Nazleen nods, as if trying to convince herself. “Or maybe she just thought the house was too spooky . . .”
Sadie gives her a sharp look. “Or she realized she had a lower-grade bedroom than the rest of us.”
Nazleen looks surprised. “Does she? That’s nothing to do with me.”
Footsteps thump up the stairs, and Zach appears. He looks hopefully at Sadie.
“Any sign?”
Sadie shakes her head. “Mrs. Shrew thinks she might have walked into the village.”
Zach raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? That’s a good half-hour walk.”
“Look—why don’t you check the rooms up at that end?” Sadie indicates the fire-damaged end of the corridor with a twinge of guilt. “And, Nazleen, you check the rest of the rooms at this end. And I’ll go and look in the—er.” She frowns at the end door. “In the tower. And then we’ll meet downstairs in the hall if we don’t find anything.”
“Okay.” Zach’s already turning away. Nazleen opens the door to Sadie’s room, calling Genevieve’s name. Sadie hurries to the end of the corridor, and this time she heads straight up the spiral staircase before she can change her mind.
Beth
December 1989
Caroline’s Christmas visit fell early in December, because she was much too busy to fit me in later in the month. I’d bought her a silk scarf from my allowance, and she gave me some sheet music for my violin that she told me she enjoyed playing herself. I almost asked her if it was a joint Christmas and early birthday present, since she’d missed my birthday entirely the previous February, but I knew that would be rude, and in fact, the music was perfect—a genuinely welcome gift from one violinist to another. But when I went to give her a grateful hug, she flinched away, as usual.
After fifteen minutes of stilted conversation in the drawing room, Markus suggested Caroline might like a little walk by the lake before she headed home. Caroline looked so relieved at the word home, she sprang up immediately, and Markus winked at the rest of us behind her back.
“Leonora might be best staying indoors, actually,” he said. “She’s brewing up a bit of a cold, I think.”
Leonora gave him a faint relieved smile, and we left her behind, although I didn’t really believe she was coming down with anything. Once we reached the lakeshore, Markus told Nina and me to go ahead and take the boat out, if we were brave enough.
“The lake’ll freeze soon, with a bit of luck,” he said, “and then there won’t be any rowing ’til it thaws.”
Relieved to have an excuse to escape Caroline’s strained attempts at friendliness, I followed Nina onto the dock, and we leaped down into the boat. Nina grinned at me as she took the oars, and I was reminded forcefully of the fun we’d had during my first summer at Raven Hall. I smiled back at her, and suddenly the day seemed a whole lot brighter.
Nina waited until we were past the island before she set the oars down.
“So, what’s going on between you and Jonas?”
“Nothing.” I knew I’d answered too quickly. “I mean, why do you even ask? You know Jonas and I are just—”
She tilted her head. “Friends?”
I nodded, frowning. “Friends. Exactly.”
“I wish . . .”
“What?”
“I just wish you’d be honest with me, Beth. I wish you’d tell me what you’re thinking. You go around all wrapped up in your own thoughts all the time. It’s like sometimes you think”—she hesitated, gazing at me earnestly—“that I’m your enemy. Like you don’t trust me. Or Mum and Dad either.”
“That’s not true.” I tried to laugh. “Of course I trust you.” But a series of memories pulsed in my mind: Leonora thrusting the blue checked dress into my hands; Markus’s wary expression when he came back from his diving trip a few weeks ago; the oily film at the bottom of Nina’s hot-chocolate mug. I blinked them away. “You know I’m very happy here.”
“Are you?” Nina said quietly. “Are you really?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Ah, come on, can we stop this now? I just want us to be friends. All of us. Jonas too.”
She scrambled forward and indicated for me to switch places. “Fine. Your turn to row, then.”
I seized the oars, glad of the opportunity to use my muscles. I took us on a circuit around the island, and it was a while before I looked across to the dock and saw that Markus and Caroline had left us to it. By the time Nina and I returned to the house, Caroline had already set off for home.
* * *
* * *
Markus was right about two things. Leonora was coming down with something. She spent days locked away in her bedroom until she felt well enough to rejoin us downstairs, and even then, she remained pale and withdrawn. And the lake did freeze over the following week.
Markus announced he was taking the rest of the month off as holiday. He checked the ice obsessively each morning, drilling boreholes, checking air and water temperatures, and goodness knows what else. His excitement radiated through the house.
“We’ve been getting fewer and fewer properly cold winters,” he told me. “Last year was terrible, but this year”—he beamed at me—“with a bit of luck, we’ll be out there on our skates before New Year’s Eve. You’ll love it, Beth. A proper Fenland tradition. And you’re a proper Fens girl now, aren’t you?”
I laughed, slightly unsettled by the intensity of his gaze. “I suppose so.”
“You can come out with me tomorrow,” he said, “if you like. I’ll show you how I check the ice depth . . .”
“Oh, leave the poor child alone,” Leonora said from the doorway. “Beth, Jonas is on the phone for you.”
I was relieved to escape to the hall, and I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Beth? It’s Jonas.”
I smiled. “I know.”
“Have you got plans for Christmas Eve? ’Cause my mum’s having a little party here, and I wondered . . .”
“What does he want?” Nina’s voice from the staircase was sharp. I turned to look at her. She held my gaze.
“Nina’s here too,” I said into the mouthpiece.
“Well,” Jonas said, “she’s invited, too, of course.”
I tilted the phone away slightly. “Jonas’s mum is having a little party on Christmas Eve. He wants to know if we’d like to go.”