Silent, Return To The House (1)

Two Years Ago, Lucy

They asked the cab driver to drop them off at the entrance to the private driveway.  She hadn't told Gavin everything.  She couldn't bring herself to mention her half-brother Pete, her visits to Katie Whittaker or Veronica's phone call to Steve concerning yesterday afternoon at the bungalow.  

'So what have you got in mind?' Gavin asked her on the walk down the drive.

'If I can get into the reception without Veronica spotting me, I hope to break into the main computer system and email the files to my address. Then I can read them later.'

She needed to access the computer files fast because Maxine and Ash had got back to her with bad news following her call to Ash last night: they were coming over on Friday evening instead of Saturday morning as they'd originally intended, and driving her back to Yorkshire. You're not staying there alone, Max had insisted late last night when the full truth had come out about the notes and photo. We'll have to think up another plan.

'I also want to break into the apartment where Agnes is staying.'  

'Where's the apartment exactly?'

'Top floor, facing front and back.  It's very big. Part of it's used as a store room where the archives are kept.  Private papers and things. It's not actually her apartment, but no one knew she was coming back and the bungalow was already occupied.'

'And you managed to get hold of a key?'

'I used the one left for the cleaner and made a photocopy.'

'So what're you looking for?'

'Letters that might have passed between her and other members of the family. Family secrets. Information regarding the investigation after the fire. I'd like you to stand watch just in case Agnes returns from the Grand Theatre. Or someone else decides to wander upstairs, like Veronica.'

'I suppose I can spare about half an hour. After that, I'm going to be busy.'

'I appreciate your help. Thanks.'

'It's fine.'

She continued walking down the driveway with Gavin, glad of his company. The path was calm and quiet. Whispers of sunlight peeped in through the branches on the trees, creating tiny yellow halos. The lad seemed preoccupied. She guessed that his busyness had to do with the girl who always dressed in black, and unexpectedly this disappointed her.  Gavin was okayish; better looking now he'd had a shave. She wouldn't mind taking him shopping and advising him on his choice of style. He was cute in a way, like a large cuddly teddy bear, with dark raisin eyes.

'I don't think Agnes's ill at all,' she said.

'Ill as in ill in the head, or ill as in terminally ill?'  Gavin stopped to face her.  

'As in terminally. It's all lies.'

'Say some more?'

'I think the family made the whole thing up.'

'Why would they do that?'  

'To avoid a scandal.  They got themselves into some trouble.  Or Agnes did, and she went abroad. Or the family told her to go abroad. It's hard to explain. Agnes definitely doesn't come across as someone who's seriously ill. If you didn't know anything about her, you wouldn't guess she was ill, would you?'

Gavin shrugged. 'I don't know.'

'She looks healthy to you, doesn't she?  Very healthy, I heard she gave an outstanding performance at the concert on Saturday night.'

'It still doesn't prove anything, Lucy.'

'It doesn't. But there's something really strange going on. Agnes and the others are keeping secrets. And you yourself said that Lyme House is messing with your head. Yesterday, remember?'

They continued walking. A cooler breeze was blowing, rustling through the leaves, reminding her of a golden Labrador chasing after a Frisbee.  It made her think of Bruce, the German Shepherd.  Ash's dog. Big mad Bruce who liked to follow Ash or her everywhere, ears pointed inquisitively.  She missed him so much.  

'So you're staying in a B & B then?' Gavin said.

'For the rest of the week, maybe longer. It's probably illegal.'

'How's that?'

'The money's mine, but the bank account's in someone else's name. My friends back in Sheffield helped set it up. Everyone thinks I'm eighteen.'

'Be careful.'

'I will.'

'You should hire a private detective.'

'Thanks.  I might well do when I turn eighteen.'

'And when's that?'

'In a few months. February.'

'I'm later. June.  Okay, you'd better stay behind those trees. Hide. I'll go in and see who's around.'
      
She had to wait for about five minutes. She hadn't eaten breakfast at the B & B, just drunk a couple of cups of coffee, and she was hungry and light-headed. From her position behind the tree, she looked around. The car park was empty. The sun had gone in, leaving a chill. She'd only been away a couple of nights, but already the building looked different to her, alien. As if no one had ever lived here before.  A dead building without a soul.

Suddenly, she got the impression that someone was watching her from an upstairs window, looking beyond the clump of tree trunk, directly at her. She peered up, certain that the person was standing there, staring down from the top floor where Agnes was currently staying in a double apartment.  But she couldn't see anyone.