Emily (8 page)

    Chinese lanterns, hanging round the walls, lit up the huge tropical plants. The scent of azaleas, hyacinths and white chrysanthemums mingled voluptuously with the Arpčge I’d poured all over myself. The sound of the band reached us faintly from the hall.

    ‘You are the promised breath of springtime,’ sang Calen, taking me in his arms.

    ‘There isn’t any mistletoe,’ I said.

    ‘We don’t need it,’ said Calen, his grey, dissipated eyes gazing into mine.

    You’re rotten to the core, I thought. Mad, bad and dangerous to know. Bed from the neck upwards, and not at all good for Emily. Not that Rory was doing much good for me either.

    ‘God, I want you,’ said Calen undoing the top button of my dress. He bent his head and kissed the top of my cleavage, and slowly kissed his way up my neck and chin to my mouth.

    I didn’t feel anything really, except a desire to slake my loneliness. God, it was a practised kiss. I thought of all those hundreds of women he must have seduced. Hands travelled over my bare back, pressing into every crevasse. Suddenly a light flicked on in the library next door.

    ‘Calen,’ said a voice, ‘you’re wanted on the telephone.’

    ‘Go to hell,’ said Calen, burying his face in my neck, ‘don’t be a bloody spoilsport, Finn.’

    Over Calen’s head, our eyes met. ‘It’s Deiche,’ Finn said.

    ‘Oh God,’ sighed Calen, reluctantly he let me go. ‘You see before you the most henpecked husband in the Highlands. Goodnight, you dream of bliss.’ He kissed me on the cheek and walked somewhat unsteadily out of the conservatory. Finn and I glared at each other.

    ‘You are beyond the pale,’ I snapped, ‘beyond a whole dairyful of pales. Why do you have to rush around rotting up people’s sex lives, I thought you were a doctor, not a vicar.’ I lurched slightly without Calen to hold me up.

    ‘You won’t get Rory back that way,’ said Finn. ‘Getting drunk and going to bed with Calen doesn’t solve anything.’

    ‘Oh it does, it does,’ I said with a sigh, ‘it gets you through the next half an hour - and half an hour can be an eternity in Scotland.’

    I wandered into the library and discovered a glass of champagne balanced on a stag’s head. I drank it in one gulp.

    ‘I’ll take the high road and ye’ll take the low road,’ I said, ‘and I’ll be inebriated before ye. Tell me, Doctor, you know the area better than I do, what gives between Rory and your sister?’

    ‘Nothing,’ he said roughly. ‘You’re imagining things, and you’re not making things any better behaving like this.’

    I stared at him for a minute. ‘My mother once had an English setter who had freckles like yours,’ I said, dreamily. ‘They looked really nice on a dog.’

    We went into the hall which was fortunately deserted. ‘What about your friend Frances Nightingale,’ I said, swinging back and forth on an heraldic leopard that reared up the bottom of the banisters. ‘Isn’t she missing you?’

    ‘That’s my problem,’ he said.

    ‘Look,’ I said, ‘I’m not usually as silly as this. It’s a pity you’re not as good at mending broken hearts as broken bones.’

    ‘I suggest,’ said Finn, ‘you go straight up to bed without making a fool of yourself any further. Take three Alka-Seltzers before you go to sleep, you’ll feel much better in the morning. Come on.’ He moved forward to take me upstairs, but I broke away.

    ‘Go and jump in the loch,’ I snarled, and ran away from him up the stairs. I fell into bed, preparing to cry myself to sleep, but I must have flaked out almost immediately.

    In the middle of the night, it seemed, I woke up. I didn’t know where I was, it was pitch black in the room. The fire had gone out. Where the hell was I? Then I remembered - Downleesh Castle. I put out a hand - groping for Rory. He wasn’t there, I was alone in the huge four-poster. Suddenly the room seemed to go unnaturally cold, the wind was blowing a blizzard outside, the snow still falling heavily. As the windows rattled and banged and the doors and stairs creaked, it was like being on board ship. Then I felt my hair standing on end as I remembered the ghost in the white dressing-gown that walked when the moon was full. I gave a sob at the thought of him creeping down those long, musty passages towards me. I was trembling all over. Getting out of bed, I ran my hands along the wall, hysterically groping for a light switch. I couldn’t find one. The room grew even colder. Suddenly I gave a gasp of terror as the curtain blew in, and I realized to my horror the window was open. I leapt back into bed. Where the hell was Rory? How could he leave me like this? Suddenly my blood froze as, very, very gently, I heard the door creaking. It stopped, then creaked again, and, very, very gradually, it began to open. I couldn’t move, my voice was strangled in my dry throat, my heart pounding.

    Oh God, I croaked, oh, please no! I tried desperately to scream as one does in a nightmare, but no sound came out.

    Slowly the door opened wider. The curtains billowed again in the through draught from the window, and the light from the snow revealed a ghostly figure wrapped in white, gold hair gleaming. It suddenly turned and looked in my direction, and slowly crept towards the bed. Panic overwhelmed me, I was going to be murdered.

    Someone was screaming horribly, echoing on and on through the house. The next minute I realized it was me.

    The room was flooded with light and there was Buster, standing in the doorway, looking very discomfited in a white silk dressing-gown. I went on screaming.

    ‘Emily, my God,’ said Buster. ‘I’m so sorry, pet. For Christ’s sake stop making that frightful row. I got into the wrong bedroom, must have got the wrong wing for that matter.’

    I stopped screaming and burst into noisy, hysterical sobs. Next minute Finn Maclean barged in, still wearing black trousers and his white evening shirt.

    ‘What the hell’s going on?’ he said.

    He was followed by the Frayns. She had tied her hair up with a blue bow.

    ‘Where’s Rory?’ I sobbed, ‘where is he? I’m sorry, Buster, I thought you were the ghost. I was so frightened.’ My breath was coming in great strangled gasps. Buster patted my shoulder gingerly.

    ‘There, there, poor Emily,’ he said. ‘Got my wings muddled,’ he added to Finn. ‘She thought I was the Downleesh ghost.’

    ‘I’m not surprised after all the liquor she shipped,’ said Finn. ‘I’ll go and get something to calm her down.’

    Once I started crying I couldn’t stop.

    ‘Do try and pull yourself together, Emily,’ said Fiona. ‘Oughtn’t you to slap her face or something?’ she said as Finn came back with a couple of pills and a glass of water.

    ‘Get these down you,’ he said, gently.

    ‘I don’t need them,’ I sobbed, then gave another scream as Rory walked in through the curtains, snowflakes thick on his hair and his shoulders.

    ‘What a lot of people in my wife’s bedroom,’ he said blandly, looking round the room. ‘I didn’t know you were entertaining, Emily. You do keep extraordinary hours.’ A muscle was going in his cheek, he looked ghastly.

    ‘Where have you been?’ I said, trying and failing to stop crying.

    ‘Having a quiet cigarette on the battlements,’ said Rory. ‘Pondering whether there was life after birth. Hello, Buster, I didn’t see you, how nice of you to drop in on Emily. Does my mother know you’re here?’

    ‘She was quite hysterical,’ said Fiona, reprovingly.

    ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Rory, ‘with all these people in here.’ He came over and patted me on the shoulder, ‘There, there, lovie, pack it in now, everything’s all right.’

    ‘I thought Buster was a ghost,’ I explained, feeling terribly silly. ‘I could only see his dressing-gown and his hair.’

    ‘You what?’ For a minute Rory looked at Buster incredulously, and then he leant against the wall and started to shake with laughter.

    ‘I got into the wrong wing,’ said Buster, looking very discomfited. ‘Perfectly natural mistake in these old houses, thought I was going into my own bedroom.’

    Rory sniffed, still laughing. ‘I didn’t know ghosts reeked of after-shave. Really, Buster, next time you go bed-hopping, you should take an A-Z. Just think if you ended up in our hostess’s room.’ He looked round the room. ‘Well, if you’ve all finished, I’d quite like to go to bed.’

    Finn Maclean glared at Rory for a second and then stalked out of the room, followed by Buster followed by the Frayns.

    ‘What an extraordinary couple,’ I could hear her saying, ‘do you think they could be a bit mad?’

    Still laughing, Rory started pulling off his tie. There was a knock on the door.

    ‘Probably Buster wondering if he’s forgotten some, one,’ said Rory. Sure enough, Buster stood on the threshold. ‘Rory, dear boy, just like a word with you.’

    ‘Knowing you, it’ll be several words,’ said Rory.

    ‘Don’t say anything to your mother about this, will you?’ I heard Buster saying in a low voice. ‘She’s been under a lot of strain with her ankle, just taken a sleeping pill, wouldn’t want to upset her.’

    ‘You’re an old goat, Buster,’ said Rory. ‘But your secret is safe with Emily and me. I can’t, alas, vouch for Doctor Maclean, who is the soul of indiscretion, or for that appalling couple we gave a lift to.’

    ‘Goodness,’ I said after he’d gone. ‘Do you think he was being unfaithful to Coco’?’

    ‘Probably,’ said Rory. ‘He and my mother trust each other just about as far as they can throw each other, which always seems a good basis for marriage.’

    ‘But whose bedroom was he trying to get into?’ I asked.

    ‘Probably taking pot-luck,’ said Rory.

    ‘Marina’s perhaps,’ I said, then could have bitten my tongue off.

    ‘Marina left hours ago, she and Hamish aren’t staying here,’ said Rory. ‘They were having the most frightful row when they left. They should lay off arguing occasionally, a short rest would re-charge their batteries for starting again.’

    So he hadn’t been with Marina. Instead he’d been on the battlements by himself in a blizzard, driven by what extremes of despair. Somehow that seemed even worse. He got into bed, put his arms round me and kissed me on the forehead. I could never understand his changes of mood.

    ‘Sorry you were frightened by Buster,’ he said, and the next moment he was asleep. I lay awake for a long time. Towards dawn he rolled over and caught hold of me, groaning, ‘Oh my darling, my little love.’ I realized he was asleep and, with a sick agony, that it certainly wasn’t me he was talking to.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

    FOR the first time I dreaded Christmas. At home it had been our own, cosy, womb-like festival, but with Rory there wasn’t likely to be peace on earth, or goodwill towards men. Half-heartedly I chose a fir tree from the plantation behind our house and set it in a tub, put holly on the walls, strung a bit of mistletoe from the drawing-room light.

    On Christmas Eve I went into Penlorren to do last-minute shopping and buy some little presents for Rory’s stocking. I left Rory cleaning his gun for the shoot Buster had arranged for Boxing Day.

    When I got back, weighed down with parcels, there was a car parked outside the gate. I let myself in and was just about to shout I was back, when I heard raised voices from the studio. I tiptoed closer so I could distinguish them. One was like rough sand with a pronounced Scottish accent, the other aristocratic, drawling, silken with menace. Through the door I could see Finn and Rory facing each other, like a huge lion and a sleek, slim, black panther, obviously in the middle of a blazing row. Neither of them heard me.

    ‘Well, Doctor?’ said Rory, the words dripping with insolence. ‘Why are you hounding me like this?’

    ‘Because I’ve got several things I want to say to you.’

    ‘Well, don’t say them now, Emily’ll be back any moment.’

    ‘I don’t know what devilish game you’re up to this time,’ said Finn, ‘but you’d better stop playing cat and mouse with my sister. Leave her alone, you’ve done enough damage.’

    I felt my throat go dry. I held on to the door handle for support.

    ‘Marina’s over twenty-one. Surely she’s old enough to take care of herself,’ said Rory.

    ‘You know she can’t,’ thundered Finn. ‘You of all people must know how near the edge she is. Don’t you ever think of Hamish?’

    ‘Not if I can help it,’ said Rory in a bored voice. ‘Or Emily?’

    ‘Leave Emily out of it. She’s my problem. You should really visit us more often, Finn. You’re like a breath of fresh air.’

    ‘You damned little rat,’ roared Finn. ‘You’re going to carry on as before, aren’t you?’

    ‘Well, things are slightly more complicated now, but on the whole, Doctor, you’ve got a pretty clear view of things.’

    ‘You know I can put the police on you, don’t you?’ said Finn.

    Suddenly Rory lost his temper. He went as white as a sheet, his black eyes blazed.

    ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ he hissed. ‘Your family would come out of it as badly as mine.’

    ‘I don’t care.’

    Their faces were almost touching in their rage.

    Then Rory’s control seemed to desert him. He sprang at Finn, howling abuse, his fingers round Finn’s throat.

    At one moment it seemed as though Finn was going to be murdered. The next, Rory had gone down before a crashing blow on the jaw, and Finn was standing over him, fists clenched, about to kick Rory’s head in.

    ‘No!’ I screamed. ‘No! Don’t touch him.’

    Finn swung round, his yellow eyes blazing. Then he looked down at Rory.

    ‘That’s only the beginning, Rory,’ he said. ‘I won’t be so gentle with you next time.’

    And he was gone.

    ‘Are you all right?’ I said.

    ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I do love Christmas, don’t you? It brings out those delightful histrionic qualities latent in all of us.’

    I didn’t laugh.

    ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me he was talking nonsense,’ I said, ‘that there wasn’t any truth in his accusations.’

    Rory poured himself a drink and downed it in one, then he banged the glass down.

    ‘What do you think, Emily? That’s what matters.’

    ‘I don’t think anything,’ I said, biting my lip to stop myself crying. ‘I just know you haven’t made love to me for nearly three months and it’s driving me crazy. Then Finn comes here and says all these things, and they seem to add up.’

    Rory picked up the gun from the table and examined it. ‘So, you’re not getting your ration,’ he said softly. Put that thing away,’ I said nervously.

    ‘Does it frighten you? Poor, frustrated Emily.’ He lifted the gun, his finger on the trigger.

    ‘Don’t!’ I screamed.

    He aimed the gun upwards. There was a muted explosion, the crash of a light bulb, and the studio was in darkness. The next minute a wedge of muscle and flesh hurled itself against me, knocking the breath out of mybody, pinioning me to the carpet. Then Rory’s mouth ground against mine with such intensity our teeth clashed. I struggled helplessly like a fly against a wall, trying to push him away.

    ‘No, Rory, no,’ I shrieked.

    ‘You wanted it,’ he swore. ‘You’re bloody well going to get it.’

    It was over in a few seconds. I lay on the floor, rocking from side to side, my hands over my mouth. My ribs felt as though they’d crack with agony from the dry sobs I couldn’t utter.

    Rory flicked on the side light and shone it in my face. ‘That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? You don’t seem pleased.’

    I gazed at him dumbly, I could feel the tears welling out of my eyes.

    ‘You hate my guts, don’t you?’ I whispered.

    ‘It’s your lack of guts, I hate,’ he said.

    Then, suddenly, he put his arms round me and pulled me against him. I jerked my head away.

    ‘Oh, Emily, Emily,’ he muttered, ‘I’m so miserable, and I’ve made you miserable, too. Forgive me, I don’t know what gets into me.’

    Running a dry tongue over my lips and tasting the blood congealing there, I digested this outburst. I should have tried to comfort him, to find out what drove him to these black, uncontrollable rages. But I didn’t feel up to it. Without a word, I shook him off, got to my feet, and walked out of the room, banging the door shut.