A Class Apart (72 page)

“When you’ve got so much going on here? I can’t believe that. But if it’ll make you feel any better I’ll call you every day.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“And by the time you come back I’ll see if I can’t have fixed you up with something else.”

Matthew smiled. “You’ve got to stop this guilt, Jenn. I think we’re about quits now, don’t you?”

“We’ll never be that, Matthew. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for what I nearly did to you. And every time I think of Ellamarie and Bob, I . . .”

“Sssh, don’t think about it,” he said, knowing how upset she got every time she mentioned Ellamarie and Bob. “We’ve got to look to the future now. It’s what Ellamarie would have wanted too. Maybe we’ve all learned something from that night.”

Jenneen’s eyes were swimming in tears as she looked into his face, and he took her in his arms. “Be happy, Jenn. Please, be happy.”

She held him tightly, and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Come back safely.”

“You can bet on it.”

An hour later Jenneen was waving madly as she caught a glimpse of Conrad and Ashley coming through Customs. Seeing her, Ashley almost cried out with joy, and ran on ahead.

“Jenn, oh Jenn!” she cried, as Jenneen caught her in her arms. “You look so wonderful. Oh, you don’t know how good it is to see you. Let me look at you.”

Laughing and crying, Jenneen did an overstated twirl then fell back into Ashley’s arms. “There’s so much to tell you, everything’s been organised. Oh Ash, this is going to be the best wedding anyone ever had.”

Conrad stood behind them, watching with amusement as Ashley turned to Vicky and embraced her. “It’s so good to meet you at long last,” Ashley said. “I’ve heard so much about you. And I’m just dying to see your new house.” She turned round and took Jenneen by the hand.

“There’s so much needs doing to it,” Vicky laughed, “and Jenneen is not the world’s greatest painter. No staying power.”

Jenneen nudged her. “Take no notice of her, I’m simply brilliant.” She looked around. “Where’s Conrad got to? Ah, Blanche’s cousin!” she cried, and taking Conrad quite by surprise she threw her arms round him. “Did you know that you’re the luckiest man in the world to be getting her?”

“Sure I know it.”

Ashley’s face was glowing. “Oh Jenn, I’ve missed you so terribly.” And Conrad looked bored as they began hugging all over again. “Where’s Kate?” Ashley wanted to know when she finally let Jenneen go again. “Isn’t she here too?”

“I’ve got the car waiting outside,” Vicky jumped in. “We’d better hurry or someone will tow it away.”

With Heathrow behind them, and the familiar lights of London spreading out on the horizon, Ashley sat forward on the back seat. “You didn’t say,” she said, resting her hand on Jenneen’s shoulder, “where Kate was.”

She saw Jenneen and Vicky exchange a quick look, and sensing that there was something Jenneen was hiding from her, Ashley reached out for Conrad’s hand. “Nothing’s wrong, is there? You said in your letter that she was coming home yesterday. I thought she might have come with you to the airport.”

Jenneen looked at Vicky again, and Vicky nodded. Jenneen turned in her seat to face Ashley. “You’re right, she was coming home yesterday, and yes, she was coming to the airport, but she’s disappeared, Ash. No one knows where she is.”

The blood drained from Ashley’s face. “Disappeared? What do you mean? I thought you said she was coming home?”

“She was, but she never arrived. I checked and she was released from prison as planned yesterday, but it seems she told her probation officer that I was collecting her, and she told me her probation officer was collecting her. And now she’s disappeared.”

“What about Nick? Have you tried him? She’ll be with him.”

Jenneen shook her head. “He hasn’t heard a word from her since she went in.”

The bitterness in Ashley’s voice was thinly disguised as she said: “You don’t think she’s gone back to her father?”

“No. I spoke to him this morning. She’s not there.”

“Thank God for that. But where could she have gone? Didn’t she give you any idea at all?”

“None. I haven’t seen her, Ash. She would never agree to see anyone.”

Their eyes locked in shared anguish. What had been a nightmare for them had turned out to be so much worse for Kate. If only that stupid, nosy old woman from upstairs who had knocked on Kate’s door that night hadn’t panicked and called the police. If only her father had had the decency to speak up and tell the police what had really happened then she would surely never have gone to prison. And if only Kate had told the truth herself. So many if onlys. But thank God Nick had managed to get one of London’s top solicitors. If he hadn’t then it was almost certain that Kate would have been charged with grievous bodily harm, and gone to prison for a very long time. As it was, she had been sentenced to nine months for assault, and was now out after six. But even after everything Nick had done for her, Kate had still refused to see him.

Two months after it had happened Jenneen had visited Kate’s father in Surrey. She had noticed, and had felt sure that she was meant to notice, the difficulty he had in moving his left arm. Jenneen had deliberately not mentioned the wound, but had pleaded with him to do something about getting Kate released. Throughout their short encounter he had remained impervious to her pleas.

“She’ll only go back to him,” was the only answer Jenneen had been able to get.

Now Calloway was sitting at home, firm in the belief that his daughter would return to him when she was released. And despite the anger Jenneen felt towards him, she felt pity too for his dying sanity.

“Haven’t you heard anything from her? Nothing at all?” Ashley pleaded.

“Just one letter. I received it last week. You can read it when we get back, but you’d better steel yourself first, it’s not the Kate we know.”

“What does it say?”

“That she feels no remorse for what she did to her father. Reading between the lines, I think she almost wishes she had . . . Well, it doesn’t matter now. There is no doubt, though, that she believes she’s been doing penance for Ellamarie.”

Ashley felt Conrad’s hand tighten round hers and realised that what he had said to her the night before, that the three of them must sit down and talk everything through, was more crucial than ever.

But first they must find Kate.

FORTY

Mrs Duff looked up from the battered old typewriter she was using, allowing her half-lensed spectacles to slip to the tip of her nose. Her eyes followed the young woman from the bottom of the stairs to the front door, and as she disappeared outside into the rain, Mrs Duff got up and went to the window.

The concern on the old lady’s face was less this morning – the young woman was looking better now. There had been a healthier hue to her cheeks, and a spring to her step that hadn’t been there before. Whatever it was, it was a change from when she had arrived, just over a week ago. Her face had been gaunt, and her eyes had seemed to sink back into their sockets if anyone peered too closely. It was because of that that Mrs Duff hadn’t recognised her immediately, but the name had struck a chord on her memory, and looking over her register she had found it.

“How is she today?”

Mrs Duff turned away from the window to find her husband standing in the doorway of the small sitting room-cum-office. She smiled, rather sadly. “Better, I think.”

“Did you tell her about the telephone call?”

His wife shook her head. “He asked me not to, so I won’t.”

Mr Duff smiled and picked up the newspaper that was lying on the desk. “You’ve taken a fondness for the lassie, Mary.”

Mrs Duff didn’t deny it. She had no idea what it was that Kate had suffered these past months, but her air of loneliness and confusion had stirred something in the old woman.

She watched her husband as he packed his pipe and settled down in his favourite armchair to read the paper. As he turned the pages, Mrs Duff stood over him, glancing down at the occasional headline. She wondered if she was doing the right thing in not telling Kate about the telephone call she had received the night before.

Suddenly she reached out to stop her husband from turning the next page. “Isn’t that that director’s wife?” she said, looking at the picture of a woman holding a baby.

“Who?”

“You remember, Bob McElfrey. He stayed here once.” She stooped to get a closer look at the photograph. “So that’s his wife. I thought the young lassie he was with was his wife, but it seems not. Do you remember her? She was American. Organised us all into chaos and still managed to make us laugh.”

Mr Duff chuckled. “How could I forget her? She took the place over.” He frowned. “She came back again, didn’t she? After that.”

“Aye,” his wife answered. “She came back with the wee lassie who’s with us now.”

Mr Duff turned in his chair to look up at his wife. “You know, I thought I’d seen her before.” He paused. “So the other one, the American, do you suppose she was the mistress? The one who killed him?”

Mrs Duff nodded very slowly. “Aye, ‘twas her all right. She killed herself after. Such a tragedy all that. They say she was pregnant too, you know.” She sighed. “I wonder what really happened there?”

Together they read the story beneath the photograph, announcing the birth of Bob McElfrey’s son. “So she’s going to call the laddie Robert,” Mrs Duff remarked. “Och dear, it fair makes your heart bleed.”

“It says here,” her husband read on, “that ‘Linda McElfrey is working closely with Adrian Cowley and Nicholas Gough, on trying to set up the
Famous Tragedy of the Queen of Cornwall
once again. The film will be dedicated to her husband, who died before it could be made.’”

He sucked silently on his pipe. It had gone out so he leaned forward to pick up a match. His wife was there before him. “The young lassie with us now,” he said, accepting the light from his wife, “why do you suppose she’s come back?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs Duff answered, shaking out the match, “but she’s here for a reason, you can be sure of that.”

She said no more, and mumbling to himself her husband went back to the paper. Mrs Duff stooped to kiss the top of his head before she went off to prepare rooms for the guests arriving later in the day.

The rain was less heavy now, but it was still cold. Kate pulled the collar of her coat higher around her face and pressed on.

There was no one else around and from time to time she stopped on the rocky path to watch the river, far below, gushing its way towards the distant loch. Sometimes the trees grew thicker, curling their twisted limbs across the pathway; and boulders that had long since fallen from the mountain interrupted the easy climb.

Finally, with the rain still streaming into her face, she reached the suspended valley. As it rolled out in front of her she felt her heart swell and wanted to cry out at the stark and unexpected beauty. She tilted her face to the sky, inhaling deeply, and willed the rain to come faster. In the distance, coming from far above, she could hear the wind as it whipped around the mountain tops. It was a gentle, almost comforting sough by the time it reached her ears.

She stretched out her arms and turned slowly, looking up at the peaks, shrouded secretly in a gently smoking mist. The rugged challenge of the mountains, the aura of victory and defiance that emanated from every gully made her skin prickle. And the gentle swell of the breeze that was suddenly whipped into gale seemed to speak straight to her heart. At last she was free.

She climbed down onto a small ledge that jutted from the pathway. Leaning against the tree that overhung the strath far below, she watched the quickening water as it splashed and roared across the rocks.

The feeling of euphoria that had gripped her body was slowly locking itself into her heart. She had waited so long for this and wanted to savour every moment.

It was some time later that she pulled the newspaper cutting from her pocket and looked down at the photograph of Linda McElfrey and her baby. Then she smiled sadly as once again she read the story that ran alongside the picture. When she came across Nick’s name she stopped and looked up to the mountains. Her heart was beating a little faster. She so badly wanted to be with him now.

Time slipped by and the rain stopped. The grey clouds became ringed with irregular circles of bright light as the sun forced its way through and coated the mountains with dark shadows.

It had been many years since Kate had prayed, but now, surrounded by the awe-inspiring beauty of nature, she found herself whispering to God.

When she had finished she raised her eyes to the sky. Her heart was full and she had to swallow against the rush of emotion that forced tears to her eyes. Not only had she gained her freedom, but by coming here she had found Ellamarie and Bob. Their presence was so strong that she felt if she reached out she might touch them. She had found them, but it was time now to leave them in peace. She knew she would never come here again.