The Mercer's House (Northern Gothic Book 1) (4 page)

‘She was an artist?’ said Zanna, taken aback.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Alexander. ‘Didn’t you know? She was tremendously talented. Never made any money out of it, though.’

‘No, I didn’t know,’ said Zanna. ‘Isn’t that strange? I’m an artist too.’

‘Are you really?’ said Alexander with interest. ‘I suppose it must run in the family. You do look very like her, you know.’

‘Do I?’ said Zanna.

‘Yes. I got quite a shock when I saw you standing on the doorstep just now. The hairstyle and the clothes are different, of course, but it all rather came rushing back for just an instant.’

He looked sad, and Zanna was half-tempted to apologize for the resemblance, and for bringing back the memory of his loss. He must have seen the sympathy in her face, because he went on:

‘Oh, no need for that. It’s been such a long time that the memories have almost faded. She was a free spirit, you know. She always had to do what the muse told her. I knew I hadn’t really much hope of tying her down. It was inevitable, I suppose.’ He sighed a little. ‘But I do wish she hadn’t cut off all contact. I try not to think about it, but over the years I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that I probably won’t ever see her again. Or Rowan, for that matter.’

‘Rowan?’ said Zanna.

‘Her son,’ said Alexander.

T
HIS WAS a surprise. So she did have a cousin, then.

‘Of course, you won’t know about him,’ went on Alexander. ‘He was only a few months old when I met Helen. They came as a package. I didn’t mind, as he was a delightful little boy, and I thought it would be good for Will to have a playmate.’

‘No, I didn’t know,’ said Zanna. ‘Who was the father?’

‘Helen didn’t say much about him. I gather it was a short-lived thing, and he wasn’t keen on hanging around.’

‘She took Rowan with her when she left?’ she said.

‘Yes. I haven’t seen him since he was four years old. I often wonder what he looks like these days, and what he’s doing. He’ll be about thirty now.’

‘But didn’t she ever write to tell you where they were? That seems a bit unfair.’

‘No,’ said Alexander. ‘We’ve heard nothing in over twenty-five years.’

‘But didn’t you call the police?’

‘We called them eventually, when it became clear she wasn’t coming back. But I’d had no idea she was planning to disappear for good, you see. She said in her letter that she was going away for a while to think about things, and that she and Rowan would miss us terribly and be in touch very soon. We expected to hear from her after a week or two, but we never did. I knew what she was like, so I gave it a couple of months before I called the police. However, once they’d seen the letter and knew she’d been talking about going abroad they seemed to lose interest.’

‘Really? Even though there was a child involved?’ said Zanna.

‘Child protection services weren’t so well developed in those days,’ said Alexander. ‘He was with his mother, and there was no custody dispute, since he wasn’t my own son, so they assumed he was safe.’

They were treading on personal ground now, and Zanna hesitated.

‘Were—were you on good terms?’ she asked at last.

‘Yes, for what it’s worth,’ he said. ‘At least, I thought we were until she left me. I’m not the easiest man to live with—my first wife Janella will tell you that. I’m too wrapped up in my own world, she says; I live too much in the past, and I expect she’s right. That’s probably why I had no suspicion of what Helen was planning. I was away a lot in those days—I got invited to speak at academic conferences around the world, went down to London regularly to meet my publishers, that sort of thing. I was away when Helen ran off, as a matter of fact. That was one of the first things the police checked up on when I reported the two of them missing. The husband is the first person they suspect—and rightly so, very often. But I was away at a two-week conference in New York at the time, and once they’d made sure that was true, they said there wasn’t anything more they could do, as there was no suggestion that Rowan was in danger from his mother. After the police refused to help we hired a firm of private detectives to look for her, but they came up with nothing either. I did wonder sometimes whether she’d gone back to her family, but since you’re here, obviously she didn’t. To tell the truth, when I first got your email I hoped you might be able to tell me something of where she went, but it seems not.’

Zanna shook her head.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m as much in the dark as you are. She and my father fell out, and I didn’t know anything about her until last year.’

‘I wish I’d insisted she tell me more about herself,’ he said wistfully. ‘We might all have met long ago, and you might have grown up knowing your cousins—although you and Will aren’t strictly related, obviously. Poor Will; it was hard on him, to lose his stepbrother so suddenly like that. He was here when Helen disappeared—it was the school holidays, you see—and he had nightmares for years about it. For a long time he thought it was all his fault. He was only seven then—old enough to remember them, but not quite old enough to understand.’

‘He must have missed his stepbrother very much,’ said Zanna.

‘I think he did. When Rowan and Helen came there was a little jealousy—only to be expected, since I married Helen not long after the divorce from Will’s mother was finalized. Will was only three when they came along, and took it all rather badly, but he got over it soon enough. Look.’

He got up and went to rummage around in a low cupboard, then handed a little album to Zanna. She flicked through, and saw it was full of family photos: pictures of an older Helen than the one in Zanna’s photo, still wearing the same wide smile; pictures of her and Alexander, dressed smartly for their wedding; pictures of her with a baby and a little boy, presumably Rowan and Will. Then a photo of Helen and the two boys a few years later, standing together on the beach, with a dog sitting at their feet. The contrast between the stepbrothers was striking: Rowan cherubic, fair-haired and smiling, and Will, older, dark and solemn.

‘I have a photo too,’ said Zanna. She brought it out and handed it to Alexander, who looked at it curiously.

‘So that’s Helen as a young girl,’ he said at last. ‘And that’s your father, I presume. They fell out, you say? It’s such a pity when families fracture like that. I’m very sorry he died before she could be found.’

‘Where did you meet Helen?’ said Zanna.

‘There’s a sort of artists’ colony here in the town—a commune, perhaps. I don’t know what you’d call it. She was staying there, and I found her one day while she was painting on the beach. Or should I say rather that we found each other. I’d just got divorced, and she’d run away from her family, and I think we were both looking for something. We married very quickly—too quickly, perhaps. I’ve always wondered whether that was the problem.’

Again there was that wistful look, and Zanna felt another pang of guilt at having forced him to bring up the past. Perhaps she should have left well alone; after all, even if she did manage to track down Helen it would be too late to help her father. Perhaps all she was doing was reviving painful memories for no good reason.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t come here to upset you. I thought you might be able to give me some idea of where Helen had gone, that’s all. I know she and my father didn’t get on, but I just thought someone should let her know he’s dead.’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘And I only wish I could help you. She and Rowan disappeared, and nobody knows where to. But don’t just take my word for it. You might ask them at the artists’ place. It’s been run by the same woman for years, and she was very friendly with Helen. I sometimes wonder if she knows something we don’t, but if she does she’s not telling. Alison Maudsley, her name is. You could try her. It’s the big, pink-painted house at the end of the High Street.’

‘Thanks. I might do that,’ said Zanna. ‘If she wouldn’t say anything to you I don’t suppose she’ll say anything to me either, but it’s worth a try.’

The sun was streaming in through a big arched window, and looking out, Zanna caught a glimpse of a woman in a nurse’s uniform, pushing a man in a wheelchair down the path of the walled garden behind the house. The nurse bent over to listen to something the man was saying, then changed direction and came to a stop in a sunny spot by a luxuriant flowering creeper. She adjusted the chair to his liking, then sat down on a bench next to him and took out a book. The man shifted slightly in the chair and raised his face as if to drink in the rays of the sun.

‘That’s Corbin,’ said Alexander, following Zanna’s gaze. ‘He likes to feel the sun on his skin. He says it gives him strength. He’ll probably get up and take a walk in a minute.’

Sure enough, after a minute or two Zanna saw the nurse stand up and help the man to his feet. He waved her away, and she sat down again and watched as he shuffled slowly and unsteadily along the path. It was an uncomfortable sight, and Zanna turned her eyes away.

‘Well, I’m sorry I haven’t been any help,’ said Alexander. ‘I don’t know whether Corbin kept the correspondence from the private investigation agency, but I’ll ask him and perhaps see if there’s anything useful there. I’m not very good at organizing things, so Corbin dealt with it all for me. But one can’t go on searching forever for someone who doesn’t want to be found, and in the end he said we’d have to give it up.’

‘If you can find the file I’d appreciate it,’ said Zanna. Before coming to Elsbury she had been uncertain as to how far she was prepared to go to find her aunt, but she’d been dismayed at the mention of Canada and the thought that Helen might have gone all that way. Now it looked as if the search had already ended. If a private investigator had failed to turn anything up, then how could she hope to be any more successful? She would try and speak to this Alison Maudsley, but if she had no luck there then she might as well give up.

‘How long are you planning to stay here?’ said Alexander. ‘I do hope you’re not going to run off straightaway. I suppose you have to get back to work, but I’d love it if you’d come to tea before you go.’

‘I don’t really know. I don’t have any firm plans,’ said Zanna. ‘I can work anywhere as long as I have my paints.’

‘Marvellous,’ he said. ‘Then do come tomorrow. Or why not today, if you’re not busy? After all, it’s not every day I meet a long-lost niece. We can have tea in the garden. Might as well take advantage of this beautiful weather, don’t you think? I’ll show you around the house, too. It’s said to be haunted by the spirit of a woman who died in tragic circumstances. It’s a very interesting story.’

‘Thank you, I’d like that,’ said Zanna. She supposed she was his niece in a way, and she liked what she’d seen of him so far. His engagingly vague air gave him a childlike quality that was very endearing, and he was so uncomplicatedly friendly and welcoming that it was hard not to respond.

‘And you must keep in touch after you go back home. We can be pen pals, if you like. Or email pals, I suppose we should call it,’ he said with a laugh.

Just then the door opened and the dog Tess came running in, followed by the man from the beach, who was holding a tattered newspaper.

‘She’s been at your paper again,’ he said to Alexander without preamble, then saw Zanna and stopped dead.

‘Will, this is Zanna, the young lady who’s looking for Helen. You remember I told you about her. She’s Helen’s niece. Zanna, this is my son, Will,’ said Alexander.

‘Hello again,’ said Will. His words were polite enough but there was a wary look on his face.

‘Oh, you’ve met already, have you?’ said Alexander.

‘She was out swimming this morning when I took Tess out,’ said Will. ‘She got caught by the tide.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Alexander, a concerned look flitting across his face. ‘You mustn’t swim at this end of the beach, my dear. It’s terribly dangerous.’

‘So I gather,’ said Zanna, inwardly annoyed that Will had insisted on mentioning it. ‘I won’t do it again. I was only caught for a second, though. I’m quite a strong swimmer.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Will. ‘Those tides get even the best swimmers. You could easily be dashed against the rocks. You’d better be careful.’

‘Don’t worry, I will be.’ said Zanna, and smiled to hide her irritation. She stood up.

‘Thanks for the coffee,’ she said to Alexander. ‘I’ll let you get on now.’

‘You will come today, won’t you?’ said Alexander. ‘We don’t get many visitors, and I’m sure Corbin would love to meet you. He was very fond of Helen. I’d introduce you now, in fact, but he’s generally tired in the mornings, and not at his best.’

‘All right,’ said Zanna, after a moment’s hesitation and a glance at Will.

‘Excellent. Shall we say four o’clock? That will give me a chance to get to the supermarket and buy some more teabags, and some things to eat.’

‘Four it is,’ she agreed.

‘I’ll show you out,’ said Will, and stood back to let her pass. He shut the living-room door after them and went out through the front door with her. Once they were outside, he said abruptly:

‘Why are you looking for Helen?’

‘She’s my aunt. Why shouldn’t I look for her?’