15
Abigail Sturgess sat propped up in bed, three pillows behind her back, her frail shoulders covered with the cashmere afghan that was the first thing she had demanded after awakening to find herself in the hospital. Her skin, almost translucent, seemed to sag around her features, but her eyes were as bright as ever as she regarded her family with something that Carolyn felt was very close to disdain.
“It’s nothing more than a minor inconvenience,” the old woman insisted. “If anyone sends flowers, I shall have them thrown away — flowers are for funerals, and a slight heart attack hardly qualifies me for the grave.”
“There was nothing slight about it, Mother,” Phillip replied. “You’re probably going to be here for a while.”
“I’d rather be dead, and I shall tell that to the first doctor who suggests that I can’t rest just as well in my own home as I can here.” But despite her words, Abigail knew she would stay in the hospital until her strength returned, however long it took. And right now she felt much worse than she was prepared to admit.
“But what happened, Grandmother?” Tracy demanded. “What were you doing down there?”
Abigail turned to smile at her granddaughter. “Why, I wasn’t doing much of anything, darling. I simply went down to see just what it was that your father is doing to the old place, that’s all.”
Tracy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “After everybody had gone home, Grandmother?”
“Mr. Rogers had not gone home,” Abigail sniffed. “Although had I wished to go in alone, who was to stop me?”
“The liability laws, and the fine print in the contract might have given you a certain amount of pause,” Phillip observed dryly, “had you bothered to read them. But Tracy’s right — whatever possessed you to go down there today? And why didn’t you ask me to take you? I would have been more than glad to show you around.”
“And bore me with a lot of technical claptrap I care nothing about,” Abigail said with more peevishness than she truly felt. “I was up in the mausoleum and suddenly I had an urge to go down to the mill and have a look around.” She glanced at Tracy, who was watching her with more shrewdness than she would have expected from a girl of thirteen. “At any rate, it doesn’t really matter, does it? All that happened was that I went down to the basement, and I had a heart attack. I’ll grant you it was inconvenient, and it would have been a lot easier for us all if I’d done this at home, but I didn’t, and that’s that.”
Phillip gazed at his mother speculatively. “The mausoleum,” he repeated. “Why did you go up there?”
Abigail’s eyes hardened slightly. “Your father is buried there, Phillip. Do you need more of an explanation as to why I might go there?”
“Under the circumstances, Mother, I think I do,” Phillip replied. “You’ve never been in the habit of walking up that trail by yourself, and you certainly haven’t driven a car in years. Yet today you not only hiked up to the mausoleum, but you then took the car and drove yourself down to the mill, where you proceeded to have a heart attack.”
“Perhaps,” Abigail grated, “the walk and the drive were simply too much for me.”
“And perhaps,” Phillip shot back, “there’s something else going on. Something you’re not telling us about.”
Abigail glared at her son. “I do not intend to be cross-examined by you, Phillip.” Then, appearing to relent, she eased herself back against the pillows. “I was thinking about Conrad, that’s all. So I went up to the mausoleum to be nearer to him. I find it peaceful up there.” She smiled bitterly. “One day, I suppose, I shall find my peace there on a more permanent basis, shan’t I?”
No one said anything.
“As for the mill, today I simply decided to go down there and see if I could discover what it was about it that so upset your father.”
The door opened, and a smiling nurse bustled in. “I’m afraid our time’s up,” she announced with exaggerated cheer. “Doctor made us promise to keep our visit short this evening, and now we need our nap.”
Carolyn rose from her chair, and picked up her purse, while Tracy leaned over to kiss her grandmother. Abigail accepted the kiss, but her eyes remained fixed on the nurse. “I made no such promises,” she announced. “Furthermore, I have no intention of taking a nap. I intend to talk to my son for a few more minutes. ”
“Mrs. Sturgess—” the nurse began.
“It won’t work, Nurse,” Phillip said, sighing and lowering himself into the chair his wife had just vacated. “Better to give her a few more minutes than waste your time arguing with her, and end up giving in to her anyway.”
“But Doctor said—”
“Doctor was a stupid child, and I can’t imagine that he’s grown into a much brighter adult,” Abigail announced. “Now please leave me alone with my son.”
The nurse hesitated, then gave up. Besides, she privately agreed with Abigail Sturgess’s assessment of the doctor, and from what she’d seen of Mrs. Sturgess in the two hours since she’d arrived in the hospital, she suspected the old woman was a lot stronger than the doctor thought. “All right,” she said. “But please, Mrs. Sturgess, not all night, okay?”
Abigail nodded slightly, and offered her hand to Carolyn when the younger woman made as if to kiss her on the cheek. “I expect to be home in a few days,” she said. “I shall have to trust you to supervise Hannah until then. Please tell her—”
“I’m sure Hannah knows exactly what to do, Abigail,” Carolyn interjected. “Just try to relax, and get well, all right?”
Abigail’s lips tightened, but she didn’t speak again until Carolyn and Tracy had followed the nurse out of the room and the door was shut. “As if she really wants me to get well,” she began, but this time Phillip cut her off.
“Of course she wants you to get well, Mother,” he said. “But sometimes I can’t imagine why, considering the way you treat her. Now, what is it you want to tell me that you wouldn’t say in front of Carolyn?”
“And Tracy,” Abigail pointed out.
“Indeed?” Phillip asked. “Somehow I thought it was mostly Carolyn you wanted to be rid of.”
Abigail shook her head. “Not this time. What I have to say, I shall say only to you.” Her head turned, and her eyes fixed on her son with an intensity Phillip had rarely seen. “Phillip, you must close the mill.”
Phillip groaned. “For God’s sake, Mother. This is absolutely ridiculous. I thought when Father died, we could be done with all that nonsense. Please don’t you start in on it now. Besides, it’s far too late to change our minds. The investment is too big, and the contracts have been signed. I couldn’t cancel them, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. There’s no way—”
“If you don’t close the mill, more people will die there,” Abigail interrupted. “It isn’t going to stop, Phillip — don’t you see? It happened to Conrad Junior, and now it’s happened to Jeff Bailey—”
“Jeff Bailey’s death was an accident — nothing more. It’s been investigated, and there’s no evidence of anything other than the fact that he tripped, and fell on a pick.”
“Which is almost exactly what happened to your brother,” Abigail replied.
“And that was more than forty years ago, Mother. We’ve been through all this before.”
Abigail reached out and clutched Phillip’s hand. “And what about me?”
Phillip eyed her impatiently. “You? Mother, you yourself said that what happened to you could as easily have happened at home or anywhere else.”
“I lied,” Abigail said softly.
Phillip leaned forward. “You
“I didn’t want to frighten Tracy, or talk about it in front of your wife, but something happened today.” She looked at Phillip again, and he thought he saw something in her eyes that he’d never seen there before.
Fear.
