Chapter Thirty.

When Maisie found me some time later, I was sitting, cold and rigid in the corner of the room, fists clenched on my knees. She crept in, white-faced, and knelt down beside me, taking my hand.

'Have they gone?' I muttered.

'Yes, they've gone.'

'It's not true, Maisie,' I whispered, finding her eyes. They were huge and frightened. 'I wouldn't leave them alone, you know I wouldn't.'

'I know that, 1 know,' she soothed. 'It's all been a terrible mistake, and it's all going to be fine.'

'It's not going to be fine, they're going to take my children away!' My voice rose to a shrill crescendo. 'That's what they said, isn't it? That's what they've just told you, that's what they want to do!'

'No, no, they just said well,' she faltered, fighting for calm, her face buckling, 'for us to look after them, at the moment. In the interim. I well, I couldn't really take it all in, couldn't take in what they were saying, thought it was some sort of nightmare. I kept listening to her voice, watching herface, but couldn't really ... Something about a care order, because of Rose's death, because the fire-'

'Oh G.o.d, that's not going to happen, is it? Tell me that won't happen!' I shrieked hysterically, standing up now, tears streaming down my face. 'They can't do that, can they, Maisie?'

'No no, of course they can't, darling, of course not!' She reached up and seized my hands, her lip trembling, eyes desperate.

I gazed down at her, kneeling there on the floor, all my terror concentrated on the naked fear in her face.

'You think they can, don't you?' I whispered. 'You think they'll take Ben into care, because of what he did. Take out a pen and tick some ghastly box on a form in the town hall you think they have that power!'

'I I don't know, I don't know,' she wailed, dropping my hands and wringing hers in despair. 'I wish Lucas was here. They said such terrible things! Said you left them to spend the night with a married man, in a pub.' She looked up at me, very old suddenly, very confused. 'Well I told them that wouldn't be true. Not my Lucy.'

I hung my head. 'That much was true. But Maisie, I couldn't do it. I met the wife and oh G.o.d, it's a long, awful story, and anyway, it doesn't make me an unfit mother! It doesn't mean I'd leave my children surrounded by home-made fireworks, let them set light to the house!'

'Of course it doesn't,' she said staunchly, getting quickly to her feet. 'But . ' her face fretted into anxious lines again. 'Why would she say those things?'

'Rose?'

'Yes, why would she lie? All those things, in that book.'

'I don't know!' I wailed, spinning round, shooting my hands into my hair in despair. I paced around the room. 'I don't know why she'd do it. Did she hate me so much? Was I such a G.o.d-awful daughter-in-law? I mean Christ, she was the one who got me down there in the first place, converted the barn so sumptuously, wanted me right there on her doorstep, so I just don't know why- yes.' I suddenly stopped by the bay window. Stared fixedly at the cherry tree in the front garden. 'Yes, I do.' I swung around to face Maisie. 'She wanted my children. Wanted them without me. She wanted them for herself.'

'No!' Maisie took a step towards me. 'No, she wouldn't be that wicked!'

'She would,' I whispered, my mind racing.

'But she was so kind to you, took you in. I know Rose, she wouldn't-'

'Oh, but she would, Maisie, she would,' I breathed, darting forward and taking her hands, shaking them. Her face was one of mute bewilderment, but my mind was on fire, spinning like a kaleidoscope, shedding scattered shards of light.

'Oh yes, she wanted them all right.' I dropped her hands and paced the room again, biting my thumbnail, working it through. 'But she wanted them on her terms, up at her house, Netherby, not down at the barn with me. Not separated like that, but in the bosom of her family, without me ... Yes, her grandsons, to bring up as she saw fit, because, let's face it, that's what she'd wanted all along, why she asked me there in the first place. I knew then I wasn't the glittering attraction, I just didn't know how far she'd go ... Ned's boys, you see.

Not mine, Ned's, and now that she's dead, no one will know the truth. And she was clever, too. Some of the things she wrote in that book were true Max falling in the river others downright lies, but sprinkled with grains of truth... well. They'll think like you, that no one could be so wicked; no one could possibly do that. But I know she could. I know she had it in her.' I sank down into the sofa, appalled, exhausted. 'I know it!'

I thought back to London, when Ned had died. Rose, always on the phone, turning the screw. Pushing me to admit I was cracking up, that I couldn't cope. Couldn't cope with the boys. She'd wanted them then. Wanted custody. Way back then.

Maisie came and sat beside me, her face white, frightened. 'Darling, it's too monstrous, too-'

'Ben!' I sat up suddenly, startling my mother with my gasp of inspiration, knocking a lamp over as I got to my feet, but it came to me with absolute clarity.

'Maisie, where's Ben? I must talk to him' I darted out of the room. 'This could all be sorted out if I could just get my b.l.o.o.d.y son to open up, get him to speak!'

'No, Lucy, he's not-'

'I don't care if he's ready, or how b.l.o.o.d.y sensitive he is' I darted into the kitchen. Heard Maisie's voice calling me back. But the kitchen was empty. Deserted. I spun around in terror.

'Maisie, where are the boys? Ben!' I bellowed, tearing back into the hall, shrieking up the stairs as I gripped the posts. 'Ben!! Maisie, they haven't taken them, have they? They haven't-'

'Lucy, it's all right.' She came running out of the sitting room, colliding with me in the doorway as I rocketed through. She seized my shoulders. 'Lucas took them out, it's fine! I tried to tell you, but you're so wound up. It's fine, now calm down!'

'Lucas?'

'Yes!'

We stood staring at one another for a moment. Then I bent my head, put my face in my hands and sobbed. She put her arms around me. Helplessly, I let her guide me into the kitchen, let her sit me down at the table. Her arm was still round my shoulders as I sat, weeping.

'When the police were talking to you,' she said quietly, 'Ben went very pale and shot out into the back garden. We couldn't find him for a while, but then Lucas found him quivering behind the shed. He's taken them to the park, for an ice cream.'

'To the park!' I turned my tear-stained face to her. 'Oh, but he'll watch him, won't he, Maisie? If Ben's worried, you know, scared by the police arriving, and what he's told them, he might ...' What might he do? Run away? I thought frantically. Would he? It would never, ever have occurred to me before. I couldn't imagine him anywhere except right by my side, with his little brother, but now, with all these cataclysmic events I found I didn't know. Didn't know how my tucked-up boy, who revealed so little, would react. If Lucas's back was turned, buying lollies at the van, given half a chance, would he . .

'He'll watch him,' Maisie a.s.sured me fiercely. 'Of course he will, and they'll be back in a minute, you can talk to Ben then. Have it out with him.'

I nodded.

'And we must stop panicking,' she said firmly. 'That's not going to get us anywhere. Getting hysterical is not going to help our case.'

'No.' I looked at her, wide-eyed. Horrified I had a case to answer.

We fell silent.

'Maisie, it was probably just a little prank that went wrong, don't you think? The fire starting like that. I mean, surely-'

'Of course it was,' she said staunchly. 'Little boys and matches, heavens, I remember when your brother was small, he- Oh!'

She stopped as the doorbell rang. We stared at one another. 'Not Lucas,' I breathed.

'No, he took a key.'

'Oh Maisie, let's not answer it,' I pleaded, holding her arm. 'It'll be them again. She said they were coming; let's pretend we're not here. Let's wait for Ben to get back, wait till I've talked to him. Face them when we've got some answers!'

She gazed at me, and I could tell she was tempted. She hesitated, then got up and smoothed down her painter's smock.

'No. No, that's not the way we do things, is it, Luce? Lying and hiding. That's never been our style. Hold your head up and just answer truthfully. It's all going to be fine'

She went down the hall to answer the door. I waited, numbly, at the table. Heard the door open as if in a dream. I could imagine them already, on the step. Young, earnest. Him with a beard, her, no make-up, thick eyebrows, gla.s.ses. No children of their own, of course, and no idea of what bringing up two children on your own is actually like, but oh, so full of ideals. Timid-looking, possibly, but don't let that fool you. Br.i.m.m.i.n.g with steely determination to right the wrongs of the world. Interviewing mothers much less fortunate than me, in highrise flats, demanding to know why a child was still in yesterday's filthy nappy, or why, at two o'clock, the breakfast things were still on the table, the older children not at school. Why the mother was still in her dressing gown, looking so unkempt, so depressed? And I thought of the times in London, when I'd felt myself slipping into that quicksand, conscious I might not actually get up that morning, knowing that might be possible. In Chelsea. Royal Avenue. Because it didn't have to be a tenement flat in Hackney. But I hadn't. I'd gritted my teeth, hauled myself up, put the sandwiches in the lunch-boxes, and gone on. Gone on for them, knowing I might have given up if it had just been me. How many times could these people have called then, and found me in a heap? Legitimately have had cause to worry about my children? Yet now, four years on, when I'd battled through ...

If they took them, I'd kill myself, I decided quite matter of factly. In fact it came to me with such astonishing clarity, it was quite a comfort. Of course, it was as simple as that. I couldn't go on without the children, so I'd just take some pills or something. Go to sleep. And with that, really rather rea.s.suring thought in mind, I braced myself to meet this pair. This duo from the Social Services Department. Braced myself to answer their impertinent, intrusive questions.

I heard Maisie walk back down the corridor with them, her voice m.u.f.fled. Male voices responded as she opened the kitchen door to show them in. It was Jack and David.

'Oh!' I stood up, relief and confusion flooding through me. Glancing quickly at Maisie's face, I realised she'd already briefed them on the doorstep. Despite the relief, I felt a rush of shame at what they knew, even though I had no cause. I couldn't look at Jack.

'Lucy,' David quickly crossed the room and took my hands. 'Ghastly for you. I'm so sorry you've had to go through this.'

'But but it won't happen, David, will it?' I babbled. 'We all know that. You you both know me,' I dared to look at Jack, 'and you both know Ben, you know it couldn't have happened like that. And you'll tell them, won't you, you'll all tell them Archie, Lavinia, Pinkie, all of you that what Rose did, what she said-'

'Sit down, Lucy,' said Jack gently, interrupting my gibbering and pulling a chair up for me.

I sat, and realised I was trembling. I held onto the table; gripped the oilcloth top, as he sat beside me. Maisie and David perched opposite.

'Lucy, what David and I have to tell you,' Jack hesitated. 'Well, half of it you know already, but the reason why it all happened, I'm not so sure.'

'What do I know?' I glanced at David. 'I don't know anything! All I know is Rose wanted my children, that she tried to frame me, gave false statements to the police. It's as simple as that!'

Jack nodded. 'That much we do know.'

'You do?' I gasped. 'For sure?'

'Oh definitely.'

'Oh thank G.o.d!' I flopped back in my chair. Stared at him. 'She wanted to discredit you, show you up as an unfit mother. And to that end she kept a detailed log of all the times the children were left alone-'

'But I didn't b.l.o.o.d.y leave them alone!'

'No, but if they were left in her care, she'd pretend she wasn't consulted. Or if she'd lent you Trisha, she'd call her back unexpectedly to work with Joan in the kitchen, which left the boys alone in the barn.'

'Christ! Did she?'

'And then she'd go and get them of course, like the responsible grandmother she was. And write it all down. Monday ... collected boys ... alone in the barn ... shameful. And of course she kept a very close eye on you and Charlie Fletcher.'

'But - how the h.e.l.l did she know about him? I thought no one knew!'

'Oh, Rose made it her business to know everything. And when you and Charlie met at her party, she couldn't believe her luck. She gleefully tracked your progress, waiting for her chance, waiting for you to spend the night with him, for the affair to get out of hand. And she was delighted when the chance presented itself so fortuitously when you went out, forgetting to tell the boys where they were sleeping. For some reason - and we still don't know why - the boys went to bed on their own. That's when Rose crept down and started the fire.'

'Rose started it!'

'Oh yes, definitely. In the kitchen, apparently, in a rubbish bin. Just a small fire, you know, with some comics and matches, something the boys could have done, and something she could easily have put out later. And reported to the authorities, in shocked tones.'

'Hang on, hang on,' I clutched my head. 'She said she started it? You mean she told you all this?'

David nodded. 'Just before she died. Sometime after her previous, fict.i.tious statement to the police.'

'Oh!' I seized Lucas's cigarettes on the table and lit one, sucking away at it furiously.

'Anyway, she started the fire, making it look like the boys' doing, but as she was making her way back to Netherby to raise the alarm, she looked back and saw to her horror that the fire had already taken hold. That far from a little smouldering in the kitchen, there was already smoke billowing out of a downstairs window. Horrified, she ran back, and found that the plastic lining of the bin had gone up with a whoosh, and caught the banisters behind. They were on fire. She panicked, started to throw buckets of water around, but it was no good. The wooden work surfaces and cupboards were burning, smoke was everywhere, and it was out of control. She started running from the sink to the stairs with heavy pails of water but it did b.u.g.g.e.r all. Panicking, she ran upstairs, but her foot went through the staircase where the flames were licking through from underneath. She tugged free and stumbled on, but the smoke had got into the bedrooms and she was in such a state, she forgot where the boys' rooms were. In the thick fug, she turned the wrong way, ran along the corridor, opening airing cupboards, your bedroom door, fanning the flames, making it worse.'

'But the boys sleep together, at the far end,' I breathed.

He nodded. 'Exactly. So she had to turn round and go back past the blazing staircase to the other side of the gallery. She found them huddled behind Ben's bed, hands over their mouths, terrified. She grabbed them and ran back with them to the staircase, but by now the fire had really taken hold. It was quite impa.s.sable.'

'Oh G.o.d.'

'So Rose, and two small boys, coughing and gasping in their pyjamas, simply went backwards. They holed up in the boys' bedroom again, huddled behind the bed, with no plan of action, except, apparently, Rose started to pray.'

'Christ,' I muttered. I put my head in my hands. Imagined the scene. Slowly I looked up, aghast.

'David, are you telling me that that's how badly she wanted custody of my boys? That she'd do that? Go to those lengths?'

David hesitated. 'It went wrong, of course, disastrously wrong. But yes, she wanted them at all costs.'

'Without me?'

'Well no, not initially. Initially she wanted you, but she was nervous you wouldn't stay. She spoke to you, Lucy, came down and had it out with you - remember? I picked her up, in the car. She was desperate for you to stay on at the barn, but she wasn't satisfied you would. After all she'd done for you, it seemed you weren't entirely happy. Seemed you might be moving on, taking her precious boys with you. She thought bitterly of all the plans she'd made, all the money she'd spent on the barn, how she'd planned to educate them, the important families she'd introduce them to, circles they'd move in, girls they'd meet when they were older, and now, just on a whim, it seemed she could lose them. Lose control. Control was so important to Rose. And family, of course, was everything.'

'As it is to me, too!'

'Yes, but we're talking family with a capital F, here. Benstood to inherit, Lucy. He was heir to Netherby.'

'Ben?'

'Of course. Hector had gone, for ever in Archie's eyes, Ned was dead, Ben was the eldest male.'

'But - not Lavinia?'

'Certainly not,' snorted David. 'No, no, in the Fellowes family, the females only inherit in absolute extremis, if all male lines are totally extinguished. The male line is all. Rose knew that.'

'Although what Rose didn't know,' said Jack quietly, 'is that Ben would never inherit anyway. Archie would never have let him.'

I stared.

'Why not?' said Maisie.

There was a silence. Jack looked at David. David's eyes turned, slowly, like headlamps, onto me.

'I think you know, don't you, Lucy?'

I didn't, but as I gazed back at him, the wheels of my mind whirred like a propeller starting up. It seemed to me all those shards of light, all those tiny pieces of the kaleidoscope, were spinning, not out of control, but back into place. 1 gazed at this handsome, elderly face before me... at his high brow, his kind mouth, that nose ... not the eyes, necessarily, too grey, but his hands, definitely. Clasped on the table. So familiar. I nodded, slowly, amazed. Amazed it hadn't occurred to me before.

'Yes, I see,' I breathed.