Read Too Close to the Sun Online

Authors: Jess Foley

Too Close to the Sun (58 page)

Eventually she left the hall and moved back to the sewing room. She went there in the lack of having any other place she could think of going to. Just as she had before she began
slowly to pace, ending up at the window where she looked down on the stable yard. And there she saw Rhind moving about in the course of his business. Almost as if he could sense her eyes upon him, he suddenly raised his head. And for a brief moment their eyes met. Quickly she turned away and moved to her sewing table, where she sat down in her little chair, the Castle boy’s shirt beside her next to her sewing basket.

She had to get away, she knew, and she had to take Billy with her. Without the shadow of a doubt she knew that as long as he stayed at Asterleigh his life would be in danger.

But what could she do? Her instinct was to run at once to Kester. He would know what to do. But she could not, must not do that. For one thing she must not involve him in the situation in a way that could put him or Sophie in any danger. The thought briefly flashed through her mind that she and Billy could go to Aunt Edie’s but she knew that that would be no good. For one thing, Aunt Edie was too set in her ways to suddenly agree to share her home indefinitely with relatives, no matter how fond of them she might be. In addition to which she had not space to accommodate both herself and Billy. And besides, Edward would find her in no time, and he would not be content to allow her to remain away from him if he could prevent it.

The answer, the only answer, she thought, was for her and Billy to get right away, somewhere Edward could not find them, and ideally somewhere he wouldn’t think of looking. They could go abroad perhaps, to America or Australia, or New Zealand. Many young people were emigrating to the colonies and building new and successful lives for themselves, so why not she? And in an English-speaking country her abilities as a teacher might be sought after; with good fortune there was no reason why she and Billy should not make good lives for themselves.

But travel cost money. And that was one thing she did
not have. With Edward always keeping the purse strings so tight, and letting her have just enough for her essentials, there had never been the opportunity to put anything by.

But that, she eventually decided, was where Kester could help. If he could lend her enough money to be able to get away and make a new start … It would be one act of assistance and then he would no longer be involved.

She remained sitting there for some time, and then, on a decision, got up and went into the library.

At the writing table she sat and took from a drawer an envelope and paper. Then, dipping her pen into the inkwell, she wrote:

Asterleigh

Dear Kester,

Billy and I are in need of your help. I cannot go into the reasons now, but I beg you to believe me when I say that our situation is desperate, and that we must get away from here without delay
.

Will you meet Billy and me tomorrow at twelve o’clock by the church in Corster, in King’s Square? I shall keep Billy home from school, and we shall be ready and waiting for you
.

Another thing. I have to ask you this now, so that you can be prepared, is it possible that you can lend me some money? It goes without saying that I shall pay you back. But I am desperately in need of financial help; indeed, without it I cannot see that we shall get anywhere
.

I am sending this with one of the maids. Please send back a brief word confirming that we can meet. I feel sure you will not let me down, and I shall wait to hear from you
.

Grace

On an envelope Grace wrote Kester’s name and address, and then, having blotted the ink, sealed the letter inside.

And now what to do about it? Certainly she could not send Rhind; he was the last person she could ask. Nor could she go herself, for Rhind would almost certainly be watching her movements. After her observed visit to the doctor, Grace had no doubt that Edward was having her movements observed.

After a little further thought she went to Mrs Sandiston, to ask if she could spare one of the maids to go on an errand into Corster. The housekeeper replied that Effie, the maid who was due to leave for other employment, could go in for her. ‘I’ll tell her to put on her hat and coat and come to see you, ma’am,’ she said.

‘Thank you. Tell her I shall be in the sewing room.’

Twenty minutes later Effie came up to the sewing room where Grace was waiting for her. She was a tallish girl, dark and attractive, and wearing a mauve hat and grey cape.

Grace had made a list of three items she wanted the maid to get for her from the art supplies shop in Corster centre. She had listed two oil colours: viridian and cerulean blue, and a small bottle of linseed oil. It was such a small requisition, but there simply was not the money to spare for a lot more. She would like to have dispensed with the visit to the art shop altogether, but some purchases were necessary if there was to be a perceived genuine reason for the girl’s going.

Grace handed the small list to the girl, along with sufficient money for the purchase, and her train fares. And as the girl looked at the list Grace was conscious of how trivial the errand’s purpose sounded. Effie, however, accepted it without a flicker of a question in her expression.

The maid had put the list into her bag and was turning away, when Grace said, ‘Oh, Effie – one other thing …’ And when the girl turned back, Grace was holding the envelope addressed to Kester. ‘Would you take this also?’ Grace said.
‘It’s to go to Mr Fairman in Crescent Gardens. Do you know it? You’re from Corster, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘And do you know Crescent Gardens? I believe it’s on the south side of the town, near to the canal.’

‘I know it, ma’am.’

‘His house in Crescent Gardens is called the White House. It’s all written on the envelope. Can you get there all right? Will you need to take a cab?’

‘No, ma’am, I can walk.’

Grace put the envelope into the girl’s hand. ‘You won’t lose it, will you?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘And make sure you go to deliver the letter before you go to buy the oil paints. All right?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘I mean the paints are not nearly so important. So if you don’t have time to buy them it won’t matter. We can get them another day.’

The girl nodded.

‘Yes, and when you give the letter over to Mr Fairman, you wait for a reply, all right? He’ll give you an answer.’

‘Yes. But ma’am – what if the gentleman’s not there?’

Grace put a hand to her head. This was a question she had not wished to deal with. ‘Then you must wait for him.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Wait for him. If he’s expected back, then wait for him. However long it takes.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘And, Effie –’

‘Ma’am?’

‘Not a word to anyone else about it – do you understand? Don’t mention it to anyone – Mrs Sandiston or anyone, all right?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Can I trust you? I can, can’t I?’ Grace’s heart was thudding violently, while at the same time she was trying desperately to sound calm.

‘Of course, ma’am.’

‘You bring the answer back to me – but no one is to see you do it, all right?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’ll remember that, won’t you?’

‘I will.’

‘Right, then, thank you. If you leave now you’ll be in time for the train at twenty past. Off you go, then.’

She stood watching as the girl moved to the door and let herself out onto the landing.

Later that afternoon, after Billy had got in from school and had had his tea, Grace went to his room. She knocked at the door, called out, ‘It’s me – Grace,’ and he called out, ‘Come in,’ and she went inside and closed the door behind her.

‘I was coming to see you in a few minutes,’ he said. In the pale light of the lamp and the last of the daylight he was sitting on the floor making a kite. The diamond-shaped body of the kite had already been made and now he was attaching its tail, a long string with paper bows attached at intervals.

‘You’ll strain your eyes,’ Grace said. ‘This light isn’t good enough for such close work.’

‘I’m all right,’ he said. He looked down at his handiwork for a moment, then turned to Grace. ‘I want to get this done for Saturday. Roland and I are going onto the heath. I’d like to take it into school tomorrow and show him if it’s ready.’

‘I wanted to see you about school,’ Grace said. ‘You won’t be going in tomorrow.’

He gave her all his attention now. ‘What d’you mean, I won’t be going into school?’

‘You mustn’t mention anything to anyone, but some-thing’s come up, and I want you to stay at home.’

‘What for? What d’you mean? What’s come up?’

‘I can’t tell you right now. But I’ll tell you in due course. This is why I came to see you now – while there’s no one else about. Please – trust me.’

‘Of course.’ He frowned. ‘But I just don’t know what’s going on.’

‘I told you – I’ll let you know later on. I can’t tell you yet.’

‘All right.’ He nodded. ‘So what d’you want me to do? Just stay here in my room in the morning?’

‘Yes. After breakfast just come back to your room and stay here. I’ll come and get you.’ She backed to the door. ‘I shall be in the drawing room for a while now if you need me. But don’t mention anything about what I said in front of anyone else.’

‘Not even Mr Edward?’

‘No, not even Mr Edward. No one at all.’

‘All right. Is Mr Edward going to be there in the drawing room?’

‘Well, not yet awhile. He’s not due back from the mill yet.’

‘He’s back. He’s been back ages.’

‘Surely not. I haven’t seen him.’

‘I have. When I came in from school I saw him coming out of the stable and crossing the yard.’

On leaving Billy’s room, Grace went to the drawing room, and forty minutes later Billy joined her there. He had washed his hands and combed his hair. ‘Did you finish the kite?’ she asked him, looking up from her book.

‘Almost.’ He took a seat near the fire and opened the book he had brought with him. He was reading
Gulliver’s Travels
. Although he sat reading in the room, and Grace was reading also, it was sufficient comfort for each of
them to have the other’s company, silent though it might be.

A sound came at the door, and then Edward came into the room. He looked at Grace and said, ‘Why that sideways glance? Am I not allowed to take time off from my work now and again?’ He crossed to the fire, picked up the tongs and adjusted one of the burning logs. ‘Yes, I’ve been in the house some time.’ He turned and looked at Billy. ‘And how are you, young William? Are you well?’ Their paths did not often cross during these winter evenings.

‘Yes, thank you, sir.’

‘And you’re keeping out of mischief?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Edward put back the tongs, stretched his hands out to the flames for a moment then straightened. ‘I think I shall eat in my study tonight,’ he said to Grace without turning. ‘If you’d be so kind as to ask Mrs Sandiston to send up a tray.’

‘Very well.’

He gave a little nod, then walked across the room and out of the door.

‘Is there something wrong?’ Billy asked, looking in the direction taken by his brother-in-law.

‘Why do you say that?’

‘I don’t know; he looked – strange.’

‘He’s all right.’ Grace could not pursue the subject. She was wondering now whether Effie was back from Corster, and if so, whether she had managed to see Kester and bring a message from him. Perhaps, the thought went through her mind, she had not seen him. Perhaps she was still waiting for him to return to his home. Perhaps he had gone away. In which case Effie would already have returned, empty-handed.

Grace rang for the maid and the young girl Annie answered. Grace instructed her to tell Mrs Sandiston that Mr Spencer would eat in his study, and she herself would
eat from a tray in the drawing room. Then as the maid moved back to the door, Grace said, ‘Tell me, Annie, is Effie back from Corster? She was going to get me some items from the art supply shop.’

‘No, ma’am, she’s not back so far. We expected her a while ago.’

Grace thanked her, and the girl left.

An hour later, Billy said he would leave and go to his bed. Grace, much preoccupied, did nothing to dissuade him.

She ate alone in the drawing room, and close on 9.30 went upstairs to her bed. She had given up hope of hearing from Effie tonight. She could not imagine what had happened to her. The girl would surely have been back by this time.

There had been no further word from Edward, or any sight of him, and, lying in the bed, she hoped that he would choose to sleep in the spare room and leave her in peace.

She lay awake for a long time, through her mind darting myriad thoughts, thoughts of Edward, her meeting with the insurance agent, and pondering on why the maid had not returned.

Without any word from Kester, what was she to do?

Hours passed before she slept.

She awoke to find herself alone in the bed. So, Edward had slept in the second bedroom.

In her peignoir she went to the breakfast room where breakfast had been set out. Edward was already there, eating eggs and kidneys. He looked up as she entered the room and gazed closely at her, eyes slightly narrowed, as if he was studying her expression.

He said, ‘Good morning,’ to her, still watching her as he ate, but she did not reply. She helped herself to some scrambled eggs and toast, and a cup of coffee, and sat at the table sipping from the cup.

‘I said, “Good morning,” to you,’ he said after a few moments.

She inclined her head a little and murmured a good morning in return. Edward said, his face grave, ‘Did you sleep all right?’

She gave a little shrug. ‘I slept eventually.’ The toast was like cardboard in her mouth. She ate because it gave her something to do, gave her some way of occupying her hands, and to a degree diminished the need for conversation.

‘I slept eventually also,’ he said, nodding, his mouth full. ‘I had a lot of things on my mind. I still do have, for that matter.’ He paused. ‘Aren’t you going to ask what it is that’s on my mind? What are my preoccupations? A dutiful wife would surely do so.’ He smiled with this last, and she looked up and caught the smile and saw that he was toying with her. She lowered her head again and concentrated on the food on her plate.

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