“She’s one of the guests at the barn and your dad found her on the lane last night, in the middle of the storm. Just her, she’d gone out on her own. She turned her ankle on the way down so she was stuck there when he found her, absolutely freezing, soaked through. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been out there.”
William notices the unfamiliar clothing draped over a clothes horse in front of the Aga. Nothing suitable for last night’s conditions.
“What was she thinking? Didn’t you warn her about going out at night?”
“Of course, we did! But she was determined to phone her husband.”
“Because of this letter they got?” He feels as if he doesn’t have a complete understanding, yet, of what’s happened. It sounded like such a tall story when his mother recounted it on the phone in the middle of the night. He could barely keep up with it.
“The letter arrived here by a motorcycle courier along with a present and your dad and I took it up to the barn and left it out for them. There were special instructions telling us what to do. I thought the letter was something nice, but apparently it wasn’t at all. It contained a threat against their husbands. She was terrified. Your dad knew, you know, that it wasn’t anything good. I wish we’d never left it there, now.”
“Did she bring the letter down with her?”
“No.”
“It’s still up at the barn?”
“I suppose so.”
“I’ll have to take a look at it.”
The bacon spits in the pan and the smell of it fills the room. Maggie puts a bottle of ketchup on the table in front of William. As she slices bread and butters it thickly, she describes in detail how the letter was delivered and what the instructions meant for her and John said.
As he watches and listens, he pays close attention but he’s also aware that this is how he thinks of his mother when he’s not here, working in the kitchen with fluent movements. Her strength, her big heart, and her sharp mind have been the glue that holds their family together.
“Right,” he says. “And she dialed 999 with this, did she?”
She nods. “Asking them to get a car out to her home, to see if her husband was alive. I think she believed the threat in that letter with her whole heart.”
She puts the sandwich down in front of him and sits opposite him. He eats it in a few bites. It tastes sweet and smoky. Bacon fat and melted butter oil his lips.
Maggie says, “She got very upset when they said the letter wasn’t enough of a reason to get a car out.”
“It wouldn’t be. Not in the middle of the night.”
“So, I called you.”
“And I take it the letter wasn’t signed?”
“Only with an initial. An ‘E.’ That’s how they know who sent it.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Not even a name? That’s a bit cryptic, isn’t it? How can they be so certain about who this ‘E’ is? I think if I was them, I’d be asking myself questions about that because it sounds as if someone’s playing games with them. What a strange affair.” He finishes his tea in two big gulps. “I’d better have a chat with her, then.”
“She’s sleeping like the dead.”
“Can you wake her?”
As she leaves the kitchen, he asks, “What was Dad doing out there in the middle of the night, anyway?”
Her shoulder blades twitch and freeze. This micromovement is another memory he holds. How you can wound her, but only in the seconds before she gets her guard up.
“He wanted to check on the sheep in the top field.”
If she turns around, she’s telling the truth, he thinks.And if not...
She continues into the darkness of the hallway, the patterns on her housecoat claimed by shadows.
“Where’s Dad now?” he shouts.
