Page 27 of The Perfect Guests
As before, the hall is deserted. She stands at its center, trying to catch her breath, and when she stares, wide-eyed, back up the staircase, there’s nothing to be seen. No ghost, no sinister, shadowy figure...What on earth was I thinking?A rumble of conversation drifts from the dining room; dishes clank in the kitchen. She presses her hand against her chest and waits for her heart rate to settle.
It was probably an animal, that’s all. A fox, maybe, or a bird, that found a route into the once-abandoned house and returns to scavenge now. She draws herself up, trying to summon her former confidence, her sense of amused appreciation at finding herself in this privileged situation. But as she reaches for the dining room door handle, she glances over her shoulder at the door of the dusty study that she and Nazleen discovered earlier. She’s as sure as she can be that it was shut when she went upstairs. And now it’s ajar.
Beth
Summer 1988 to Spring 1989
Jonas may have given me a new reason to feel happy at Raven Hall, but I never saw him alone—Nina and I did almost everything together. As the summer holidays drew to an end, Jonas asked me again whether I’d be joining him at the high school in September, and I felt embarrassed that I couldn’t give him a definite answer. The prospect of being at the same school appealed to me, although I’d be in the year below him, so I probably wouldn’t see him all that much. I asked Nina if she knew what the plan was, but she merely shrugged and suggested we ask her parents that evening.
It seemed Leonora and Markus hadn’t given any thought to my ongoing education either, but they quickly came up with a suggestion.
“Not the local high school, no,” Leonora said, “but let’s go and look at this other place.” She glanced at Nina. “Perhaps you both might like to try it there.”
Nina was surprisingly agreeable, and three weeks later we wereboth enrolled at a small and very welcoming private school. The other girls there were friendly, and I hit it off with my new violin tutor straightaway. The only downside was the school was miles from Raven Hall. We left in a taxi early in the morning and got home late, but Nina was cheerful about it, so I was determined to be happy too.
At first, I fretted every time money was mentioned at school—why were Leonora and Markus insisting on paying for my education, and what would happen if they stopped? I still felt I had to be careful not to antagonize Nina. Not that she ever referred to the “game” again or said anything pointed, but I knew that if she asked her parents to send me away, they would—they’d always put her first, and quite rightly too. So I stayed alert for any sign that the family might be preparing to send me back to the children’s home. But as the months passed, and my school life grew more absorbing, I began to relax.
Caroline came for a short visit in October, staying for barely an hour, during which time we made polite conversation in the drawing room and I ate a lot of biscuits to fill the awkward silences. She said she’d see me again before Christmas, but in the end, she sent a parcel and her apologies—she’d been assigned work in South America for six weeks. Eventually, at the end of January, she made a second visit to check on my welfare.
“You seem very settled,” she said.
She’d been in the house hardly two minutes. Leonora, Markus, and Nina had retreated promptly, leaving us to chat privately by the fire that crackled in the black marble fireplace, a tea tray placed on the coffee table between us. I scrutinized her expression, sensing that she was, more than anything, relieved that I was no longer her problem. I was tempted to make a snide retort.Yes, how convenient for you, Aunt Caroline.But as ever, I masked my resentment of her.
“They’re nice people,” I said. “It does feel like home now, I have to admit.”
“Hmm.” She looked as though she might say something disparaging, but she must have thought better of it. “Well, that’s good. It all worked out for the best, then.”
She reached forward for her teacup, and there was something about her profile—the line of her jaw, the lowering of her eyelashes—that reminded me suddenly, quite overwhelmingly, of my mother, her sister. Raven Hall had gradually softened my grief, like a layer of new life growing over a raw tree stump. Caroline’s unwelcome presence ripped that protective layer away and reminded me forcefully of the life I’d lost. In that moment, I hated her for it. I’d rather have been left completely alone in the world, I thought, than haveheras my aunt.
I grabbed my own teacup and made an effort to bring my emotions under control. Caroline was grieving too, I reminded myself. Although she’d never been particularly interested in my brother and me, I’d seen photos of her and my mum together when they were growing up—they must have been close at some point.
“You’ve spilled tea on your skirt.” She eyed me sternly. “I do hope you’re behaving yourself here, Beth. The last thing I need is to hear they don’t want you anymore.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, but I met her gaze without flinching. “They seem to like me well enough. They say I’m part of the family now.”
It was Caroline who looked away, then, although whether her conscience pricked her or she was merely growing bored, I couldn’t tell. I waved her off soon afterward, but the weight of her words added to the usual pressure I’d grown used to: I was still an outsider. I had to be on my best behavior, all the time.
It was a few weeks after my birthday, when I’d been living atRaven Hall for eight months, that something changed my perception of my position there. It came about because Nina got a part in the school play, and her rehearsals went on well into the evening as the performance night drew closer. Leonora and Markus took pity on me and offered to send two taxis for us, just for those few dates. So I was back at Raven Hall, without Nina, when Jonas knocked on the door late one afternoon.
We strolled around the lake, talking about everything and nothing. I glanced sideways at him frequently, wondering what was going through his mind. Would he tell me again that he liked me? Should I tell him that I liked him? A short way past the old tree stump, he came to a sudden halt by a little stone beach, and I carried on for a couple of steps before swinging around to face him.
“What?”
“Let’s swim.”
I laughed. “No way, Jonas. It’s not even April yet. It’ll be freezing.”
He gestured at his short-sleeved T-shirt. “It’s fine. Practically summer.”
“You’re crazy.” But I followed him down to the water’s edge, and I watched him undress, my pulse jumping.
“Come on, scaredy cat,” he said, and he plunged into the green-black water, splashing wildly and yelling at the shock of it. My heart raced. Could I bear it? But could I bear not to join him? Quickly, I tugged off my school skirt and jumper, and I took a running leap.
I was swallowed into a different world. I hung there, staring sightlessly into the water, unable to move. No air in my lungs, no gentle spring sunshine on my skin, no background chirrup and rustle of life. I waited for something to happen as the tightness in my chest grew.
“Beth!” Jonas was shaking me, and suddenly the sky had returned, and I could breathe again. “Bloody hell, are you okay?”
I made a supreme effort to move my fingers, my arms, my legs, and I felt my blood start moving again.
