Slowly the images faded, the song stopped, the fire outside the window was gone. Edward was left with his own blood still wet, still dripping from his cuts. Now he knew what he had done, and he felt the pain opening him up within; he felt his head draw back as if the pain was so great it was splitting him into two beings. And the howl, when it came, was so loud, inhuman, it sounded like the baying of a wounded animal.
At the top of the house, Dewint heard the howl. At first he thought it was an animal, something trapped. As he listened he realized it was coming from the sitting room below.
He crept down the stairs, fearful of what he would discover. The sound was quieter now, and he listened at the door. Gradually the howling subsided and was replaced by sobbing. Concerned, yet too afraid to go and see, he sat on the stairs and waited.
Edward lay face down on the sofa, his head buried in his hands. At long last he was able to ask his father’s forgiveness for what he had done. When Dewint inched open the door, he saw the blood all over the floor, the broken mirror, and Edward’s still figure. Above the fireplace, where the mirror had hung, a red spray of blood resembled a necklace, with small blood drops like pearls. The talisman.
Creeping closer, he saw that Edward was still breathing. He hurried to the telephone.
Alex arrived at the manor within the hour. Dewint let him in and ushered him towards the drawing room. This would be the first time Alex had seen Edward since that terrible Christmas, since the realization that Evelyn was in fact Edward’s son. Any anger or hatred evaporated as soon as he saw his brother, his bloated body, his blotched, boozed-out face and his filthy clothes covered in bloodstains. Like a bum, he half sat, half lay slumped on the sofa staring vacantly at the wall. Aghast, Alex turned to Dewint.
‘Dear God, how long has he been like this?’
‘Ever since the funeral, sah, and I can’t do anything with him. I think he’s dying, sah. He’s been in this room for days.’
Alex looked down into his brother’s face, now hardly recognizable. Looking closely at him, the physical change was frightening. He must have weighed almost twenty stone, and was such a tragic figure that Alex knelt down beside him. ‘Eddie, it’s me, Alex. Can you hear me?’
Suddenly the ghost of Edward’s old self flashed across his dazed face, he gave a sad half smile. ‘Hello, old buddy. How ya doin’?’
‘A helluva lot better than you, by the look of it.’
‘You should have been at her funeral, Alex. She was very fond of you, always liked you. You should have given her that much respect, Alex. She hadn’t a bad thought in her poor mind.’
Dewint carried in a bowl of hot water and a face cloth.
‘It was eerie, sah. He sat at the kitchen table, even carved her name on it, he did. Then he went outside, stood by her tree and the phone rang to say she was gone. He seemed to know, sah, as if he’d come back to bury her... and he’s been this way since he returned from Yorkshire. I’m going to wash your face now, Mr Edward, just lean back. Shockin’ mess you got your hands in.’
‘I’ll call a doctor,’ said Alex. ‘I think someone should be brought in to see him, get him checked over. All this extra weight can’t be good for his heart.’
Alex looked around the dark bottle-strewn room and moved to open the curtains. Suddenly Edward’s voice was strong, angry. ‘Leave them closed, don’t open them.’
Alex shrugged and let the dark velvet curtain fall into place. He moved back to Edward and sat on the edge of the worn sofa.
He tried not to let his anger show, but seeing Edward again and knowing the mayhem he had caused, the trouble he had been through just to get permission to let cheques leave the company without his brother’s signature, the deals he had lost due to delays, constant enquiries about his whereabouts, and not one word... He sighed. ‘Where the hell have you been, Edward, where?’
Slowly Edward turned to him and his bloodshot eyes blinked.‘To hell and back, brother, but I hear you’ve been running things pretty smoothly without me, not made any gigantic steps forwards, but the company is still looking good, brother. But you can take a breather for a while, because I’m back... I’m still alive. How’s Evelyn?’
Alex clenched his fists, and with all his will-power kept his voice quiet, even managed to keep the smile on his face as he answered, ‘Evelyn is just fine. Well, if there’s nothing I can do here, I’ll leave you in Dewint’s obviously capable hands, but I’ll organize a doctor to give you a good check-up, all right? I’ll show myself out.’
‘Not going to say you’re glad to have me back, eh? Aren’t you glad to have me back?’
Alex slammed the door behind him. Edward let loose a deep shuddering sigh, shaking his head. ‘Why do I do it? Norman? Why do I always have to goad him? Even now... Hell, I try so hard, even want to put out my hand to him, hold him, but instead I torment him, why?’
The old pixie face peered up at Edward. ‘Well, sah, maybe because you know that you can. Straightaway you ask him about his son, knowing it’ll be like a knife...’
Edward frowned, then leaned back. ‘And you, you old faggot, know more than you should. Now, leave me alone and let me sleep.’
Dewint’s knees cracked as he straightened up. He paused before he left the room. ‘You carry on this way, sah, tormentin’ him and you will be sorry. Leave his son alone. You can’t always have what you want, that’s the way life is.’
Edward looked at the man who had served him for so many years. He smiled. ‘What did you want that you never got, Norman?’
Dewint cocked his head to one side. ‘Well, I would have liked a round-the-world travel ticket.’
Edward laughed and held up his hand for Dewint to help him up from the sofa. Dewint buckled beneath his weight as Edward leaned heavily against him. ‘Right, Norman, I think it’s time for breakfast television.’
They staggered into the hall and began slowly to mount the stairs. The telephone rang and leaving Edward already out of breath only three steps up, Dewint went back to answer it.
‘It’s Skye Duval, Mr Barkley.’
Edward leaned over the banister to take the phone, and spoke into it briefly. ‘Okay, I’ll sort it out, leave it with me...’ He eased his bulk to sit on the stairs and hung up. ‘Norman, if you get anyone asking for me, I am unobtainable, that clear?’
‘Is it trouble, sah?’
‘You could say that, there’s a warrant out for my arrest.’
Alex decided to go straight to the office. He still had no idea where Edward had been for all that time, but he was back and Alex knew if he intended holding on to the reins, now was the perfect time to have Edward declared unfit to return as his partner. He called George Windsor to arrange for two independent Harley Street doctors to visit Edward that morning. He wanted proof of his alcoholism, proof he was incapable in his present condition of running the company.
At eleven-fifteen Miss Henderson rang through to say two gentlemen had called to speak to Edward. She knew he had returned to London for the funeral, and wondered if he was coming into the office.
‘Who are they?’
‘They wouldn’t give me their names.’
‘Tell them Edward is indisposed and can’t see anybody.’
Two hours later Miss Henderson entered his office. She appeared flustered and said that the two men had returned and were refusing to leave. Alex sighed and briskly told her to find out who the hell they were. She said they were customs officials and now wished to speak to him; they had said it was a very urgent matter. Alex checked his watch, he had already set up the board meeting to discuss his brother’s return and subsequent dismissal, and had two appointments for that morning. Miss Henderson waited for his instructions.