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‘It is.’
‘Beth rang. Said they were taking it easy and would be home late on Saturday night about eight – give or take the odd traffic jam!’
‘She rang me too!’
‘Fine! See you, then!’
‘That was Jeannie,’ I said to Hector, who always came to investigate when the phone rang – just in case, I supposed, there was a man on the other end of it! ‘I’m going home soon. Are you going to miss me?’
He whined softly and looked at the biscuit tin, which was his way of telling me he would, and the custard creams too, and I felt a sudden ache inside me to think that soon he too would be leaving Deer’s Leap. Poor Hector, poor Cassie, poor Jack and Suzie!
‘Life’s a bitch,’ I said out loud. ‘And then you die!’
Even when you were hardly into manhood, I thought soberly, and you didn’t want to die and your girl didn’t want you to either!
Then I thought about Piers, whom I hadn’t really loved at all, and promptly burst into tears at the unfairness of it.
On the way back from Preston station, I slowed automatically as we neared the clump of oak trees and Jeannie slid me a warning glance
‘You’re at it again, Cassie! You’re still on the lookout for him! I thought you’d decided to let it drop.’
‘Yes, I had.’ I put my foot down, because there wasn’t a single vibe to be felt. ‘And I really meant it at the time, but something happened this morning.’
I told her about going to the church – hand-on-heart only to look at it! – and how I’d met Mrs Taylor who once was Susan’s closest friend, and there in Acton Carey all the time!
‘What do you mean – living in the village all along? Then why didn’t Bill Jarvis mention it? He knew we – you – were interested.’
‘Maybe it slipped his memory. It all happened a long time ago, and he was older than Susan, didn’t he say, and away in the army for a lot of the war. That could be why he wouldn’t know about the Smiths’ mysterious departure – without a goodbye to anyone. It was a shock to Lizzie. Even she hadn’t known when they were going.’
I told her all I’d learned, and said surely Bill would have told us about something that caused such a stir at the time, if he’d known about it.
‘Maybe he did. Maybe,’ she said over her shoulder as she got out of the car to open the white gate, ‘he was rationing his knowledge – with the beer in mind!’
She brought the matter up again, which surprised me, as soon as we were sitting at the kitchen table, a pot of coffee between us.
‘Why, all of a sudden, are you interested in Susan Smith, and the pilot?’ I asked her. ‘It’s not all that long ago you warned me off, Jeannie.’
‘We-e-ll, things have changed a bit since then. I mentioned the Deer’s Leap books at work. They showed quite an interest. Maybe they’ll ask you to come to London to talk about them when Firedance is finished. How’s it going, by the way?’
‘Fine. I’ll meet the deadline with no problem. And there’s something I forgot. Local folklore has it that Walter and Margaret Dacre were up to their necks in witchcraft!’
‘You mean W. D. & M. D. – the couple who built the house?’
‘You got it in one! There’s no record of it – and there wouldn’t be since they were never accused and tried – but Mrs Taylor said M. D. was a witch! Mind, things get added to and embroidered in the telling, but I always thought of Margaret Dacre as a happy contented wife with a lot of children. I even imagined them adding rooms as their family grew, but I was wrong. According to Mrs Taylor, the Dacres never had children. That can of maggots you warned me about might go a long way back!’
‘Cassie! It gets better and better!’
‘Yes, and it’s only just hit me! What if Margaret Dacre put a curse on Deer’s Leap?’
‘But why on earth should she?’
‘Well, for one thing she could well have been a witch, so ill-wishing would be second nature to her; and never to have given her husband an heir must have upset her a lot. Imagine building that lovely house for future generations to live in, and no son to inherit it! Maybe the curse was eternal and still applies – if there was a curse, I mean. Susan and Jack didn’t have children, that much we do know.’
‘Susan and Jack didn’t get as far as the altar, but what a theme to run through the books! Every couple who lived at Deer’s Leap to be childless! Mind, you’d have to lift the curse eventually – maybe in the final book, Cassie. Y’know, I really do believe we’re on to something!’
She was pink-cheeked with excitement which made me feel a bit of a meanie when I reminded her that Susan Smith was the daughter of the house, and Danny and Beth had two children.
‘Yes, but they were born in Edinburgh. They came here when they were toddlers! You’ll have to think of something for your novels, though, Cas. Can you?’
‘You know I can!’ Now I was excited too. ‘I’d have to do a fair bit of historical research, though. And had you thought – even World War Two is history now.’
‘I’ll grant you that, but Mrs Taylor is still around and didn’t she say you could get in touch with her?’
‘Oh, Jeannie. If only I could find Susan! She’s around too, I’m as certain as I can be.’
‘What you want, I think –’ Jeannie was an editor again, all else forgotten – ‘is a situation in the last of the books whereby the curse is lifted.’
‘Easy! My star-crossed lovers will have a happy-ever-after ending and live at Deer’s Leap, and have children too.’
‘Only the house won’t be called Deer’s Leap …’
‘Think I’m stupid? Of course it won’t.’ It would mean spending time around Acton Carey and maybe calling back the ghost of a pilot, but what the heck! ‘This morning I’d accepted I would never return to Deer’s Leap; never see it again after Sunday. I even went to the war memorial to say goodbye to Jack Hunter! Then in the next breath, almost, I meet Lizzie Taylor. Seems Deer’s Leap isn’t going to let me go, Jeannie!’
‘And will that worry you?’
‘Of course not.’ Bet your life it wouldn’t, because hadn’t that old house just handed me the plots of at least four novels; handed them on a plate because it was determined to keep its hold over me! ‘In fact, the only awful thing about it is that I’ll have all sorts of excuses for coming back here, and it mightn’t go down too well. Because by the time I’m ready to start writing those books, Jeannie, someone else will be living in Deer’s Leap, and I won’t like that one bit!’
Come to think of it, Margaret Dacre mightn’t like it either!
The lucky Cornish pixie Elspeth and Hamish hung in the rear window of my car swung from side to side as I reversed out of the white gate and onto the dust road. Beth and Danny stood waving, Tommy beside them, and Hector gazed at me mournfully.
‘I have never,’ I said to Jeannie, ‘seen a dog who could look so sad, yet wag his tail at the same time, the old fraud!’
‘You’re going to miss him, aren’t you?’
‘I am.’ And the snooty Lotus, who hadn’t condescended to see me off, and the view from the kitchen window and, oh just everything! I felt very choked up still at having to hand over Deer’s Leap, and I told Beth and Danny as we hugged a goodbye that I wasn’t turning to look back – not even for one last glance – because it’s unlucky