Laura Possessed (10 page)

She pushed back her heavy hair and reached for it, with the half-formed hope that it might be Lewis, but the brisk masculine voice said succinctly, ‘Caroline? Richard. How's Laura?'

‘Laura?' She was still struggling free of the last strands of sleep. ‘Much the same as when you last phoned. Up and down.'

‘Um. Okay if Gilly and I descend on you for the weekend?'

‘Oh—I—yes, of course.' As long as she could lose them tomorrow morning. Tomorrow—Richard was talking and she forced herself to attend.

‘. . . so we can be with you around six.'

She frowned, having lost the thread. ‘This evening?'

‘Most assuredly this evening. And by the way, don't worry about making up two beds—
we
shan't use them. 'Bye, Caroline, see you later.' The phone clicked in her ear. Slowly she replaced the receiver and lay back again. Damn Richard! Why should he be so free when everyone else was bogged down with some responsibility or other? Bogged down? She? In view of what she was planning? She stared resentfully at the ceiling. She was conventional enough to have the prospect of her affair with Lewis marred by the voice of conscience and fleetingly envied Richard his apparent lack of it.

She swung her feet to the floor and stretched luxuriously, mentally going over the planned weekend meals in view of the additions to the household. She would go into Ledbrook this morning and do most of the weekend shopping, leaving only a few things over for tomorrow, to serve as an excuse to get out of the house to meet Lewis.

Laura was still at the breakfast table when she reached the dining-room. Caroline sat down and poured herself a cup of black coffee. ‘And how are you today?'

‘All right, thanks.'

‘No ill effects after your tiring afternoon?'

‘No. How's Peter?'

‘He seems all right. He's curled up on his bed with a comic. By the way, that was Richard on the phone. He and his—girl are coming for the weekend.'

Laura's face lit up. ‘Oh, lovely! What time
will
they get here?'

‘About six, he said. I must get Mrs. Baines to air the bed.' She sipped her coffee. ‘What's all this about your writing Lewis's biography?'

Laura's eyes shot to her face. ‘How did you hear about that?'

Damn, damn, damn! ‘I had to go out last night and happened to bump into him with his friend.'

‘Harry Tait. Yes, they were together in Biafra a few years ago. In fact, Lewis saved his life.'

‘Really? Did he tell you that?'

She looked vaguely puzzled. ‘I suppose he must have done.'

‘It wasn't mentioned last night, but I dare say it's hardly the thing that comes up in ordinary conversation. Tell me, what made you pick on Lewis?'

Laura smiled slightly at her choice of words. ‘I think it was actually Edward who suggested him when I first said I was thinking of basing the book on a central character who'd come up against a lot of violence. Then, when I looked through Lewis's scrapbook yesterday, it all seemed to come so fantastically alive—almost as though I'd been there myself and could recognize different scenes. I knew then that it was something I had to do. The worst part was trying to convince Lewis!'

‘I can imagine,' Caroline said drily. ‘And when do you propose to start work?'

‘Probably
tomorrow, I think.'

‘Tomorrow?' The word jolted out of her in alarmed surprise.

‘Oh, of course, I can't now, with Richard and Gilly coming.'

‘Did Lewis suggest tomorrow?' Caroline enquired carefully.

‘Yes, he said Harry would have gone by then. I'll have to let him know.'

Caroline went on drinking her coffee, her mind churning. He must have forgotten all about the arrangement when he suggested she should also go round. How cozy it would have been if both she and Laura had turned up on his doorstep! Fortunately Laura would not now be going, but she didn't intend to let her visitors stand in her own way.

They arrived, breezy and unapologetic, at eight o'clock, thereby ensuring that the dinner had dried up in the oven. Caroline bit back what she considered her fully justified annoyance and welcomed them civilly but Richard, putting her gently to one side, went straight to his sister. He took both her hands and studied her face anxiously.

‘Laurie! All right, honey? You don't look all that good.'

‘I'm all right. It's lovely to see you again. And Gilly.' She smiled across at the slight, red haired girl. Really, Caroline thought in exasperation, where does he find them? Gillian was wearing a curious full-length dress
in
browns and oranges and a selection of beads and bangles. Her hair gave the impression of having been absent-mindedly chewed by a succession of hairdressers, since it was layered all the way down the back of her head, finishing in a wispy straggle below her shoulders. The fact that the whole incongruous mixture added up to an effective and attractive whole Caroline could hardly deny, but she resented the casualness of the girl, which made her own tailored linen seem ultra-smart and sophisticated, as though she and not Gillian were striving to make an impression.

Richard had his arm across Laura's shoulders and was leading her to the sofa. ‘Come and sit down and tell me what you've been doing. Are you sure you're resting enough? Did you go to the doctor with Banstead's note?'

Caroline watched him resignedly. He was, without doubt, the best-looking of the three brothers, with wide candid eyes beneath straight brows and a firm, sensitive mouth. His toffee-coloured hair was midway between the dark brown of Edward and the light honey colour of Toby and Laura, but his attractiveness was in his manner as much as his appearance. It was his gift to make every woman, even his sister, feel she was the only one in the world that he cared about. Every woman except Caroline herself. Whether this
was
out of some idea of loyalty to Edward, she had never fathomed, but she always felt a little piqued that he had never, by so much as a flicker of an eye, betrayed any appreciation of her own charms.

He had been a boy of seventeen when she first met the family, two years younger than herself, but the fresh-faced charm that made women love him had been apparent even then. Caroline would willingly have entered into the half-bantering, half-flirtatious relationship which could be enjoyed innocently enough between brother and sister-in-law, but to her secret chagrin Richard had shown no inclination other than to accept her as Edward's fiancée and then wife. He had treated her from the first with an off-hand politeness which baffled and needled her.

‘I'm afraid we really must go and eat now,' she said. ‘The meal has been ready since half-past seven. I hope it will be all right.'

‘Oh, we're used to eating cinders!' Richard remarked casually from the sofa. ‘Gilly doesn't profess to be a cook, do you, love? Everything's either burnt or half-raw. I've always said I must have a cast-iron stomach!'

‘Well, for those of us who haven't,' said Caroline tightly, ‘let's go in to dinner.'

Mrs. Baines had had a word or two to say to Caroline about the result of the delay on her carefully prepared meal, and Caroline feared that her displeasure, always inescapable once
incurred,
might create an uncomfortable atmosphere when she brought in the dinner. She had reckoned without her brother-in-law.

‘Hello, Bainsy! You're not going to be cross with us for being late, are you?'

‘It's not my place to be cross, Mr. Richard,' she replied severely, but her eyes were beginning to twinkle.

‘That's my girl!' and the preposterous Richard leant forward and kissed her soundly on her smooth round cheek.

‘Really, Mr. Richard! Away with you!'

But Caroline had seen the genuine affection in the glance which followed him as he laughingly joined them at the table.

Laura, whose usually pale cheeks were flushed with pleasure, was only picking at her food and Caroline noted both the guests watching her anxiously. She felt unaccountably criticized, as though she personally should have seen to it that Laura's appetite had improved before this.

‘We'll have coffee in the sitting-room; it's more comfortable,' she remarked at the end of the meal.

‘If you don't mind,' Laura murmured, ‘I think I'll go straight upstairs. I'm feeling a little tired.'

‘May I come up in a few minutes and sit with you for a while?' Gillian asked. ‘I won't stay long, but we've not had a chance for a chat yet.'

Laura
smiled at her. ‘Do—I'd love that.'

Edward led the way across the hall. ‘I thought it might be an idea to drive out to the Inchcape for lunch tomorrow and spend the afternoon in that area. It's a long time since we've had a day out.'

‘I won't be free in the morning,' Caroline said, her voice a fraction higher than usual. Why the hell did he—?

‘Oh? Why? What's on?'

‘Well, the shopping, for one thing.'

‘I thought you said you'd been into Ledbrook today?'

‘I did, but there are still a few things—'

‘A few things are no problem. We can pick them up before we go or on the way back. Don't be a spoil-sport, Caro. I thought you'd be glad to have one less meal to worry about.'

‘Well, personally, I think it sounds a marvellous idea,' Richard said lazily, settling himself in an easy chair. ‘I'm all for short, concentrated doses of country air, provided they're not too frequent!'

Fuming inwardly, Caroline took the coffee tray from Mrs. Baines. Something always seemed to come up to prevent her going to the cottage, almost as though the family knew about her obsession with Lewis and was determined to keep her from him. Like a continuation of her fancy, Richard leant back in his chair, crossed one leg high over the other, and said without preamble, ‘Now tell
me—who
the devil is Lewis Castleton?'

It was so apposite that Caroline's hand shook involuntarily as she poured the coffee and it spilt on the silver tray. She bent forward hastily to mop it up with her handkerchief, screening her burning cheeks.

Edward was saying easily, ‘A chap I know. Why?'

‘Apparently Laura's set her heart on writing his biography.'

‘No! Caro, did you know about this?'

She wasn't to be trapped a second time. ‘She did mention it, over breakfast,' she murmured truthfully.

‘What's he like?' Richard pursued.

‘Oh, pleasant enough, I think. Restless kind of a chap—never seems able to relax. I don't know much about him, except that he used to live in this house.'

‘Really? What an extraordinary coincidence! You don't think Laura's going to fall for him or anything, do you?'

Caroline tasted the spurt of warm blood on her tongue.

‘My God, I hope not! Whatever gave you that idea?'

‘Just something about the way she speaks of him—it's not easy to pinpoint.'

‘For one thing, he's far too old for her. I must say this has all come as a complete surprise. I had the distinct impression that she didn't like him. In fact, I almost fancied she
was
afraid of him at one time.'

‘Afraid?'

‘It sounds idiotic, doesn't it, and obviously I was wrong or she wouldn't be contemplating doing his life story.'

Richard was frowning as he stirred his coffee. ‘She told me she hadn't liked him at first, but then she added that since he agreed to let her write the book, she's felt happier than she's ever been before. You know, Edward, there's something about this whole business that I don't much care for. I can't put my finger on it, but she's—different, somehow.'

‘If you ask me,' Caroline put in jerkily, ‘I think she's psychic or something. That night Lewis came for dinner—'

‘Oh, for God's sake, Caroline!' Edward exclaimed impatiently. ‘Don't bring up all that rigmarole again!'

Richard leant forward. ‘What rigmarole? I'd like to hear.' He fixed his clear, impersonal gaze on Caroline and even then, confused and upset as she was, a part of her registered and resented his indifference. In as few words as possible she told him, almost sulkily, about Laura's conviction that she'd seen a child upstairs and the conversation which followed at dinner. Then, with a defiant glance at Edward, she mentioned the episode about the trees in the garden.

Richard sat motionless for some time after
she'd
finished, staring down into his empty coffee cup. At last he said, ‘Doesn't it strike you that there may be some odd kind of link between them?'

‘Link?' Caroline repeated sharply.

Edward said, ‘Now for heaven's sake, Richard, don't start working out one of your complicated plots round all this. Young Denver had a perfectly reasonable theory to explain the tree bit, though I can't for the moment remember what it was, and as for the rest—well, she's tired and run-down and she overreacts, that's all.'

‘And what is it she overreacts to?'

‘Hell, I don't know! Atmosphere, attitudes—'

‘Let's get it straight. According to Laura, the boy had actually done what this Lewis bloke had himself done on the same night thirty years before. J. B. Priestley, here we come!'

‘It does sound a bit odd, put like that, but—'

‘And the fact that he lived in this house, I think, is very relevant.'

‘How do you mean?'

‘Well, he actually remembered the trees. Therefore that part could have been unconscious telepathy. In the other instance, it is more as though—and I admit this sounds way out—as though
she
reminded
him
about it.'

‘That's ridiculous!' Edward said, but there
was
a note of hesitancy in his voice. ‘And I don't see how it could have been telepathy, either, since at that stage they hadn't even met.'