House of Silence (14 page)

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Authors: Linda Gillard

Tags: #Mystery, #Contemporary, #Romance, #quilts, #romantic comedy, #Christmas, #dysfunctional family, #mystery romance, #gothic romance, #country house, #patchwork, #cosy british mysteries, #cosy mysteries, #country house mystery, #quilting romance

BOOK: House of Silence
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The sun though hid
Is always shining
And the darkest cloud
Has a silver lining.

The stitched picture was divided into night
and day. A silver-threaded moon and stars hung above a house while
a gold-threaded sun, half-hidden by an ominous cloud, shone down on
another version of the house. Underneath it said:

Creake Hall
Home Sweet Home.
Harriet Donovan Aged 12

The sampler hung above Rae’s desk which was
neatly laid out with pens, pencils, notebooks and a diary. There
were several very small vases of flowers on the desk, the only one
I recognised being hellebore, the Christmas rose. I could see no
evidence of any work being done and there was no laptop or PC , but
given Rae’s age, that didn’t surprise me.

When she’d helped her mother to sit upright
in bed, Viv stood aside and I finally got to see Rachael Holbrook.
Her hair was a dark, steely grey, cut in a sleek but school-girlish
bob, pulled back from her forehead with a hair-grip. The effect was
severe but quirky. Her face was long, the nose hawk-like, but
patrician. It was a strong, almost masculine face, but the eyes
were good: dark and lustrous like Viv’s, but without her twinkling
humour. Rae’s eyes looked nervous, even confused. My heart went out
to the old lady. She might be curious to meet her son’s girlfriend,
but this was evidently something of an ordeal for her.

I moved forward with the tray which Viv took
from me and set down on a side table. I approached the bed which
was covered with a Baltimore wedding quilt on which appliquéd roses
and honeysuckle intertwined. Trying not to be distracted by the
beauty of the quilt, I extended my hand. ‘Mrs Holbrook, I’m so
pleased to meet you! Alfie’s told me such a lot about you and your
wonderful books!’

The voice was querulous but clear. ‘My dear,
you must call me Rae. Absolutely
everybody
does. Even the
gardener. We don’t stand on ceremony at Creake Hall. Come and sit
beside me. Let me look at you.’

Viv placed a chair behind me, touched me on
the arm and whispered, ‘Good luck!’ She slipped out of the room and
I was left alone with Rae, who lay back on her pillows and regarded
me.

‘Lovely! Quite lovely! My son has very good
taste. I approve. Now would you be kind enough to pour the tea, my
dear? Thank you so much. If I do it, I shall only slop it into the
saucers.’

I poured tea into the bone china cups and
handed one to Rae. Beneath the quilted bed-jacket (also floral) her
hands were large and her arms sturdy. Rae’s mind might be frail,
but her body certainly wasn’t. Viv had obviously inherited her
Amazonian physique from her mother.

‘Now, are they looking after you? Are you
enjoying yourself?’ She didn’t wait for an answer but continued,
‘I’m so sorry I didn’t come down for dinner. Alfie tried very hard
to persuade me, but I simply couldn’t face it. It’s been an
emotional day. Seeing him again... I always cry a little and then I
feel unsettled afterwards. I’m happiest in my room, you see. In my
own little world, with all my things around me.’ She indicated the
floriferous clutter with a wave of her big hand. ‘Alfie said you
would come up and see me. He says you’re not the nervous type. Not
shy... I gather you don’t have any family of your own and that he’s
lending you his for Christmas!’

‘Is that what he said?’

‘Yes! I think it’s a splendid idea -
borrowing someone else’s family! I’ll be your surrogate granny if
you like. I’d love another grandchild. I only have the one.
Deborah’s boy... I forget his name now. I think it begins with D.
Like Deborah.’

‘Daniel?’

‘Yes, that’s right! Clever girl.
Daniel
. He’s my grandson.’ She nodded. ‘Deborah’s boy... But
he isn’t coming for Christmas, he’s abroad. Working. I forget
where... But he’s doing good works somewhere. Somewhere abroad...
So, you poor thing, you really don’t have any family?’

‘No, none at all. They’re all dead. I was an
only child.’

‘So was I! It’s not much fun, is it? I was
the only child of a man who wanted sons. He had no time at all for
girls. Thought they were just a drain on the finances. Unless they
made a good marriage, of course. Fortunately, I did. I made a
very
good marriage. Well, good for money and position. Not
good for love...’ Rae’s eyes wandered from my face and as they did
so, her voice became softer, as if she was talking to herself
rather than me. ‘I didn’t really love Victor... But I think he
might have loved me. I don’t remember now... Victor wanted a son.
So did my father.
He
was hoping for a grandson. As some sort
of consolation prize, I suppose.’ She sipped her camomile tea and
sighed. ‘But it wasn’t to be... Victor didn’t live to father a son,
just the three girls. He was disappointed, of course. But I don’t
think he was disappointed in
me
. Not like my father! I was a
source of
constant
disappointment to him. I was no good to
the business and no good for breeding! Oh, he was a cruel man.
Quite horrid.’ Her eyes swivelled back to me and she leaned
forward, suddenly conspiratorial, spilling tea into her saucer. ‘Do
you know, when he died I felt
relieved
? And horribly guilty,
because
I felt relieved! And because he’d gone to his grave
a disappointed man. But then - and this is very wicked of me, I
know - I thought he didn’t
deserve
to get what he wanted out
of life!’ She sank back onto her pillows. ‘Oh dear, I’m rambling
on, aren’t I? I’m sorry, my dear. So very rude of me... Are they
looking after you downstairs?’

‘Yes, they are. Viv and Hattie are really
spoiling me. And they feel like old friends already. Hattie’s great
fun, isn’t she? Viv took me on a little tour of the garden. Well,
she started to show me round, then she had to come indoors, so I
carried on exploring on my own.’

‘And I saw you on your way back, didn’t I?
Did you see me at the window? I waved.’

‘Yes, I did. I waved back at you.’

‘Did you meet... the gardener?’

‘Tyler? Yes, I did. He was cutting greenery
to decorate the house.’

‘He’s a good man, Tyler. Reliable. And
traditional
. I can’t abide all these exotic new flowers and
shrubs you get nowadays. They look absurd in an English garden! The
light is all wrong, especially in Norfolk.’ Her eyes wandered off
again, followed by her mind. ‘Tyler must be getting on now. He’s
been with us for
years
. But he never seems to look any
older. But, you know, I always say, gardening keeps you young.
Gardeners always live to a ripe old age, have you noticed? Well
into their eighties. Even nineties... I should get outdoors, I
really should. Viv says, it would rejuvenate me.’

‘Why don’t you go out into the garden, Rae?
Do you find it difficult to walk?’

‘No, not particularly. I do a few tours of
this room every day - and it’s a big room - and I do exercises for
my knees and ankles.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘Vivien nags me. Says
I need to do them to keep my joints supple. She says you don’t have
to be energetic, but you do need to look after your joints when you
get to my age.’

‘She’s right. Keeping mobile
is
important. Otherwise you seize up.’

A large hand flew up to her temple and Rae
clasped her brow, her expression pained. ‘Ah! That’s what happened
to me.’

‘What?’

‘My
mind
seized up. Seized up
altogether.’

I was in over my head already, but
floundered on. ‘What happened to you?’

‘I don’t remember. It was a long time ago...
When Alfie came to stay... When they made that film. The film for
television. Everything stopped after that but I don’t know why.
Alfie came home... They made the film... I became very famous and
we sold lots and lots of books, then... everything seized up!’

‘Were you ill?’

‘Suppose I must have been.’ She turned and
put her cup down on a bedside table. ‘I simply don’t remember. I
stopped writing, I do remember that. I just couldn’t do it any
more. My mind went blank. I thought about Tom and... and then I’d
get confused. And upset... So I tried
not
to think about
him.’

‘Tom Dickon Harry? Your creation?’

She looked at me, her eyes vague, as if she
was struggling to focus. ‘He seemed quite real to me... He
was
real! He was a real boy. My son. Alfie! But it was all
very confusing... When they made that film...’ She shook her head
and looked down at her hands clasped in front of her. ‘We shouldn’t
have done it,’ she said, her voice firm now.

‘Made the documentary?’

‘No, we shouldn’t. Frances said I would
manage, that it wouldn’t be as bad as I feared. But it was! It was
...
overwhelming
. There were people all over the house -
everywhere! And they kept asking me questions. About Tom... About
Alfie... I couldn’t sleep for worrying about it all. I don’t know
how we all got through it! Well, I do. Tom saw me through it. He
was the hero of the hour!
He
was what the film-makers were
really interested in. And the viewers. They loved him. People
always do, you know! That’s his particular quality. His ability to
be all things to all people. Well, we all see what we want to see,
don’t we?’

Before I could respond to this cryptic
utterance, Rae was off again on another tack. ‘Tell me about the
garden! Did you like it?’

‘Very much. It’s so beautiful, even now, in
the depths of winter. I think that’s because the structure is so
good. You have all sorts of solid, architectural things like walls
and brick paths, the stone benches and statues, and of course the
trees and hedges. Those are the bare bones of the garden, aren’t
they? They make interesting patterns, so you almost don’t notice
there’s not much in leaf or flower at this time of year.’

‘You’re absolutely right! The garden was
designed with winter in mind. If a garden looks good in winter, it
will look good all year round. Winter is the great test!’

‘Well, it certainly did look good. Viv and
Tyler have done a wonderful job. I can’t wait to get out there
tomorrow and have another look round.’

‘Get Tyler to show you the hellebores and
the winter sweet.
Chimonanthus praecox.
And ask him if
Iris unguicularis
is in flower yet. They often flower before
Christmas. If they are, would you pick me a few blooms - for my
desk?’

And with that Rae sagged against her pillows
and closed her eyes. I wondered how she was able to remember Latin
botanical names but not her grandson’s. I also wondered if I’d been
dismissed. I leaned forward and asked softly, ‘Have you finished
your tea, Rae? Shall I take your cup and put it on the tray?’

She opened her eyes. ‘Thank you, my dear.
Leave the tray for Viv. She’ll come and check up on me in a little
while. But I think I’ll settle down now. I’m feeling quite tired.
Too much excitement for one day! And tomorrow the rest of them will
arrive. We’ll have a house-full. Deborah and Bryan... But not
Daniel. Daniel is
abroad
, I must remember that. He won’t be
coming. But Frances will. She’ll be here. With her husband. Now,
what is his name? I get this wrong. I
think
he’s called
Henry. Is that right?’ She looked at me, her brow furrowed with
doubt.

I trod carefully. ‘I think Frances
was
married to a Henry, but I don’t think she’s married to
him now. They divorced.’

‘Really?’ Rae looked aghast. ‘You amaze me!
Nobody tells
me
anything! Has she married again?’

‘Yes, I think she did. But I’m not sure if
she’s bringing her husband. If she
does
bring someone, I
think it’s safe to say he won’t be called Henry.’

‘What
is
he called, then?’

‘I’m told Frances calls him... darling.’

Rae blinked at me for a moment, then burst
into peals of laughter. ‘Oh, that’s very good!
Darling
! What
a good idea! That’s what I should do - call everybody darling, then
I won’t have to remember
anyone’s
name. Oh, she’s a clever
girl, Frances. Always was. Tom was her idea, you know! She
suggested him and I said, ‘Yes! Why not?’

‘And that’s how Tom Dickon Harry was
born?’

‘The word was made flesh! That’s what it
says in the Bible. I remember that. It’s a Christmas verse, isn’t
it?
The word was made flesh and dwelt among us
.’

I reflected that in the case of Alfie, the
flesh had existed long before the word, but Rae seemed so delighted
with her biblical conceit, I let it go. ‘I think I need to get to
bed too. I’ve had a lovely day, but a tiring one.’

As I stood up to go she grasped my hand in
both of hers and said, ‘We’ve had a lovely chat, haven’t we? I
did
enjoy it. I hope I didn’t ramble on too much, my dear.
Did
I?’ Again, she didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I don’t think
I wander quite so much when I talk to other people. I should do it
more often. When I talk to myself - in my head, I mean - I get
confused. There are too many thoughts... Too many years... So many
things happened. And
didn’t
happen... It’s all too much for
me to keep clear in my head. You need a brain like Frances’. She’s
a clever girl. Knows what she wants from life and goes out and gets
it. I wish I’d been like that. Are you like that?’

The abrupt question threw me and I had no
idea how to answer. Eventually I said, ‘I don’t think I know what I
want from life, so it would be hard for me to go out and get it.
Even if I did know, I’m not sure I could be that single-minded. I’m
not ambitious, you see. And I’m easily distracted. I think I’ve got
what I want, then I see something else, somebody else’s life—’

‘Somebody else’s man?’ Rae’s eyes lit up
with a malicious gleam.

I thought of Marek and wondered if he was
somebody else’s man. I answered truthfully, tiring now of this
eccentric inquisition. ‘The grass does sometimes look greener,
doesn’t it?’

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