Footprints in the Dust - 1. Zane is shut out but unexpectedly gets let in.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I am afraid I cannot let you in.”

“What do you mean, ‘cannot let me in’? Since when? You know me. You know...”

“I’m very sorry, Master Zane but I am under strict orders not to let you into the house.”

“Who’s orders? Not Mark’s.”

“No Sir. The orders are from Her Ladyship. I am instructed to have security escort you from the premises if you are... persistent.”

“Her Ladyship?” Zane’s heart plummeted. “Is she here?”

“Indeed she is, Master Zane.” The sour expression on the butler’s face gave away a lot about what he thought of his employer, Lady Grace Hamilton, or ‘the old battleaxe’ as she was referred to by the staff in private. He had a good deal of sympathy for the young man who stood before him, frozen with uncertainty.

“When did she come?”

“Early this morning, Sir.”

“But why? She’s never come here like this before. We always get warning.”

The butler looked grave and uncertain. How much should he tell? Oh well, he had been told to keep him out not to keep him ignorant.

“I understand, Master Zane, that His Lordship was taken ill in the night and Her Ladyship came straight from London to...” He had no opportunity to continue as Zane had grabbed his arm tightly, his blue eyes wide with concern.

“Mark’s ill? What happened? What’s wrong? Is it his heart?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Sir. All I know is that Lady Grace arrived at about six o’clock this morning and the doctor was summoned soon afterwards. He has been here for about half an hour.”

“I have to see him. Please Maxwell; please, I have to.”

“I’m truly sorry, Sir but I dare not.” There was real sympathy in his voice but helplessness too and he gently prised Zane’s hand off his arm and closed the door in his face, leaving the stunned boy alone on the doorstep in the snow.

After a time, Zane hurried down the front steps and onto the drive. Unsurprisingly they were clear despite the heavy snowfall that had covered the surrounding lands with a crystalline blanket of white.

In the locality there was an old legend that such sudden heavy snow showers were caused by the Cailleach, a goddess who lived on the white crowns of the encircling mountains. At certain times she would stand up and shake out her apron, causing the snow to fall into the valley below. It was a charming tale but not one Zane was thinking of as he crunched across the gravel in the swirling snow.

Zane shivered, even through the heavy cashmere coat he wore, and stamped his feet. Then he turned and walked determinedly to the black and silver sports car, its convertible roof firmly in place, which crouched low to the driveway near the wall of the house.

As he climbed into the driving seat, flipping on the heater, he pulled his mobile from his pocket. After a few rings it was answered by a female voice. Without preamble Zane said tensely:

“What’s going on?”

“Zane, I knew you’d call.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I can’t. She took my mobile and all the house phones are fixed so they can’t phone out.”

“God, what a witch. Never mind, just tell me what’s going on. I don’t care if the call is being monitored; just tell me.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. She just turned up. I didn’t know she was here until she stormed into my room this morning and demanded my phone.”

“Maxwell said that Mark’s ill.”

“I don’t know anything about that. He was fine last night. I heard him shouting at someone in his room, not long after you left. He sounded fine then.”

“Shouting? Shouting what, at whom? What do you mean shouting?”

“I mean shouting Zane. I don’t know who he was shouting at. I was walking past his room and I heard him shouting. I didn’t hear anyone else so I presume; given what has happened since, that he was on the phone shouting at Grandmother.”

Zane’s heart fell and filled with ice. “Oh my God, he didn’t? Did he? I was... Ah shit.”

“You’re not making sense Zane.” The voice on the end of the line said patiently.

“It fits. It all fits.”

“What fits?”

“He told her.”

“Told her what? – Oh! Shit! Do you think he did?”

“We had an argument last night. I told him I didn’t want to pussyfoot around anymore, that I was sick and tired of hiding what I feel about him. He kept saying that he wasn't read to tell her and that I didn’t know what she was capable of. Shit, I was just letting off steam. I’ve done it often enough. Why did he go and tell her now?”

“Maybe because he felt the same. Anyway... if he did tell her then, by the way he was shouting, she didn’t take it very well.”

“You don’t think that she really has made him sick do you?”

“Don’t be silly. She’s a witch but she wouldn’t take it that far. She wouldn’t hurt him. She’ll just pretend he’s ill so she has an excuse to lock him in his room for a couple of days while she tries to wear him down. You know what she’s like. You know what he’s like.”

“Yeah, I do know what he’s like. That’s what worries me. He won’t be sensible. He won’t pretend. He’ll stand his ground no matter what she does; what she says to him.”

“I know but...”

“Elizabeth, what if she pushes him too hard? What if he...?”

“Zane, you worry too much. Mark isn’t ill and he isn’t fragile. He hasn’t had an attack for years.”

“I know but...”

“Stop worrying. My brother is perfectly capable of dealing with our grandmother.”

“Why did she call the doctor?”

“I don’t know. Probably because Mark likes and trusts him and she thinks he will listen to him.”

Slightly mollified and knowing he would get nothing further from her, Zane ended the call. Half heartedly he rang Mark’s mobile a few times not expecting to get an answer. He was not disappointed.

Sitting in the car, encased by his little cocoon of warmth in the silent white world, Zane pondered. He could ride away and let things take their course but something deep inside was screaming.

Mark had been born with heart problems and until his early teens he had suffered from debilitating attacks which caused severe arrhythmia and, although it had never happened, carried a risk of cardiac arrest. Although he hadn’t had an attack for many years and everyone, including Mark, had become blasé; after periods of prolonged stress or exertion his lips and fingertips took on a distinctly blue tinge and he got breathless and dizzy.

Everyone thought that Zane was over-protective but the thought of losing the man who had become the centre of his universe was unbearable. And now, to hear that he had been taken ill after a shouting match with his formidable grandmother and for her to have rushed down from London with what was, for her, an indecent haste... it made him more than concerned.

He couldn’t just drive away. He couldn’t. Something prompted him to get out of the car and walk around the side of the house, struggling in the deep snow. He came to the patio beneath Mark’s window and looked up, blinking as snow landed on his lashes.

His heart almost stopped when he saw the figure in the window. Was it Mark? He couldn’t quite see through the swirling motes of frozen mist. The figure, seeing him, began to hammer on the glass and gesture wildly. Zane waved his understanding and struggled on around the corner of the building until he came to a door which, compared to the rest of the splendid architecture, was small and plain; almost hidden in a sharp corner.

In years gone by it had been a servant’s entrance, leading to the kitchens and the upper storeys, so that chamber maids and serving girls could attend to the rooms on the family floor without being seen in the main part of the house; being inconspicuous.

This was their secret entrance. They had used it since they were kids. Due to various exploits, he and Mark had been separated on numerous occasions with one or other of them being grounded. However, the house was so big that it was easy for Mark to smuggle him in through this door and up to his room with no one being any the wiser. They had been careful and no one had ever discovered their secret.

The door was locked on the inside and led to a dusty, long unused corridor and narrow wooden steps leading upwards. None of the family, least of all Lady Hamilton would have been seen dead here. It was a safe way of him sneaking in and out when she was around. She had never approved of him, even when he was just a friend.

An insufferable snob, she considered him to be ‘new money’ and therefore beneath contempt for those with ‘breeding’. Being American didn’t help; simply adding insult to injury. The fact that his father’s bank account could buy her off lock stock and barrel, using little more than small change made her hate him all the more. Despite his wealth and the gentle culture imparted by his Austrian mother she considered him to be ‘not good enough’ for her grandchildren.

The door swung open at his touch and he slipped inside, accompanied by a flurry of snow. Closing the door softly he peered into the dimness. The corridor looked as if it had not been used in years, which it hadn’t. With Mark and Elizabeth away at university for much of the year and both now over 18, Lady Hamilton saw little reason to leave her beloved London to spend time in a house she despised with her grandchildren whom she despised even more.

She had never taken to her role as guardian to the children after the death of their parents, and handed the role of care giver over to nannies and the household staff; although when they were children she had made an effort to spend some time with them for the sake of appearances.

Appearance and reputation were the all important gods in her life. Even though her own wealth had dwindled over the years she had taken pains to ensure that her status in London society had not waned and she was currently being courted by an Earl who could easily restore her to her former glory.

Thank heaven that much of Mark and Elizabeth’s fortune, including the house and a very healthy investment portfolio, had been left to them in trust by their parents and grandfather; Lady Hamilton’s long suffering husband. This was part of the reason she hated them – because they had what she felt should have been hers.

Fortunately the fund was administered by the family lawyer who had been a good friend of their parents and knew all about Lady Hamilton, her goals, and feelings towards her grandchildren.

“Mark?” Zane called softly.

The only answer was a faint footfall on the stairs.

“Hurry,” a faint, muffled voice called from above. Hurrying across the floor, causing the undisturbed dust to rise in little eddies around his feet; he entered the stairwell and began to climb. There was no sign of anyone above him but that was unsurprising in the darkness.

When he finally stepped out onto the bright landing he winced and narrowed his eyes. There was no one there. Clearly Mark had fled to his room. Zane felt like a thief as he crept across the landing. He jumped at every creak and groan of the old house and then he heard it... the shouting. Oh hell she must have caught him.

Running now, Zane skidded to a halt outside the solid oak door. Well at least if he was shouting he couldn’t be that sick... could he? Zane hesitated. What should he do? He couldn’t just stand there.

Then there was a loud bang from inside the room which decided matters. It was one thing standing there and listening to shouting but if it was getting physical that was a different matter. Flinging open the door he was met with a sight he was most certainly not expecting.

Lady Hamilton and Doctor Grey, who was also a family friend, were standing in the middle of the room alongside a small tale which had been overturned with such force that it was in splinters, its contents scattered all over the room. As he opened the door Doctor Grey stooped to scoop a few things into his bag.

“Woman, you are truly insane. I was always reluctant about this but I’ll have nothing more to do with it, and if anything happens to the boy...”

“You stupid man. Don’t you realise that something like this could ruin me? The scandal will bring down the family and I’ll have no chance of bettering myself and restoring our name to its previous heights.”

“What do you expect me to do about it? You can’t...”

Zane had stopped listening as soon as he’d set eyes on Mark, who was sprawled across the bed, seemingly fast asleep. How could anyone sleep through all that shouting and the crash of the table?

“What the fuck have you done to him?”

Turning and seeing him for the first time Lady Hamilton screeched and flew across the room until she was inches away. Zane took a step back expecting a physical attack.

“You! How dare you come here. How did you get in? I left strict instructions... orders, to throw you out if you came sniffing around my grandson. This is your fault. You’ve done this to him. He was a fine, upstanding young man before you came into his life with your sick perversions.”

“Before I came into his life? You mean when he was seven years old? I have always been in his life and the only sick perverted person I see here is you.”

“Get out,” she screamed. “Get out or I’ll have you thrown out.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I know Mark’s alright.”

“Of course he’s alright. Now GET OUT.” She was still very much in Zane’s face but he was surprisingly calm.

“If he’s alright why have you called the doctor and why, given all the shouting, is he still asleep?”

“It’s none of your business.” She made a sublime effort to reign in her temper and control herself. “Now, I give you one more chance; get out or I will summon security and have them telephone the police.”

“What the hell’s going on?” a new voice asked from the doorway and Zane breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Elizabeth; call Maxwell; summon security and have this... this intruder, removed from the house.”

“Zane is not an intruder grandmother,” Elizabeth said smoothly. “He’s Mark’s boyfriend and he has every right to be here unless Mark says otherwise. Don’t forget that this is not your house; it’s ours. Where is Mark?” she asked as an afterthought.

When she peered past the little group she showed none of the restraint that Zane had and physically flung her grandmother out of the way. Having been so forcefully reminded that this was not her house and, being well aware that now Mark was 21 he had complete control, Lady Hamilton had subsided somewhat. She stumbled but quickly recovered and berated Elizabeth for her behaviour. Elizabeth ignored her.

She, like Zane was focussed wholly on Mark who, despite their best efforts, showed no signs of waking up any time soon.

“What have you done?” Elizabeth hissed; her eyes deep pools of darkness. “What have you done to him? I swear to God if you’ve hurt him...”

Zane, in a voice that was even colder, said quietly. “I’ll make you pay for this.”

“Are you threatening me?” Lady Hamilton asked, her anger suddenly turning cold. “You heard that, Gerald. The little... He threatened me.”

“Be quiet Grace,” Doctor Grey said quietly. “You’re in enough trouble already; don’t make it worse.”

“Trouble? Nonsense. I did what I had to do. The boy was going to bring down the family and drag our name through the gutter. What was I expected to do? If you had done as I asked this situation would never have arisen.”

“If I had done what you asked I would have been professionally ruined and facing criminal charges. Face it Grace; this time you have gone too far and have to face the consequences.”

“But what else could I do? The boy refused to see sense. He was going to flaunt his perversion; throw away everything I have worked for. I HAD to stop him.”

“Being gay is not a perversion, Grace and it’s unlikely that anyone except the narrow minded anachronisms like you are going to give a damn one way or another.”

Doctor Grey turned to Zane and Elizabeth. “Don’t worry, Mark is fine; he was never ill. Lady Hamilton summoned me and instructed me to have Mark committed to a facility for behaviour modification. She was very open about her intentions and quite vocal. Mark became angry and upset, quite understandably.

“When I attempted to dissuade Grace from her intentions things got completely out of hand. Mark was becoming hysterical and breathless. I was concerned about his condition and gave him something to calm him down. He’ll sleep for a while but he’ll be fine.”

“You drugged him?” Elizabeth gasped in horror.

“Elizabeth, it was reaching a point where I was concerned for him and I took a medical decision in his best interests, not because of any sinister design or in compliance with any plans or intentions of Lady Hamilton.”

“But he’s okay?”

“Trust me,” Doctor Great said with a little apologetic smile. “I examined him thoroughly and there will be no ill effects provided he remain calm and rests for a few days.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Zane growled.

Elizabeth was off the bed and face to face with her grandmother. “Get out.”

“How dare you speak to me like that!” Lady Hamilton spat. “After everything I have done for you.”

“Done? What have you done for us? At every step you have tried to lie and cheat your way to our money and if it wasn’t for Uncle Brian you would have succeeded. You come here and make our lives a misery and now this. HOW DARE YOU. Get out. Get out right now or I am going to be the one who calls the police. What you have done is illegal.”

“Don't you see you stupid girl? Everything I have done – everything, has been for you. Restoring the family name and fortunes is not for me; it is for the future; for you and Mark.”

“For your pride you mean,” Elizabeth said scornfully. “We couldn’t care less.”

“Stupid, stupid girl. Would you wipe out hundreds of years of breeding; of struggling through hard times; all the work done by your ancestors – your grandfather and your parents... for... for a childish whim?”

“Don't you bring my parents into this! They were the ones who taught us that people are more important than titles and status.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at her grandmother. “And Mark being gay is NOT a ‘childish whim’; it’s what he is and who the hell are you to say that’s wrong?”

“Who am I? Who am I? I am your guardian, that’s who I am and what happens to you is my decision; not yours. If I decide that Mark requires treatment for his...”

“NO!” Elizabeth all but screamed making Lady Hamilton physically draw back. “You are our guardian until we reach 21 and I think you’ll find, and incidentally would know if you cared anything about us at all, that Mark was 21 last month. He is now in total control of the investment; the trust fund; and the house... not you. And, although you are still technically my guardian for another 18 months, if I ever see your face in my house again I will have you arrested. Now GET OUT.”

“But...”

“Get out, or I’ll have you thrown out.”

Lady Hamilton drew herself up. “Child, you are clearly distraught. I will talk to you when you are calmer. I shall retire to my suite and...”

“No you will not. You will leave my house and go back to London today.”

“As you so rightly acknowledge, I am your guardian and until you’ve calmed down and we have had a chance to talk reasonably about this, I am not going anywhere.”

She flounced out and Elizabeth sighed, knowing they would have to go through this all again. Ah well, Mark would be with her then. The two of them usually managed to talk her out and he had more authority now.

Doctor Grey was about to leave. “He will be alright won’t he?” Elizabeth asked anxiously.

“I promise you Elizabeth. In an hour or so he will be absolutely fine.”

“You’d better hope so,” Zane ground out, “or you can kiss your reputation and your career goodbye.”

Doctor Grey looked at Zane with sympathetic eyes. “I can assure you Zane that I have done nothing improper. As soon as I realised Lady Hamilton’s intentions I withdrew my support and would have gone to the authorities myself if she had tried to go through with it. However, I had no choice in what I did; I was gravely concerned for Mark.”

“Are you sure he’s going to be alright?”

“As sure as I can be, Zane. If I was still concerned I would have admitted him. I know his history but now he’s calm, he ‘s stable and his heart is fine. Trust me, Zane he’s getting stronger all the time and this was nothing more than a hiccup due to an extraordinary situation. Normal stress is fine but this was enough to make anyone sick. Don’t worry. I promise he’s fine.”

Somewhat mollified Zane dismissed the doctor from his attention and sat on the bed, taking Mark’s hand in his and intensely scanning his face for signs that he was waking. He didn’t have to wait for long.

Within half an hour of the doctor leaving Mark started to stir. By this time Zane had climbed onto the bed and was holding him in his arms. Mark sighed and sensing his presence, snuggled close. Their faces were inches apart when he blinked open his eyes and smiled sleepily.

“Hey babe,” he whispered rubbing his eyes and yawning broadly. Suddenly the expression in his eyes changed. “Grandma,” he hissed, sitting upright. “She...”

“We know,” Zane said grimly, “but it’s fine now. It’s all sorted.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Is it? But...”

“Yes,” Zane said firmly, “it is. You should have seen Elizabeth, she was awesome. She put your grandmother in her place right enough.”

“She did?” Mark and Zane positioned themselves comfortably on the bed while Zane and Elizabeth quickly ran through what had happened while he was asleep.

“It’s lucky you banged on the window or I might have gone away and god knows what would have happened.”

Mark looked confused. “Window? I didn’t knock on the window.”

“Yeah you did; it had to have been you. You sent me to the secret door and you opened it to let me in.”

“It wasn’t me Zane; I swear. I was shouting at grandmother. She was trying to get the doctor to commit me and he was trying to reason with her. It was spiralling out of control; you know what Grandmother is like. I...” He furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I started to feel... strange and then Dr Grey sat me down and... and that was it. I don’t remember any more. I definitely didn’t go anywhere near the window.”

Zane frowned. “I was sure it was your window. Who else would it have been?” He looked at Elizabeth who shrugged.

“Don’t look at me. It wasn't me. I wouldn’t have a clue how to open that door.”

Suddenly Zane went still, the colour draining from his face. “The footprints,” he said. “The footprints in the dust.”

“What footprints? What do you mean?”

He looked up at Mark, his eyes stunned. “There weren’t any.”

“I don’t understand Zane. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When... when I came through the door I noticed that my feet were kicking up the dust. I didn’t think about it at the time because I was too desperate to get to you but... there were no footprints coming the other way. And there were no footprints on the stairs... and when I was coming up there were cobwebs all the way across. I mean, if anyone had come down or gone up before me they would have broken the cobwebs, right?”

Mark and Elizabeth exchanged glances and then laughed and shrugged. “It must have been one of the ghosts,” Mark said smiling.

Zane was not convinced but he could not persuade the others that anything strange had happened so he let it drop. They were all thinking about it the next day however.

Lady Hamilton had gone back to her room in a fury after the argument. She made a number of calls to her friends in London and arranged to return home that evening, on the basis that she really couldn’t face another showdown with her grandchildren; better to engage in some damage limitation in the comfort of her own home.

Both Mark and Elizabeth left the house immediately after lunch, which Lady Hamilton had made an absolute nightmare with her voluminous silence. Mark stayed with Zane and Elizabeth with her friend; hoping that by the time they returned the next day she would have gone. They got their wish but not in the way they had expected.

Both of them got a call early in the morning asking them to return home, which they did to find the whole place in absolute uproar. After making the calls to London, Lady Hamilton had simply vanished. After a thorough search of the house she was found with her neck broken at the foot of the servants’ stairs; a place where she had never before set foot.

The thing that puzzled the police was that there were no footprints in the dust, either on the stairs or in the passage below. It seemed as if she had simply launched herself off the top and hit the floor without touching any of the stairs between.