Chapter 19
It was Marnie’s turn to go up to Lilian’s for lunch the next day. She hadn’t slept very well at all, but it was less to do with the heat and more to do with Herv Gunnarsen about to ask her if she wanted to go to the pictures. Although, thinking about it in bed, maybe she’d been a bit ahead of herself; what if he’d merely wanted to tell her that there was a horror film showing, and wasn’t proposing he take her to see it? In which case, she’d made a proper tit of herself. Anyway, whether she’d got it right or wrong, she’d probably scared him off for good with her Linford Christie sprint away from him. She was, therefore, quite relieved that he waved at her from across the slope of lawn when she approached the front door of the manor as if there was nothing untoward between them. She hadn’t murdered his ego, after all; she wouldn’t have wanted to do that. And, if he had been about to ask her out, she’d saved him from her blunt refusal by cutting him off at the pass, giving them both the opportunity to keep things platonic and safe and uncomplicated. It was for the best, really it was.
Cilla was in the hallway filling up a vase with roses when she walked in.
‘Morning, Marnie,’ she smiled, full of beans.
Marnie knew that when Cilla was happy, all was good with Lilian.
‘She’s waiting for you in the conservatory.’
‘Thank you, Cilla,’ she replied.
But something wasn’t quite right, she could feel it as soon as she had stepped over the threshold. It was as if the manor had its own moods and they coloured the ambience. Marnie had grown to love the old house and its quirkiness. She loved the old gentleman’s smoking room that was now a snug where Lilian liked to listen to music, and the breakfast room with its floor-to-ceiling windows that made the most of the morning sunshine. She loved the tower and the library full of beautiful leather-bound volumes and hundreds of Lilian’s paperbacks and the magnificent drawing room full of Lilian’s precious broken-mended treasures. The manor’s personality was always very much in evidence, as if it were made up of layers of all its best times. It never felt cold or hostile and despite its size, Marnie knew why Lilian was happy to reside in it alone. But the manor was less like a house and more like a living thing with emotions (and yes, Marnie knew that was bonkers). Today, the manor felt worried. There was something threatening, an electric portent. Just as the skies outside were warning of thunder.
‘Marnie, dear, Marnie, come on in,’ yelled Lilian, sitting at the table by the conservatory window. ‘What an odd day, don’t you think? There’s quite a storm brewing and the view is spectacular when that happens. It’s better from the tower, of course. I always used to go up there when there was a thunderstorm. At least when Mother wasn’t fornicating with her doctor. The heavy air has given me quite a headache. I’ve had two of those little tablets shaped like bullets and it hasn’t made a scrap of difference. Now you are here, I bet it disappears in an instant. So, what have you been up to since, when did I see you last. Christmas?’
‘Tuesday,’ said Marnie, not sure if Lilian was joking or not.
‘Was it only Tuesday? It feels like much longer. Let’s have some lunch and then I think we’ll go boating on the lake before it freezes over. It once froze enough for us to skate on and we invited the children who were in the village to come and slide with us. One of the few happy memories I have of my childhood. Now, tell me what flavours you’re going to do next week for the place we cannot mention.’ She placed a shushing finger against her lips and Marnie sat and began to tell her about the next cheesecake order, but she noticed that Lilian was finding it hard to concentrate and kept asking her to repeat what she’d just said.
She couldn’t eat anything either. Not even Cilla’s cheese pastries which were her absolute favourite. She kept pressing at her temple with her knuckle and despite saying she was all right, she obviously wasn’t.
‘Lilian, shall I go and get you some more tablets?’ Marnie asked.
‘Titus shouldn’t have mocked Margaret Kytson. I knew no good would come of it. It’s disturbed her spirit. She will be walking amongst us again and who can blame her.’
Marnie didn’t mention that she’d seen the Pink Lady in the gallery last night, but she felt something unpleasant trip down her spine.
‘Don’t tell Father that we’re taking a boat out,’ Lilian looked over her shoulder. ‘He’s not in a good mood at all.’
Marnie was worried now, plus she thought that Lilian’s colour had changed since she arrived. She looked so dreadfully pale. Lilian needed a doctor; no, an ambulance, her intuition said. She got up from the seat to ask Cilla to ring for one, on the quiet because she knew that Lilian would protest.
‘I’ll go and get you those tablets,’ she said, but before she took a step, Lilian made a grab for her hand.
‘I’m so glad I found you, Marnie.’ And then tears began to pour down Lilian’s face as if a pump was behind them. Marnie wrapped her arms around the old lady, who held on to her with the force of one afraid of falling.
Cilla arrived with dessert and the smile she had been previously wearing dropped like a stone. Calmly, so as not to frighten Lilian, Marnie mouthed at her to get an ambulance and Cilla turned on her heel, the creaks on the floorboards telling of her haste.
‘Would you like to lie down, Lilian? Do you think that might help your headache?’ suggested Marnie, her voice low and gentle.
‘I wish I’d taken care of Wychwell more,’ said Lilian, sniffing hard. ‘There’s so much to do.’
‘I think Wychwell is perfect as it is,’ said Marnie, as Lilian increased her grip. ‘This damned headache,’ she said, knocking her temple hard with her knuckles. Marnie could feel tears soaking through her shirt.
‘Cilla’s gone to find something to help you get rid of it,’ said Marnie, holding her, trying not to let her worry show.
‘Marnie, don’t leave me.’
‘I’m not going anywhere. Shhh.’
‘Don’t let them take me there again.’ Lilian sounded frightened.
‘Where, darling?’
‘There.’
‘No one is taking you anywhere, I promise.’
Lilian’s crying was that of someone in the grip of true panic. This really was something Marnie hadn’t seen in her before. Then she started to mutter gibberish, none of it making sense, words but not words. And all the while Marnie tried to soothe her, talk away whatever was troubling her and when Lilian’s crying stopped, Marnie thought she’d managed to finally calm her. Her breath against Marnie’s neck began easing. Then there was no breath at all.
Marnie would always remember the last sigh of air against her skin, the moment when Lilian left them. Sense told her it was a mere exhalation; her heart told her it was Lilian’s spirit whispering away from her body. Marnie went into automatic pilot. She screamed for Herv, for Cilla. She put Lilian on the floor, tilted back her head, attempted to breathe her own life into her. Then everything became a speeded-up blur: Herv and Cilla and the paramedics pouring into the room. Herv’s arms peeling her gently away, holding her and Cilla as the medics went into action. But Lilian had gone, her eyes said she wouldn’t be brought back because she had moved on to somewhere else and the door had closed behind her. Marnie remembered the paramedics looking at each other, agreeing to stop, checking their watches, saying that the time was twelve forty-one. She remembered Lionel racing over the front lawn in the pouring rain just as Lilian was being placed in the ambulance. She remembered him taking off his glasses to wipe the tears streaming from his eyes.