Sarah Rayne - What Lies Beneath

‘Well,’ said Ella’s mother, looking at her very directly, ‘did you?’

Ella stared at her, then gave another sob and ran out of the kitchen.

Her mother did not ask the question again. They finished the baking and set out the cakes to cool, then she told Ella to put on her coat because they were going to Priors Bramley. She said it in her firmest voice and Ella knew there was no arguing.

The sun was setting as they walked across Mordwich Meadow. Ella normally liked sunsets, but this one was an angry brownish orange, as if something had clawed at the sky and made it bleed. As they went down the bank the primroses that grew in the clay soil were dull and sad-looking, and when they came in sight of the manor in its dip of land, it was splashed with the same sulky light. Even the crouching outline of the lodge, set apart from it, looked as if it had dried blood on its grey walls. As they got closer there was a too-sweet scent on the air, and Ella shuddered.

‘It’ll be quite safe,’ said her mother, seeing this. ‘I’ll go through the side door in the wall and across the old kitchen gardens. You can wait by the stile.’

‘Everywhere smells horrid,’ said Ella, wrinkling her nose.

‘That’s probably the Geranos. It’s like geranium scent, isn’t it?’

Ella did not say it was making her feel sick.

As they reached the lane with the high wall, in a very small voice, she said, ‘He’ll still be there, won’t he? That man?’

‘If he was dead he will. But you can’t be sure he was dead, you know. It’s very likely he was only knocked out and he got up and walked home.’

No, he didn’t, thought Ella. I know he didn’t. You know it, as well.

‘But don’t worry about it – I’ll find the watch, then no one can ever prove you were here that morning.’

‘Clem and Veronica know I was here.’

‘If it ever comes out I shall say you were with me all day last Saturday,’ said Ella’s mother. ‘I’ll say Clem and Veronica are telling silly lies.’

Ella wanted to find this comforting, but the trouble was that Mum kept saying it. ‘Silly lies, that’s what we’ll say,’ she repeated. ‘All silly lies.’ The third time she said it the words came out sloppily, and Ella saw her eyes had the blurry look that meant she had taken what she called her ‘special medicine’ before coming out. She sometimes took a dose of it if she had to do something difficult or unpleasant; she said it gave her extra strength. Ella thought the medicine might have brandy in it, because it smelled like Christmas pudding.

The side door into the manor grounds was closed. There was a tangle of barbed wire over it – Ella thought that had not been there last week – and a notice saying to keep out.

‘We can’t get in,’ she said in panic.

‘Yes, we can. It won’t be locked, and I’ve brought my gardening gloves to put on so I can unwind the barbed wire.’

‘Are you sure about the – um – Geranos stuff being all right? I mean, really absolutely sure?’ Ella was hating the geranium scent, and now they were closer to the manor a queer brownish haze seemed to hang over everything.

‘Yes, I told you. It’s just a test they’re doing on the plants and wildlife. And they’re only doing it because there’s a delay about the motorway. It’ll be months and months before they start building it, so they don’t want anyone saying the Priors Bramley people were pushed out of their houses too soon. That’s why they’re pretending they need the empty village for an experiment. Only it isn’t important at all, it’s just to fool everyone…’ The words trailed off vaguely and Ella looked at her worriedly. ‘They think they’re fooling everyone, those stupid government people, but they aren’t fooling me. Not a bit, they aren’t. You have to get up very early to do that. Geranos, ha! I’d give them Geranos.’

‘Clem’s father said Geranos was something to do with stopping the Russians from dropping bombs on us,’ said Ella, hoping this would make Mum talk normally again. It was awful when she was all slurry and sloppy like this.

‘Oh, the Russians won’t drop any bombs. Certainly not on us. Clem’s father is a stupid old fool anyway.’

Ella’s mother tugged the barbed wire aside and opened the garden door. The hinges creaked gratingly and, as it swung inwards, Ella had the sudden feeling that a nightmare was opening up. But she could see into the manor grounds and everywhere looked exactly as it had done one week ago, except for the coppery haze that lay everywhere – like a diseased fog, thought Ella. That must be what had tainted the sunset.

Her mother did not seem worried by the copper mist. She went through the gate and across the tangled grass as Ella and the other two had done last Saturday, and then across the cracked pavings surrounding the house. The dust swirled a bit as she disturbed it; Ella saw that in places it lay on the ground in tiny glistening lumps like the top of a rice pudding when the skin got burned.

She sat down on the grass to wait. It shouldn’t take Mum long to find the watch. She had only to go up the stairs and into the room where the three of them had hidden, and then, if the watch was not there, to come downstairs and go into the room off the hall. That was where he was. What would he look like after being dead for a week? Ella had no idea what happened to dead bodies. Would his eyes be open and staring?

The garden door was still partly open, and Ella could see the house – the big doors and the marble pillars on each side. She could see part of the gardens, as well. In autumn there were gentians here, a patch of lovely blue mistiness under a big oak tree, but today the oak looked sick and dusty as if something had shaken masses of pepper over its leaves. The pepperiness was getting into Ella’s throat a bit; it made her cough.

It was very quiet. Usually at this time the evening birdsong was everywhere, but now it was as if even the birds had been smothered. Ella began to feel uneasy; she looked across at the house again, hoping to see her mother come out, hoping against hope the watch would have been found.

And then into this thick tainted silence came a trickle of sound. At first it puzzled Ella, but with dawning horror she realized it was music: threads and curls of sounds, as faint as grey cobwebs that would dissolve if you blew on them.

She sprang to her feet, looking round, her heart starting to pitter-pat with nervousness, because no matter how faint the music was, she recognized it. It was his music, the music he had played and sobbed over inside St Anselm’s church that afternoon. She stood very still, listening intently, wanting to run away as fast as she could, but not daring to move, listening to the music seeping into the sick-smelling gardens. It sounded as if it was being played on a gramophone, but whatever was playing it, there was no mistaking it. Was it coming from inside the house? Or was it from the lodge, a little way along the drive? Did it mean he was still here, that he wasn’t dead?

When her mother appeared between the marble pillars, Ella gave a sob of relief and got to her feet. Mum would know what had happened and what they should do. Here she came, walking quite fast as if she wanted to get away from Cadence Manor and the sad sick village. As she crossed the terrace she stumbled on the uneven surface and Ella started forward, thinking she was going to fall, but Mum waved to her to stay where she was. Ella sat down again on the bit of grass, hugging her knees with her arms. The music had stopped. Ella knew the exact moment it had done so – she had felt the faint thrumming on the air fade into silence.

When her mother reached the gate, she was shaking her head. ‘I couldn’t find it,’ she said. ‘But that’s all right, Ella, because I looked everywhere very thoroughly and if I couldn’t find it, no one else will. We’ll look for it as we go along the lane, though.’