The Mill House (17 page)

'Stop making this about her,' he raged. 'It's about us, you and me, and if you threaten me again like that you'll find out how it feels when we both play that game.'

Her eyes widened with astonishment. 'What exactly is that supposed to mean?' she demanded.

'It means, if you don't start facing up to a few realities while you're down there in Cornwall you won't be welcome back,' and practically throwing his cup into the sink, he stormed up the stairs and slammed out of the front door.

By the time Julia turned off the M4 to start heading north towards Cirencester, she was aware that signs were passing her by that she was barely noticing, and for minutes at a stretch she actually forgot where she was going. She hadn't spoken to Josh again before leaving, nor did she want to, though after her anger had begun to lose some of

its force a wretched insecurity had started to take root, making her wonder if she was insane to leave London now, while Sylvia was still there. She kept trying to reassure herself that he wouldn't dare to go and see her again, but she had no way of knowing that, for she still didn't have any clear idea of how serious their relationship was. All she knew was that so far he'd failed to promise to give her up.

As the tortuous image of them together threatened to close in on her again, she summoned what was left of her reserves to push it away, and decided she really must focus on something else for a while, or tiredness would continue to play cruel tricks on her mind and sap what was left of her energy. Picking up the mobile, she kept it hidden from view as she tried her sister's number, but the answering machine was still on, so she simply rang off. She'd already left a message asking Pam to be at their mother's around two, but had had no reply, so she had no idea if Pam was going to be there or not. Right now Julia wasn't even sure if she cared, and signalling to turn off the main road she began winding through familiar open countryside, until she finally arrived at the sleepy Cotswold backwater of Deakins.

To call the place a village would be overstating it, for it was more of a sprawling hamlet, with no shop, no pub or school, just a phone box, a medieval church and a monstrous water tower where a monstrous water tower should never be. Were it not for such an eyesore the place might be considered chocolate-box, particularly in summer,

when plumbago and nasturtiums tumbled over the old stone walls and all the perfectly thatched roofs glistened in the afternoon sun. Today; it loomed out of the mizzle as a dismal, creepy enclave, tight with secrets and riven with ghouls - but then, she'd never liked it, so even on brighter days it failed to appear quaint or welcoming to her.

Passing her sister's gingerbread cottage, which was one of the smallest in a row behind the phone box, she drove the Porsche slowly along the narrow, winding road, past the twin pillars of Deakins Manor, and on to where the road split in front of the monster tower. As she gazed up at it she found herself being drawn into a memory of her father standing in her uncle's garden, not long after the offending object's arrival, and commenting, 'Mushrooms seem to be doing well, George.'

Her uncle had failed to see the funny side, while Julia and her father had laughed for weeks. Another remark about the very same tower, had caused them similar amusement whilst, as a family, they were sitting in her uncle's garden enjoying a sunny day. Her father had winked at her secretly, then innocently stated, 'You're a bit like a goblin with his own private toadstool sitting out here, George.'

Since her uncle was a veritable giant of a man, to her ten-year-old ears the comment had been hilarious, and was made even more so by George's thunderous expression as he'd glared at his brother-in-law. He'd looked so fearsome, though, that she'd been half afraid he might eat her father when he wasn't looking. Her

parents had had a dreadful row that night, since her mother had never appreciated the way her husband took such delight in goading her brother.

As the echo of laughter receded back through the years Julia felt herself engulfed by a wave of sadness that, emotional as she already was, could easily have submerged her in a welter of grief, for she was suddenly missing her father more than ever before. However, she knew the sorrow was fuelled by self-pity, and that it wouldn't do to fall victim to any kind of weakness when she was about to face her mother. So pulling herself together, she slipped the car back into gear, and edged a few feet further on to turn in left through the five-bar gate that she'd never, as far as she could remember, seen closed. Strange that, for a family who was so stand-offish, but perhaps they were only like it with her - indeed, they probably were, because she couldn't recall her sister ever complaining of feeling shut out, or barely tolerated. On the contrary, Pam was so plainly at home here that Julia often wondered whether she might persuade her limp personality of a van- driver husband to close the fifty-yard gap that currently existed and move right into the house itself. And no-one, Julia knew, would be happier than Alice to have Pam's daughter, Rachel, under the same roof, because there could be no doubt of how besotted Alice was with the child. Admittedly, Rachel was completely adorable. Julia just wished that her mother would, once in a while, put herself out to show Shannon and Dan even a fraction of as much affection.

The grounds of their so-called family home were all smooth lawns, thrusting trees and immaculately tended beds, since gardening was her uncle's passion, along with hunting, shooting, model- making and God. Bridge was her mother's absorbing interest, and she didn't have the faintest idea what Aunt Rene's might be, because she'd never heard the mousy little creature express a preference for anything in her life. Julia wouldn't mind betting, however, that she'd rather not be sharing her home with her stridently bossy sister- in-law, but maybe that was just Julia projecting her own feelings onto the case again, for personally she could hardly think of anything worse than living with her mother.

The house itself was long and grey, with small, casement windows, several chimneys and a horribly forbidding front door. Once again she was allowing her prejudice to dictate, for most people would describe it as an extremely grand example of early-eighteenth-century craftsmanship. In those days the door was probably the gateway to an asylum for raving lunatics, which seemed suitable in view of its current location, she'd long ago decided.

By the time she got out of the car her mother was standing at the door, looking as primly immaculate as ever in a brown cashmere twinset and pearls, tweed skirt and brogues, though she was hardly frumpy. She was even taller than Julia, with immaculately styled salt-and-pepper hair, electric blue eyes that she'd passed on to Shannon, and a full-lipped mouth that was sexy on her younger daughter, and might once have been on

her, before it had become pleated by a lifetime's disappointments and grudges. If she smiled more it would probably still be lovely, Julia had occasionally thought, and they might even get to see the dimples her sister had inherited, but they were almost as rare a sight as her mother's private parts, which Julia had never seen. Nor, she thought, as she went to greet her, would she want to, for a more chilling prospect was hard to imagine.

'Oh dear,' Alice Hope sighed, looking straight past Julia to the Porsche, 'I don't think Uncle George will want that parked where people can see it. Maybe you should take it round the back.'

Maybe you could greet me like a normal mother, starting with hello, Julia was thinking, as she turned back to look at the car. It made her feel suddenly protective of Josh, because he loved it, which was mindlessly stupid considering the fact it might have been bought to impress Sylvia, but how did she know her addled brain was going to react that way? 'I think it looks just fine where it is,' she replied, tilting her head to one side, as though assessing the Porsche's aesthetic value.

Alice sighed. 'Do you always have to be difficult?' she said, eyelids fluttering in exasperation.

Julia smiled benignly and waited to be invited inside.

'Have you put on weight?' Alice enquired, standing aside. 'Is that why you're wearing those ghastly clothes? It does no good. It shows in your face.'

'I'm wearing Nicole Farhi, actually, and I'm sorry if my face offends you.' Somehow she kept

smiling, while inside, annoyingly, she wanted to cry. Don't do this, she scolded herself firmly. If you let her get the upper hand now, you'll never get it back again. 'So how are you?' she asked chirpily, as her mother closed the door. 'You're looking good. You definitely haven't put on weight, and your clothes are lovely. We must go shopping together.'

'We're all fine, thank you very much,' Alice responded, ignoring the sarcasm. 'Aunt Rene was delighted to receive the birthday card you sent. It was good of you to remember.'

'Did you have a party?' Julia asked, trying not to be cowed by the horribly gloomy entrance hall, with its grotesque animal trophies and borrowed family crests. She'd never felt comfortable in here, nor had her father, for they'd often wondered if her uncle was sizing them up for a spot over the mantel.

Alice didn't deign to reply 'Come through to the drawing room,' she said. 'There's a fire in there. Have you eaten?'

'I'm fine, thank you. I wouldn't mind a triple whisky though.'

Ignoring her again, since she knew very well that her uncle strongly disapproved of alcohol, Alice pushed open a set of double doors and led the way into the only room in the house Julia had ever felt to be normal, possibly because it was the only one with furniture that wasn't an ordeal to sit on.

'Have you spoken to Pam?' Julia said. 'I left her a message asking her to meet me here.'

Alice's eyebrows arched. 'She's away visiting her father-in-law until tomorrow,' she responded.

Julia nodded, then to be polite, said, 'How are Uncle George and Aunt Rene? Are they here?'

'They should be home soon. They're attending a meeting of the agricultural committee for the local council. Now, what can possibly be so important that you've had to drive all this way to talk to me in person?'

'Aren't you worried?' Julia couldn't help asking. 'I mean, please don't think there's anything wrong with either of the children, because there isn't, provided we forget the seizure Daniel had a few weeks ago, of course ...'

Alice's hostility cracked a little. 'How is he now?' she asked, exhibiting a trace of grandmotherly concern.

'OK. It was just a blip, we think.'

'He's a fine boy. We don't see enough of him.'

You wouldn't see anything of him at all, if it weren't for Josh, Julia was thinking.

'Or Shannon. How is she?'

'Growing up. Wanting a boyfriend. Being a handful. I suppose much like I was at her age.'

Alice's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'I hope you're not here to start dredging all that up again,' she snapped.

Julia was about to deliver another biting response, when she decided to stop herself. The last thing she needed today was another harrowing scene, especially with her mother, and since she had no idea how Alice was going to respond to the news of her ex-husband's death, she could at least, if only for her own sake, try to break it to her gently. 'No, I'm not here for that,' she said. 'Not exactly.'

Alice stiffened. 'What does not exactly mean?' she demanded

They were both still standing, so Julia said, 'Can we sit down? I think we should.'

Alice immediately dropped to the chair behind her, and sat ramrod straight. Julia took the furthest end of the sofa.

'I had a phone call yesterday,' she said, 'from a solicitor in Bodmin.'

Before Alice could respond the door opened and her brother came in. 'Ah, George,' she said. 'Julia's here. She was just telling me about a phone call she received yesterday.'

Julia rose to her feet and tried to stop her skin crawling, for though her uncle, enormous as he was, was a handsome, even congenial-looking man, with bushy grey hair and bright grey eyes, she'd never been able to forget the nightmare he'd once subjected her to following a particularly horrible showdown with her mother - over her father, of course. The humiliation and pain had been total, as he'd locked them both in her room and forced her to pray and pray until she'd been reduced to a gibbering wreck of subjugation and penitence. He'd then ordered her to remove her jeans and panties to receive her just punishment for a disobedience that could not be tolerated by him or his god. It was the only time it had ever happened, but even now, all these years later, it was impossible for her to look at him without remembering and hating. For his part, he seemed to have banished it completely from his mind, for when he wasn't spouting penitential psalms from his little Treasury of Devotion, or some other godly

verse he had crowding his head, he generally treated her with a much greater warmth than her mother could muster, and had even, on occasion, taken her side when she and her mother fought. That had never happened when the issue was her father, of course, on that front brother and sister were fully united.

'Julia,' he said, reaching for her hand. 'What a pleasure. How are the children? And Josh?'

'They're all fine, thank you,' she answered, dutifully hugging him and trying not to cringe. 'And you?'

'Tip-top,' he chuckled. 'Yes, tip-top,' and removing his horn-rimmed specs he gave them a wipe with the bottom of his Fair Isle sweater.

'Is Aunt Rene joining us?' she asked, suddenly wishing Josh was with her, for he handled her family so much better than she ever did.