The next few hours passed in a blur.
After what seemed like a long time, voices came outside. Giles returned with three of the staff, and also with them was Sergeant Timms. They hadn't needed to call him out – Giles had found him already at the house. The case had given him a bad feeling, he said, and he'd decided early this morning to come back and investigate further.
Giles, Esther and Porter were all arrested at the scene, and Timms radioed for reinforcements. Before taking the three away, they retrieved the jewellery from the back of Porter's car, parked out of sight in the woods a hundred metres or so away from the air raid shelter.
Then, an ambulance arrived and took Dempsey and Harry to the local cottage hospital. It was only just after 9 am and Lord Winfield hadn't yet been told what had happened in the night. Harry had wanted to go to him but Timms pressed her to proceed straight to the hospital, saying he would talk to Lord Winfield, and stress that she was all right.
She held James's hand as they travelled in the ambulance together. She was 'walking wounded'; very sore, but nothing broken. She had been hit on the head and they wanted to check that out, but she didn't think it was serious: just a painful lump that would take a few days to heal.
He mumbled incoherently on the journey – to her, to himself - in a way that worried her. Every few minutes, he would try to get up from the cot in the back of the ambulance; each time, she entreated him to lie back down and tried to sooth him.
"Gotta get to work… gonna be late...chief's gonna suspect…."
"James, it's alright, it's Sunday. He's not expecting you."
He looked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment and then broke out into grin.
"Angel. How you doin?'
Then he suddenly went quiet again. His face was so pale. She'd never seen him like this before, so very vulnerable, and she hated it. At the same time, it strengthened her resolve. She had to be strong for both of them now.
The small country hospital was quiet at this early hour. The Doctor checked her over but was reassuring. She'd sustained a nasty beating and she was going to feel the bruises acutely over the next few days, but that was it. She had Giles to thank for cutting short Porter's frenzied attack.
Dempsey was severely concussed, though. The blow to his head had been much harder, the Doctor told her, and that accounted for his disorientation. It was essential to wake him regularly and to keep him as alert as possible - the drowsiness had already set in. At least the stitches improved the appearance of the awful, gaping wound.
Finally, she got him into a cab and they set off back towards Winfield Hall.
"We're okay Harry, that's the main thing," he murmured once, a brief moment of clarity that startled her. For the rest of the journey, he fought encroaching sleep, his head alternately dipping and then jerking violently up again. He hadn't asked her about the outcome of the robbery; indeed, he hadn't mentioned it. She wondered if he remembered it at all. He wasn't himself, and she knew she would have a difficult phone call to make to Spikings later.
By the time she finally sat down to talk to Freddy, it late afternoon and dusk was falling again. The days were so very short, she thought. They were right in the bull's eye of winter, and suddenly she yearned for longer days, for sunshine and an end to this bitter freeze.
They sat in the library in armchairs, the fire in the grate between them a buffer against the gloom. Outside, long shadows were falling across the crystallised snow on the lawn. Dempsey was upstairs in bed and had been there all day. Harry woke him periodically and gave him sips of hot, sweet tea.
She had called Spikings earlier. She'd told him most of it, just as it was. It was awkward of course – personal, and a little embarrassing. She skimmed over some of the family details, leaving him to fill in the blanks for himself. For his part, Spikings was smart enough not to probe too much, especially not about the reasons for Dempsey's being there with her in the first place. However, his lack of discernable surprise on his point made Harry ponder. Did the chief know more than he was letting on? She supposed only time would tell.
Now she sat with her father in the gloom. She was thankful for the stiff drinks he had poured them both, despite the relatively early hour. Giles, Esther and Porter were still in custody, but the story had completely come out. She had given Timms a full statement, and it was strange, being on the other side of an investigation for once. Esther and Porter were looking at lengthy sentences – Porter even more so because of the violence he had used. Giles? She didn't know. She found she felt sorry for him, but there was anger at his weakness, too.
"Did you have any notion they would be involved, Daddy?" she said finally, and took a long sip of her gin and tonic.
"Of course I didn't," he looked out of the window into the darkness, thinking. It was some time before he spoke again.
"There was always rivalry between us, you know; right from when we were youngsters. Though it was healthy rivalry, or so I always thought. What else do you expect with brothers? It's not as if I had any real advantage over him, he was clever, good at sport – a popular boy. But I was always the older one, and I think in his mind, that gave me an inordinate advantage, somehow. I was the first son and heir."
He gave a short laugh. "It's silly, isn't it? In relative terms, he was so privileged. But he always measured himself against me; against the advantage I suppose I did have, by an accident of birth."
"And Mummy?" she almost didn't want to ask. This issue of love rivalry was so sensitive; she had never brought it up with him before and he had never volunteered anything. The bits and pieces she knew had come from her nanny when she was a teenager, usually in moments of indiscretion after a couple of glasses of wine.
Freddy sighed, and Harry caught a glimpse of the fragility of the previous night.
"It's such a long time ago, Harriet," He shifted in his chair, and she felt his pain and awkwardness acutely. Her heart went out to him. She knew he didn't really want to discuss this with her, and yet – she waited. A part of her needed to know.
"It's true that your mother was with Giles first, and that he introduced me to her– they used to come here often, for supper or just to stay the weekend. That's how we got to know one another. Giles was in his mid twenties at the time; done with Cambridge, but still working out what direction his life was going to take. He'd just taken on the Gables, of course. It was an exiting time for him – should have been, anyway,"
He sighed heavily before continuing.
"Lucy was a couple of years older than him, and a real live wire. I started looking forward to their visits more and more, never quite admitting to myself that it was her I really wanted to see."
He looked up at her then, and she saw the sparkle in his eye – that glint of life, of love for life, that was ageless. Just for a moment, she saw what her mother must have seen.
"We got on so well. We were always laughing and joking, sometimes at Giles's expense, just to tease him, you know. There was never any malice in it. And – I thought she was an absolutely wonderful woman. I congratulated him to myself on achieving such a coup.
"Lucy adored the grounds, and she would bring clothes for walking or shooting every time she came. She so loved the outdoors, when Giles never really took to them. You've inherited that from her, my love."
"So the two of us would go out together, shooting, riding or just walking… the way you and James did yesterday," he looked wistful for a moment. "She was such easy company. We talked about all sorts of things, and gradually…. I mean, I'm not even sure when it happened, but one day, we realised we were in love."
He glanced at her quickly.
"Honestly, Harriet. I know how it probably sounds. Giles has always blamed me so whole-heartedly. He thought it was calculated. I was older – maybe looking to settle down, subconsciously, at least. To him, it was black and white. I took her out walking, seduced her – I had the Hall, I had more life experience. It was easy for him to be bitter. But it really wasn't like that. It was so unexpected. I think you just know, when you've found that person. So unexpected, but so… simple, at the same time."
She thought of James.
"I understand, Daddy."
He looked at her, and nodded. "Then of course, Giles married Jennifer. There was a lot of ill feeling between us around that time. But Jennifer was so good for him. He managed to move on, and our relationship improved. If I'm honest with myself now, perhaps it never recovered enough. When your mother died – the worst time of my life – he tried to be there for me, but even then, I could sense his resentment. I wasn't strong enough to deal with that on top of my grief, so I suppose I distanced myself from him. "
"But then Aunt Jenny died too..." she said, softly.
"Yes, she did. It was very bad for him, that. He didn't deserve it, and look what happened then. Esther was never any good. I knew it in my bones, even if my head wouldn't acknowledge it."
"The most unforgivable thing is that she's found his Achilles heel, and exploited it. She's dug up these family issues, and used them to her to her advantage. Then, the betrayal from Porter - I'll never understand it, Harriet. I'll never know what I – we, the family – did to him to warrant that. For him to strike you and James that way… I can't tell you how furious I am."
She had never heard this tone in his voice before. His hands came fluttering up to his face, and she could see they were trembling. His blue eyes brimmed – with sadness, and but also with a deep anger.
Harry went to his side and crouched beside him, grasping both his hands firmly in hers.
"We're alright Daddy, it's over now. I don't blame you for feeling that way, and we'll probably never know exactly why they did it. You can re-build bridges with Giles, I know you can. And I'm here. That's all that matters, nothing else."
He looked down at her, pulled his hands gently away from hers and rested them on her head.
"You're right, my darling, I suppose that is all that matters. It hurts so much, though. But, sitting here with you, I can feel Lucy too. You're so like her, you know."
She smiled up at him. There were tears in both their eyes.