House of Echoes (41 page)

Letting herself into the shadowy nave Janet groped for the light switches and made her way towards the vestry. The church was looking good; Michaelmas daisies lasted well, and there were huge displays of them in the chancel and in front of the pulpit. She picked up the heavy brass water jug and began to tour each arrangement. In front of the small brass plaque to Katherine she stopped. Someone had left a bunch of white roses on the ground in front of it. She stared down at it thoughtfully. The church was
open for visitors during the day. Anyone could have done it – so why did she feel suddenly so wary. She eyed the flowers then slowly she backed away.

Between one moment and the next the church had become uncomfortable; there was a strange feeling of hostility where usually she felt nothing but an all-encompassing peace and security. Hastily, with a glance over her shoulder she retraced her steps to the vestry and set the jug on its shelf. Coming out she pulled the door shut and made her accustomed small bow to the altar before walking quickly back down the aisle towards the door at the rear of the church. Four pews from the end she stopped. There was something between her and the door. She blinked. It was a trick of the light, a patch of sunlight thrown unexpectedly through the south windows out of the gloom of the morning onto the old flag stones. It looked like a mist, a slowly spinning mist. She caught hold of the pew end near her and shook her head, disorientated and slightly dizzy. It was moving almost imperceptibly away from the door across the back of the church towards the font, then as she watched it stopped, seemed to hesitate and then changed direction. It was moving east now, up the centre of the aisle towards her.

She took a step backwards and then another, her legs shaking so much they would barely support her. The church seemed very empty, the lights high on the roof beams directed up into the vaulted ceiling, the chancel still in comparative darkness where she hadn’t switched on the other lights. She glanced over her shoulder towards the altar and then turned and ran, skipping round the front of the pews and into the side aisle. The spinning mist seemed to hesitate then it moved on towards the chancel steps. Janet ran on tiptoe down the small side chapel, dodged round the pillar and reached the door.

Grabbing the ring she tried to open it. For a moment in her panic she thought it was locked, wrestling with it desperately, then at last the latch clicked up and she hauled the heavy door open, throwing herself out into the porch. Slamming the door behind her she ran out into the churchyard, taking deep breaths of the cold air.

There was no sunshine. The sky was heavy with cloud. She glanced over her shoulder, almost expecting to see the door opening, but the porch was still; the door remained closed. Head
down, walking as quickly as she could she hurried down the path to her car and climbed in. Slamming down the locks she tried with shaking hand to insert the key in the ignition. After a couple of attempts she managed it and turned it on, revving the engine before shooting the car out onto the road.

Lyn was choosing some cold meats from the delicatessen counter when Janet walked into the shop. She glanced up as the door banged shut and smiled. ‘Tom says he’s hungry enough to eat that horse you gave him.’

‘That hungry, eh?’ Janet ruffled Tom’s hair. Her hand was shaking and she found she was shivering violently. Behind the counter Sally Fairchild glanced up from the meat slicer. ‘You look peaky, Janet. Something wrong?’ She was peeling the ham from the blade onto her polythened palm with a rhythmic hissing sound which had Tom mesmerised.

Janet shook her head. ‘I was up in the church. The door banged. Gave me a fright, that’s all.’

Sally stopped slicing and gave her a long appraising look. ‘Since when did a door banging make you shake like a leaf?’

Janet shrugged. ‘Nerves. Probably too much coffee this morning.’ She gave an unconvincing laugh.

‘You’re getting like Joss.’ Lyn did not make the remark sound like a compliment. ‘You’ll be seeing ghosts round every corner next.’ She turned back to her purchases. ‘That’s plenty, Sal, thanks. And some sausages please. A pound will do.’

‘Where is Joss?’ Janet tried to steady herself with an effort.

‘Still in Paris as far as I know.’

‘Are you up at the house alone?’

The question sounded too urgent.

Lyn frowned. ‘Of course. Why not?’

‘No reason.’ Janet shrugged. ‘I just thought – Lyn, you will be careful, won’t you.’

Lyn turned to face her. ‘Listen. There is nothing wrong with that house now that Joss isn’t there. Do you understand me? Nothing goes wrong. Nothing sinister happens –’ she broke off suddenly, remembering her panic of the night before.

Sally glanced up from the bag into which she was inserting Lyn’s purchases. She caught Janet’s eye.

Janet shrugged. ‘OK. I’m sorry. Just remember I’m there if you need me.’ She turned towards the door.

‘Janet, wait.’ Lyn fumbled in her purse for some money. ‘Look, that was rude of me. But there isn’t anything wrong.’

‘Good.’ Janet stood for a moment, her hands wedged in her pockets looking into Lyn’s eyes. Then she turned to leave. ‘Just remember where I am if you get fed up with your own company.’

Sally was ringing up Lyn’s purchases on the till. She stopped as soon as the door had shut behind Janet. ‘She looked really ragged.’

Lyn nodded. ‘I wonder what happened up there.’

‘Something strange, I’ll be bound. Maybe old Mary is haunting the place already!’ She gave an ostentatious shiver. ‘You are sure you are all right up there, my dear? Nothing would make most of the locals sleep alone in that house, you know, never mind with small children.’

‘No. So I keep being told.’ Lyn packed the shopping into her haversack. ‘Thanks Sally. I’ll probably be back tomorrow.’

The buggy seemed heavier on the way back, or perhaps it was that she was tired. Lyn regretted for a moment that she hadn’t begged a lift from Janet, then she remembered why. Janet would have lectured and hectored her and tried to put on the pressure to bring the boys to stay at the farm, when all Lyn wanted was to have them to herself while she had the chance. Plodding on she glanced up at the sky. The clouds were becoming heavier and more threatening; she would be lucky if it didn’t rain before she got home. She glanced down at her charges. Both warmly wrapped and tucked beneath their blankets they were sound asleep.

The first rain drops were beginning to fall as she reached the gate and began the last haul up the drive.

The house seemed very dark as she came round the corner. Puffing along behind the buggy, forcing the wheels through the muddy gravel, she glanced up at the rain-streaked windows. There was a face at the attic window above the front door. She stopped and stared. Was Joss home? Squinting, she shook the ice cold drops of sleet off her eyelashes, trying to make out who it was for several seconds longer, then she headed for the back of the house and the kitchen. The courtyard was empty. Jimbo appeared to have closed up and gone – for lunch she supposed. There were no other cars there. She frowned. Who on earth was it then at the window? Groping in her pocket with ice cold fingers
for the key she pushed the door open and bent to lift Tom out. ‘Come on, sausage. You know I can’t lift you both up. You’ll have to run inside for Aunty Lyn and open the kitchen door. Shall we try and do it without waking the tornado?’ That was their private name for Ned.

Tom giggled and pushed himself out of the chair, rushing ahead of her into the kitchen. Turning she bumped the buggy up the back steps and manoeuvred it past the coats and into the kitchen before stopping to unbutton her own jacket. ‘Tom? Come and take your coat off.’

There was silence.

‘Oh Tom, not again. Come on.’ She sighed, turning to hang up her coat and shake and fold the damp blankets onto the rail in front of the stove to dry. ‘Tom? Come on, then you can help me get lunch.’

The door to the hall was open. With a glance at Ned who was still asleep Lyn left him in the buggy and ran into the corridor and through into the great hall. ‘Tom? Come on. Where are you?’ She stopped, staring at the fireplace. A fire was burning in the grate. She could see the logs, neatly heaped into a pyramid, the blown ash swept up, the room warm and filled with the sweet rich smell of burning oak.

‘Joss? Luke? When did you get back?’ She went to the study door and peered round it. ‘Where’s the car? I didn’t see it?’

The study was deserted, the curtains still half drawn as she had left them that morning.

‘Joss? Luke? Where are you?’ Lyn stood for a minute at the bottom of the stairs. Then she began to climb.

L
uke neatened all the small empty pots and containers and lined up the knives and forks on the tray in front of him with precision and pushed it to one side. He glanced at Joss. ‘Not long now. We’ll be landing in about fifteen minutes I should think.’ The stewardesses were trundling their carts along the plane, collecting all the rubbish. He looked down at Joss’s meal. She had barely touched anything. ‘They’ll be all right. Lyn’s just been out that’s all.’

‘Out late at night, with two small children? Out again first thing in the morning?’ She shook her head in despair. ‘We should have rung the police, Luke. Supposing something’s happened to them.’

‘Nothing’s happened to them, Joss.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘Look we’ll try and phone again from the air terminal, and if we can’t get through to Lyn we’ll try Janet again. There’s always the chance of course that they’ve gone off on a spree together. Don’t forget they’re not expecting us yet.’ He reached for her tray and passed it with his own to the flight attendant. ‘Come on. Cheer up. We don’t want to undo all the good the rest has done you.’

‘I know.’ She nodded wearily. ‘I did enjoy it. I did like Paul.’

She fell silent. Paul had arranged the flights – getting them on the plane at short notice by pulling one or two strings with someone he knew – and he had insisted on driving them back to Orly. There had been tears in his eyes as well as Joss’s when they finally embraced at the check in. ‘Come and see us,’ she had whispered. ‘If it doesn’t make you unhappy to come there without her, come and see us.’

‘Of course.’ He kissed her on both cheeks. ‘And you will come back to stay with me in the summer and you will bring your little boys with you.’

There had been a moment’s silence as they had both thought the unthinkable and he squeezed her shoulders again. ‘They will
be all right,’ he said, watching as Luke pushed their passports over the counter. ‘You will see. They will be just fine.’

In the phone booth in the high airy terminal building at Stansted Joss stood listening to the line ringing. There was no reply. She glanced at her watch. The boys should be resting by now after their lunch. With a glance at Luke who was standing only three feet away watching their luggage she dialled Janet. This time there was an answer.

A few minutes later she hung up. When she turned to face Luke she was smiling. ‘Janet saw them all in the shop this morning. She says they’re fine. The phone must be out of order or I’ve rung each time when Lyn has been out. She saw them on their way home too.’

‘Good.’ Luke stooped to swing their cases up and he began to walk towards the doors. ‘Then perhaps you can stop worrying while we find the car and sort ourselves out.’ He was heading towards the bus which would take them out to the distant car park. Outside the huge ever-circling door he stopped and waited for her. ‘Joss. You’re going to be sensible from now on; no overdoing it. No arguing with Lyn. No worrying about ghosts and noises and silliness where there is no need for it. Remember, you’ve got to see that doctor again.’

Joss stared at him. ‘I haven’t been making any of it up, Luke. Why do you think we’ve come stampeding back like this! For goodness sake. Paul believed me. He knew. He had seen my mother go through it – ’

‘Your mother was being persecuted by a real woman, Joss. Not a ghost. A real flesh and blood woman.’ He swung the cases onto the bus and they found some seats. ‘Her Katherine wasn’t a ghost.’

‘Wasn’t she?’ Joss seemed to be looking right through him. ‘We’ll see.’

Pulling the car up in the courtyard next to Lyn’s Mini Janet peered through the windscreen at the house.

For a moment she didn’t move, then, almost reluctantly she opened the door and climbed out.

The back door of the house was unlocked. After a couple of knocks she pushed it open and walked through the lobby into the kitchen. It was empty. The buggy stood near the window, and the neatly folded blankets were hanging on the rail in front of
the range. She touched them; they were completely dry and warm. There was no sign of anything cooking. In the corner the rocking horse stood abandoned, its rein hanging to the floor. She frowned. For a moment she had thought it was rocking gently by itself as though pushed by an unseen hand. She stared at it. It was her imagination of course. It had to be. Walking to the door she peered through.

‘Lyn? Where are you?’

Her voice echoed in the silence.

‘Lyn? It’s Janet. Are you there?’

She took a few steps into the great hall and looked around. The place was in shadow, the remains of a fire smouldering in the hearth. Although the room was quite warm she found she was shivering as she walked through towards the study. It was empty, so she went back and peered up the staircase. ‘Lyn?’ she called softly. If the boys were asleep she didn’t want to wake them. ‘Lyn, where are you?’

Tiptoeing up she paused on the landing outside Lyn’s room. The door was shut and she tapped on it gently. ‘Lyn? Can I come in?’

There was no answer. She hesitated a moment, not liking to open it in case Lyn was asleep, then she took her courage in both hands and pushed it. The room was empty and somehow very bare. There was no sign that Lyn had been there recently at all.

She was on her way to the boys’ bedrooms when she heard a faint knocking in the distance. She stopped, listening. There it was again – a distinct hammering sound from somewhere upstairs. She eyed the ceiling suspiciously, then she turned and went out to the stairs again.

The attics were very cold. Nervously she peered into the first. It was furnished as a spare bedroom, but there was no sign of anyone there. Beyond it the rest of the top floor was empty – a long string of low-ceilinged rooms leading out of each other the length of the house. ‘Lyn?’ she shouted. ‘Are you up here?’ The sound of her voice was somehow shocking in the intense silence. It was as she was standing listening for a response that she heard the knocking once again, louder this time, and more frenzied. ‘Lyn? Are you there?’ Ducking through the door she made her way into the next room. That too was empty, dusty and smelling of cold and damp. ‘Lyn, where are you?’

The door at the furthest end of the line of attics was closed. The
banging was coming from behind it. ‘Lyn, is that you?’ Janet put her ear to the wood panelling. ‘Lyn?’ She put her hand on the latch and rattled it. The door appeared to be locked.

‘Let me out. For God’s sake let me out!’ Lyn’s voice from behind the door was completely hysterical. ‘I’ve been here for hours. Are the boys all right?’

Janet grimaced. ‘I haven’t seen the boys. Hold on. I’ll try and find the key.’ She looked round frantically. The room in which she was standing was empty. There was nowhere a key could be hidden.

‘Feel on the beam over the door,’ Lyn instructed, her voice muffled by the thickness of the wood. ‘That’s where it was last time.’

Janet looked up. Cautiously she put her hand above her head and ran her fingers over the studs and cross beams which made the partition wall. It was several seconds before she connected with cold metal. ‘Here it is. Found it!’ She grabbed it and inserted it into the large key hole.

A second later the door swung open. Lyn was white faced, her hair dishevelled, her clothes filthy. ‘Thank God you came. I was afraid I’d be there forever.’

‘Who locked you in?’ Janet was running after her back towards the stairs.

‘Tom. It must have been. The little devil.’

‘It can’t have been. That beam was far too high for Tom.’

‘He must have fetched a chair or something.’ Lyn brushed the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘For pity’s sake hurry. There’s no knowing what he may have done.’

She hurtled down the staircase and through towards his bedroom. It was empty. ‘Tom? Tom where are you? Don’t hide from me.’ She pushed open the door to Ned’s little bedroom. That too was empty.

‘Oh God!’ It was a sob. ‘Janet, where is he?’

Janet bit her lip. ‘Where were they when you last saw them? Tom presumably upstairs and Ned? Where was Ned?’

‘Ned should be in his buggy in the kitchen.’

Janet shook her head. ‘No, I’ve just come from there. The buggy’s empty.’

‘He was still fast asleep, so I left him. He was strapped in. There was no danger. It was only for a minute.’ Lyn burst into tears
again. ‘Oh God!’ She wiped her face with her sleeve. ‘Tom ran away and hid and I heard noises up there in the attic. Giggling. Running about. It was Tom. It had to be, so I ran up to find him. He’s not allowed to play up there on his own, and anyway I wanted to get lunch.’ She sniffed. ‘I looked everywhere for him. I could hear him. He was hiding somewhere up there. When I was in that far attic the door banged and I heard the key turn then there was complete silence. I begged him. I promised him all sorts of things if he would open it, but there was total silence. No more running about, no more giggles. I knelt down to look through the key hole at once – did you see how big it was – I could see the whole attic. He wasn’t there, Janet. Nowhere. And there was no chair. I’d have heard if he’d dragged a chair across the floor. He’s only a little boy. He couldn’t have lifted it by himself.’

Janet put her arm round her shoulders. ‘Try and keep calm, Lyn. We’ve got to work this out. We must search the house again, carefully. You know how children love hiding. Tom has probably hidden himself somewhere and he’s having a good laugh.’

‘With Ned?’ It was a whisper.

Janet shrugged. ‘I expect he’s tucked Ned up somewhere and left him; he’s too young to play with properly.’ Her voice died away. After a second’s silence she went on. ‘We know he’s not in the attic. Let’s search this floor then we’ll go on down. We must be systematic.’

They were. They searched each room in turn, looking under beds, behind curtains and in cupboards, then, certain neither child was there they went down to the study.

‘No sign.’ Janet had even looked in the drawers of the desk.

‘The cellar,’ Lyn whispered. ‘We must check the cellar.’

The door was locked and there was no sign of the key.

‘They can’t be down there.’ Janet was eyeing the door dubiously.

‘They might be. I’ll fetch the key.’ Lyn disappeared for a moment and then reappeared with it in her hand. She inserted it into the lock with a shaking hand and pushed open the door.

The cellar was in darkness. ‘There’s no one here.’ Janet’s voice echoed slightly as she reached past Lyn and switched on the lights. ‘It doesn’t look as if anyone has been here for weeks. Do you want us to go down to look?’

Lyn nodded. ‘We have to look everywhere.’ She was feeling very sick.

‘OK.’ After a moment’s hesitation Janet led the way down the steps.

At the bottom they both stopped and listened. ‘He’s not down here,’ Lyn whispered. ‘He can’t be.’

‘We’d better look properly.’ Janet was feeling distinctly uneasy. ‘Where is his favourite hiding place? Does he have one?’

‘He does seem to like the attic. I’ve never known him come down here. But he’s not allowed to. It’s always kept locked and the key was where it’s supposed to be – so how could he be down here?’

Janet shrugged. ‘We had to check. After what happened to Edgar.’

Lyn stared at her. ‘But that was a heart attack.’

‘I know. But why was he down here? No one seems to know.’

They stood for a moment looking round then Lyn walked through and stood in the second cellar. There was no sign of anything and nowhere to hide. Closing her eyes with a deep sigh of relief she turned. ‘We’d better go on looking upstairs.’

The great hall, dining room, morning room, passages, pantries and sculleries behind the kitchen – each one was subjected to a careful and thorough search. When they were once more in the kitchen Janet reached for her jacket. ‘Come on. We’re going to have to look outside. I wonder if Jim is back yet. He can give us a hand.’

But the courtyard was empty, the garages and coach houses all padlocked. ‘At least we know they can’t be there.’ Lyn rattled one of the locks. She was feeling more and more afraid.

The gardens were bleak, the November light failing as they let themselves through the gate onto the lawn. ‘We’ve got to check the lake.’ Lyn’s hands were shaking. ‘Oh, Janet, why? What was Tom thinking of?’ Suddenly she was crying again.

‘We don’t know anything’s wrong.’ Janet gave her a quick hug. ‘Come on. It’s a childish prank, that’s all. I’m sure they’re perfectly safe.’ Her voice lacked conviction.

Walking down the lawn towards the still water of the lake both women were silent. After a few steps Lyn broke into a run. On the bank she stared round, scanning the reeds and lilies. A moorhen broke cover near her and paddled furiously towards the far
bank with a sharp cry of distress and a heron, which had been feeding on the island in the centre of the water lumbered awkwardly into the air croaking with indignation.

‘I can’t see anything.’ Lyn dashed the tears out of her eyes as Janet caught up with her, panting.

‘Nor can I. You go that way and I’ll go this way. I’ll meet you round the other side. That way we can be sure.’ She squeezed Lyn’s arm and set off, her shoes squelching in the damp muddy grass. The air felt very cold and she shivered as she hurried on, her eyes scanning the water, dreading the thought that she might actually see something there, but the lake and its surroundings were empty of any signs of the small boy or the baby. When she caught up with Lyn she was smiling. ‘Thank God they’re not here. I couldn’t have borne it. Where else can we look?’

Lyn stared round desperately. ‘Tom’s only little. He can’t have got far. Not on his own.’ She bit her lip. ‘You don’t think – you don’t think they’ve been taken away?’

‘Who on earth by?’ Janet shook her head. ‘They were in the house. You’d have known if there was someone else there.’

‘Someone locked me in, Janet.’

They stared at each other for a moment. ‘I think we’d better call the police,’ Lyn said at last. ‘Let’s go back inside.’

As they walked they were both scanning the garden for any signs. ‘You know he could just be hiding – in a hedge or a bush or something. We should be calling.’ Janet stopped and turning round cupped her hands round her mouth. ‘Tom! Tom Tom, where are you?’