A Finer End

But the feeling’s still there.’
    ‘Maybe it’s just stress, system overload. Try not to fret, darling.’
    ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ murmured Fiona, but he was not at all convinced she meant it.
    Bram held her more tightly. ‘I love you, Fi. You know that, don’t you?’
    ‘Of course I do. How could you think otherwise?’ She patted his hand. ‘Go on. I’ll be fine, I promise.’
    With that he had to be content.
     
    *
     
    Jack carefully cracked open the door to the spare bedroom and peered in. Faith lay on her side, her hands curled into fists under her chin. The innocence of her face, relaxed in sleep, tugged at his heart. She could be his child, he thought, his little Olivia, if she had lived to grow up.
    Turning away, he closed the door quietly and returned to the kitchen. Not knowing who else to call, he had got David Sanborne out of bed the previous night to check on Faith. Exhaustion, stress, a chill from exposure, David had pronounced — nothing that a hot water bottle and plenty of rest wouldn’t cure, but the girl had better stop such silliness if she didn’t want to induce labour prematurely.
    But once Jack had got a fairly coherent story from her, Faith had continued to fret about Garnet until he’d agreed to ring the police. The duty officer in Yeovil informed him that they couldn’t report Garnet Todd missing until at least twenty-four hours had passed. Jack had left a message for Detective Inspector Greely, and only then had Faith fallen into a fitful sleep.
    After a few hours’ sleep himself, Jack had spent the morning fielding phone calls and checking with the hospital. Winnie’s condition remained stable, and Suzanne Sanborne had offered to spend the morning with her.
    In the meantime, he waited for his cousin’s promised arrival. Duncan had rung the previous evening to say he would be coming for the weekend. Although relieved, Jack had begun to worry. How was he going to explain the events of the last few months? Would Duncan think him as mad as the police obviously did? It didn’t matter, he told himself. He must convince Duncan that Winnie was in danger; and now he’d begun to fear for Faith too.
    How much of the girl’s rambling last night had been delirium? Nick had rung this morning, saying he believed Garnet had struck Winnie with her van — but why would Garnet Todd do such a thing? And if it were true, where was Garnet now?
    Filling the kettle from the tap, Jack spooned loose tea into his mother’s old brown teapot. Hadn’t he read once that tea stimulated one’s mental processes? If that were the case, he should be competing with Sherlock Holmes after another cup, but he was no further along in finding answers.
    He’d just poured boiling water over the fresh tea leaves when the doorbell rang. Jack hurried to the door and swung it wide.
    As he grasped his cousin’s hand, he saw that Duncan had lost the hollow-eyed look he’d remarked on when he’d seen him last. But who was ‘the pretty redhead with him?
    She held out her hand and gave him a warm smile. ‘Jack, I’m Gemma James. I take it Duncan didn’t tell you I was coming?’ The look she cast at his cousin was affectionately withering. ‘Your manners, love, leave something to be desired.’
     
    They had got the awkwardness of their accommodation out of the way first. Jack had apologized profusely, explaining that he’d just put someone in the room fitted out for guests, but he’d move his things into his old room and give them the master bedroom. Encouraged by Gemma’s well-placed kick at his ankle under the kitchen table, Kincaid had demurred, saying they’d find a nearby B &  B, and Jack had recommended an establishment near the Abbey.
    Gemma had breathed an inward sigh of relief. She found the dark old house with its ugly Victorian furniture depressing, and the mass of Glastonbury Tor rising from the back garden made her feel unexpectedly claustrophobic. It was as if the hill might lean over and swallow the house at any moment.
    Over cups of tea, Jack had haltingly recounted his experiences with the automatic writing, his meeting with Winnie Catesby, the gradual involvement of the others in the group, and the disappearance yesterday of Garnet Todd.
    If Kincaid felt any surprise at his cousin’s story, he didn’t show it. His expression remained neutral and sympathetic, a demonstration of his listening skills, and Gemma realized how acutely she missed working with him.
    ‘Can you do