The Edge of the Fall by Kate Williams Page B

touch her skin. Her fingers drifted. ‘It’s Louisa, Celia. Louisa’s dead.’

SIX

    Stoneythorpe, September 1920
    Celia
    Celia gazed at her mother. ‘What do you mean, dead?’ Verena’s words seemed like a magic spell, something flying up into the sky. ‘How can she be dead?’
    Verena put her hands over her face.
    â€˜I saw her in London just a few weeks ago.’ The door of the restaurant, gold paint peeling off the wood.
    Verena didn’t move. ‘They were in Margate. And she’s dead.’
    Celia gazed at her. ‘How did it happen?’
    â€˜She fell from a cliff. Arthur was with her.’
    â€˜Where is he?’
    â€˜I don’t know. The police are looking for him. Your father’s gone with them. They’ve been here all day, asking about him. Treating me like a criminal. They’re coming back tomorrow. Asking so many questions.’
    â€˜I saw stories at the station about a girl who fell from a cliff. Was that Louisa?’ The flurry of details screaming out about the death. Poor thing , she’d thought. Poor girl. A suicide . Louisa, her long fair hair strewn about her as she lay crumpled on the rocks. Louisa in her pale-green tea dress before Christmas, her shoes with the heel.
    â€˜She killed herself?’
    â€˜We don’t know. They need to speak to Arthur.’
    â€˜Is he still in Margate?’
    Verena shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I can’t . . .’
    â€˜I saw her. I saw her in London. I told you. I ran after her andtried to talk to her. She wouldn’t talk to me. She said she was fine. She looked fine.’
    Verena put her head in her hands. ‘Celia. Please stop.’
    â€˜I should have made her come. I should have forced her.’ She could have made Tom help her, pull her into a car.
    Verena turned away. ‘Rudolf is coming back later. Emmeline is arriving tomorrow. You can ask them. I can’t think. I’m going to bed.’
    Celia sat in the parlour, staring out of the window. Then she roused herself. She went to find Thompson. ‘I have to go to Margate. She can’t be on her own.’
    â€˜Margate? You can’t go alone. And there’s nothing you can do for her now anyway, miss. I’m sorry.’
    â€˜I have to go. Will you take me to the station?’
    He shook his head. ‘They’d never allow it. Wait until Mr de Witt comes home, at least.’
    â€˜I have to go now.’
    â€˜Let’s wait until he comes home. He won’t be long now.’
    She waited in the hall until Rudolf returned, half an hour later. He put down his hat, exhausted, dropped it on the hall table. She begged him to let her leave. ‘You can go tomorrow, Celia,’ he said. ‘Stay here for the moment. Your mother needs you.’
    â€˜Louisa needs us. She’s there. Alone.’
    â€˜Tomorrow.’
    While she waited that night, Celia’s mind spooled and shot. She tried to distract it, to force herself to stay calm. She tried to remember happy things. The birth of the twins on Peace Day.
    The next morning, she woke to a hammering on the front door. She heard Thompson walk to it across the marble floor. There was a shout of voices, questions. He slammed the door again. But then they were still shouting. ‘Where’s Arthur de Witt? Why are you hiding him? Bring him out here!’
    She put the pillow over her head, tried not to weep.
    â€˜How could this have happened?’ Emmeline was staring at them. She and Mr Janus had hired a driver, hurried down first thing inthe morning. ‘Louisa’s dead, Arthur’s nowhere to be found and there’s all those people from the papers screaming outside. What are we going to do?’
    â€˜Nothing,’ said Verena. ‘Arthur will come back. It was a terrible accident.’
    â€˜That lot outside will find new blood,’ said Mr Janus.
    The police were due to come back again in an