The Nine Bright Shiners (3 page)

Rowena also rose to her feet. ‘I'll send Lily with a cup of tea at eight-thirty. Will that be all right?'

‘Perfect. Good night, then. It's – lovely to be home.'

She was aware of them both staring after her as she left the room.

That same evening, in a flat in Bayswater, Guy Marriott, freelance journalist, was having a drink with his girlfriend. They were sitting on a sofa, his arm across her shoulders, chatting through a mediocre television programme. Or, more accurately, he was chatting and she was trying to watch the play.

‘By the way,' he remarked, ‘I can't meet you for lunch tomorrow.'

‘Oh, Guy!' Momentarily diverted from the screen, the girl pouted. ‘But we were going to buy my Christmas present.'

‘Sorry, I've got to go over to Broadshire. A lead's come up on that story I'm working on.'

‘What story?' But she was only half-listening, and almost immediately interrupted him. ‘Shut up a minute, I want to listen to this bit.'

Marriott laughed good-naturedly and finished his drink. Shirley had little interest beyond the cinema and TV, but she was decorative and willing, and a chap couldn't have everything. Abandoning his explanation, he got up to refill their glasses.

The next day, Jan, in company with her children, renewed her acquaintance with the town of her birth. Truth to tell, she was glad to escape from the house. Edward was out finalizing his travel plans and Rowena wasn't easy company.

Also, there'd been more awkwardness involving the children. That morning Ben, on his way back from the bathroom, had momentarily lost his bearings and opened Rowena's door instead of his own. Her voice from the stairhead thundered down the corridor, stopping him on the threshold just as he realized his mistake.

‘Ben! What did I say about going in there? How dare you disobey me like that?'

Her angry voice brought Jan hurrying from her own room. ‘For goodness sake, Rowena! He only went one door too far. Look, darling, that one's yours.'

Ben, red with fury, muttered audibly, ‘Who wants to go in her stupid room, anyway?' And though Rowena must have heard him, she evidently regretted over-reacting. She merely turned and went downstairs.

The other incident was more puzzling. Rowena, perhaps attempting to make amends, had, after breakfast, handed the children an enormous pile of Christmas cards to be arranged round the room. Several of them illustrated the old song
The Twelve Days of Christmas,
and Ben started to sing the last verse, working his way down till he came to the ninth day. He broke off and turned to Julie.

‘What's nine?'

‘Nine for the Nine Bright Shiners', she supplied quickly.

Jan, smilingly about to correct her, turned sharply at a crash from behind, and saw that Rowena, suddenly whitefaced, had dropped the flower vase she was carrying. After an uninterested glance over his shoulder, Ben turned back to his sister. ‘No, silly, that's
Green Grow the Rushes.
I know, it's “Nine ladies dancing” – look, here they are, on the card.'

Jan slipped to her knees to pick up the broken glass. ‘Oh Rowena, what a shame! Was it valuable?'

‘A wedding present,' Rowena said unsteadily.

‘But what happened?'

‘It just – slipped out of my hand and caught the edge of the table. Sheer clumsiness.' But she was clearly shaken, and Jan was unconvinced.

‘Julie, go and ask Lily for a cloth to mop up this water,' she directed, gathering up the scattered flowers while Rowena stood motionless, watching her.

‘I don't know where the kitchen is,' Julie protested, with the whine Jan dreaded creeping into her voice.

‘Of course you do. It's round the corner, in the back hall.'

‘I don't like it down there, it's all dark.'

‘It's a spooky house,' remarked Ben unhelpfully. ‘Lots of dark passages and big cold rooms.'

‘What nonsense! Go together, then – and be quick. The water's beginning to soak into the carpet.'

Lily came hurrying back with them, bearing an assortment of cloths and exclaiming with concern at the shattered vase. The children, delegating responsibility, returned to the pile of cards. By this time, Rowena had regained her composure.

‘Stupid of me, but so easily done. Thank you, Lily, that will do now. Will you bring another vase from the flower-room? It's all right, Janis, really,' as she continued to dab at the carpet. ‘Such a fuss about nothing!'

And another instance of over-reaction, Jan thought, getting up and smoothing down her skirt. But what had she reacted to? The words of a carol? It was at that point that she decided on the expediency of exploring Broadminster. It would get the children out of Rowena's way, and in any case she was eager to see the old place again.

To her delight, they were enchanted with it, especially Monks' Walk. This lay in the heart of Old Broadminster, just across the Green from the Minster, and its roofs and chimneys clustered skywards in a glorious lack of uniformity, some crenellated, some flat, some gabled with dormer windows. Many of the old houses were whitewashed, their ancient beams picked out in black paint; others were rosy in weathered brick or stone. On the ground floor, most now housed antique shops, boutiques and coffee-houses, and their brightly lit windows were full of Christmas gifts. With fairy lights strung between the lamp-posts, the composite effect was like a scene out of fairyland. An enterprising trader was selling hot chestnuts on the corner of Queen's Road, and the children clamoured to buy some, burning their fingers as they attempted to shell and eat the hot nuts.

Their progress was slow, since Julie insisted they stop and gaze in each window. Over on the Green, the Salvation Army began to play carols, and the familiar tunes, albeit in very different surroundings, brought the nostalgia Jan dreaded. A man hurried past them, holding tightly to the hand of a small boy, and Julie's eyes followed him. ‘Why doesn't Daddy love us any more?' she asked wistfully, and gave a little gasp as Ben dug her sharply in the ribs.

Jan said hurriedly, ‘Let's go in here; we must choose a present for your uncle and aunt.'

During their stroll, she'd been aware of people staring at them. An explanation was offered by the girl in the antique shop. ‘My goodness, how brown you all are!' she exclaimed. ‘You make me look not only pale, but blue! Have you been abroad?'

Australia, Jan confirmed. On one wall was an ornately carved mirror, and seeing their reflections in it, she was aware for the first time of the family resemblance. They were all slightly built, with fair hair bleached almost white by the Australian sun and eyes startlingly blue against their tan. No wonder they stood out among the pale English faces.

‘Well, you're certainly a good advertisement! Can I help you, or do you just want to browse?'

Jan explained what they were looking for, noting that the shop sold gifts as well as antiques. She eventually chose a crystal vase for Rowena to replace the broken one, and for Edward a framed print of Broadminster in 1600. Julie was tugging at her sleeve. ‘Mummy, look at that funny bicycle!'

The assistant smiled at her. ‘It's called a pennyfarthing, because the back wheel is tiny, like farthings used to be, and the front one is big, like an old penny. The shop's called after it – look!' And she held up a piece of wrapping paper covered with tiny drawings of the machine.

‘Can you ride it?' Julie asked, intrigued.

The girl laughed. ‘I'm not allowed to try – it's quite valuable.'

As they left the shop, almost colliding with a man who was passing, something familiar about him made Jan exclaim involuntarily, ‘Miles?'

He turned, meeting her eyes without recognition. ‘Good afternoon.'

She said awkwardly, ‘It's Jan – Janis Langley-that-was. I – thought I recognized you.'

‘Good God!' he said, holding out his hand. ‘How are you? What are you doing here? I thought you were out in Canada or somewhere?'

‘Australia, but we're over for Christmas.'

‘Well, well. Husband with you?'

‘Er, no – but these are my children, Ben and Julie. Children, this is Mr Cody, whose father was a friend of Grandpa's.'

But Miles was glancing at his watch. ‘Well, it's good to see you after all this time. How long are you here for?'

‘Oh, ages!' Jan said lightly. She hesitated. ‘Didn't Edward tell you we were coming?'

Miles said drily, ‘Edward and I don't communicate unless we have to. Look, I'm sorry to dash off, but I've an appointment in ten minutes.'

‘Of course – sorry to –'

‘See you on Boxing Night, no doubt.'

‘Boxing –?' But he was already striding away, and she realized she knew no more of him than she had on the plane. Was he married? Where was he living? There'd been a time, around Edward and Rowena's wedding, when she'd fancied herself in love with Miles. She smiled wryly at the thought. But he
was
attractive, tall and broad-shouldered, still with that brooding quality he'd had as a young man.

That evening, over coffee, Jan said casually, ‘I met Miles Cody in town today.'

‘Oh yes?' Edward's tone was neutral as he caressed the cat on his lap.

‘He was surprised to see me. I thought you might have mentioned I was coming.'

‘We're not on the best of terms with Miles,' Rowena said crisply. ‘He was very offensive when my father died.'

‘Offensive? How?'

‘Oh, he came round here and started making a scene, and wouldn't leave when we asked him. It was all very unpleasant.'

‘Surely he was fond of your father?'

‘It's my mother he's fond of, and she of him, unfortunately. But it goes back a long way.'

‘Then I don't see –'

‘Please, Janis, I'd rather not say any more.'

After a moment Jan murmured, ‘He said he'd see me on Boxing Night. I didn't know what he meant.'

‘We always have a party.'

‘And you've invited Miles?'

‘Season of goodwill,' Edward said facetiously, and Rowena threw him a disparaging glance.

‘Because of Mother. It'll be hard enough for her this Christmas, the first without Father. We couldn't deprive her of Miles as well.'

Jan was silent. She remembered vaguely that Lady Peel had looked after Miles as a child, but she'd never known why, and this hardly seemed the time to ask.

‘And what did you think of Broadminster?' Edward inquired, adroitly leading her off the subject. ‘Has it changed much?'

‘Not Monks' Walk, but that's hardly changed in three hundred years, let alone fifteen!'

‘It's geared for tourists, though,' Rowena put in. ‘You can't move for them in the season. Still, there are some interesting boutiques. I bought a very smart wedding outfit there last summer.'

‘We went in one of the antique shops, and Julie was intrigued with a pennyfarthing they had on display.'

‘Oh, Pennyfarthings – yes. They had a murder there a year or two ago.'

‘A
murder
?' Jan stared at her aghast. ‘In the shop?'

‘The flat above, I believe, but the staff were involved. All very gory and unpleasant.'

‘But who, and why?'

‘I don't remember the details. But as Edward said, times have changed, even if it's not all that apparent on the surface. Everything seems more violent now, even in sleepy old Broadminster.'

Jan shuddered, her pleasant memory of the shopping trip spoiled. The stain of violence was far-spreading, contaminating long after the initial act had been expunged.

Edward gave a short laugh. ‘Poor Janis! You'll be regretting having come! But surely you have crime down in Oz too?'

‘Yes – yes, of course.' But it hadn't touched her as closely as this nebulous encroachment in the town she still thought of as home.

Christmas, anticipated either with dread or excitement for so long, came in the end with a rush. On Christmas Eve, Lady Peel arrived to spend the holiday at Rylands. She was a charming woman, grey-haired, erect, and always impeccably dressed. Jan was pleased to meet her again, recalling her mother's description of Lady Peel as ‘a gentlewoman'. Her manner with the children immediately endeared her to them, since, unlike her daughter, she treated them with grave politeness, listening carefully to what they had to say. It was a shame, Jan thought, that she'd no grandchildren.

Later that evening, Jan sat on the bedroom floor, as she did every year, filling the children's stockings. In the past, Roger had always been with her, wrapping the small gifts in tissue paper and passing them to her to stuff into the long legs. What was he doing now? she wondered, pushing the oddly shaped packages down to the toe. Surfing on the beach? Having a barbecue? She hadn't told him they were coming away, chiefly because she knew he'd try to dissuade her. She'd intended to drop him a line as soon as they arrived, but in the build-up to Christmas he wouldn't in any case have received it before the holiday. She promised herself she'd write as soon as it was over.

The strains of
Away in a Manger
came from beneath her window, followed almost immediately by the sound of the doorbell. Despite being twelve thousand miles from Roger and in the bosom of her family, Jan would be glad when the next few days were over.

The next morning dawned still and crisp with frost, a relief after the strong gales of the last few days. It was, Jan reflected, the next best thing to a white Christmas.

It was as they were getting ready for church that Roger phoned. With dry mouth and clattering heart, she went down to take the call. The phone was in the hall, and though doors were discreetly closed, she knew the children were listening on the landing. She said carefully, ‘Hello?'

‘Jan!' He sounded almost at her side. ‘What the hell are you doing over there?'