Jane wept every night in her lonely bed and grew thin and pale and nervous. When Adam was at the surgery she would sometimes ring the farm in Wales for quick guilty words with Liza and later, when she learned to talk, with little Beth who knew about her granny in St Albans but did not remember ever having seen her. Brid did not care what she did. At the moment she was not interested in Adam’s wife.
She had learned how to tease him; how to hide when he came upstairs after a silent dinner with Jane, how to wait until he had changed from his doctor’s suit with its dark colours and neat striped tie into a dressing gown, or better still in the warmth of the bedroom, nothing at all. Then she would sprawl on the bed, her dark hair spread across the pillow, sometimes wearing her long green gown, sometimes naked, her arms beckoning him away from his book and under the sheets, where she would caress and lick and kiss until with a groan half of guilt and half of ecstasy he would abandon himself to her every wile. Once or twice she took him with her, out of his body into a dream world where he could fly and run and leap naked across the heather, reaching out to keep hold of her hand before falling, inextricably twined together on the grass beside the pool where they had first made love.
Lying alone in what had once been their bedroom Jane could hear him sometimes cry out in the night, and thinking it was misery she cried too, but then she realised the sound was one of anguished, grudging pleasure, and she buried her face in the pillow and allowed it to absorb her desperate tears.
Once she tried to win him back.
She cooked his favourite meal and put on a dress she knew he liked and daubed her wrists and neck with perfume. His face brightened when he saw her. ‘You look happier, Janie,’ he said. ‘I’m glad.’
He ate the meal, if not with relish at least with more enthusiasm than usual and answered her questions about the practice and Robert and her tentative suggestion that they might consider going on holiday next year. He listened and nodded and smiled at her and for a moment she allowed herself to feel hopeful. Carefully she avoided the topic of Liza and Beth – which she knew would bring fury and recrimination – and focused instead on a future where he and she could travel and look forward, not back.
For once when she cleared the dishes he stayed where he was and talked to her while she put the kettle on for tea and when she rather coyly produced a box of chocolates he took one and smiled and touched her hand. Her excitement growing, she squeezed his shoulder and allowed her fingers to trail across the back of his neck. He stiffened for a moment then relaxed and smiled again. He took her hand. ‘I haven’t been much help to you, Janie, over the last couple of years. I’m sorry.’
She smiled back. ‘It doesn’t matter. As long as we’re there for each other now.’
She thought he was going to reach up and kiss her, and her heart leaped with excitement, but with another squeeze of his hand he leaned back in his chair. ‘What happened to that tea?’
‘It’s coming.’ Hiding her disappointment she turned away and busied herself with the pot and caddy. ‘Shall we go out later?’ she said, not looking at him. ‘It’s a lovely evening. We could go up to the abbey or walk in the park.’
‘That might be nice.’ Noncommittal.
‘Here.’ She passed him his cup. ‘Or we could take a drink out into the garden. What would you like to do?’
‘Just sit here for a while and enjoy my tea.’ He was growing restless though, she could sense it.
She could feel herself becoming uneasy. She mustn’t rush him, she knew that, but she longed so much for him to turn to her, to put his arms around her and make love to her. Putting her own cup down she went to sit next to him. ‘Adam – ’
‘Wait! Did you hear something?’ Adam straightened suddenly. ‘Listen!’
‘There’s nothing to hear.’ She found she was frightened. There was a tightening in her chest as she listened. ‘Why should there be anything there? Come on, let’s go out,’ she stood up and caught his hand, ‘please, Adam.’
But it was there, outside the open window. The sound of scraping, and then, suddenly a rustle of ivy and from the silence outside a low, threatening growl.
‘Adam, please. Let’s go. Don’t wait.’
‘It’s only a cat – ’
‘It’s not only a cat!’ Her voice rose to a shriek. ‘You know it’s not only a cat! Adam, please, listen to me. You can’t stay and let her do this to you. You can’t!’
She was clinging to him as he stood up and walked towards the window.
The cat stood for a moment on the sill, its ears flattened, its eyes a blaze of orange, then it leaped lightly down into the room, its tail swishing viciously.
‘Adam,’ she shrank back. ‘Adam, don’t let her hurt me.’
‘Go, Janie. Please, go.’ He put a gentle hand on the animal’s head and immediately it raised its face towards him and pressed against his legs.
Jane backed away with a sob. ‘Adam! Please.’
‘Go, Jane!’ His voice was harsh. For a second he hesitated, glancing at her, then, slowly, he turned and walked towards the door, the cat stalking stiff-legged beside him. In a moment they had gone and the door closed behind them.
Jane subsided onto the chair, tears pouring down her face. She sat there until it grew dark, then at last she reached for the phone and dialled Liza’s number.
Liza glanced at her watch. The train was as usual late. She had been standing on the platform at Newport for what seemed like hours, having drained a second cup of revolting British Railways coffee and read the paper from beginning to end. Jane’s call the previous night had been hysterical and so desperate Liza had nearly offered to get into the car and drive to St Albans on the spot, but good sense had prevailed, together with the fact that little Beth, now three years old and attending a kindergarten in Hay had a feverish cold and wouldn’t let her out of her sight. This morning she was better and the little girl had agreed to stay with Grandpa Phil provided she was allowed to paint in his studio. Liza was fairly sure that the doting grandpa did not mind nearly as much as he made out. It was too bad if he did. She was going to meet Jane off the fast train from Paddington and then take her out to lunch on the way back to the farm so that she could find out exactly what had been happening.
The train pulled in at last and when she saw Jane’s wan face the moment she climbed off, dragging her small suitcase behind her as though it weighed ten tons, her heart sank. Jane looked desperately ill and unhappy. Taking the case out of her hand she led the way to the car and then threaded her way out of Newport’s morning traffic towards the mountain road. ‘Tell me what happened.’ She glanced at the woman beside her.
Jane shrugged. ‘It’s Brid. She’s there every night. He’s moved into the spare room with her.’
Liza bit her lip, trying not to let her shock show. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Oh yes, I’m sure.’ The voice was very bitter. ‘He’s bewitched.’
Liza braked and changed gear as she swung the car onto the Abergavenny road. ‘Does he know where you are?’
‘No. He’s forbidden me ever to see you or Phil and little Beth. I’m not even allowed to talk to him about you all. He still blames you for Calum’s death. He’s sour and twisted and I think he’s going mad.’ Suddenly she dissolved into tears again. ‘Liza, I think I’m going mad too. I don’t know what to do.’
Liza reached over just for a second and touched Jane’s hands as they lay locked together in her lap. ‘We’ll stop in a minute and I’ll buy you a drink. Then when we’ve got some food inside you we’ll go home. You’re going to stay with us for as long as you like and get to know your granddaughter and you’re going to put that silly silly man out of your head. You are not going mad. It sounds as though he might be, but we’ll deal with that.’ She frowned as she turned into the narrow gate of the white-painted stone-built pub on the edge of the road. Inside she knew they would find a discreet landlord, a roaring fire and delicious home-cooked food. She didn’t want Beth seeing Jane until all her tea
rs were spent.
Several days later it was Liza who drew up outside the Craigs’ gate in St Albans. The lights were on and she could see Adam’s Rover parked in the drive. She was exhausted; her initial fury and indignation at Adam’s insensitivity and selfishness had abated slightly as the car ate up the long miles across England and been replaced by a feeling of unease.
Taking a deep breath, she unlatched the car door and climbed out. She kept her finger on the bell for several seconds before letting the echo die away into silence. No one came.
In the back garden the winter grass was uncut and Adam’s pride and joy, his roses, were a sprawl of untrimmed branches and dead flowers. The kitchen door was open.
Stepping inside she stood and looked round. There were unwashed plates in the sink. The kettle was, when she put a hand gently on its flank, slightly warm. There was a smell coming from the unemptied rubbish bin. She tiptoed across the floor and carefully pulling open the door, she listened.
‘Adam?’ Her voice sounded hollow and nervous as she stood at the bottom of the stairs and peered up. She held her breath and listened. The silence in the house had suddenly changed quality. It seemed alert as though someone or something were listening in return. She shivered, wishing she had had the chance to see Meryn before she came back to Hertfordshire, but he was away and had been for a long, long time.
‘Adam!’ She spoke more loudly this time. ‘Where are you? It’s Liza. For goodness’ sake! I’ve driven a long way. The least you could do is answer your door.’
Again silence. Then she thought she heard a sound upstairs.
‘Adam!’ Not giving herself time to think she put a foot on the staircase and peered up. ‘Adam? Are you all right?’
At the top she paused and looked round. The door to Adam and Jane’s bedroom was open. It was deserted as she had guessed it would be, the twin beds meticulously made, the dressing table bare, the curtains half drawn though it was still daylight.
‘Adam!’ She withdrew into the hall and, resolutely not looking at the closed door of what had been Calum’s bedroom, headed for the spare room.
‘Adam!’ She knocked loudly.
The silence behind the door was palpable.
‘Adam, I know you’re there.’ She tried the handle. The door opened and she stared in.
Adam was lying on the bed, his arm across his eyes. He was fully dressed, though his shirt was open.
‘Adam?’ She spoke sharply, her voice edged with fear. ‘Adam, are you all right?’ Hurrying to the bed she looked down at him. His shirt had been torn open. She could see two of the buttons lying on the carpet, and a small hole ripped into the cotton where another had failed to pull clear of its button hole. There were scratches on his chest.
‘Adam!’ She grabbed his wrist and felt for his pulse.
He seemed to be breathing normally, but when she shook him she could get no response. His eyes stayed closed and his head lolled to one side on the pillow. ‘Adam, what’s wrong?’ She put her hands on his shoulders and shook him, then she headed for the bathroom and came back with a toothmug full of cold water.
As she threw it into his face his eyes flew open and he stared at her without recognition. ‘Adam, are you all right?’ She sat on the bed next to him. ‘It’s me, Liza.’
He looked at her, dazed, for several seconds, then slowly he sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. Sitting there he put his head in his hands and rubbed his face hard. Then at last he looked up at her with some semblance of attention.
‘Adam, for God’s sake, what’s the matter with you?’ She stood up and looked down at him. ‘I’ve been knocking and shouting for hours.’
‘Liza?’ His voice was croaky. ‘Did I ask you to come?’ The edge in his voice was not entirely hostile. There was genuine confusion.
‘No, of course you didn’t ask me, but we need to talk. This quarrel has gone on long enough. It’s ludicrous.’
He was recovering fast. ‘I don’t remember thinking it was ludicrous. Your daughter was responsible for Calum’s death – ’
‘That is crap, Adam, and you know it!’ Liza turned on him. ‘What has happened to your wits? You know as well as I do that they were in love, they were happy, they had everything to live for.’ Her voice cracked and she brushed an angry fist across her eyes. ‘Look, I did not come here to talk about the children. I came to talk about Jane. And about Brid.’
Adam went white. ‘There is nothing to discuss. My wife has run off, and what I do and what friends I have are none of your business.’
‘I think they are. So Brid is a friend now, is she? Do you make a habit of having psychopathic, murderous ghosts as your friends?’
Adam’s face suffused a deep red. He stood up. ‘Out.’ He pointed to the door.
‘No. I’ve just arrived. You might be able to terrorise your wife, but you can’t terrorise me, Adam Craig. You are mad, do you realise that?’ She folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her chin aggressively. ‘So, where is she? Or are we still imagining she isn’t real?’
‘Oh she’s real enough.’ Adam smiled.
‘Real enough to scratch you, certainly.’ She looked meaningfully at his chest.
He glanced down and put his hand on the scratches. ‘I was pruning the roses.’
‘I don’t think so. More likely you’ve had a visitor in your bed.’
‘Don’t, Liza. Just go away. I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey, but there is nothing for you here. Go home.’
‘No. I’m not going until you talk some sense. We’ll go downstairs and discuss this.’
‘There is nothing to discuss.’
‘I think there is. Whether you like it or not we have a little granddaughter who is going to grow up wondering why her grandparents don’t talk to each other. Are you going to let her grow up thinking her grandfather is mad?’
‘Get out, Liza.’ His voice had gone suddenly very quiet.
‘No. Not until I’ve had my say. This has gone on long enough.’
‘Liza. There is nothing to say. Please leave my house.’ He turned and pulling off his ruined shirt, reached for a sweater from the chair in the corner. His back too, she saw, was covered in thin scratches. She felt suddenly very sick.
‘Adam. Please come down.’
‘Go now.’ She saw him glance beyond her at the door and she felt a cold shiver run down her back.
‘I am going to talk to you first.’
‘I don’t think so. Please leave.’
There was a slight sound behind her from the landing and, her heart lurching in sudden fright, Liza turned. Standing in the doorway was Brid, her hair a dark shining frame around her shoulders, her eyes the colour of old silver. She was wearing a long blue dress which almost reached the floor. Below the hem her feet were bare.
A-dam, make her go away.
Although she didn’t appear to have spoken aloud Liza heard the words clearly in her head.
‘Please leave, Liza, for your own sake.’
But Brid was in the doorway.
Liza clenched her fists. Protection. Remember the psychic protection Meryn had taught her. ‘I have come here to talk to you, Adam. Please ask your friend to go away until we have finished.’
‘You go, Liza.’
‘Not until we have finished.’ She hoped she looked braver than she felt. Taking a deep breath she stepped towards Adam and put her hand on his arm. ‘Send her away.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Yes you can.’ She raised her chin. ‘Make her go away.’
Brid moved closer. She didn’t appear to walk, it was just that one moment she was in the doorway and the next she was standing only four feet away from Liza and Liza could see the small knife clutched in her hand.
‘Adam, are you going to let her stick that thing in me?’ She tried desperately to control her voice, pushing down the waves of panic which were sweeping over her.
‘Brid, please.’ Adam suddenly sounded firmer. ‘I want you to go away. Just
for five minutes. Then you can come back. Otherwise, Adam will be cross.’ For the first time he looked at the girl and Liza saw her grow pale. For a moment she thought she looked less distinct, as though she were nothing more than a shadow, then Brid turned and left the room.
‘You are a fool, Liza. I can’t control her. She could have killed you.’
‘But she didn’t.’ Liza took a deep breath. ‘So, what the hell is going on here? Does she live here now?’
‘Liza, listen to me.’ He seemed to have regained his composure. Ignoring her questions he took a deep breath. ‘There is too much separating us now. I do not wish to see you here, or anywhere else for that matter. And if my wife is with you, you can take her away as well. That is all I have to say. Now, please go before Brid returns, or I will not be responsible for what happens.’
‘Adam – ’
‘I mean it, Liza.’
‘You are out of your mind.’ It was true, she realised suddenly. The expression behind his eyes was vacant, wild. It was as though another voice were speaking through him. Suddenly afraid, she took a step away from him. ‘Adam,’ she tried one last time. ‘Please. Come with me. Let us at least talk. Outside, in the garden.’ If she could get him away from the house, perhaps he would be himself again. ‘Just listen to me for a few minutes.’
‘Go, now.’ He gave her one last hostile look then he turned away from her and walked towards the window. When she glanced at the doorway she saw Brid standing there, the knife in her hand.
‘All right.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’ll go. Call off your bodyguard.’
Brid smiled. She moved towards him and Liza felt the cold shiver of the air as the woman walked past her. With a triumphant smile Brid put her hand on Adam’s chest and pushed up against him, her head under his chin. His arm came around her shoulders and he looked at Liza over the dark head.
‘Go.’
‘I’m going.’ Liza felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat. Without another glance she turned and ran down the stairs. Letting herself out of the front door she ran down the path and climbed into her car. Then she sat, her head resting on the rim of the steering wheel, shaking like a leaf. Behind her the curtains of the upstairs room closed. The light did not go on behind them.
On the Edge of Darkness Page 35