How are we going to treat that person? How are we going to treat each other? How are we going to make up for the things we have thought unjustly, the things we’ve said and can’t take back and can’t forget?” She frowned very slightly. “How are we going to live with the knowledge of what we have seen in each other this last week that is ugly and self-serving and cowardly, but we hadn’t ever had reason to see before? I know you better than I ever wanted to, Mal; and I don’t like all of it.”
He was angry, but much more deeply than that, he was hurt. He tried to find something to say to justify himself, and nothing was good enough.
She must have seen the wound in him. “It isn’t over yet,” she said with a little shrug. “You can always change … if you want to. At least … maybe you can.”
“I don’t want anyone to be guilty,” he said stiffly, his cheeks pink. “But I must face the truth. Confession and repentance are the only way back. I know I didn’t kill her, therefore it was either Dominic or Father … or you! And why on earth would you kill her?”
“I wouldn’t.” She lowered her eyes, and her face was full of confusion and fear. “Will you let me pass, please? You are blocking the way, and I want to go and see Papa.”
“What for?” he asked. “You can’t help. And don’t go in there telling him comfortable lies. It will only make it worse in the end.”
Suddenly she lost her temper, swinging around on him furiously. “I’m not going to tell him anything, except that I love him! It is a pity that you can’t do that! You would be a lot more use to everyone if you could!” And she whirled away, banging her elbow against the newel, and oblivious of it, marched across the landing to the far corridor and up to Ramsay’s door. She threw it open without knocking and disappeared inside.
“Perhaps you had better go and read another book,” Dominic said acidly. “Try the Bible. You could look for the bit which says ‘A new commandment I give, that ye love one another’!” And he started down the stairs towards the hall.
He met Vita coming out of the morning room with a bowl of hyacinths in her hands. She stopped in front of him, her eyes steady, wide and searching. He knew she must have overheard at least some of the quarrel, if only the raised voices.
“They’re getting dry in here,” she said pointlessly, not looking at the hyacinths. “I suppose it’s the fire. I think I should put them back in the conservatory for a while. Maybe there’s something else in there that would do.” She started to walk across the hall, and he went after her.
“May I carry that for you?”
She passed the bowl to him, and together they went into the conservatory. She closed the glass doors and led him to the garden end, where there were other pots of flowers on the bench. He put the hyacinths down.
“How much longer is it going to go on?” she said softly. She looked close to tears, as if she were mastering herself only with difficulty. “It is breaking us, Dominic!”
“I know.” He longed to be able to help. He could feel her pain and fear in the air as tangibly as the scent of the winter lilies and the paper-whites.
“You were quarreling with Mallory, weren’t you?” She spoke still looking down at the flowers.
“Yes. But it was nothing important, just nerves getting both of us.”
She turned and smiled at him, but there was reproof in her expression. “That’s kind of you, Dominic,” she said gently. “But I know that is not true. Please don’t try to protect me. I can see what is happening to us. We are frightened of the police, frightened of each other … frightened of what we may learn which will change the world we know forever.” She closed her eyes tightly; her voice trembled. “Something has started which we cannot stop, cannot control, and none of us can see the end of it. Sometimes I am so afraid I feel as if my heart will stop.”
What could he possibly say or do that would not make it worse, sound stupid or insensitive, offer false comfort neither of them believed?
“Vita!” He used her Christian name without realizing it. “There is only one thing we