In her head, and listening to Annelise make herself comfortable in the chair to her right, she said hello back to her. In her head she also began to say how sorry she was for her every act of neglect and disapproval. For working when she should have been—
Mid thought, she stopped listing all the things for which she needed to apologise, and concentrated on what Annelise was saying. But she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Not from Annelise.No!
ChapterFifty-Three
Melstead Hall, Melstead St Mary
December 1962
Julia
‘Going out, Mrs Devereux?’
Julia nearly jumped out of her skin. She felt her cheeks flush and a quake of fear gripped at her insides. ‘Yes, Miss Casey,’ she said with as much authority as she could summon.
‘Are you sure that’s wise, madam?’
Grasping the handles of her handbag while standing in the large hallway, a couple of yards from the front door, Julia said, ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m surprised to see you up and dressed, madam, that’s all, let alone venturing out into the fog. It might not be good for you, given how unwell you’ve been of late. And you know how Mr Devereux worries about you.’
The quaking to Julia’s insides intensified. But she was determined to go out. ‘With Christmas around the corner,’ she said, trying to stick to the script she had written for herself, ‘I want to buy some Christmas cards.’
‘But the car, madam. It’s in London with Mr Devereux.’
‘I’m quite capable of walking. It will do me good. Is that all, Miss Casey?’ She forced a note of dismissal to her tone and the other woman, her face perpetually inscrutable, blinked, then looked steadily back at her with her cold blue eyes. Never before had Julia challenged her and she could see that it had taken the housekeeper off guard. Doubtless there would be consequences.Toe the line or face the consequences.That was another instruction from her father’s rule book.
Shutting the front door after her, she set off down the driveway in the damp cold at a brisk pace. Not once did she turn around and look back.
The fog had finally begun to lift. When Julia had opened the curtains in her bedroom this morning and seen that for the first time in days the end of the driveway was clearly visible, she had made up her mind that she would dress and walk into the village. And nothing would stop her.
Until this morning, she could not have contemplated the journey. She blamed the tonic and the sleeping pills the doctor from London had prescribed her. ‘He’s the best in Harley Street,’ Arthur had said when she had rung him one evening to say she needed him to come home, that she was sick with worry.
‘For goodness sake, whatever are you babbling on about?’ he’d demanded.
‘It’s Hope. Surely you’ve read about her in the newspapers. She’s still in a coma. Arthur, we have to say something’
‘And what do you suggest we say?’
‘The truth! I can’t go on like this. I can’t sleep and I can’t eat. My nerves are shot to pieces. What if she dies?’
‘For God’s sake, pull yourself together, Julia! You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re overwrought and making yourself ill.’
‘But the car, Arthur.’
‘What about the car?’
‘It must have been damaged in the accident. What if—’
‘Now listen to me very carefully. What little damage the deer made, the car has been repaired while I’ve been here in London. And do I have to remind you that if you say anything contrary to the fact that I hit a deer, you know what will happen, don’t you? Prison. Not for me, but foryou.Is that what you want? Is it what you want for Charles?’
She had been crying by this stage of the conversation and only stopped when Arthur’s tone became more conciliatory. ‘Come on old thing,’ he said soothingly. ‘Don’t cry, that won’t help anyone. Now I want you to promise me something. I want you to see this excellent nerve doctor I know. I’ll send him up to you and he’ll give you a thorough once over. But you must promise you’ll take what he prescribes you. Will you do that for me?’
‘I’d sooner you came home,’ she’d said.
‘I’ll be home very soon. I have business matters here to deal with. Now will you promise you’ll do as Dr Monk says? After all, you want to be well for when Charles comes home for the Christmas holiday, don’t you?’
‘Why go to all the bother of sending a doctor from London to see me?’ she’d then asked. ‘I’ll see Dr Flowerday.’
