The insult provoked me. ‘Didn’t your first marriage end because you had an affair with Zack?’
‘Patrick…’ Holly warned me.
But Miranda spoke over her. ‘I started seeing Zack because my first husband fucked a twenty-year-old intern in his office! That is the one thing I cannot stand. Cheating. Disloyalty. You know, if he’d come to me first, said he wanted a discreet, open marriage, I might have said yes. But infidelity– it shows contempt.’
‘And you’re sure Zack has always been faithful to you?’
‘Oh yes.’ She smirked. ‘He has no reason to go elsewhere. And he wouldn’t find anyone else willing to put up with his… little preferences.’
‘Oh Jesus, Miranda.’ Holly made a gagging face. ‘Too much information.’
I remembered hearing them the other night.
Whatever, at least I knew now that Miranda was not going to turn against her husband. I wasn’t going to win her over.
We drove on in silence for a little while. The snow had slowed to the faintest smattering. I switched off the wipers.
Then Miranda said, ‘I’m looking forward to seeing the manor house again.’ Her tone had the soft tinge of nostalgia. ‘We were all so happy back then, weren’t we? Mum was so excited about the arts centre. Dad was, too. And then it all went so horribly wrong.’
She and Holly began to reminisce about when they were young, telling stories to each other about their mum and Lewis.
How had I ended up here? Only a few days ago I’d been in Brighton, full of excitement about coming to Scotland and spending time with Holly’s family. Apprehensive, too, of course, but mostly looking forward to coming here.
‘It will be fun,’ Holly had said when she’d invited me on this trip. ‘It’s a beautiful place. Bleak and windswept and real, you know?’
I knew that in the morning, when the sun came up, with the hills covered in snow, it certainly would look beautiful. But I didn’t want to die here.
35
Five minutes later, I got my first look at what would have been the Elizabeth Grant Arts Centre. It was ten o’clock and the snow had stopped falling completely, over an hour earlier than forecast and, as I stood by the car, the clouds parted, allowing the moon to shine through. There– incongruous in this empty landscape– was the manor house, glowing white in the moonlight, surrounded by trees, their snow-dusted branches appearing to shiver in the cold. There was no fog here, and the moon shone on the surface of the snow so that everything glowed.
‘It’s magnificent,’ I said.
‘It used to be.’ Holly seemed shaken. ‘It’s four hundred years old, if you can believe that. Dad told us it started life as a hunting lodge and then some tobacco baron bought it towards the end of the eighteenth century and their family lived here for generations until the last one died.’
‘Of smoking?’
‘Ha. I don’t know, but it ended up in the hands of the local council—’
‘Who sold it to your dad.’
It was easy to see why the locals were so angry with Charles. Because even though the building was beautiful, with its grey roof and chimneys and its ornate doors and windows, the closer I looked, the more I could see how it was falling apart. Most of those pretty windows were broken, their framesrotten, one of the chimneys was tilting to the side and the white paintwork was mottled and flaking. The land it sat on, which stretched for acres, was empty and unused, too. Just overgrown grass and hedgerows that were out of control. A paradise for wildlife, including, I assumed, the adders who had made it their home even before Charles bought it.
Miranda got out of the car behind us and put her hand to her mouth. ‘You know, I’m not actually sure I can bear it. It brings back too many memories. The last time I came here was with Mum.’
I felt sorry for her. I also hoped this would make her decide to stay here.
But she said, ‘No, I must face my demons.’
I clenched my fists with frustration.
‘That’s the path that leads to the caves,’ Holly said, pointing down the hill to our left with a visible shudder. Thinking about Lewis, no doubt.
We walked from the car park, the three of us leaving a trail of footprints, towards the house.
Miranda fell behind a little.
‘How do you feel about how your dad found Jasmine? Now you’ve had time for it to sink in.’
