Where Peacocks Scream Page 4

  That night Daniel lay awake, listening to the strange new sounds coming from the room opposite. Frank Jasper moved around it, clicking clothes’ hangers into place, shutting suitcases, rustling papers, smoking another cigar, jabbering and laughing into his mobile phone. His door flicked open as he pattered downstairs to the bathroom, joked with Mum on the stairs, said “Goodnight, Emma… Goodnight, Ralph.”

  Then he climbed the stairs and closed his door.

  Daniel shifted restlessly, his sheets rumpled and uncomfortable. This was how it would be for at least the next few weeks, maybe longer, so he’d better get used to it. He could try wearing earplugs. Joshua said he always wore them on night flights when he had to sleep on a plane.

  The next thing he knew, Chloe was bending over him, tugging at his arm.

  “Daniel! For God’s sake!… Wake up!”

  Daniel struggled to sit up. He felt stiff and cold and most peculiar. He was wearing his pyjamas yet he seemed to be out-of-doors in the pitch dark. His feet were damp and bare.

  He muttered, “Where am I?”

  Chloe knelt beside him. “You’re lying on Cora’s grave! You idiot! You’ve been sleepwalking… Thank God I spotted you from my window. You gave me such a fright. I couldn’t sleep. I saw you walking across the bridge. You looked like a ghost in your pyjamas.” She touched his shoulder. “Are you OK?”

  Daniel shivered. “I am now.”

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “Once, in London. It was a very hot night.” The bullies had sent him threatening texts he didn’t have the courage to report – but he didn’t want to tell Chloe about all that. “Mum found me at the bottom of our garden.”

  “But why are you sleepwalking now? You look as if you’d thrown yourself over Cora’s grave to protect it.”

  Daniel stood up, feeling the earth crumbling beneath his feet. “Because that bloody man has arrived… It’s like he puts a threat over everything. Everywhere I go, he’s there, muttering, shifting around.”

  “What man? Who are you talking about?”

  “I’ll explain tomorrow.” Daniel heard a rustle of sounds disappearing into the undergrowth, and froze. He clutched Chloe’s arm. “I bet that’s him following me. God, Chloe, now he knows about Cora. What am I going to do?”

  “Go back to bed and get some sleep.” She wrapped her cardigan around her pyjamas. “And please, Dan… Don’t do this again. If I hadn’t spotted you, you’d have been out here all night. You could have frozen to death!”

  “Frank Jasper trampled everywhere,” Daniel complained to Phil the following afternoon.

  He was determined not to tell Phil anything about the sleepwalking in case Phil told Mum and there’d be trouble. He knew he could trust Chloe not to say anything. She’d disappeared to Boars Hill again. She’d only been with him for the night, Phil said bitterly, dumped like a parcel while Octavia and Stephen went to some posh premiere at the Royal Opera House in London.

  They stood in a corner of the boathouse where the small sink made it possible to fill and boil a kettle.

  “Tramp, tramp, tramp,” Daniel said. He couldn’t talk to Phil about Chloe in case he burst into tears. “Over Cora’s grave, pushing the branches aside, examining the leaves on the trees, asking questions about everything like he was trying to find buried treasure.”

  “Are you sure he’s the guy in the white cap?”

  “Quite sure. After he’d trampled around for half an hour, he said how hard it was to see any of the island from Port Meadow. Which is true. You can’t. It’s one of the things I love about it. It’s a totally secret place.”

  “So?”

  “So he couldn’t have said a thing like that unless he’d stood on Port Meadow, looking at the island.” Daniel stared out of the boathouse at the river. “And there’s more.”

  “What?” Phil dropped two teabags into an old chipped pot.

  “He said something vile about the peacocks. That they had the feathers of an angel, the voice of the devil and the feet of a thief.”

  “Isn’t it an old proverb?”

  “But the thing is,” Daniel flushed. “It’s like he’s describing himself. His posh, city-banker clothes. His horrible, treacly voice—”

  “And the feet of a thief?” Phil handed him a battered mug of sweet dark tea.

  “Not so far.” Daniel gulped at the scalding liquid. “But I wouldn’t put it past him. He wants something from us, I just know it. He makes my skin crawl. I wouldn’t trust him further than I can spit.”

  Phil looked at him anxiously. “Can I give you some advice, Dan?”

  “Sure.”

  “Cool it.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Try not to take it so personally. You don’t know he’s the guy who’s been watching you—”

  “I’m positive.”

  “But you can’t prove it. And even if he is, he’s obviously important to the brewery and to your parents—”

  “But he’s invaded my space—”

  “Only for the time being. Hang on in there. In a few weeks he’ll be gone and everything will get back to normal.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Living at The Riverside feels different. It’s like it’s not my own home any more. Frank Jasper has crawled like a snake, into the middle of my family. And he’s brought his poison with him.”

  The Invasion

  The small things made the difference. The details of invasion.

  The stranger’s possessions began to litter the living room: a pile of highly-coloured magazines on country life slipped onto a shelf; fur-lined slippers lying in the hearth; a box of Havana cigars squatting on the table.

  In the bathroom Jasper left a huge toilet bag full of scented shampoos and body lotions. Oily bars of cream-coloured soap thickened on the side of the bath.

  Mum staggered upstairs every morning with a cooked breakfast on a tray adorned with a fresh linen napkin and a vase of pink carnations. She’d tap gently on Jasper’s door as if she were frightened of disturbing him. Then they’d talk together in low voices. Sometimes Mum would giggle. It was not a sound Daniel could remember her making before.

  The smell of eggs and bacon lingered on the landing, making him feel nauseous as he hurtled downstairs to school, flinging himself on his bike, glad to get away – yet not wanting to leave his room, feeling protective of the small remaining space he could still call his own.

  “Watch what you say to Frank,” Mum whispered to him pretty much every day. “I want us to make a good impression, as a family.” She inspected him, her head tilted. “You need a haircut. And smile more.”

  “I like having long hair. And I don’t feel like smiling… When’s he going to leave?”

  “All in his own good time,” Mum said. “It’s nice to have a guest about the house.”

  Daniel hesitated, not knowing whether to challenge her. Then he blurted out, “Have you ever met Frank Jasper before?”

  Mum turned away, as if she were playing for time. She said casually, “Before what?”

  “Before he came to stay, of course!”

  “That’s a strange thing to say.” But she’d blushed bright pink. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve just got a feeling you know each other… There’s something about the way he looks at you.”

  Mum turned to face him. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure nobody else was listening. Then she grasped Daniel’s arm. “As a matter of fact, you’re right. We met at a party in London and we did see each other once or twice after that.”

  Daniel said dully, “I knew it—”

  “It was before I met your father, long before. I knew Frank by a different name. I’d no idea he was coming here. When I first met him, he was a sailor, he’d just left the Navy. Soon afterwards he disapp
eared to America. Said he was going to make his fortune on the stock market. I haven’t seen him from that day to this.”

  “There!” Daniel said triumphantly. “So I was right.”

  “Yes, well, you’re very perceptive,” Mum said, her face pale, sulking. “But I don’t want you telling Dad… And I certainly don’t want you to mention this again. It’s just between me and Frank. It makes no difference to anything. Do you understand?”

  “Keep your hair on.” Daniel turned away, sure that his mother hadn’t told him the whole truth. “I’ve got much better things to talk about than your old friend!”

  But the questions nagged away at him.

  Why had Jasper changed his name? Surely if you were born Timothy Bloggs, or whatever, you remained Timothy Bloggs for the rest of your life. Jasper was now, obviously, a wealthy man. He certainly wasn’t a working sailor. How had he made his money?

  And there was still the infuriating question: what was he doing at The Riverside? Was it a mere coincidence that he’d met up with Mum again – or had Jasper deliberately tracked her down? Why hadn’t she told Dad she’d met Jasper before? What had she got to hide?

  Mind you, Daniel reflected ruefully, Mum and Dad hardly ever talked these days, about anything other than work… And even then it was quiet, mechanical, checking stuff, as if they’d turned into the brewery’s machines. It was never real talk about things that meant anything.

  And they certainly never laughed together any more.

  “Have you seen what Jasper’s done to his room?” Joshua asked.

  “To my room, you mean.” Daniel tore a small branch off the beech tree. They sat together on the island near Cora’s grave. “Yesterday afternoon, Mum told me he’d gone out. I did put my head round the door.”

  “So he doesn’t lock it?”

  “Actually, he does.” Daniel blushed. “But I’ve got a key.”

  Joshua looked impressed. “So what did you find?”

  “He’s unpacked everything, as if he’s been there for years and plans to stay for ever.” Daniel inspected the glowing copper leaves. “It’s all very neat and tidy. But underneath the bed—”

  “Holy cow! You did take a good look—”

  “He’s shoved his suitcases under there. I was tempted to yank them out and open them up.”

  “But why?” Joshua poked at a clump of wild mushrooms. “If he’s just a boring old guest who’ll soon be gone, why are you so obsessed with him? What are you hoping to find?”

  “A white cap. I didn’t tell you… All summer, there was this guy on Port Meadow watching me. Wearing sunglasses and a stupid white cap. It was like being haunted by a ghost. I never saw him come and I never spotted him leave. It was weird.”

  “And you think this Jasper guy is the same man?”

  “The more I see of him, the more I’m sure of it.”

  “So what was he watching you for?”

  Daniel stood up. “If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be so obsessed.”

  On Saturday morning Daniel fed the peacocks as usual.

  He’d gone to the kitchens to collect a pan of leftovers: cold chips, dry lumps of wholemeal bread, clumps of peas, broccoli spears, chicken wings. The pan never contained the same mixture twice. Daniel picked it up and staggered across the dining room, out to the river terrace.

  The peacocks waited impatiently for him, along with gaggles of ducks and moorhens and a smattering of ravenous seagulls who perched on the bridge and came wheeling towards him, their eyes beady and watchful.

  Daniel shook the contents of the pan along the pathway, knowing that in minutes every shred would have vanished. The birds fought over the spoils, squawking.

  “Noisy, aren’t they?”

  Frank Jasper’s voice behind him made him jump.

  Daniel said, “Yes, of course they are.”

  “I’ve got a surprise for you and your marvellous parents.”

  Daniel turned to face him, the pan empty, the path cleared. “What’s that, then?”

  “I’ve bought each of you a present. To thank you for your hospitality.”

  Daniel said eagerly, “Are you leaving us?”

  Jasper snorted. “Not so fast, Danny-boy! You don’t get rid of me that easily.”

  Daniel’s heart sank. He watched as Frederick picked up a stale croissant and bashed it on the path. The pieces flew everywhere.

  Embarrassed and red-faced, Daniel said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “Before lunch.” Jasper touched Daniel’s shoulder, making him shiver. “I thought we could have a small present-giving ceremony… I have to leave now for a meeting in town. I’ll see you back here at midday. If you could tell your parents, I’d be extremely grateful.”

  Daniel listened to the silver Mercedes revving up and gliding away. For the umpteenth time, he wished Jasper would permanently disappear in a puff of glamorous car.

  The Evil Eye

  The three of them waited for Jasper in the living room, in an uncomfortable silence, not meeting each other’s eyes, as if he were hiding just behind the door, as if they were dreading his return.

  He was late. Mum had had her hair done. She wore a new cotton blouse and a flared skirt, as if she’d dressed for a special occasion. She checked next week’s new menu for spelling mistakes. Dad jabbed at his calculator, adding up invoices, complaining about the complications of VAT. Daniel read a story about an old lady called Lily who’d survived the Blitz in London during the Second World War. She lived alone, with Henry, her beloved canary. “If God wants to take us in our beds,” Lily said, “He will. If He wants us to live, He’ll keep us safe.”

  One morning, Lily’s granddaughter arrived to stay with her. When the siren went off that night, she insisted Lily took shelter in the nearby underground. As they crossed the road, Lily clutched her arm. “I’ve left Henry on the windowsill. I must go back for him.”

  In spite of her granddaughter’s protestations, Lily returned to her house. Carrying Henry in his cage to the safety of the underground, they were both killed by a bomb.

  Daniel looked up from his book, tears burning his eyes. He knew he’d have done the same for Cora…

  When the clock struck one, Mum said, “We can’t neglect Saturday lunch like this. We’re short-staffed as it is… I’ll have to—”

  The door opened. Jasper pushed through it, holding three parcels, each carefully wrapped in matching silver paper.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late.” He looked flushed and triumphant. “You would not believe how much traffic there was on the Woodstock Road.”

  “We should be downstairs.” Dad fidgeted, uncomfortable in his smart suit and tie. “This is kind of you, but perhaps we could do it tonight?”

  “It won’t take a minute.” Jasper settled himself on the sofa and handed out the gifts. “I wanted to thank you for treating me like one of the family. I can’t remember when I’ve felt more at home.”

  He gave Dad a box of cigars and a large bottle of cognac; Mum some perfume – “Oh, Frank… It’s my favourite! How did you know?” – and a make-up set. The silver paper scattered over the floor.

  “And here’s yours.” Jasper pushed the third parcel into Daniel’s hands. “It’s the pièce de résistance. Something really special I just know you’ll love.”

  Daniel tore at the wrapping. A small mahogany box lay in his lap.

  “Open it, then,” Mum said in a silly high voice. “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”

  Daniel prised open the lid.

  Inside, nestling in a mound of white tissue paper, lay an old peacock-feather fan. The feathers, long and delicate, clustered with shining emerald eyes, swept gracefully together at their base into a delicately engraved, pale ivory handle.

  Daniel felt the familiar cold wind blowing again
st his forehead. The fan seemed to mesmerise him. He picked it up.

  Dad rose abruptly to his feet. The box of cigars and the bottle of cognac slithered to the floor. Mum screamed like a peacock.

  Jasper said, “What on earth’s the matter?”

  “It’s bad luck.” Daniel’s voice wavered. The emerald eyes of the tail caught the light and glittered back at him. “You’re not supposed to bring peacock feathers indoors. Never over the threshold. It’s the rule. Everybody knows. It’s the absolute rock-solid rule.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Jasper’s voice had a treacherous rasp. “You can’t really believe that old wives’ tale!” He reached across to Daniel, stroking the feathers between his fingers and thumb. “I found it in an antiques shop in Oxford. I couldn’t believe my luck. I thought you’d love it, seeing how attached you are to those birds.”

  “It’s the evil eye.” Mum pointed to the fan, one hand over her mouth. “Once you’ve brought it indoors, bad luck will follow wherever you go. There’ll be no getting away from it.”

  For several moments everyone stared at the fan. Daniel clutched it as if his life depended on the thing. The engravings in the ivory handle bit into his skin and the pain shot up his arm.

  Jasper said, “Well, really.” He got to his feet and lunged heavily at Daniel, holding his wrist with one hand, prising his fingers off the fan with the other. “If that’s the way you feel about it, I’d better take it away. I’ll give it to someone who’ll appreciate its beauty.”

  Leaving the mahogany box on Daniel’s lap, he fanned the air with the feathers. Tiny particles of dust danced in the sunlight. The emerald eyes glittered.

  “I consider it to be enchantingly beautiful. How anyone can think otherwise is completely beyond me.”

  “It’s not a question of beauty,” Mum said. “Please, Frank, take it away. Get rid of the thing. Don’t leave it lying about in your room. Get it out of The Riverside.”

  “Of course, Emma, at once.” Jasper’s grey eyes darkened with disappointment. “If that’s what you want—”