Underbelly (77 page)

Grey said nothing about what he had heard. Once he would have been consumed with jealousy at the thought of Laura sleeping with another man. He had moved on since then, Germaine taking Laura’s place in his heart, and he found it didn’t bother him at all, providing that neither Laura nor Conrad got hurt, Grey viewing both of them as more caring than they would have others believe.

Grey, Conrad, Stuart and a French stranger carried the coffin into the large church, where the turnout was decent, mostly girls around Germaine’s age and their parents, probably the school friends she talked of, several of whom were crying while he sat looking to the world like a cold and callous bastard he imagined. Tears either flowed or they didn’t, and he wasn’t going to force them for appearance’s sake at his wife’s funeral. Most of the service was in French, with a few sentences in English thrown in for his benefit before she was lowered into the ground. There was no space next to her family, the graveyard very full, though Grey was glad that there was a space for her several rows from them, feeling that it was good enough that she was buried in the same graveyard. He regretted that her uncle wasn’t there and was surprised that Paulette Lefevre, who Laura had invited, wasn’t there, though if she had been he had no idea what he would have said to her.

Grey didn’t stay by the grave for long, mainly because there didn’t seem to be much point. It was over; it was over as soon as he saw that she was dead. He’d returned her to her family and could do nothing else for her. He started talking to the spirits again, though his manner was different as he vowed to himself to forever ditch the platitudes he spouted with alarming frequency, talking to them a lot slower, choosing every word carefully. He would still refrain from saying hurtful things to the spirits or from being brutally honest, his intention to feel more empathy rather than just detached sympathy. He would consider their positions more and try to imagine how he would feel and would never insult them by pretending to understand how they felt if he didn’t. The days of giving them lip service as he pretended to know how their pain felt just to move them along quicker were over, and the feedback he received from the first spirits proved to him that he was right to change. Viewing each tragedy as though it was his own changed everything and stopped the assembly line approach, one positive outcome from his loss.

“
Has he talked to you about what he’s thinking of doing?” Conrad asked Stuart as they sat around Laura’s dining table, Laura present also, whilst Grey slept. Four days had passed since the funeral and Grey seemed to have no plans, and while Conrad and Laura didn’t want to rush him, they had other things that required their attention and which would take them away from Maramont.

“
He might be staying on. He hasn’t made his mind up yet,” Stuart said. “If you have to go back tell him. He won’t mind.”

“
If he does stay, keep a close eye on him, Stuart,” Laura said. She knew he would anyway and said it just to make herself feel better about leaving him. Stuart nodded and said that he would. She turned to Conrad and said, “You’ll have to leave him some money if he does stay.”

“
I didn’t bring that much with me. I’m haemorrhaging money putting up Englishwomen for free at the hotel,” he joked. “I’ll send him some when we get back.”

“
Have I asked you for any money for your lodgings?” she replied sharply, making Stuart feel a little uncomfortable, unaware that they were playing.

“
Did I ask you to pay for the crossing? Planes aren’t cheap to run.”

“
The filthy rich are always stingy with money,” she said contemptuously, the playful argument turning serious and bad-tempered, with Conrad choosing to stay at the Cremont farm that evening rather than in Laura’s bed again, which didn’t bother her. With him out of the way it gave her more of a chance to talk to Grey properly when he woke up, and she invited him into her study as she reminisced about his first stay with her when she had acted as his teacher. She was straight with him, telling him that she would have to leave soon, possibly to seek out Chesmu again, an idea that provoked a reaction in him.

“
I have to question the wisdom of that. He didn’t make you welcome last time,” Grey said, concerned for her.

“
I’ll tell him that I’ve talked to Octavius since then – that will get his attention. He can never come back, but I’ll make out otherwise, and tell Chesmu that his family are at risk, which might make him consider an alliance and make him reveal some useful information,” Laura said, feeling that her manipulative wiles could make Chesmu work with her.

“
He’s a dangerous man to play games with,” Grey said. While he had never met him, he had heard Laura’s account and knew that he was deadly enough to kill Octavius.

“
I didn’t want to say this before because you had enough to contend with. Did you see the woman with the black hat and glasses at the funeral?”

“
About 50?” Grey said, thinking he knew whom she meant.

“
Yes. She wasn’t a mourner; she was spying on me. I need the church off my back, and before I tell them to back off I need enough power to be able to stand up to them. There will be no bloodshed, I promise.”

“
Be careful.”

“
Of course. What about you? Are you going to come back with me and the walking trust fund?”

“
I will eventually go back to New York, but I’m not ready yet. I was thinking about staying here for a while, only I know deep down it’s not for me. If it’s all right with you I would like to see Ravensbeck again.”

“
That can be easily arranged. You can stay at my house for as long as you want, you know that.”

“
I know I should stay and help Stuart but there’s something about the Cremont house that creeps me out.”

“
He’s very capable, don’t worry about him. If anyone asks you anything about me, you haven’t seen me since you left.”

“
Okay. I won’t be socialising much anyway.”

Grey told Conrad of his plans the next day, forcing Conrad to reluctantly admit that he wasn’t sure he could drop him off in Scotland and have enough fuel left to comfortably return to Vermont. Conrad felt that taking off again from the limited space he had across the Cremonts fields would be hard enough, and while he hated letting his friend down, for once he had to be pragmatic. If there were landing strips he could use it would be different, but he assumed that he would have the same problems landing and taking off at Ravensbeck.

Grey could see that Conrad felt bad and he assured him that he had no reason to and thanked him for all that he had done for him, happy to find his own way back to Ravensbeck and refusing his offer of money.

“
You’re still going to need money. It might not be as expensive as the Big Apple but food costs money still,” Conrad said.

“
I’ll get by. If you could just keep my room for me, because I will be back sometime later in the year, then that would be great. You two should get going.”

“
If the plane doesn’t crash into the Atlantic because me and her have throttled each other, then I’ll see you soon, I hope. Look after yourself, right?” Conrad said patting him on the back with force that would have made him wince without Adelaide Alieu’s acts of healing, which, likely to her eternal regret, had benefited him greatly.

“
You too, Conrad,” Grey said, patting him back before he went back to Laura’s farmhouse to tell her that Conrad was waiting for her and ready to go.

“
He does know he’s dropping you off, doesn’t he?”

“
He isn’t, there’s not enough fuel for that.”

“
Then he can get some more. It’s not exactly going out of the way.”

“
I think it uses up more when it takes off. That could be wrong, but it doesn’t matter. Thanks to him I’ve got to bury Germaine where she would have wanted and I’ve a lot to be grateful to him for. For me, please don’t give him a hard time.”

Laura sighed, loath to promise that she wouldn’t and she said, “If he keeps a civil tongue I’ll endeavour to do the same. I know he’s your friend so I’m not going to do a Hartmann on him whatever he says, it’ll stay verbal.”

“
It’s a long flight if you’re arguing.”

“
I think it’ll make it go quicker, but I’ll make an effort. If you want to employ Margaret as a housekeeper you know where I keep my money.”

“
If I do spend any of your money you’ll be repaid.”

“
I feel uncomfortable leaving you like this.”

“
I’m not falling apart, don’t worry. You’ve got a plane to catch and a pilot who isn’t known for his patience.”

Laura hugged him and ran across her field with her case, turning around and shouting at him, “Your life’s not over, James. Don’t let this beat you.” He said nothing, merely waving at her as she walked away. Since Germaine’s death Laura had found him almost impossible to read, the open book closing itself off, even to himself it seemed. Conrad taunted her when she strutted to the plane, hostilities breaking out instantly, and ceasing only when they started talking about Grey, after which they both went back to light-hearted banter, neither of them offering apologies, forgetting about the harsh words and flirting afresh. Laura managed to persuade him to land in New York, Conrad aware of an airstrip he could use, and he followed her off the plane for the kiss she promised him.

“
Try not to annoy any sociopathic mediums or castrating lamiae and I might turn up at one of your palatial houses for an encore,” she said before passionately kissing him, ruffling his hair as he squeezed her rump.

“
I might already have company unless you tell me when you’re coming. I don’t believe in sleeping alone.”

“
You must have forged some very close friendships in the army.”

“
I did, and in the air force we didn’t sleep in the field so it was easy to get girls back to my quarters.”

“
You managed to get your lovers into your barracks?”

“
I never stayed at barracks. I was there to fight the war, not live like a rat,” he said arrogantly. “Come when you want, you’ll take precedence over whatever skirt’s in my bed.”

“
If you have another lover in your bed we’ll utilise her.”

“
How did you guess my favourite…? Come soon, right?” he said keenly, stroking her body.

“
Perhaps,” she said casually as she strolled away from him.

Ravensbeck without Germaine, Laura or even Stuart was not the idyllic retreat it had once seemed, instead appearing to be a rather dull backwater. It was, however, a good place for solitude, which he craved, largely left alone by the locals. Reverend Stuart was one of the few visitors to call at the manor house and Grey did not go out of his way to make him feel welcome. Once he would have, before he learnt from Laura that he was involved in some capacity with the Catholic priests who hunted her. After learning this he settled for making polite, albeit cold, conversation. Reverend Stuart tried his best to fish for information, still in irregular written contact with Father Rossi, asking Grey if he knew when Laura would return as he sipped his tea.

“
I have no idea, Reverend. Has your brother returned yet?” Grey said, changing the subject.

“
No. He’s going to do something stupid if they don’t let him come home soon.”

“
I think that’s fair enough. He signed on to fight the war, not protect British colonies in peacetime.”

“
I have every sympathy with Colin’s situation, however, he doesn’t help his own position with his attitude.”

Grey shrugged and said, “I don’t know about that. It seems unfair to me.”

“
Is India the sort of place Laura would visit, do you think?” the Reverend asked, to Grey’s irritation. He had liked the Reverend once, his opinion of him diminishing the more he probed clumsily.

“
Maybe,” Grey said.

“
Forgive my presumptuousness, but it has been noticed that you’ve returned alone. I don’t like to intrude, but as you and Germaine were the first couple I joined in wedlock I am a little worried about the two of you. Is everything all right?”