‘For such innocent-looking birds, they’re exceptionally aggressive,’ Annelise said, pouring their coffee.
‘That’s what comes of having a fiercely territorial nature.’
‘I wonder if that’s what Uncle Arthur would claim excuses his vile behaviour, that he was merely being territorial.’
Hope lowered the binoculars and put them on the floor at her feet. She took the coffee cup Annelise held out to her. ‘Nothing can excuse that dreadful man’s behaviour. And I know it’s not a charitable thing to say, but I don’t possess a scrap of sympathy for him and what he’s now going through.’
Annelise sat in the chair next to Hope. ‘Nobody would criticise you for saying that, Mums. Not when we all think the same.’
The words divine retribution and reaping what one sows had been said many times since they had heard of the massive stroke Arthur had suffered on Boxing Day. Annelise and Edmund had been at the hospital with Hope, having stayed the night by her side, when Arthur had been brought in by ambulance accompanied by Miss Casey. It had taken the ambulance an hour to reach Melstead Hall, followed by another hour to the hospital. Of course, at this stage they didn’t know about Ralph helping Julia and Charles to leave, and the reasons why. That came later. But what they did know was that Arthur was responsible for nearly killing Hope.
Were it not for him now being unable to move and barely able to speak, and not likely to live for much longer, Edmund would have had no qualms about informing the police so Arthur could be brought to justice for what he’d done. But justice, Hope maintained, had been served without any intervention on their part. She also didn’t want it being publicly known that her own brother could behave so cold-bloodedly.
Julia had since moved back to the Hall with Charles and Ralph. Miss Casey had been given her marching orders and reported to the police for sending anonymous letters. Isabella’s fiancé, Max, had subsequently surprised them all by unearthing a mine of information about Miss Casey’s past.
It turned out she wasn’t who she purported to be. Her real name was Bernice Reynolds and six years ago she had spent time in prison for conning the life savings out of an old lady for whom she worked.
A compulsive and scheming liar, this was not the first time she had been caught sending anonymous letters. The recipients, so Max had discovered, were usually married women. She targeted them for no other reason than she got a kick out of causing trouble between couples, of shattering their happiness. A psychologist might well say she was inherently jealous of any woman who had more than she did. Romily’s theory that the letters were nothing but random shots fired in the dark was found to be spot on. It was awful to think of the harm and heartache the ghastly woman had so wilfully caused.
‘Have you thought any more about our going away together?’ asked Hope, breaking into Annelise’s thoughts.
‘I’ve thought about it frequently,’ said Annelise. ‘I’m worried about Edmund leaving the surgery in the hands of a locum for so long, but mostly I’m concerned that it would be too much for you, Mums.’
Hope tugged at the woollen blanket that had slipped off her lap. ‘Whatever effort it takes, it will be worth it to escape the misery of this weather. I was thinking we could perhaps start our trip in Cairo, spend a few leisurely weeks there before cruising along the Nile. Edmund has always wanted to do that. And just think how blessedly warm it would be. From Egypt we could then take a cruise around the Aegean.’
Annelise smiled. ‘Edmund’s been on at you for years to take a proper holiday, and now here you are planning a Grand Tour.’
Hope smiled too. ‘Don’t you dare tell him I said this, but he may have been right that I have focused on work too much. Lying in that wretched hospital bed, once I was fully compos mentis, and sitting here every day, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on what’s important in life. And it’s family. Everything else is just frippery. Who will care in fifty years how many books I’ve churned out, or what riches I’ve accumulated?’
‘But you can’t dismiss the incredible pleasure you’ve given to the many children around the world who adore the books you’ve written for them. You could say they’re your family too.’
‘You sound just like my publishers,’ Hope said with a dismissive tut. ‘But I think the time has come for me to reconsider my priorities. So how about the three of us going to Egypt and then working our way round the Mediterranean and then maybe hiring a villa by the sea on the French Riviera? Or what about Switzerland? You could have the baby there quite anonymously.’
As good as it was to hear Hope talking about working less and enjoying life more, Annelise couldn’t stop herself from saying, ‘Then what? When I’ve had the baby, what happens next?’
‘By then you will have decided what you want to do, and whatever decision you reach, Edmund and I will support you. Is there any more coffee?’ She held out her cup.
The matter-of-fact way Hope spoke was so far removed from what Annelise had ever believed possible, it was difficult to take in. Was it the medication she was prescribed that made Hope so calm, or was this new Hope the result of having faced death head on and won?
‘Has Edmund said anything to you about his idea?’ asked Annelise.
‘Yes,’ replied Hope, taking the coffee cup she had just refilled. ‘He put it to me earlier before he left for the surgery.’
‘And?’
‘I’m amazed it took him this long to come up with it.’
‘You’re not surprised by his suggestion?’
‘I would have been more surprised if Edmund hadn’t suggested what he has. You know how fond of children he is.’
‘But what about you? How do feel about having a baby here?’ Annelise chose her next words with care. ‘You’re not really overly fond of children, are you? You like them as a concept, but not as a reality.’
‘How very succinctly you put it. But it’s knowing that I failed you when you were a young child that makes me want to do better for you now. To help you all I can. Who knows, maybe I’ll make a better grandmother than a mother?’
With a surge of emotion bubbling up inside her, Annelise had to put down her cup of coffee. ‘Oh, Mums, please don’t think you failed me, you didn’t. Not once have I ever thought that. I just accepted the way you were. God knows it’s what my child will have to do with me, because I’m never going to be perfect.’
Hope leaned over and patted her arm. ‘Nobody is. But you won’t be alone in the challenges you’ll face; you’ll have plenty of help.’
‘Edmund seems to have everything worked out,’ said Annelise, ‘is that how you see it?’
‘You and I both know Edmund has a much more positive way of looking at things than I do. But in theory I can see his suggestion working very well. He and I, with the help of a nanny of your choosing, will look after the child here while you continue your work at St Gertrude’s and visit as often as possible.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘You can’t imagine how absurdly excited Edmund is at the prospect of being a grandfather. It’s most unseemly.’