The Winter Folly (19 page)

‘John? Are you all right?’

‘Delilah . . .’ He sounded tired and mournful. The slight slur in his voice made her think he’d been drinking.

‘Yes, darling. I’m here. Is everything okay?’

He sighed down the phone and then after a long pause said, ‘I miss you.’

‘I miss you too, darling,’ she said, her heart full of tenderness for him. He was drunk and wanting her, and she wished hard that she could be there to touch him and comfort him.

‘I hate it that you’re not here. It’s the first time we’ve been separated and I bloody hate it.’

‘So do I. I can’t wait to be home with you.’

‘I’m rattling around here on my own. I’d forgotten how bloody awful it is. I need you. It’s lonely here. No – not lonely. They’re all here. The ghosts. God,
they’re all here.’

‘John, are you all right?’ She remembered her dream. Was the ghost of his mother one of those who were tormenting him? Who were the others?

‘Yes. I’m fine. I’m not going crazy. I’m just being suffocated by this place, as usual. If I could burn it down, I would. But I’m too much of a coward for
that.’

‘John . . .’ She was suddenly afraid that in the grip of morbid drunkenness he might cause himself some harm or do something stupid that he’d regret. ‘Don’t stay up
any longer. I want you to go to bed and sleep. Hug my pillow and pretend I’m there, and when you wake up, I will be. I’m going to come as soon as I can. Do you promise me you’ll
go straight to sleep?’

He exhaled another long sigh. ‘Yes. No Macallan left anyway.’

‘Good. Just go up to bed and I’ll be home as soon as I can.’

‘Okay. Night, darling.’ He sounded docile and almost overcome with sleep. He rang off before she could say any more.

She put her phone down. The first train back didn’t leave until five thirty in the morning so there was no way to get back before then. She lay down on her pillows and tried to be calm.
John had sounded as though he was going to take himself off to bed, just as she’d asked him to. He would be perfectly all right, and would probably sleep well beyond the time it would take
Delilah to get home. It was the dream that had left her agitated and unhappy. She couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of Alex at the top of the folly, poised to jump, and the feeling that
she had to stop it somehow.

She set the alarm on her phone for four thirty and tried to get back to sleep but she only dozed fitfully until it went off and she could get up.

The journey seemed to take forever but the consolation was the glorious sight of the sun rising and watching the day turn from the pale blue and pink of the early morning to
rich gold and cerulean, as the suburbs of London disappeared and lush countryside began. Delilah felt as though she could breathe again, and realised to her surprise that perhaps she was not a
Londoner any more and never would be again. Fort Stirling had spoiled her for all that. Erryl was waiting for her when she finally arrived at her destination.

‘Morning, ma’am,’ he said, coming forward to take her bags as she emerged from the station.

‘Morning, Erryl. Thanks for collecting me.’

‘No problem. Happy to.’

‘Is everything all right at home?’

‘Seems to be. Janey went up first thing. She said everything seemed just as normal. Mr Stirling’s still asleep.’

‘Good. I’d like to be there when he wakes up.’

They climbed into the car and Erryl drove them smoothly out of the station car park and along the country lanes bordered with hedges and spreading trees in their thick summery foliage of juicy
green.

As they went through the village, Delilah’s eye was caught by the church and the leafy graveyard over its walls.

I’ll go and see if I can find her grave
, she thought.
After all, it can’t hurt to look.

The effect of her dream was wearing off now, but she still felt a residue of panic and sadness. Perhaps if she could see the grave, it would bring home that these things actually happened
decades ago. There was nothing she could do about it all now.

The village was quiet in the early morning, and storybook pretty in its summer bloom. The houses were the sort that cost a fortune now: beautiful old properties with white-painted windows and
immaculate front gardens. There was one she had always noticed as having particular charm with its old curved stone porch above a pale green front door, climbing roses bringing a delicate beauty to
the old brickwork, and she wondered who lived there. There was a divide between the village and the big house that John had made no effort to bridge.
I’ll have to do something about
that
, she thought.
I’ll let the pony club have their gymkhana for a start.

For the first time in a while, it was a relief to see the stone pillars that flanked the gateway to the drive. The car took the brink of the hill and they saw the house lying below, peaceful and
serene in its hollow. As soon as Erryl pulled the car up to a halt in front of the house, she ran in, leaving him to bring in her bags. She took the staircase two steps at a time, then hurried
along the corridor to John’s room at the front of the house. It was still shrouded in darkness despite the sunshine without, the heavy curtains blocking the windows. As she came in,
breathless, she saw John shift in the bed and open his eyes.

‘Delilah?’ he said croakily.

‘Yes, darling, I’m back! I’m here.’

He held out his arms and she rushed to him, jumping onto the bed and into his embrace. He was bare-chested, warm and delicious-smelling as he pulled her tightly to him.

‘Christ, I’ve missed you,’ he murmured into her hair.

‘Me too. But I’m back home now. We’re together.’

‘I’ve been horrible to you lately. I’m so sorry.’ He pulled away, holding her at arm’s length so that he could gaze at her earnestly. ‘Do you forgive
me?’

Her heart melted at the sight of his pleading grey eyes, and the vulnerability of his mouth. ‘Of course I do. I want us to be happy, just as we normally are. I can’t be happy without
you.’

He hugged her tight again. ‘And it turns out I can’t be happy without you either.’

‘How do you feel?’ she asked, running her hand along the firmness of his upper arm.

‘Hmm.’ He grimaced slightly. ‘A bit rough. I had a dram or two too much last night.’

‘I was worried about you. You said there were ghosts here. You talked about burning them out.’

‘Did I?’ He laughed a little sheepishly. ‘I’m full of hot air; don’t listen to me. I’d never hurt the house. And of course a place like this is haunted
– what did you expect? It’s been occupied since Norman times. We’ve got plenty of tormented characters pacing the battlements or floating down corridors.’

‘Really? You’ve never mentioned them before.’

‘To be honest, I haven’t seen anything myself. I’ve heard the odd crash in the night but that’s about it. Now . . . don’t let’s talk about ghosts and ghouls .
. . I’ve missed you.’ He began to kiss her tenderly. There was still a hint of whisky on his breath but it was soon lost as they kissed deeply and passionately.

‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ he murmured, and together they took off her jacket, silk T-shirt and slipped off her white cotton trousers. When she was just in her
underwear – a white lace bra and matching knickers – he gazed at her appreciatively. ‘That’s much better, but still . . . why don’t you come here and let me help
you?’

She smiled and went to him, hungry for the comfort of making love and needing to feel close to him again.

Afterwards, John fell back into a slumber and she watched him for a while, luxuriating in their reconciliation.

But it won’t last
, said a voice in her head.
You know it won’t.

A twist of fear turned inside her. She saw their future suddenly: a downward spiral marked by moments like this when they turned to one another in their mutual desperation and need for comfort,
only to be forced apart again.

Am I really going to lose him?
She couldn’t bear the thought, and she stretched out a hand and ran her fingers lightly along his skin so as to feel his warmth but not wake
him.

I won’t let it happen
, she vowed.
I’ll find out what troubles him so much. I’ll fix it. I know I can do it.

She thought of Grey telling her to be careful what she stirred up, to be wary of where she rushed in.

But I can’t leave things the way they are. It will destroy us, I know it will.

When the email came from Rachel asking Delilah if she wanted the New York commission, she replied saying she’d decided it wasn’t for her this time. Maybe another
job.

She pressed send, certain she was doing the right thing. This wasn’t the time to run away from what was frightening her. She would stay and face it, and whatever it brought her.

1965

‘She’s not here. I told you.’ Nicky stepped back and let her inside.

‘Where is she?’ Alexandra went in, glancing anxiously about. The last two times she had visited, Polly had been here and that had meant she had been unable to relax and enjoy her
precious time with Nicky.

‘Away,’ he replied briefly. ‘She’s not even in London.’

Alexandra breathed out happily, feeling the tension leave her. Not even in London? Then there was nothing to be afraid of and she was happy because today meant so much to her . . .

‘I’m so happy to see you,’ Nicky said, holding both her hands and smiling down at her. ‘I miss you so much when we’re not together.’

‘Me too,’ she said. Then she hugged him impulsively, pressing her face against his warm chest.

‘What’s this?’ he laughed. ‘Are you all right?’

She nodded, not knowing how to say what she had resolved to.

‘Alex, I mean it . . .’ He put his thumb and forefinger on her chin and turned her face to his with a concerned look in his eyes. ‘Are you all right? Has Laurence said
anything?’

She shook her head, still mute.

‘You’re worrying me. There’s something on your mind, I can tell. What is it, darling?’

He had started calling her that, and she loved it even though she was sure he called lots of people darling. She’d heard him call Polly darling a few times and it had stung, despite
knowing there was nothing to it.

‘I . . . I want us to go to bed together,’ she said, letting it all come out in a rush once she’d decided to say it.

His expression changed from anxiety to something else: surprise and pleasure mixed together. ‘Darling . . . are you sure?’

She nodded. ‘Completely. It would mean everything to me.’

‘Oh . . .’ He took a deep breath, as though understanding the solemnity of it, the seriousness with which she was offering herself to him. ‘My darling, I can’t think of
anything I want more than for us to be . . . close – as close as possible.’

‘I want it now,’ she said quietly. ‘Now . . . please.’

He started to laugh and then caught himself. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not funny, it’s wonderful and you’re my gorgeous, precious—’ He stopped talking to kiss
her, his arms taking her into a hard embrace.

She opened her mouth to him, lifting her chin and letting her head fall back so that he would know that she intended to yield entirely to him. She had decided this when she’d realised how
much she abhorred being close to her husband and how afraid she was that one day he would find whatever it was he needed to desire her, and he would learn how to make her body accept him, and then
she would belong to him. That prospect outraged her. She wanted to rob him of that victory and make sure it could never be his. Her celebration of what she felt for Nicky and the love that utterly
possessed her would mean taking her first step with him. He would have her virginity. Then, no matter what, Laurence could never claim the right to her, not really. She knew it might not make sense
to others, but it did to her and she was determined to do it.

Nicky seemed to be letting go of something that had restrained him up until now, kissing her with a new kind of passion. She wondered for a fearful moment what she had unleashed. He was not like
Laurence, inexperienced, cold and half-hearted. He had done this before and he knew what she could offer him. She longed to know what that was, afraid that her ignorance might cause her to fail him
somehow, and yet she was also sure that her body would take over and tell her instinctively what to do. She already knew that during her kissing sessions with Nicky, she had experienced physical
changes. Now she would surely learn their purpose. The excitement began to overshadow any apprehension she was feeling.

‘Darling,’ he murmured. ‘Shall we go upstairs?’

She nodded and they climbed the narrow staircase to Nicky’s bedroom with its bedhead upholstered in canary-yellow
velvet and covered by an eiderdown of speckled blue like a Delft tile. They had been here before but now she approached the bed almost reverently. So, this was where it would happen. Nicky closed
the curtains, sinking the room into daytime gloom.

I’m wicked
, she told herself, remembering how the girls at school talked of being with their husbands and the magical moment when the mysteries of love would be revealed.
I’m very bad, beyond redemption. I’m going to bed with a man who isn’t my husband.

She looked down at her wedding band and engagement ring, then slipped them off and put them in her pocket, as Nicky turned to her and kissed her again.

It was mysterious and solemn at the same time as it felt utterly right and unbearably beautiful. Alexandra hadn’t expected that. She knew that her love for Nicky would
make it less dreadful than it had been with Laurence, but she hadn’t anticipated that it would be so moving. From the moment he slowly undressed her, kissing each newly revealed part of her
with reverence, she felt close to tears at the same time as she bit her lip with pleasure. He kissed her breasts as he unfastened her bra, marvelling over their beauty and then taking each rosy
nipple in his mouth, making her gasp with surprise and then sigh with delight. When she was standing in just her knickers, her summer dress on the floor at her feet, he whispered that she was
beautiful beyond measure and that he wanted her. He began to undress himself, taking off his shirt. The longed-for sight of his body made her a little frightened but also exhilarated. It was so
utterly different from her own, the strong muscled arms and the hard chest scattered with dark hair in contrast to her own soft flesh and breasts. He smelled musky and delicious and she wanted to
bite his skin, gnaw into the brown warmth of his neck and pull her nails down the broad expanse of his back. He slipped off his trousers and she saw the terrifying bulge beneath, still contained
but showing a rigid outline. She was scared but her body reacted by sending signals of delight throbbing through her. Whatever was going to happen, she was evidently preparing for it.