Part 14 (1/2)

'No, its not. Now put on something that wont mind getting muddy and off we go.

So we did.

Mrs Crisp asked if we were going up on to the moors. I said tersely that I didnt know. She looked embarra.s.sed.

'We always ask, Mrs Checkland. The weather up there is very changeable, especially at this time of year. If you dont come back then we know where to look.

'Oh. Sorry. Yes I am, but not very far. Ill ... stick to the path.

She nodded and we set off.

We walked up the lane past the Braithwaites place. He was just emerging from the barn and waved. I waved back, slightly cheered by this small sign of friendliness.

As always, the air up here was crisp and clear. I felt it blow away more than my bad mood. The ground was wet underfoot, but the sun was struggling to come out. Perhaps it was an omen.

We walked for about an hour. Thomas was very quiet and I was lost in my own thoughts.

'What are you worrying about? Whether he will be at Frogmorton when we get back, or whether he wont?

'I dont know, I said, honestly.

' Try not to worry too much. Its been a pretty rough forty-eight hours. A good nights sleep and some time to reflect and maybe things will get back on track.

Are you talking about him or me?

'Actually, Im not sure.

He wasnt there when we got back. Mrs Crisp, looking even more worried than ever, asked me if he would be back for dinner. I said, truthfully, that I didnt know.

I sat in my room and wondered if I should telephone Andrew, but decided against it. If he was there then they would have called.

'Maybe hes finally run off with Francesca, I said.

' Will you get over this obsession with Francesca? The chances are that hes woken up, felt like death, and gone back to sleep again. If he has left the hotel, hes probably taken himself off somewhere quiet where he can calm down and start feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself.

I nodded. He was probably right.

'Now, start unpacking and putting down roots.

So I did. Mrs Crisp brought me some tea. I unpacked and hung my clothes, sliding my wedding dress carefully to one side of the wardrobe. I laid my bits and pieces on the dressing table and my toiletries in the bathroom. Thomas was right. He usually was, although there was no need to tell him that. I did feel better. Tomorrow, I would unpack my books and laptop.

I had dinner in solitary state in the little morning room, having refused point-blank to use the awful dining room. The living room seemed cold and bleak and was full of my boxes, so when Id finished eating, I went to bed.

Mrs Crisp said goodnight gravely and watched me go. I managed to get into my room before the tears started to fall. I curled on the bed and sobbed. Thomas gave me a few minutes before dropping his head and nuzzling my hair. The room filled with the smell of ginger biscuits.

I gulped a bit and pulled myself together.

'So, said Thomas. 'Was this day as bad as yesterday?

'Not quite.

'Well, there you go then. Progress.

'Thomas, where is he? What could he be doing?

'I dont know, but h.e.l.l be back soon. He has to be. He lives here.

'He was drunk at the wedding. He didnt attend the reception, such as it was. Now hes gone missing. Do you think we should call the police?

'No, said Thomas, firmly.

'Well, if he hasnt gone off with Francesca then the only reason hes not here is because he doesnt want to be with me.

'Yes, I think you might be right.

'What?

' No, I didnt mean that. I think hes too ashamed to show his face. Lets face it, he frightened you last night, he wakes up this morning and youre gone. Hes the one who should be panicking, not you. h.e.l.l turn up tomorrow, you just wait and see.

Somewhat comforted, I went to bed.

He didnt turn up tomorrow. I went downstairs for breakfast and now Mrs Crisp looked really anxious. 'Hes not a bad lad, she said. 'But he does take things to heart sometimes. Always has.

My thoughts went back to Francesca again, wondering what sort of body blow she had dealt him this time and whether she had done it out of spite, or, more likely, was just too stupid and self-absorbed to realise the damage she had done.

Mrs Crisp disappeared and I slowly finished my breakfast and wondered what to do next.

'Boxes, said Thomas, who appeared to have some sort of box fixation. ' Get your books arranged and youll feel better.

So I did, taking my time and arranging them on the half-empty shelves in the living room. Even so, I was finished by lunchtime. I unpacked my laptop and set it to charge.

I looked around the big, cold house and wondered what had happened to the bright, warm world Id known here only a couple of weeks ago. I went up to my room again.

'Jenny, you must stop this, said Thomas. ' You moved the world to get away from your aunt and all youre doing is sitting alone in yet another bedroom. This is your house. You can go wherever you like. Do whatever you like.

'Thomas, I dont know what to do. I never thought I would be here alone like this. I just dont know what my role here is. Aunt Julia never lifts a finger except to arrange a flower or two. Mrs Finch does pretty well everything, but Im not sure thats for me. But not only do I not know what to do, I dont know how to do it, either. I could probably plug in a vacuum cleaner, or dust something, but I dont know how to run a house. What would Mrs Crisp say? What does she want me to do? Being Jenny Checkland is very different from being Jenny Dove.

'Well, tell her.

'What?

' Shes not a monster, Jenny. Shes nice old Mrs Crisp who looked after Russell when his mother died and is probably worried to death, not only about where he is at the moment, but also whether shes still going to have a job here under the new regime.

I hadnt thought of that. That someone could be even more apprehensive about the future than me. Feeling a little braver, I went downstairs. Lunch was on my own again. I ate slowly and then took my dishes back to the kitchen.

'Oh, Mrs Checkland, I would have done that.