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with her mother when she came home, but he would
always go back upstairs very soon afterwards, and the
visits became fewer and farther between. Eleanor
never came down, and only once or twice were
Margaret and Fran asked to the upstairs flat. Margaret
never complained, and when Fran did, patiently
explained that Uncle Frank s life was different now,
and she couldn t expect him to pay as much attention
to them.
 We were very lucky he was here for us after your
father died, she said,  but we couldn t expect it to go
on for ever.
Fran didn t see why not, but as she cordially
disliked Eleanor, she supposed seeing Frank
infrequently was better than seeing him more often but
with his wife. He did, however, remember his promise
about sending them to Nethergate for half-term, and so
here they were.
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Fran could hear the television downstairs, for when
Frank had bought the cottage, he had installed the
latest television and gramophone, which was good for
Margaret, now she had no company after Fran had
gone to bed. Not that she made Fran go to bed
particularly early on holiday.
Fran got up and went to the window. It was almost
the same view from up here as it was from downstairs.
She could see the little boats bobbing in the harbour,
and somewhere over to her left, the lighthouse
intermittently swept the sea with bright white light to
rival the moon. On the windowsill, two of her very
own china ponies now sat, for this room was now hers
for ever, or so Uncle Frank said. What would happen
when he and Eleanor stayed here, she didn t know,
although she couldn t see why they would, when
Eleanor s parents and brother and sister still lived here.
Why wouldn t they go and stay with them?
She was just going back to bed when she heard the
front door. Turning back to the window, she opened it
and peered out, but was too late to see who had just
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arrived. She couldn t think who it could be, for apart
from a few families they met regularly in the summer,
they knew no one in Nethergate.
But there was no sound of voices other than the
murmur of the television, so she concluded that her
mother must have opened the door for some reason
and went back to bed.
She must have slept, for she awoke suddenly, her
heart beating heavily. For a moment, she was
disoriented, then, as she heard a male voice,
remembered where she was. Uncle Frank? Coming
fully awake, she realised that she shouldn t have heard
his voice, but sure enough, it was his. Sounding angry.
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She sat up and got out of bed, frozen to the spot when
she heard another, less familiar voice screaming.
Something crashed against the outside of her door,
and she heard her mother s cry of pain.
 Mum! She stumbled to the door and pulled it
open.
 No, Fran! Margaret whis pered. She lay on the
floor looking terrified, her arm reaching out to Fran.
Then the screaming started again, almost in her ear,
and she looked up to see Uncle Frank holding Eleanor
by the arms, an Eleanor almost unrecognisable, her
face twisted in fury, one hand still clutching a smashed
china bowl.
It wasn t until much later that Fran remembered that
Margaret had only been wearing a nightdress.
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Chapter Twenty-six
BEFORE SHE MET PETER at Victoria, Fran phoned
Libby.
 What time are you seeing Ben tonight? she asked.
 I needn t see him at all, said Libby, with rare
insight.
 I don t want you putting him off for me, said Fran,
 but I would like to talk to you on your own.
 Get Pete to drop you off at mine, then, and we can
have supper. Ben won t be round till later.
 Are you sure, Lib?
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 Of course I m sure. And I ve got some news for
you, too, assuming this is because you ve got news for
me.
 Well, yes. I think so.
When Fran arrived at Victoria, Peter was already
there, and they were able to make the ten to six train.
Fran was quiet, and Peter, after a quizzical look or two,
left her in peace. Getting back into Canterbury just
before half past seven, Peter dropped Fran outside
number 17 ten minutes later.
 See? he said.  No trouble at all. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]