He kicked absentmindedly at a dandelion head. He would be crossing the Atlantic, far away from Kate. Part of him was relieved. Perhaps, at some distance from her, he would be able to see their problems from a new perspective. Mostly, however, he was full of trepidation.
His gaze moved to Holland House, standing alone on the edge of the marsh. From this far away, the big old house looked like a dream come true. Only the foundations were unstable, and nightmare creatures resided in the studio.
He waited for a while, not wishing to return to what had become a place of dread. Some wading bird watched him suspiciously from a reed bed, and he noted the statuesque figure of a grey heron surveying him from the muddy mouth of an inlet.
‘Stupid birds. It’s not me you should be wary of, it’s this bloody place,’ he muttered. ‘Go and fish elsewhere, somewhere healthy!’
Acquiescing, the great bird rose majestically, its enormous wings beating soundlessly in the morning mist. With a single cry, it turned and flew inland, away from Holland House.
As Will, too, would be flying. But what would he find on his return?
CHAPTER NINE
Will left it until the Monday morning to tell Kate that Matt would be accompanying him to Canada. He said it had been a last-minute offer. Kate had little to say about it, appearing far more interested in all the jobs she had lined up for herself in his absence. As the time for his departure grew closer her moods were swinging like an out-of-control pendulum.
It was weird. One minute she was her old loving self, telling him she would miss him terribly, and the next she was nagging him to get everything ready for all the jobs she was determined to do. Instead of calmly preparing for his sister’s funeral, Will found himself moving heavy furniture into the centre of the lounge so that she could begin decorating, sweeping the chimney and carrying unwanted items up into the loft.
By Tuesday morning, he was exhausted, while Kate seemed full of energy. Will realised that while he was distraught at their enforced separation, Kate was actually relishing the prospect.
At last the car the RCAF had sent for him was winding its way up the marsh lane, and Kate was crying and clinging to him like a child. Will experienced a moment of sheer panic. He shouldn’t be leaving his wife. He could do nothing for his sister, he certainly couldn’t bring her back, so why hadn’t he remained where he was needed, with the living?
But it was too late now. He kissed her gently, told her he would be back soon and would phone often.
As the car moved off down the lane, he looked back. Kate was standing in the porch, outlined by trailing leaves of clematis and a few late roses. She seemed to be part of the building itself — the pale spirit of Holland House.
By the time they reached the end of the lane, he found he was crying.
They collected Matt. As he and Liz said goodbye to each other, Will couldn’t help comparing this farewell with his and Kate’s. They were so close, so unreservedly in love. Will felt a pang of envy.
With a young officer called Mitch as their escort, they soon arrived at the airstrip and the military plane took off. As the wheels retracted, Will’s fear of what might happen to Kate almost overwhelmed him, but Matt turned the conversation to practical matters. He questioned Mitch about the plane, while Will tried hard to follow their conversation.
Mitch described the CC-150 high-speed jet they were travelling in, and told them about Moose Jaw being home to the Snowbirds aerobatics team and also the NATO Flying Training Programme that Guy Hogan had been attached to. While he talked, a young man approached carrying three trays laden with a delicious-looking supper.
They passed the rest of the journey eating, drinking and dozing. Will found that the further he got from Whisper Fen, the clearer his mind became.
He slept again, waking to find Mitch gently patting his arm. ‘Welcome to Canada, gentlemen.’ It was a long way to travel merely to say goodbye.
* * *
The hotel was comfortable and functional, typical of those bland conference hotels that specialised in short stays for business travellers. Will and Matt had been given rooms next door to each other.
The first thing Will did was to ring Kate. With the time difference, it was seven in the morning on Whisper Fen.
Her sleepy voice soothed his worries instantly. ‘Bear! You’re safe?’
‘I’m safe, sweetheart. We’re being treated like royalty. How are you? What was your first night like?’
‘Apart from worrying about you, fine. I worked until quite late . . .’
He drew a breath, immediately thinking of her recent artwork, but she went on, alleviating his concerns.
‘. . . not painting, though. I’ve started on the lounge. I thought something physical would occupy my mind better, stop me thinking about my husband, high up in the night sky over the Atlantic. I was stripping wallpaper until two in the morning!’
‘Hey, you! Don’t go overdoing it! I’ll be back before you know it, and I’ll help you.’
‘I know, Will, but it’s good for me, therapeutic and all that.’
‘Okay, but get some rest as well.’
They talked for a while, until he said he was going to try to sleep. There was little to do as it was the middle of the night there, and might as well try to acclimatise himself to local time. They had their mobiles, but knowing the intermittent signal on the fens, and Kate’s propensity for forgetting where she left hers and forgetting to charge it, he gave her his room number and the hotel telephone number for emergencies, and promised to phone her again before she settled down for the night. He reminded her to ring Liz if she felt at all worried about anything, but she just laughed at him.
‘Stop being an old woman, Will! I love Holland House.’ There was a pause. ‘And the house loves me.’ She blew him a kiss down the line and told him to take care.
He whispered that he loved her, but she had hung up or been cut off.
He prepared for bed, frowning. The house loves me. She had not finished her call with her usual, ‘Love you, Bear.’
Will told himself he was becoming paranoid. She had blown him a kiss and told him to be careful, what more did he want? He rearranged his pillows and tried to get comfortable.
He missed Kate so much. She was his world, his life, more so now that Eva had gone. All he had left was Kate — and little Sophie, of course.
Without warning he was suddenly overwhelmed by grief for his sister. The realisation that she would never again walk into a room wearing one of her brilliant dresses, and turn heads all evening, was just too much to bear. The world had lost a bright light, and it was a duller place now for her passing.
Will cried into his pillow. Memories of a happy childhood came to him, one after the other, and still the tears fell.
After a while he rallied, and he realised that all these raw emotions had been held back, suffocated by his constant, twenty-four-hour worrying over Kate. Now that he was away from her, he was free to grieve.
He undressed and climbed into bed, fully expecting not to sleep a wink, but instead, he drifted off almost immediately, surrounded by images of Guy and Eva’s little daughter, Sophie.
* * *
Matt talked to Liz for ages, loath to hang up despite the cost of the call. They had been together from the moment he retired, and he felt as if he had lost a limb suddenly.
‘I feel like I’m making up for lost time, don’t you, Mattie?’ Liz asked. ‘We came rather late to the party and I don’t want to miss one minute with you.’