Death of a Stranger (11 page)

“Dear God,'' Tim moaned, but Anna was watching Lorna's face and seeing in every straining muscle the evidence that she would be unable to rest until she had had her say.

“Look, Tim.'' She got to her feet and stood in front of him, forcing his pacing to a stop and putting her hands on his arms. “It looks to me as if your mother has got to do this.''

“
Et tu, Brute
!''

“No. Listen. I can understand.''

“But we don't know that Constance was driving that car. As you've kept on telling me.''

“All right.'' She put aside for the moment the fact that he had never before spoken to her sarcastically. “But that's not how your mother sees it. She's convinced it was Constance—''

“Of course it was Constance!'' Lorna moved towards them, away from the support of her chair, and Anna took her arm as unobtrusively as possible. “Thank you, Anna, you
do
understand.'' The dazzle of Lorna's smile was fully restored. “ I have to have my say, and I have to have it now.''

“Yes. Will you let me drive you?''

“For God's sake!'' Tim hit his head against a wall.

“And go in with you? As far as Constance Lorimer is concerned I'm neutral, I won't affect your confrontation.''

“Yes!'' Lorna said promptly. “If it's the only way I can get you to take me.''

Tim was pacing again, and Anna held out her other hand and seized him by the arm as he was striding past. “ It'll be all right,'' she said, as she strengthened her grip. “And we might learn something from Mrs Lorimer's reactions.''

Tim ceased to strain against Anna's grasp, in his face, suddenly, the brooding concentration she had noted before when he was contemplating a possible work breakthrough. “We just might, yes …'' he murmured. “ If you'll stay with her,'' he ended severely. Anna suspected him of chastising himself without knowing it for having briefly forgotten that he was personally involved in the problem he was facing.

“Of course.''

“All right, then. But I'm not happy.''

“I think it's more important, at this moment, for your mother to do what makes
her
happy. I'm sorry, Tim,'' Anna continued swiftly, as she saw the disgruntled surprise in his face. And perhaps she
had
been paying him back even while saying what she believed. “But if Lorna doesn't go and see Mrs Lorimer I don't think she'll be able to put all this behind her.''

“That's it precisely. You're a jewel, Anna.'' Lorna kissed Anna's cheek, then stroked Tim's arm. “It'll be all right, darling. Try not to worry so much.''

“Easier said than done.'' But resignation was now apparent in Tim's every line. “At least try to be careful what you say. Especially if Beth Smith or someone's there who can be a witness to an outright accusation.''

“It'll be all right, Tim.'' Anna was shocked to find herself afraid as she took Tim's hand that it might repulse hers, and it was a relief when it responded and his fingers meshed with hers.

“You're not leaving, Lorna!''

Simon Shaw was in the doorway, and Tim's hand convulsed.

“Only temporarily, Simon. I'm going to visit Constance Lorimer, as I told you I would.''

This time Tim's hand clenched so strongly round his wife's that she murmured a protest. But she had understood: Tim's mother had told her boyfriend what she had not told him, and the painful gesture was a reflex response to his hurt and anger.

Tim understood his reaction, too, and was shocked by it. “I'm sorry, darling,'' he murmured in response.

“It's all right.'' In a rare public gesture, Anna rubbed her cheek against his. “And it'll be all right if I'm with her.''

“Maybe.'' Tim turned to Simon. “Anna's taking Lorna to Mrs Lorimer. I'm sorry your visit has to be so short.'' He didn't like himself for enjoying saying that, either. And he didn't like the sudden recollection that his new sourness had come upon him since he had become a married man. The moment his mother was safely off to England he and Anna must be off to Scotland.

O
ne or two white puffs of cloud were hanging now in the blue sky, but the sun still shone as serenely as it had shone all day, and as they turned north on to the coast road to wind their way up to St Sampson Anna's spirits lifted as they lifted inevitably whenever she reached the sea. She could be apprehensive about a professional visit, afraid of what she might find or what she might have to do, but sight of the sea, never more than moments away in whichever direction she drove and presenting an infinity of aspects, filled her always with elation, whatever she was dreading. Even the prospect of her present destination, and her alarmingly uncertain role when she reached it, failed to arrest the leap of her heart when suddenly before them was the blue-grey water stretching out of sight to a hazy horizon, shot with silver where the sun caught its lazy wavelets. On this eastern stretch of coast between Guernsey's two towns it was a pale backdrop to business, most of its boundary with the land marked by austere stone wall, rather than the royal-blue plaything it would be today in the west …

“She'll be drinking tea,'' Lorna was saying, yawning and stretching, then grunting with pain as her injuries reminded her of their existence. “The bitch,'' she added between her teeth as she looked down at her bandaged leg. “She always had tea at four o'clock, with a gipsy cream or a bourbon. When we got to England Geoffrey said he never wanted to see a standard sweet biscuit again. A creature of habit, Constance. Well, she won't be able to make a habit of driving her car at me because I won't be around.'' But Lorna sighed, not sounding as satisfied as her words made out. “This island is rather special, though, isn't it?''

“I wouldn't want to live anywhere else, now. Friends from England say they can't understand why I don't feel claustrophobic, living on a piece of land seven miles long by four miles wide, and I say how could I, only a few minutes in every direction from infinite space. You're a Guern, Lorna. Do you really not miss it?''

“Of course I miss it. Part of me will always belong here. But I had to go, once, and now I couldn't come back.''

“Your son's here.''

Lorna gave a strange little laugh, evoking another grunt of pain. “Yes. But there are – things – in England I wouldn't want to leave. Anna …''

“Yes?''

“Take the next turning left, dear. I'll need to direct you from now on.'' Anna suspected that directions were not what Lorna a moment earlier had set out to give her. “It's not a bad road,'' Lorna said grudgingly, after their third turn, “ but then of course it was Geoffrey who chose the house. And bought the period contents, which he told me amused him at the time. And I imagine it avoided a lot of rows, Constance has no aesthetic sense. I don't suppose he envisaged them still being in place another thirty years on, but I shan't be surprised if they are. Not that I can make comparisons, this will be the first time I've set foot in the house. Anna!'' Lorna said with sudden sharpness. “Pull up here for a moment. I want a few deep breaths.''

“A few second thoughts?''

“Certainly not. I'm going to confront Constance Lorimer.''

“Why did Geoffrey marry her?'' Even allowing for Lorna's inevitable prejudice, Anna had heard nothing positive about Constance as a wife from anyone else who had spoken of her, and a sudden sharp curiosity overcame the shortness of her acquaintance with her mother-in-law as well as her native diffidence.

“Why do you think?'' The scornful rhetoric, too resonant for the confined space, reminded Anna that before marrying Tim's father Lorna had been briefly on the stage. “ She told him she was pregnant and he believed her. How he ever … Well, it was on a plate, of course, and he was young and society then made it difficult for the young unmarried to get sex. Geoffrey was an honourable man, Anna, it's important for me that you as well as Tim should believe that, and he married her. There was no pregnancy, of course. I don't think there ever had been. She couldn't even give him a baby.''

“So it wasn't Geoffrey—''

“No!'' Another sharp gesture, another bitten-off yelp of pain. “And you must be thinking it wasn't the action of an honourable man to leave his wife, but she gave him a dog's life. She never wanted to go out, she never interested herself in anything he cared about or did, or cared about or did anything herself, including keeping her house in order and making proper meals. And you don't have to take just my word for that, everyone was sorry for him. Even if he and I hadn't met he'd eventually have had to get away from Constance. Nobody blamed him.'' Lorna had been talking to herself, Anna fancied, seeing the past through the windscreen where her eyes stared unblinking, but now she turned to Anna with an ironic smile. “They blamed
me
though, of course. But then, I had left another good man. Tim's father. The best news I could have had from the island would have been that he had found a good woman. But he never did.'' Lorna sighed again. “I expect you wonder why I left him, don't you? Unless Tim has offered you an explanation.''

“He hasn't. And yes, of course I wonder.''

“I think perhaps we knew each other too well. We were friends when we were children, then I went to England and – and I thought I'd got it all out of my system. But I hadn't, Anna. Between my marriage and meeting Geoffrey there were other men.''

“Tim did hint that much.''

“You know,'' Lorna said lightly, “I sometimes think that if I'd known Geoffrey as a child and met Edward as a woman, it could have happened the other way round.''

“Geoffrey died, didn't he, not long after you went to England?'' Anna asked warily.

“Yes. He had a heart attack. So no doubt Constance thinks of me as a murderer as well as a husband snatcher. Which could just explain what she's tried to do – an eye for an eye.''

“Yes, I can see that. Lorna … Did you never think … Was there never a chance of going back to Tim's father?''

“You can appear diffident,'' Lorna said, turning to smile ironically at Anna. “But you aren't. I thought of it, yes, and perhaps I would have tried if he hadn't died, too, a couple of years later.'' Lorna turned away and pointed through her window. “ Just ahead, that's Beth Smith's house. Now,
she's
been loyal to Constance, I can't think why.''

“Even Constance can't be all bad, Lorna. The house looks nice.'' It was a villa of Tim's vintage, smaller and pink-stuccoed where Tim's was white, and with a deeper and attractively planted front garden.

“Oh, Beth's got style. And she's bright. I can't think why she never found a man. Unless she's not interested in them. I used to wonder sometimes, she always seemed to be so hostile to Geoffrey.''

“Island rumour has it that she's got – a boyfriend.'' Anna had been going to describe him as young, but remembered Simon in time.

“Good luck to her.'' Anna could feel Lorna struggling to pull herself upright. “ Well, we'd better get on with it.''

“You really are sure you want to confront Mrs Lorimer?''

“Of course. I have to let her know what I think of her. And don't tell me please that she's likely to know already. Certain things need restating from time to time. Especially when there's been grievous bodily harm. Oh, Anna!'' Lorna shouted to the back of the house. “I'm so angry! All right, I know how I would have felt if another woman had taken Geoffrey away from
me
– not that any woman could have done – but I'd have got on with things eventually, I wouldn't have brooded my life away and I certainly wouldn't have tried to destroy the woman who had won. Stop by that lamp-post. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to wait outside?'' Lorna asked, as for the second time they slid to a halt.

“I would prefer to, but I'm not going to. You're not well enough yet to stand on your own physically and you don't want to have to collapse into a chair. I won't cramp your style.'' Anna hoped she had not just given an undertaking she would find impossible to honour. “And if Mrs Lorimer brings an action for slander it'll be useful to have an independent record of what was said.''

She
could have said too much. Anna held her breath, but to her relief Lorna threw her an amused glance. “You make it difficult to know how far your tongue is into your cheek, Anna. I admire that. Now, perhaps you'll go round and help me out.''

The process was hampered by Lorna's reaction to the sight of Constance Lorimer's house, a mingling of shock and satisfaction that had her falling back into her seat. “I didn't expect it to be
that
bad,'' she said wonderingly, when she was eventually upright on the pavement and holding Anna's arm. “She can't have done a thing to it since Geoffrey left.''

“It looks like she could be going to pieces,'' Anna responded. “You'll really have to be careful, Lorna.''

“So will you, Anna.'' Lorna gave her a dazzling smile. “Please don't offer me any more advice.''

“I'm sorry.'' She had presumed too much and it was another shock, sharper than the shock of the dilapidated pile in front of them. “Such a lot has happened since we met I keep forgetting I've known you so short a time.''

“Well, that's good.'' To Anna's relief, the hand emerging from the sling across Lorna's chest gave her arm a feeble pat. “I feel the same. That's why I came back on you the way I come back on Tim. Neither of you can tell me what to do about Constance Lorimer. Come on.''

Lorna pulled Anna towards the once black wooden gate, now cracked down one side and off the lower of its two rusty hinges. The short concrete path was cracked too, the fissures marked here and there by growths of weeds which were the only healthy-looking things within sight, and the metal surface of the grid pattern on the two wide curved windows to each side of the scarred front door was more rust than yellow paint. There were putty-coloured pits in the grey pebbledash, and Anna found herself surprised when the old-fashioned stud bellpush evoked a shrill ring from within.