Eloise (17 page)

I was shocked and indignant.

‘Ellie never ever discussed her will with me! Of course she didn’t. I had no idea.’

‘Oh, sure. Don’t go all innocent on me. You two were as thick as thieves.’

‘Look, Ted, you’ve gone far enough. You’re being offensive. I thought you were grieving, but it’s not grief you’re suffering from. It’s anger and resentment. And it’s very ugly. I’m going home.’

I marched off down the path, trembling with anger. But he came after me and roughly grabbed my arm. I turned to
face him and felt a sudden shock of fear. He leaned his face close to mine. He looked as if he wanted to kill me and I flinched as he spat out: ‘Did you know what bloody Arthur got? Her bastard’s bastard? Did she tell you? He got a bloody fortune.
My
bloody fortune. She left it all to him and the girls.’

He was pushing me now, closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. My foot slipped on the muddy stones. This part of the path was prone to erosion. At least twice a year it was closed off to the public while the council worked to shore it up. It flashed into my mind that someone had fallen off around here the previous year, tumbling down the precipitous rocky slope. He’d been lucky. A ledge broke his fall, but he had to be rescued by helicopter. Now the path was littered with signs warning walkers not to get too close to the cliff edge.

As Ted shoved me, I glanced down to my right. Just inches from where I stood the path crumbled, breaking away down a steep and slippery slope. Far below was the sea, grey and heaving in the heavy rain. The motion of the waves turned my stomach. I felt sick and dizzy. What was Ted doing? Was his rage so great that he would push me off the cliff? And then claim I’d had a tragic accident? Would that be his revenge against Eloise for not leaving him her money, and against me for being, as he put it, in ‘cahoots’ with her?

My head whirling with vertigo, I pushed back at him and he seemed to come to his senses. He pulled me back to safety and let me go, shouting obscenities as I ran down to the beach, then up the steep lane to our cottage. I was shivering when I got home, soaked to the skin. But I was also trembling with shock, horrified by Ted’s rage. For the first time I was genuinely physically frightened of him. His hatred of Eloise was so intense, and now she was dead he seemed to have transferred it to me.

I needed Chris, his protection, but he’d left a note on the kitchen table saying he’d taken Tom and Evie to Liskeard station to pick up Sam.

I ran upstairs and into the bathroom. From the window I could see all the way down our long drive to the wooden gate which led into the lane. For a long time I just stood there, staring out at the driving rain, tense with the fear that Ted would follow me back to the house. What would I do if he did? I was alone. Our neighbour’s car was not in his drive, and the weather meant the lane was completely deserted. I hadn’t seen a soul as I ran back home. Ted had turned into a violent madman and I was completely vulnerable.

Eventually, I relaxed. There was no sign of Ted, and surely Chris would be back soon from Liskeard? I stripped off my dripping clothes and ran a hot bath.

Afterwards, I lay on our bed wrapped in a huge towel. I
must have dozed off, because suddenly I jerked up, aware of voices downstairs. I was frightened it was Ted but then Evie’s giggle mercifully soothed the loud thudding of my heart. The bedroom door opened and Chris poked his head round.

‘Hello,’ he said, smiling. ‘You having a nap?’

I tried to gather my thoughts. I so wanted him to hold me, cuddle me, tell me he would protect me. I told him what Ted had said on the cliff path, his rage and how scared I’d been. And that I was mystified why Eloise had left him so little in her will.

Chris sighed. ‘I can hazard a guess. You know I told you Ted’s not a nice man? Well, he boasted that he’d had a lot of affairs.’

‘What? You told me he thinks Ellie was unfaithful but you never mentioned
he
was seeing other women.’

‘I would have told you eventually. But honestly, Cathy, I thought that would make things even more difficult between us. Your obsession with Eloise has become the most dominant thing in your life. It’s all you ever talk about, and it’s ruining our marriage. I dread every day when we have to discuss it. So what if Ted had other women? It’s all in the past now. Eloise is dead and you’re the only one who can’t deal with it. I can’t stand to see you like this. You just won’t accept how fragile you are, and I’m sick of it.’

‘For God’s sake, Chris. Ted’s right about one thing. You
are
like some Victorian parson, just like he said when you were lecturing about bereavement the other day. You’re so bloody patronising. Of course I’m not fragile, not now, and I don’t need protecting from awkward facts. First you abuse your medical position to try and drug me and now you tell me I’m ruining our marriage. It’s the other way round. For the umpteenth time, I’m not imagining things, I’m not mad, I’m not depressed and I’m not a little hothouse flower too delicate to stand on my own two feet. Oh, and by the way, I don’t think you hear me the first time – Ted just tried to push me off the cliff.’

‘Don’t be so bloody melodramatic, Cath. Of course he didn’t. He may not be the nice guy I thought he was, but he’s not a would-be murderer!’

‘How would you know? You weren’t there.’ I sounded childish and hated myself for getting worked up.

Chris opened his mouth, then thought better of it, and stormed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I remembered that the children were here, and I desperately hoped they hadn’t heard us arguing. I took a deep breath, pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and went downstairs to greet my eldest, Sam.

I hadn’t seen Sam since Christmas. He’d spent the Easter holidays in the US with a fellow student whose parents lived in New York and I’d missed him a lot.

Tall and handsome, he was the spitting image of Chris, and, like his dad, he wanted to be a psychiatrist. He was at medical school in Edinburgh, doing well and enjoying student life. But his resemblance to Chris was superficial. In character, he was more like me. Of all of them, he had inherited my vulnerability and I worried about him; I dreaded that he might have inherited my tendency to depression. But I’d
never seen any definite sign of it; it was more an instinct that made me watch him like a hawk. And right now he was smiling, his face suffused with the pleasure of being with his family again. He flung his arms around me.

‘Mum. It’s great to see you again. You look terrific.’

I returned his hug. ‘So do you, darling. How’s Uni?’

‘It’s good. I’m really enjoying it. Hard work, though.’

‘Oh, well,’ said Chris heartily. ‘No pain no gain, eh?’

Sam had his back to his dad. He rolled his eyes at me. Chris and Sam were at that stage of a father and son’s relationship where they constantly locked horns. They loved each other, but each found the other unbearably irritating at times.

I had no such problems with Sam. He was always wonderfully affectionate towards me, and I must admit that the way he sometimes sided with me in family arguments gave me secret pleasure, just as I knew it annoyed Chris.

We went next door to the Talland Bay Hotel for dinner. A big family celebration, the first time we had all been together since Christmas. I was stupidly happy. Everyone I loved, all together, my complete circle of devotion. For the first time since Eloise’s death had haunted me in Cornwall, since I’d started dreaming about her, I felt confident that I had some back-up. That my family was whole and healthy.

But, like Eloise, my priorities were my children. That was just a fact of life.

Eve was talking about the gorgeous boy she’d seen on the beach. Like any sixteen-year-old, she could prattle on for ever about fripperies which meant nothing to anyone older. It felt strange that I could now put a name to him. She was talking about Arthur, my friend Eloise’s grandson, although of course she had no idea who he was. Tom was sniggering and sniping, but Sam listened to her with complete attention.

‘So, Evie, you think this guy is the love of your life?’

‘No, Sam. Don’t be such an idiot. I was just trying to tell you about this gorgeous-looking guy who’s washed up here in Talland. He looks really cool.’

‘OK, Sis. I believe you. Can I meet him?’

‘No. I have no idea where he’s staying.’

Chris and I looked at each other and I decided to be frank.

‘Evie, your dad and I know where he is. He was here at the hotel for a while but now he’s staying at Juliana’s.’

‘What? Why? What’s he got to do with her?’

‘Well, it turns out they’re related.’

‘How?’ asked Evie, full of annoyance and frustration.

I bottled out. I couldn’t tell her about Eloise, her baby, and that Arthur was her grandchild. ‘Oh, it’s just some distant relation from Australia. We’ll meet him soon. Juliana’s invited us round for lunch.’

Evie was thrilled. ‘When, Mum? I need to think about what I’m going to wear.’

‘I’m not sure yet, sweetie. I’ll fix it with Juliana tomorrow.’

Chris gave me a withering glance. There was not going to be much harmony between us tonight.

Much later, Chris and I went to bed in icy silence. The kids were snug, happy and tucked up, but he and I were miles apart. I hated it. I wanted and needed him so much. I wrapped my arms around him but there was no response. This man was going to sleep next to me, but separately, without any love or warmth: in fact the opposite. Complete hostility.

Was this because of Eloise? Or was it because I was such a mess, a basket case with whom he could no longer cope?

The next day I went for a walk. Not over the cliff but up the lane and round to the church. I had got up early and felt dreadfully upset. Chris hated me. He couldn’t wait to be rid of me. I loved him so much, but we had been driven so far apart. And this was all about Eloise. I knew I was risking my happiness, my husband and family because of my obsession with a ghost. I needed to lay her to rest.

So I went to look at Ellie’s grave again. To see if it could give me any clues, any insight into her death, and figure out why she was haunting me, driving me mad. I stood and looked at the beautiful blossoming mound, the lovely floral site of her burial, and thought about her death, her complete
removal from our lives, from her children’s lives, and burst into tears. I couldn’t make any sense of it.

‘What do you want from me, Ellie? I know about Arthur now, I know about your will. What else is there for me to do?’

I walked into the empty church, sat down and tried to pray.

I prayed for my friend’s soul. I asked for her to be granted peace and rest. I asked for help to heal my mind, and for the happiness of my family. I asked for Chris’s love.

But mostly I just cried.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I jumped. A tall man in a black cassock stood beside me.

Father Pete, the vicar who had presided over the renewal of our wedding vows all those years ago. He’d moved away to another parish since then and I hadn’t seen him in ages, but I was glad to see him now.

‘Cathy? What’s wrong, my dear? There’s no trouble at home, I hope?’

If only he knew. I shook my head, wiped my eyes, and asked him why he was here.

‘Sarah went into hospital yesterday to have a delicate female operation. Well, I can tell you, she’s having a hysterectomy and will be away for three months. I’m taking over till she gets back. But listen, Cathy. There’s obviously something very
wrong to make you so distressed. Do you want to talk about it?’

To my surprise, I found I did. He was always such a kind man, Father Pete. Wise, too. And maybe, because souls were his business, he could help me with Eloise.

Five minutes later we were in the Rectory. He sat me down and made some tea. Then he sat opposite me and waited.

‘You know … you know Eloise has died?’ I blurted.

He nodded sadly. ‘Yes, I heard. That’s her grave in the churchyard, isn’t it? The one with no headstone?’

‘Yes. That’s why I’m here.’

‘You were always very close, you two. I’m not surprised you’re so upset.’

‘It’s not that. Well, it is; of course I’m upset. But … it’s four months since she died, and you know that we all knew there was no hope for her. She’s in no pain now – at least no physical pain.’

Father Pete raised his eyebrows.

I was quiet for a minute. I looked up at him, saw only the wise countenance of a gentle man.

‘Father. Do you believe in unquiet spirits?’

He looked at me carefully.

‘Will you tell me all about it?’ he asked.

‘I will, but first I want you to answer my question.’

He sighed. ‘Yes, I do. It’s part of my vocation to bury the dead, and commend their souls to God. But there are times when I’ve wondered.’ He paused. ‘You’re talking about Eloise’s spirit?’

‘Yes.’

‘And that’s why you are so upset?’

I nodded. ‘ She … she … ‘ I didn’t know how to say this without seeming incredibly foolish or deluded. ‘She comes to me, sometimes in dreams, sometimes in broad daylight. She is desperately unhappy and afraid.’