Laura Possessed (21 page)

‘Yes. Well, that might be your reaction.'

She smiled faintly. ‘Poor Lewis, you do have trouble with your women!'

‘It was still Noel when we first came out
here,
wasn't it?'

‘Who kissed you? Of course.'

‘Do you mind her using you like that?'

‘No, because by that time she was thinking for me, so I felt as she did.'

‘And now? Suppose I were to kiss you now?'

She said slowly, ‘
I'm
not in love with you, if that's what you're asking.'

He leant forward, staring down at the grass between his feet. ‘Has it ever occurred to you—?'

‘That she wants you to marry me?'

He was watching her without moving. ‘Yes. I wasn't sure if you realized that.'

‘Surely it wouldn't be possible anyway? I mean, her husband's still alive.'

‘But she isn't! Lord, what a mess!'

‘If I married you, Lewis, it would be the end of me.' She smiled at the expression on his face. ‘I mean just that. She would take over completely. I—couldn't.'

He said quietly, ‘We'll give it time. You might change your mind.'

‘You mean
she
might change it.' She looked across at him curiously. ‘Do
you
want to marry me?'

‘I don't know, Laura. As you say, it would really be Noel—'

‘So you do. I sometimes feel I no longer have any choice, that between you, you and Noel—'

‘Hush, sweetheart.' He covered her
fluttering
hands with his own, and immediately they quietened. ‘Don't you personally feel anything for me at all?'

‘I don't know what I feel any more. Yes, I suppose in a way I do. I certainly feel more complete when you're there, even when Noel isn't dominant, though I guess it's still due to her influence.' She gave a little half-laugh and glanced at him shyly. ‘To be honest, I rather think I was a little bit jealous of Caroline myself at dinner!'

His hand tightened on hers. ‘You needn't be. I can't deny that I find her extremely attractive, but it's a purely physical thing. I never pretended otherwise.'

‘Whereas with Noel it's purely emotional?'

‘Not when she's using you.'

She digested that in silence. He persisted, ‘And your response wasn't wholly emotional either, was it?'

‘It was her response.'

‘But your body.'

Her hands clenched. ‘It's as I thought, then. She won't be content with taking over my mind, she needs my body too. Permanently.'

He said sharply, ‘Laura—don't!'

She didn't seem to hear him. ‘She's probably realized it already. I shall have to be on my guard the whole time—even when I'm asleep, if that's possible.' She turned back to him, eyes dilated in her frightened face. ‘Hold me, Lewis! Please hold me!'

He
dropped onto the grass beside her and gathered her into his arms and after a few minutes she relaxed a little. He kissed her gently and though she trembled, she made no other response. Noel had not returned. He stood up, drawing her to her feet.

‘It's time I went. You're exhausted and so am I. Come with me while I say good-bye to Caroline and you can tell Noel she has nothing to fear there.'

Caroline was sitting at the desk in the sitting-room, the light from the lamp above her burnishing her hair to strands of gold. She looked up and something in her eyes told Laura that she had witnessed their embrace.

‘Thank you for the meal, Caroline. It was excellent, as always. Laura and I are both in need of an early night, so I'm going now. Give my regards to Edward.'

Caroline said levelly, ‘I see you had a choice of dessert after all.'

Laura glanced from one to the other, sensing the undercurrent between them without quite understanding it.

‘As you say.'

‘I must confess, Lewis, that I'm full of admiration for your adaptability!' There was a brittle note in her voice which jarred on Laura's ears, making her wonder if Lewis had been less than truthful in his assessment of the situation between them. She felt his arm tense about her shoulders before he dropped it
abruptly,
and his face had flushed a dark red.

‘Perhaps you'll excuse me? Don't see me to the door. I'll walk back along the terrace. Sleep well, Laura.'

He nodded briefly in Caroline's direction and was gone. The sound of his footsteps reached them clearly, and the slam of the car door. A moment later the engine roared and then merged with the more distant traffic noise out on the road. Caroline sat doodling on the blotter, but there were angry spots of colour on her cheeks.

‘I think I'll make myself a cup of hot milk,' Laura murmured awkwardly. ‘Can I get you anything?'

‘No, thank you.'

The kitchen was warm and dark, hung about with memories of the evening meal. The pungent smell of the crabs rose from their empty shells in the bin and the sweet, strong fragrance of the strawberries still clung to the discarded baskets. As Laura measured milk into a saucepan, her tired mind went back over the momentous happenings of the day, Lewis's account of the events leading up to Noel's death and, later, to Clive Sandilands'.

She shivered, watching the warm milk begin to cream round the edges of the pan. She had told Paul she felt partly responsible for Sandilands' death before; now, guilt lay heavily upon her. But there was nothing to be gained by trying to apportion blame. Her destiny had
already
been entwined with that of Noel and Lewis and she was powerless even then to break the threads. The web of involvement went right back in time beyond the accident in which her mother was killed and which had been directly responsible for her coming to Four Winds. Even before that, the name of this house had been enough to send a cold prickle up her spine, as though her subconscious had always been aware of what lay in wait for her.

With a frothing rush the milk rose in a white flood and she snatched it off the flame and poured it into the mug. A little reluctantly she carried it back to the sitting-room. Although uncomfortably aware of Caroline's hostility, she had no wish for the moment to go to her room. Noel might be waiting for her and she hadn't the strength to deal with her yet. She was still perturbed by the pathological intensity of her jealousy towards Caroline that evening.

The French windows had been left open, but now the garden beyond them was dark and full of shadows. Caroline still sat in her little pool of lamplight, head bent over the desk as she wrote her weekly letter to her children at boarding school. Another month and they would be home for the summer holidays.

Laura dropped into the sofa and sipped the hot milk cautiously. Edward and Caroline, Richard and Gillian, Toby and Janet, Paul. All
of
them, in their own ways, concerned about her, anxious for her well-being, all of them powerless to help her. Had she the strength to help herself? Lewis, certainly, could not be depended on. Laura was in no doubt which of them he wanted.

Caroline said without turning, ‘I thought you wanted an early night?'

‘Yes, I'll go up now. Shall I shut the windows?'

‘If you like. I'll lock up in a few minutes, when I've finished writing to Helen.'

‘Give her my love.' She moved across and pulled the glass doors shut, sliding the bolts into place.

‘There's no need to draw the curtains. I shan't be long.'

Laura stooped to retrieve the empty mug from the floor by the sofa and her dress brushed against the vase of flowers standing in the grate. They made an effective splash of bright colour against the biscuit-coloured stone of the fireplace. She bent forward and brushed the petals she had dislodged behind the vase.

‘Good night, Caroline.'

‘Good night.'

Edward and Caroline's door stood open as Laura passed, the counterpane neatly folded and the bed turned down invitingly by Mrs. Baines. She reached her own room and slowly started to undress. The tiredness which had
attacked
her downstairs was now so powerful she could scarcely drag her feet across the floor. At last she was able to let herself drop on the bed and thankfully close her eyes.

She must have slept, but suddenly she was wide awake. The moon poured a silver cascade of light onto the bed, bleaching the rose pink blankets to pearly grey. Without warning, she was gripped by fierce, choking rage which pumped through her like adrenalin as her mind fumbled helplessly to remember what had so upset her.

Caroline. Caroline and Lewis. A series of still pictures flicked through her head: Lewis leaning into Caroline's car when he first arrived, his hand possessively on her arm, and the two of them at dinner, acutely conscious of each other and of her not at all. What right had Caroline, with her own husband and children, to encroach on Lewis, who was and always had been hers alone? She must be taught a lesson.

She raised her head suddenly, remembering another picture the evening had left imprinted on her mind: the huge vase of flowers, the hearth where the splashes of fallen petals lay, and the brush she had used to sweep them away and then replaced beside the poker.

Without being aware of movement, her hands were turning the doorknob. Beyond, the sleeping house lay bathed in the silver light which streamed through its uncurtained
windows.
Edward was away. Caroline was alone.

On soundless feet she almost floated down the wide staircase. The moonlight was sufficient for her to see the dark shapes lying where she had left them in the hearth. The chrome handle of the poker was cold to her sleep-warmed hand. She gripped it, balanced it, and started back up the stairs filled with the excitement of revenge. Lewis had betrayed her, but Caroline's seductive glances were to blame.

Caroline's door was shut now, but it opened silently beneath her fingers and at last she was standing by the bed looking down at her as she lay sleeping, the glorious colour drained from her hair by the half-darkness. Caroline—

But Edward—what would he say when he returned tomorrow?

Hurry—don't hesitate now! It needn't be too hard a blow—just one satisfying swipe on that beautiful, complacently sleeping face.

But surely, didn't Lewis say—?

Lewis will understand. Hit her now, quickly, before she wakes!

No!
No, Noel! Stop it! For God's sake, wait! He told me to tell you—

Hit her! Hit her!

No! She gave a sharp, distressed little cry as she wrestled with the force that was threatening to overpower her. Noel, listen! There's nothing between them—not any more!
Really!
He told me to tell you!'

Nothing? But—I saw them!

Shaking violently in every limb, she seized the opportunity of Noel's sudden uncertainty to regain control, gazing with growing horror from the weapon in her hand to her still sleeping sister-in-law. Dear God, what was she doing?

The poker slipped in her nerveless fingers and she grabbed frantically for it before it could fall with a thud and wake Caroline. She just managed to catch hold of it, but it was slipping about now in the sweat on her palms. In fact, sweat was cascading down her whole body in cold rivulets and still the convulsive shaking rattled every bone. She thrust her tongue between her chattering teeth to still their noise, and the blood spurted hotly.

Stumblingly she turned and fled back down the wide stairs, dropping the poker into place with a clatter she was sure must rouse the house and wiping her sticky hands down her nightdress as though Caroline's blood was indeed on them. Then, from one second to the next, her desperate energy drained away and she almost fell. Inch by inch she went back up the endless staircase, dragging herself by the banisters while tears of weakness and fright mingled with the sweat on her face. It seemed an eternity before she reached her room. She sank down beside the bed, arms spread over it in helpless supplication, and gradually the
horrible
spasms which were tormenting her lessened and she was able to haul herself up onto the bed.

Noel, you might have killed her!
I
might have killed her! And the sullen, half-frightened response: You should have told me. She put a hand across her eyes to press down the lids and will sleep to come and blot out the memory of what had happened. If Noel was as strong as this, what hope had she of ever escaping her?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The following day, Laura was limp and weak with a raging fever. Dr. MacIntyre, summoned hastily by Caroline, diagnosed a virus infection which, Laura thought with hysterical inner laughter, was a new way to describe Noel. There were medicines and pills to be taken four-hourly, and everyone assured her she would be feeling much better soon. But would she, or would she finally topple over the edge of normality into the waiting abyss of Noel? And, if this should happen, would she even be aware of it? Would anyone else, except Lewis? Noel was certainly clever enough to adapt slightly, to mask the period of transition by adopting some of Laura's own mannerisms so that she herself would remain undetected.

Throughout
the day she lay back on her pillows, too spent to lift a hand unnecessarily and periodically drenched with weakening sweat. She could hardly bear to look at Caroline, who anxiously brought her a succession of cold drinks, obviously at a loss to understand the suddenness of the attack or the apparent agitation her own presence seemed to bring.

Eventually, with evident pangs of conscience, Caroline sat down beside the bed and began diffidently, ‘Laura, I hope you didn't put too much importance on the rather stupid way Lewis and I were behaving last night.'

Laura bit her lip and turned her head away, and Caroline, thinking she had found at least one source of her sister-in-law's distress, went on awkwardly, ‘It was only a kind of game, you know. After all, when you've been married for sixteen years or so, it's rather a temptation to find out if you're still attractive to other men.'