Authors: Marni Graff
Chapter Thirty-Four
“I’m beginning to understand.”
Madame Arcati: Act
III
, Scene 2
8:23 PM
Nora sat in the dining room at one end of the long table with the remaining cast members. She was enveloped in a blanket with her leg propped up on a chair and an ice pack wrapped around her calf. If she weren’t feeling the pain in her leg, she might be in a dream. Her eyes were heavy, and her limbs felt shaky. Maeve brought in the tea and cookies that were to be for after the performance and left the tray on the sideboard. They were untouched by the cast members, who sat in silence.
Maeve had helped Nora out of her costume and into a loose pair of yoga pants and a soft top. Nora had tried to scrub off the sticky face paint and had run a brush through her hair with hands that trembled. Hopeless. A shower would have to wait until she gave her statement to DS Higgins.
“You’re probably in shock.” Maeve touched Nora’s shoulder. “Have a few sips of this.” She brought Nora a mug of hot, sugary tea.
The audience had been allowed to leave, and the Foremans offered Mrs. Higgins a lift home. Callie drove Agnes home after she’d hugged Nora and promised to make her a special breakfast. Kendal police swarmed the drawing room and patio, taking photographs of the crime scene.
It was Helen who spoke first. “I’m stunned.” Her admission gave everyone permission to talk.
“I still can’t believe it.” Poppy’s makeup was rubbed off in places. “Gemma dead by that horrid man, and she wasn’t the one who killed his wife.”
Helen shook her head. “Fiona should have stopped the car the minute she knew she hit something.”
“It was dark, and she thought it was a dog.” Poppy’s eyes were huge as she stood up for Fiona. “I heard her tell Declan and that other detective. Gray told her not to stop, so he’s just as much to blame.” She glared at Helen, daring her to disagree.
Lydia sighed. “I’ll be happy to leave here.”
Rupert pushed his chair back and poured his wife a cup of tea. “We can leave in the morning.” He stopped by Nora’s chair. “I told Declan and I’ll tell you: You were very brave. You saved Fiona and Grayson.”
“I had to do something when I saw Burt was going to release that lever.” Nora gave him a wan smile. “Honestly, I was terrified.” He patted her shoulder and sat back down. “Still, I found the sight of Burt Marsh being carted off in handcuffs painful.”
Simon entered and heard her remark. “You’re soft, Nora. Higgins had no compunctions about bundling a handcuffed Fiona with Grayson into the back of a police car.”
“It was like a circus for a while.” Maeve stood by Simon, and he put his arm around her shoulder.
Nora couldn’t help but wonder what this would do to business at Ramsey Lodge. Everyone’s ticket money for both performances would have to be refunded, a tedious process at best. She hoped Grayson wouldn’t try to wrangle out of his share of the mess.
Declan arrived in the doorway. “Ready to give your statement?”
Nora nodded and carried her ice bag.
“Higgins is out with the CSIs, be here in a moment. No need for you to go to Kendal.” He helped her limp into the library where Higgins would take her statement. “Very painful?”
“Just by the cut and sore along the sides.” She sat down and propped her leg on an ottoman.
“Milo said you’ll have bruises on the leg, and it will feel stiff tomorrow, so be prepared for that.” Lights outside bounced off the ceiling, and Declan moved to the window and pulled the curtain aside. “Crime scene van arriving. Higgins has a uniformed guard by a barricade blocking entry to the driveway.” News vans pulled up along the quay, and cameramen rushed toward the new arrivals, trying to get a picture of the occupants.
“Vultures.” Nora yawned. As the adrenaline rush had left, so had her energy, but at least the trembling had stopped. “And yes, I know I used to be one of them.” Now that they were alone, she waited for him to tell her how stupid she’d been.
“Sorry you were hurt.” Declan stayed by the window.
Nora was learning from Declan that sometimes silence was best.
He finally turned to look at her; she saw him swallow hard before he spoke again. “You could have been killed.”
“I had to do something.” She tried lightness and diversion. “Mental telepathy to you didn’t work. What will happen to Fiona?”
“If she sticks to her story, it’s still reckless endangerment, a death by dangerous driving. She didn’t stop to report it as she should have, and that’s its own offence. Under the Road Traffic Act, even if she hit a dog she should have reported that within twenty-four hours. She insists she wasn’t drunk, that she stayed sober to let Gemma and Grayson get hammered, and there aren’t blood alcohol levels to contradict her.” He twisted his mouth. “That’s what she did the night we saw them at The Scarlet Wench, so she might be telling the truth.” Declan exhaled. “She’s facing six months to two years, but her clean record and a good solicitor will help. A minimum of a heavy fine, and she’ll lose her license for quite a while. Don’t expect they’ll keep her on remand; she’s
being cooperative.”
“And Grayson? Will he walk away from this?”
“I expect he’ll say he was too out of it to remember anything. The car’s been repaired so there’s little for forensics to find, but they’ll impound it anyway and give it a look. If either of them did know she’d hit a person, it’s a wonder they would come here again. That may actually work in their favor—at least if I were a solicitor, that’s the tack I’d take.”
Nora thought of Fiona’s behavior all week. “She became more and more upset about staying here, but I thought that was due to Gemma’s death. Maybe talk of Burt’s wife made her realize what she’d done. I’m not the only one who could Google Estelle’s accident.”
“And she’d have seen that her little bump knocked a woman to the kerb, where the brain injury caused her death. We may never know the truth of what happened that night.” Declan moved from the window to sit on the arm of Nora’s chair. “Once you’ve given your statement, I’m going to have to go to Kendal for a while with Higgins.”
“I know. All part of the job.” Nora allowed herself a wry smile. “Some acting debut.”
“I doubt many people who saw it will forget it any time soon.” He smiled down at her. “You were right. Your knowledge of the theatre and this play led to the killer. And if you hadn’t been backstage to see Burt—I can’t imagine the carnage.”
Nora shook her head. “I can’t imagine what’s going through Burt’s mind tonight, knowing he killed the wrong person.”
“He said he couldn’t tell who was driving when he saw the car drive away after Estelle was hit. That’s what made him cut the brake cables on the Jaguar when he saw it parked in the lot here and recognized it. He assumed Grayson was driving. Then he thought he’d sussed out it was Gemma behind the wheel when he heard her say she’d driven his car before.” Declan looked at her hard when she moved her leg and winced. “Hurting more?”
“The ice helps.” She pointed to the bag lying in her lap.
“I’ve found it works better if you apply it directly to the affected part.” He kept his face neutral.
“Smart-ass. I knew there was a reason I liked having you around.” Nora reapplied the ice pack. “It’s your common sense.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called a smart ass before.”
“You have to say it all in one word: smart-ass.”
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I want to use it.” Declan’s hand reached out and stroked her cheek.
Nora leaned into his touch. “I’m glad you were there tonight.”
She saw the hint of a smile play around his lips. “Someone has to protect you from yourself.”
*
11:25 PM
Simon left the hall light on for Declan’s return. He paused in the doorway to the drawing room. Crime scene tape spread across the opening, and he could see more flutter in the breeze on the patio. In the daylight, it would be visible to anyone on the quay, a stark reminder of all that had gone on this week at Ramsey Lodge.
His hopes had been so high at the beginning of the week. He felt as if he’d been on a roller coaster these past weeks: the rush up to Kate’s wedding, the troupe arriving soon after, hiding their financial straits from Kate at what was supposed to be the happiest time of her life. It wasn’t an irretrievable situation—yet. But the play would have shored up their reserves and taken off the pressure.
Tomorrow, when he could think straight, he’d pull out the contract with Grayson Lange. There was a clause he’d insisted on in case the play had to be cancelled. The fees for the rooms would be paid. The ticket money would be refunded, and he had to see the language for handling that. His half of the prop rental was lost, but he had to hope Grayson would be in a position to pay up his half—unless the man was sitting in jail. Once the drawing room was released, he’d have to repack the props and arrange for them to be taken away early.
“Here you are.” Maeve joined him in the doorway and took his hand. “Sad scene, isn’t it?”
“What a mess.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking of all the things I need to attend to in the next few days”
She put a finger to his lips. “Don’t think of that tonight. Get some rest, and we’ll tackle a list tomorrow when we’re fresh.”
“I’ll need help getting all this stuff packed up—”
“And we’ll get it done. We can have Callie’s brother down for a day to help once you get a schedule.” She put her arm around his waist. “I saw the cordon the police put up at the end of the drive.”
“Should keep the news vans at bay for the moment.” He wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “This may be the end of Ramsey Lodge.”
“You can’t know that, Simon. You have to see how it all shakes out. The notoriety may bring people out.”
“Still, I’m closing the lodge until Kate gets home.”
Maeve stood away from the circle of his arms. “That’s fine. Let the dust settle. But you’ll bounce back, Si.”
“Right now, I’m not sure I want that to happen.” He meant it, too. This week, he’d had his fill of Ramsey Lodge.
Maeve tilted her head to one side. “Look, you’ve had a lot of changes in the last six months: Nora moving toward Declan, us getting together, Kate getting married and now this mess—” She gestured toward the darkened drawing room.
“My point exactly.”
She waved him off. “
My
point is that change can be good, but change takes getting used to—you need to find your new normal. You can use this notoriety to bring people into the lodge. Nora said a choral group is already booked for June. I can see classy evening concerts with string quartets next.”
Simon drew her into a brief hug. “You’re right. I’m unsettled tonight. Things will feel better when these people leave tomorrow.” He turned her toward his room. “But I’m still not looking forward to explaining it all to Kate.”
*
11:58 PM
Declan swung his car into the head of the lodge’s driveway, and Grayson got out to move the barricade, easily done with one hand. The guard and news vans had dispersed, but just the same, Declan told him to replace the barrier once he’d driven through. He stopped at the front door, and Grayson got out and pushed his seat forward. Fiona struggled out of the narrow backseat and walked stiffly ahead of him into the lodge.
Grayson hesitated and bent down. “Thanks, old man. You’ve been better than either of us probably deserve.”
“The law’s the law for everyone; I just enforce it. But you’d both better find damn good solicitors.”
Grayson nodded and moved off into the lodge. Declan continued up the drive and parked.
At the station, he’d reviewed the medical file on Estelle Marsh’s accident. If she hadn’t hit her head on the stone kerb, she might have survived with a badly bruised hip, and none of the events of this last week would have been put in motion. Burt Marsh had withdrawn into himself after admitting to being behind all the accidents and pranks except the generator. He sat curled into a corner of the cell at the station while the others were interviewed. Declan didn’t envy Higgins trying to get his statement in the morning.
He stopped at the garden trellis. The lights were out, and he hoped Nora had taken a good, hot shower. He stood for a moment and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air, filled with hints of sweet spring fragrances. Springtime spoke of renewal and rebirth, yet these past days his thoughts had centered around death once again. His optimism for the future just a few days ago felt very far away tonight.
Declan walked into the lodge, closed the door quietly behind him and bolted it. When he turned around, Nora stood in the doorway of the dining room. She wore her blue robe, and her damp hair fell across her shoulders. In the light from the desk, he saw her hold her arms out to him. He rushed to her and wrapped her up in an embrace as she laid her head against his chest. All of the anxiety he’d felt left him. She sighed deeply, then looked up at him, and he bent down and kissed her with a fierceness that surprised them both. Suddenly the future opened up before him again, bright and beckoning.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Love is a strong psychic force, Mr. Condomine. It can work untold miracles.”
Madame Arcati: Act
III
, Scene 2
Sunday, 15th April
11:55 AM
Nora opened the lodge door and peeked out. The news vans had not returned. Declan had left for Kendal to sit in on the interview with Burt Marsh. By
9 AM
, the police had taken the cordon away and released the drawing room.
She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and mentally crossed her fingers for Ramsey Lodge’s survival. Val had been shocked when she called to hear how Nora’s acting debut had turned out. She reassured Nora that Sean was fine and commiserated with her over her minor injury. More than ever, Nora knew she was fortunate to have friends who loved her and cared for her.
“How did Declan take the whole thing?”
“Remarkably well, considering.” His voice echoed in her mind:
You could have been killed
. She was doing her best to ignore her sore leg. “He even admitted I was useful and saved more people from being hurt.”
“Proves my point, though, Yankee.”
“Which point would that be?”
“That you’re cut out to be a partner to someone like Declan more than you ever were for Paul.”
Bringing up Paul’s name had Nora describing her conversation with the Pembrokes.
“Muriel actually apologized?” Val sounded incredulous.
“And Harvey agreed it was far from her usual behavior.”
“So you’re on a first-name basis now?”
“It was one call, Val. Let’s see what this solicitor has up his sleeve tomorrow.”
As Val rang off, laughter from the drawing room brought a sense of normalcy to the pretty spring day. Callie and her brother were starting to wrap the props, and their gaiety was a start at crowding out the recent horrors.
Two taxis drew up and honked. The first driver rolled down his window and called out: “Lange?”
“You can turn around there.” Nora pointed to the parking lot, and the driver moved off, the second taxi following.
Simon rolled two large suitcases down the pathway, followed by Fiona dragging another and carrying her huge leather bag. The actress hadn’t bothered to hide the dark circles under eyes that spoke of a sleepless night. Nora almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She watched Fiona struggle under the weight of her makeup case before turning to go into the lodge to assist the others checking out.
“I’ll help,” Maeve volunteered. She and Nora walked to the stack of luggage at the bottom of the stairs. Piled on top was Poppy’s sewing machine. Several trips later, piles of luggage stood at the end of the path, and the taxis were lined up and waiting. Fiona sat slumped in the backseat of the first one, eyes closed.
Helen came downstairs, trailed by Poppy. Grayson followed Poppy, arguing all the way. “But Poppet, you said you’d take care of me.”
Poppy reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to him. “Grow up and get over it. I’ve changed my mind.” She waved a finger in his face. “And don’t call me Poppet again. My name is Poppy.”
Helen waved goodbye to Nora and Maeve and wiggled her fingers to Simon. “Come along, Grayson.” She swept out of the lodge in a cloud of musky perfume.
Grayson moved off and passed Nora. “I can’t say it’s been much fun, Nora.”
“As Judy Holliday said in
Born Yesterday
, ‘Likewise, I’m sure.’” Beside her, Maeve giggled.
Grayson threw them a dirty look and moved off stiffly. At the taxi, his mother pointed to the front seat. He sat with the driver, and Helen slid into the back beside Fiona. The first taxi roared off.
The Dentons arrived, and shook hands with Simon. Lydia stuffed a handful of Ramsey Lodge brochures into her purse. “For our friends, Simon. You run a wonderful place when it’s not inhabited by the likes of us.” She stopped to give Nora a hug. “Enjoy that baby; he’s precious.”
“I know, Lydia,” Nora assured her. She was surprised when Rupert turned to Poppy, waiting at the door.
“All right, Poppy?” He ushered the two women to the second taxi, helped Lydia in and then Poppy, who sat wedged between them, a huge smile on her face.
“I’m relieved to see them go.” Simon stood beside the two women. “Looks like Poppy’s been adopted.”
“A rat deserts a sinking ship, and Grayson’s has already sunk.” Maeve was in rare form.
Nora had another view. “The Dentons are a much better alliance for her than Grayson Lange could ever be.”
“End of a chapter. Props to wrap.” Simon moved off with Maeve.
Nora lingered in the doorway. Sunny daffodils that had braved the flood waved in a faint breeze. She felt a trill of excitement mixed with nervousness for the future.
She felt closer to Declan than ever, but what if she drove him crazy? There were so many unknowns when what she most wanted to feel was—serene, yes, that’s the word she searched for. Joyful, too, was part of what she longed for when she thought of being with Declan. She’d seen flashes of that joy already in their intimacy, in his acceptance of Sean. But she knew she couldn’t control all the events of her life. Real life was raw and gritty, sometimes filled with indecision, hurt and pain that balanced its sweetness.
She walked a few steps down the drive and looked at the lake and at the host of white sails that tacked back and forth across it. The steamer left on its ride to Ambleside. The white and green shops along the quay were open and drew a brisk business on this sunny spring weekend after the flooding.
Nora felt surrounded by nature. A ring of mauve around the edges of cottony clouds tempered the clear blue of the water and the sky. She knew with certainty that her stay at this lovely place would soon draw to its close.
In the distance, the horizon shimmered, an antique-penny-postcard kind of view. As Nora turned back to the lodge to help the others pack up the props, she remembered a line from Thomas Gray’s poem: “And all the air a solemn stillness holds … ”
The poem was “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,” and Nora had a sudden vision of Burt Marsh lying grief stricken under the ancient yew tree. His loneliness had driven him to horrendous acts. To thrive in this life, we need to feel connected, whether it is to a partner or a child, a relative or even a good friend. We need others to share our journey, to enrich our lives. It kept the loneliness at bay. It kept us from committing unspeakable acts.
*
5:15 PM
Nora emptied the dishwasher in the lodge kitchen and ruminated on her meeting tomorrow with the solicitor while Simon drew on graph paper. Agnes had gone home after lunch and would have a few days off. Maeve had left to take Callie and her brother home after a productive day. Best of all, Declan was on his way back from Kendal.
The rental company would arrive in the morning. All of the props were packed against the walls, except the chandelier and its parts that were in police custody. The risers were undone, and the chairs stacked. With the younger helpers gone, the lodge seemed quiet and almost peaceful.
“Nora, take a look at this.” Simon pushed his pad toward her, and she dried her hands on a towel. “It’s a new seating plan for the drawing room, incorporating a few pieces Kate found and is shipping back.”
Nora scrutinized the plan that had conversational groupings and allowed for the inclusion of a new sideboard and several new chairs. She knew Kate had phoned, and Simon had spent a long time out on the patio, talking to her. She’d seen his arms gesticulating while he’d explained the events of the previous week.
“It looks great. More seating with a lakeside view now.” She folded her towel. “How did Kate take the news?”
Simon pulled the pad back toward him. “Amazingly well. Agreed with me about closing until she gets back, didn’t blink an eye. She said the drawing room needed remodeling, and we’d wipe out any traces in people’s memory of the aborted performance.” He shook his head. “She seemed almost excited to have a decorating project.”
Nora laughed. “It’s what she does best. Good for her and good for you, too.”
He brushed his hair off his forehead. “Last night, I almost wanted this damn place to stay closed, but now, with a break and a new look—”
The back door opened, and Darby scampered in, followed by Maeve carrying a loaded basket. The terrier leapt at Nora and Simon until he tired of their petting and trotted to his bed by the stove to plunk himself down with a satisfied sigh.
“He’s happy to be home.” Nora smiled but at the same time felt a pang, missing Sean. Would he have noticed she wasn’t around? She couldn’t wait until Tuesday to drive to Oxford with Declan to pick him up. They’d stay in Oxford for a few days, and Val would drive her back at the weekend. She could handle a few days away herself, and with Declan in Oxford, it would be interesting to see the town from his perspective.
Maeve unpacked loaves of crusty bread, cheeses and mixed olives. “There’s plenty for four, so forage later, Nora. Simon and I are having a picnic in his room.” She held up several bottles of pinot noir. “I’ll leave you one of these, too.”
Simon looked up. “We are?”
Maeve had a mischievous glint to her smile. “We most certainly are.”
Nora laughed at Maeve’s expression. “Thanks, but Declan said something about dining alfresco on the heated roof terrace of Porto Restaurant.”
“Suit yourselves.” Maeve beckoned Simon. “Show me your plans.” She gathered half the supplies, and Simon picked up the wine and his pad and followed her out.
Minutes later, Nora luxuriated in the shower, taking her time. She primped and dried the moistness out of her hair, then piled it on top of her head, curls spilling down. She scrutinized her reflection. She hoped it looked artfully messy.
The bathroom mirror kept steaming up, and she cracked her bedroom door to clear it faster. Wrapped in her robe, she opened the armoire that held her clothes, brought out the teal silk dress she’d been saving and hung it on the door. The salesgirl had promised it brought out the green in her eyes. Now which shoes … ?
“I like what you’re wearing better.” Declan leaned against the doorjamb.
Nora whirled around. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
In an instant, he was next to her and gathered her up in his arms. He kissed her neck, and she reached up to pull his head down for a real kiss. The ring of her mobile sang, and she sagged against him and groaned.
“Better answer it.” Declan’s voice was husky. He closed the bedroom door with his foot.
Nora picked up her phone from the night table. Val. She croaked a hello.
“Just wanted you to know my godson is an absolute delight and there’s no need for you to rush here on Tuesday. We’re having friends in tonight … ”
Nora listened to Val’s plans and how everyone fussed over Sean. Declan slid the robe from her shoulders; it fell in a puddle at her feet. He left a trail of kisses up and down her exposed neck. She shivered and pressed back into him.
“Have fun, then, tonight.” Nora bit back a gasp as Declan’s hands encircled her breasts. “I’ll call you after the solicitor leaves, all right?”
“Sure. Tell Declan I said hello and he’s welcome.” Val rang off with a throaty laugh.
“She’s a witch, I swear.” Nora turned to face him. “Are we going to make that dinner reservation?”
“I certainly hope not.” He grinned and lifted her onto the bed. “There’s always tomorrow.”