‘Don’t you fret, Emilia. Actually, I went down there an hour ago, and apart from a couple of tiles that have lifted, there’s no damage that I can see,’ Matt said.
‘Ah, such a relief! It is such an exposed spot, but at least there are no tall trees near the house.’
‘I’ll take a closer look later this morning, but I’m sure your cottage is fine. They knew how to build in those days.’
‘I’m sure you’re right. It isn’t the first gale to hit Whisper Fen, and it certainly won’t be the last.’ She paused. ‘There were no other, er, other problems, then?’
‘Nothing, Emilia. Not recently. So, apart from a sleepless night, how are you keeping?’
‘Oh, you know. It’s difficult to settle, even though I am enjoying Lena’s company. Part of me wants to get home, and another part never wants to set foot on the marsh again.’
‘If I were you, I’d stay with your friend for a bit longer. Let the police catch the person who’s been persecuting you, then come home and see how you feel about things. They will get them, you know.’
‘Well, Matt, you have more faith than me. They seem to come and go like the will-o’-the-wisp, sliding in like a strand of marsh mist, committing their atrocities and vanishing as if they never existed.’
‘Well, he certainly has more substance than mist, I can tell you. He had no trouble flooring me.’ Matt laughed.
There was a few seconds’ silence, then she said, ‘Oh dear, that was thoughtless of me. I am so very sorry. I feel so guilty! How is your poor head now?’
‘Like my darling Liz said, I’m lucky it’s so hard. But, look, don’t feel bad about it. Given the opportunity, I’d have another go at the bast— Sorry, Emilia, but I’d dearly love to meet him again. Preferably in daylight this time.’
‘You know how much I appreciate your looking after the cottage, Matt, but please, please do not expose yourself or Liz to any danger. And I will certainly not even consider returning home until the police come up with some answers for me. And if they don’t . . .’
‘Between us and the police, we’ll find answers, Emilia. Meanwhile, stay put and we’ll keep you updated.’ Matt hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
‘Thank you, Matt, thank you so much.’
He hung up and went to find Liz. She had abandoned her idea of watching the village store in favour of sorting out some of the damage to the garden. She was already roaming about, gathering broken branches and sweeping up shattered flowerpots.
She smiled at him. ‘Could have been worse. No major damage, except that a small section of fencing has blown down. Nothing that can’t be fixed.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Have we heard from Will yet?’
He shook his head. ‘No. That was Emilia, and I’ve put her mind at rest about Little Anchor.’ He gave her a worried glance. ‘I wanted to drop in at Holland House after I checked the cottage, but I wasn’t sure if I should.’
‘Was there much damage down on the marsh?’ Liz asked.
‘Worse than here, for sure. I could be wrong, but I think Will has a tree down.’ Matt paused. ‘Maybe I’ll go make us a cuppa, and then give him a ring.’
* * *
Will had woken at around six to an uncanny stillness. The storm had blown itself out during the night and the fen was silent. Not even a bird sang.
After a quick shower he went down to the kitchen and made tea. He knew he should eat but his stomach was in knots. He was worried about Kate and the fact that she was now sleepwalking. Above all, he was terrified of her reaction to the fallen rowan tree. He lifted the house phone receiver, but the line was dead. He sighed. Well, he had his mobile.
He had checked the garden, in the mad hope that the previous night’s damage had all been a bad dream. Sadly, it looked even worse in daylight.
He left it until around eight before going back upstairs to check on Kate. In the bedroom, he again stood at the window, desperately trying to work out what to do next.
‘Will?’
He started.
‘What time is it?’
‘Hello, babe. It’s getting on for nine o’clock.’
‘Nine?’
‘In the morning.’
‘Oh.’ She swallowed, her gaze wandering around the darkened room. ‘What day is it?’
‘Sunday. Don’t worry, sweetheart, the sleep will have done you good.’
‘Sunday?’ She sounded bewildered.
‘It’s alright, you needed the rest. I’ll go and make you some tea, then when you’re ready I’ll run you a bath, okay?’
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat for a few moments as if still confused. ‘I’ll run the bath. You get the drink. My mouth feels awful.’ She sounded groggy and swayed slightly but made her way slowly to the bathroom.
Back in the kitchen, Will heard the sound of running water and the toilet flushing. He decided to tell her about the rowan tree and the air-raid shelter as soon as he got back upstairs. She would see the devastation soon enough, so he might as well warn her. He mounted the stairs with a heavy tread.
He stood her mug on the side of the bath and began to sponge her back. He was pleased to see that Kate had washed her hair. She looked tired, painfully thin, but still beautiful.
‘You missed one heck of a storm,’ he began tentatively.
She peered at him shortsightedly. ‘When?’
‘Late yesterday afternoon and into the evening. I don’t think it calmed down until the early hours.’ He hesitated. ‘It did a lot of damage, Kate. I’m going to ring Barry and get him to help me clear up. Er, sadly the rowan has come down — and the phone lines too.’
She stiffened.
‘I’ll call Barry as soon as I can. Maybe he can get here soon, then we can sort everything out. I haven’t checked everywhere yet, but I can’t see any structural damage, thank heavens. And I ought to check on Mrs Swain’s place.’ He chattered on, conscious of how ridiculous he sounded.
In stony silence, Kate sipped her tea, staring down into the foamy bathwater.
‘Can I have my towel, please?’ she asked.
Her tone was flat, harsh. She stood up, and he draped the towel around her shoulders, but she snatched it from him and began to briskly rub herself down. She stepped from the bath and pushed past him into the bedroom.
With the towel around her, Kate went and stood at the window. Watching from the doorway, Will saw a kaleidoscope of different expressions travel across her face. Horror, succeeded by sorrow, quickly followed by anger, disbelief, and then she turned and faced him.
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ Her tone was accusing.
‘I . . . I couldn’t.’
‘What do you mean you couldn’t? You should have woken me.’
He shrugged helplessly.
Her shoulders began to shake. Great tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘This is awful. Just awful.’
‘I know, darling.’ He went over and put his arm around her. ‘I’m really sorry. I know how much that tree meant to you.’
She stepped away from him. ‘You haven’t the slightest conception of what it meant. You simply don’t understand.’
She was shutting him out again. For hours he had been worrying about how she would feel when she saw the tree, all for nothing.