Stage Fright (15 page)

The idea was ludicrous. I just could not see her going down the stairs at Journey's End and walking out of the house with no idea how long she was leaving Agnes to cry unheard, with no one to feed her, to comfort her, or to change her nappy. Every time I tried to picture this I hit a blank in my imagination. I tried not to think of it, and found I was thinking instead of the cloak that I'd found in the costume store. If Stan and I were right, it meant that the figure in the dress-circle had not been some stranger who had wandered in off the street. It was someone in the theatre, someone I knew; they had been playing a silly and cruel joke. It couldn't be anything more than that, could it? I felt again the weight of the cloak and saw its inky blackness, so deep and rich that it had been like clasping a piece of the night.

All of a sudden the evening air was chilly. I realized that Grace had stopped crying. I got up and went into the house. The moment Grace saw me she began to howl again. I'd only been away ten minutes, but I felt calmer now. I reached down into the cot for her. When I was little, I thought that if you concentrated hard on someone, perhaps they would feel the pressure of your thoughts, like a hand on their shoulder, however far away they were. A small part of me must still think that: when the telephone rang, the first thought that shot through my head was, Melissa!

I left Grace in the cot and went into the kitchen. I picked up the receiver.

‘Hello?'

‘Cassandra?' It was Kevin.

I'd been holding my breath. I let it out in a sigh.

‘Oh, hi. Is there any news?'

‘No, there's nothing. Cass, I'm really worried. It's Agnes. I think she's ill.' I could hear the strain in his voice.

‘Oh God, what's the matter?'

‘She's really wailing. I've never heard her like this before. It's been going on for an hour or more.'

‘OK, OK, don't panic. Do you think she's in pain?' Grace was bellowing in earnest now and I didn't hear what he said next. ‘Sorry, Grace is making such a racket, I didn't catch that. You'll have to speak up.'

‘I can't tell if she's in pain or not!'

‘It might be colic or something.' I was almost shouting.

‘Shall I call the doctor?'

‘This is impossible. I can't hear myself think. Hang on a sec.'

I closed the kitchen door. The decibel level dropped a little. I took a deep breath and put the phone back to my ear.

‘Cass, Cass, are you there?' Kevin was saying.

‘Yes, yes, I am. Does she feel hot?'

‘Hot? I don't think so,' he said vaguely.

I sighed. We were getting nowhere fast. ‘Look, it's probably not serious. Do you want to bring her over? We can try and sort her out together.'

‘She yells even louder when I pick her up. I wonder – I know it's a lot to ask…'

‘I'll come over.'

‘Cass, you're an angel.'

‘It's OK. Actually, I've been having trouble getting Grace off. A ride in the car might do it.'

After he'd rung off, I stood rubbing my forehead with the heel of my hand. It occurred to me that perhaps Grace was crying
because
she wanted a ride in the car. Perhaps I'd end up taking her out every night. Oh Lord. What should I take with me to Kevin's? Baby thermometer, yes, and what else? The phone rang. I snatched it up, expecting it to be Kevin again.

‘Yes?'

‘Cass?' It was Stephen.

‘I'm so glad to hear your voice.'

‘Same here.'

‘Grace is playing me up,' I said. ‘She just won't go to sleep, I don't know, maybe she's teething. Listen, can you hear her bellowing?'

‘You poor thing. You sound absolutely shattered. I'm sorry I'm not there to help. Can I say hello to her?'

‘Hang on.' I went and lifted Grace out of her cot. I hitched her high up on my hip so that she could share the receiver with me.

‘Here's Daddy,' I told her. I didn't think she'd recognize his voice, distorted by the phone line, but the tears vanished as if by magic and she started to giggle. Maybe she'd been missing him, too, or maybe she just liked the telephone. When someone's only six months old, it's hard to tell.

‘What's the news about Melissa?' Stephen asked, when I'd got him to myself again.

‘No news.' I told him about the events of the day. ‘And now there seems to he something wrong with Agnes. I'm about to go over.'

‘What, now? It must be, what is it, getting on for ten? Are you sure that's a good idea? Cass, you're wearing yourself out.'

‘Well, for tonight, at least, I can't leave the poor bloke to struggle on his own.'

‘If Melissa doesn't turn up soon, Kevin will just have to make proper arrangements for Agnes to be looked after.'

‘You don't sound very sympathetic.'

‘I wouldn't be all that surprised if it turned out that Melissa had had enough of Kevin. I've never really taken to him. It's strange her leaving Agnes, though. That's the bit I can't understand.'

‘You don't like him? You've never said.'

‘Well, Melissa's your friend and anyway it wasn't anything I could put my finger on. The guy's always pleasant enough. Just one of those things. “I do not like thee, Doctor Fell, The reason why I cannot tell, But this I know and know full well, I do not like thee, Doctor Fell.”'

‘Masculine intuition?'

‘Something like that.'

‘So how are you getting on?'

‘Oh, it's great, just terrific. I'm getting on like a house on fire with Bob. In fact…'

He hesitated.

‘What is it?'

‘Oh, well…'

‘Stephen! I know there's something! Out with it!'

‘Oh, all right, but we can't really discuss it over the phone. We'll have to talk about it when I get back. The thing is: I've been offered a job.'

‘A job!'

‘It's the clients out here. I think that's part of the reason they got me over.'

‘Oh, what! You don't need a job! You've got your own firm!'

‘Look, I'm not saying I want to take it, but it's such a good offer, we have to at least consider it. Like I said, we can talk about it when I get back.'

‘And what about me and my job! I don't want to move to Los Angeles!'

‘Look, I'll have to go. I'm at work. I'll ring you again tomorrow, OK?'

*   *   *

Low-lying mist drifted across the fields. The land between the Old Granary and Journey's End could almost have been covered with water just as it had been for centuries before the fens were drained. The moon was higher now. It seemed strange that it could be so light and yet this was a world drained of colours. I drove to the cottage across a landscape of black and grey and silver, of silhouettes and shadows.

Kevin was standing framed in the doorway. He came hurrying out across the gravel and opened my car door.

‘You've been a long time,' were his first words.

‘Stephen rang,' I said shortly.

‘Sorry: didn't mean to sound – it's just that I'm worried.'

‘Of course you are,' I said, relenting. It wasn't his fault that I was in a filthy mood.

I got out of the car and opened the back door. The drive had done the trick. Grace was fast asleep. I unbuckled her and followed Kevin into the house. Something was not as I expected it to be. I looked round. Everything looked much as usual. Kevin must have tidied up. Then I realized what was missing.

‘I don't hear Agnes crying,' I said.

Kevin looked surprised. ‘You're right. That's funny. She was still at it when you drove up.'

‘Let's go up and have a look at her. I'll leave Grace down here.'

I put her on the sofa and Kevin helped me to fence her in with cushions. I took my bag up with me in case I needed the thermometer. In Agnes's room the night-light cast a dim glow. Agnes was lying on her side with her thumb by her cheek as if it had been in her mouth and had fallen away when she fell asleep. I bent down into the cot and put a finger on her cheek. She didn't seem to have a temperature and her breath was coming from her lips in even little puffs.

‘She seems fine,' I said. ‘It's hard to believe that there's anything wrong with her.'

‘And yet she was yelling her head off only a few minutes ago.'

‘Hard to believe,' I repeated, shaking my head. And no sooner were the words out of my mouth than I thought, perhaps it's hard to believe
because it isn't true.
This baby had surely been peacefully asleep for more than a few minutes. I looked at Kevin. He was standing at the bedroom door. Light was coming in from the landing, throwing his face into relief. The dark eyes looked darker than ever. His face was impassive, carefully blank, it suddenly seemed to me. The fens were stretching out in darkness all around us. There was no one else for miles. And who knew I was here? Stephen – yes, but Stephen was thousands of miles away, damn him. But if this had been a ruse to get me over here, then why…? Kevin took a step towards me. At that moment my mobile phone rang. Kevin paused. I pulled the phone out of my bag and answered it.

‘Cass?'

‘Stephen!' I said.

‘Look, I was a bit abrupt earlier. Of course, there's no question of us moving if you don't want to—'

‘No, no, you're right. We ought to talk about it at least. No harm in seeing what's on the table.' My eyes met Kevin's.

He turned away and switched on the main light.

‘That's right,' Stephen said. ‘Are you at the cottage?'

‘Yes, yes, I am, I'm with Kevin now.'

‘Is Agnes OK?'

‘I think so, yes.'

‘Oh. That's good. D'you think I could have a word with Kevin?'

I handed the phone over. From Kevin's reactions I guessed that Stephen was commiserating with him. Then he frowned. ‘Well, if you think so,' he said. ‘Yes, yes, I'm sure you're right. I'll give you back to her, shall I?'

He handed the phone over.

‘I've told Kevin not to let you overdo it.'

‘Oh, really!' I felt a familiar flash of irritation, but I couldn't be truly angry. I'd been so relieved to hear his voice.

‘Got to go. I'll ring you tomorrow. Love you.'

‘Yeah, good. I mean, me too. 'Bye then.'

Kevin was standing on the landing now, his back turned tactfully towards me. I joined him and we went down the stairs in silence. I was longing now to get away.

Kevin said, ‘Don't come into the theatre tomorrow. Stay at home. Have a rest.'

‘I'm sorry about Stephen. I'll be OK, honestly,' I said, rummaging about in my bag for my car keys.

‘No, Stephen's right. And anyway, it's the technical tomorrow. It's not absolutely essential that you're there.'

‘You're sure? What about Agnes?' The keys weren't in my bag. What on earth had I done with them? I started patting my pockets.

‘I expect I can get Tilly to baby-sit again after the nursery closes,' Kevin said.

‘I don't know what I've done with my car keys.' I looked round the sitting-room to see if I'd put them down somewhere.

‘Have you looked in there?' Kevin pointed to the zipped compartment on the outside of my bag.

‘I don't remember putting them in there but … Oh yes, here they are. These days I'd forget my head if it was loose.'

I collected Grace and Kevin walked me to the door.

‘I'm really sorry I bothered you. I guess I overreacted,' he said, his hand on the latch.

I opened my mouth to reply but I didn't get anything out, because overhead, as abruptly as if someone had pressed a switch, Agnes started to howl.

Kevin winced. ‘Spoke too soon.'

I'd never heard her make such a terrible noise before. It was gut-wrenching.

‘Is that what she was doing before?'

He nodded. As we went up the stairs together, Grace stirred against my shoulder and whimpered, disturbed by the noise. We looked into the cot. Agnes's face was red and creased and already glossy with tears. Her fists were clenched. I handed Grace to Kevin, and bent over into the cot.

‘Shush, shush,' I murmured. I opened one of the little hands and stroked the palm. The fingers closed tightly round mine and the crying stopped. She lay there hiccuping and gazing up at me. I stroked her stomach with my other hand. Her eyes remained fixed on mine.

‘
Is
it colic?' Kevin asked.

‘No. I don't think it is. Grace had it a month or two back. It wasn't like this. They draw their legs up to their chest. Could she be hungry?'

‘I did try her on a bottle but she only had a little bit of it.'

Agnes had started crying again and was lifting her arms imploringly to me.

‘Let's try her again.' I said. ‘Put Grace in the cot. With any luck she'll stay asleep.'

I picked Agnes up and we went down to the kitchen. I saw that Kevin had somehow found time to have the kitchen window boarded up.

‘It's in the fridge. It'll need warming up,' Kevin said.

‘I'll do it,' I said, handing Agnes to Kevin. ‘And I'll make a cup of tea. Might help to keep me awake.'

I got the bottle out of the fridge and put the kettle on. Kevin sat down at the table and tried to distract Agnes by joggling her up and down.

‘There should be some biscuits somewhere,' he said. ‘Try that cupboard.'

‘This one?' I opened a door on an array of packets and jars and reached for a tin that looked as if it might contain biscuits.

He looked up from trying to entertain Agnes. It wasn't working anyway, she was still sobbing away.

He raised his voice to be heard over her. ‘No, no. That's all our landlord's stuff in there. They're coming back in October. Next along. Yes, there's a packet of digestives.'

I got it out, sat down opposite Kevin and watched him handling his baby. What had I been thinking of? There was nothing sinister about this. I was so tired that I was losing my grip on reality. Kevin was just an anxious father, and no wonder, alone here with Agnes. As for how Agnes had looked earlier, well, I knew from my experience with Grace how quickly even a fractious baby could tall asleep.