The Seven Stars (8 page)

‘
You look in need of this,’ he said. ‘Come and sit by the fire.’

Obediently Helen lowered herself into the deep
, winged armchair. He handed her a glass and seated himself opposite her, his eyes on her face.

‘
That girl’s death gave you a shock, didn’t it?’ he said quietly. ‘Why, when you didn’t even know her?’

She was silent for a moment
, staring into the balloon glass in her hand. She wasn’t sure why she’d not mentioned seeing Molly — it had been purely instinctive. But, having not done so, she felt she couldn’t now.

‘
It’s just that I was caught up in the drama,’ she hedged, ‘when that man came to call an ambulance. I felt — involved.’

He didn
’t comment, suspecting, perhaps, that she was hiding something. Changing the subject, she said, ‘Where did everyone go?’

‘
To their private sitting-room. It leads off the office,’ he added, seeing her look blankly round for an appropriate door.

‘
That explains it. Are their bedrooms through there, too? There don’t seem to be enough doors upstairs.’

‘
No, those wings at the front each contain a bedroom and bathroom — left side Cains, right side Warrens.’

‘
How convenient.’ Helen paused. ‘I suppose you’ve met Dominic and Caroline before?’

‘
Oh yes, several times. Her father’s dying of cancer, so they come up quite regularly. In fact, as a long-term resident, I’ve met various friends of the family — and family too, of course. The Cains have a daughter living in Erlesborough and the Warrens two sons in London. They all drop in from time to time.’

‘
I gather the Warrens were abroad for some years?’

‘
That’s right, in South Africa. I often wonder if they regret coming back. Nicholas fills in his time as a business consultant, which involves a fair amount of travelling, but Kate seems pretty restless. It’s hardly surprising; she has a degree in modern languages and is a pretty high-powered lady. All she’s doing at the moment is some occasional translating and faffing around here. It must drive her potty.’

‘
What about the Cains?’

‘
Quite a different story; neither of them has ever lived more than twenty miles from here. Stella freely admits Kate has the brains in the family, but she’s an excellent cook and manages this place beautifully. She once told me she and Gordon were childhood sweethearts.’

‘
And Kate and Nicholas weren’t?’

‘
No, they met at university, and according to Dominic, she was considered to have done well for herself, the Warrens being one of the best-known families in the county. However, that could just be Dominic being Dominic.’

‘
What a mine of information you are!’ Helen said lightly. ‘And what does Gordon do, when he’s not behind the bar?’

‘
When he’s neither behind the bar nor poring over his charts, he’s a feature writer for
Broadshire
Life
.
’

‘
His charts?’ Helen queried.

‘
He’s a would-be astrologer, but at the moment he has to content himself with writing horoscopes for the local rag.’

‘
Really? He told me he was interested in it, but I never made the connection. I even read my horoscope last time I was here, but I didn’t recognise him from the photograph.’

‘
I’m not surprised: it was taken years ago. How was the forecast?’

She laughed.
‘Way out.’

‘
That figures. But the serious stuff is something different, or so I’m led to believe. Based on the time and place of birth, the position of the planets, and so on. And that’s what poor old Gordon would give his eyeteeth to get into.’

‘
He could make a start with mine. I could use a bit of guidance at the moment.’

‘
Then ask him. You could be the first of an illustrious line of clients.’

‘
I might just do that.’ She finished her brandy. ‘Thanks for that; you were right, I did need it. Now, if you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go upstairs. It’s been a long day, and I want to be fresh for the morning.’

He stood with her.
‘Of course. Sleep well.’

*

It was as she was on the point of sleep that a snippet of conversation came back to her, which, subconsciously, might be why she’d not mentioned witnessing Molly’s headlong departure.

Well
,
dammit
,
I
thought
she’d
gone
.
God
knows
how
much
she
heard
.

Helen shivered
, pulled the bedclothes over her head and determinedly went to sleep.

5

Gordon Cain walked across the courtyard to his study in the mews block. Overhead
, the weak January sun was pushing aside the clouds and spilling a watery light on to the damp ground. He took out his key and let himself in, welcoming the warm blast of air from the central heating.

When they had bought the Seven Stars four years ago
, this building had been virtually derelict, a mouldering store with broken windows, full of discarded furniture and cardboard boxes. Even then, he had seen its possibilities.

The block was divided into three
, originally stables below and coachmen’s quarters above. Nicholas had suggested knocking it into one building, to provide extra accommodation for family visits, but Gordon insisted that the end block nearest the garden should remain separate for his own use. Having never had space nor privacy while working from home, he did not intend to lose this opportunity and Nicholas, with no strong feelings on the matter, had shrugged and allowed him his way.

This downstairs space was a kitchen
, with a hob where quick snacks could be warmed up without having to return to the house. It was furnished with a small fridge, table, chair and sink, and a cupboard for crockery and assorted tinned food.

An open staircase led to the room above
, where almost the entire roof had been replaced by skylights offering a panoramic view of sky. Gordon loved to stand here at night, gazing up at the thousands of lights framed in the windows. Though modern charts meant there was no need actually to study the stars, he felt a great affinity with those other worlds spinning out there, worlds which, for him, no amount of space exploration could make any less mysterious.

His one great desire was to make his name as a serious astrologer
, to have cabinet ministers and minor royalty consulting him before taking decisions. But gaining recognition was a long, slow process, and in the meantime the only outlet he had was turning out horoscopes for the
Evening
News
while earning his living by supplying more earth-bound articles to the glossy
Broadshire
Life
. He supposed there were worse compromises.

Today
, though, he must prepare next month’s batch of horoscopes, which were already overdue. He’d been putting off working on them because the portents were not promising; there was a whole cluster of planets in Capricorn, which could only mean trouble, and it depressed him having repeatedly to warn against negative influences in the daily columns.

Sighing
, he switched on the computer and reached for his books of tables.

*

At Melbray, Helen, happily settled into her first class, was busy making notes. This morning was devoted to silver, and she was gratified to find, as the lecture progressed, how much she remembered from her time at Lamprey’s. Several times, when the speaker invited them to date objects shown on the screen, she had been able to do so, and her fellow students were starting to look at her with respect.

There were about twenty-five in the class
, mostly elderly or middle-aged women, though three married couples were among them and two younger women, who sat together on the far end of a row. There were also a couple of unattached men, one quiet and grey-haired, the other with overlong hair, flamboyantly dressed and obviously of some importance in his own eyes. He had not taken kindly to Helen’s accurate dating, and she resolved to hold back for a while and not antagonise him further.

During the coffee-break
, she heard him introduce himself to the lecturer, a woman from a local auction house, as Valentine Perry. From the way he announced his name, she gathered it should have been familiar, but it meant nothing to her.

At the end of the class
, Helen turned to the pleasant-faced woman beside her. ‘Do you know who that gentleman in the second row is?’ she asked quietly. ‘I feel I should know him.’

‘
That’s Valentine Perry,’ the woman replied, which much Helen had already gleaned.

‘
Should I know the name?’ she prompted.

‘
Not if you don’t live locally; he writes articles on antiques in
Broadshire
Life
.
’

‘
Then shouldn’t he be giving lectures rather than attending them?’

‘
I suppose he’s covering the course for the magazine.’ They were now filing through the hall in search of the promised buffet lunch. ‘My name’s Rose Chalmers,’ the woman added.

‘
Helen Campbell.’

‘
How do you do? I must say, you have quite a sound knowledge of silver yourself.’

Helen explained about her pre-marriage work at
Lamprey’s and Miss Chalmers was impressed. ‘And you’re hoping to take it up again? I envy you.’

Valentine Perry was already seated at one of the tables
, and as Helen passed he treated her to a considering stare. She met his eyes with bland inquiry and after a moment his own dropped to his plate.

He regarded her as a rival
, Helen thought, and was secretly flattered. Perhaps her knowledge wasn’t as out of date as she’d supposed.

*

Kate said abruptly, ‘What do you think of Helen Campbell?’

Stella looked up in surprise.
‘I haven’t really thought anything. Why?’

‘
Didn’t it strike you as odd that she’s come back?’

‘
Not at all. She’s attending the course at Melbray.’

‘
I know that,’ Kate said impatiently. ‘But it could just be a cover.’

‘
A cover?’ Stella echoed blankly. ‘For what?’

‘
She gives the impression of snooping, that’s all. The way she asked about Molly, for instance. Did you mention her name in front of her?’

‘
Not that I remember.’

‘
I’m sure I didn’t, so how did she know it?’

‘
She must have overheard it, as she said.’

‘
Also, she seemed upset on hearing she was dead; almost as if she’d known her.’

‘
Well, the accident did happen while she was here.’ Stella forced a laugh. ‘Don’t start imagining things, Kate!’

But her sister was not to be deflected.
‘Perhaps the police aren’t convinced it
was
an accident.’

Stella stared at her for a moment
, then picked up her knife and fork. ‘I don’t know where you got that idea. We answered all their questions and they seemed quite satisfied.’

‘
Only because they didn’t ask the right ones.’

‘
Kate!’

‘
Such as why Molly was so upset she went running off without even stopping for her bike. If she had done, she mightn’t have been knocked down.’

Stella said in a low voice
, ‘Please, Kate, don’t bring all that up again.’

‘
Let’s just hope no one else does,’ Kate returned drily.

*

During the tea-break, Helen spied a copy of
Broadshire
Life
lying on a table and picked it up. She started flicking through its glossy pages, and an amused voice behind her said, ‘Page twenty-six.’

She turned. Valentine Perry was looming over her with a condescending smile.
‘I beg your pardon?’

‘
Page twenty-six. My article. I imagine that’s what you’re looking for?’

‘
As it happens, no,’ Helen said shortly.

‘
Oh come, you needn’t be coy. I assure you, I’m flattered!’

‘
Without reason, I’m afraid. I was looking for a piece by someone I know.’

‘
And who would that be?’ Patently he didn’t believe her.

‘
Gordon Cain,’ she said crisply, pleased to see his self-satisfied smile fade.

‘
Then I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t read his copy.’

And he turned and melted into the crowd. Helen continued her search and finally came upon Gordon
’s name above an article on the countryside in winter. But there wasn’t time to read it before she had to return for the second half of the talk on antique jewellery.

As she entered the room
, Valentine Perry studiously avoided looking at her and Helen was aware that she had made, if not an enemy, at least an antagonist. She almost regretted not pandering to the man’s conceit.

*

When she came down for supper that evening, the local paper had been left, as before, on the small table in the hall. Helen picked it up and, now she knew the identity of the forecaster, turned with more interest to the horoscopes.

As before
, ‘Tomorrow’s Birthday’ was apart from the rest and she ran her eye down it, wondering to how many hundreds of people this forecast was supposed to apply. It was necessarily vague, with warnings about signing contracts and advice to concentrate on domestic issues during the year ahead. It finished with the innocuous comment that
a
friend
would
like
to
hear
from
you
.

Which
, Helen seemed to remember, was how the starred forecast had ended the last time she’d read it. She turned to her own reading, decided it had no application whatever, and dropped the paper back on the table.

*

Over supper, Stella inquired how her day had gone.

‘
I’ve enjoyed it,’ Helen replied. ‘Both the lectures were interesting and I was pleased to find I remember more about antiques than I realised.’ She paused and glanced at Gordon, who, paying no attention to the conversation, was staring down at his plate. ‘I believe you know someone in my class,’ she said.

He didn
’t look up and Stella leant forward to touch his arm. ‘Darling, Helen’s speaking to you.’

He looked at her blankly.
‘I’m sorry?’

‘
There’s someone in my class whom I think you know,’ Helen repeated. ‘Valentine Perry? He writes for
Broadshire
Life
.
’

‘
Lord, have you been saddled with him? You want to watch your step, he can be spiteful.’

‘
I’ve already blotted my copybook. He caught me flicking through the magazine and assumed I was looking for his article when I was actually looking for yours.’

‘
You didn’t enlighten him, I hope?’

She nodded ruefully and Gordon shook his head in mock despair.
‘Then watch your back. He’ll take it as a personal slight.’

Kate said impatiently
, ‘I can’t be doing with people who take offence. Life’s too short to have to stop and think before you say anything.’

‘
Although, my love, it sometimes makes for a more harmonious existence,’ Nicholas observed.

Helen turned back to Gordon.
‘Michael told me you’re Stargazer in the local paper.’

Stella said quickly
, ‘It’s only a stopgap, till he can get started as a serious astrologer. He has a real gift — people have already approached him privately.’

‘
But surely you can’t be specific when doing mass forecasts? You must have to rely sometimes on time-honoured phrases like “Someone is waiting to hear from you.”’

Across the table Kate drew in her breath sharply
, and Helen found to her consternation that everyone was staring at her.

She said hastily
, ‘I’m not trying to decry it; it must be extremely difficult when you’re dealing with large numbers. I only meant that phrases like that would probably apply to everyone.’

Stella
, suddenly pale, again came to her husband’s defence. ‘Gordon’s very conscientious, even with newspaper horoscopes. He spends hours up in his study, consulting the charts and checking that everything’s accurate.’

‘
Oh come on, Stella,’ Michael Saxton protested. ‘With the greatest respect, Helen’s right; everyone takes those things with a pinch of salt. How could it be otherwise, when one twelfth of the world’s population is told to expect a letter on a certain day? The global postal service would sink under the strain!’

Stella smiled uncertainly and Helen flashed him a grateful glance. If she
’d realised this was such a touchy subject she’d never have raised it. So much for Kate’s disdain of people who took offence!

‘
No one claims it’s an exact science,’ Gordon said defensively. ‘There are always shifting influences which can alter aspects. All we try to do is show tendencies, interpretations.’

There was a brief silence. Then Terry Pike made some comment on an entirely different subject and the suddenly fraught atmosphere dissolved; though Helen was
disconcerted, on glancing across the table, to find Kate’s dark eyes still consideringly on her. It appeared she had inadvertently blotted her copybook a second time.