The Soft Whisper of Dreams by Christina Courtenay Page B

Nine
     
    ‘Mother, for heaven’s sake, would you just calm down and tell me what’s going on please? What’s the matter with you? Stop pacing around, will you!’
    Mrs Blake-Jones came to a halt in the kitchen and sank onto a chair by the table. She slumped forward, burying her head in her hands. ‘Nothing, Jane, nothing’s the matter. It was just the sun,’ she mumbled. ‘Just the sun ...’
    ‘The sun. Right.’ Jane tapped her foot impatiently on the floor. ‘Mother, I wasn’t born yesterday. You fainted at the sight of that red-haired girl, and then you told her to go away when she was only trying to help. You were very rude, and you are never rude normally. Something strange is going on here.’ Jane was utterly baffled by her mother’s behaviour, and determined to get to the bottom of it.
    Mrs Blake-Jones lifted her face to look at her daughter, and Jane gasped as she took in the sight of her mother’s tear-drenched cheeks. She hurried over to put her arm around the slight shoulders, and felt her shudder.
    ‘Mother, please, tell me what’s wrong.’
    ‘What’s going on in here?’ Her mother jumped at the sound of her husband’s voice and looked ready to faint for the second time that day. Jane saw all the blood drain out of her face and she appeared to freeze, gazing at her husband with the terrified eyes of a fawn staring into the barrel of a shotgun. Jane frowned.
    ‘Well? Speak to me.’ The Reverend Saul Blake-Jones wasn’t used to disobedience in his own house, as Jane well knew, and scowled at the two women.
    ‘It’s nothing, Father. Mother fainted when we were out, but I think it was just the sun,’ Jane hastened to placate him. The last thing she needed was one of his outbursts. She knew precisely what that would do to her mother.
    ‘I heard you mention a woman with red hair. Who was she?’
    ‘I-I don’t know. Her face seemed to upset Mother, but, er, I’m sure it was nothing. Just her imagination.’
    The Reverend turned his hard gaze onto his wife and Jane felt her mother tremble violently. She gritted her teeth, wondering for the umpteenth time how she could persuade her mother to leave this house with her. It was as if her father had some hold over his wife and every time Jane tried to make her leave she was met with a blank refusal, even though she knew her mother would dearly like to escape her husband’s tyranny.
    ‘Is this true? You saw a red-haired woman?’ he asked, keeping his gaze fixed on his wife’s pale face.
    She nodded.
    ‘Now why would that upset you, I wonder.’ He stroked his beard and regarded her thoughtfully, his dark eyes glittering with malice. It was Jane’s turn to shiver. For twenty years she had lived with this man who was her father. She knew she was supposed to love and obey him, but she found it impossible. He had bullied them once too often and she didn’t think she could stand it another second. She simply had to find a way to escape, but she couldn’t leave her mother behind. It would kill her.
    ‘Well, I can think of only one reason for that, my dear,’ he was saying now. He put his hands on the table and leaned forward, pinning his wife to her chair with his gaze. ‘And we both know what that is, don’t we?’
    ‘No, Saul, I must have been imagining things. Lots of people have red hair, you know.’ The answer came out in a strangled voice which Jane hardly recognised. She looked from one parent to the other, but they were oblivious to her presence. They saw only each other. And something else, but what?
    ‘I don’t think so. I knew it was a mistake, I should have taken care of the matter once and for all when I had the chance.’ He turned on his heel and marched towards the door.
    ‘No, Saul, please! Don’t ...’
    He swivelled round and glared at his wife once more. ‘This was all your fault so don’t you dare say a word. Do you hear me?’ he roared, and Jane saw her mother’s face crumple as she began to sob loudly.