Free The Talisman by Lynda La Plante Page B

path was edged with rhododendrons in full bloom, some of them overblown, the pink petals littering the ground. The drive seemed to go on for ever, but then they were among gardens and long, sweeping lawns which needed trimming, but were thick and lush. The car rounded one more curve and Edward gasped, ‘It’s a castle, Charlie, it’s a castle, you never said you lived in a castle.’
    Charlie snorted and said again that it was just a pile of rubble, they could only use it in the summer as the place froze everyone to death in winter. ‘We only use one wing, the rest is falling down. We were lucky – my uncle, oddball fellow, died without any heirs, so he left it to Ma, there she is . . . Ma! Maaaa!’
    Edward looked in the direction Charlie was waving, and he could see a figure in a picture hat, cutting roses. She carried a large basket on one arm and wore a man’s gardening glove on the other hand. She waved frantically and put the basket down, running towards the car.
    The car skidded to a halt and Charlie jumped out, not bothering to open the door, and ran to her. She was shouting and waving as she ran, and Charlie caught her up in his arms and twirled her around, kissing her. Edward had still not seen her face beneath the hat, she was kissing Charlie and holding him at arm’s length, cooing that he looked just wonderful. Edward detected the same plummy accent, just like Charlie’s. He remained sitting self-consciously in the car as Charlie pulled his mother by the hand towards him. ‘Eddie, this is Ma; Ma, Eddie’s staying for the vacation, his family was bombed out so he had nowhere to go.’
    The lie came out without Charlie batting an eyelid, and Edward tried to get out of the car and shake hands at the same time.
    Lady Primrose Collins was furious with Charlie for not warning her or asking her permission to bring Edward, but Edward couldn’t detect anything but a rather cool welcome. She took off her hat and removed the gardening glove. ‘How do you do, please come into the house, Humphrey will see to your luggage.’ She linked hands with her son and walked up the big, crumbling steps into the castle. Edward hung back slightly, then followed them. He had been taken aback slightly at Lady Primrose’s age, thinking at first that she was very young. It was the way she moved, but close up he could see that she must be in her fifties. Charlie had inherited her pale blue eyes and snub nose. Even though she was gardening she was perfectly made up.
    Edward’s initial reaction was disconcerting; a shadow seemed to pass over his heart and he felt his entire body shake in a strong sensation of déjà vu. Yet he knew he had never met Lady Primrose before.
    Perhaps not, but his father had known Lady Primrose Collins. And his mother, Evelyne, knew this pretty woman very well. If Lady Primrose had looked closely at Edward she, too, would have felt the powerful hand begin to manipulate from the grave. Edward strongly resembled his father, although he was not as tall, or as wild. His dark hair was cut fashionably short, but the young man’s face was almost a mirror image of the gypsy fighter’s.
    Lady Primrose did not feel the past catching up with her, not yet. She simply welcomed into her home a young friend of her son’s, that was all.
    The huge, baronial hall with its stone walls and massive, open fireplace was, as Charlie had said, cold, even though the sun was shining outside. There were suits of armour, shields and animal skins everywhere, very masculine, and the stone floor echoed their footsteps. Humphrey, in his butler’s uniform, walked past them to collect their luggage, while Charlie chattered away to his mother, telling her about the journey down and how well he had been doing.
    ‘Eddie, is it? Would you like to go into the drawing room, I will have to see about getting a room ready for you . . . Charlie, come up and say hello to Daddy.’
    Edward stood, not sure which door led into the drawing room,