Singled Out (22 page)

‘Jamie’s going to leave the navy and run a poultry farm somewhere with those two daft friends of his, Boz and Foxy.’

‘Even chickens have souls,’ he said absently, turning over the contents of the bread bin.

‘I daresay they have, especially compared to Jane,’ I agreed, trying to remember where the conversation had started out and failing.

I finished the last of my late breakfast and just sat there feeling exhausted but sated, for last night I worked non-stop like someone cut open a major writing artery.

Lover, Come Back
is not far off completion, and so is Keturah – she’s pregnant with something, though until it arrives she won’t know quite what, or who – or even how. And considering what she did to Sylvanus and Vladimir, I now feel quite benign towards them both and the world in general. Sated, even.

There’s nothing like a bit of blood-letting.

‘I’ve nearly finished my book,’ I said, more for the glow of saying it than expecting an answer, but Eddie beamed his lighthouse smile at me and said warmly: ‘Clever Cass!’

The doorbell rang, and since Eddie seemed quite happy to stand there and beam indefinitely without even noticing it, I heaved myself up and went to answer it.

A young woman stood on the doorstep, and one glance told me that this must be Dante’s sister Rosetta even before she told me, for the resemblance was striking.

In her, Dante’s springy, raven’s wing hair had been downgraded to shaggy dark brown curls, and her eyes were an everyday blue-grey, but she certainly had the nose. It was not pretty on her, but combined with the rest to give her a pleasantly rangy, Afghan hound sort of appeal, like Cher before the nose-job.

‘I’m Dante’s sister, Rosetta, and I hope you don’t mind me calling?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Only Dante says you’re the local ghost expert, and you were terribly kind to him when he first got here, so he thought you wouldn’t mind answering a couple of questions.’

My mouth fell open. What did he mean,
kind?

‘I thought perhaps you might have some books on local hauntings that I haven’t found yet – you know, to add a bit of spice to the ghost-hunting?’

‘Come in,’ I said, finally remembering my manners. ‘Your brother said I was
kind
to him?’

‘Yes, and I was quite surprised, because he’s always been reserved, and now he’s so withdrawn and – oh!’

I wasn’t surprised at her losing the thread of the plot, because she’d suddenly come face to face with Eddie; and though thankfully he was wearing the clean but tattered remnants of a pair of jeans, he did look like a half-naked Saxon wandered in from the wrong century, though they probably didn’t put multicoloured beads on the end of their braids.

‘This is my brother Eddie,’ I said, but I might as well have been speaking to myself for they were staring into each other’s eyes like a pair of telepaths. Maybe they
are
a pair of telepaths, and that’s why communication with Eddie has never been entirely straightforward?

Neither of them seemed able to look away. I haven’t seen Eddie so serious since the time we were little, and he managed to open the cupboard door with a bit of bent wire to let me out, and Pa caught us.

Then Eddie’s pearly smile returned four-fold. He held out his hand, Rosetta took it, and he led her outside without a word.

‘Eddie?’ I called. ‘Rosetta?’ But without a backward look they climbed into Eddie’s van and vanished from my view.

Well!

I sat down again at the table with another cup of coffee, waiting for them to reappear, but when I looked out later the
van
had gone too.

*   *   *

Ruffled by Dante’s references to my kindness, I found it hard to fall into my early afternoon doze, and then when I did drop off I was instantly awoken by Max phoning again.

He’d simmered down about the police questioning: seemed to have put it right out of his head, strangely enough, and instead asked me all sorts of inane questions about the slave auction, which he has never shown any interest in before.

Perhaps he was feeling lonely and just making conversation, because he also asked about my new book and the Cryptograms, which is unusual: normally he just talks about himself.

He was at his most charming, too, his voice low and caressing. But somehow it doesn’t seem to be working any more, and I don’t think the fact that I was still exhausted but exhilarated after my mammoth blood-letting-by-proxy stint and so not in a receptive frame of mind, had any effect on the matter.

After that I tried to settle back down again, but before I could insert the earplugs against the surrounding Birdsong and TV babble, Dante called to ask if I’d seen his sister.

‘She left hours ago to visit you.’

‘She was here,’ I told him. ‘Briefly. But then she went off somewhere with Eddie.’

‘Eddie? Who the hell’s Eddie?’ he snapped.

‘My brother. One of them: I’ve got four.’

‘He lives with you? Why haven’t I seen him around, then?’

‘He lives in a van, he’s just visiting me. And you probably have seen him around: he looks sort of like a blonde Rastafarian.’

‘I’ve seen him,’ he said after a short but menacing silence. ‘But I don’t know why my sister would go off with him. And where have they gone?’

‘No idea. He’s old enough to stay out without telling me, and so is your sister.’

‘My sister’s emotionally fragile. She’s just come out of a violent relationship, and the one thing she doesn’t need is to get involved with some New-Age weirdo.’

‘Eddie’s entirely harmless, peaceful and non-violent,’ I told him. ‘He’s vegetarian, he doesn’t drink, and he likes to commune with the wild creatures in the woods, playing his flute.’ I didn’t mention the weed.

‘Could he possibly be communing with my sister in the woods?’ he enquired rather nastily.

It was by no means an impossibility.

‘Yours are the nearest woods, so why don’t you go and look?’ I suggested.

‘No need,’ he said in a different voice. ‘There’s an old van with big psychedelic daisies painted all over it coming up the drive. Your brother’s, I take it?’

‘Sounds like it,’ I admitted.

‘Yes: he’s getting out, and so is Rosetta. They’re coming in – and they’re holding hands.’

‘I think it’s legal in public,’ I told him. ‘I
thought
they seemed to hit it off.’

Dante put the phone down on me. I only hope he doesn’t do anything hasty to Eddie, though it’s very difficult since Eddie doesn’t tend to notice people being annoyed or irritated by him and it’s hard to hit anyone radiating indiscriminate peace and love at you.

It sounds to me as though Rosetta deserves a good time, and I only hope Eddie is it.

*   *   *

Eddie’s van still hadn’t returned by the time I went down to the pub, so perhaps he is staying up at the Hall? And what does Dante think about that?

The vicar and Jason had evidently been having a boys-together session going by the empty glasses in front of them, but Charles was just getting up to go when I got there.

After reminding me once more about the impending slave auction and trying a last, unavailing attempt to get Jason to put himself up for bidding too, he went off to his t’ai chi class. He says when he has mastered the art, he will run classes on the vicarage lawn until the whole village stops and does them every morning like the Chinese peasants.

I cannot see it myself but I’m willing to give it a go, and so is Mrs Bridges.

Before he left, I asked if he would let me hold his hand for a minute.

‘Any time, my dear!’ he agreed enthusiastically. ‘Any particular reason? Not that I’m complaining, mind.’

‘You’re a sort of control – something to judge other men against,’ I told him, and he looked baffled but pleased.

His mind was the equivalent of a sunny cloudless day, what guilt there was being the very faintest tinge of the ‘perhaps two helpings of apple pie and custard shows ungodly greed?’ kind.

After he’d gone, beaming, Jason held his hand out to me, too. ‘Go on – you’ve been dying to do your mind-reading bit on me, ever since Tanya vanished.’

‘You know I don’t read minds,’ I protested weakly, because he was quite right: I had. ‘Only emotions. Do you mind if I take a quick peek into your subconscious?’

‘Not really. Not if I can hold your hand and leer at you while you do it. I don’t see why the vicar should have all the fun.’

Jason’s subconscious was like the bits from several jigsaws jumbled in a bag, one of them a big chunk of guilt. In the ratings chart it was somewhere between Max and Dante.

There was also lust again, but rather warmer in tint, Jason being of an affectionate disposition.

‘What’s the verdict? Did she go, or was she murdered?’

‘She went. You’re guilty about it, but you didn’t do anything to her.’

‘No: except argue, and threaten to throw her out over her affair with Jack Craig, and then not go back that night until too late to ask where she was going.’

‘I know, Orla told me.’

‘She did?’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘What, you mean—?’

‘Yes, everything: but I already guessed something had happened between you and Orla, so it wasn’t a huge surprise. And we thought your argument that night with Tanya was probably because she’d taken up with Jack Craig again.’

‘Yes, it was the last straw: she’d promised me she wouldn’t have anything more to do with him, we’d try and start again, for Tom’s sake. And then she told me … threw back at me…’ He looked at me, his brown eyes full of hurt: ‘I’ve never told anyone this, Cassy, because then everyone would think I’d done away with her, but she said Tom wasn’t my son.’

‘Not yours?’ I exclaimed. ‘Do you think it’s true?’

Yes, I’m sure it is, I’ve tried to love the poor brat, God knows, but it’s been an uphill struggle. And now he thinks I’ve done away with his mother. I think he found that easier to believe than that she could abandon him.’

‘Poor Tom! So that’s why you’re always so kind, you’re trying to make it up to him?’

‘Yes – and he’s not entirely bad, you know, Cass. He’s just going through a funny age.’

Yeah, one that’s lasted for nineteen years.

‘So where do you think Tanya went?’ I asked curiously. ‘And why hasn’t she been in touch?’

‘That’s what worries me the longer time goes on, and she’s never sent for her things, or used her credit cards or anything. When I found her gone it was nearly morning, and I thought she might be up at the lodge with Jack Craig, but when I knocked him up he said he hadn’t seen her. I hit him anyway,’ he added with satisfaction.

‘Here’s Orla,’ I said. ‘Can I tell her everything?’

‘Yes: I’ve just told Charles, too. No more secrets.’

Little did he know …

When we’d told Orla she made one of her mental quantum leaps and exclaimed impetuously: ‘Cass, now you’re sure Jason’s not a murderer, and Tom’s not his son, what’s to stop you asking him to father your baby?’

‘Nothing, I suppose,’ I said startled, ‘but I think I’m going right off the idea of m—’

But Jason’s face had lit up like he’d just been handed a rather extraordinary present. ‘Any time,’ he interrupted enthusiastically. ‘Have you ditched your old man at last, Cass? Couldn’t deliver the goods, I bet. What you need is a good—’

‘No, I don’t!’ I interrupted hastily, and certainly not with Jason, whom I now find I love like a brother, and so do not wish to sleep with in the least. Besides, I’m beginning to think that he and Orla were made for each other if only he could be brought to see it.

‘Hi, Eddie!’ exclaimed Orla, waving at some new arrivals. ‘We don’t often see you in here. Are you joining us? And your friend?’

Turning round, I was pleased to see that Eddie’d put on a T-shirt and sandals. With the rents in his jeans you couldn’t say he looked respectable, but clean and reasonably decent providing he sat down carefully.

‘Hello, Rosetta,’ I said, ‘Your brother was looking for you earlier. This is Dante’s sister,’ I added for Orla and Jason’s benefit, and introduced them.

Rosetta smiled shyly. ‘I’ve seen Dante. I went to get the key of the lodge for Eddie, so he can use it if he wants to.’

‘Yes, I’ve moved my van up to Kedge Hall.’ Eddie explained. ‘Parked up behind the lodge. Rosetta wants me to help her do a few things round the house and garden.’

They smiled at each other, hands entwined. It was quite sweet, really. I’ve never seen Eddie in love before.

‘Does Dante know?’ I asked.

‘Yes, I told him,’ Rosetta said innocently. ‘He’d asked me to look for a handyman/gardener for the lodge, but I’m sure he didn’t expect me to find one so quickly!’

‘No, it must have been quite a surprise,’ I agreed.

‘Are you going to join us?’ Jason asked, who’d been sitting there grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat. ‘We’re celebrating: I’m going to father Cass’s children.’

Even Eddie looked a trifle startled.

‘No! I mean, just
maybe,
but if so only by artificial—’ I protested, but Jason wasn’t listening.

‘I’m ready when she is,’ he declared, trying to put his arm around me.

‘Thank you, Jason, but Orla jumped the gun a bit. I only meant—’

‘I know what you meant,’ he said, giving me a squeeze that took my breath away and so rendered me speechless and seething in silence.

‘I didn’t realise! I mean, I must have misunderstood when Dante said that Cass had…’ began Rosetta, looking doubtfully from me, wheezing and trying to fend Jason off, to Orla who was smothering laughter, and Eddie looking puzzled.

‘It’s a joke,’ I gasped. ‘Look Jason, get off me! I didn’t say I would—’

His phone belted out a loud Bond theme, drowning me out. ‘Damn, it’s my late night customer!’ he said, releasing me so he could answer it.

I moved out of his reach, re-inflating my lungs.

‘Yes, yes!’ he said ungraciously into his phone. ‘I’ll be there in five minutes.’ He snapped it shut and looked irritated: ‘I’ll have to go and open the shop up, he’s a big spender and he’s got to leave early tomorrow.’

‘I know,’ Orla said. ‘He’s going to stay overnight with me. I’d better go home soon so I can let him in, I suppose, but he’ll be ages in your shop: he always is.’