“Hmm. I doubt that. She wasn’t exactly an ‘animal’ sort of person.”
“What sort of person was she, then?” Norah looked at him curiously, and he scented a trap.
“It hardly matters now, does it?” he said.
“No,” she whispered.
She turned away from him with her head bent and her shoulders shaking. But almost at once she straightened up. He thought he saw her wipe a hand over her eyes and when she next spoke her voice sounded a little muffled, but she’d recovered her composure. “How did you hear about their deaths?” she asked.
“On the television news. I came straight here.”
“And you’ve driven through the night? You must be tired. I’ll fix you a room.”
“I’d rather see my son as soon as possible.”
“Of course. But don’t wake him now. Let the poor, little soul have a good sleep.”
She poured him and herself some coffee. As they drank they each felt a constraint fall over them. In the surprise of seeing each other they’d behaved naturally, but now it seemed strange that they should be sitting here talking together. “What actually happened?” Gavin asked at last. “I didn’t gather much from the news.”
“It happened in a country lane. Apparently a farmer saw everything, and he said a rabbit ran out onto the road—”
“Are you telling me that your father killed Liz to avoid a rabbit?” Gavin demanded sharply.
“Liz was driving.”
“You can’t possibly know that.”
“It was her car. Dad had just given it to her. She loved driving it whenever she could. And the farmer saw her at the wheel. He said she was going too fast to stop, and when the rabbit appeared she swerved and—and they overturned.”
“He gave it to her?” Gavin echoed. “What kind of car was it?” Norah told him. It was the latest version of a fast, powerful make. “What did he think he was doing giving her a car like that?” Gavin demanded angrily.
“It was the one she wanted. He tried to talk her out of it, but Liz was adamant that it was that or nothing. She promised she’d be careful but—she loved going fast.”
His rage was growing. “He must have known that. He should never have given in.”
“Stop it,” she said desperately. “Stop trying to find excuses to make everything Dad’s fault.”
“I know that before she met him she’d never have risked her life to avoid a rabbit. That was his doing, and but for that she might be alive.”
Norah raised her voice so as to be heard above his rage. “Gavin, my father was not to blame for every single thing that’s gone wrong in your life and hers.”
The pain he’d been repressing broke out. “I suppose such an insane act makes perfect sense to you, doesn’t it?” he snapped.
“If you mean would I have swerved to avoid hitting an animal, yes, I would. But I never drove as fast as Liz, nor did Dad. If either of us—”
“It wasn’t her fault,” he shouted. “Before she lived with you and your father she was a woman of common sense, but the two of you seem to have sabotaged her mind.”
“That’s wickedly unfair—”
“Good God, what a household for my son to grow up in! All I can say is the sooner I remove him from your pernicious influence, the better.”
He stopped because he could see he’d lost her attention. Norah was staring over his shoulder at the doorway. Turning, Gavin saw Peter standing there in pajamas. His heart was suddenly full of joy and relief. What did anything else matter beside the reunion with his beloved son?
“Hallo, son,” he said gently, holding out his arms.
But Peter didn’t run into them as he should have done. Instead he stared at Gavin with wide, dismayed eyes, before rushing past him to Norah. Gavin watched, incredulous, as Peter flung himself into Norah’s arms and buried his face against her. He noticed how her arms closed protectively around the child. The two of them stayed locked together for several seconds.
“Your father came to see you, darling,” Norah whispered. “You should at least say hallo to him.”
But Peter refused to turn around, and Gavin thought he heard a muffled cry of, “No! No!”
“Everything’s happened a bit suddenly for him,” she explained apologetically to Gavin.
“Thank you, I don’t need my son explained to me,” he said coolly. “It’s quite clear what has happened. You mentioned a room. I’d be glad of the chance to settle in.”
“Of course.” Norah gave her attention back to Peter. “Darling, I want you to go outside and see if everything’s all right. Some of the animals are a bit unsettled. Calm them down, the way you do.”
“Do they know?” the boy choked.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I think they know. I believe some of them may have known before we did. Go on, now.”
The boy scuttled out without looking at Gavin, who turned furious eyes on Norah. “It’s as well I came when I did—filling my son’s head up with that kind of tomfoolery. Knew before we did! I never heard anything like that.”
“Some of them got very agitated early yesterday evening,” Norah replied. “They started calling out in ways I’ve never heard before and tearing around their pens. We couldn’t understand it. But I know it was about the time of the crash.”
“Coincidence,” Gavin snapped.
“Perhaps. When someone discovers exactly how their senses work, maybe we’ll know. I’ll show you upstairs.”
He’d slept in the house for a week after he’d bought it, lying in the great master bedroom and reveling in making plans which had come to nothing. As they reached the top of the stairs he turned instinctively toward the door of that room, but Norah steered him away. “That’s where they slept,” she said. “It’s full of their things.”
“Of course,” he said curtly, and followed her down the corridor to a room at the end.
“This is always kept made up for guests,” she explained. “This door here is your bathroom. It’s been put in since you were last here.”
“Thank you.” It was hard not to resent her proprietory air. With an effort he stopped himself from pointing out that this was his house and she was the guest, and moreover a guest who would soon be departing. He was glad when she left him alone.
The room looked out over the grounds. Standing at the window he could see Peter moving among the animals, stroking them, resting his head against them. He feasted his eyes on his son. He loved him so much, and it was wonderful to have him back at last.
But did he have him back? He was suddenly dreadfully conscious of the distance between them. And his son hadn’t run to him, but to Norah. He’d stared at his father with the eyes of a stranger and almost seemed to shrink from him.
No! Gavin stopped himself on that thought. His son hadn’t shrunk from him. He’d merely been taken by surprise. But they would put it right, just as soon as he could remove Peter from this place and have him to himself. And that was going to be at the first possible moment.
He found that he was more tired than he’d expected. He showered, then lay down, meaning only to close his eyes for a few moments. But when he awoke five hours had passed and the sun was high in the sky.
He hurried downstairs and began to look for Norah. At last he heard the sound of her voice and followed it until he located the