Angel With Two Faces (32 page)

‘No, not at all. But it does sound like a long-term occupation.’

‘It’s easier with Loveday, I admit – partly because she’s still so young, and partly because she’s interested in everything. She adores the horses, you know – she’s very like her father and her brother in that way – and I want to encourage Morwenna to let her help out a bit round the estate when she’s better. She never had the patience to stick with school, although she’s bright and Morveth did what she could – but Loveday’s an independent spirit, and just the sort that this place needs.’

‘You must be used to patching this estate together by now,’ Josephine said, as they walked down the drive which divided the parkland from some marshy reed beds and the lake. ‘Doesn’t it ever get you down? The responsibility, I mean – for the people, as well as the land. Don’t you ever hanker after an easy life?’

He smiled. ‘Is there such a thing? Look,’ he said, pointing across to the farmland which lay beyond the water. ‘You can trace the history of our landscape for hundreds of years just in this one view – all those winding lanes and tracks between the farms, cut by the passage of people and animals through the centuries. Can you see how some of the layouts differ from others?’ Josephine nodded, noticing that groups of oddly shaped fields with sinuous boundaries were interspersed here and there with more regular patches of land. ‘There are different ways to manage somewhere like this,’ William continued. ‘Sometimes a new broom sweeps clean because it’s easier than taking the time to repair what was there before. But that doesn’t work with people.’

‘I suppose the war was the ultimate broom,’ Josephine said as they turned and walked back towards the house. ‘It must have changed a way of life that had been undisturbed for years.’

‘Yes, although I think those old ways were winding down, and perhaps a lot of the changes would have happened anyway. And not everything changed for the worse – the war did, at least, bring us together a little. Hating the next village always used to be a point of principle down here.’

‘Co-operation isn’t a Cornish trait any more than it’s a Scottish one, then?’

‘No. I suppose in that respect we’re quite similar.’

‘Much more so than I’d realised – the clan spirit is very much alive and kicking here. In some ways, I suppose I find that easier to understand than Archie and the girls do, even though they’re born to it. Where I grew up – where I live – everyone knows everyone unless they arrived the night before, and sometimes even then.’

‘And you’re afraid to flirt with anyone in case he’s your fiancé’s cousin?’

Josephine laughed. ‘Well, it’s not quite that bad, but nearly.’

‘So a Cornish life might suit you?’

She hesitated, unsure of what was meant by the question and feeling suddenly cornered, the way she always did when a conversation became too personal. ‘I’ve got responsibilities at home,’ she said, a little more abruptly than she intended, ‘and it might feel similar, but there’s a long way in between.’

‘Yes, of course – you have your father to think about. The girls told me.’

Aware that she had been too defensive, Josephine tried to soften her explanation. ‘I used to think about it a lot,’ she said.
‘What it would be like to set up home somewhere different, and where I’d go if I did. I remember walking along the Moray Firth one day – all right,’ she laughed as she saw him raise a sceptical eyebrow, ‘I know it’s not exactly the other side of the world but I thought I’d start gradually. Anyway, I was walking along, wondering where to build the hypothetical cottage, and I realised I was fooling myself. Two minutes from a cinema and three minutes from a railway station is my idea of perfection.’

He held up his hands in defeat. ‘All right – who am I to argue with perfection?’ and then, more seriously, ‘I’m glad it suits you, though.’

‘How well do you know Morveth?’ Josephine asked when they had been silent for a minute or two.

He looked at her curiously, intrigued by the sudden change of topic but too polite to say so. ‘I’ve known her all my life, but it was Lizzie – Archie’s mother – who was really close to her. You should ask Archie about Morveth – she was very good to him when his parents died.’

Josephine had every intention of discussing Morveth with Archie, but she said nothing. ‘The other day – at dinner on the first night I was here – you were going to say something to Archie about Morveth and his mother, but you changed your mind.’ She wasn’t going to tell William what Morveth had revealed to her, but she was keen to find out if he really did have no idea. ‘I was intrigued by what that might have been.’

‘You don’t miss anything, do you?’ William said, impressed.

‘Oh, believe me – I do, and the wrong end of the stick is absolutely covered in my fingerprints, but I did notice that.’

‘Well, it’s not really a secret – just something that Archie might find difficult to understand. You know the talents we were talking about with Morveth – the clothes, the healing…’
The convenient miscarriages, Josephine added silently, but only nodded. ‘Well, Lizzie had those powers, too. She and Morveth – they believed in the same things. I thought at first that she was doing it to spite our dear pious brother, but it ran deeper than that. Like I said, there’s no great darkness in it – even Wesley believed in the power of an acorn to heal a broken bone – but Archie has a very analytical mind, and his life revolves around evidence. That’s a difficult combination, particularly since the war. The idea that death is just one stage in a continual cycle of renewal – which is what Morveth believes – is very difficult to accept for people who have seen that sort of suffering – and rightly so, I think.’

‘And you? Where do you stand between brother and sister?’

‘Oh, I believe in whatever gets you through – as long as it doesn’t harm anyone else.’

Burdened with yet another secret from Archie, Josephine looked at her watch and saw that it was later than she thought. ‘I’d better go and change for dinner,’ she said. ‘Ronnie and Lettice will be waiting.’

‘There’s really no need,’ William said. ‘You look lovely as you are, and standing on ceremony for the sake of it seems rather futile after the last few days. Wouldn’t an extra cocktail before dinner do you more good than a change of shoes?’

She had to agree that it would, and they went inside. Ronnie and Lettice were already in the library, and Josephine was not surprised to see that they had found time for drinks and perfect footwear. Reminding herself that it was their job to look good, and that fashion was anathema to a decent plot, she sank into one of the comfortable chairs by the fire and watched the creation of the perfect Martini.

‘Good day?’ Ronnie asked, pouring her triumph into a glass.

‘No,’ said Josephine, ‘most definitely not one of my best.’ She accepted the drink that was offered and was surprised to realise how much she needed it.

‘Is the book going badly, darling?’ Lettice lit a cigarette for each of them and passed Josephine’s over to her.

‘It would be an exaggeration at this point to say that it was going at all,’ Josephine replied tartly. ‘I’ve managed eighteen hundred words, seventeen hundred of which will almost certainly be thrown away tomorrow, and Grant’s had to up sticks and move along the coast. I can hardly set a shocker here after everything that’s happened – it wouldn’t be right. All that, and I’ve had to put up with a wigging from Morwenna Pinching into the bargain.’

‘Really? What on earth for?’

‘Oh, just something that Archie wanted me to talk to Loveday about.’

‘Is there anything you’d like to share with us?’ Lettice asked hopefully.

‘No, I’d better not. Let’s just say that I’m sorely tempted to tell Archie what he can do with his investigation
and
his Cornish holidays.’ Was this the moment? she asked herself as she sipped her drink, and decided that it probably was. ‘Anyway, I certainly wish I’d never asked him to move in with me,’ she said casually, and was pleased to see that she had chosen well. Lettice choked on her olive, and Ronnie’s astonishment made its way slowly out from behind a cloud of cigarette smoke. William, to his credit, simply smiled.

‘Archie’s moving into the Lodge?’ Lettice asked, when her sister had finished hitting her on the back.

‘Yes – didn’t he mention it?’ Josephine asked nonchalantly. ‘I asked him to tell you.’

‘And you’re not moving out?’

‘Of course not. Don’t be so provincial.’

‘Then none of us will be safe in our beds except you,’ Ronnie said, a wicked glint in her eye.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, bewildered.

‘Well, with his mind on other things, I doubt that Inspector Penrose could run a fuck in a brothel, let alone a murder investigation,’ she explained.

Josephine glanced – provincially – at William, but he seemed unperturbed by his younger daughter’s choice turn of phrase. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, beginning to feel that the joke had backfired somewhat. ‘You know he always puts his work first. I only wish I could say the same.’

‘Well, I think it’s lovely,’ Lettice said, beaming. ‘I’m sure you’ll get on like a house on fire.’

‘Which brings us full circle to the Pinchings,’ Ronnie quipped, and this time she did get a frown from her father. ‘Is that why Morwenna’s been stamping her foot? Because she caught Archie smuggling his pyjamas past the boathouse?’

Josephine handed Ronnie an empty glass to give her something else to think about. ‘By the way – I’ve been meaning to ask,’ she said to Lettice. ‘Do you know anything about the Fowey woman? She’s causing quite a stir up in town.’

The clumsy change of subject was greeted by a loud scoff from the cocktail cabinet but Lettice – starved of gossip for at least a week – took the bait, as Josephine had known she would. ‘Daphne, you mean?’ she asked eagerly. ‘What’s she been up to? We’ve never met her, but if she takes after Gerald du Maurier, I’m not surprised there’s talk.’

‘Oh, it’s nothing like that,’ Josephine said, conscious that she was about to be a disappointment. ‘It’s just that I had lunch
with Victor Gollancz before I came down here – you know he pinched her from Heinemann last year, just after he started publishing – and he’s very excited about the new novel. Full of smugglers and adventure, apparently.’

‘Sounds like any night at the Ship Inn,’ William said.

Josephine smiled. ‘Well perhaps that’s where she’s done her research. Anyway, he’s so pleased he’s thinking of taking out full-page advertisements in the papers.’

‘Oh, how vulgar,’ Lettice said, in a tone that most people reserved for American divorcees.

‘There speaks a woman who’s never looked in disappointment at her royalty cheque.’

‘Yes, I know, but I really do think that…’

The rest of the sentence was lost in the slamming of the front door, and they heard the sound of quick, purposeful steps across the hallway. ‘Forgotten your toothbrush?’ Ronnie called but the joke died on her lips when she saw the expression on her cousin’s face. Without a word of greeting, Archie walked straight over to the drinks table and poured himself a large whisky, which he drank down in one. His glass refilled, he turned to face them.

‘Jasper’s had a stroke,’ he said, looking at his uncle. ‘It happened late this afternoon, while I was questioning him about Nathaniel’s murder.’

‘Good God,’ William said, ‘what a terrible thing to happen. How is he? Is he…?’

Josephine got up to go over to Archie but something in his face made her stay where she was. ‘I’m sorry to say that yes – he is still alive,’ he said bitterly. ‘But it was serious, so there’s every reason to hope that he may take a turn for the worse in the next few hours.’

‘I know he’s done some despicable things, Archie, but surely you don’t mean that.’

‘Oh, I mean it. And do you know why?’ he asked. ‘No? Well, I’ll tell you. Just before he collapsed, he admitted to raping my mother.’ Josephine glanced at William, who was staring at his nephew as though he were speaking a foreign language. Ronnie moved protectively over to her father’s side. ‘How could you let something like that happen?’ Archie continued. ‘And how long did she have to put up with it before someone did something about it?’ William’s silence seemed only to increase his anger. ‘Didn’t it ever occur to you that it might be something I should know about?’

‘Archie…’ Josephine began, but he cut her off.

‘Don’t, Josephine. I know this is nothing to do with you, and I’m sorry you have to be caught in the middle of it, but there are things that need to be said.’

‘William couldn’t tell you, Archie,’ she said, ignoring him, ‘because he didn’t know himself.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. They were all under the same roof – how could he not know?’ Suddenly, the significance of what she had said dawned on him and he turned to her, horrified. ‘
You
knew?’ he asked in disbelief.

She hesitated, unable to see a way of vindicating William without betraying her own unwilling collusion in something that had never concerned her. ‘I found out last night,’ she admitted. ‘Morveth told me when we were at the Minack. Your mother told her years ago, but no one else knew except your father.’

‘So that’s what all those questions were about this morning at breakfast?’

‘No – that was to do with…’ She tailed off, unable to
continue without exposing another family lie, and unwilling to use Morwenna’s plight to defend herself. ‘You know what that was about,’ she said quietly, uncomfortably aware that all eyes in the room were now on her.

‘Yes. It was about you being as bad as the rest of them,’ he retorted sharply. ‘Worse, in fact, because this isn’t your secret to keep. You don’t belong here, and you have no loyalty to anyone on this estate except me. So why keep quiet? What sort of thrill did you get out of knowing more about my life than I do?’

‘Archie, it was never like that.’ She tried to explain, but he was in no mood to listen.

‘Or is it more serious than that? Are you still trying to punish me for Jack’s death?’

‘Don’t you dare accuse me of something like that,’ she said, her fury suddenly matching his. ‘And stop bringing Jack into our relationship – I thought we’d put that behind us. Anyway, while I was grieving for him, you were busy having your cosy little chats with Morwenna. Does the Lady of Shalott ring a bell?’