She felt she was losing her mind. The events of the previous few days suddenly overwhelmed her with a kaleidoscope of fear-filled, violent images and sly murmurings. She stared suspiciously at people passing her on the pavement. Coolly they turned aside, pretending indifference and that the whispering was none of their doing, but she knew that secretly they were all laughing at her.
Shortly after their strange encounter outside the bank, Louise was driving out of Causton when she saw Ann crossing the road in a wandering sort of way. Her immediate impulse was to offer a lift. She even took her foot off the accelerator and started to brake. But there was something so strange about Ann’s appearance. One hand gripped the edges of her coat, pulling them fiercely together although the day was quite mild. The other was hovering in front of her mouth like a fluttering bird. Even so, Louise could see her lips moving. She was frowning, too, and shaking her head.
Louise drove on. She had her own problems which were rapidly becoming quite severe. This was no time to try and cope with a person not only plainly distraught but who also, Louise was now convinced, didn’t even like her.
She had not expected to have to come into Causton, especially on market day, and had no ready cash. From the first, Louise had insisted on sharing all the bills at her brother’s house and paying the housekeeping alternate weeks. This was her week. She had run out of various items and, a certain cautious friendliness having been reestablished between herself and Val, last night she had asked him for some money to tide her over. He said he didn’t have any. Unthinking and genuinely puzzled, Louise said, ‘But you went to the bank only the other day.’ She remembered picking up the withdrawal slip from the the kitchen floor and throwing it in the bin. It had been for four hundred pounds.
Within seconds the atmosphere changed, becoming thick with anger and resentment.
‘I am getting absolutely sick of this!’ Valentine almost spat out the words.
‘Of what?’
‘Of you. And your constant bloody criticism.’
‘I didn’t mean to—’
‘It is your week to pay for the food. Right?’
‘Forget it. I’ll drive into town.’
‘If you don’t want to pay your way—’
‘That’s a rotten thing to say.’ Now she was raising her voice. ‘I’ve paid my way ever since I arrived, as well you know.’
‘Really?’
‘Where else d’you think my savings have been going?’ As she spoke, Louise had a sudden sickening knowledge of what had happened to Valentine’s four hundred pounds. And knew that the awareness showed on her face.
There was a formidable quietness between them then Valentine said, ‘I can’t cope with all these rows. I have work to do.’ Deliberately he turned his back on her, walking away towards the stairs. ‘I mean it, Lou. I’ve just about had enough.’
Louise, shaking with resentment and distress, couldn’t bear to remain in the house. She made her way to the garden and sat down by the pool. What was she to do now?
Anger at the injustice of her brother’s remarks had already evaporated. In its place flooded childhood memories. Always their parents’ favourite, Valentine had rarely taken advantage of his position. Appreciating the unfairness of the situation even when very young, he had constantly attempted to rejig the balance, praising paintings she brought home from school that her mother barely glanced at, helping with her homework, talking his father into letting her tag along when they went fishing. For her fifth birthday he had made a little wooden box painted with starfish and baby seals which she still treasured. And, nicest of all, he had always been able to make her laugh.
At this final recollection, Louise started to cry. She wept bitterly, her eyes open and without wiping her tears away, as children do. At her feet, glittering in the dark reflected water, the golden carp swam heavily up and down.
Watching them was quite hypnotic. Gradually, the austere formality of the garden laid a calming hold on her emotions. The weeping became spasmodic then dried to a sad sniffle. Her heartbeats were more measured. She sat on for perhaps another half-hour, gradually becoming more peaceful.
But what to do now? Plainly Valentine was very unhappy, which meant Louise was unhappy too. But if he did not want her around, how could she properly stay? Surely this strangely violent transformation must be temporary - the alternative did not bear thinking of - and when it was over, he would be quite alone. Perhaps she could move just a short way away, to one of the neighbouring villages. She could afford to rent a small house or flat.
Anger seized her at the thought of the man responsible for all this disruption and her brother’s wretched state. Before Jax came, they had been contented, their lives orderly and pleasurable. Then the anger drained away and she began to feel frightened, as if her whole life had been suddenly menaced.