*Young friend?' Agnes sniffed.

Gabriel paced in an agitated state from one bay window to the next, the timbers creaking in agony beneath his feet.

Constance was irritated by the noise. *Gabriel, whatever is the matter with you? These days you are becoming as moody and reserved as your father. Do take a seat! Agnes, fetch me another lap blanket. I feel the cold terribly today.

*My son, as you will no doubt appreciate, is a sensitive child,' Constance told Martha. *My husband heralds from a humble background, his father having made his money from the export of cloth. Robert is not content merely to live the life of an aristocrat. His life force is bent upon commerce and speculative ventures. He is an intense, determined man who thinks ahead. He gets twitchy and morose if he does not have enough mental stimulation. Striving hard, he expects his son to do likewise. Though Gabriel tries to meet his father's demands, he lacks the desire to wield power and accumulate money so evident in Robert and Thurstan.

*It is my belief that Robert sees his own heightened sensitivity reflected in his son and cares not to acknowledge it. Whatever Gabriel does he is doomed not to live up to his father's expectations. As a child, Robert was rule-bound. It left him feeling unwanted and wary of any show of emotional expression, even to his own children.'

A spell of dead silence permeated the room following her effusion of words.

Glancing at Constance's funereal figure, Eppie observed that she had withdrawn a gold framed locket from her black silk reticule. The rosy-cheeked girl in the picture gazed up at Eppie. She had a delicate demeanour. About her shoulders she wore a lace mantle. Pearls, a pompon of flowers, and ribbons decorated her hair.

*This is a miniature portrait of my daughter.' Constance flipped open the locket. *Trapped inside, in a slither of amber, if you look closely Eppie, is a plant beetle.' Eppie stared in amazement at the locust-like insect, its protuberant red eyes set wide apart. *Talia was wearing this locket when she broke her back in the ravine. It is fortunate that I took it from her body; it is the only portrait of her that I possess. My husband hates any reminder of Talia. I believe that it stirs within him remorse about his pernicious treatment of her as a mute. He would destroy the locket if he discovered it. Everything that irks him he destroys: Talia's garden, the family portraits ... me.'

Dipping into the locket, she released the catch of a panel and fetched out a ringlet of blonde hair, bound with silver thread. *This was from Talia. This other wisp I took from Genevieve's body.'

Martha let out a cry of woe and instinctively reached out, taken aback that a tangible link existed between her and her dead child. Almost in the same instance she fell back, staggered to realise how close she had been to stimulating suspicion in the minds of others. *Sorry! A sudden pain.'

Gabriel sought to shorten this unnerving gathering. *We ought to be going, Mother. There's the gong.'

*Really? My hearing as well as my eyesight must be waning. Of course, we must.'

Agnes returned with the coverlet. Tucking it about Lady Constance's lap she spotted the locket which her ladyship was returning to her reticule. *I never knew you'd kept that, your ladyship. That is most peculiar!' She snatched the locket from Constance and glanced sharply at Eppie. The colour drained from her cheeks. *Oh! Your daughter!'

*No!' Martha exclaimed, pulling Eppie towards her, horrified that Agnes had somehow guessed the truth about her theft.

Gabriel leapt to his feet. *How dare you snatch my mother's property?'

*But your sister!' Agnes cried in fright, pointing a finger in Eppie's direction.

Kizzie entered with Martha's tray of tea and cakes. *'ere you lot's having a fine scrimmage,' she cried, forgetful of her position.

*Leave this room immediately!' Gabriel ordered Agnes.

She flashed him an uppish sneer. *You will not bawl at me in such an uncouth manner, for if you do, you spoilt boy, I will inform your father that you scrambled up the chimney like some worthless climbing-boy.'

*Such wicked lies against my son,' Constance cried. *I dismiss you from my employ, this instance.'

*You can't ...' Agnes objected.

*Go!' cried Lady Constance.

Her nose in the air, Agnes departed, but not without a doubting glance back at the bed, wondering whether she had imagined seeing Talia's ghost seated beside Eppie.

Kizzie stood with the silver tea set rattling in her hands.

*If you please, leave the tea and aid my mother.'

*I'll help push!' Eppie offered, leaping down, With not another word, Lady Constance let herself be borne away by Eppie and Kizzie.

Left alone, Martha told Gabriel, *It was kind of you to bring me here, though I guessed it would lead to trouble.'

*That's nothing new. A lot of my bright ideas have a way of going awry.' He stroked the baby's cheek. *She is beautiful, Mrs Dunham and sure to love you.'

Something caught between them as their eyes met, something tragic, something so terrible that neither could bring themselves to voice.

Quietly, he added, *As I know Eppie loves you.'

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

HALFWAY TO HEAVEN.

*All is set, children. Come and eat your fill.'

Set upon a side table was a feast of cakes, biscuits, pastries and savouries.

Helping herself to a syllabub, Eppie thudded onto the settee, and scooped out the delicious pineapple ice with a silver spoon.

Sedately, Gabriel took his seat beside her.

*You say you saw your father in Litcombe?'

*He was on his way to his Gentlemen's Club.' Digging out a book and pencil from his pocket, Gabriel continued with a sketch. Eppie had got used to this habit of his whilst they sat in the Crusader Oak. His sketch book contained drawings of churches, street scenes and ships, but it was his sketches of curious beasts that she loved most: the dragons, animals with human faces, and humans whose limbs had turned into foliage.

*You draw real well,' Eppie said glowingly.

*Talia loved painting,' Constance said. *I have kept little oil paintings that she made of insects and butterflies. Would you care for potted meat rolls, children?'

*I'd rather have one of them cakes,' Eppie answered.

*That is an excellent proposition. I have no compunction about forsaking established customs. It is a stance that has driven a wedge between Robert and I. He insists on strict adherence to formal rules about the house, whilst I do not.'

*Is this brown filling chocolate?' Eppie asked, helping herself to a slab of cake.

*It is. Kizzie bakes me the most superb cakes. Chocolate is rather moreish and one of my chief indulgences, although I regret it adds rather to one's figure.' She raised her feet upon a footstool, groaning slightly with the effort. *As to the exact quantity of such dainties Kizzie has provided that I cannot tell. Owing to declining health I have an infuriating problem with my vision. To my mind there appears to be a plethora of cakes upon the stand, although I am sure I must be seeing double of such delights.'

Eppie grinned. *I'd love to see twice the amount of cakes.'

*The problem for me comes in deciding which are real and which are not, so Eppie, my child, it would gratify me if you would kindly fill my plate with what you consider to be the most delectable of the remaining cakes.'

Having served Lady Constance, Eppie sipped a glass of almond-flavoured ratafia, and went for a closer look at one of Talia's oil painting which hung above the mantelpiece. It showed the manor house in a snowstorm. Her cheeks flushed from the heat of the fire, she stepped back, noticing at her feet what could only be Dawkin's tatty shoes. He must have left them there before climbing the chimney. Spying a broad ribbon dangling at the hearthside, she reached up to tug it.

*Don't ring that,' Gabriel warned. *We'll have Duncan trudging up when we are only half way through. Mother always prefers me to serve afternoon tea.'

*It is much more intimate that way,' Constance said. *Then I relax, whilst Gabriel reads to me.'

Biting into a heavily-buttered crispy roll, Eppie wandered about the room.

Gazing out of the window she saw Alf, his balding head shining like polished copper. Kneeling beside a lightweight four-poster garden bed, he was planting delicate flowers. Beside him was a burlap bag of weeds. He sprinkled the blooms with water from an odd-looking watering can that had spouts set on opposite sides, and drew the lacy drapes to protect the plants from the sun's fierce rays.

Constance stared drowsily into the fire. *Ever since Gabriel told me that you encounter the spirit of my daughter I have harboured a secret desire to meet you, although I find myself at a loss to understand why her ghost manifests before you.'

Eppie returned to the settee. *Betsy said I was born with the eye. When I was little I told her I'd seen Talia dancing before Shivering Falls. She said I must keep my secret, else it'd upset mam. She said that, when the time came, I should only speak about Talia to you and Gabriel.'

*How could this woman have known I would have occasion to converse with you about my daughter?'

Eppie wiped her sticky lips on her scullery maid apron. *Betsy knows everything. She's a witch.'

*For your neighbour's sake, I would refrain from describing her as such.'

*How is it that we can see Talia when she should be in heaven?' Eppie asked.

*I have often wondered that,' Constance said. *Logically it makes no sense. Human beings are composed of physical and spiritual parts. It is her spiritual part which seems to have survived her death and lodged itself in a ghostly watery world. Perhaps she resisted going to the light of the moon, the halfway abode to heaven.'

*If Talia is under the water, how d'ya reckon she breathes?' Eppie asked.

*Once I became fascinated by a spider,' Gabriel said. *It had made its home underwater by spinning a silk nest and filling it with air bubbles. Perhaps Talia breathes in a similar manner?'

Eppie helped herself to another cake. *Maybe her heart doesn't beat? When I'm in sleep I don't breathe. My heart only starts again when my body wakes up.'

*Do you recall, Gabriel,' Constance asked chirpily, *shortly before Talia went from us, she fetched that hideous head from your father's study. To think about it brings tears of laughter to my eyes. She placed it upon the sofa and we listened to your father grumbling to the gruesome thing whilst he was writing at his desk, quite believing it was me. You would think he would be able to tell the difference between me and a wild boar. For a start, I don't have tusks, at least not to my knowledge.

*When he heard us tittering he went quite out of his senses, complaining about the trillions of beetles that must have dropped from it and were scurrying over the upholstery. He worked himself into such a state that he took himself off to his chaise longue in the Brown Room. Now that must be riddled with insects, with all those pitiful beasts residing in there. It would do Robert good to see the comical side of life occasionally.

*Not long after the wild boar frivolity, Talia found that dreadful beetle set into her locket. It gave me quite a turn to behold. I am certain Robert put it there as punishment for her prank. I find it quite amusing to think that his little ploy miscarried for she was charmed by the ghastly creature. Often, I would see her wander around the Brown Room and gaze upon the stuffed creatures. Her father thought she was interested and, when he was in one of his better moods, he would tell her about the animals and where they had lived. However, it is my belief that Talia felt captivated by the creatures because she felt like them. Entombed.

*The night Talia drowned, Thurstan returned, carrying her body. He maintains that she stumbled at the cliff edge and fell to her death. I am no dullard and can see through his ruse. He was forever pestering her, especially if he found her in the Brown Room, when he would ridicule her. She loathed him for it. Since my daughter's death I refuse to speak or even look upon Thurstan, although my fool of a husband continues to entertain his company.

*My one gratification is that, whereas we three can see Talia, I do not believe that Thurstan can. The first time I saw her ghost, he was strolling in the garden. She pulled back a branch and, as he passed, she released it, slapping him in the face.'

Eppie licked her plate, and stared at Lady Constance's lap. *You've left half a cake.'

*Have I? Well, that is good. One should always leave a little for manners.'

*That's a saucy plate, real wasteful.' Reaching over, Eppie swiped the remains and crammed them into her mouth. *I don't give a hoot about manners.'

*That much is apparent,' Constance said, amused. *Doctor Burndread advises me to cut down on the quantity of rich food I consume. Can you believe it? Food is one of the few luxuries left to me.'

She added a drop of lavender essence to her glass of port wine. *I feel the rumblings surging. Hysteric wind colic plagues me constantly. It is most troublesome.'

*My pa's got the same problem.' Eppie had had a tiring day and yawned, noisily.

*Enough of me,' said Lady Constance. *My chatter must seem most tiresome to your young ears.'

*Not a bit.' Hugging her knees, she snuggled back into the plump cushions.

*What about a little entertainment? I understand my son has been teaching you to play the flute. Be so good as to grace me with your talent.'

*I'm no good.'

*I will be the judge of that. Now you may pull the bell ribbon. Stand before my chair so that I can see you.'

Eppie's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she played With Drooping Wings from memory. After an unpromising start she braced herself and, concentrating upon the crumbs scattered where she had wandered around the fireside, she finished the melody with a faultless flourish.

Kizzie and Molly clapped enthusiastically. Eppie, who had not been aware of them slipping into the room, smiled back radiantly.

*Charming, quite charming,' Constance said. *I fear that my wings are drooping with fatigue. I feel strangely giddy and in dire need of repose. Molly, be so good as to ask Fulke Clopton to drive Mrs Dunham and her family home in my curricle.'

*If you please, your ladyship,' Kizzie said, curtseying. *I looked in on Mrs Dunham when I was passing to come and hear Miss Eppie playing and noticed that she had dozed off.'

*In that case, leave her and the baby a short while. Ask Mrs Bellows to come to see me in an hour's time. I need to discuss with her the pressing matter of engaging a suitable invalid-aid.'

Gabriel pocketed his sketch book. *Right, Eppie, there's time to show you something of interest in the threshing barn. I warn you, though, it is pretty frightening and only to be witnessed by those of an intrepid disposition.'

*That's me,' she said, grinning, *as long as it ain't an adder out of a muck heap.'

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.

TALIA'S GARDEN *This is it, a smelly sheep in a wheelbarrow?' Eppie asked. *That's scary?'

*Edmund doesn't know what it's died from.'

She stared at the roof of the thatched cruck-barn. *It's so big in here, I feel like I've been swallowed by a giant fish and am staring up at its bones.' A ladder led to a raised platform where corn was stored in sacks. *Is that a swing?'

*When I was young I played up there.'

Clem, a stable lad with a close-eyed varmity expression, made the more fox-like because of his mop of red hair, strode in, holding a bunch of rats bound by their tails. *I thought you'd like to take a look at these, Master Gabriel. I found them in the stables.'

*Adult male rats occasionally eat their young,' Gabriel said. *Perhaps the mother tied their tails to stop their cannibalistic activity?'

*I'll stick them in your father's study shall I?' Clem asked, sauntering off. *Add to his beasts of curiosity.'

*You'd be risking your life if you did.'

Gabriel turned to Eppie. *This is what I really brought you here to see. Father has invested in a corn threshing machine. It imitates human flailers. When the men were digging up the floor to lay the cogs and pulleys that run from the wheelhouse they exposed hundreds of these horse skulls. They had been packed under the earth.'