Voices in a Haunted Room

“Its aspect could be completely changed,” he said. “I’ve always said that if those bushes were cut back and a little light let in, and the woodwork repaired, it would make all the difference.”

“There’s a great deal of work to be done.”

“That’s what Sophie has always needed ... an interest.”

“Fate has brought her here and led her to Enderby.”

“Fate,” he agreed, “in the shape of Jonathan.”

The very mention of his name affected me. I could not forget that talk in the shrubbery.

I shivered.

”Are you cold?” asked David.

“No ... no.”

“Just someone walking over your grave, as they say.”

“I hate that expression.”

“I do too. I shouldn’t have said it. One shouldn’t refer to one’s grave when one is very much in the land of the living.” He put an arm around me. “I believe you would like to live in this house.”

“No, David, no!”

“I’ve often thought about these big family houses like Eversleigh with the whole family living in it. The sons marrying and bringing in then wives ... and their children growing up there. It has occurred to me ... in the last few days ... that you might not like it and might prefer to get away.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” I was thinking of it now. Jonathan’s living under the same roof. He had few scruples where his desires were concerned. He was like his father in that. I had heard tales of Dickon’s wild youth. He had reformed not because he considered reformation desirable, but because he loved my mother exclusively.

It was purely his own emotions-not a sense of honour-which kept him faithful. Eversleigh had become dangerous to me because it held Jonathan and me in close proximity. But how could I tell David that? And that the one I feared was not so much Jonathan as myself.

“There are houses on the estate,” went on David. “For instance, the manager’s.”

“Occupied by a manager at the moment.”

“Jack Dolland is a good fellow. I don’t know what we’d do without him. It was just an idea. I don’t think my father would like it ... but I did wonder whether you did not care for living in the main house. Of course, your mother is there.”

“I am sure she would be most upset if we talked of going anywhere else.”

“Then we’ll stay. In any case, I don’t think it would be feasible just yet. It was just a thought.”

“Why did you bring it up now? Oh ... Enderby, I suppose. David, I love Eversleigh.

I have since the moment I saw it. I should not want to leave it.”

“Then that’s settled,” he said. “You know, this really is a bargain house.”

“A great deal will have to be spent on renovations.”

“Even so there is some good furniture in it.”

”It will certainly save Sophie’s buying a lot.”

“I believe there is also furniture stored away in the attics at Eversleigh. I expect your mother will go through them and see what can be passed on.”

“It is rather exciting, isn’t it? I mean for us all, not only Sophie. It will be nice to have the place occupied.”

He agreed, and arm in arm we went through the house. It was strange how different it felt with David.

They were pleasant days, though I could not quite recapture the honeymoon spirit.

We rode round the estate together; David was welcomed everywhere. So was I.

Sophie and Jeanne spent hours talking about the house, and I told them that Molly Blackett would be able to make the curtains for them.

They discussed materials and colour schemes; and it really was extraordinary to see the change in Sophie.

Jonathan, my mother and Dickon were away for just over a week. The weather had changed and it was less mild than it had been. The damp and the mists had given way to an east wind-the one we knew very well in this south-eastern corner of England. It could be penetrating and fierce, and although we were sheltered a little, being a few miles inland, it was never very welcome.

It turned to the north and that could bring snow. I had been a little anxious for fear the snow would delay their journey, perhaps prevent their getting home, so when I heard the carriage turn in at the drive I ran down joyfully to meet them.

I embraced my mother and we clung together.

“Oh, I’m glad to be home,” she said. “Just look at the sky. Ominous! Those are snow clouds up there.”

“It’s too early for snow,” said Dickon. “It usually comes after Christmas. How have you been getting on without us, Claudine?”

He kissed me. And there was Jonathan, smiling at me, picking me up, swinging me high, holding me tightly and laughing up at me.

“Do you know,” he said, “I forget she’s a married woman now. I see her as little French Claudine.”

My mother laughed and so did Dickon. They were so glad to be home.

Jonathan put me down and kissed me hard on the mouth.

“So you’re pleased to have us home, eh?”

“Of course,” I said, turning away and slipping my arm through that of my mother.

“I think Aunt Sophie has really decided.”

“I can’t believe it,” said my mother.