She had certainly succeeded in banishing the horrors of the previous night, if not completely, which would have been impossible, to some extent. Over the next few days there was a great deal of talk about looking for a house in Yorkshire. I felt a certain enthusiasm for the project. I could not cast off the memory of what I had seen. Every night before I went to bed, I would go to the window and look out, half-expecting to see the man or ghost-whatever it was-sitting there. There would be a rush of panic as I approached the window and an intense relief when I saw the seat was empty.

I would go to it by day and sit there, thinking. The past was back with him. I could not stop thinking of the night when I had waited for my father to come home from the House, when he had stayed the night with the Greenhams, so giving himself a few more hours of life. I thought of the following day, when I had looked straight at that man after he had fired the shot which killed my father. I was back in the past. It would never be completely gone... not until I knew the truth-whether there were two men with widow’s peaks and scarred cheeks, whether the figure which haunted me was indeed a man or an image conjured up out of my tortured imagination.

But if I had condemned an innocent man and the real murderer still lived to taunt me, how could he have come to Manor Grange? How could he have sat there on the haunted seat?

The most likely explanation was, of course, that I had imagined what I saw. I had been far more shocked than I had realized at the time it happened; and the episode of the fire must have affected me more than I imagined.

These thoughts obsessed me during the next few days; and then another shock awaited me.

The local newspaper was always available during the morning; and I took my copy and went into the garden to glance through it. Boldly I went to the haunted seat and, sitting down, began to read. There were the usual local matters ... an account of a wedding and two funerals. People were more interested in their immediate circle than in the whole wide world.

Then a paragraph caught my eye, and my heart began to hammer as I read. It was brief and to the point:

The Members of Parliament, Mr. James Hunter and Mr. Joel Greenham, are on their way back to England. It will be remembered that they were taking part in a mission to Buganda. When returning to their hotel one night the two gentlemen disappeared and were thought to have been robbed and murdered by thieves. In fact, they were kidnapped and have spent several months in captivity. Their release has now been secured and they are on their way back to England to be reunited with their families.

I read the paragraph through several times. Was I dreaming? Was this another hallucination?

Could Joel really be alive? I went up to the bedroom. I was thankful that I did not Meet anyone. I could only say to myself: Joel has come home. He is really alive. Memories of him kept flashing into my mind. I had loved him for so long ... all my life, it seemed. News of his death, following so close on that of my father, had completely stunned me. I had been lonely and lost.

I could not believe this. Joel alive! Coming home!

What would that mean to me? I was married now. I felt a terrible anguish; and it seemed as though a burden of sadness and despair was settling upon me. Joel coming home... and I was married to Roland Fitzgerald! I loved Roland, I told myself. He was a good husband to me. When had he ever been anything but kind and considerate?

But... Joel was coming home. We had promised that we would love each other forever... and I had married Roland.

I was numbed by the shock. Roland and Phillida noticed. They noticed everything, I thought, a little resentfully. They believed that what they called my hallucination had shocked me more than they had first thought. Phillida was busy with her remedies. In addition to the nightcap she was bringing me some herbal drink.

She said, “When we are next in London together, I’ll take you to the health shop.

They have just about everything to promote good health.”

They were talking a great deal about the house Roland was proposing to buy in Yorkshire. Phillida knew exactly how many rooms we should need. She chattered constantly about it. I let her run on. I did not wish her to guess at my indifference. I was wondering where Joel was now. Coming home, they said. There would be more about it in the London papers. I wished that I were there.

What was he thinking? He would be remembering me, believing that I was waiting for him ... as we had promised we would. That seemed years ago. So much had happened since.

The trip to Yorkshire dominated Roland’s and Phillida’s conversation. I was only half listening to what they said.

I did hear Roland say, “I thought we might rent a house for a month or so to give you a chance to look round. We don’t want to commit ourselves until we’re sure.”

“What an excellent idea!” cried Phillida.

“Does that appeal to you, Lucie?”

“Oh, yes... yes ... I suppose it’s a good idea.”

“You do think so?” pressed Roland.

“Of course she does,” Phillida answered for me.

“I think we should go next week. I really need to go, and it would be an excellent opportunity.”

“I’m so looking forward to it,” added Phillida. “House-hunting is such fun, isn’t it, Lucie?”

“Oh, yes.”

“The moors are noted for their beauty,” said Phillida. “I think somewhere close to the moors would be nice. Not too isolated, of course. Then there are those wonderful old abbeys ...Fountains and Rievaulx. Ruins, of course. Henry VIII, wasn’t it? What a dreadful thing to do! But the ruins are really fascinating. Next week, you said, Roland? I really can’t wait.”

I wanted to shout at them: stop talking about houses in Yorkshire! I wanted to tell them: Joel’s coming home. I can’t think about anything else. There was a letter from Belinda next day.

Dear Lucie,

Bobby and I are coming to London. We do want to see you. Everything is going to be all right now. I told him what you did. Bobby, the darling, does understand. He thinks you’re wonderful. Both of us do want to see you. We shall be staying with Celeste who is not very well. I think she is a little lonely.

So come up and be with us for a few days. You really must. Celeste would love to see you.

Love from Belinda

But next week I shall be looking at houses... houses which don’t interest me, because Joel is coming home and I am beginning to wonder what I have done with my life.

Since I had read that paragraph about Joel, I had forgotten to look for the man on the haunted seat before I went to bed. The thought of Joel’s return had closed my mind to everything else.

The idea came to me suddenly in the night. I would not go to Yorkshire with them. I had little interest in houses. I wanted to go to London. I must know what was happening about Joel. It was too frustrating to be without news.

I decided to be a little devious.

I said, “I’ve heard from Belinda. She’s coming to London and she thinks Celeste is not well.”

“Oh dear,” said Roland, all concern. He was always very sympathetic to others.

“Belinda thinks I should go to London to see Celeste.”

“You could go after we have got back from Yorkshire,” suggested Roland. “I ... I don’t think I could really be happy if I thought she were ill and I wasn’t on the spot.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. But I feel I must go up to London and find out.”

“When?” asked Phillida.

“Well... now. I don’t want to wait until she is really ill.”

“Is it as bad as that?”

“Belinda... suggested ...” I trailed off. I was thinking, why should I have to make these explanations, tell them half truths... just because I don’t want to go with them, because I must find out all I can about Joel? I went on firmly, “I think it would be a good idea if you two went to Yorkshire.

After all, it’s your native country. You know a great deal about it. I know nothing.”

“But you were excited about looking for a house,” said Roland.

“Well, you are not going to find it in a day or so. Why don’t you two go ... and if you find something I can come and look at it later. But it is going to take some time... and I shall be worrying about Celeste.”

“It will spoil everything,” said Phillida with a little pout. Roland said gently, “I understand how Lucie feels. She would be thinking of Celeste all the time.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” I said gratefully.

“Then, my dear Lucie, you must do as you wish. Phillida and I will go to Yorkshire. We’ll look round, and then, if something seems possible, we’ll get you to come down and inspect it. We won’t decide anything without you, rest assured.” I smiled at him warmly. He really was very kind and always understanding. I felt a sense of shame, but at the same time, I was immensely relieved. I could not speak to them of Joel. I was wondering whether I should see him; and had no idea what his reaction toward me would be ... if I did.

Thus it was that I found myself on the train speeding to London. The cab took me to the house and there was Celeste waiting for me.

She rushed at me and hugged me.

“How lovely that you are here!”

“Belinda said that you were unwell so I had to come.”

“Belinda’s exaggerating.”

“I’m so glad. When does she arrive?”

“Tomorrow. I’m glad you came a day ahead. It gives us a chance to chat awhile. Where is Roland?”

“On his way to Yorkshire with Phillida. Celeste ... I saw a piece in the paper ... about Joel.”

“Oh, yes, there has been quite a lot in the London papers. They didn’t make it headline news though. I suppose they’ll wait until he gets home for that.”

“When is he coming home?”

“It must be soon now, I imagine.”

“Did you hear what happened?”

“No. I did think of calling on the Greenhams but I didn’t. They were so odd at the time of his disappearance that I have seen very little of them since.”

“I thought there might be some news up here.”

“The press is being unusually secretive about it. I should have thought it would have made a good story. MPs kidnapped and held all this time ...”

“Was a ransom paid?”

“I know nothing more than what I have read in the papers.”

“I wonder when he’ll be home.”

“It can’t be the same... can it? I mean, between you two.... You’re married now.”

“I was told he was dead, Celeste.”

She was looking at me in some alarm.

“But you are very happily married. Roland is so good, isn’t he? Poor Joel. Perhaps you ought not to see him. Perhaps I should explain.”

“I want to see him, Celeste, I want to explain.”

“If you think it wise. Of course ... he may have changed.”

“It’s not really so long ago, Celeste.”

“But you are a married woman now.”

I nodded and turned away.

“How long will Roland and Phillida be in Yorkshire?” she asked.

“I don’t know exactly. They’re looking for a house.”

“A house? Right up there?”

“It’s where Roland’s main business is. It is more their home than the South is. Roland wants to buy a house. I think he feels that Manor Grange is mine and he wants to provide a home for us.”

She nodded. “That’s natural enough,” she said. “But what about Manor Grange? Are you going to sell it?”

“I’m not sure that I could even if I wanted to. All that business about the trust.

I don’t know what it entails. I didn’t listen much at the time.”

“We were too shocked, weren’t we? I suppose the trustees would have to agree to the sale. I’m no more sure than you are.”

“I wouldn’t sell in any case. Think of the Emerys.”

“I see. But if you are living in Yorkshire ...”

“I shall come South quite a lot. I shall come to see you and Belinda. I couldn’t be quite cut off.”

“Well, you can always come here when you want to be in London... and then you’ll have Manor Grange if you want to stay there. Perhaps it’s not such a bad idea. So they will be looking, and if they find something... ?”

“I shall go up and see what it’s like and if the three of us are agreed... well then, I suppose Roland will buy it.”

“Very exciting!” said Celeste. “It’s wonderful to have you here.” She had put me in my old room; and that night, when I went to bed I could not resist going to the window. I stared at the railings of the garden square, half-expecting to see him there.