A finer end - Deborah Crombie [70]
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll ring you, then.” Jack turned away, but stopped and looked back when he reached the gate. Simon still sat on the bench, his eyes closed.
“Simon,” Jack called out. “Thanks for going to see Winnie yesterday. It was kind of you.”
Simon opened his eyes and smiled. “She’ll be all right, you know. She’s a fighter, that young woman.”
She had tucked Faith back into bed and sat with her until the tears stopped. Examining the bedroom, Gemma saw that someone had made an effort to counteract the darkness of the northern exposure and the heavy furniture. The walls were papered in a springlike yellow-and-green sprigged pattern, and the coverlet on the fruitwood bed picked up the same pale yellow. But the landscape over the chest of drawers was dominated by the brooding presence of the Tor, and through the window, she could see its rock-strewn slope beyond the neglected back garden.
Faith blew her nose, then eyed Gemma over the wad of tissues. “What are you doing here? Did you come to arrest Garnet?”
“We came because Jack was worried about Winnie, and Duncan wanted to help. That’s all.”
“They’re cousins?”
“Their mums were sisters.” Gemma surveyed Faith critically. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”
“I don’t remember.” Faith’s hands, still clasping the tissues, were trembling. “Yesterday morning at the café, I think. Before I heard about Winnie—” Her eyes filled again.
“Lunch, then,” Gemma said briskly. “You stay right where you are and I’ll bring it to you.”
Downstairs in the kitchen, she eyed the contents of fridge and cupboard with dismay. Eggs, a bit of cheese, a half loaf of slightly stale bread. A typical man’s kitchen, but she could put together cheese omelets and toast. That and a pot of tea would do.
Once the omelets were done to perfection and the tea and toast ready, Gemma assembled a tray and carried the simple feast upstairs. Perhaps, she thought, some of Hazel’s domestic skills were rubbing off on her.
She found Faith sitting up a bit straighter in the bed, dry-eyed, watching her with alert curiosity. The girl tucked into the food with concentration, and Gemma wondered if a portion of her emotional fragility had been due to simple hunger.
When they had both finished, Gemma asked, “Better?”
Faith smiled. “Yes. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“Good. Now we need to talk. I want you to tell me about your friend Garnet.”
Faith pinched her lips together. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Start from the beginning. How did you meet her?”
“She came in the café—Oh, my God. I’ve got to go to work. I never even thought. And Buddy won’t know about Garnet—”
Gemma eased her back down. “I’ll ring him—Buddy, is it? Is that your boss?”
“Yes. They were friends. That’s how Garnet knew about me.”
“So Garnet had heard about you before she ever met you?”
“I was sleeping in the boxroom above the café. I thought Buddy didn’t know. Garnet offered me a place to live for just a bit of rent. And she knew about babies. I was so scared then—there hadn’t been anyone to ask. She … I’d never met anyone like her. She seemed so free. Not like my parents at all. And she knew about magic. Women’s magic …”
“That must have been fascinating—and just frightening enough to be irresistible.”
“That’s exactly how it was.” Faith sounded surprised, and Gemma gave herself a point for hitting the right note. “But I didn’t know, then …”
“Know what, Faith?” Gemma prompted.
“Old stuff. Dark stuff.” Faith shook her head. “After a while it wasn’t fun. Garnet said I had to learn, that ignorance wouldn’t protect me. And she worried about me.”
“How could you tell?”
“The last couple of months, she didn’t want me to go anywhere, or see anyone. Especially Nick.”
The classic signs of an abusive relationship, Gemma thought, and Faith would have