‘new beginnings’ and ‘it’s no one’s fault’ were just that — words. They weren’t a cure, weren’t magical potions that could make her feel any better. She had lifted Peeper down from his favourite spot against the back window where he was dozing and ran her fingers through his fur. His purring had rippled against her lap as her mother started the engine on a car that must have been designed for hobbits. Looking out the window, it seemed to Isobel as if Park View Villas, where she had lived since she was born, was holding its breath until the Kingston family disappeared around the corner and life could return to normal.
Chapter Four
Sophy
Alone at last once the girls had gone to bed, Sophy tidied up the kitchen and opened a second door at the far end of the room. This led into an annexe that had been added to the original building and gave the back of the house an L-shape. It must have been used as a changing area for the jockeys and grooms who once worked in the stables. Shower stalls were discoloured and broken, as were the urinals, and the toilets in a smaller bathroom where the sign Ladies was barely visible. This space had become a hoarding area for old furniture that had broken and been deemed beyond repair.
Returning to the kitchen, she switched off the light and was heading towards her bedroom when she heard a noise from outside. She tensed, her fear rising as the isolation of her surroundings bore down on her.
She hurried towards the music room. Peering out, she watched as headlights swept over the bushes in the courtyard. An engine was cut and the courtyard was plunged into darkness. An automatic outside light switched on and revealed a figure walking swiftly towards the steps. She glanced around the room for a weapon. Her eyes lit on the companion set beside the old-fashioned fireplace. She grasped the poker and carried it out to the hall. The intruder had a key and was intent on entering the house. She was standing with the poker raised when the hall door opened and a man entered. He looked equally startled to see her.
‘What are you doing here?’ Sophy spoke with an authority she was far from feeling.
‘I could ask you the same thing,’ he replied. ‘But I’ll afford you the courtesy of answering your question first. My name is Victor Coyne. My uncle is Jack Hyland.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Feeling foolish and embarrassed, Sophy lowered the poker and propped it against the grandfather clock. ‘Mr Hyland didn’t tell me to expect you. I’m Sophy Kingston, his nurse.’ She held out her hand then quickly withdrew it when she noticed it was covered with soot.
‘Are you from the hospital?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m a private nurse, hired by Mr Hyland to look after him.’
‘Really?’ His dark eyebrows lifted. ‘When was this arrangement made?’
‘Two weeks ago.’
‘I see.’ He nodded, obviously perplexed. ‘Do you mind if I sit down?’ Evidently familiar with the layout of the house, he walked ahead of her into the kitchen. Dressed casually in a pale blue, open-neck shirt, indigo jeans and ankle boots, he lounged back on one of the kitchen chairs and crossed his feet. ‘I’ve been keeping a regular check on Hyland Hall ever since my uncle was admitted to hospital,’ he said. ‘I was convinced vandals had broken into the house when I saw your car outside.’
‘Your uncle didn’t tell you to expect me?’
‘No, he didn’t. To be honest, Ms Kingston, I’ve absolutely no idea what you’re doing here.’
‘I told you already. I’m here to look after your uncle when he’s discharged from hospital.’
‘But that isn’t going to happen. My uncle is being transferred into a specialist nursing home.’
‘That’s not possible.’ Her fear had been replaced by a growing uneasiness. It was always there, the feeling that something had to go wrong. She had expected their departure to be fraught with difficulties but it had all been too easily organised in the aftermath of her meeting with Vivian Ford. ‘Mr Hyland made no mention of that when he interviewed me.’
‘Interviewed you. How was that possible?’
‘We spoke by phone.’
‘Were you able to communicate with him?’ His puzzled expression deepened.
‘I’d some difficulty initially but I was able to make out what he needs. We’ve exchanged letters. Everything was made perfectly clear to me.’
‘Yet he never mentioned that he was going into a nursing home?’ He tapped his fingers on the table. They were long and