Presence of Mind (11 page)

‘Murderers lurking in the bushes,' I finished for him. ‘Yes, I suppose you're right. I'm quite sure she'd never accept a lift in a car, because we've drummed that into her ever since she was tiny.'

We sat in silence for a while, busy with our thoughts. At one point I said, ‘Shouldn't you be at work?'

‘I'm visiting a client,' he answered with a faint smile. ‘Actually, I have visited one, and no one's checking up to see how long it took me to get back to the office. I just wanted to pop in and see how you were. As I said, I thought Lance would be here.' He paused. ‘I can imagine he would go to pieces if anything happened to Briony.'

It might have been my over-active imagination, but his faint stressing of the last word managed to convey a host of things he could never say outright. Even so, I resented it and childishly removed my hand from his. ‘I'll ask Mrs Rose to make some tea. Poor woman, she's hardly done anything else for the last – how long is it? It seems weeks, but I suppose it's still only two days.'

‘How's Lance getting on with Stella?' Edgar asked as we sat drinking it. ‘Has he started painting her yet?'

‘She's only had one sitting. She's due again tomorrow. I suppose I'd better put her off. That is, unless

‘Cynthia was saying Stella seemed more concerned about missing her hair appointment than anything else!' He put down his cup and saucer. ‘I suppose I really ought to be going, but –'

‘I'm all right now, Edgar,' I said quickly. ‘You came at exactly the right moment and I'm very grateful. Don't worry about me.'

‘I do worry about you, though. No one else seems to.' Again the implied criticism of Lance.

I said wryly, ‘I do enough worrying on my own account to exonerate everyone else! Really, though, I'm much better now. I suppose I'd been bottling things up.' I stood up and he did the same. He started to move towards me but I slipped past him and led the way to the door. ‘Give my love to Cynthia,' I added, less than sincerely. He nodded, hesitated, and then, with a little pat on my arm, walked out of the front door. I was still watching him drive away when the phone rang.

‘Yes? Hello?'

An infuriating buzz, a click, and then, rather faintly, a man's voice, with a strong Scottish accent. ‘Would that be Mrs Tenby speaking?'

I felt the sweat break out from every pore of my body. Ransom demand? Some distant hospital reporting an accident? ‘Yes?'

‘I'm not hearing you very well.'

I raised my voice. ‘This is Mrs Tenby. Who's that?'

‘Rutherbrae Police Station, Glasgow, ma'am. We have your daughter here.'

Everything swam in an eddying circle. I gripped the phone and closed my eyes tight.

‘Hello? Mrs Tenby?'

‘Yes, I – I did hear you. Is she all right?'

‘She's a wee bit confused, seemingly. Would you like a word with her?'

‘Oh, please!' She was safe! Briony was safe! Everything would be all right now. And then came the hesitant voice across all those miles.

‘Mother?'

‘Oh darling, thank God!' I fought for control. ‘Are you all right?'

‘I seem to be.' Her voice shook. ‘I don't know what happened.'

‘Never mind that, sweetheart. You stay there at the police station and we'll come up on the first available plane and collect you.'

‘Please hurry.' The break was in her voice again.

‘We'll be with you in a few hours.'

Tremblingly I replaced the phone and turned to see Mrs Rose hovering in the kitchen doorway, hope struggling with disbelief on her face.

‘It was Briony!' I said jubilantly. ‘She's all right. We're going to collect her straight away.'

‘Oh, ma'am.' The poor soul's lips were quivering. ‘I'm so –'

I nodded to show that I understood and she turned back into the kitchen, quietly shutting the door. Spontaneously I dropped to my knees, bowed my head, and said to anyone who might be listening, ‘Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!'

It wasn't until I phoned Lance and, after his first joyful exclamation, he repeated incredulously, ‘She's in
Scotland
?' that the full impact hit me. It was to the country which she loved but had hysterically refused to visit that Briony's alter ego had taken her. Somehow, I knew fearfully that this was of tremendous significance.

My forebodings increased when, minutes later as I was quickly packing an overnight bag, Lance returned home and came up the stairs two at a time,

‘I couldn't ask any questions on the phone – I was in the principal's study – but tell me everything now. Whereabouts is she?'

‘At a place called Rutherbrae. I think he said it was Glasgow.' Lance's face froze. ‘
Rutherbrae?
'

‘Yes. Why?' I gazed at him apprehensively. After a moment he said tonelessly, ‘I had a flat there when I was at art school.'

‘Perhaps you mentioned it some time and she subconsciously remembered it.'

‘I'm damn sure I didn't. We just thought of it as Glasgow.

Why the hell she should have chosen that particular –'

‘We don't know that she did choose it, Lance,' I reminded him quietly.

‘No.' He moved his tongue over his lips. ‘How did she seem?'

‘Confused, according to the police. She said she didn't know what had happened.'

‘Have you phoned the airport to book a flight?'

‘There's no need now there's the shuttle service. There are planes every hour or so and we get the tickets actually on board. All we have to do is catch the first flight we can.'

He stood irresolutely in the middle of the room. I said, ‘Have you enough petrol to get us to Heathrow?'

‘Yes, luckily I filled her up this morning.'

‘I've packed your night things and a clean shirt. We might as well go straight away, then.' I noticed with concern that there was sweat on his forehead. ‘Are you feeling all right, Lance?'

‘Yes, yes, fine.' He brushed the question impatiently aside. ‘She's not hurt in any way?'

‘I don't think so.'

‘Has she been up there all the time?'

‘I've no idea. We'll have to be careful not to overwhelm her with questions.' I steered him gently in the direction of the door and followed with the case. ‘Mrs Rose, will you phone Mrs Pomfrett and cancel the sitting for tomorrow? And perhaps you'd also ring Mrs Pemberton and Mrs Staveley to let them know Briony's safe and we're going to bring her home.'

‘Yes, of course. What time shall I expect you back, ma'am?'

‘We probably won't want to be up too early in the morning. I should think we'll catch a plane about lunch time and be home between four and five. It takes longer to get to Suffolk from Heathrow than to fly from Glasgow!'

I was marvelling at my regained control. Lance seemed incapable of taking command. I wondered a little impatiently why he was still so pale and drawn now that we knew Briony was safe.

We drove almost in silence to the airport. Every now and then Lance would ask a question which I answered as best I could. For the rest he concentrated almost entirely on driving, his face set and withdrawn. The remembered closeness there had been between us the previous night only emphasised the vast distances separating us now. He had turned blindly to me in Briony's absence. Now she was coming home. I had served my purpose; he had no further need of me. Unwisely I found myself remembering the comforting shelter of Edgar's arms and hastily shuttered the memory away. It was no use being bitter and full of self-pity. Lance had never promised to love me. His love was entirely for Briony and he had made the fact clear from the very first.

Heathrow was a moving morass of people, of jostling porters with trolleys, of luggage and disembodied voices booming across the huge spaces.

‘You'd better arrange to hire a car the other end,' I said practically. He turned into a phone booth and began to leaf through the lists of car hire firms. He dialled, spoke for a few minutes, and rejoined me. Close together but untouching we moved with the stream in the direction we'd been shown. The evening was cloudy and warm and London lay grey and listless as we climbed steeply, the beating pulse of the city undetectable from this altitude. It seemed we had hardly straightened out into level flight before the note of the engines changed again as we started the long descent

Renfrew, too, was cloudy and slightly less warm. The hired car awaited us and with the minimum of formalities we were driving again, past buildings of grey stone, dull and colourless after the pastel shades of Suffolk. Was it really only a week since I'd had tea with Jan and told her of my meeting with Lance? I had little imagined that I should be in Scotland again so soon.

‘Do we have to go through the city centre to reach Rutherbrae?'I asked.

‘No, it's on this side of town.' His face was white and shining, his lower lip in shreds where he had been chewing it. He said, almost under his breath, ‘Twenty years, and it's hardly changed at all.'

We found the police station without any difficulty since it was opposite the bus terminus. As we went inside, Lance clutching my elbow, the duty sergeant glanced up and came round the desk to meet us.

‘Mr and Mrs Tenby?'

‘Yes. Where is she?'

‘She's lying down just now, sir. If you'll take a seat I'll send a woman police constable to fetch her.'

‘Lying down?'

‘She was still a mite distressed. The police doctor gave her a sedative.'

Moments later a fresh-faced woman in uniform appeared leading Briony by the arm. She looked half asleep. Her hair was tousled and the crisp cotton dress in which she had set out for school on Tuesday morning was dirty and creased. She caught sight of us, and I saw her eyes widen as they rested on Lance, with a wild, questioning uncertainty. Then he had moved swiftly forward and caught her into his arms. Over his shoulder the white disc of her face still retained an expression of puzzled anxiety. She gently extricated herself and came into my arms. I could feel her trembling. She said haltingly, ‘Mother, I'm sorry. You must have been frantic. I just don't know –'

‘Hush, darling, it doesn't matter now. We've plenty of time to sort it all out.'

The routine for releasing her into our care was duly completed and we drove straight to the Lanark Hotel. It was large and impersonal and catered mainly for businessmen. We were able without any trouble to book a double and a single room with a communicating bathroom, and as soon as the porter had left us Briony lay down on one of the beds and closed her eyes. Lance watched her anxiously.

‘Do you feel like telling us everything you can remember?'

‘It won't take long. I hardly remember a thing.' Her lip quivered and she caught it quickly between her teeth. Lance sat on the bed beside her and took her hand. I stayed unmoving by the dressing-table, watching them both.

‘I remember saying good-bye to you in the dining-room, and hoping the sitting with Mrs Pomfrett would go well. And – that's it.' Her eyes were still shut, but slow tears were seeping beneath the lids.

‘What about leaving the house?' Lance prompted gently. ‘Can you remember that?'

‘Vaguely. Yes – because I passed the postman in the drive and asked if there was anything for me. I'd forgotten that bit.'

‘There, you see, your memory's starting to come back already.'

She shook her head hopelessly.

‘Try again, sweetheart. Did you go to Rushyford along the main road or across the fields?'

‘I don't know. Really I don't.'

‘Do you remember catching a bus?'

‘No, I wanted some fresh air.'

‘And you've no recollection at all of what happened next?'

‘
No,
Daddy.' She paused, then added in a poignant little whisper, ‘Please don't keep asking me. I've tried so hard to remember.'

‘What's the next thing you can remember?' I asked.

‘Standing in a strange street this afternoon. Quite literally that. In fact, I was looking in a shop window. I could see tubes of paint and brushes laid out and my own face reflected in the glass. And for one utterly horrifying moment I didn't recognise myself. I didn't look as I
expected
to look.' She drew a deep, steadying breath and opened her tear-filled eyes. ‘Then almost at once I remembered, and at first I was so thankful to know
who
I was that it didn't seem to matter
where.
When I found out I was in Scotland I just couldn't believe it. I had been so against coming, and to find that I'd come in spite of myself – well, that really was creepy. It was as though I'd no longer any control over what I wanted to do.' She looked up suddenly. ‘The policeman told me it's
Thursday.
'

She was begging for reassurance but we could only nod confirmation.

‘Then where have I been since I left home?' Her voice rose. ‘Where did I spend last night? And Tuesday night? It's just – ludicrous! I can't suddenly
lose
two whole days like that!'

‘It'll come back gradually, dear,' I soothed, with more conviction than I felt. ‘You've already remembered about seeing the postman.' But that might actually have been her last moment as Briony Tenby before she slipped into – whom? Briefly I wondered if anything might be gained from questioning the postman. He might even have seen the change-over without realising it. But if such a drastic split had indeed occurred, it might be better if she never recovered the memory. Again I caught the flicker in her eyes as she looked up at Lance.

I said with an effort, ‘I don't suppose any of us has eaten much in the last few days. It's nearly eight-thirty. I suggest we go down for dinner and then all have an early night.'