Barbara Erskine 3-Book Collection: Lady of Hay, Time’s Legacy, Sands of Time

Bet smiled. ‘He overreacts. It would make a better article, you must admit, if Jo could say it had happened to her. I have a feeling it could be a tremendous story when she gets round to it. Jo is nothing if not honest. If something strange happens to her she’ll write about it.’

‘Even if it’s published posthumously?’ Tim swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. ‘My God, Bet! I thought you were Jo’s friend! Would you really want something awful to happen to her just to make a good story?’ He reached for his trousers and pulled them on. ‘Bloody hell!’

Bet laughed. ‘Don’t be so dramatic. I want some action. I want to see Jo up against something she can’t debunk, just for once. I want to see how she handles an article which really stirs her up. It’ll do her good. I suspect Nick resents her success. He’s jealous of her independence. That’s why they split up, so a plea from him to call off the article comes over to me as very suspicious. She doesn’t need his help – or his hindrance. Oh yes, I am her friend, sweetie, probably her best friend.’

‘Then God help her.’ Tim tugged open a drawer and pulled out a black cashmere sweater, drawing it down awkwardly over his head. ‘With you and Judy Curzon for friends who else does she need!’

‘Well there’s always you, isn’t there?’ Bet took another sip from her coffee. ‘You wouldn’t be entertaining me so enthusiastically if you thought you could lay your sticky little hands on our Jo, would you, my love?’

Tim flushed a dusky red as he turned away. ‘Crap. Jo’s never had eyes for anyone but Nick since I’ve known her.’ He stared into the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair.

‘More fool her then, because Nick is playing the field. Where are you going?’

‘Sunday or not, I have work to do. Are you going to cook me lunch?’

Bet stretched, snuggling back under the covers. ‘Why not? Who were you in your previous life, Tim, do you know?’

Tim turned and looked down at her. ‘Funnily enough I think I do.’

Bet’s eyes grew round. ‘You are joking?’

‘No.’

‘Well?’ She sat up, the sheet pulled up tightly round her breasts. ‘Who were you?’

He grinned. ‘If I told you that, my love, I’d regret the indiscretion for the rest of my life. Now, you may go back to sleep for exactly forty-one minutes, then you get up and put the joint on. I should be finished in the darkroom in an hour.’ With a wave he ducked out of the bedroom and ran down the spiral stairs to the studio below.

The north London traffic was heavy, and Jo was impatient, but she was so preoccupied she barely noticed the queueing cars and the heavy pall of fumes under the brassy blue sky. It was not until eventually the road widened and the cars began to thin that she started to relax and look round her. The air became lush with country summer: blossom, thick and scented on the trees, rich new green leaves, hedgerows smothered in cow parsley and hawthorn, while overhead the sky arched in an intensity of blue that never showed itself in London. Jo smiled to herself, turning off the main road to make her way through the lanes towards Long Melford. She always felt light-headed and free when she arrived in Suffolk. Perhaps it was the air or the thought of seeing Ceecliff, or perhaps it was only the fact that she was nearly always faint with hunger by the time she reached her grandmother’s house.

She turned down the winding drive which led towards the mellow, pinkwashed house and drew up slowly outside the front door. Nick’s Porsche was parked in the shade beneath the chestnut tree. She sat and stared at it for a moment, then angrily she threw open the car door and climbed out.

Nick must have heard the scrunch of her car tyres on the gravel for he appeared almost at once around the corner of the house. He was in shirt-sleeves, looking relaxed and rested as he grinned at her and raised his hand in greeting. ‘You’re just in time for a drink.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Her anger had evaporated as fast as it had come and there was a strange tightness in her throat as she looked at him. Hastily she turned away to pull her bag out of the car. She held it against her chest and wrapped her arms around it defensively.

‘I needed to talk to your grandmother, so I rang her up and came down last night.’ He stopped six feet from her, looking at her closely. She had unfastened her hair, letting it fall loosely over her shoulders in an informal style which suited her far better than her usual severe line, and she had changed into a soft clinging dress of peacock-blue silk before leaving home. She looked, Nick thought suddenly, very fragile and very beautiful. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her. ‘She’s in the garden at the back with the sherry bottle. Come on round.’

‘What was so important you suddenly have to drive out to Suffolk to talk about it?’ Jo asked mildly.

Nick was silent for a moment, still staring at her. Then he shook his head slowly. ‘I thought I’d do some research for you.’ He grinned. ‘Guess who came from Clare, just round the corner?’ He began to lead the way across the gravel.

Jo followed him. ‘You came here to check on that?’ she said in disbelief.

Nick shrugged. ‘Well no, not exactly. I wanted to talk mainly. And I admit it, I told Ceecliff not to say anything about me when she rang you. I wanted to talk to you too and I thought you might not come if you knew I was here.’

‘It’s a pity she didn’t mention you,’ Jo retorted. ‘Your girlfriend was with me when she rang. You could have had a word with her and put her mind at rest. She clearly thought I had hidden you under my bed.’

‘Judy was at your flat this morning?’ Nick frowned.

Jo had begun to walk towards the garden at the back of the house. The grass was soft, scented beneath her sandals, with patches of damp velvety moss and strewn with daisies. ‘She was just telling me that your brother had confided to her that I was schizophrenic and would need to be locked up soon.’

Nick laughed. ‘I hope you didn’t believe her. I’m afraid you seem to bring out the worst in Judy.’ He was following her now, round the corner of the house. ‘Jo, I think there’s something I should explain. Wait a minute, please.’ He caught her arm.

‘There’s no explaining to do, Nick.’ Jo turned to him, pulling herself free. ‘You and I have split up. You have a new woman in your life. The night before last you were kind enough to help me out for old times’ sake, when I was feeling a bit frayed, but as soon as someone else turned up to sort me out, you went back to Judy. End of story. Lucky Judy. Only I wish you would explain to her she need not feel so insecure.’

She could feel a sudden warm breeze stirring her hair as she walked on towards the walnut tree near the willow-shaded pond where her grandmother was sitting in a deckchair. On the horizon white cumulus was beginning to mass into tall thunderheads. She bent and kissed Ceecliff’s cheek.

‘That was unfair to trap me into coming here. Nick and I have nothing to talk about.’

Ceecliff surveyed her from piercingly bright dark eyes. ‘I would have thought you had a great deal to talk about. And if he hasn’t, I have! Nick has told me about your amazing experiences, Jo.’ She reached up and took her granddaughter’s hand. ‘I want to hear all about them. You mustn’t be frightened of what happened. You have been privileged.’

Jo stared at her. ‘You sound as if you believe in reincarnation.’

‘I think I must. Of a kind.’ Ceecliff smiled. ‘Come on. Sit down and have a sherry and relax. You’re as taut as a wire! Nicholas came up last night to talk to me about you. He was worried that you’re trying to do too much, Jo. And I agree with him. From what he’s told me, I think you need to rest. You must not try and venture into your past again.’

‘Oh, so that’s it.’ Jo levered herself back out of the deckchair she had settled into. ‘He came here to get you to talk me out of going on with my researches. Part of the great Franklyn conspiracy. I wish you would all get it into your heads that this is no one’s business but mine. What I do with my mind and my memory, or whatever it is, is my affair. I am a sober, consenting, rational adult. I make my own decisions.’

Ceecliff was looking up at her as she talked. She grinned impishly. ‘There you are, Nicholas. I told you she’d say that.’

Nick shrugged ruefully. ‘You did. But it was worth a try.’ He handed Jo a glass. ‘So come on, Jo. You haven’t told us whether you found anything out in the library yesterday. We are all agog.’

Jo stared at him in feigned astonishment. ‘Are you telling me now that you’re interested? You amaze me! You weren’t so interested yesterday when you couldn’t wait to leave and go back to Judy!’ She had forgotten her grandmother, seated between them.

‘I only went because Sam said I had to, for God’s sake!’ Nick’s face was flushed with anger. ‘Don’t you think I wanted to stay? If he hadn’t pulled rank and reminded me you were his patient I’d have waited all day to make sure you were all right.’

Jo put her glass down on the tray so abruptly the sherry spilled onto the silver, spattering into amber droplets. ‘He said I was his patient?’ she echoed. Her face had gone white.

Ceecliff had been watching them both intently. ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean it literally, dear,’ she put in hastily. ‘I expect he meant that as you had both called him in for his advice he would like the opportunity of talking to Jo alone.’

‘I didn’t call him in!’ Jo glared at Nick repressively. ‘It was Nick’s idea.’

‘Because he is obviously enormously concerned about you.’ Stiffly Ceecliff pulled herself to her feet. ‘Now, no more fighting, children. I wish to enjoy my lunch. Come inside and later Jo can tell us what she found out about her Matilda.’

They took their coffee in the conservatory at the back of the house as huge clouds massed and foamed over the garden, blotting out a sky which had become brazen with heat. Ceecliff sent Nick out to bring in the garden chairs as the rain began to fall in huge sparse drops, pitting the surface of the pond. Then she turned to Jo.

‘You’re going to drive that young man straight into her arms, you know!’

Jo was pouring the coffee, frowning with concentration as she handled the tall silver pot. ‘It’s where he wants to be.’

‘No, Jo, it isn’t. Can’t you see it?’ Ceecliff leaned forward and helped herself to a cup from the tray. ‘You are being very stubborn. Especially as you obviously love him. You do, don’t you?’

Jo sat down on the window-seat, her back to the garden. ‘I don’t know,’ she said bleakly. Her hands were lying loosely in her lap. She stared blankly down at them, suddenly overwhelmingly tired. ‘I’m not sure what I feel any more about anyone. I’m not sure I even know what I feel about myself.’

‘That’s ridiculous.’ Ceecliff leaned forward and picking up Jo’s cup put it into her hands. ‘Drink that and listen to me. You’re getting things out of perspective.’

‘Am I?’ Jo bit her lip. ‘Either Nick or Sam lied to me and I don’t know which.’

‘All men are liars, Jo.’ Ceecliff smiled sadly. ‘Haven’t you discovered that yet?’