‘What was that I heard you and Edmund talking about before we left the hospital? It sounded like something to do with Hope’s brother being responsible for running her over.’
She told him in more detail what Edmund had shared with her. ‘To anybody who doesn’t know Arthur,’ she said, ‘it doesn’t seem possible, but Kit and Hope could tell you many a tale of his sadistic and bullying nature when they were growing up.’
‘Nice guy. I look forward to meeting him.’
‘Careful what you wish for. I suspect he treats his poor wife, Julia, abominably.’
‘Physically?’
‘I sincerely hope not. I think he prefers mental cruelty as a means to control her. He makes all the decisions for her, such as what she should wear and with whom she can socialise. She effectively lives in a gilded cage at Melstead Hall.’
‘It might sound like a crazy question, but does she love him?’
‘Perhaps. She comes from a very different background, so I would imagine it’s the type of love that’s based on gratitude.’
‘You mean she’s from what you Brits consider an inferior class, so that gives him carte blanche to treat her like a dog, and she should be thankful?’
‘I for one have never considered Julia my social inferior.’
‘Have you never tried to intervene?’
‘I’ve tried numerous times to talk to her, but she’s so firmly under Arthur’s thumb, she wouldn’t ever be disloyal to him. Which is why it makes no sense that she would visit Hope and tell her that Arthur had run her over.’
‘Unless the worm has turned, and she’s had enough?’
‘There is that,’ said Romily thoughtfully.
She drove on in silence, and then when a strong gust of wind buffeted the Land Rover, she saw something moving in the falling snow ahead of them. At first she couldn’t make out what it was, then as she slowed her speed to a crawling pace, Red, said, ‘Hey, is that somebody in the road?’
‘More than one person,’ she said, as the light from the headlamps revealed three figures, one of which was a lot smaller than the other two.
‘They’re waving to us,’ Red said. ‘Must mean they’re in trouble. That’s a kid with them, isn’t it?’
It was only when Romily drew the Land Rover to a stop, the tyres biting into the snow and ice with a series of shuddering jerks, that Romily recognised who it was. ‘You stay here,’ she said to Red, pressing her shoulder to the door and shoving it open.
‘The hell I will!’ he replied, doing the same on his side.
The cold, stinging wind slapped her in the face when Romily stepped down from the Land Rover. ‘If you’re trying to get to Melstead Hall,’ she told the group, ‘you’re going in the wrong direction.’ She pointed back the way she had just driven. ‘Hop in and I’ll give you a lift.’
‘No!’ shouted Charles. He was clinging to his mother and even as the wind roared and sent the snow swirling around them, Romily caught the defiance in his young voice. ‘We’re running away,’ he said, and not without a degree of pride.
‘You’ve chosen a hell of a day for it, kiddo,’ quipped Red.
‘What’s going on?’ It was Kit and Evelyn, peering out from the back of the Land Rover.
‘We’ve found some waifs and strays,’ Romily shouted to them.
Ralph spoke next. ‘Romily, I know this is an imposition, but we were hoping you might take us in for the night.’
‘There’s no reason why you should say yes,’ said Julia. ‘No reason at all.’ She made a pitiful sight, shivering with cold and close to tears.
‘Please don’t say no,’ implored Charles, ‘we don’t have anywhere else to go. And it is Christmas.’
‘I don’t know who this boy is,’ Red said with a smile, ‘but he pleads a damned good case.’
Romily had no intention of leaving anyone stranded in the snow. ‘Of course you can come to Island House,’ she said. ‘Now for heaven’s sake, get into the Land Rover before we all die of hypothermia. Ralph, you sit in the front with Red and me, and Charles, you help your mother into the back and sit with your Uncle Kit and Auntie Evelyn.’
‘You promise you won’t take us back to father?’ he asked with a heart-breakingly earnest expression on his young face.
‘I promise,’ she said firmly. ‘And I never break a promise.’
Once everyone was seated and they were on their way again, and Romily had introduced Red, she asked Ralph to explain what was going on.
‘It’s Dad,’ he said, wiping the melting snow from his flushed face. ‘He’s been treating Julia atrociously. I couldn’t let him carry on the way he was. Not when he might then start on Charles. Romily, I know you and the rest of the family have never thought much of me, that I was too much of a chip off the old block, but . . . well, let’s just say I’ve changed. For once in my life I wanted to do the right thing.’
‘Does Arthur know what you’ve done?’
‘He was drunk and raving like a lunatic when we slipped out. At some point he’s going to realise Julia and Charles have gone.’
‘Why escape on foot?’ asked Red. ‘A car would have got you away faster and that much further.’
‘We set off in my Roadster with the intention of driving to Island House, but we ended up having to abandon it after we skidded off the road. But never mind that, there’s something really important you need to know. About Hope.’
‘I’ve a feeling I know what you’re going to say,’ responded Romily. ‘You see, we’ve just come from the hospital. Hope is now fully conscious and says that Julia visited and told her that it was Arthur who ran her over.’
‘It’s true,’ Ralph said. ‘Julia’s told me exactly what happened.’
‘So that’s how the worm turned,’ Red said quietly when Ralph had shared with them what he knew.
‘And that’s not all,’ Ralph said. ‘We found evidence in Miss Casey’s room that she’s been sending Julia poison pen letters.’
‘Miss Casey!’ exclaimed Romily. ‘You mean she’s the one who’s been behind these vile letters?’
‘You knew that Julia had received them?’ asked Ralph.
‘No,’ she said, trying to keep her eyes fixed on the road while shifting down a gear to negotiate a bend. ‘But both of your aunts have had letters, as has Florence. And heaven only knows who else.’