calm.

  ‘I agree with Chris,’ she said. ‘We have to be realistic about this. Ted is the girls’ dad, and he has every right to pick them up from the beach and take them home. So, what we have to ask ourselves is, are our worries about him justified, or are we prejudiced against him because he has behaved so frighteningly last night? I agree he needs treatment, that’s obvious. But we have an eminent psychiatrist in our midst, so I really think we should take his advice. We owe Ted a duty of care. Or at least I do. I am his mother-in-law, after all.’

  Chris spoke firmly. ‘Juliana, you have absolutely articulated how I feel. I’m very ambivalent about Ted. I know he’s being an asshole, but I think I understand why and I’m sure this behaviour is temporary and that certainly he won’t harm the twins – who have to be our greatest concern.’

  I spoke, slowly and reluctantly. ‘You’re wrong, Chris. You’re both wrong,’ I said, glancing at Juliana. ‘I know you don’t believe me about Eloise’s warnings, but everything that’s happened so far has accorded absolutely with her forebodings. You probably don’t want me to talk about it, but I told you she is terrified that Ted is going to hurt their children.’

  I could tell Chris didn’t want to listen. Then Jack pitched in.

  ‘Could you tell me what you mean about Eloise’s warnings, Cathy?’

  ‘It’s a long story, and I don’t want to upset Chris or Juliana. I can’t offer a shred of what you’d call proper evidence, but I do know that my dear friend Eloise is telling me that her death was premature, and that her children are in danger.’

  ‘From Ted?’ asked Jack.

  ‘I believe so,’ I said.

  Chris looked very uncomfortable. ‘Cathy,’ he interrupted, ‘We need to talk about facts, not mumbo-jumbo.’

  I was furious.

  ‘Do you think the way Ted’s been behaving, his threats, his violence, his attitude towards the twins, is normal? Can’t you at least acknowledge that everything I’ve been saying to you so far has proved true?’

  Chris flushed. ‘Look, Cathy, what I’m saying is that Ted’s grief, his anger, are entirely consistent with bereavement. That’s rooted in psychological behaviour, and that is why Ted’s behaving in the way he is. It has nothing to do with bloody ghosts.’

  Juliana stopped him.

  ‘Chris, I know your training means it’s very hard for you to believe what Cathy says, but I do think you should listen to her. Intuition is a powerful thing, especially when it’s linked to love and care. Cathy and Eloise were very close, and besides, she’s not the only one who’s had disturbing messages. So have I. My daughter has left me many troubled thoughts, mostly to do with her anxiety about her daughters. All I’m trying to say is that we’re all troubled now, aren’t we? And for good reason. So Cathy’s dreams in fact foreshadowed what has happened. And I don’t think you should dismiss her as – what? A fantasist? Just because she reaches conclusions in a different way from you?’ After an awkward silence, Jack spoke, gently and calmly.

  ‘I think, understandably, we’re wandering off the beaten track here. What we need to do now is to establish if Ted poses a danger to his daughters, and, if so, what we can do about it. I propose, if nobody minds me making a suggestion, that we phone Ted to find out where he is.’

  Relieved by such a sensible suggestion, Juliana went to the phone. She stood holding it for some time; Ted was obviously not going to answer, so she left a message in a tone so conciliatory it was almost maternal.

  ‘Ted, my dear. I’m so sorry about everything that’s happened in the last couple of days. I hate to see you so unhappy. Can’t we put all this behind us and think about what’s best for Violet and Rose? We both have their interests at heart. And I do, so much, want you to be happy as well. We have all had such a difficult time over the last five years. We owe each other the patience to find peace and harmony. And to love each other. Please, Ted, let us make the girls’ lives happy and worthwhile. Call me back when you can.’

  I have to say we all felt stunned. I had no idea that Juliana was such an accomplished actress. I could certainly see where Eloise’s dramatic talent had come from.

  ‘And now,’ she said, ‘All we can do is wait.’

  And we did. All evening. Ted didn’t phone back, and our frequent calls to him on the landline went unanswered. His mobile was switched off.

  Sam and Tom came home. The kids were hungry and I sent them out in my Beetle to bring back pizza from Polperro. After a subdued meal around the kitchen table, Juliana said she, Jack and Arthur really had to get back to Roseland. We kissed goodbye, aware that we had reached a time when a crisis loomed frighteningly close.

  ‘Tell me if he calls you,’ I begged Juliana. ‘We need to make a decision about his state of mind. And be careful. If he’s still as mad as last night, he might come to Roseland. You know he’s dangerous.’

  ‘Don’t worry about Juliana,’ Jack said. He smiled. ‘I promise you I can handle Ted.’

  We waved goodbye. In truth I was glad they’d gone. Not because I didn’t like their company, but because the last two days had been such a strain and I wanted to wind down.

  We all watched Jaws and it did the trick. It removed us from the tension we’d felt all day, and substituted a fictional suspense which was much easier to deal with. Later, all three of our children went to bed, humming the Jaws theme tune, teasing each other with pretend shark attacks. I felt reassured that their sleep would be haunted by nothing more sinister than the odd circling fin, and I knew that would be far preferable to the sound of Ted’s shotgun in the garden.

  In bed, Chris and I were both reluctant to talk about Ted and the twins. There was a sense of imminent danger that neither of us wanted to confront. But, to my dismay, just after we switched the light out Chris turned to me.

  ‘Cathy, I think you should know that I’m still planning for us all to leave the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Surely not after everything that’s happened with Ted? What about Rose and Violet?’

  ‘They’ve got Juliana and Jack. They’ll be perfectly safe.’

  ‘How can you say that? Ted’s a madman.’

  ‘I’m sure Juliana is perfectly capable of looking after her grandchildren. I’ll make enquiries about psychological treatment for Ted, of course, but I can do that from London. I told you, I’m determined to sell this place and I’m not going to let Ted’s behaviour stop me. And Cathy, you agreed to come home.’


  ‘Yes, but not now. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to the girls and I wasn’t here to protect them.’

  He turned his back to me in bed.

  ‘Cathy, I’ve told you. It’s precisely because of this kind of obsessive thinking that I need to get you back to London. I agree Ted’s volatile, but his anger’s directed at Jack and Eloise, not his daughters.’

  ‘And me. I told you he almost pushed me off the cliff.’

  Chris sighed. ‘So you said. All the more reason to get you back to London, then.’

  I was speechless. He was almost mocking me. Even Ted’s out of control attack on Jack had not convinced Chris that Ted was a threat to me as well.

  I couldn’t bear another row, so I kept silent. But as he slipped into an untroubled sleep, I cursed Chris. I was not going back on Wednesday. I was going nowhere until those girls were safe.

  When I finally slept, my dreams were panicky. I was trying to find Eloise. In the dream I knew she was dead, but I needed to talk to her about something terrifyingly urgent. I had no idea what it was, but I felt very frightened. If I didn’t see Eloise tonight, something unspeakable would happen.

  Suddenly she was there. I could see her at the foot of the bed. She was holding her arms out to me, as if to hold me, and although I didn’t move physically, I felt her embrace.

  ‘You’re panicking, Cathy. Calm yourself. There’s much to do tomorrow. Just listen to Jack. Talk to him, and whatever he asks you to do, do it. He knows the danger. He senses it.’

  And she faded.

  I woke up very early, determined to talk to Jack. It was only just after six a.m., but when I called his mobile he immediately picked up, sounding alert and tense. He listened carefully to my rushed words.

  ‘Listen to me, Jack. Eloise came to me again last night. I know I sound mad, and I know you saw in Ted’s letter that I thought she was haunting me. But the truth is, she is. Has been almost since her death. Juliana can sense her spirit too, but she can’t hear her. For some reason I’m the only one who can. Jack, she’s been telling me for months not to trust Ted and also that the children are in grave danger. I haven’t been able to work out why. Eloise can’t, or won’t, tell me. But last night she said you would know, in some way, what needs to be done. She says you can sense it.’

  There was a pause, then Jack told me calmly that he was on his way to Talland immediately.

  I left Chris sleeping. The house was silent as I dressed and made tea. Jack arrived sooner than I would have thought possible. He walked into the cottage, smiling and self-possessed, and I felt stronger for seeing him. We sat on the sofa in the snug.

  ‘I need to talk to you, Cathy. You’re right, I haven’t seen Eloise and she hasn’t contacted me in any way. But I have felt something is wrong, and I had a powerful urge to come to Cornwall. I told Juliana and the folks back home that I wanted to keep an eye on Arthur. The truth is I felt compelled to get here not just for Arthur, but also for Eloise. I couldn’t understand why, until I met Ted here the day before yesterday. Then everything fell into place.’

  ‘I could tell you didn’t like him. Well, no one would, the way he’s been behaving.’ I paused. ‘Jack, were you … are you … still in love with Eloise?’

  He smiled. ‘It’s not that simple. Ellie and I were together so briefly, such a long time ago. I thought about her a lot when I was growing up in Australia, but life goes on, and inevitably you forget.’

  ‘Are you married, Jack?’

  ‘I was, but it didn’t last the distance. We’re divorced now. But I like being on my own. I wouldn’t want to get married again.’

  ‘No children?’ I asked.

  He hesitated. ‘No, apart from Isabella, and I really have come to love her as a sister, not a daughter, although I’m very protective of her. I’ve had a good life in Australia. I don’t regret leaving Cornwall at all. I doubt I would have had the opportunities and education I’ve had over there if I’d stayed here – I’d have had to push very much harder to get into med school, for example, with the education I was getting at the village school.’

  ‘So, if you’ve been happy out there … ’

  ‘I have,’ he replied sharply.

  ‘Then why do you dislike Ted so much?’

  He smiled. ‘You think I’m jealous of him, don’t you? Because he was married to Eloise? Nothing could be further from the truth. No, I don’t like Ted because I think he’s capable of great cruelty. Even violence.’ He hesitated. ‘There’s something else too. From everything Juliana’s told me about when Eloise died, I just don’t quite understand it. I’m an oncologist, and I’ve worked with hundreds of terminal patients, but their eventual, inevitable end doesn’t happen in the way Eloise’s did. I mean, they’re not fine, energetic, mobile and chatty on the morning of their death, only to die so quickly and suddenly just a couple of hours later. It doesn’t often happen like that. Usually there’s an obvious period of decline. Of course, Eloise had her own doctors. I’d quite like to talk to them about it, to get their opinion. I may be quite wrong, but it just doesn’t quite add up.’

  Chris walked in, wearing his dressing gown. He looked surprised, and not terribly pleased, to see Jack, but greeted him pleasantly enough.

  ‘Hello, Jack. What brings you here so early? Is something going on?’

  ‘No, no. I couldn’t sleep, and drove down here on the off chance that someone was awake. Fortunately, Cathy was up and in the kitchen. She very kindly offered to make me a cup of tea.’

  Chris looked quizzically at me. ‘Really? Well, that’s a first. Cath rarely surfaces much before noon.’

  ‘Chris, you know that’s not true.’

  He smiled. ‘Well, you’re not exactly an early bird. But it’s good to see you, Jack. Cathy and I are leaving Cornwall with the kids tomorrow. So this is probably the last time we’ll see you before you go back to Australia. When are you going back, anyway?’

  Jack didn’t respond to Chris’s slightly hostile tone.

  ‘I’m not quite sure yet. I want to make sure Arthur’s happily settled with Juliana. It’s going to be a big change for him, going to college in England, and he may change his mind, in which case I’ll take him back home with me. So I’ll probably still be around when you guys next come to Cornwall.’

  ‘We won’t be coming back, Jack.’ Chris said with utter calm. ‘I’m selling this place.’

  Jack looked at me in consternation.

  ‘But why? I thought Cathy loved it here?’

  ‘I do,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Then why sell?’

  It was Chris who answered.

  ‘Because it’s not good for Cathy’s health. I would have thought you’d already gathered that. When Ted said the other day that she sees ghosts and holds séances, he was absolutely right. It’s not normal, and it only happens in Cornwall. So I’m getting her out of here, back to London where she can forget all this nonsense about Eloise.’

  I was mortified. Chris was doing it again, humiliating me before someone who was almost a stranger. It was as if the last couple of days, his renewed affection, had never happened. Why was he talking like this? Did he see Jack as some sort of threat?

  I couldn’t bear to look at either of them. Mumbling something about clearing up the mess that Ted had left, I walked up to my little writing house. The door still hung crazily from its hinges, and the chaos inside rocked me even more than the day before. Still shaking after Chris’s contemptuous dismissal of me to Jack, I thought making a start on cleaning it up would keep my mind off my misery. Anyway, if Chris really was so intent on abandoning the cottage this week, and I had no reason to doubt it, I couldn’t let any prospective buyer look at the mess Ted had made of my life. Because that’s what it felt like. A violent intrusion into my most private space.

  People are always going on about how men need a shed to retreat to. But I think the same goes for women, too. I don’t think you get much privacy as a middle-aged married woman. You share
your bedroom, your bathroom. You share your living space, your deepest thoughts and anxieties with your family. And that’s what you want, of course, that total identification with your life as a wife and mother. That whole Mother-ship thing, the feeling of being the fount of care, love and wisdom, the only person who will defend your family to the death, is as seductive as it is exhausting. But this, my little cabin, was totally mine. I didn’t really like even Chris visiting it. Just like Virginia Woolf, everyone needs a room of one’s own.

  I found a couple of bin liners and started to pick up the rubbish. I began with the bed, carefully remaking it so it looked like my sanctuary again. Chucking the torn books and papers into the sturdy bags was easy, but upsetting. To me, books were deeply personal. But, I thought, I would replace them, each and every one. And then I thought, what’s the point? We were going to leave Cornwall tomorrow. What was I doing? Trying to tidy my life up so that newcomers wouldn’t glimpse how much this place meant to me?

  I bent down. I’d seen something white underneath the desk. I fished out two tiny scraps of paper. They were tickets to the Daphne du Maurier Festival in Fowey the previous year. They were for a theatrical production. I looked at them, puzzled, until I remembered that I’d found them in the pocket of Eloise’s leather jacket. She had lent it to me last summer when I was shivering on her lovely sea terrace on a day that turned unexpectedly cold. As I looked at them, I recalled her happy face, her laughter as she told me the play had been terrible, the generosity with which she draped the coat over my shoulders, and I burst into tears.

  That’s how Jack found me, curled up on the bed, sobbing.

  ‘Don’t cry, Cathy. I’m sure Chris didn’t mean to upset you like that. In fact, he apologised to me after you’d gone. Said he was just feeling tired and grumpy.’

  I didn’t buy that. He hadn’t taken the trouble to come to the cabin to apologise to me. I shook my head.

  ‘It’s OK. I’m not crying about him. It’s the whole mess – Eloise, moving away from Cornwall.’