Laura Possessed (27 page)

He hesitated and glanced at Laura. She gave an almost imperceptible nod and he said briefly, ‘Laura dreamt about Castleton a few days before she first met him. In the dream, he called her Noel.'

‘
Before
she met him?' Toby repeated.

Richard said gently, ‘What do you want us to do, Laurie? How can we best help you?'

She lifted her head suddenly. ‘She's coming back! I'm surprised she waited so long. Noel, just a moment—Oh, please!' Her voice rose despairingly and then a tremor passed over her and she freed herself from Paul's tightened hold.

‘I really don't know what all the fuss is about,' she said, and there was a faint but unmistakable American accent in her voice.

The silence which engulfed them was tangible, holding them fast in a total, horrified suspension of belief. ‘Who are you?' Paul demanded urgently. Her eyes rested on him with something like pity. ‘Paul, I'm sorry, really I am, but I did warn you. There can never be anyone but Lewis for me.'

‘And
for Laura?' he whispered.

She opened her eyes very wide. ‘Why, Paul, I'm Laura!' she said, and as her eyes went round their frozen faces, she gave a low laugh of triumph.

Epilogue

Laura

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

During the two weeks she spent at Moorlands, Noel, sensing danger, kept entirely away, and in her absence Laura slowly struggled through to a new understanding. It was very restful to lie back in the narrow bed and look up at the painted blue ceiling, letting the thoughts come and go in her head without worrying how they would seem to other people. The embryo of her love for Paul, free to grow unhampered for the first time, strengthened daily, but it wasn't until almost the end of her stay that she came to realize, with a dizzy sense of overwhelming relief, that in it lay her antidote to Noel. She had as much right as Noel to fight for a love of her own. At last they were on equal ground.

She tried to explain some of this to Edward on his visits. He listened gravely.

‘You're quite sure you're free of her? Permanently, I mean?'

‘Quite, quite sure. I don't know
how
I know, but I do. She'll never be able to come back again.'

‘Then this place really has helped you?'

‘Oh, yes, Edward. It's such a wonderful relief to be able to stop fighting it, just to lie back and let it all come pouring out. The doctors and staff are wonderful, they never so much as raise an eyebrow. Of course, I've no
idea
what conclusions they're coming to about me, but I know in my own mind that the worst is over now. And Paul's letters are a great comfort. He writes every day, you know. The knowledge that he's waiting for me helps enormously.'

‘And what about Lewis? Have you thought what you're going to tell him?'

Her face clouded. ‘I've been trying not to think about that. The difficulty will be in trying to convince him that she really has gone for good. I haven't the strength to face him, Edward. I feel—drained, totally incapable of surviving anything that would involve any effort at all. In fact, I was going to ask if you'd mind if I went straight to Richard's when I leave here after all? Then I could write to Lewis from there and tell him the position. It will take time to live down all the associations Four Winds has had for me, and quite apart from that, I think Caroline deserves a rest. She's been under a strain too.'

‘Yes, apparently she was much more aware of what was going on than I was. I can't imagine why she didn't tell me, except—' He glanced across at her. ‘Well, you've probably realized, living in the same house, that Caro and I have been going through rather a difficult patch. It'll sort itself out, given time.'

It was eventually arranged that Edward should collect her on the Saturday morning. Richard would drive down from London, have
lunch
with them all at Four Winds, and take her back with him. In that way they hoped to get her to London before Lewis learned of her leaving the nursing home. Paul would go straight to London and be waiting for her at Richard's flat rather than give rise to any suspicion by going to meet her at Four Winds. They would spend the Sunday together before he drove back in time for school on the Monday morning.

‘What was the doctor's final verdict on me?' Laura enquired with interest as they drove out of the nursing home gates.

‘A very cautious one, I felt. Jacobson made the point that if he'd merely read your case history, he would probably have been convinced that you were suffering from a paraphrenic illness such as schizophrenia. But having spoken to you, he's satisfied that your attitudes and responses are not those of someone who is mentally ill. All he would say was that your “perceptions appear to be genuine” and that he believes you did actually hear and see what you said you did.'

‘Well, I suppose that's something.'

‘The fact remains, of course, that he can't explain how. We had a rather more general discussion on ESP and the psi factor and he quoted Isaac Newton and Lord knows who else. I can't say it was enlightening but it was certainly interesting.'

Robert and Helen had returned to school
while
she was away and Peter was spending the day with some friends. Richard and Caroline came out to welcome her and they all went in together, but as Laura crossed the threshold, she was conscious of the house seeming to hold its breath. The drama wasn't quite over yet.

Over lunch the others chatted and laughed with the nervous gaiety that comes with relief from strain, but Laura, increasingly aware of some imminent danger, grew more and more silent. At last she pushed her plate away.

‘I'm sorry. I'm too excited to eat. I'll just go up and put a few more things into the case I had with me at Moorlands. I can leave the rest here for now, can't I?'

‘Of course,' Caroline said brightly. ‘Would you like me to come and help you?'

‘No, you finish your lunch. I won't be long.' She picked up her handbag and walked as steadily as she could out of the security of the dining-room and stood for a moment looking up the wide staircase. What was it that was disturbing her so much? She was only aware of a tense, excited feeling of expectancy.

Step by step she went up the stairs, her heart thumping painfully. Would she ever be able to love this house of Edward's as it deserved to be loved, or had Noel's obsessive passion for it spoilt it for her forever?

On the landing she paused again and listened. A burst of laughter reached her from
the
dining-room. In the kitchen, Mrs. Baines had her transistor blaring. Upstairs, all was quiet. It took a considerable effort to propel herself forward to her own room. She opened the door and waited. Everything was as it should be. She took a step inside and as she did so, a hand came over her mouth and Lewis's voice said in her ear, ‘It's all right, sweetheart. I'm sorry I had to frighten you. I wasn't sure who was coming.'

She shook his hand away from her mouth and as she turned to look at him wild, unreasoning fear rushed over her. He was smiling down at her.

‘You didn't really think I'd let them take you away a second time?'

She said numbly, ‘How—how did you—?'

‘It was easy enough. Caroline had just taken young Peter off in the car. I simply walked up the drive and let myself in. Mrs. Baines was closeted in the kitchen and didn't hear a thing. I'd been watching the house for days, of course, and Peter's purposeful removal was the one hint I was waiting for. Look, darling, we'll have to hurry. I parked my car round the corner, down the side road. We'll slip out through the French windows. They won't see us from the dining-room.'

Her mouth was hot and dry, full of heartbeats. ‘Lewis—forgive me. I can't come with you.'

‘Of course you can. Give me your case and
I'll
help you pack. We haven't long. Caroline might come up to see how you're getting on.'

‘Lewis, I'm Laura!'

He paused to glance at her. ‘Yes, at the moment you are. It doesn't matter.'

‘I'll never be Noel again, Lewis.'

He straightened slowly. ‘What did they do to you in that madhouse?'

‘Just helped me to know myself better.'

‘They didn't hurt Noel?'

‘Of course not. She wasn't there.'

A frightened look crossed his face. ‘Laura, hurry—we must get away.'

‘I'm not coming, Lewis,' she said as steadily as her tumultuous pulses would allow.

‘Noel?' His eyes raked agonizingly over her face.

Wordlessly she shook her head.

‘You
are
Noel!' His eyes focussed on her hair, soft round her face, and she saw his anguished doubt. If only one of them would come upstairs—if she could only find some way of attracting their attention—

‘Come along, we're going!' His hand closed over her wrist but she twisted free, backing away from him, and in that moment, unbelievably, something appeared in his hand, something small and black and blunt and ugly. Her eyes dilated in horror, travelling slowly upwards from the weapon to his face. It was glistening with sweat, his eyes wide open and staring. He gave a low, excited laugh.

‘It's
all right, my darling. I shan't hurt you. I knew there was a chance that they wouldn't let you come. I came prepared.'

‘Lewis,' she whispered frantically, backed up against the door. She was still clutching her handbag with both hands in an ineffectual attempt to shield herself from the menace that faced her, while her mind darted round the possibilities of wrenching open the door behind her. But it opened inwards, and before she could make more than one movement, he might—

He said rapidly, ‘This time, my darling, there will be no mistake. We really will go together and no one will ever separate us again.'

She watched, completely paralyzed, as his hand came up.

‘You won't feel a thing, my love.'

She flung herself sideways a fraction too soon and his hand followed her unwaveringly. In a last, instinctive attempt to save herself, she again caught up the leather bag, holding it across her body with both hands, and in the same moment came the shattering jar of impact, all the more terrible for being almost silent. She hurtled backwards and the bag flew out of her hands. As she fell, she heard Lewis's cry—‘Wait for me, Noel!' and another dull explosion as his body crashed to the floor.

There was a searing pain in her left arm and her ankle was twisted beneath her. It occurred
to
her slowly that she was capable of feeling pain, yet surely it wasn't possible that she was still alive? Cautiously she opened her eyes. Above her was the end of the bed, its flowered counterpane trailing on the carpet, and half under it lay the handbag, with a small, powder scorched hole in the middle of it. She stared at it uncomprehendingly and as she did so a coldness, tangible as the touch of a hand, brushed across her face in a gesture of farewell.

With an effort she raised her heavy, aching head, and quickly let it drop again. At her feet Lewis lay, still smiling, a neat hole in his right temple.

‘Oh, God!' she whispered. ‘Oh, God!' How was it that he could possibly have missed her? Impossible that the soft leather of the bag could have deflected the bullet. She reached out a hand, stretching the fingers to the limit and inching her shoulder along the floor until she could touch the strap and draw it towards her.

Inside lay the bullet, harmless and spent beside the shattered silver compact. Noel—Lewis—Always. Tears of grief and weakness filled her eyes. So at the last Noel had saved her after all. She had no further need of her. She had Lewis, which was all she had ever wanted.

Downstairs, at last, a voice called her name, and footsteps came running up the stairs. With
the
mutilated compact tenderly cradled in her hand, she waited for the door to open.

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