The Hills and the Valley (69 page)

They turned into the drive of Hillsbridge House. The rain had brought down more leaves here; it seemed as if winter had come in just one day. To Barbara's surprise Marcus's car was parked in front of the house. He must have come home early.

‘It's Marcus,' she said, her voice bleak.

Huw stopped the car, switched off the engine and turned to her.

‘Are you going to tell him?'

Barbara glanced meaningfully at Hope. ‘Not now!' she said through clenched teeth.

‘Well, it's your decision now.' His voice was hard. ‘I've said all I'm going to say on the subject.'

He got out, opened the boot and carried the pushchair up the steps for her, depositing it just inside the front door. ‘Goodbye, Barbara.'

‘Will I see you tomorrow?' she asked, frightened suddenly.

He shrugged. ‘That's up to you.'

‘I see.'

‘I hope so.' He caught her wrist, kissed her hard on the lips. She pulled away, looking round in panic.

‘Huw! You shouldn't – not here!'

His lips twisted slightly. ‘In that case it looks as though I've had my answer.'

‘Huw …' But he was striding away towards the car. She checked the urge to run after him. He's only trying to frighten me, she thought. He wouldn't walk out on me. Not now …

Wouldn't he? came back the answer. Huw had a somewhat unpredictable streak. And in his own way he could be as stubborn as she was.

The car was pulling away. She watched it go holding onto Hope's hand. Hope was waving madly. ‘Bye-bye, Uncle Huw! Bye-bye …'

‘Come on, Hope,' Barbara said sharply. They went in and she closed the door.

For the moment, because of the gloom in the hall, she did not see him standing in the doorway. Then, as her eyes grew accustomed to the light, he seemed almost to materialise. Just standing and looking as he had stood and looked that other night beside the window.

‘Marcus – I didn't see you,' she said foolishly.

‘I'll bet you didn't.' His voice was silky, but the undertones were unmistakeable. ‘That was Huw, I imagine.'

‘Yes.'

‘I thought as much. What have you been doing with him?'

‘Oh, for heaven's sake!' she snapped, taking off Hope's coat and going to walk past him.

His hand shot out, grasping her arm. ‘What have you been doing?'.

‘What do you think I've been doing? Take your hand off my arm.'

He ignored her request. ‘I don't trust you with him. I don't like the way you look at him. If you've been deceiving me …'

Her chin shot up. ‘What if I have? The way you treat me it's hardly surprising!'

‘You bitch!' She felt his anger rising, that terrifying anger that turned him into a monster before her very eyes. She tried to pull away but he held her fast, dragging her in close so that his face was just a few inches from hers. ‘You bitch, I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!'

‘Don't touch me!' she screamed.

He threw open the drawing-room door, dragging her in, then hit her full in the face. She staggered back beneath the force of the blow and would have fallen but for the fact that he was still holding her. She sobbed with pain and fear and he hit her again so that the whole of her face was searing with pain and her head sung.

‘Bitch!' He hit her yet again. Her knees gave way beneath her, she sagged to the floor and he was on top of her. As if from a long way off she could hear Hope crying and she struggled wildly. Dear God, surely he was not going to take her here, with Hope looking on! But she was weakened by his blows and his was the strength of a madman. Though she fought him all the way, she was helpless. Only at the last did she manage to get her nails to his face, scratching savagely at his cheeks and thrusting at him with her knees, but by then the pain and the frustration of losing her at the moment of his climax only maddened him further, so that he pushed her back, kneeling astride her like some insane animal.

For a terror-struck moment she thought he was going to kill her. He grasped her by the hair, pounding her head against the floor. Hope was screaming now and her terrified wail brought Barbara back from the verge of unconsciousness. As his hands fastened round her throat she brought her knee up again and more by lucky chance than design caught him in the groin. He yelled, relaxing his hold of her, and somehow she managed to roll away. The heavy sofa connected with her singing head. She grabbed the arm of it and hauled herself up. Marcus was still rolling on the floor holding himself. Fear lent strength to her shaking legs. She ran to Hope, scooping her up with the child's face turned into her.

‘That's it!' she cried. ‘I'm leaving you, Marcus. I warned you. I'm going now and I'm taking Hope with me.'

She ran out of the room, Hope in her arms, and up the broad staircase. The suitcases were stored in a cupboard at the head of the stairs; she jerked one out and another fell clattering to the floor. She left it there, took the other into Hope's room and began throwing clothes into it. Hope whimpered beside her.

‘It's all right, it's all right!' Barbara reassured her, but still the child cried and her anger grew to fury. What he did to her was one thing. But to do it in front of a child …

I'm taking her away from here, Barbara thought, and if he tries to stop me I'll tell everyone the reason. They can employ the fanciest lawyer in Bath but he won't stop me telling the truth about Marcus. Not now. Oh, not now …

Hope sobbed again, her small face contorted, her eyes wide. ‘Da-da!'

‘Hope don't!' Barbara begged. Then, a thrill of fear turned her spine to water and she swung round.

Marcus was in the doorway, holding his service revolver. The shock of it ran through her in waves yet suddenly she was icy cool.

‘Put that thing down,' she said.

He took a step into the room. The gun was pointing directly at her.

‘You're not leaving me, Barbara. I'll kill you first.'

‘Don't be so silly,' she said.

She heard the click as the safety catch came off.

‘I mean it, Barbara. He shan't have you. I won't let him. I'm going to kill you.'

Dear God, he means it! she thought.

She caught Hope's dress, gave her a little push towards the door.

‘Go downstairs, Hope,' she said. Although she was shaking, her voice was very level. ‘Go on, quickly now!'.

The child hesitated, ran to the door, looked at her father in terror then darted back to Barbara, burying her face in her skirt and sobbing.

‘I'm going to kill you both,' he said.

The revolver moved slightly in his hand. She stared at it mesmerised, holding tightly to Hope's small shaking body. From somewhere downstairs she heard the sound of a door slamming and a voice – Huw's voice – called: ‘Barbara – are you there?'

‘Huw!' she screamed.

She heard him running up the stairs, saw the expression on Marcus's face and thought it was all over. She held her breath, bracing herself for the bullet. It did not come. Instead, Marcus leaped into the room but before she could move he was behind her, one arm folded tightly around her throat, the gun muzzle pressed against her temple.

Huw was in the doorway. Though her head was strained back she could see him, see his rushed approach and the sudden stop as he took in what was happening in the room. He stood like a statue, bracing himself against the door jamb, his face momentarily frozen in an expression of shock and horror.

Marcus spoke, ‘Stay there, James. Another step and I'll kill her.'

Huw eased himself upright, the tension making him move like a cat.

‘Don't be a fool, Spindler.'

Marcus laughed, a high-pitched unhinged sound.

‘I mean it. She's my wife. My wife, do you hear? You won't have her, I'll see to that.'

Barbara tried to speak, tried to say ‘He means it, Huw!' and could not. The pressure of his arm around her throat was cutting off breath and in any case she thought she was beyond words.

‘Look, Spindler, this isn't doing anyone any good.' Huw's voice was deliberately level now, though the same tension that was holding his body like a tight-coiled spring was there in the air. ‘Put that gun down and let's talk about this sensibly. No one wants to hurt you. No one wants to upset you. We just want to help.'

‘Get out and leave my wife alone!'

‘I'm not going anywhere while you've got that gun on her and you might as well realise that. Put it down, man, for God's sake!' Sweat was trickling down Huw's face but he did not dare wipe it away for fear that the movement might trigger Marcus into doing something terrible.

‘Get out of here, James, and leave us alone!'

Realising he was getting nowhere Huw tried a new tack.

‘What's the matter with you, man? What are you so worked up about?'

‘You and her. You think I don't know? I'll kill her before you shall have her. I will!' He was sounding like a gramophone record with the needle stuck in a groove, unable to think of anything but his insane jealousy and the blackness that threatened to split his head wide open.

For seemingly endless minutes Huw went on talking. Barbara could hear his voice yet she was strangely unaware of what he was saying. Her face was throbbing badly now where Marcus had hit her, her neck ached from being stretched at an unnatural angle and her head was swimming. I'm going to faint, she thought and then: no, I mustn't. If I faint, God alone knows what will happen. Hope was still clinging terrified to her legs and she tried to concentrate on willing the child to stay still, quite still …

In the muzzy blackness she heard Huw say: ‘Look, Spindler, I know you've had a rough time but this is no way to make things better. You're not the first one to get things all muddled up and wrong. It's what the damned war did to men. But you can get help. Just as long as you don't do anything bloody stupid. After all, you're supposed to be a hero, aren't you?'

Don't Huw! she wanted to shout. For God's sake, don't bring that up! It'll send him over the top! But she could not speak. The truth about Marcus's cowardice was the one thing she had not been able to bring herself to tell him. And now it was too late …

‘You did your best for your men, didn't you?' Huw was going on. ‘Think about that and …'

Marcus's arm tightened around her neck, the muzzle of the gun bit into her temple.

‘Are you trying to be funny?' he barked.

‘Of course not. I …'

Marcus laughed, that same insane laugh that chilled the blood.

‘I killed them!' he screeched. ‘All my men! I killed them! What difference does it make if I kill her too?'

The faintness passed over Barbara in a wave again; she fought it and saw that Huw had moved. Tensed now, both hands braced against the door jamb, head down, eyes levelled at Marcus.

‘I'm the one you want to kill', he said, enunciating the words clearly. ‘If you want to take it out on someone, take it out on me. But for God's sake, let her go!'

‘No!'

‘I'm the one you want. Look at me. I'm here. I'm alive. I'm laughing at you. Go on, Marcus. Shoot
me.
Shoot me – if you dare!'

The tension hung in the air. For a moment none of them moved, then Barbara felt the quiver run the length of Marcus's body. And miraculously the pressure on her throat reduced and his arm was no longer strangling her.

‘All right, James, you've asked for it! You've bloody asked …' The gun was levelled at Huw, his finger tightening on the trigger.

‘No!' Barbara screamed. At the very moment he squeezed she struck at his arm from underneath and the bullet cracked harmlessly through the ceiling. For a moment, Marcus stood as if frozen by the shock of having actually fired and in that second in eternity everything happened at once. Huw stepped forward, grabbed Barbara and Hope and practically threw them through the open door. Barbara scooped Hope into her arms and stumbling on legs gone weak she ran for the stairs.

‘Get out of here, Barbara!' Huw shouted behind her and she needed no second bidding.

She was at the foot of the stairs, Huw behind her, when she heard the second shot. She froze.

‘Go on – get out!' Huw yelled at her.

She dived for the door, down the stone steps onto the drive, then turned around to look for Huw. He was not there.

‘Huw!' she sobbed. Her brain and senses were in total turmoil. Where was he? What was happening in the house? She had to know, yet she could not go back. There was Hope to think about …

Clutching the sobbing child to her she stared, wildeyed at the open front door. My God, if he had killed Huw … she couldn't stand it. She honestly could not stand it.

Where
were
they? Why was it so quiet? In the trees around the park a rook cawed. It was the only sound now to break the silence. Wordlessly, without sense or meaning, Barbara prayed as she had never prayed before.

A movement from inside the house. She stood poised for flight. But it was Huw who stood framed in the doorway, Huw who came down the steps towards her, took her in his arms, holding her tight with Hope squashed between them.

‘All right, my love?' he whispered.

She moved convulsively. ‘Marcus …?'

He held her steady. ‘It's all over. He's dead.'

She gasped.

‘He turned the gun on himself,' Huw said.

‘Oh!' She tried to break away to go to him. He was, after all, despite all he had done, her husband. Huw prevented her.

‘Don't go in there. There's nothing you can do.'

She held taut, then half fell against him.

‘Oh Huw – Huw!'

‘It's all right, my love,' he whispered. ‘It's all over now. It's all over.'

In the trees above the park the rook cawed again.

The news spread round Hillsbridge like wildfire.