House of Shadows (9 page)

H
ester was waiting for Holly when she got back to Summertown. The house was warm and light. The smell of a casserole cooking reached her from the kitchen and made Holly’s stomach rumble. Bonnie was waiting too, waving her feathery tail with the sort of enthusiasm she showed whether Holly had been away for an hour or a day. Holly felt her cold unhappiness thaw a little as she bent down to give the dog a cuddle.

‘Hello, Gran,’ she said, smiling. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Darling …’ Her grandmother planted a firm kiss on Holly’s cheek, one each side, and hugged her. She felt frail to Holly, her bones brittle beneath the cashmere jumper she wore. ‘I’m doing all right,’ she said, ‘but how are you? How did your meeting go with Ben’s friend?’

‘It was fine,’ Holly said lightly. She brushed her lips against her grandmother’s cheek. It was dusted with pink and felt marshmallow soft.

‘He hadn’t heard from Ben, had he?’ Hester asked, and Holly could hear the lift of hope in her voice.

‘I’m afraid not,’ she said. She wasn’t going to tell her grandmother about Espen Shurmer and the bizarre suggestions that Ben had been connected, however vaguely, to some sort of occult society. It was all just too strange to consider.

She watched her grandmother as she walked across the kitchen to reach for the kettle and turn it on. Tall, thin and ineffably elegant, Hester’s shoulders were square and her back as straight as a rod. Army discipline, Holly thought. There was a picture of the Brigadier, Holly’s great-grandfather, in one of the bedrooms upstairs. In it, he was whippet thin and the expression in his eyes suggested that he would not tolerate insubordination in the ranks or slumping in small girls. Holly wondered how much that discipline was helping her grandmother to deal with Ben’s disappearance. She had had so much to bear over the years, losing her daughter and son-in-law and taking on their two children, and now having to deal with Ben going missing.

‘Tasha rang,’ Hester said now, over the sound of the kettle boiling. ‘She hasn’t heard anything from Ben either. His practice is in a complete tizzy. They’ve had to get a locum in.’

‘Of course,’ Holly said. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ She realised for the first time that the ripples from Ben’s disappearance would spread out much further than his family and immediate friends. She had rung round as many people as she knew, hoping someone would have had word from him, but she realised with a pang that she didn’t know half of
Ben’s acquaintances. Trying to find him seemed a hopeless task.

‘Tasha seems very angry and convinced he’s gone on purpose to punish her for something.’ Her grandmother spoke without inflection but Holly could see the effort it cost her; her hands shook a little as she filled the teapot. Holly went across and put an arm about her and for a moment they stood close, their heads resting against each other.

‘Do you suppose Tasha’s right?’ Hester asked suddenly. ‘That Ben was having an affair and has gone off with another woman?’ She took two blue and white patterned mugs from the cupboard and warmed them with the spare water from the kettle. ‘I don’t want to believe it, but I suppose it could be true.’

‘Gran, no!’ Holly said. She felt shocked that her grandmother would even countenance the idea. ‘You know Ben wouldn’t do something like that.’

She saw her grandmother’s brows lift slightly but she let the subject go.

‘This is all Tasha’s fault,’ Holly said, suddenly fierce. ‘Suggesting Ben was unfaithful. I’m so angry with her!’ She had tried never to criticise Tasha to her grandparents because she knew that they’d had as delicate a relationship with her as Holly, but now she’d had enough. ‘Ben wasn’t like that,’ she said. ‘He was very loyal. He would never run off without a word. Abandoning Florence and his work responsibilities … That’s just not in character.’

She saw her grandmother’s shoulders slump and she gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sure you’re right, darling.’ Hester
said. ‘This whole business makes me doubt my own sanity.’

Holly nodded. ‘The trouble is that Tasha has told the police they were having relationship difficulties and so they don’t think he is missing in the true sense,’ she said, fighting to keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘So they won’t do anything to look for him.’ She spread her hands wide. ‘It makes me feel so helpless,’ she said. ‘I’m angry and frustrated and I don’t know what to do.’

Hester poured the tea and passed one of the mugs to Holly. ‘If it weren’t relationship problems they would imply he had run away because of something else,’ she said, with a sigh. ‘Financial worries, depression. They would suggest he might have taken his own life …’ She looked up and Holly saw the fear in her eyes. It was so stark that she felt her heart miss a beat. ‘I do worry that might be true,’ Hester said simply. ‘I can’t help myself.’

‘Gran …’ Holly said. She was even more horrified now. ‘No. Ben wouldn’t …’ She stopped because she couldn’t even form the words.

‘Oh, well …’ Hester’s voice strengthened. ‘I’m sure I’m just being negative. We can’t give up hope, especially so soon.’ She squeezed Holly’s hand. ‘He’ll be back soon, I’m sure of it.’

Holly wondered if the words sounded a little more hollow each time someone said them and perhaps her grandmother felt the same because she turned away as though to shield her expression from Holly, like she was ashamed.

‘Your grandfather is dining at Balliol tonight, so it’s just
us,’ she said brightly. ‘I hope you don’t mind, darling? I think perhaps he doesn’t know what to do with himself so he’s trying to stick to some sort of routine.’

‘That’s OK.’ There was a lump in Holly’s throat. For so many years she had thought her grandparents invincible. It was frightening to think her grandfather was feeling as lost and confused as she was and that her grandmother was putting on a brave face. ‘I’ll see him again tomorrow,’ she said.

‘Lovely,’ her grandmother said. She opened the Aga and took out a battered-looking casserole pot. ‘It’s lamb hot pot and beans.’

‘My favourite.’ Holly smiled at her.

They ate supper in the living room, with trays on their knees. The room was grand, but made smaller by the lamplight and the fire and the heavy curtains that blotted out the twilight.

‘You don’t mind a fire, do you, darling?’ Hester asked. ‘I know it’s been a hot day but I always feel the chill when night falls.’

‘As long as you don’t mind me falling asleep,’ Holly said, stifling a yawn.

‘Of course not,’ Hester said. ‘You must be exhausted. I don’t suppose any of us have slept since …’ Her voice trailed away. ‘We wondered if you wanted to stay for a few days?’ she added. ‘Guy as well, if he’s coming down …’ There was an unspoken question in the words. ‘Or do you have to get back to London?’

‘I’m not going back to London,’ Holly said. ‘Or rather I will, but only to arrange to have everything sent down to Ashdown. I’m going to live at the mill for a while.’

Hester dropped her fork with a clatter. ‘Darling!’ She looked appalled. ‘Is it really a good idea to uproot yourself from home like this? It could all be for nothing.’

‘I realise that,’ Holly said, ‘but I feel I need to be there.’

‘But …’ It was unusual for Holly to see her grandmother lost for words. Before her retirement Hester had been a professor of mathematics; incisive, objective and able to pinpoint an issue and dissect it with forensic skill. ‘Please don’t misunderstand me,’ Hester said now, very carefully. ‘I realise that you may want to be at Ashdown in order to try to find Ben. You want to be on the spot; perhaps it will help you to feel closer to him. But is this really wise?’

Holly sighed. She had been expecting a reaction like this but it was difficult to explain, especially when she didn’t really understand the impulse herself. All she knew was that she had to be there. It felt right. It felt like the only place to be.

‘I only know that I want to be at Ashdown at the moment,’ Holly said. ‘Guy and I are over.’ She met her grandmother’s eyes. ‘We were over long before this, if I’m honest. I just needed a jolt to make me see the truth.’

‘Again,’ Hester said, ‘not the best time to be making life-changing decisions.’

Holly sighed. ‘Trust me. Please. Sometimes it’s exactly the right time to see what is important and what isn’t.’

Now it was her grandmother’s turn to sigh. ‘Oh Holly.’

‘Don’t tell me that you never thought I’d made a mistake,’ Holly said.

Hester looked reproachful. ‘Now you’re putting me on the spot. But yes …’ She shook her head, somewhere
between exasperation and indulgence. ‘I did wonder. You’re so self-contained I never thought you would marry anyone. I was very surprised when you got engaged. And I was even more surprised you chose Guy.’

Holly demolished the last of the hotpot. She was astonished to find she had such an appetite. She hadn’t eaten at all, hadn’t felt like eating, for several days

‘I’ve wondered about that myself more than once since we split,’ she admitted. ‘Guy was nice.’ She winced. ‘Okay, that’s not a good reason. He was funny, and charming, and we had a good time together. And that was all I wanted.’

Hester smiled at her. ‘Guy was very likeable,’ she said. ‘It was easy to equate his charm with depth or character.’

‘Ouch,’ Holly said. ‘You really didn’t like him.’

‘He wasn’t good enough for you,’ Hester said with a shrug. ‘I’m old fashioned, but I’ve always believed that as a couple you should be greater than as an individual – stronger, complementary … Guy didn’t add anything to the equation. In fact I felt he took away from you rather than adding anything.’

Holly rubbed a hand over her forehead. ‘It wasn’t all Guy’s fault,’ she said. She shrugged helplessly. ‘I thought what we had was good enough. All my passion goes into my work. You know that. It was one of Guy’s complaints about me. It’s true I’m selfish like that, I suppose. I didn’t want a relationship that demanded too much of me.’

She knew that Guy had wanted more than she was prepared to give. He had needed to be praised, worshipped and adored. The only thing that Holly adored was the diamond-tipped drill she used for her glass etching. She could not really blame
Guy for the fact that when she
had
needed him he hadn’t been inclined to support her.

‘It’s not selfishness,’ Hester said wryly. ‘Even before Ben vanished you had coped with so much. It’s natural to want to protect yourself.’

Silence fell again, but for the crackle of the fire and Bonnie’s faint contented snores. ‘Oh, how I wish I could curl my legs up onto the sofa,’ Hester said. ‘Too old, I suppose – I might snap.’ She watched as Holly stacked the plates together and put them on the tray.

‘Tell me about your decision to move to the mill. Are you really sure you want to live there?’

‘Yes,’ Holly said. ‘It’s affordable, it has a workshop on site and if I work really hard I could probably set up a gallery as well and benefit from the tourists who come to Ashdown Park and Fran’s café.’

Hester smiled. ‘That sounds marvellous, but it wasn’t exactly what I meant.’

Holly avoided her gaze, rubbing her fingers over the smooth velvet pile of one of the cushions.

‘You mean because of Ben?’

‘And your parents,’ Hester said. ‘The place has so many memories.’

‘I don’t really associate Ashdown with Mum and Dad,’ Holly said after a moment. ‘We didn’t go there that often. To me it was just another holiday cottage.’ She swallowed. Her memories of her parents were sepia tinted now, as though she had known them a very long time ago. Yet time could not erase the ache of loss and the prickle of tears in her throat, all closer to the surface now because Ben’s
disappearance had made everything so raw again. If you loved you got hurt and the more you loved the more power it had to destroy you. For her it was that simple.

‘Grief and loss are odd things,’ Hester said. ‘People imply you should get over them but that’s the wrong terminology. They ease, I suppose, and smooth away a little and become a part of your life’s pattern. The sharp edges do get dulled in time …’

‘But every so often something will catch you,’ Holly said. ‘A memory, a place, a thought, and for that one moment the grief will be as sharp and terrifying as it ever was.’ She remembered how she had felt the day after Ben had gone and she shivered. She had never felt more isolated and alone in her life and she had turned to Mark to dispel that loneliness. Wrapped up in her own pain she had been selfish and she felt bad about that but it wasn’t a night she was likely to forget.

Hester smiled at her, reaching out a hand to clasp Holly’s. ‘This business with Ben has hit you hard,’ she said.

Holly did not deny it. There was no point in lying, and admitting that they were both feeling lost did not make them weaker. It drew them together more strongly. They sat in silence for a long peaceful moment and then Holly stirred.

‘Did you know that Ben was doing some sort of family history research at Ashdown?’ she said. ‘It doesn’t seem very like him, does it?’

‘Hardly.’ Hester looked mystified. ‘No, I had no idea. Are you sure? I thought Ben was bored by all that poking around in the past.’

‘So did I,’ Holly said, ‘but I wondered whether that was why Mum and Dad bought Ashdown Mill in the first place. Because of an interest in the history, I mean, or a personal connection to the place.’ She frowned. ‘I know nothing about Ashdown really but I thought I might try to find out what Ben was researching. It might … help. I don’t know how, but you never know.’