The Darkest Hour

Lucy held her breath, staring at her in horror, intensely aware of the silence around them.

‘I hear her crying,’ Elizabeth went on almost under her breath. ‘I tell myself it’s the wind in the chimneys, perhaps an owl screaming into the night, but it isn’t. It’s Rachel. I sometimes think I can’t bear it.’ She gave a small wistful smile. ‘I’m sorry, my dear. You must think I’m ga-ga.’

‘How do you know it’s Rachel?’ Lucy asked at last. Her voice was husky.

‘I just know.’ It was a whisper. She shuddered. ‘Let’s go downstairs. Do you mind? I’ll make us some tea. Then you must see the outbuildings.’ Suddenly her voice was stronger. ‘They were all farm buildings in Evie’s day and I think you’ll see they have probably changed much less than the house has. In fact I doubt if they have changed in hundreds of years. The land itself is all owned by a huge company now. There is a farm manager who lives on an estate the other side of Chichester.’

Lucy followed Elizabeth down the two flights of stairs back into the kitchen. While they waited for the kettle to boil on the Aga Elizabeth disappeared into the old-style walk-in pantry to find some biscuits and Lucy stared round the room. With part of herself she was listening, afraid she was going to hear Rachel’s cries.

The kitchen was immaculately tidy. There had only been one car outside, a smart new Mini. It was obvious that Elizabeth’s husband must be away on one of his trips. The woman was living alone in the house with nothing but the ghosts of the past for company.

She looked up as her hostess put the plate of biscuits in front of her. ‘Do people in the village remember the Lucases?’ she asked, trying to change the mood.

Elizabeth shook her head. ‘I doubt it. I don’t know. To be honest we don’t mix with the village much any more.’ She reached down the teapot from a shelf and set it on the hotplate to warm.

‘But your family come down to see you?’ As soon as she had said it Lucy regretted it. She had already guessed what the answer would be

‘They used to. All the time. But they have other calls on their time now. The children have grown out of the countryside. They want to go abroad or spend the holidays with their friends. You know how it is.’ Elizabeth helped herself to a biscuit and broke it in half, scattering crumbs on the pine table before putting it down without tasting it. She didn’t seem to notice. ‘There was a time when I could have offered you a homemade biscuit. Not any more. It’s not worth making them just for me. I bake when there is something on in the village of course. I do my bit, but even that has been taken over now by young families. The mothers are very energetic, very bossy,’ she laughed quietly. ‘They like to do things their way.’

Lucy’s heart went out to her.

Behind them the kettle began to whistle. Elizabeth stood up abruptly and went over to the Aga. She made the tea and came back to the table. ‘There you are, my dear. I am so sorry; you must think I am pathetic. Drink that, and then we’ll go outside. I love my garden. It’s mine. Out there I have no sense of Rachel at all. Out there I feel as if I still have a use in the world. I’ll show you.’

Rachel. Once more she was talking about Rachel. Only in the studio was there an echo of Evie left behind.