moments later another voice was at the end of the line:
‘Hi, this is Andee.’
‘Andee, it’s Marianne, Joely’s mum. I’m sorry to be abrupt, but do you know where she is?’
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of her, but I’m guessing she’s at Dimmett House.’
‘If you know where that is, please can you go to check if she’s all right?’
Immediately concerned, Andee said, ‘Yes, of course. Why has something …’
‘I just need to know that she’s OK. Call me back when you … How long will it take you to get there?’
‘About forty-five minutes. I’ll leave now if it’s urgent.’
‘Please – I’d be very grateful if you could. Thank you. I’ll wait to hear from you.’
After ringing off, Marianne tried Joely’s number again. Once more she went straight to voicemail. She turned to stare at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed and stricken, her eyes glittery and wide with fear. It’s all right, she tried telling herself, Andee will be sure to find her then you’ll be able to deal with the rest.
Taking a breath, she unlocked the bathroom door, and pulled it open.
Freda was standing right outside.
CHAPTER TWENTY
As Andee started out to her car she connected to her own mother, Maureen, to let her know that something had come up but she’d be with her as soon as she could. Though Maureen assured her it wasn’t a problem, Andee knew how worried she was about the biopsy results she was expecting tomorrow. She ought to be with her, and she would be, provided Joely turned out to be at the house and nothing untoward had happened.
The drive to Lynton took only forty minutes, most of which passed Andee by in a blur as she worried about her mother, and her daughter, who was having a difficult time at work, and her sister, who was always a concern. She tried Joely’s mobile several times, but knowing there was little or no reception at Dimmett House she wasn’t surprised when she was repeatedly bumped through to voicemail.
When at last she turned into the drive she saw right away that all the shutters were closed, apart from in the tower, and there were no cars to be seen. She pulled up outside the front door and went to press the bell, hearing a distant ring somewhere far deeper inside.
When there was no sound of anything happening, she pressed the bell again and walked along the front of the house whose windows looked like blind eyes, to a covered patio at the base of the tower. There were no shutters here, but the French doors were firmly shut, and not wanting to set off an alarm by trying to force them, she rapped hard with her knuckles while calling out Joely’s name.
‘Hello! Is anyone at home?’ she shouted, knocking again. Cupping her hands around her eyes she peered through to what was clearly a kitchen. No sign of anyone, so she took a few steps back and assessed the upper levels of the tower.
No sign of anyone there either, and everything was silent.
She looked around at the benign and beautiful surroundings, and spotting a trail running through the long grass of the meadow she decided, in the interests of being thorough, to follow it.
It took only a couple of minutes to reach an incline that sloped in rugged tiers down to a small sandy beach. There were only the tide’s latest offerings to see on the sand that nestled between the huge, imposing cliffs rising up either side of the cove.
Turning back to the house, Andee checked her phone, and seeing she had no signal she decided to cut diagonally across the meadow back to her car.
Before leaving she pressed the doorbell again, several times, but she was clearly wasting her time. There was no one at home.
Joely was coming awake, stiff and cold, head throbbing, threads of music still seeming trapped in her ears. They’d begun to echo on long after the concert had ceased, weaving through her mind and her dreams, as present and persistent as the reality of silence.
She sat up, pressed her hands to her face and tried to make herself think. Before the last musical onslaught she’d remembered the photograph she’d found in the table drawer the day she’d arrived at Dimmett House. A small girl with two boys either side of her. She’d come to the conclusion that it must be the real young Freda with her brothers. Christopher and David.
Freda was Sir’s sister.
The music was