Isobel’s belligerent tone broke the mood. Sophy knew she had overheard part of the conversation too and was probably wondering why her mother wasn’t dancing with joy at Victor’s proposal.
It made perfect sense to move into Mount Eagle but Jack’s resistance to the proposal would be the biggest obstacle to overcome. The afternoon had affected her more than she had realised and Hyland Hall seemed even more dilapidated when she drove into the courtyard. What made Jack cling so tenaciously to its jaded shabbiness? She glanced into the rearview mirror. Her daughters’ expressions mirrored her own discontent.
Charlie had been walking in the woods with Caesar. He entered the kitchen, the dog bounding ahead of him and almost knocking Sophy over. The girls fled to the den. Nothing would convince them that Caesar was as tame as Peeper and just as capable of being loved. Jack had been in fine form all afternoon, Charlie said. They had played chess and reminisced about their younger days.
When she entered his room, he was nodding sleepily in his armchair, a woollen hat covering his wrinkled scalp.
‘Did you have a nice lunch?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Victor has a magnificent house.’
‘I believe so.’
‘You’ve never been in it?’
‘I’ve better things to do with my time.’
She bit back a reply. Now was not the time to discuss Victor’s offer.
The girls were still talking about their afternoon when she said goodnight to them. Charlie had organised twin beds for them and the old fourposter had been dismantled and moved into the annexe. Cordelia, propped against the pillows, was sitting in her usual place beside Julie.
Sophy sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned Isobel over to join them. ‘I don’t know if Mr Hyland will want to move into Victor’s house.’ It was best to be honest with them and not get their hopes up. ‘Will it upset you very much if we’re unable to move into Mount Eagle?’
‘Ab-so-lute-ly.’ Isobel smacked her lips with exaggerated determination. ‘This place is a dump.’
‘What about you, Julie?’
‘It’s a mus-lemon.’ Julie looked as though she was stroking a silky moustache as she ran her finger over her upper lip and threw the words at Cordelia.
‘I don’t want to talk to Cordelia tonight.’ Sophy snuggled her in her arms. ‘Tell me what you think.’
‘Well, it’s okay here, really. You mustn’t cry, Mammy, if Mr Hyland says no.’
‘I’ll cry,’ said Isobel. ‘And I’ll scream as loudly as a banshee.’
‘A banshee?’ Julie’s eyelashes fluttered.
‘Stop it, Isobel. Banshees don’t exist, Julie. They’re just stories. I’m going to talk to Mr Hyland and I’ll do my best to persuade him to move. I’ve no idea if he’ll agree and I don’t want any scenes if he says no. Understood?’
They nodded, Julie solemnly, Isobel with reluctance.
‘Goodnight, girls,’ she said. ‘Sleep well—’
‘And don’t let the bugs bite,’ Julie squeaked.
Her comment about Cordelia and metaphors before leaving Mount Eagle worried Sophy. Was Cordelia a channel for her younger daughter’s thoughts, her only means to process the loss and events engulfing them? Looking at Julie’s shining hair and the mannequin’s artificial tresses, both almost identical shades of blonde, her uneasiness grew. Julie had loved dressing the mannequin and displaying her in the front window of Kid’s Chic. She had changed her wigs regularly and had enjoyed the effects she could achieve with different hair shades. Lately, the blonde wig was the only one Cordelia wore.
They needed to move away from this foreboding house. Any change came with its own set of difficulties but Sophy had proved that a new beginning was always possible.
Chapter Eight
Isobel
The grandfather clock was striking midnight when Isobel left her bedroom. She hesitated in the hall and checked to see if there was a tell-tale strip of light shining under the door of the music room where her mum relaxed at night when The Recluse was in bed. It was in darkness, as was her mother’s bedroom. Isobel waited until the twelve booms ended before moving across the hall.
A pool of darkness lay before her at the top of the stairs. She had decided to fight her fear and no longer cared that she was about to break the most important rule The Recluse had laid down. All that mattered was finding out what she could about this stranger who was controlling their lives.
Living with him was like sharing her life with a ghost. His existence was only made visible by the trays of food her mother carried up to him and his tablets in their bubble shapes that