she got up and sat by the window looking out over the city, wishing she’d never come here. Imagine if she’d come with Yul! She shook her head at the thought; the two men would’ve been at each other’s throats within minutes, the thin veneer of civilisation dissolved by their long-standing mutual hatred. The ordeal she’d endured in the theatre, keeping quiet for the sake of her daughter who’d have been devastated to miss the ballet, was horrendous and sickening and she felt ashamed of herself for not putting a stop to it. Why had she let him do that?
But worse still – far worse – was the knowledge that her terrible dream was actually a memory. Buzz really had come into the nursing home and assaulted her whilst she lay drugged up to the eyeballs and strapped to her bed. How had it been allowed to happen? Had he talked his way in or maybe even bribed someone? And tonight – how had he known which seats they’d have? Or that they’d be there at all? And the hotel – how had Buzz known about that? For he’d deftly found them a taxi after the performance and told the driver where to take them.
It suddenly occurred to her – the bouquet must be from him too! She grabbed the card and re-read it in the orange sodium light glaring into the room, shuddering at the true meaning the message carried. And then she started thinking of all the implications of what had happened, both tonight and four years ago in her private hospital room. After all these years Buzz was still bent on revenge for his banishment. And somebody at Stonewylde, somebody who knew her well, had been feeding him with the details to do it. Somebody whose intent was absolutely malicious. The thought made her blood run cold.
On the train home the next day Sylvie sat silently staring out as the heathland of east Dorset turned to the hills of the west, the landscape changing gradually but dramatically. She’d been unable to eat the delicious buffet breakfast that Celandine had devoured so enthusiastically and was now feeling sick and exhausted. Her daughter chattered non-stop, reliving the whole experience – the shops, her new shoes, the hotel and meals, and most of all, the ballet. Sylvie realised she was fighting with a decision and, much as she hated it, would have to ask Celandine to lie. She’d toyed with the idea of telling Yul everything but knew he’d explode with rage and probably do something rash and dangerous.
‘Darling, I know we don’t normally keep secrets from each other in the family but I’m going to ask you to be very grown up and understand something important.’
Celandine fixed her with an intent stare, her eyes as deep grey as her father’s and just as intelligent.
‘It’s about that man in the theatre, isn’t it?’
‘Yes! How did you know?’
‘You didn’t like him even though he was very polite and kind. I didn’t realise at first as I was watching the ballet. But you wouldn’t look at him and you were all stiff and quiet.’
‘That’s right and I didn’t like him being there but I couldn’t make a fuss in front of all those people and spoil the ballet. You see, he used to live at Stonewylde a long time ago, when Father and I were still young like Auntie Leveret is now. He and your father really hated each other and had a terrible fight. Magus, the man in charge at the time, banished him from Stonewylde. And that man has never forgiven your father and still blames him for it. So if Father knew he was there last night he’d be so, so cross I don’t know what he’d do.’
‘We don’t want him any crosser than he already is, do we?’ said Celandine. ‘He’s bad enough now, always grumpy and he doesn’t even sleep in our rooms any more. Does he still love us, Mum?’
‘Oh yes darling. But he’s not very happy at the moment. So please don’t mention anything about that man when we get back. I hate asking you to not tell the truth but I don’t want your father to be angry and upset.’
‘That’s fine, Mum. I understand and I won’t say anything at all about him. What’s his name anyway?’
‘Buzz, short for Buzzard.’
‘I’ve never actually liked buzzards much – they’re predators, you know.’
19
There was something wrong at the heart of Stonewylde, and like a malignant disease it