The Talisman (9 page)

Edward looked in the direction Charlie was waving, and he could see a figure in a picture hat, cutting roses. She carried a large basket on one arm and wore a man’s gardening glove on the other hand. She waved frantically and put the basket down, running towards the car.

The car skidded to a halt and Charlie jumped out, not bothering to open the door, and ran to her. She was shouting and waving as she ran, and Charlie caught her up in his arms and twirled her around, kissing her. Edward had still not seen her face beneath the hat, she was kissing Charlie and holding him at arm’s length, cooing that he looked just wonderful. Edward detected the same plummy accent, just like Charlie’s. He remained sitting self-consciously in the car as Charlie pulled his mother by the hand towards him. ‘Eddie, this is Ma; Ma, Eddie’s staying for the vacation, his family was bombed out so he had nowhere to go.’

The lie came out without Charlie batting an eyelid, and Edward tried to get out of the car and shake hands at the same time.

Lady Primrose Collins was furious with Charlie for not warning her or asking her permission to bring Edward, but Edward couldn’t detect anything but a rather cool welcome. She took off her hat and removed the gardening glove. ‘How do you do, please come into the house, Humphrey will see to your luggage.’ She linked hands with her son and walked up the big, crumbling steps into the castle. Edward hung back slightly, then followed them. He had been taken aback slightly at Lady Primrose’s age, thinking at first that she was very young. It was the way she moved, but close up he could see that she must be in her fifties. Charlie had inherited her pale blue eyes and snub nose. Even though she was gardening she was perfectly made up.

Edward’s initial reaction was disconcerting; a shadow seemed to pass over his heart and he felt his entire body shake in a strong sensation of déjà vu. Yet he knew he had never met Lady Primrose before.

Perhaps not, but his father had known Lady Primrose Collins. And his mother, Evelyne, knew this pretty woman very well. If Lady Primrose had looked closely at Edward she, too, would have felt the powerful hand begin to manipulate from the grave. Edward strongly resembled his father, although he was not as tall, or as wild. His dark hair was cut fashionably short, but the young man’s face was almost a mirror image of the gypsy fighter’s.

Lady Primrose did not feel the past catching up with her, not yet. She simply welcomed into her home a young friend of her son’s, that was all.

The huge, baronial hall with its stone walls and massive, open fireplace was, as Charlie had said, cold, even though the sun was shining outside. There were suits of armour, shields and animal skins everywhere, very masculine, and the stone floor echoed their footsteps. Humphrey, in his butler’s uniform, walked past them to collect their luggage, while Charlie chattered away to his mother, telling her about the journey down and how well he had been doing.

‘Eddie, is it? Would you like to go into the drawing room, I will have to see about getting a room ready for you . . . Charlie, come up and say hello to Daddy.’

Edward stood, not sure which door led into the drawing room, and watched the pair walk upstairs. The sun shone on the carpeted steps and he could see threadbare patches. Humphrey returned with Charlie’s big trunk, staggering slightly, but he frowned when Edward went to give him a hand, preferring to stagger on alone. ‘The drawing room, sir, is to your right. Tea will be served at four-fifteen.’

Edward pushed open the thick oak door and walked into the sunny room, with its oriental rugs covering most of the wooden floorboards, large, squashy, flower-printed sofas, and cushions thrown all over the floor and heaped up by the inglenook fireplace. The room was cluttered and friendly. There was a polished table filled with books and a large bowl of fresh roses, their perfume filling the air.

Edward wandered around the room, smelling the roses and picking up a few of the books. From the window he could see Humphrey carrying in more of Charlie’s bags. He opened the window and looked out across the tangled garden.

Hearing someone approaching, he closed the window and walked back to the fireplace. Charlie breezed in and clapped his hands, said he was gasping for a cup of tea, but would Edward like to be shown round before tea was brought in?

They wandered through the old, ruined areas, Charlie pointing out the rotten floors and warning Edward to be careful. He then led him out to the back of the castle.

There was an enormous swimming pool, Grecian in style, and it looked as if it had been added by someone without much artistic sense. It was an eyesore, completely out of keeping with the castle. Charlie whistled, his hands stuck in his pockets. Suddenly he burst into giggles.

‘Clarence was such a hoot, he had some crammer staying during one vacation who was terribly shortsighted. Clarence brought him out here, keeping him talking, telling him to go up on the diving board and jump straight in. Chap was actually on the board, teetering right on the edge, when he looked down.’ Charlie bent over, laughing until the tears came into his eyes. ‘Pool was absolutely covered in millions of wasps, wasp nest had been built close by, millions of them all floating on the surface . . . Oh God, it was funny seeing that chap doing a Charlie Chaplin on the end of the board.’

Edward didn’t think it funny at all, and he asked Charlie if the fellow had fallen in.

‘Course he did, stung all over. Do you swim? Be jolly nice when the weather warms up. It needs cleaning, but it’s a jolly good length . . . oh, don’t look so squeamish, no wasps now, old fellah! Come on, let’s go in for a cuppa, I’m parched, what about you, Eddie?’

As Charlie was about to walk back indoors, Edward told him quietly that he preferred to be called ‘Edward’, not ‘Eddie’. Charlie shrugged and said if that was what he wanted then so be it; he was edgy again, Edward could feel it, and his uneasiness manifested itself when they returned to the drawing room. ‘Why are there four cups laid out, who else is coming?’

Lady Primrose entered with a plate of buttered scones, which she placed on a large warmer. ‘Your father is joining us, have you mentioned him to your friend?’

Charlie muttered that he had, and sat down. Without offering anything to Edward he picked up a sandwich.

‘Good heavens, I hadn’t realized how tall you were, Eddie . . . please help yourself.’

Charlie laughed and told his mother that his friend didn’t like to be called Eddie. She seemed flustered, then apologized. Tea was poured and handed round, Charlie devouring everything with such speed that Lady Primrose gave him a cold stare.

The door opened and David Collins appeared, wearing a velvet smoking jacket and using a silver-topped cane. Edward was taken aback by his handsome features, Charlie paled beside him. He looked delicate, his face had a fine paleness, and very few wrinkles creased his skin. Charlie sprang up. ‘Hello, Pa, want you to meet a friend of mine, Edward Stubbs, Edward, this is my father, Captain Collins.’

Captain Collins paid no attention whatsoever, as if he had either not heard Charlie or didn’t wish to meet his friend. Charlie gave Edward a wink, and they both watched as David made an elaborate, slow manoeuvre around the winged fireside chair. He sat down, placed his feet very carefully together, and seemed to be fascinated by the gold monogram on his velvet slippers.

Lady Primrose was fussing with the tea tray. ‘Would you like tea, David? Darling, tea? It’s just brewed, tea?’

David gave her a vacant stare, then a puzzled frown. ‘I haven’t had tea, have I?’

Charlie gave a short, quiet giggle and turned his back.

‘No, you haven’t had tea yet, I’m asking you if you want a cup?’

‘Well, if I haven’t had tea, then yes, please, I would, thank you, darling.’ He took out a silk handkerchief and laid it on his knee in preparation for his plate, and his teacup was put on a small table next to his armchair. He ate his cake with his delicate hands, carefully picked up every crumb and popped it into his mouth.

Charlie winked at Edward, who was trying hard not to stare at the older man. He actually seemed to be getting older by the minute, every gesture was ageing him. He was as fussy as an old maid. As Lady Primrose rang a bell beside the fireplace, David leaned forward and goosed her. She jumped, and he sat back as though he hadn’t moved. Charlie tittered and Lady Primrose gave him an arch look, but Edward could see she was as amused as Charlie.

Humphrey came in to clear the tea things, and Lady Primrose fetched a plaid rug from the windowseat and carried it across to David. She unfolded it and gently wrapped it around his knees. As she bent forward, David’s eyes gleamed. ‘Had a flash of your titties then!’

Charlie had to put his hand over his mouth. Primrose turned and made exactly the same gesture, cupping her hands over her lips. The pair of them were like naughty schoolchildren, their giggles getting completely out of hand. They ran out of the room.

Without batting an eyelid at the extraordinary behaviour of the lady of the house, Humphrey bowed formally to David and backed out of the room with the tea tray, inviting Edward to follow him and be shown to his room. Charlie and Lady Primrose were laughing in the hall, Charlie mimicking his father’s voice. ‘Ohhh, I saw your titties . . .’

Edward’s room was some kind of nursery, with a heap of broken toys thrown into one corner, and a rocking horse surrounded by tin soldiers in worn boxes. A bookcase was filled with children’s fairy stories, and a large cardboard box contained school exercise books. Also, the bed was about six inches too short for Edward.

He unpacked and hung his clothes in the blue-painted wardrobe with the transfers stuck all over it, and then, having nothing further to do, he picked up one of the exercise books which had the name ‘Clarence Collins’ scrawled across it. The name was everywhere he looked, scratched into the headboard of the bed, on the walls . . . it made Edward feel ill at ease, as if a ghost inhabited the room. The strange feeling persisted, making the small hairs at the back of his neck prickle, and he picked up a small tin soldier, holding it in the palm of his hand as though to conjure up a picture of the dead boy.

Clarence had been a tiny child when Edward’s mother had first seen him. She had paid a call on Captain David Collins, Lady Primrose’s husband. These people had all been linked to his father’s past, a past Edward knew nothing about. The curse now touched Edward; the shadow had already entered his heart.

Captain David Collins had been the leading light of the society set in Cardiff, people far removed from the lives of a poor young village girl and a gypsy fighter. Freedom Stubbs was a booth boxer, travelling with his people from fairground to fairground. And the lives of all three had crossed when David had taken Evelyne to see Freedom fight. It was a night all of them would remember; a young gypsy girl had been raped and beaten by four young miners. Over a period of three years all four had been found brutally murdered; their hands tied behind their backs, their throats slit from right to left, and on each boy’s forehead a curse was written in his own blood. The murders became known as the ‘gypsy revenge killings’, and Freedom Stubbs had been charged with all four murders.

Edward replaced the tin soldier. He smoothed the back of his neck with his palm, and when he looked at it he could still see the imprint from the toy, like a red stain. The strange mark disappeared as he stared, and he jumped, startled, as Charlie burst in and bellowed that the bathroom on this floor was dodgy. Edward could use his on the floor below. ‘Want a drive around the country before dinner? A few folks coming over, just old family friends, no doubt Father will keep them amused with his repartee, quite a jolly fellow, isn’t he, what?’

Edward was nonplussed, he didn’t know how to take Charlie’s jokes about his father, and he simply smiled. He asked tentatively if they would be dressing for dinner. Charlie mimicked Edward’s cockney accent, and with a grin said that of course they would be ‘dressin’ fer dinnah’. He saw Edward’s mouth tighten and knew he shouldn’t poke fun at him, but sometimes he was such a big oaf.

‘I’m not hungry, you go for a drive, I’ll just stay here, have a lie-down.’

Charlie shrugged and went out whistling. Edward could hear him banging down the corridor, then he heard the footsteps coming back. Charlie burst in again, walked over to the wardrobe and swung the door open, then slammed it shut and turned to Edward. ‘You liar, you just haven’t got your kit with you, won’t get out of it that way, old man. I’ll have a word with Ma, get you kitted out.’

Lady Primrose tapped on the door and entered. She was so like Charlie that Edward found it unnerving. She crooked her finger at Edward to follow her. They walked along the corridor and down to the next landing, and she opened a door, putting her finger to her lips for Edward to keep silent. She tiptoed into the room and closed the door after Edward. ‘This was Clarence’s room, I don’t want David to hear us in here, he may get confused and think it’s ghosts. Come along, follow me, but quietly does it.’

They tiptoed over to the adjoining dressing room, where there were rows of wardrobe doors, each mirrored, and she opened each one, searching, then in the end she turned to Edward. ‘He was a little shorter than you, but I’m sure everything will fit, much too big for Charlie. Please just take what you need, but do it quietly.’

She walked back into the bedroom and left Edward gazing into the immaculate wardrobe. There were rows of suits, racks of shirts, ties, shoes . . . he had never seen so many clothes outside a shop in his life. He didn’t know where to begin, and he went back to the bedroom. She was still there, standing with her back to him by the side of the bed, holding a photograph in her hand. She was crying softly. ‘I can’t take these things, really, it’s ever so kind of you.’

She put the photograph down and turned to him, her face, even with the tears on it, set and hard. She kept her voice low, but it was fierce. ‘I am sure it is “ever so kind”, but if you don’t they’ll only be eaten by moths, please just take whatever, take them and leave the room.’

She went out, and Edward returned to the closet. He began to sort through the clothes, feeling each piece of fabric, his heart thudding with excitement. He could get his whole year’s wardrobe out of this. Never mind just a dinner jacket, there were coats and cord trousers, the very ones he’d been saving for. He carried the things back up the stairs to the nursery, laid them on the bed and then carefully dressed, inspecting each item with care. The sleeves were slightly short, as were the trousers, but if he pulled the waist down on to his hips they looked perfect. He had sweaters and shirts, and after a while he made another trip, wondering if he and Clarence had had the same shoe size.