Chapter 39
Beth
Istare at the silver-haired woman in the pale blue dressing gown. It’s almost thirty years since I last saw her, but her eyes glitter just as brightly now, in the freezing night air, as they did that long-ago summer’s day when I first arrived at Raven Hall.
“Leonora,” I say. “My God. I should have known.”
Her eyes widen, and she pulls her flimsy dressing gown closer around herself. “Beth? Is that really you?”
I pull Sadie tighter against me. What the hell did Leonora want with my daughter?
I’d disappeared, changed my name, done everything I could to leave this place behind.
I thought I’d be free of Raven Hall forever, so long as I never mentioned it again; I had no reason to suspect that Leonora might track me down—why would she?
But it seems I’ve been so focused on burying the past, and on trying to ensure Sadie’s life turns out better than my own, that I’ve deprived Sadie of the very knowledge that might have kept her safe.
Leonora lured me here once and made me play her game. How could I have gone away and left Sadie so vulnerable?
My eyes are gritty with exhaustion. My knuckles are bleeding from hammering on windows and doors.
My limbs are weak from the adrenaline that’s been pumping through my arteries for too long.
But Leonora’s expression of faux innocence drives all this from my mind and replaces it with a cold, sharp-edged fury.
I give Sadie one last squeeze and let her go, moving around her on the gravel to advance on Leonora.
“What’s wrong with you?” As I move toward her, Leonora retreats up the stone steps.
I pause, still on the gravel, and I curl my fists.
“I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing this time, but I won’t let you get away with it again; I promise you.
My daughter could have been killed in there. ”
Leonora shakes her head with that same wounded expression. “Your daughter?” Her gaze slides to Sadie. “I had no idea she was your daughter.”
My laugh hurts my throat. “Really?”
“No—” Incredibly, Leonora manages to look tearful. “We were introduced as Miss Lamb and”—she gestures to herself—“Mrs. Shrew. If I’d known she was your daughter . . .”
I want to accuse her of lying, but the guilt that’s gnawed away at me for twenty-nine years dries the words in my throat. I’m not blameless here; I can’t forget that.
I lift my chin sharply. “Well, it’s a remarkable coincidence.” I indicate the open front door behind her, the ruined staircase beyond. “I suppose this fire was just an accident too?” I turn to Jonas. “Has someone rung the police? I don’t have a signal . . .”
Jonas pulls a face. “The landline’s not connected. And, Beth”—he glances around at the other shivering guests—“we’re all frozen. We need to get coats on, and then a couple of us can drive to the village for help.”
I realize he’s gesturing to the ancient mini, its driver’s door still hanging open. I shake my head.
“It overheated. I can’t get it to start again.
I was lucky to get here at all—I’d have gone for help if I could.
” I peer into the surrounding darkness, but I had a view of the driveway in my headlights as I pulled up, and I know there are no other cars here.
“We’ll have to walk . . .” Turning back, I see Leonora has retreated to the top step. “Don’t let her back in the house!”
Leonora holds up her hands, and her tone is plaintive. “I was only going to get my coat.”
“I’ll get everyone’s coats,” another voice says, and for the first time, I look properly at the three other guests who came bursting out of Raven Hall behind Sadie.
The wild-haired and anxious-looking woman hurrying past Leonora into the hall to fetch the coats is a few years older than Sadie.
The skinny, dark-haired man standing next to Jonas is rubbing his arms and staring at Leonora.
The elderly man has gone to sit on the steps to one side; he’s partially turned away from us, peering at his phone. I don’t recognize any of them.
The wild-haired woman returns with an armful of coats.
“Thanks, Nazleen,” Sadie says as she takes a coat at random from the woman. I help Sadie put it on.
“Someone will have to walk to the village, then,” I say, “if there’s no other way.” I look at Jonas. “Do you think you could . . . ?”
“Of course.” Jonas drops his voice as he comes closer. “But be careful while I’m gone.”
“I lived with Leonora for a year and a half,” I say curtly. “Don’t worry. I know what she’s capable of.”
The rest of the group stops murmuring, and I realize they all heard me.
I look into Sadie’s eyes, and I know exactly what she’s thinking.
Tell me, Mum. Don’t hide the past any longer.
Tell me. And I don’t know whether it’s the therapy I’ve been practicing at the retreat, or the shock of seeing Leonora again after all these years, or just the pleading expression in my daughter’s eyes, but I feel a sudden surge of strength, as if I were drawing courage directly from the earth beneath my feet.
“Certain things happened here when I was a child.” I look pointedly at Leonora. “Not just the fire. Other things too. Nina was poisoned here.”
There’s a collective intake of breath.
Nazleen glances at Leonora, then back to me. “Who’s Nina?”
“Nina was—” For a moment, I don’t think I can go on.
But Sadie reaches out and catches my hand in hers, and it gives me courage.
“Nina was Leonora’s daughter,” I say. “She was four months younger than me. My best friend. We were almost like sisters.” I squeeze Sadie’s hand tighter.
“And Leonora made her sick, deliberately. I’m convinced of it. Not just once. Three times, at least.”
On the top step, Leonora shakes her head, but her expression is fearful.
The skinny man pipes up. “Wait. I felt sick this evening. Several of us did, didn’t we?” He calls out to the old man sitting on the steps. “You did too, didn’t you, Dad? And you said you felt really tired, like you’d been drugged or something.”
Nazleen says, “Yeah, me too. I felt nauseated, and then dizzy, like I couldn’t think straight.”
At my side, Sadie nods. “Me too. And I don’t think it’s worn off yet. My head still feels hollow. And, Joe, didn’t you say—?”
Jonas shuffles his feet. “Yeah, I haven’t been feeling that great either.”
As we lift our gazes back to Leonora, she lurches toward the open door.
“Stop her!” I shout.
The skinny man throws himself in front of her, blocking her retreat into the house.
“Well done, Zach,” Nazleen says.
Leonora pokes the man called Zach in the chest. “Let me pass.” Her voice trembles. “This is my house . . .”
I move up the steps behind her. “You say that, Leonora, but it’s not true, is it? This was never really your house.”
She turns to glare at me. “How dare you! I took you in, when you had nobody. I was only ever kind to you . . .”
“You made me lie,” I say. “You made me pretend to be Nina. You poisoned your own daughter. You started that fire in my bedroom . . . Why? It was all to do with the house, I know, but why . . . ?”
Leonora presses her lips together and shakes her head.
“Okay,” Jonas says cautiously. “Look, we need to get the police out here. You lot go back inside. I’ll grab a torch and run to the village.”
Nazleen crosses her arms. “There’s no way I’m sitting in a room with her.” She jerks her chin at Leonora. “Not if she just tried to kill us.”
“How about,” Sadie says, “we lock her in the study? There’s a key in the door. Can we get on with it? I’m freezing.”
Zach stands aside, and Leonora casts a disdainful look over us all.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” she says, but she marches into the house and shuts herself in the study without another word. Zach marches to the door and turns the key. Jonas retrieves a torch from the hall table, but he pauses on the top step next to me as he comes out again.
“I’ll be as quick as I can.” He searches my gaze. “It really is good to see you again, you know.”
For a moment, despite my exhaustion, I consider offering to go with him. Anything to avoid setting foot in Raven Hall again. But the sight of Sadie’s shivering figure stops me. She needs me to stay here with her; I’m not leaving her again.
I nod at Jonas. “Just hurry.”
He sets off down the driveway at a jog, quickly swallowed by the darkness, only the bouncing beam of his torch showing his progress as he heads toward the road.
The old man, who up until now hasn’t said a word, hauls himself up from his position on the steps, and he shuffles toward us with a sour expression.
“Come on, then. Let’s get back inside,” he says. “One of you girls put the kettle on, will you? I’m frozen half to death here. This bloody house.”