Genevieve’s all right,’ I said, and I was trying to reassure myself as much as Claudia. ‘If she’s the sort of person who does things on the spur of the moment, then …’
‘But she’s never gone away like this before. Well, once … She went off the rails for a while when she was at university,but that’s not unusual, is it? Virginia was always so protective, it was no surprise that Genevieve kicked her heels up when she had the chance.’
I nodded.
‘That’s why Daddy and I were so thrilled when she took up with Alexander. He calmed her down. He was a positive influence. Virginia didn’t think he was good enough for her, obviously, but my father adored him from the start. And Jamie came along and it was all perfect!’
I smiled as best I could.
Claudia put the other half-biscuit into her mouth.
We were both quiet for a few moments. Then Claudia said: ‘I always seem to end up talking about Genevieve. It’s a beautiful day. We won’t have many more like it this year. Why don’t we go and drink our tea outside?’
We sat on a blanket on the overgrown lawn in the front garden, Claudia and I. I sipped tea and breathed in her secondhand cigarette smoke while the children played and bees fed on the lavender stems and the songbirds gorged on blackberries. Claudia chatted about village life, and what it was like growing up in Eleonora House, the calendar governed by horse shows, trials and competitions and social events: balls, charity dinner dances, birthday parties. It was a different world from the one I’d known and I enjoyed hearing her stories, although I did not envy her. It wasn’t only that I felt sorry for her and her brother. I imagined that it must have been difficult growing up in a family where everything was so managed and organized. There could have been very little room for rebellion. No wonder Genevieve felt suffocated. I rubbed the inside of the old dog’s ear with my knuckle and she groaned with pleasure.
Later, when Claudia had left with the twins and the dogs, and Jamie was inside the house watching television, I pickedthe mugs up and emptied the dregs over the wall that separated the garden from the orchard beyond. I disturbed a crow. It flapped away lazily with blood on its beak. I looked down over the wall. The crow had left behind a small, silvery-brown mess of blood, fur and jaw: the remains of a squirrel. Its skull had been smashed into fragments.
The crow could not have done that. The sleeve of my cardigan caught on the top of the wall, and as I pulled away I looked down.
I wished I had not.
On top of the wall was a smear of blood, and caught in the roughness of the grain of the stone was a circle of silvery hairs and one tiny shard of bone. Leaning up against it was a wooden-handled mallet with a metal head.
I dropped the mugs and backed away.
Alexander had killed the squirrel.
There was no other explanation.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE SQUIRREL-KILLER BREEZED in later smelling of a dry, scorched substance that I came to recognize as stone-dust, and of sweat. He had shrugged off the top half of his overalls and tied the arms around the waist. He went straight to the sink and washed his hands, then he turned to smile at me. I was sorting out the laundry I’d washed earlier.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Something smells good.’
‘Lasagne.’
‘You don’t know how great it is to come in to the smell of home cooking!’
‘It’s nothing special,’ I said.
He glanced at me. I did not let him see my face.
‘How was your first day in service?’
I smoothed the towel I was folding.
‘Fine.’
‘Any trouble from Her Ladyship?’
‘Virginia? No. But Claudia stayed for a while when she dropped Jamie off. She’s lovely.’
‘Yep. She is.’
‘She told me a bit about her family.’
‘Did she mention Damian howling at the moon?’
‘Damian?’
‘Her brother.’
‘Oh … No, she said … well, nothing really. She told me how much she and her father like
‘But she’s never gone away like this before. Well, once … She went off the rails for a while when she was at university,but that’s not unusual, is it? Virginia was always so protective, it was no surprise that Genevieve kicked her heels up when she had the chance.’
I nodded.
‘That’s why Daddy and I were so thrilled when she took up with Alexander. He calmed her down. He was a positive influence. Virginia didn’t think he was good enough for her, obviously, but my father adored him from the start. And Jamie came along and it was all perfect!’
I smiled as best I could.
Claudia put the other half-biscuit into her mouth.
We were both quiet for a few moments. Then Claudia said: ‘I always seem to end up talking about Genevieve. It’s a beautiful day. We won’t have many more like it this year. Why don’t we go and drink our tea outside?’
We sat on a blanket on the overgrown lawn in the front garden, Claudia and I. I sipped tea and breathed in her secondhand cigarette smoke while the children played and bees fed on the lavender stems and the songbirds gorged on blackberries. Claudia chatted about village life, and what it was like growing up in Eleonora House, the calendar governed by horse shows, trials and competitions and social events: balls, charity dinner dances, birthday parties. It was a different world from the one I’d known and I enjoyed hearing her stories, although I did not envy her. It wasn’t only that I felt sorry for her and her brother. I imagined that it must have been difficult growing up in a family where everything was so managed and organized. There could have been very little room for rebellion. No wonder Genevieve felt suffocated. I rubbed the inside of the old dog’s ear with my knuckle and she groaned with pleasure.
Later, when Claudia had left with the twins and the dogs, and Jamie was inside the house watching television, I pickedthe mugs up and emptied the dregs over the wall that separated the garden from the orchard beyond. I disturbed a crow. It flapped away lazily with blood on its beak. I looked down over the wall. The crow had left behind a small, silvery-brown mess of blood, fur and jaw: the remains of a squirrel. Its skull had been smashed into fragments.
The crow could not have done that. The sleeve of my cardigan caught on the top of the wall, and as I pulled away I looked down.
I wished I had not.
On top of the wall was a smear of blood, and caught in the roughness of the grain of the stone was a circle of silvery hairs and one tiny shard of bone. Leaning up against it was a wooden-handled mallet with a metal head.
I dropped the mugs and backed away.
Alexander had killed the squirrel.
There was no other explanation.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE SQUIRREL-KILLER BREEZED in later smelling of a dry, scorched substance that I came to recognize as stone-dust, and of sweat. He had shrugged off the top half of his overalls and tied the arms around the waist. He went straight to the sink and washed his hands, then he turned to smile at me. I was sorting out the laundry I’d washed earlier.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Something smells good.’
‘Lasagne.’
‘You don’t know how great it is to come in to the smell of home cooking!’
‘It’s nothing special,’ I said.
He glanced at me. I did not let him see my face.
‘How was your first day in service?’
I smoothed the towel I was folding.
‘Fine.’
‘Any trouble from Her Ladyship?’
‘Virginia? No. But Claudia stayed for a while when she dropped Jamie off. She’s lovely.’
‘Yep. She is.’
‘She told me a bit about her family.’
‘Did she mention Damian howling at the moon?’
‘Damian?’
‘Her brother.’
‘Oh … No, she said … well, nothing really. She told me how much she and her father like
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