‘There,’ she said, stepping back. ‘That’s better.’
‘Shoot me now,’ I said. ‘Before anyone sees me.’
‘You look very stylish!’
‘I do not do the style thing.’
‘You do now; unless you want your brains to freeze inside your head. It’s cold out there!’
‘I had noticed.’
We left the cupboard and approached the front door. Weighed down by our big furs, we didn’t so much walk, as waddle. I pulled the door open, and we stood together in the doorway, looking out on a pristine white world. The harsh cold hit my face like a slap. Penny squeaked loudly and shuddered, despite her many layers of clothing. I didn’t.
A light fog had descended since I arrived, pearly grey mists hanging heavily on the air, cutting off the long view. But the snow had stopped falling, and the wind had quietened down. The outside scene was all peace and quiet, and eerily serene, as though the whole world was waiting for something to begin. I stepped carefully forward, and my heavy boots sank deep into the snow. Penny followed quickly after me, slamming the front door shut behind her.
I took my time, looking around. Snow-covered lawns stretched away in every direction, entirely clean and unmarked, until they disappeared into the flat grey mists. White shapes of covered cars crouched in front of us, while indistinct buildings stretched away to either side of the Manor. Certain vague shapes further away might have been trees or hedges. Winter had laid her hand heavily across Belcourt land, as though trying to wipe out every mark Humanity had made on the landscape. The air was savagely cold, searing my lungs every time I took a breath. Penny huddled in beside me, making quiet noises of distress with every breath, looking around her with wide startled eyes, like a child taken to see Santa Claus’s grotto for the first time.
And then she grinned at me, delighted with her winter wonderland, and I couldn’t help but grin back.
‘If you see a sleigh with reindeer, grab the presents and run,’ I said.
‘The elves would take you down before you managed ten paces,’ said Penny. ‘This way …’
She led the way forward, stomping clumsily through the deep snow, and I strode easily along beside her, kicking the snow out of my way. The grey wall of fog receded before us, reluctantly revealing more and more of the snow-covered grounds. It was getting to be late in the afternoon, and an ominous twilight was descending. There wasn’t a sound anywhere, apart from the crisp crunching of our boots in the snow. Penny looked this way and that, sometimes grabbing on to my arm for support. I let her.
‘I grew up in these gardens,’ she said breathlessly, and just a bit giddily from all the effort. ‘I remember running wild in the gardens, as a small child. I used to make a real mess of the ceremonial flower beds, convinced I was helping. No one ever said anything. I was an indulged child, then. See those great shapes, there, just looming out of the fog? Topiary creatures, cut out of hedges. Looking at them now, buried under the snow, you’d never know what they were supposed to be. I can only tell because I recognize the locations. That one is a giant bunny; that is a lion and a unicorn; and that’s a giant cock. Well done; you didn’t go for the obvious comment.’
‘I wouldn’t dare,’ I said.
And then I stopped abruptly and looked back at the Manor. I could still make the whole thing out, even through the mists. I stared at the house steadily, for a long moment.
Penny looked at the house, and then at me. ‘What? What is it?’
‘I thought … I saw a light,’ I said. ‘Shining out of one of the windows on the top floor. Just for a moment. As though someone inside had opened the shutters, to look out.’
Penny stared dubiously at the top floor. ‘There’s no one up there, Ishmael. All those rooms are locked up and sealed off.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘But I’m sure I saw the same thing when I first arrived here. As though someone was taking a look at me. Taking a specific interest in me.’
‘You think someone in the house is watching you?’ said Penny.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I wonder why.’
Penny sniffed loudly. ‘If you ask me, it’s probably Roger. Spying on us. Let’s give him something to look at!’
She grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me hard. I stood very still. Her mouth was warm and kind on mine, and her body was a comfort and a promise. Penny stepped back, looked at me for a moment, and then turned and waved cheerfully at the manor house.
‘Get a good eyeful, Roger?’
There was no light at any of the windows, not the slightest movement at any of the shutters.
Penny turned back to me. ‘I don’t normally throw myself at people, Ishmael. It’s just … there’s something different about you.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘There is.’
‘I have to say, I usually expect more reaction from a man when I stick my tongue half way down his throat.’
‘I hardly know you,’ I said steadily. ‘And I will be leaving here, once I’ve finished my business with the Colonel.’
‘So?’ said Penny. ‘Carp that diem, that’s what I always say. Don’t you like me?’
‘I haven’t decided yet,’ I said.
She looked at me. I don’t think she was used to such plain speaking. ‘Is there … somebody else?’ she said, finally.
‘No,’ I said. ‘There hasn’t been anyone else for a long time now. Love … is for other people.’
‘You know,’ said Penny, ‘for someone who’s only a few years older than me, you do talk like an old man, some-times.’
‘I get that a lot,’ I said. ‘As a wise man once said: it’s not the years, it’s the mileage. Now, tell me about the other buildings.’
‘You’re sure that’s what you want to talk about?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re a mystery, Ishmael Jones,’ said Penny.
‘I get that a lot too,’ I said.
We walked on. Penny didn’t try to hold my arm any longer. She pointed out the terraced row of Victorian cottages, set out on one side of the manor house, and the medieval tithe barn on the other. Just great dark shapes now, looming out of the thickening fog. Again, no lights anywhere, and not a sound to be heard.
‘All the cottages are locked and boarded up for the winter,’ said Penny.
‘No signs of habitation,’ I said.
‘Daddy rents them out as guest cottages, from spring to autumn,’ said Penny. ‘The weather’s always too harsh, come winter.’
‘And the tithe barn?’ I said.
‘Oh, that goes way back. Fourteenth century, if I remember right. Certainly it was here long before the manor house. Just a big old barn, originally, for storing the village’s grain. And then, more recently, for storing heavy farm machinery. If you’re thinking James could be hiding out in there, forget it. No doors, you see; just two great openings, front and back. Open to the elements … He’d be frozen solid, if he was in there.’
‘Think I’ll take a look anyway,’ I said.
Penny shrugged, making a good show of indifference. I led the way, slamming my boots through the thick snow. Penny had to struggle to keep up. Our boots sank in deep, making loud crunching noises, as though warning the barn we were on our way. The front opening turned out to be an arch ten feet high and almost as wide. Great drifts of snow had blown through, covering large areas of the heavily ridged stone floor. I had to climb up and over the main drift to get inside. Penny made hard going of it, so I reached back, grabbed one arm, and hauled her up and over. She let out a loud squeak of surprise at how strong I was, and hung on to me with both hands till she got her breath back. I let her. I knew it wasn’t fair to encourage her, but I’m not always as strong as I should be.
Inside, the tithe barn was just a huge open space, deep and dark and gloomy, with long shafts of grim grey light falling through slit windows high up on the bare stone walls. Rough stone, thick and solid, rising up to a high-raftered wooden ceiling. Just a place to store things. The only way the Colonel could have survived any time in here would have been to build an igloo, and I didn’t see one anywhere. I looked carefully into the shadows, but nothing looked back. Great hulking shapes took up most of one end of the barn: ancient farm machinery, under drooping tarpaulins.