Nicola Upson - Angel with Two Faces

‘I missed you too,’ he said, and she suspected he was avoiding her question. ‘You and Morwenna. How is she?’

‘Cross. She’s always cross these days. And don’t tell me she’s got a lot to worry about,’ she added as he opened his mouth to speak. ‘Everybody tells me that, but it never makes things any easier for me.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry,’ he said gently. ‘It’s all my fault for having to go away, but I’ll make it up to you – to both of you. Is she at home now?’ Loveday nodded. ‘Then shall we go and see if we can stop her being so cross?’

‘Do we have to go right now?’ asked Loveday, disappointed. She resented having to share Harry so soon. It wasn’t fair when she was the only one who’d believed unquestioningly that he would return to them – she ought to have longer to savour her triumph alone. ‘Can’t we go for a walk first?’ she pleaded, taking his hand and trying to pull him away in the opposite direction.

‘Later,’ he said firmly. ‘We can do that later. But I need to talk to Morwenna first. It wouldn’t be fair if I saw anyone else before I saw her, would it?’

‘Suppose not.’ She glanced further into the woods for a moment, remembering Christopher and torn between her loyalty to him and to her brother. Then she reminded herself that it was Christopher who had left her, and decided he could wait; it would serve him right to wonder where she was, just as she had lain awake thinking about him.

Harry was quiet as they walked back to Loe Cottage together. No doubt he was worried that Morwenna would be cross with him, too, and Loveday squeezed his hand reassuringly. It would be all right when the three of them were back together again. She led the way round to the back and pushed open the door, longing to see the look on Morwenna’s face when she realised what had happened. She must try not to show off too much about having been right all along; it was Nathaniel who had convinced her, and she would have to go and thank him as soon as possible. People never died if there was someone left to care for them. Love brought them back. That was as it should be.

Quietly, they walked down the corridor to the kitchen. Morwenna was fully dressed, now, and standing at the sink. ‘Found him already?’ she asked without turning round. ‘Or have you just changed your mind?’

‘I’ve found someone ,’ Loveday said. ‘I told you I would.’

Impatiently, Morwenna turned round and Loveday looked on, fascinated, as all the colour drained from her face – something which she thought only happened to people in books. The plate which Morwenna was drying fell to the floor, and Loveday watched the pieces scatter across the blue slates. She stepped forward to pick them up, but Morwenna raised a hand to stop her. ‘Loveday, go outside,’ she said, and there was something strange and tight about her voice, as if invisible fingers around her throat made it difficult for her to breathe.

Horrified at the thought of missing the reunion which she had longed for, Loveday started to argue. ‘No, I want to stay with Harry,’ she said. ‘You can’t make me…’

‘Get out,’ Morwenna screamed.

Loveday looked desperately at her brother. ‘I can’t leave,’ she said, realising she was about to cry and furious with herself for being afraid. ‘What if you go away again?’

Harry knelt down and took her hands in his, and she caught the strong, dark scent of earth on his fingers. ‘I won’t go anywhere without you – I promise,’ he said, in that special voice that he used only for her, and she shot a triumphant look at Morwenna, who turned away. ‘But your sister and I have some things to talk about and we need to sort out what the three of us are going to do now. Will you do something for me?’ She nodded. ‘Go outside for a bit, and don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me. It’s the most important secret that you and I have ever had, and you’ve got to promise me to keep it safe. Will you do that?’

‘Of course,’ Loveday said, offended that he’d even had to ask. ‘You know I will.’

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Now, give us some time and then, when we’ve finished, you and I can get back to the way we were.’

Reluctantly, Loveday left them to it. Halfway down the corridor, she turned round to have one more look at Harry, and was a little miffed to see that he and Morwenna already seemed to have forgotten about her, so absorbed were they in their silent contemplation of each other. Suddenly, she thought back to how she felt when she was growing up and Harry and Morwenna had ignored her, and the jealousy which she had all but forgotten in more recent years returned with a vengeance. Why should she be sent away? She was grown up now – even Harry had said so – and she refused to be excluded any longer. At the end of the corridor, out of sight of the kitchen, Loveday opened the side door and closed it again as loudly as she could, then crept quietly up the back stairs to her room, trying hard not to feel like that lonely child of six again.

An eclectic mix of uniformed policemen and locals had already begun to gather when Archie and Josephine left the Loe estate. To save time, they took the car into the village rather than using the coastal path and Archie parked against the harbour wall, below a row of smart Edwardian houses with bay windows and a coat of arms on each gable. The terrace, which curved gently round, following the horseshoe outline of the harbour, culminated in an attractive granite building with a Welsh slate roof and square clock tower – three black faces and one white, Josephine noticed as they walked past.

‘What an unusual building,’ she said, admiring the quiet, unostentatious way in which the tower stared solidly out to sea, providing a focal point for the harbour no matter where you stood. ‘What is it?’

‘That’s our literary institute,’ Archie replied with mock grandeur, ‘although the arrival of a billiards table has rather changed the nature of its use. In fact, I believe they’ve had to bring in a second table to satisfy the current demand for learning.’ She laughed. ‘I thought it would be better if we left the car here,’ he added. ‘I don’t want to announce our visit any more loudly than I have to, and Morveth’s cottage is only a few minutes away.’

They walked up the cliff road, past a handful of fishermen’s cottages, and then a small tea room. Rather than object to the exercise, Josephine was pleased to see something of the village at last, and she realised that, in spite of its wide open spaces and many wonderful landscapes, the Loe estate had become a little claustrophobic because of its sadness – a little intense, even, in its beauty. A sizeable net-making business stretched back from the road on the left-hand side and, as they walked past, Josephine heard the rattle of machines and buzz of friendly conversation, and smelt the tar from the tanning factory opposite, where a donkey and cart stood waiting to drag the nets into nearby fields to dry. It was merely a glimpse of ordinariness, which echoed what had happened yesterday and would no doubt be repeated tomorrow, but it reassured and cheered her nonetheless.

Archie seemed to feel a similar respite from matters of life and death. He spoke very little on their way up the hill, but nodded warmly to several people, often using a nickname which was utterly incomprehensible to Josephine. ‘That’s Morveth’s house,’ he said, pointing ahead to a beautiful thatched cottage, separated from the sea by nothing more than the narrow road and a single-storey net loft. ‘It’s the oldest house in the village – the houses either side were built on much later – and it used to belong to the estate. Veronique – William’s wife – absolutely adored it. They’d come here together, just the two of them, before they had the children, and he left it to her in his will – he knew she wouldn’t want to stay in the big house after his death. Of course, it was never an issue. As soon as Veronique died, he sold it to Morveth – he couldn’t even bear to have the responsibility of it any more.’