The White House - Book 6, The Porth Kerensa Series

Chapter Twelve

James was on the decking, sipping coffee and smoking a cigarette, when Elise went downstairs the following morning. She stood at the sink and watched him, trying to ascertain if he was still in a foul mood and if she should beat a quiet retreat for the day. She had almost bitten through her lip the night before, rather than risk being the spark that lit the inferno, and she’d wander the cold moors all day if it meant keeping the peace.

She had always considered James to be a remarkably well-rounded man, considering his childhood in out of children’s homes and foster care. He was a man with an abundance of patience that usually made him slow to anger and it was a trait that helped make him an excellent teacher. Yet, since they’d moved to the white house, a hostile fiery fury seemed to be burning inside him.

For the first time in all the years they’d known each other she was beginning to feel frightened of her husband.

She gathered her tools from the utility room, slipped her jacket on and went out into the front garden. The soil was soft from the recent rainfall and Elise made swift work of digging the holes she needed to plant her spring bulbs in. The weak winter sun gave off little warmth against the sharp ocean breeze, but Elise barely noticed the cold as she moved around the garden, carefully placing the bulbs in the holes she’d dug.

“Good morning, Elise,” Ben said behind her. “The garden is going to look fabulous by the time you’ve finished with it.”

“That’s the plan,” she replied, standing up and turning to smile a greeting at him. “Although, I suppose I should confess to being a complete amateur when it comes to gardening. I’m just winging it and hoping it doesn’t go horribly wrong.”

“I’m sorry you cancelled our meeting yesterday,” he said, regretfully. “I was looking forward to helping you out with your problem.”

Elise glanced around and began to lead them towards the flowerbeds near the end of the drive. “There really is no problem, Ben,” she murmured, awkwardly. “I realised I’d simply let my imagination get the better of me and I should stop being so silly. I’ve dealt in reality for far too long to start giving in to such ridiculous flights of fancy and as much as I appreciate your offer of help I’d prefer it if we didn’t talk of it again.”

Ben nodded, frowning. “I understand, Elise. Enjoy your weekend.”

She watched him walk away and she knew she’d offended him; however, she didn’t call him back to apologise. It was better this way. It was for the best that she didn’t keep seeing him when James was at work, however innocent it might be, and it was definitely not wise to let his ‘psychic’ friend visit the house. If James ever found out she’d dabbled in that kind of thing he’d never believe she hadn’t finally lost the plot completely.

She finished planting the bulbs and covering them with fertilised soil before going back into the house. James was standing in the kitchen, staring out the window, in the same place she had stood and watched him. When he turned his brow was furrowed and his grey eyes were narrowed.

She smiled, carefully and said, “I’m heading out soon, I thought I’d drive to Bodmin and get some sketches done while the weather isn’t too bad.”

“It’s fucking freezing out there,” he snapped. “Only a fool would go out on the moors on a day like today. Or maybe you think I’m foolish enough to believe that’s what you’re actually going to do.”

“It’s not that cold; I’ve already been out, gardening.” She laughed, falsely casual, and said, “Don’t be silly, James; what else do you think I’d be doing?”

His eyes were cold and steely when he looked at her. A shiver ran down her spine and her heart began to race as dread crept through her body. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold and brusque. “I don’t know, Elise. Why don’t you tell me?”