House of Echoes. Barbara Erskine
him, far behind, a scattering of men, the messenger amongst them, tried to keep up with him; soon they would have fallen out of sight.
In the silent bedroom Joss lay on the bed. Sitting beside her was their new doctor, Simon Fraser, summoned by Luke. His hand was cool and firm as he held her wrist, his eyes on his watch. At last he put her hand down. He had already listened to her chest and pressed her stomach experimentally. ‘Mrs Grant,’ he looked up at last, his eyes a pale clear blue beneath his gold-rimmed glasses. ‘When did you last have a period?’
Joss sat up, relieved to find her head had stopped spinning. She opened her mouth to answer and then hesitated. ‘What with the move and everything, I’ve sort of lost track –’ Her smile faded. ‘You don’t mean –’
He nodded. ‘My guess is you are about three months pregnant.’ He tucked his stethoscope into his case and clicked the locks shut. ‘Let’s get you down to the hospital for a scan and we’ll find out just how far along you are.’ He stood up and smiled down at her. ‘Was it planned?’
Katherine
It was there again, the sound in her head. She strained to hear the words, but they were too far away.
Katherine: my love; wait for me …
‘Mrs Grant? Joss?’ Simon Fraser was staring at her intently. ‘Are you all right?’
Joss focused on him, frowning.
‘I asked if the baby was planned,’ he repeated patiently.
She shrugged. ‘No. Yes. I suppose so. We wanted another to keep Tom company. Perhaps not quite so soon. There’s so much to do –’ It had gone. The voice had faded.
‘Well, you are not going to be the one doing it.’ He lifted his case. ‘I’m going to be stern, Mrs Grant. That turn you had this morning is probably quite normal – hormones leaping about and rearranging themselves – but I’ve seen too many women wear themselves out in the early months of pregnancy and then regret it later. Just take it easy. The house, the boxes, the unpacking – none of it will go away by itself, but at the same time, none of it is so urgent you need to risk yourself or your baby. Understood?’ He grinned, a sudden boyish smile which lit his face. ‘I’ve always wanted to come and see this house – it’s so beautiful – but I don’t want to be coming up here at all hours because the new lady squire is overtaxing herself. Right?’
Joss sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. ‘It sounds to me as though you’ve been got at. Luke must have talked to you before you came up here, doctor.’
He laughed. ‘Maybe. Maybe not, but I’m a fairly good judge of human nature.’
Luke’s hug, in the kitchen later, swept her off her feet. ‘Clever, clever darling! Let’s have some champagne! David, are you prepared to brave the cellar? There is some there.’
‘Luke –’ Protesting, Joss subsided into a chair. ‘I shouldn’t have champagne. Besides, shouldn’t we wait until I’ve had the proper tests?’ She still felt a little odd – disorientated, as though she had woken too suddenly from a dream.
‘No chance.’ Luke was glowing with excitement. ‘We’ll have another bottle then. Besides there’s no doubt is there? He said he could feel it! I’m sure, and you are too, aren’t you –’ he paused for a moment on his way to collect four glasses and looked at her shrewdly. ‘A woman always knows.’
Raising her fingers to her forehead Joss pressed distractedly against her brow. ‘I don’t know. I suppose there have been signs.’ Queasiness in the mornings for one. In the rush to get Tom up and dressed she hadn’t taken much notice. Her tiredness she had put down to the fact that she was doing much too much. ‘So nanny –’ she looked at Lyn, ‘you’ll have another charge soon, it seems.’
Lyn’s eyes were sparkling. ‘You’ll have to pay me more to look after two.’
‘Oh great. Thanks!’
‘At least writing your book will keep you sitting still. You’ve got no excuse not to start, now,’ Luke said firmly. He put the glasses down on the table and then dropped a kiss on the top of her head. ‘I’ll go and help David find a bottle.’
David was standing in the cellar in front of the wine racks as Luke walked slowly down the steps. ‘It’s bloody cold down here. This is all vintage, you know. And some of it is still in really good nick.’ He glanced at Luke and lowered his voice. ‘If you need money you could do worse than sell some of this. There are some very valuable wines here. Look at this! Haut-Brion ’49 – and look Chateau d’Yquem!’
‘What sort of money are we talking about?’ Luke reached for a bottle and extracted it carefully from the rack. ‘This is –’ he squinted ‘– 1948.’
‘Don’t shake it whatever you do! That’s about 350 quids’ worth you’ve got in your hand. You are looking at thousands, Luke. Ten. Twenty. Maybe more.’
‘You know, I did wonder. That’s why I wanted you to have a look at them.’
David nodded. ‘I can give you the name of someone at the wine auction house at Sotheby’s who would come and value it and catalogue it. It would be a tragedy in a way to get rid of it, but I know you’re strapped for cash, and with another kid on the way, you could do worse than raise some like this. Besides, you’re just as happy with plonk, aren’t you, you ignoramus!’ He chuckled.
‘I think I’d better put this back –’ Luke glanced at the bottle in his hand.
‘You’d better! Come on. Let’s find some champagne for the baby.’ David selected a bottle from the rack and studied the label, ‘Pommery Brut 1945. Not bad!’
‘Just twenty or thirty quid a bottle, I suppose?’ Luke groaned.
‘More like fifty! It’s a strange life you lead here, isn’t it.’ David shook his head slowly. ‘All the trappings of grandeur, yet a bit short of cash.’
‘A bit!’ Luke grinned. He was not going to let himself think about Barry and H & G’s money. ‘We were planning to live off the land here. Literally. The money I can make from doing up cars is peanuts. It’s a mug’s game – so slow – but at least it will bring in enough hopefully for electricity bills and community charge, that sort of thing. Joss would never hear of selling anything out of the house – she is so obsessed with the history of it all, but wine is not quite the same, is it? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind about that. It could make the difference between hell and a hard place for us, David.’ He cradled the bottle in his arms. ‘Tell me something. Do you think Joss really could make any money out of writing?’
David grimaced. ‘She can write. She has a wonderful imagination. I’ve told her that I’ve taken the liberty of showing some of her stuff to a publisher friend of mine. He particularly liked one of her short stories. He’s keen to see more, and he wouldn’t say that unless he meant it. But beyond that it’s in the lap of the gods.’ He gave a sudden shiver. ‘Come on, old chap. Let’s get out of here. It’s so bloody cold. A hot meal is what we all need, I think!’
It wasn’t until quite a bit later that Joss managed to go back to the church alone. She had in her hand a small bunch of holly mixed with red dead nettle, and winter jasmine and shiny green sprigs of ivy covered in flowers.
The church was almost dark when she found the key in its hiding place and pushed open the heavy door to make her way up the dim nave. The vase was clean and full of fresh water as she stood it gently on the shelf in front of the little brass. ‘There you are, Katherine,’ she whispered. ‘New flowers for Christmas. Katherine?’ She paused, almost expecting there to be a response, a repeat of the strange reverberation in her head, but there was none. The church was silent. With a wry smile she turned away.
The kitchen was empty. For a moment she stood in front of the stove, warming her hands. The others were all out, all occupied. She should be unpacking