The Winter Folly (49 page)

‘You didn’t ask your father?’

He laughed mirthlessly. ‘I would have sooner stabbed my eyes out than talk about the thing that so evidently destroyed my father. I never mentioned any of it, and I knew he would lie to
protect me too. I assumed he’d told me she’d gone away in the same way that our dogs “went away” – they’d died but he tried to pretend it was something else. And
I had no reason to think my mother was alive. I never heard from her, there was no prospect of her returning.’

She took his hand and held it gently, glad that he was letting her do so. ‘John, it wasn’t your mother who jumped off the folly. It was your grandmother. The rumours in the village
managed to turn your mother’s sudden absence into a mysterious death. That must have been what your nanny was talking about. But it wasn’t true.’

He looked pale and strained as he took this in. ‘Right.’ He shook his head. ‘Good God, no wonder I hate the damn place. I always knew something vile happened there.’

‘I’m just sorry you heard all that gossip and believed it. That must have made it much worse for you.’ She stroked the back of his hand. ‘But I’m glad your father
never lied to you.’

There was a pause and then John said roughly, ‘So why? You said you know why. Why did my mother leave?’

‘I think . . . she did it for your father.’

‘What?’ he snapped. ‘Don’t talk rubbish.’ He went as if to get up, but Delilah stopped him, speaking quickly.

‘It wasn’t just any hit-and-run driver that killed Elaine. Your mother was behind the wheel of the car and she killed Elaine in a terrible accident.’

John pulled in a sharp breath and recoiled as if struck.

‘You didn’t know . . .’

‘No! No, of course not. Christ, how dreadful. Oh my God.’ He groaned and put his hand to his head. ‘I can’t believe that.’

‘It’s appalling,’ she agreed wholeheartedly. ‘Ever since I found that out, I can’t stop seeing it. That poor child – and your poor mother. But it’s more
understandable when you know what happened to her earlier that afternoon. She was in shock. Emily Jessop – the woman who’d been a maid at the Old Grange – she told me what
happened. Your grandfather specialised in making your mother’s life a misery and he was particularly furious when she married your father. So furious that eventually he decided to do his best
to wreck her life once and for all. And the hell of it is, he succeeded.’

John had gone very still now, listening intently. When Delilah paused, wondering how to tell the next part, he said abruptly, ‘What did he do? I knew my father always hated him.’

‘I don’t think your father knew about this final act of wickedness,’ Delilah said quietly. ‘The old man told a lie that exploded your mother’s marriage and took
away the only good things in her life – you and Nicky. He told her that she was the child of an affair between her mother and Nicky’s father.’

The implication took only a moment to sink in and then John drew in a breath with a hiss of shock. ‘Fuck!’ he swore. ‘Fuck.’ He looked dazed under this new and terrible
idea. ‘You mean . . .’

‘An incestuous marriage. Illegal. Invalid.’ Delilah said the words slowly and with emphasis. She felt that they carried with them all the force that had impelled Alexandra out of
John’s life.

‘Oh God,’ John said. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he said in a low voice, ‘So that’s why she went.’

Delilah nodded. ‘She wasn’t in her right mind, I think that must be true. The old priest who conducted Elaine’s funeral told me she seemed to be in hell. But it wasn’t
just Elaine’s death, it was this ghastly knowledge. I think she did what she thought was the only sane thing – she released Nicky from his marriage to her. But she decided to leave you
behind, to be his comfort and probably to protect you too. I don’t know for sure – when I saw your mother, she said nothing about all of this. I think she wanted to take this secret to
her grave. I only know because of Emily Jessop.’

John turned to her, his expression suddenly agonised, obviously deeply shaken. ‘But it was true?’ he whispered through dry lips. ‘Were my parents . . . related?’

Delilah shook her head, her heart bleeding for him. ‘It wasn’t true. Emily will swear to it.’

‘Oh God,’ he said again, his voice shaking with emotion.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him to her. This time he crumpled into her arms and let her comfort him.

Once John had absorbed what she’d told him and recovered from his initial shock, it was all they could talk about. They discussed it through the evening and into the
night, barely sleeping before waking again to talk more. She could never have imagined that he would have so much to say on a subject that had once appeared to be absolutely closed. He seemed to
feel dazed by the extent of the grief his grandfather’s wicked lie had caused. It had reverberated down over decades and, like a huge wave, had washed away lives with it.

‘You must see he can’t be allowed to get away with it,’ Delilah said to him as they lay in bed, side by side.

‘He was a vile old man,’ John said in a heartfelt tone.

‘Well, he must have been very miserable,’ Delilah said, trying to be noble.

‘Let’s hope so.’

‘But either way, you mustn’t let him win.’ She ran her hand over his arm, feeling his warm skin under her finger-tips.

‘What do you mean?’

‘If you go on hating your mother and not forgiving her, if you go on wishing she were dead – then he’s won.’ This had been the conclusion she had felt sure they must
eventually reach but even so, she held her breath after she’d said it, half fearful of his reaction.

‘I know,’ he replied after a moment, his voice more normal than she’d heard it for a very long time. ‘I suppose I’m beginning to accept that. She had an awful time,
I can see that. I’ve never really thought before about her pain. I can do that now.’

‘So . . . would you be prepared to see her again?’ She held her breath, her stomach fluttering with excitement.

He turned to look at her. ‘Do you think she’d be prepared to see me?’

‘Oh.’ She thought for a moment, realising it would not be that straightforward. ‘Of course, she still believes that Nicky is her brother. That’s what she’s
punishing herself for and why she doesn’t think she can see you or Nicky again.’

‘We’ll just have to convince her she’s wrong.’

‘How? Shall we wheel Miss Jessop all the way to Patmos?’ They both laughed at the ridiculous image. Then Delilah said softly, ‘Why don’t we go back and tell her
ourselves?’

He turned to her suddenly and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly to him, pressing his face against her cheek. She felt a tremendous lift of happiness, drinking in his nearness as a
wash of relief flooded over her. He was back, she knew it for sure. It was going to be all right between them.

He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, ‘Thank you. Thank you, Delilah.’

‘Welcome back.’ The woman behind the desk of the Hotel Joannis did not try to hide her surprise. ‘I’m very pleased to see that you must have enjoyed
your stay here to come back so soon.’ She smiled at Delilah and then looked across to John. ‘And you’ve brought your husband this time.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Delilah beamed at her.

‘I’m pleased we have some availability for you. The cancellation meant I could find you a double room.’

‘Thank you so much.’

‘Please, follow me.’

This room was a larger double and almost twice the price, but Delilah thought it was worth it. From the wide windows they had a view of the beautiful sea stretching away, and the hummocks of the
island and a glimpse of the yachts moored at the edge of the bay. She went to the window and gazed out, breathing in the hot salty tang of the air, then turned to John. ‘Isn’t this
wonderful?’

‘Yes,’ he said. He had a slightly bewildered air about him as if he did not quite believe where he was. ‘It is, actually. It’s gorgeous. I can see why you fell in love
with this place.’

‘Why your mother fell in love with it,’ she reminded him.

‘Hmm.’ He came over to her and wrapped his arms around her, tucking his chin in beside her neck. ‘I’m nervous about this.’

‘Don’t be,’ she said stoutly. ‘We’ve got our plan. I’ll see her first and explain and we’ll see how it goes from there. One step at a time.’

John looked out again, shaking his head. ‘She’s here – on this island. I can’t believe it.’ Then he nuzzled into her neck and kissed the soft skin there. ‘But
. . . I’d rather think about you right now. Do you know, you taste of honey?’

Delilah sighed luxuriously. ‘I feel strange. Relaxed but keyed up. Excited and yet completely languorous.’

‘I know what you mean. I feel the same way.’ He pulled her around so that she was facing him, wisps of her hair being lifted by the light breeze coming in through the window.
‘Just in the right mood for . . .’

‘Really?’ She laughed a little. ‘Are you?’

‘I’d like to very much,’ he said. ‘I feel very close to you right now. I want to be as close as I can.’

She softened in his arms. ‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘Yes, please.’

He unbuttoned her light cotton shirt and pushed it open to reveal her white bra beneath. He slipped one hand over her left breast, cupping it and then pushing back the lace to reveal her dark
pink nipple, shrunk down to a tight bud. ‘Oh, you’re so beautiful,’ he breathed, and bent his head to kiss it. She breathed in as he ran his tongue over it and tugged on it
gently. He moved to her mouth, kissing her lightly on the lips as his hand moved to her other breast, testing the hardness of her right nipple with the ball of his thumb. He kissed her harder as
her arms snaked around him, pulling him closer. He smelt of warm linen and the muskiness of skin reacting to summer heat. She kissed him back harder, pressing herself against him, wanting to feel
the whole of his body, lean and strong, against hers. She recalled the way they had made love the night she confessed about her trip here, the strange impersonality of it. The distance between them
had been a shock. The experience of having sex without making love had frightened her deeply.

We’re so lucky to have it back
, she thought, running her hands under his shirt and across the broad expanse of his back.
We so nearly didn’t.

They made slow and delicious love in the afternoon heat, the veil curtains blowing in and creating wafts of air to cool them as their skin pressed together, hot and sticky at times, smooth and
soft at others.

When it was over, she sighed happily. ‘I’m so glad we’re here. It’s a different kind of homecoming isn’t it?’

He nodded. ‘Yes. But it’s what happens tomorrow that counts.’

‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ she said, stroking his hair. ‘You’re here. I know it’s going to be all right.’

‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘It all depends on whether she’ll listen or not.’

The next afternoon they walked together up the steep road from Chora towards the west, taking their time, each of them filled with a fluttering excitement that was a mixture of
apprehension, fear and hope. Perhaps Alexandra wouldn’t be at home – she had the job at the monastery taking tourists around but that might not be every day. Her life was only vaguely
known to them. But at least Delilah knew where she lived.

‘We’re close now,’ she said, a sudden tension in her stomach. There was so much potential for this to go wrong. Alexandra didn’t know what they knew.

They walked on in silence, panting a little at the heat that made their efforts to climb the hill all the more strenuous. They stopped at last near the top, passing a water bottle between them
to quench their thirsts, but it was also to put off the moment to come just a little longer.

Delilah pointed up the hill to where the square villa rose among the pine trees at the foot of the monastery. ‘There it is. That’s hers.’

John followed the direction of her finger and stared at the house. It looked like so many of the others but this one was different. It was where his mother had lived unknown to him for years on
end, perhaps all the years that she’d been absent.

‘Come on,’ she said encouragingly. ‘We’re nearly there. Let’s do it.’

She strode on up the hill to the narrow street where the gate to the Villa Artemis stood slightly ajar.
Now
, she thought,
we really are at the end of our journey.

John said, ‘You go up. I’ll wait for you to call me.’ ‘All right.’ It was what they’d agreed. She turned and mounted the white stone steps until she’d
reached the door. Pausing for a moment, she took a breath, then knocked. She waited, the tension squealing in her nerves, and then the door opened. Alexandra stood there, clear-eyed and calm, and
gazing straight at her. When she spoke her voice was low and musical, vibrating with emotion.

‘I knew you’d come back,’ she said. ‘I’m ready. Come in.’

They sat together in Alexandra’s sitting room. The heat on the terrace was too blazing at this time of day. ‘There’s another on the other side of the
house,’ Alexandra said, ‘but we’ll be more comfortable here.’

A dish of marinated olives and glasses of cool citrusy iced water stood ignored on the table between them.

‘You were expecting me,’ Delilah said, feeling jumpy with adrenaline and excitement. The knowledge of John’s proximity made her edgy and she knew she must calm down.

Alexandra nodded. She was quite different, Delilah thought, flushed and glowing with an excitement that made her look almost girlish. ‘Ever since your last visit, I’ve not been able
to see things in quite the same light. You changed things for me, I’m not quite sure how. If you hadn’t come, I think I would have done my best to reach you somehow.’ She smiled
over at Delilah. ‘I was convinced nothing could change my mind and yet . . .’ She looked a little shamefaced suddenly. ‘That’s why I wish I hadn’t written that letter.
I would have done anything to take it back afterwards.’

‘It’s in a bin in Fort Stirling somewhere,’ Delilah said cheerfully. ‘In fact, it’s probably in the compost by now. John didn’t read it.’