Stranded by Val McDermid Page A

opposed to it. And you know how hard I find it to say no to you. Jane, I need to do this. It’ll be fine, I promise you. We’ll find somewhere lovely to live in London, near your friends.’
    Wordlessly, Jane picked up her coffee cup and hurled it at Edmund. It caught him in the middle of the forehead. He barely flinched as the hot liquid poured down his face, turning his sweater brown. ‘You insensitive pig,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Hadn’t you noticed I haven’t had a period for two months? I’m pregnant, Edmund, you utter bastard. I’m two months pregnant and you want to turn my life upside down?’ Then she ran from the room slamming the heavy door behind her, no mean feat in itself.
    In the stunned silence that followed Jane’s bombshell, no one moved. Then Edmund, his face seeming to disintegrate, pushed his chair back with a screech and hurried wordlessly after his wife. I turned to look at Diana. The sight of her stricken face was like a blow to the chest. I barely registered Evie sighing, ‘How sharper than a serpent’s tooth,’ before she too left the room. Before the door closed behind her, I was out of my chair, Diana pressed close to me.
    Dinner that evening was the first meal I’d eaten at Amberley in an atmosphere of strain. Hardly a word was spoken, and I suspect I wasn’t alone in feeling relief when Edmund rose abruptly before coffee and announced he was going down to the village to rehearse. ‘Don’t wait up,’ he said tersely.
    Jane went upstairs as soon as the meal was over. Evie sat down with us to watch a film, but half an hour into it, she rose and said, ‘I’m sorry. I’m not concentrating. Your brother has given me rather too much to think about. I’m going back to the Dower House.’
    Diana and I walked to the door with her mother. We stood under the portico, watching the dark figure against the snow. The air was heavy, the sky lowering. ‘Feels like a storm brewing,’ Diana remarked. ‘Even the weather’s cross with Edmund.’
    We watched the rest of the film then decided to go up to bed. As we walked through the hall, I went to switch off the lights on the Christmas tree. ‘Leave them,’ Diana said. ‘Edmund will turn them off when he comes in. It’s tradition – last to bed does the tree.’ She smiled reminiscently. ‘The number of times I’ve come back from parties in the early hours and seen the tree shining down the drive.’
    About an hour later, the storm broke. We were reading in bed when a clap of thunder as loud as a bomb blast crashed over the house. Then a rattle of machine-gun fire against the window. We clutched each other in surprise, though heaven knows we’ve never needed an excuse. Diana slipped out of bed and pulled back one of the heavy damask curtains so we could watch the hail pelt the window and the bolts of lightning flash jagged across the sky. It raged for nearly half an hour. Diana and I played the game of counting the gap between thunderclaps and lightning flashes, which told us the storm seemed to be circling Amberley itself, moving off only to come back and blast us again with lightning and hail.
    Eventually it moved off to the west, occasional flashes lighting up the distant hills. Somehow, it seemed the right time to make love. As we lay together afterwards, revelling in the luxury of satiated sensuality, the lights suddenly went out. ‘Damn,’ Diana drawled. ‘Bloody storm’s got the electrics on the blink.’ She stirred. ‘I’d better go down and check the fuse box.’
    I grabbed her. ‘Leave it,’ I urged. ‘Edmund can do it when he comes in. We’re all warm and sleepy. Besides, I might get lonely.’
    Diana chuckled and snuggled back into my arms. Moments later, the lights came back on again. ‘See?’ I said. ‘No need. Probably a problem at the