Laura Possessed (18 page)

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Authors: Anthea Fraser

BOOK: Laura Possessed
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‘Funny how different your brothers' tastes in women are,' Lewis said, smiling. ‘Is Janet way out like Gillian, or stately and beautiful like Caroline?'

‘Neither. She has long dark hair and very straight brows and she wears glasses and flat shoes. You know,' she added unexpectedly, ‘I thought at one time you rather fancied Caroline.'

Lewis said carefully, ‘Doesn't everyone? She's a most attractive woman.'

‘I was very upset about it. Of course, I thought it was on Edward's behalf, but I guess it must have been Noel's.'

‘In any case, you wouldn't have approved?'

‘No,' she answered quietly, ‘I just couldn't have borne it. I'm glad it all fizzled out.'

He didn't reply for a moment, then he said diffidently, ‘And what are we going to talk about today?'

‘I don't know. To tell you the truth I feel lazy, not like working at all.'

‘Probably due to your disturbed night.' He paused. ‘Are you going to tell me about your midsummer night's dream?'

‘Oh, it was, wasn't it? I didn't realize. It was nothing to do with fairies, though.' She shivered and changed the subject quickly. ‘By the way, I bumped into Paul Denver yesterday. He wants me to stop seeing you!'

‘Oh!
Might I ask why?'

‘He doesn't think you're good for me.'

‘Wise man! I've never been good for any woman!'

‘Even Noel?'

‘Especially Noel, bless her heart. And do you intend to take any notice of Denver's warning?'

‘I can't, can I?'

His eyes moved over her small face tilted to the sun, the delicate bone structure, the curve of her throat. She looked so defenceless and vulnerable, and Noel was so strong—stronger than he himself had ever been.

‘No, my dear, I don't suppose you can.' Incredibly he felt a small stirring of jealousy. ‘Is he in love with you?'

Her eyes flew open. ‘Paul? Good heavens, no! He bites my head off every time I see him these days!'

‘Even so, I think it's likely that he is. He seems to seek you out a good deal and to have your welfare very much at heart.' Lewis could find it in his own heart to pity him.

‘I think that's because at first, when I was frightened of you, I told him about it.'

‘No wonder he regards me as a sinister influence!'

They were silent for a while and the sun slowly moved across the colourless grass. Lewis wondered if she were asleep, but he was perfectly content to relax in the warmth,
knowing
she was there and occasionally searching her face for hidden signs of Noel.

At about six-thirty he brought out the pork pie and a large crusty loaf which he cut into thick slices. There was a strong cheese, pickles and a dish of spring onions, and they ate hungrily. Afterwards, Laura insisted on carrying the dirty dishes into the kitchen and washing them.

‘Hardly on a par with the kitchen at Four Winds, is it?' Lewis said ruefully, watching her wipe down the ancient wooden draining board.

‘Hardly, but I feel more at home here.'

‘Do you, Laura?' For a moment he wanted above everything to take her in his arms and kiss her, but already she had moved away and the chance was gone. Slowly he followed her outside again. The sun was off the garden now but its heat still lingered. Laura was standing on the path surveying the weeds and brambles which ran riot.

‘You know, you can hire machinery to cut away all this,' she remarked.

‘It's not worth it. No one ever sees it and anyway it would only come back again. I'm afraid I haven't the perseverance to be a gardener.'

‘Is that a gate in the far wall? I hadn't noticed it before.'

‘Yes, it leads into the wood. Lord knows why. Perhaps the old dears who used to live here went foraging for firewood.'

‘Have
you ever used it?'

‘No, I'm not given to walking in woods. Not alone, anyway!'

‘Can we go now and see where it leads? I could do with a bit of exercise.'

‘If you like. The trickiest part will be getting out of the garden!'

Carefully they manoeuvered the treacherous wild rose thorns and clinging strands of the creepers which matted the undergrowth, and with only a few scrapes and scratches they managed to reach the gate. It was tied together with a fraying piece of rope, hanging drunkenly on broken hinges. Beyond it, the cool dim reaches of Gillet's Wood stretched silently away.

Lewis held the gate up while Laura went through. There was a dusty, barky smell and dried twigs snapped under their feet, startling birds which were pecking in the undergrowth so that they flew upwards with a clattering of wings.

‘I wonder how long it is since anyone came along here?' Laura said softly.

‘Lord knows, but I doubt if there's any need to whisper!'

‘It's almost like being in church.' She peered upwards into the green cloistered arches of the branches which met overhead. ‘Do you think we should leave a trail of pebbles to guide us back, like Hansel and Gretel?'

He smiled and took her hand and they
walked
on some way until they came to a small clearing. Probably his surmise about the firewood had been correct, because an ancient pile of crumbling logs was piled in the centre, overgrown now by moss and wild bluebells. Laura gave a little shiver.

‘It's rather eerie, isn't it? I wonder if when they, whoever they were, left this place for the last time, they realized it
was
the last time, or if they were confidently expecting to come back for the rest of the logs the next day.'

‘That's quite a thought.'

‘Perhaps it's as well that so many “last times” come and go without our recognizing them for what they are.'

‘Perhaps.'

‘Or would the very fact of knowing somehow enable you to take avoiding action and thereby cancel the necessity for its being the last time after all? Paul and I had a conversation along those lines once.'

‘Precognition?'

‘Yes. For instance, when Mother and I set out on that fatal journey, suppose some inner voice had said, “This is the last journey she'll ever make.” Obviously we'd never have set out, and perhaps—' She turned her head away from him and he gripped her hand comfortingly.

‘Don't grieve any more, Laura. She couldn't have known anything.'

After a moment, still with her head averted,
she
answered shakily, ‘How do we know? She
must
have known, just for a split second, that she was going to die.'

‘Stop it!' His voice rang out and she turned and looked at him, her face luminous in the diffused green light.

‘I think perhaps I'd better tell you what I dreamt last night after all.'

Something in her tone jerked his heart into sudden rapid beating. Every instinct warned him to stop her, to insist that he didn't want to hear about it after all, but she was already speaking again in that slow, far-away voice and all he could do was stand helplessly and listen.

‘I seemed to be in a car,' she was saying, ‘and I thought at first it was going to be one of those terrible dreams where I relived the accident. It happened every night in the hospital. Then I realized that this time was different. For one thing, the car had a lefthand drive.'

If she felt the violent tremor which shook him, she gave no sign other than to tighten her grip on his hand.

‘I was in the driving seat, but the steering wheel seemed to be miles away from me and was receding all the time and my hands were wobbly and uncontrollable, like cotton-wool.'

He said in a strangled voice, ‘Laura—please—'

‘There was a newspaper stand on the sidewalk. The headlines on the papers were
something
about Kennedy—“Kennedy flies to Frisco” or something like that. I tried to say something to you, but I couldn't seem to turn my head.'

‘To—me?' He brought the words out with difficulty.

Her eyes refocussed momentarily. ‘That's strange. I didn't see who was sitting beside me, but I knew it was you. The car seemed to be going faster and faster and I'd no control over it at all. Suddenly we came to a corner, and my useless hands couldn't turn the wheel. There was a terrific, jarring crash—I think the nearside door flew open—and almost immediately an explosion which seemed to be in my own head.' After a second's pause she added flatly, ‘I knew that it had killed me.'

She stopped speaking and the only sound in the suddenly silent wood was his harsh, grating breath. He said through shaking lips, ‘God in heaven! Oh, God, God!'

She stirred a little against him, and when she spoke again it was in a voice that bore no resemblance to her own. ‘You put something in the drinks, didn't you, Lew?'

He stared at her, his face livid, and then with a low moan pulled her into his arms. ‘Darling, I never meant you to go alone—you did understand that, didn't you? I've never forgiven myself for coming out of it alive. Noel, forgive me!' His mouth fastened on hers and exultantly he felt her automatic response
as
her arms came round his neck. Then, as he continued to hold and kiss her, they faltered, withdrew, and at last pushed frantically against his chest. She tore herself free and, with ice-cold sweat pouring down his face, he opened his eyes to stare with a kind of numb horror into Laura's frightened face. Laura? Laura!

‘Lewis—stop it—I'm not—'

Somehow the tumult inside him abated slightly, but even when he could finally speak, he had no control over the actual words. He heard himself say, ‘What in God's name do you want of me?'

But it was Laura who answered tremulously, ‘Lewis, make her stop now. Please.'

He shook his head and pulled her gently back into his arms. She stood limp as a rag doll with her pale head against his chest, scarcely seeming to breathe while in contrast his own breath was still as laboured as a pair of ancient bellows.

‘Laura—' The name was a token of his reasserted sanity, and he said it again to savour the comfort of it. ‘Laura, you must see that I can't stand much more of this.'

She didn't move, but he felt her intense concentration, as if every fibre of her being awaited his next words. When he didn't go on, she said expressionlessly, ‘I can't stand it either, but I'm not sure she'll let either of us go now. Don't you want her back after all?'

‘How can I answer that? It's a kind of
madness.
The last five years have been spent forcing myself to realize that I'd lost her. At times I was able to accept it. There were other women, periods of time when I was able to forget for a while.'

‘In other words it happened as she'd said. The peak of agony did pass with time, but you hadn't given her the chance to prove it. Perhaps that was why she willed you to come back to Brocklehurst.'

‘God!' he interrupted harshly. ‘I didn't want the chance myself! Surely you—she—can't doubt that I'd a thousand times rather have gone with her! If it hadn't been for that door flying open so that I was flung clear—'

Laura said wearily, ‘Take me home, Lewis.'

Slowly, with his arm supporting her, they made their way in silence back through the wood and the little rickety gate into the waiting wilderness of the cottage garden. The air was thickening now and it was difficult for their eyes to make out the recorder and notebooks underneath the deck-chair where Laura had dropped them hours before. He stooped to retrieve them and she accepted them with a nod. She seemed drained, depleted.

When a few minutes later he stopped the car in the driveway of Four Winds, the sound of voices reached them from the terrace and Edward called, ‘That you, Lewis? Have you time for a drink? My younger brother and his
wife
are here.'

Laura said quietly, ‘You go, but if you don't mind, I think I'll go straight in. I'm exhausted.'

‘Of course.' He had not yet had time to assess his own reactions to the scene in the wood nor its possible consequences and he was still bewildered and confused. A little normal companionship before he had to be alone again would be very welcome.

They went together round the corner of the house to the group on the terrace and Laura made her excuses and went inside. The room behind was in darkness and Caroline emerged from it, a glass in her hand.

‘If we put the lights on, we're inundated with moths,' she explained.

‘What can I get you to drink?'

Lewis moved after her into the dimness. ‘Whisky, please.' A waft of her perfume reached him on the warm air and his senses stirred with the memories it brought. Beautiful, normal Caroline. The intermittent regrets he had had about ending their affair returned without warning in a flood which overwhelmed him, coming as it did as a direct and violent reaction against the intricacies and madness of Laura.

His voice shook as he said softly, ‘How are you, Caroline?'

‘Extremely well, thank you.' Hers was breathless.

‘Are your visitors staying long?' The
question
was meaningless, simply a way of prolonging their moment alone. He didn't even register her reply. She held out his glass and he took it, feeling her tremble as his fingers brushed against hers. ‘Caroline—'

She said in a staccato voice, ‘Did no one ever tell you, Lewis, that you can't have your cake and eat it?'

Edward's voice called, ‘Can you manage, darling, or shall I come?'

‘It's all right, I've done it now.'

She brushed past him, her body momentarily framed against the window as she stepped outside. He followed her, the blood thundering in his ears. Her rebuff did not worry him, it was only to be expected. She was still very much aware of him, and the knowledge filled him with excitement.

Out on the terrace he was introduced to Toby and Janet, but it was too dark to make out their features. He sat in the chair Edward had pulled up and lit a cigarette, deliberately filling his mind with evocative thoughts of Caroline to blot out the pulsating implications of Laura's dream.

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