The shifting fog free download

The SHIFTING FOG KATE MORTON grew up in the mountains of southeast Queensland She has degrees in Dramatic Art and English Literature, and is currently a doctoral candidate at the University of Queensland Kate lives with her husband and young son in Brisbane You can find more information about Kate and her books at www.katemorton.com KATE MORTON The SHIFTING FOG First published in 2006 Copyright © Kate Morton 2006 All rights reserved No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act Allen & Unwin 83 Alexander Street Crows Nest NSW 2065 Australia Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100 Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218 Email: info@allenandunwin.com Web: www.allenandunwin.com National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry: Morton, Kate, 1976– The shifting fog ISBN 978 74114 800 ISBN 74114 800 I Title A823.4 Set in 11.5/14.25 pt Minion by Bookhouse, Sydney Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press 10 For Davin, who holds my hand on the roller-coaster CONTENTS Part Film Script, Part I The Letter Ghosts Stir The Drawing Room The Braintree Daily Herald The Nursery Waiting for the Recital All Good Things Mystery Maker Trade Magazine Saffron High Street In the West The Times Until We Meet Again Part English Heritage Brochure The Twelfth of July The Fall of Icarus Film Script, Part II Full Report The Photograph New The Dinner A Suitable Husband The Ball and After Part The Times Catching Butterflies Down the Rabbit Hole In the Depths Resurrection The Choice Part Hannah’s Story The Beginning of the End Riverton Revisited Slipping Out of Time The End The Tape The Letter Acknowledgements PART decided to fetch my nightgown and toiletries first A pool of the day’s hot air hit my face when I opened my bedroom door I pulled the electric switch and hobbled to the window, swinging the sash open I stood for a moment, savouring the burst of cool, breathing its faint aroma of cigarette smoke and perfume I exhaled slowly Time for a long, warm bath, then the sleep of the dead I collected my soap from the dressing table beside me then limped toward the bed for my nightgown It was then I saw the letters Two of them Propped against my pillow One addressed to me; one with Emmeline’s name on front The handwriting was Hannah’s I had a presentiment then A rare moment of unconscious clarity I knew instantly that the answer to her odd behaviour lay within I dropped my nightgown and picked up the envelope marked Grace With trembling fingers I tore it open I smoothed the sheet of paper My eyes scanned and my heart sank It was written in shorthand I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the piece of paper, as if, through sheer force of will, its message would become clear Its indecipherability only made me more certain its contents were important I picked up the second envelope Addressed to Emmeline Fingered its rim I deliberated only a second What choice did I have? So help me God, I opened it I was running: sore feet forgotten, blood pulsing, heartbeat in my head, breath catching in time with the music, in time with the music, down the stairs, through the house, onto the terrace I stood, chest heaving, scanning for Teddy But he was lost Somewhere amid the jagged shadows and the blurred faces There was no time I would have to go alone I plunged into the crowd, skimming faces—red lips, painted eyes, wide laughing mouths I dodged cigarettes and champagnes, beneath the coloured lanterns, around the dripping ice sculpture toward the dance floor Elbows, knees, shoes, wrists whirled by Colour Movement Blood pulsing in my head Breath catching in my throat Then, Emmeline Atop the stone staircase Cocktail in hand, head tipped back to laugh, strand of pearls draped from her neck to lasso that of a male companion His coat draped about her shoulders Two would have more chance than one I stopped Tried to catch my breath She righted herself, regarded me from beneath heavy lids ‘Why, Grace,’ she said with careful annunciation, ‘is that the prettiest party dress you could find?’ She threw her head back with laughter as she slipped on the ‘p’ sounds ‘I must speak with you, miss …’ Her companion whispered something; she smacked his nose playfully I tried to breathe ‘… a matter of urgency …’ ‘I’m intrigued.’ ‘… please …’ I said ‘… In private …’ She sighed dramatically, removed her pearls from the fellow’s neck, squeezed his cheeks and pouted ‘Don’t go far now, Harry darling.’ She tripped on her heel, squealed, then giggled, stumbling the rest of the way down the stairs ‘Tell me all about it, Gracie,’ she slurred as we reached the bottom ‘It’s Hannah, miss … she’s going to something … something dreadful, at the lake …’ ‘No!’ said Emmeline, leaning so close I could smell respired gin ‘She’s not going to take a midnight swim, is she? How s-s-scandalous!’ ‘… I believe she’s going to take her life, miss, that is, I know it’s what she intends …’ Her smile slipped, eyes widened ‘Huh?’ ‘… I found a note, miss.’ I handed it to her She swallowed, swayed, her voice leapt an octave ‘But … Have you … Teddy—?’ ‘No time, miss.’ I took her wrist and dragged her into the Long Walk Hedges had grown to meet overhead and it was pitch black We ran, stumbled, kept our hands to the side, brushing leaves to find the way With each turn the party sounds grew more dreamlike I remember thinking this was how Alice must’ve felt, falling down the rabbit hole We were in the Egeskov Garden when Emmeline’s heel snagged and she tumbled I almost tripped over her, stopped, tried to help her up She swept my hand aside, clambered to her feet and continued running There was a noise then in the garden and it seemed that one of the sculptures was moving It giggled, groaned: not a sculpture at all but a pair of amorous escapees They ignored us and we ignored them The second kissing gate was ajar and we hurried into the fountain clearing The full moon was high and Icarus and his nymphs glowed ghostly in the white light Without the hedges, the band’s music and the whooping of the party were loud again Strangely nearer With aid of moonlight we went faster along the small path toward the lake We reached the barricade, the sign forbidding entrance, and finally, the point where path met lake We both stopped in the shelter of the path’s nook, breathing heavily, and surveyed the scene before us The lake glistened silently beneath the moon The summer house, the rocky bank, were bathed in silvery light Emmeline inhaled sharply I followed her gaze On the pebbly bank were Hannah’s black shoes The same I’d helped her into hours before Emmeline gasped, stumbled toward them Beneath the moon she was very pale, her thin figure dwarfed by the large man’s jacket she wore A noise from the summer house A door opening Emmeline and I both looked up A person Hannah Alive Emmeline gulped ‘Hannah,’ she called, her voice a hoarse blend of alcohol and panic, echoing off the lake Hannah stopped stiff, hesitated; with a glance to the summer house she turned to face Emmeline ‘What are you doing here?’ she called, voice tense ‘Saving you?’ said Emmeline, beginning to laugh wildly Relief, of course ‘Go back,’ said Hannah quickly ‘You must go back.’ ‘And leave you here to drown yourself?’ ‘I’m not going to drown myself,’ said Hannah She glanced again at the summer house ‘Then what are you doing? Airing your shoes?’ Emmeline held them aloft before dropping them again to her side ‘I’ve seen your letter.’ ‘I didn’t mean it The letter was a … a joke.’ Hannah swallowed ‘A game.’ ‘A game?’ ‘You weren’t meant to see it until later.’ Hannah’s voice grew surer ‘I had an entertainment planned For tomorrow For fun.’ ‘Like a treasure hunt?’ ‘Sort of.’ My breath caught in my throat The note was not in earnest It was part of an elaborate game And the one addressed to me? Had Hannah intended me to help? Did that explain her nervous behaviour? It wasn’t the party, but the game she wanted to go well? ‘That’s what I’m doing now,’ said Hannah ‘Hiding clues.’ Emmeline stood, blinking Her body jerked as she hiccoughed ‘A game,’ she said slowly ‘Yes.’ Emmeline started to laugh hoarsely, dropped the shoes onto the ground ‘Why didn’t you say so? I adore games! How clever of you, darling.’ ‘Go back to the party,’ said Hannah ‘And don’t tell anyone you saw me.’ Emmeline twisted an imaginary button on her lips She turned on her heel and tripped her way over the stones toward the path She scowled at me as she got close to my hiding spot Her makeup had smudged ‘I’m sorry, miss,’ I whispered ‘I thought it was real.’ ‘You’re just lucky you didn’t ruin everything.’ She eased herself onto a large rock, settled the jacket around her ‘As it is I’ve a swollen ankle and I’ll miss more of the party while I rest I’d better not miss the fireworks.’ ‘I’ll wait with you Help you back.’ ‘I should think so,’ said Emmeline We sat for a minute, the party music reeling on in the distance, interspersed occasionally with a whoop of excited revelry Emmeline rubbed her ankle, pressed it onto the ground every so often, transferring her weight Early morning fog had started to gather in the fens, was shifting out toward the lake There was another hot day coming, but the night was cool The fog kept it so Emmeline shivered, held open one side of her companion’s coat, rifled through the large inside pocket In the moonlight, something glistened, black and shiny Strapped to the coat’s lining I inhaled: it was a gun Emmeline sensed my reaction, turned to me, wide-eyed ‘Don’t tell me: first hand gun you’ve ever seen You are a babe in the wood, Grace.’ She pulled it from the coat, turned it over in her hands, held it out to me ‘Here Want to hold it?’ I shook my head as she laughed, wishing I had never found the letters Wishing, for once, that Hannah hadn’t included me ‘Probably best,’ Emmeline said, hiccoughing ‘Guns and parties Not a good mix.’ She slipped the gun back into her pocket, continued to fossick, locating finally a silver flask She unscrewed the lid and tossed her head back, drank for a long time ‘Darling Harry,’ she said, smacking her lips together ‘Prepared for every event.’ She took another swig and tucked the flask back into the coat ‘Come on then I’ve had my pain relief.’ I helped her up, my head bent over as she leaned on my shoulders ‘That should it,’ she said ‘If you’ll just …’ I waited ‘Ma’am?’ She gasped and I lifted my head, followed her gaze back toward the lake Hannah was at the summer house and she wasn’t alone There was a man with her, cigarette on his bottom lip Carrying a small suitcase Emmeline recognised him before I did ‘Robbie,’ she said, forgetting her ankle ‘My God It’s Robbie.’ Emmeline limped clumsily onto the lake bank; I stayed behind in the shadows ‘Robbie!’ she called, waving her hand ‘Robbie, over here.’ Hannah and Robbie froze Looked at one another ‘What are you doing here?’ Emmeline said excitedly ‘And why on earth have you come the back way?’ Robbie drew on his cigarette, fumbled with the filter as he exhaled ‘Come on up to the party,’ Emmeline said ‘I’ll find you a drink.’ Robbie glanced across the lake into the distance I followed his gaze, noticed something metallic shining on the other side A motorbike, I realised, nestled where the lake met the outer meadows ‘I know what’s happening,’ Emmeline said suddenly ‘You’ve been helping Hannah with her game.’ Hannah stepped forward into the moonlight ‘Emme—’ ‘Come on,’ said Emmeline quickly ‘Let’s all go back to the house and find Robbie a room Find some place for your suitcase.’ ‘Robbie’s not going to the house,’ said Hannah ‘Why, of course he is He’s not going to stay down here all night, surely,’ said Emmeline with a silvery laugh ‘It might be June but it’s rather cold, darlings.’ Hannah glanced at Robbie and something passed between them Emmeline saw it too In that moment, as the moon shone pale on her face, I watched as excitement slid to confusion, and confusion arrived horribly at realisation The months in London, Robbie’s early arrivals at number seventeen, the way she had been used ‘There is no game, is there?’ she said softly ‘No.’ ‘The letter?’ ‘A mistake,’ Hannah said ‘Why’d you write it?’ said Emmeline ‘I didn’t want you to wonder,’ said Hannah ‘Where I’d gone.’ She glanced at Robbie He nodded slightly ‘Where we’d gone.’ Emmeline was silent ‘Come on,’ said Robbie cagily, picking up the suitcase and starting for the lake ‘It’s getting late.’ ‘Please understand, Emme,’ said Hannah ‘It’s like you said, each of us letting the other live the life they want.’ She hesitated: Robbie was motioning her to hurry She started walking backwards ‘I can’t explain now, there’s no time I’ll write: tell you where we are You can visit.’ She turned, and with one last glance at Emmeline, followed Robbie around the foggy edge of the lake Emmeline stayed where she was, hands dug into the coat’s pockets She swayed, shuddered as a goose walked over her grave And then ‘No.’ Emmeline’s voice was so quiet I could barely hear ‘No.’ She yelled out, ‘Stop.’ Hannah turned, Robbie tugged her hand, tried to keep her with him She said something, started back ‘I won’t let you go,’ said Emmeline Hannah was close now Her voice was low, firm ‘You must.’ Emmeline’s hand moved in her coat pocket She gulped ‘I won’t.’ She withdrew her hand A flash of metal The gun Hannah gasped Robbie started running toward Hannah My pulse pumped against my skull ‘I won’t let you take him,’ said Emmeline, hand wobbling Hannah’s chest moved up and down Pale in the moonlight ‘Don’t be stupid, put it away.’ ‘I’m not stupid.’ ‘Put it away.’ ‘No.’ ‘You don’t want to use it.’ ‘I do.’ ‘Which of us are you going to shoot?’ said Hannah Robbie was by Hannah now and Emmeline looked from one to the other, lips trembling ‘You’re not going to shoot either,’ said Hannah ‘Are you?’ Emmeline’s face contorted as she started to cry ‘No.’ ‘Then put the gun down.’ ‘No.’ I gasped as Emmeline lifted a shaky hand, pointing the gun at her own head ‘Emmeline!’ said Hannah Emmeline was sobbing now Great hulking sobs ‘Give it to me,’ said Hannah ‘We’ll talk more Sort it out.’ ‘How?’ Emmeline’s voice was thick with tears ‘Will you give him back to me? Or will you keep him the way you have all of them Pa, David, Teddy.’ ‘It’s not like that,’ said Hannah ‘It’s my turn,’ said Emmeline Suddenly there was a huge bang A firework exploded Everyone jumped A red glow sprayed across their faces Millions of red specks spilled across the lake surface Robbie covered his face with his hands Hannah leapt forward, seized the gun from Emmeline’s slackened fingers Hurried backwards Emmeline was running toward her then, face a mess of tears and lipstick ‘Give it to me Give it to me or I’ll scream Don’t you leave I’ll tell everyone I’ll tell everyone you’ve gone and Teddy will find you and—’ Bang! A green firework exploded ‘—Teddy won’t let you get away, he’ll make sure you stay, and you’ll never see Robbie again and—’ Bang! Silver Hannah scrambled onto a higher part of the lake bank Emmeline followed, crying Fireworks exploded Music from the party reverberated off the trees, the lake, the summerhouse walls Robbie’s shoulders were hunched, hands over his ears Eyes wide, face pale I didn’t hear him at first but I could see his lips He was pointing at Emmeline, yelling something at Hannah Bang! Red Robbie flinched Face contorted with panic Continued to yell Hannah hesitated, looked at him uncertainly She had heard what he was saying Something in her bearing collapsed The fireworks stopped; burning embers rained from the sky And then I heard him too ‘Shoot her!’ he was yelling ‘Shoot her!’ My blood curdled Emmeline froze in her tracks, gulped ‘Hannah?’ Voice like a frightened little girl ‘Hannah?’ ‘Shoot her,’ he said again ‘She’ll ruin everything.’ He was running toward Hannah Hannah was staring Uncomprehending ‘Shoot her!’ He was frantic Her hands were shaking ‘I can’t,’ she said finally ‘Then give it to me.’ He was coming closer now, faster ‘I will.’ And he would I knew it Desperation, determination were loud on his face Emmeline jolted Realised Started running toward Hannah ‘I can’t,’ said Hannah Robbie grabbed for the gun; Hannah pulled her arm away, fell backwards, scrambled further onto the escarpment ‘Do it!’ said Robbie ‘Or I will.’ Hannah reached the highest point Robbie and Emmeline were converging on her There was nowhere further to run She looked between them And time stood still Two points of a triangle, untethered by a third, had pulled further and further apart The elastic, stretched taut, had reached its limit I held my breath, but the elastic did not break In that instant, it retracted Two points came crashing back together, a collision of loyalty and blood and ruin Hannah pointed the gun and she pulled the trigger The aftermath For, oh, there is always an aftermath People forget that Blood, lots of it Over their dresses, across their faces, in their hair The gun dropped Hit the stones with a crack and lay immobile Hannah stood wavering on the escarpment Robbie’s body lay on the ground below Where his head had been, a mess of bone and brain and blood I was frozen, my heart beating in my ears, skin hot and cold at the same time Suddenly, a surge of vomit Emmeline stood frozen, eyes tightly closed She wasn’t crying, not any more She was making a horrible noise, one I’ve never forgotten She was crawing as she inhaled The air catching in her throat on every breath Moments passed, I don’t know how many, and a way off, behind me, I heard voices Laughter ‘It’s just down here a little further,’ came the voice on the breeze ‘You wait until you see, Lord Gifford The stairs aren’t finished—damn French and their shipping hold-ups—but the rest, I think you’ll agree, is pretty impressive.’ I wiped my mouth, ran from my hiding spot onto the lake edge ‘Teddy’s coming,’ I said to no one in particular I was in shock of course We were all in shock ‘Teddy’s coming.’ ‘You’re too late,’ Hannah said, swiping frantically at her face, her neck, her hair ‘You’re too late.’ ‘Teddy’s coming, ma’am.’ I shivered Emmeline’s eyes snapped open A flash of silver blue shadow in the moonlight She shuddered, righted herself, indicated Hannah’s suitcase ‘Take it to the house,’ she said hoarsely ‘Go the long way.’ I hesitated ‘Run.’ I nodded, took the bag and ran toward the woods I couldn’t think clearly I stopped when I was hidden and turned back My teeth were chattering Teddy and Lord Gifford had reached path’s end and stepped out onto the lake bank ‘Dear God,’ said Teddy, stopping abruptly ‘What on earth—?’ ‘Teddy darling,’ said Emmeline ‘Thank God.’ She turned jerkily to face Teddy and her voice levelled ‘Mr Hunter has shot himself.’ The Letter Tonight I die and my life begins I tell you, and only you You have been with me a long time on this adventure, and I want you to know that in the days that follow, when they are combing the lake for a body they will never find, I am safe We go to Germany first, from there I cannot say Finally, I will see Nefertiti’s head mask! I have given you a second note addressed to Emmeline It is a suicide note for a suicide that will never take place She must find it tomorrow Not before Look after her, Grace She will be all right She has so many friends There is one final favour I must ask of you It is of the utmost importance Whatever happens, keep Emmeline from the lake tonight Robbie and I leave from there I cannot risk her finding out She won’t understand Not yet I will contact her later When it is safe And now to the last Perhaps you’ve already discovered the locket I gave you is not empty? Concealed inside is a key, a secret key to a safe box in Drummonds on Charing Cross The box is in your name, Grace, and everything inside it is for you I know how you feel about gifts, but please, take it and don’t look back Am I too presumptuous in saying it is your ticket to a new life? Goodbye, Grace I wish you a long life full with adventure and love Wish me the same … I know how well you are with secrets ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I would like to thank the following: First and foremost, my best friend, Kim Wilkins, without whose encouragement I would never have started, let alone finished Davin for his endurance, empathy and unwavering faith Oliver for expanding the emotional boundaries of my life and for curing me of writer’s block My family: Warren, Jenny, Julia and, in particular, my mother Diane, whose courage, grace and beauty inspire me Herbert and Rita Davies, dear friends, for telling the best stories Be brilliant! My fabulous literary agent, Selwa Anthony, whose commitment, care and skill are peerless Selena Hanet-Hutchins for her efforts on my behalf The sf-sassies for writerly support Everybody at Allen & Unwin, especially Annette Barlow, Catherine Milne, Christa Munns, Christen Cornell, Julia Lee and Angela Namoi Julia Stiles for being everything I hoped an editor would be Dalerie and Lainie for their assistance with Oliver (was ever a little boy so loved?), and for giving me the precious gift of time The lovely people at Mary Ryan’s for adoring books and making great coffee For matters of fact: thank you to Mirko Ruckels for answering questions about music and opera, Drew Whitehead for telling me the story of Miriam and Aaron, Elaine Rutherford for providing information of a medical nature, and Diane Morton for her extensive and timely advice on antiques and customs, and for being an arbiter of good taste Finally, I would like to mention Beryl Popp and Dulcie Connelly Two grandmothers, dearly loved and missed I hope Grace inherited a little from each of you The Shifting Fog is a work of fiction; nonetheless, its setting in history demanded extensive research It is impossible for me to list here every source consulted; however, I would like to mention a few without whom the book would have been much the worse Mary S Lovell’s The Mitford Girls, Cressida Connolly’s The Rare and the Beautiful, Laura Thompson’s Life in a Cold Climate, Anne de Courcy’s 1939: The Last Season and The Viceroy’s Daughters, and Victoria Glendinning’s Vita provide colourful illustrations of country house life in the early part of the twentieth century For more general historical information, Stephen Inwood’s A History of London and the Reader’s Digest Yesterday’s Britain are both very informative Beverley Nichols’s Sweet and Twenties, Frances Donaldson’s Child of the Twenties, Punch magazine, the letters of Nancy Mitford, Evelyn Waugh and Katherine Mansfield offer excellent first-hand accounts of literary lives in the 1920s Noel Carthew’s Voices from the Trenches: Letters to Home and Michael Duffy’s website firstworldwar.com are two excellent sources on the First World War For information on Edwardian etiquette I turned, as have countless young ladies before me, to The Essential Handbook of Victorian Etiquette by Professor Thomas E Hill and to Manners and Rules of Good Society or Solecisms to be Avoided published by ‘A Member of the Aristocracy’ in 1924 All bent truths and errors of fact I claim as my own Table of Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Page Dedication Contents Part Film Script The Letter Ghosts Stir The Drawing Room The Braintree Daily Herald The Nursery Waiting for the Recital All Good Things Mystery Maker Trade Magazine Saffron High Street In the West The Times Until We Meet Again Part English Heritage Brochure The Twelfth of July The Fall of Icarus Film Script Full Report The Photograph New The Dinner A Suitable Husband The Ball and After Part The Times Catching Butterflies Down the Rabbit Hole In the Depths Resurrection The Choice Part Hannah’s Story The Beginning of the End Riverton Revisited Slipping Out of Time The End The Tape The Letter Acknowledgements ... ceiling The BUTLER opens the front door to greet the well-dressed man and woman from the car We not pause but cross to the back of the entrance hall and the broad French doors that lead to the BACK... climbed up to kneel on the chair and peered outside The room was at the back of the house and very high I could see all the way past the rose garden, over the trellises and to the south fountain... Beyond, I knew, lay the lake, and on the other side, the village and the cottage in which I had spent my first fourteen years I pictured Mother, sitting by the kitchen window where the light was best,