Julius was visibly rattled. “Your father was a brilliant man. Phaedra seduced him, and because of her he took his eye off the ball. She pulled him down. He might not have died if she hadn’t made him miserable. He became reckless after she refused to see him anymore. He threw himself down that mountain as if he had a death wish.”
“You mean he took his eye off you, Julius? Admit it, you were jealous. They went trekking, what, twice?—long treks in the Himalayas, something he never did with you. You weren’t jealous of Mum because she never got in the way. But Phaedra did. He was crazy about her, wasn’t he? Suddenly, you were relegated to the shadows, excluded from all the fun.”
“It wasn’t going to last,” Julius snapped. “It was an obsession. You know your father: he was the obsessive type, but his fixations never lasted long. He’d have changed his will back in the end.”
“Was it your idea for her to pretend she was his daughter?”
“She came to me in a panic once she knew she’d been included in his will. She didn’t want to hurt his family. So I concocted the scam to protect George. You know, he would never have left Antoinette. It was nothing more than an infatuation, and it wouldn’t have lasted. Now Phaedra’s where she would have been had he not died: out in the cold. As I said, he would have tired of her in the end.”
“She really rattled you, didn’t she?” said David. “But your plan hasn’t worked. I’m going to ask her to come back, once I find her.”
Julius recovered his composure a little once he realized he still had the upper hand. “Ah, she’s run off, has she?”
“As you intended, she was shocked and hurt by the revelation in the DVD. But I’m going to find her.”
“Well, if you’ve come here in the hope of discovering where she is, I have no idea.” He shrugged carelessly. “And if I did know, why on earth do you think I’d tell you?”
David wanted to reach over and punch him. It wouldn’t have been difficult; the man was half his size and as soft as jelly, but he held back. There was no point either in taunting him with the obvious fact that he would no longer be employed to run George’s estate. David kept his dignity and stood up, thrusting his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from doing something stupid. “I wish you luck, Julius. Once it’s made public that you falsified the DNA test, I don’t imagine you’ll find much work in this town. I’m surprised: for a man as meticulous as you, your actions were extremely clumsy.”
Julius smiled like a snake. “And I wish you luck, David. You’ll need it to find Phaedra. I imagine by now she’s losing herself in the deepest depths of America. A girl like Phaedra is easy to lose. No roots, no ties, nothing.” He clicked his fingers. “Gone, like a flame in the wind. You can see yourself to the door.”
David’s veneer of calmness crumbled once he reached the pavement. He began to shake, and he staggered to his car, where he remained for a long while, taking deep breaths and fighting the rising nausea. His head swam so that he was unable to organize his thoughts. Where was he to look now? Who did he know who knew her? No one.
He left London defeated. All he could do now was hope that she’d have the courage to contact him.
When he reached Fairfield Park, he found his mother and Margaret up at the folly with Dr. Heyworth. The three sat talking in front of the fire like refugees from a terrible tornado, seeking shelter in the little house on the hill. Of course, the subject was Phaedra—a subject they were wearing thin with their incessant discussion.
When David burst in, they were shocked by his unkempt appearance. It was as if he hadn’t slept or bathed for days. Antoinette was wrenched out of herself at the sight of her son’s despair, and suddenly hers paled into insignificance. “David, are you all right?” she asked. He looked like a man who had lost everything.
“Dear boy, come and sit down,” said Margaret gently. “She’s gone, hasn’t she?”
David flopped onto the sofa beside his mother and put his head in his hands. He didn’t feel at all embarrassed to show his unhappiness. They might as well know the truth. “She’s left and taken everything with her,” he said. “She’s not coming back.”
Antoinette put a hand on his shoulder. “You love her very much, don’t you?” He couldn’t answer, and Antoinette didn’t know what else to say. She could offer no words of comfort.
“I don’t know where’s she’s gone. She could be anywhere. I suspect she’s tossed her phone into the Thames, because she doesn’t return my calls or texts. That bloody Julius Beecher wasn’t any help, either.”