Heaven is High Read online

  On the Sunday he came up to her, bringing Mrs. Percival and another of the old ladies whom Kathryn had befriended.

  ‘Two visitors for you,’ he smiled. ‘Two very concerned visitors, I may add.’ He fetched chairs for them and placed them by the bed.

  ‘Miss Ramsey, dear, are you feeling better?’ Mrs. Percival’s vivid blue eyes gazed anxiously down at her. ‘What a blessing it was no worse.’

  ‘I’m feeling fine, as a matter of fact,’ Kathryn said, smiling. ‘I’m only lying down because I’ve just had a doze. Normally I sit up and read. I feel so well that I know I should be up and working.’ John looked at her strangely. Did he consider her to be merely saying this for effect? Was he mentally calling her a hypocrite?

  ‘Nonsense, dear. You must rest; you’ve had a nasty jolt. We read about it in the paper, and were so dreadfully anxious. I wanted to come at once, but what with my heart, and my arthritis—well, buses are no good to me, and in any case I can’t walk even to the bus stop.’ She looked up at John and smiled charmingly at him. She must have been very beautiful when she was young, Kathryn thought, for she was lovely now, with a fresh complexion and scarcely any wrinkles. ‘I rang the Hall and your nice kind fiancé offered to bring me. Ellen wanted to come too, and so here we are.’

  John had offered to fetch her friends ... His face was set, as if he resented being referred to as a nice kind man. He hadn’t been kind ... was that why he resented it?

  ‘I’ll take you back when you’re ready,’ he offered. ‘Kathryn will ring the bell if you want tea. I must go now—’ He shook his head wonderingly. ‘We have more visitors than ever today. I’d have thought they’d have dwindled to a mere handful by now.’

  ‘Always for these last two week-ends we have this spurt,’ Kathryn explained. ‘It must be because we’re going to be closed for a long while. The people want to have a last look, as it were.’

  ‘I see; that explains it. We’re to expect another big crowd next week-end, then?’

  ‘Bigger than this, I should say—if the weather’s fine, that is.’

  Kathryn had another visitor later that day, a visitor she could very well have done without. But Delia’s expression was one of deep concern as, entering the room in front of John, she stepped over to the bed.

  ‘Those awful bandages, they’re so large! Are you much hurt, Kathryn?’ The voice, so soft and anxious. Kathryn felt quite sick, wishing already that she had refused to see Delia when, with some hesitation, John had come up and informed her that both Delia and her parents were here, and they would all like to see her.

  ‘I know how you must feel about Delia,’ he had said curtly. ‘But please remember she was rambling, and didn’t know what she was saying.’

  Kathryn had stared at him then, for while he was talking he all the time avoided her eyes, and his comment about Delia not knowing what she was saying was undoubtedly spoken in the most peculiar way. But his gaze was expressionless and Kathryn began to wonder if her imagination were playing her tricks again.

  ‘I’ll see her,’ Kathryn agreed, adding, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Slade?—they’re coming up too, you say?’

  ‘In a short while. They’re deep in conversation with some of the visitors whom they know, having met them on holiday, I believe they said.’

  After showing Delia into the room John went downstairs again, leaving them together.

  ‘No, Delia, I’m not much hurt. But John must have already told you?’

  Ignoring that, Delia sat down on the chair Mrs. Percival had recently vacated. She crossed her legs and leant back comfortably. Her eyes were half closed yet searching; Kathryn put on a bright smile for her benefit and the narrowed gaze became almost baleful.

  ‘You’ve been very lucky.’ The sneer was barely discernible, but it was there all the same. ‘John seems quite concerned about you. He maintains the accident was his fault, although he won’t say why.’ It was a question, but Kathryn ignored it, her interest being with Delia’s first sentence. She said without any effort at tact,

  ‘You say I’m lucky. Do you mean I’m lucky because my injuries are light ... or because John’s concerned about me?’

  ‘The gloves are off, eh?’

  ‘They’ve been off for some time, Delia,’ came the quiet rejoinder. Kathryn was sitting propped up in bed—a dainty jacket draped round her shoulders. Her hair was attractively spread, a gleaming golden mass against the whiteness of the pillows. ‘But I never dreamed for one moment you’d go to those great lengths to injure me,’ she added, fixing Delia’s gaze squarely. ‘It was despicable!’

  ‘Nothing of the kind. I did John a good turn. He knows now what you are.’ Delia brought out a cigarette case and opened it. Without asking permission she lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke straight up into the air and watching it for a while. ‘I expected you to give him up,’ she added, her gaze returning to Kathryn.

  ‘I’ve no intention of giving him up.’

  ‘He doesn’t want you—you must be aware of that?’ Had they been talking about her? Undoubtedly, otherwise Delia wouldn’t know that John didn’t want her.

  ‘I intend to stay engaged to him—’

  ‘He wants his freedom!’ All restraint dropped from Delia; she was like a savage almost, her nostrils flaring and her eyes burning with anger and frustration. ‘I expected him to throw you over—’

  ‘Yes, you did, but your hateful plan misfired there, didn’t it?’

  ‘I forgot to reckon on his sense of honour. He’d consider himself held by his promise.’

  That was not so; John did not consider himself held. He remained engaged to her only because he wanted to avoid unsavoury talk. But he was only waiting—waiting for the day when Kathryn, unable to tolerate his treatment any longer, would herself break off their engagement. However, Kathryn naturally did not feel inclined to divulge this slip to Delia, so she merely agreed—not verbally, but with a shrug of her shoulders. The action infuriated Delia and her anger flared again.

  ‘How long do you think you can hold him, despite this idea he has of honour? You’ve schemed and plotted in order to be mistress here, but you’ll never be that! John will never stoop to marrying a girl like you, so the sooner you return his ring the better!’

  The colour drained from Kathryn’s cheeks. Those words ... almost exactly the words John had spoken to her. It could be coincidence, she supposed, but ... no, she felt sure they had been talking together. And if they had, they must be on very intimate terms. John, it seemed, did want to marry Delia. For one fleeting moment Kathryn was tempted to say she would release him to tell Delia she could have him—But her halfhearted decision was thrust away; she would stick to her resolution no matter what the cost. Completely deceived by Delia, John thought marriage to her was what he wanted, that in it lay the promise of perfect happiness. ‘Well, I know better,’ Kathryn said to herself, her eyes glinting with determination. ‘I won’t let him ruin his life, no matter how he might hate me for it!’

  John came up later, and, looking down at the lovely figure Kathryn made, sitting there against the snowy pillows, a most odd expression entered his eyes. He seemed baffled and uncertain, but mingling with this was a softness which was by no means lost on Delia. Her eyes narrowed almost to slits, and she had difficulty in maintaining the charming feminine manner which was invariably kept for John—or any other man friend in whose company she happened to be.

  ‘How is our invalid now?’ John asked, sitting down on the bed. He had not glanced at Delia, but he did turn as, leaving Kathryn no time to answer his question, she said with forced lightness,

  ‘Kathryn’s obviously feeling quite well, John, because her conversation’s most spirited.’

  ‘Indeed?’ John’s brows lifted inquiringly, but he gave no smile in return for the dazzling one Delia flashed at him. ‘I hope you haven’t exhausted yourself, Kathryn?’

  So he had guessed they’d been sparring? Did he care that she might have exhausted herself?


  ‘I think I remained quite calm, John, thank you,’ she returned smoothly, and an appreciative curve of his lips told her he understood what she was thinking.

  ‘Mr. and Mrs. Slade will be here directly,’ he said, ‘and that is all for today. It’s rest from now on.’

  ‘But you said I could get up for dinner,’ she reminded him impulsively, forgetting Delia’s presence altogether. ‘Please may I?’ Her tones were childishly sweet and clear; John’s voice was gentle as he said,

  ‘If I made a promise then I must keep to it.’

  ‘You know you promised.’

  ‘Yes, I know I did, and, as I’ve said, I must keep to it. You shall get up for dinner.’

  ‘Have we anyone coming?’ she inquired on a little wistful note. In addition to the Slades, one or two other newly-made friends of John’s had been coming to dinner, and Bernard and Andrea had also dined with them on a couple of occasions.

  John shook his head.

  ‘We’ve no one coming this evening.’ He was smiling at her and she suddenly felt happy. If this softened attitude would only remain ... if John would treat her with just a little more friendliness, then perhaps an occasion would arise where she could explain, tell him her side of the story. Hope brought a lightness to her heart; it was revealed in her expression, but, catching Delia’s eyes, Kathryn felt her pulses race. Why this sudden fear? It was ridiculous, she told herself impatiently. Delia had done her worst and there was nothing more she could do, absolutely nothing.

  CHAPTER X

  The dinner was a pleasant meal, with John chatting to Kathryn all the time and, for a little while at least, seeming to forget what he had learned from Delia.

  ‘Next Sunday will be the last until the spring,’ he was saying as Emily came in to serve the second course. ‘I’ll be glad, Kathryn. I’m going to enjoy having the place to myself.’ He stopped, as if aware of the significance of his words, but although he smiled he made no attempt to alter the meaning of those words. ‘We must expect a very large crowd, you said?’

  ‘If the weather is fine, yes.’ She gave a little grimace. ‘Everybody buys guide books and plans of the house, so we have more work than usual with the accounts, for the takings will be extra high.’

  ‘I suppose we’ll cope with the books, but what about the crowds? We’re two students short.’

  She hesitated.

  ‘Michael might like to come in,’ she suggested, watching his face closely.

  His eyes flickered, but he agreed that it would be advantageous to have a man in with the great knowledge possessed by Michael.

  ‘I’ll give him a ring,’ he ended decisively. ‘Let’s hope he’ll accept.’

  ‘I feel sure he will. He loves this place.’

  ‘So I’ve noticed.’

  ‘So many people do.’ She helped herself to condiments and then, with faint anxiety, ‘Are you intending to re-open the Hall in the spring?’

  ‘I haven’t decided. Have you never considered how pleasant it would be to have this place to yourself?’ The question startled her and she glanced up swiftly. Then, flushing with embarrassment, she lowered her head. His question was clearly not directed at her personally; he was merely asking for her opinion.

  ‘It would be nice, I admit. But so many people come now; it seems a shame not to open it.’

  ‘For the money, you mean?’ he queried, watching her closely.

  ‘No, not merely for the money. So much pleasure is given to those people. Almost without exception they’re lovers of beautiful things and, as you must have noticed, they treat everything with great care and respect. In all the six years we’ve been open we haven’t had a thing either broken or stolen.’

  ‘That’s a wonderful record, wonderful.’ A thoughtful pause and then, ‘Perhaps I shall open it— yes, I mustn’t deprive these people of the pleasure they get from coming to my home.’

  ‘I’m glad. We’ll—you’ll have nearly six months of privacy, for you don’t open till Easter.’ If he noticed her hesitation and amendment he chose to ignore them, and they chatted on in the same vein until the meal was finished. Later, after they had been sitting reading for some time, John glanced at the clock and told Kathryn it was time she went back to bed.

  ‘Oh, but...’ The evening had been so pleasant, so promising, that she was actually fearful of ending it. ‘I’m not a bit tired.’

  ‘Nevertheless you must go back to bed,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s only four days since the accident; you’ve done very well indeed and we want you to continue doing so.’

  Resignedly she rose, shutting up her book and laying it on the chair.

  ‘I think I’ll take it with me,’ she said, picking it up again.

  ‘Can’t you sleep?’ He sounded anxious, she thought, as he waited for her reply.

  ‘I sleep very well—but it’s early.’ Faint apology in those last words and his eyes flickered with amusement.

  ‘Obviously you don’t like being sent to bed early.’

  His words amazed her. Was he really teasing her? Dared she broach the subject of what Delia had told him? Was this a propitious occasion for relating her version of the story and leaving him to decide whether or not he still preferred to believe Delia? No, perhaps it was not the right time, she decided, reluctant to risk spoiling the happiest evening she had spent since the night of her birthday party. Given a little longer, John might be more approachable. Another week, perhaps...

  By the following Sunday Kathryn was well enough to take up her usual duties and although John at first raised some objection, she did finally persuade him, for even by half-past ten in the morning the crowds were streaming through the gates. It was a beautiful sunny day, with a clear sky and scarcely a breath of wind; just the sort of day to bring families out for a run in the country.

  ‘Take things easy, then,’ John advised in the somewhat peremptory tones he had recently begun to use to her. ‘At the least sign of tiredness you’re to go into the sitting-room and rest.’

  ‘I will,’ she promised, thrilled and strangely excited by his concern, and by his tone of voice. ‘But I don’t think I’ll feel in the least tired.’

  There was no doubt about the change in him since the accident. Yet always Kathryn was conscious of that underlying sense of self-contempt within him. And although on the whole this past week had been one of quiet harmony, there were still occasions when John would snap at her, and even deliberately subject her to some form of humiliation, and Kathryn gained the impression that any kindness shown to her was eventually regretted.

  If this were true, then it meant that although he believed what he had heard, he could not hate Kathryn as he felt he should. With this conviction growing steadily as the days passed, Kathryn decided that, at the first suitable opportunity, she would talk to John, explaining the circumstances in which she had said those things Delia had so cleverly twisted, and denying ever having thought of exploiting the mishap that had occurred up on the moors. He could then judge for himself—and somehow Kathryn felt convinced he would no longer condemn her.

  By the middle of the afternoon the house was packed, and Kathryn was in fact beginning to feel a little jaded. However, she had no intention of giving in, for although Michael was here, looking after the first floor, they were still a man short.

  ‘They’ll begin drifting out soon,’ she told John, glancing at her watch. It was after four and the sun was already low in the sky.

  ‘Are you tired?’

  ‘Not very.’ And, seeing his expression she added hastily, ‘I’ll be all right, truly.’

  Michael called her from over the banister rail and she left John and went to him.

  ‘These priest holes,’ Michael said when she reached him. ‘Are these kids allowed to play in them?’

  Kathryn had to laugh. It was not the first time children had played an exciting game of hide and seek, using the priest holes.

  ‘Bring them out, Michael—but be cautious; their doting mums are around, don’t forge
t.’

  He grinned and raised his two thumbs.

  ‘I’ll watch myself,’ he promised, grinning, and then, softly in her ear, ‘You look happy. Did the car accident put things right between you two?’

  ‘It hasn’t worked a miracle, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘Delia? Are they still as thick as ever?’

  ‘They’re still friendly.’

  ‘Hmm ... But John’s fond of the parents, isn’t he?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Yes, and so am I.’

  ‘They’re nice. How did they come to produce poison like Delia?’ And without giving her time to reply he went on to ask what Delia was doing here today.

  ‘She’s here? I haven’t seen her.’

  Michael pointed to the window.

  ‘Her car’s down there on the front. I didn’t see her arrive, but the car’s been there for at least half an hour. What’s she doing here?’ he asked again.

  ‘I expect she’s come to see John—what other reason could there be? As you know, neighbours often pop in on open days for a chat with John.’

  ‘Well, watch her. As I’ve said, she’s poison.’

  Not attaching much importance to Michael’s words, Kathryn returned to her duties downstairs. People were leaving—for the doors were to be closed at five o’clock—and for the first time Kathryn was glad to see them go. She felt thoroughly tired and ah she wanted was to sit down and rest. Where was Delia? she wondered. But as neither she nor John were anywhere about Kathryn surmised that they were in the sitting-room having tea.