‘I daresay the Church wouldn’t necessarily have worried about that,’ said Theo. ‘It’s harboured some odd things in its long history, hasn’t it? Religious conflicts and spies.’
‘It’s switched sides a few times as well,’ said Catherine rather caustically.
‘Would Reverend Mother or the Bursar remember the children coming here?’ said Theo.
‘It’s over thirty years ago. I don’t think either of them were here then,’ said Catherine. ‘But it might be possible to write to the Romanian House – or email them – to ask if they’ve kept any records.’
‘Would you do that? Or could I?’
‘I’d have to ask Reverend Mother if I can give you the address. I shouldn’t think she’d mind, though.’
‘Thank you. Did you ever meet Sister Teresa?’ he said, as they went up the second flight of stairs.
‘She came over for the centenary celebration last year,’ said Catherine. ‘She’s getting on – she must be eighty – but she’s still very spry and bright. The attic’s up here – the stairs are a bit narrow, so be careful.’
The attic was quiet and dim, and as Catherine found the light switch tiny cobwebs stirred in corners.
‘As a storage place,’ said Theo, surveying it, ‘it’s unnaturally tidy.’
‘Is it? I haven’t got much experience of attics. The centenary stuff’s over there, I think. Yes, look, two boxes, labelled Centenary.’
‘These look like the Bursar’s original notes,’ he said, lifting one of the boxes out and setting it on a battered table. ‘Yes, she’s made a folder of odd letters and accounts. Would she mind if I read this, d’you think? Or even borrowed the folder for a day or so?’ Then, seeing her hesitation, said, ‘I’ll ask her myself if that’s easier. I can truthfully say I want to find out what happened to the children.’
Catherine looked at him. ‘Is there a bit more to this than an idea for a plot?’
At first she thought he was not going to answer, but then he said, ‘Yes. There’s quite a lot more to it, and I hope I can tell you soon. But at the moment it’s not my secret to tell.’
‘Is it something to do with your cousin’s death?’
‘It might be. Will you trust me as far as that?’
‘Yes,’ she said at once. ‘Will you trust me to ask the Bursar very discreetly if you can borrow her notes?’
‘I’d trust you with anything, Catherine,’ he said, softly, and quite suddenly the attic had become an intimate cave, and the world beyond it ceased to matter or even exist. He was standing so close to her Catherine could see the flecks of black in his grey eyes. She had the absurd thought that if he touched her she might faint.
But when he did touch her, she did not.
He put a hand up to her face, tracing the line of her cheekbone and then her lips, and it was as if his fingers set up a tiny series of electric sparks across her skin. Almost without realizing what she was doing, Catherine stepped forward, and his arms went round her.
She thought he said, ‘Catherine, this is the maddest thing I’ve ever done,’ but then he was kissing her. It was a soft, deep exploratory kiss, and she had to cling to him to stop herself falling over because the attic was whirling round, and even if this was the maddest thing ever, it was the most marvellous feeling. I’ll have to stop in a minute, she thought, I can’t do this, I can’t. But just another minute…
When at last he released her, there was a faint flush of colour across his cheeks, and his eyes were lit to brilliance.
‘I expect I should be sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not, though. But I didn’t mean to do that. You have the most extraordinary effect on me.’
‘I don’t want you to be sorry,’ said Catherine, surprised to hear that her voice came out with hardly a tremor. ‘Oh, Theo, I wanted you to do that ever since…’
‘Ever since we met?’
‘More or less.’ Ever since I watched you with Charmery all those years ago, she was thinking, and ever since I held your dead son in my arms.
‘What now?’ he said. ‘Do we talk about this, or do I go away politely and leave you to—’
‘Untangle my emotions? Yes,’ she said, frowning. ‘I think I should do that. I think I need to be on my own…’ This time her voice did tremble.
‘All right. I’ll come back to see you in a couple of days,’ he said. ‘But I’ll be at Fenn if you want to talk to me before then.’
‘I know.’
‘Will you have to – to confess or something?’
‘Yes.’
‘Will that be embarrassing?’
‘I should think the Church has heard worse than—’
‘Than a confession of a snatched kiss in an attic? Was that what you were going to say?’
‘Was that all it was? Or an experiment to see what it would feel like to kiss a nun? Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Was it what you were thinking?’
‘Yes.’
‘You know it wasn’t that,’ said Theo. ‘You must know how – how strongly you attract me, and… Dammit, I’m even afraid to use the ordinary chat-up lines with you!’ He thrust his fingers angrily through his hair. ‘This is probably the most bizarre conversation I’ve ever had – and that’s saying quite a lot,’ he said. ‘This would normally be the point where I’d ask you out, but I suppose I can’t do that. Or can I?’
‘I don’t know.’ For a dreadful moment Catherine thought she might burst into tears, but if she did he would take her in his arms again and then she would not be able to think properly. She made a huge effort and said, ‘I think we’d better go.’
As they went downstairs neither of them spoke, but when they got to the main doors, Catherine managed to recall the main purpose of Theo’s visit, and said, ‘I’ll ask the Bursar about borrowing her notes. And I’ll ask Reverend Mother if you can have the Romanian address.’
‘Thank you.’ In a different voice, he suddenly said, ‘Catherine – will you promise me you’ll be careful until – well, until I solve what’s going on.’
‘Is something going on?’
‘I think so. I’ll tell you about it properly when I can, but until then… Don’t go anywhere on your own, and be aware that – that people aren’t always what they seem.’ For a moment Catherine thought he was going to reach out to touch her face again, but he did not. He merely gave her a half nod and went out into the bleak morning.
As Theo went down the drive he felt as if his emotions had been shredded. I must have been mad, he thought. Or was I actually being very sane? If he had met Catherine in the ordinary way, he would have wanted to take things further; he would have wanted to get to know her better, and he thought he might have discovered he wanted her in his life for a long time. He tried to think how he was going to deal with this but had no idea. Then he tried to imagine how Catherine would deal with it, and had even less idea. He remembered Charmery and, with a stab of wry bitterness, wondered why he seemed unable to fall for someone who was straightforwardly available.
One of the nuns was walking up the drive towards him, slightly hunched against the cold morning. At this distance Theo could not see who it was, but as she drew nearer he recognized her, and all thoughts of Catherine fled from his mind. Sister Miriam. Mara Ionescu. He experienced a wild impulse to tell her that he knew about her sad, dramatic early life. To say, I know how you listened to all those fire lit stories, and how you cowered in that appalling well-house and covered your ears as Annaleise screamed her way to her death. I know how you resisted the gaolers in Jilava and why you eventually gave in and made that confession. Did you make another confession, though, Mara? thought Theo, as the thin figure came nearer. Did you creep into Fenn House that night and use the laptop to type a confession of another murder? What’s really going on behind that impassive face?