Carved in Stone: Monochrome Destiny Page 18

  Robyn found it fascinating to observe James, but the power he held over his grandson was disturbing, especially knowing how controlled Andrew could be. Robyn immediately hid her anxiety. She sensed that it was inadvisable to show weakness in front of James. “Robyn Darrow,” she replied politely.

  “So, you are the new teacher at the school.”

  Andrew sidestepped, putting himself between James and Robyn. Six inches taller, leaner, younger, stronger, he should have been intimidating but his grandfather never showed the slightest concern. Andrew spoke sharp words through gritted teeth. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Are you not talking to me right now?” James remained unruffled.

  “In private,” Andrew hissed.

  There was a moment of silence as they weighed each other up. Finally James broke the stalemate and turned to Robyn, “Would you please excuse us.” He took a step back, gestured for Andrew to accompany him and they both left the room. James made sure to pull the door shut behind him and Robyn was left, alone. Footsteps faded until she heard the sound of another door closing.

  With nothing better to do, Robyn walked to the portraits on the wall.

  As the figures wore costumes from different periods, she could tell that the pictures represented different eras but Robyn didn’t know enough to say which. What she could tell, however, was that all the figures were related. The men and women had the same small slate grey eyes. Their hair, where it still retained colour must have been a mousy brown, from the tone depicted and most of the men had an overly bulbous long nose. The women appeared to have been spared this particular feature but they all had very strong protruding chins. Many were overweight and that showed in there being a little too much flesh on the jowl. Not only were they all related to each other, but quite clearly, they were related to James Truscott. His family history hung on these walls. Yet Andrew was completely different. His height, eye shade, hair colour, defined, chiselled facial features. None matched the gallery on display.

  After staring at the pictures, looking into the emotionless expressions, wondering what they were thinking about as they sat for the artist, Robyn realised that they were all painted locally. In some, the manor house featured in the background. In others, there was the familiar headland and pebbled cove in the distance. The family had clearly been here for generations and from the lavish clothing and pleasing settings, they were also the same family whose name graced the school and the ornamental graves she had found in the churchyard.

  Finished with the paintings, Robyn moved to the cabinets. They held china plates on stands, cup and saucer sets and figurines. All items that you expect to find in a display cabinet. But oddly, spread throughout the normal collection was an array of strange little objects that had no relationship to the china: a stone with some odd carvings; a black lacquered horn from a ram; a stone pendant with a circle carved onto it threaded on a leather thong; a small black statue of Anubis; a blackened silver saucer with carvings embellishing it. There were statues of figures carved in wood or stone, some animals, some human and some a mixture of both. Many had oversized sex organs. There were so many objects that she couldn’t see them all clearly, hidden as they were behind plates or figurines.

  Robyn was standing, looking at the collection and wondering why anyone would keep all of this, let alone display it, when she noticed voices drifting from the hall; raised angry voices.

  She was already near the door and moved a step closer, etiquette telling her not to eavesdrop but curiosity winning out. The voices continued but she couldn’t make out the words and she simply had to listen to the conversation. The strange events of the last two days had thrown her off balance. If she could get some answers, make some sense of everything then she might be able to put it all behind her. Robyn needed to hear, even if it were only to find out why Andrew was so enraged with his grandfather and she needed to know why, of all places, Andrew had brought her here, to his grandfather, when he had learned of her visitors.

  Gently turning the handle until the latch was just clear of the jamb, Robyn opened the door half an inch. The voices, instantly loud enough to hear, echoed down the hallway.

  “You bring her to my home?” James’s voice was raised, the control finally waning.

  “I had to and you know it.” Andrew shouted back.

  “Don’t you even think about it?” James replied.

  “I have never asked you for anything,” Andrew threw back at him, “but I’m asking now.”

  “Ask for anything, are you jesting, Andrew?” James’s voice lifted an octave as he spoke with incredulity.

  “You know what I mean,” he spoke deeply, unnervingly. Robyn recognised Andrews tone, he was still furious.

  “I have done nothing but look after your interests since you came here, and this is how you repay me?”

  “I never asked you to.”

  “Of course not, but you know I had no choice in the matter. What would you have had me do? Where would you be now if I hadn’t taken you in?”

  Silence fell. Robyn stepped back and considered shutting the door, thinking that they may be returning but then the voices started again. The shouting had died down, the voices were quieter but no less heated.

  “This girl, what will she think?” James said, referring to her she presumed.

  “I don’t know, I’ve never felt this, had a connection like this before. I think if I have time, it will work out. But I need time.” Andrew’s response had lost its rage. He no longer shouted but he emphasized every word.

  “And you think that I have the power to. . .”

  “I know you do.” Andrew cut James off.

  There was no noise throughout the entire house as the two men considered their next words carefully.

  “I don’t know.” James broke the silence.

  “I’ll take responsibility. There will be no trouble I assure you. There will be no reason. You have my word.” Andrew seemed to be grasping for words.

  “And what is in this for me? If I am to put myself on the line here, I need to get something in return.” James’s tone changed, something sly crept into his voice.

  “This is not the time for bargaining, I am asking you to do this, for me.” Andrew replied.

  “And I have asked you to do something for me, dear boy, repeatedly. If I am to do this, then I want something in return.” James’s voice held cunning. He had turned the conversation to his advantage and Robyn could hear the satisfaction.

  “I told you that I wouldn’t.” Andrew’s words were stern.

  “Well those are my terms, take it or leave it. You know the consequences either way.” James said haughtily.

  Robyn waited to hear Andrew’s reply. She had no idea what they were talking about, but felt, deep inside, that his answer was pivotal to her. She waited in the silence until Andrew made his choice.

  “Stop them, stop them now. I’ll do it, but if you can’t get this sorted out, if I see or hear one more thing, I swear, I will step in. You don’t get what you want until I am absolutely sure that you have held up your end.” Andrew’s voice was calm, the fury gone.

  “Alright,” James responded quickly, “but I assure you, I will not be able to protect you, either of you, if you can’t control her. Do you understand that?”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Robyn heard a door being opened and hastily shut hers before moving over to the glass cabinet. Her mind was swirling. James knew something, his words confirmed that there had indeed been visitors at the cottage last night, and that they were not a figment of her imagination, but how was he involved?

  The door opened and Andrew walked in and stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and drawing her to him, protectively. James followed with a smug expression on his face. Whatever it was that Andrew had agreed to, James was overjoyed about it.

  “Ah, an odd collection don’t you think?” James saw Robyn looking at the ornaments.

  “Very eclectic,” she answered. J
ames let out a great guffaw.

  “Well that’s my boy.” He walked to the mantel of the fireplace and took down a dark, wooden pipe and matches. He lit a match, put the flame to the tobacco in the pipe and took short, quick puffs until the tobacco was sufficiently alight. Thick wisps of smoke trailed up to the ceiling, which, she noticed, had a nicotine patina. Looking over the top of the pipe at Andrew, he stood still for a long moment before returning his focus to Robyn.

  “Andrew sent me all those trinkets whilst he was travelling.” James used the end of the pipe to point to the cabinets.

  “Travelling?”

  “Yes for his doctoral thesis.”

  She turned to Andrew even more puzzled “Doctorate?”

  Andrew was not about to answer, preferring to stand silently holding her but James seemed happy to do it for him.

  “Yes, didn’t he tell you? Symbolism in Ancient Cultures or something wasn’t it?” he asked Andrew.

  “Something like that.” Andrew’s voice was flat.

  “Well, Andrew sent me these little objects from all over the place. His little joke I think, as he was spending all my money flying around. But I turned the joke on him because I display them all, all my little treasures.”

  Robyn stared into the cabinet. Andrew had a doctorate. He had travelled. Travelled a lot judging by the artefacts she continued to stare at. When had he found the time? Symbolism: that was an odd choice. Robyn knew that Andrew was a history teacher but she had envisaged the usual route into teaching; Degree in history, Postgraduate Certificate of Education, then teach. She realised that she actually knew nothing about history or the different courses that were on offer. She also knew very little about Andrew.

  “I’m terribly sorry, but I have a full day ahead of me, I was wondering what your plans are?” James stared directly at Andrew in challenge.

  “We’re leaving.” Andrew replied tersely.

  In the car, driving away from the manor, Robyn looked at Andrew. Although the rage was gone, he was still on edge. His hands held the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white but Robyn was too preoccupied with the pieces of this ever more confusing puzzle, to be concerned.

  Whatever or whoever the figures on her lawn had been, they were somehow connected to James and he was connected to Andrew.

  Robyn was an outsider in Porthmollek. That fact had been made obvious from her first day. But she wanted to make a life there and Andrew clearly wanted her to stay. Whatever it was that James wanted; Andrew had agreed to hand it over in order to keep her there and she had to hold on to that. What she didn’t like however, was the way he had agreed to control her. Robyn would not be controlled.

  She turned to Andrew as he drove. He was tense as he concentrated on the road.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” She couldn’t divulge what she had overheard.

  Andrew had just taken the turn towards her cottage, but slammed on the brakes and threw the car into the gateway of a field. He sighed, turned off the engine, removed the keys and leaned back in his seat.

  “He’s not my real grandfather. My father was adopted.” Andrew stared straight ahead.

  “I sort of got that.”

  “Yes, I guess that it’s kind of obvious, especially to a scientist.” He looked down and fiddled with the keys in his hand. She waited patiently for him to go on. “My grandmother married James when my father was an infant. I don’t know much about my real family, only a name, Obursen. My father chose to keep the name rather than become a Truscott.” The name Truscott was said with disdain. “My grandmother, Alison, left soon afterwards, the marriage didn’t even last a year but she left my father behind. I guess she figured that James could provide what she couldn’t. James sent him away to school, somewhere in Europe where he stayed until he met and married my mother.” He paused for a long moment before continuing. “They were both killed in a road accident when I was young.” Andrew was sad, his eyes fixed on a moment long ago and Robyn felt guilty for prying. “I was raised for a while by my mother’s parents in France. James visited frequently at first. I remember him teaching me to play cricket, sitting with me to do homework, taking me fishing, but it wasn’t to last. He seemed to get bored of me and I saw less and less of him.” Andrew shifted in his seat and looked directly at her. “When my grandparents died, James was the one thing I had left. I got in contact, but he still kept me at arms-length. He paid for university, funded my entire course and my thesis but there’s no warmth in him.” Andrew sighed. “I’ve spent a lot of time angry with James, but despite the fact that he’s not actually related to me, he is my only family. I returned once before, three years ago. This is my second attempt at getting through to him. Our relationship is, strained, to say the least, but there are things that make me grateful to him as well. It’s difficult.”

  Andrew’s gaze was intense and difficult to read. The memories clearly wounded him and Robyn understood the loss, but there was something she couldn’t quite reach driving it all.

  After today, Robyn wondered if Andrew wasn’t as much of a puzzle as Kat’s disappearance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Andrew followed Robyn home. She couldn’t remember if the door had closed behind her when she left and he insisted on checking the house.

  The door was shut up tight when they arrived.

  Robyn waited outside, listening intently as Andrew walked through the house. The concept of someone going through her things, of violating her privacy, made her nauseous. The unshakable feeling that her visitors had been something other than human made that nausea pale in comparison. She wasn’t sure that she would ever be comfortable in the cottage again.

  Andrew came to the door. “It’s clear. I don’t think they got inside, but you’d better take a look around to make sure nothing’s missing.”

  Robyn entered cautiously, the memory of last night sending shivers down her spine. She checked the lounge and dining room first and found that nothing had moved. Everything was just as she’d had left it, including the dirty dishes in the sink. The mobile phone case was still on the dining table.

  Her nerves subsided as she climbed the stairs and found nothing amiss in the bedrooms either. The cottage was untouched. Relief swept over her as she realised that the intruders had not been in the cottage. The door must have closed after her frantic bid for escape.

  Robyn walked back down the stairs.

  “Nothing’s been touched.”

  “Good. It’s over. You don’t need to worry.” Andrew stepped towards the bottom of the staircase to meet her. “They won’t come again.”

  “Why did you believe me, even though there was nothing to support my story?”

  “Why would you ask me that?” his brow furrowed.

  She sighed, “Experience.”

  Andrew said nothing.

  “Why did you take me to your grandfather?” The question had plagued her from the moment Andrew had greeted James.

  Andrew placed his hands on her shoulders stopping her on the penultimate step. “The figures you saw on the lawn. They were sent to warn you, to frighten you.”

  “They succeeded.” She hated that she’d been frightened and now she hated the doubt she had. Could Andrew be involved in this in some way? “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve seen it before; a long time ago.” His voice drifted away, his eyes remembering some distant image of the past.

  “I don’t understand.” What had he seen before? This was all getting surreal.

  “They were sent to terrify you enough that you would leave. They want you gone.” His focus returned and his eyes drilled into her.

  “Why? Who were they? What did I do to deserve that?” What in God’s name was going on here?

  “I don’t know, Robyn. What did you do?” His voice had changed. She stood accused and was locked in his hold, escape impossible. He had manoeuvred her there on purpose. “What did you do yesterday?” he repeated, his tone deadly.

  She tried to look away,
but Andrew already knew she was guilty. “Um, I took the mobile phone cover to the police.”

  “I warned you not to do that.” He was so calm. She would have preferred rage.

  “If they want me gone, who is ‘they’? I know Derek Ellis must have a hand in this but who are these people?” Anger bubbled inside her and she preferred to direct her rage at Derek than at Andrew.

  Andrew took a step back but his long arms continued to stop her from moving. “I don’t know exactly, but the locals here, the old families, they don’t like change, they don’t like . . . disturbance. You brought the police into the school and the town and they don’t like people poking around.”

  None of this made any sense. “But Kat’s missing!” Why did no-one seem to care?

  He caught her chin in his hand and fixed his eyes onto hers. “No, she’s not. The police know where she went. You cannot keep stirring this up. Can you not see the state the town is in? The people? Has it entirely escaped your attention that Porthmollek is on its knees at the moment? The last thing any of the locals want, or need, is bad press. You have to drop this.”

  “But Kat?”

  “She left the country, Robyn. It’s not a big mystery. You have to let her go.” She studied him for a while as he stared at her calmly. He seemed so certain. “You’ve had your warning. You won’t get another. You’ll lose your job and there will be nothing I can do about it.” Each word was delivered succinctly.

  She had thought about going to the police and telling them about the figures on the lawn but she now knew that there would be nothing to gain by it. She desperately needed to find Kat and find out why she had left, but Andrew wasn’t going to help her, in fact, he was actively going to stop her. This town and its small minded occupants had closed ranks and God help her, she still wanted to be a part of it. Could she keep searching for answers without anyone finding out?

  “Of all the people in town, why did you take me to your grandfather about this?” James Truscott was clearly a man of means, but just how much power did he wield?