Kingdom of Shadows

  James stared at her. ‘She saw Isobel as well?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’m sure she did.’

  ‘Then it’s not just Clare! Have you told Clare this?’

  ‘Clare must know, darling. She and Margaret used to talk on their own for hours – I always wondered if your father ever saw her too, or whether it’s just the women in the family …’

  She had never talked to Archie about it. Archie hated anything to do with the Gordons. He would never understand, never want to understand, so she had never confided her worries to him. Now all this had happened she didn’t know what to do for the best. She smiled at James anxiously. ‘She’s never appeared to you, dear, has she?’

  James paled slightly. ‘Never!’ He shuddered.

  ‘No.’ His mother shook her head. ‘I didn’t think she had. I think it’s the women she talks to … pleads with …’ She shook her head again. ‘Poor Clare. I want to help her, but I don’t know how!’

  When Clare awoke next morning Neil had gone. He had lain beside her, comforting her, holding her close, soothing away the dream until they had both fallen asleep and for the first time in a long time she had slept well, secure in the knowledge that he would be there when she awoke. But he wasn’t. She found a note on the kitchen table. ‘Wander down to the office when you feel like it and we’ll have lunch. By the time you get here the die will be cast and I will have contacted the papers. N.’

  She smiled. Her die had been cast long since, had he but known it.

  She made herself some coffee, then, after a moment’s hesitation she picked up the phone. Silently she crossed her fingers. If her father or Paul answered she would hang up. Her luck was in. James picked up the receiver in the kitchen, a piece of toast in his hand.

  ‘James? Listen, can you talk?’

  ‘If you mean am I alone, yes. Our aged, neurotic parents aren’t up yet, and Mrs C is also still abed. Your great escape has exhausted them all.’ He chuckled. ‘Great going, sis. Where are you?’

  ‘Is Paul there yet?’

  ‘No. I gather he decided not to come until you had been rounded up. He’s furious with Archie and has told him to find you or else.’

  Clare smiled grimly. ‘James, will you do something for me?’

  ‘Anything within reason. You know me. Moderation in all things.’

  ‘I want my car and I want Casta.’

  ‘I see. Nothing much. Grand larceny and kidnapping.’

  In spite of herself she laughed. ‘Please, James. If you can’t find the key there is a spare in the pocket of my blue suitcase, unless Paul found it. I’ll meet you –’ she hesitated, not wanting suddenly to tell him where she was.

  ‘In Edinburgh,’ James put in quickly. ‘I don’t want to know where you are, in case Paul uses thumbscrews on me, but I’m booked on a flight back to Heathrow tomorrow teatime, so if you can find your way to Turnhouse, I’ll bring your mislaid possessions with me, and then leave the country before Archie realises what I’ve done.’ He laughed. ‘What the hell have you done with the parents’ car? They’re going spare about it. They think you’ve given it to your guru to join his fleet of Rollers!’

  ‘Oh God!’ Clare’s disgust was clearly audible over the phone. ‘If they had only met Zak they would realise how stupid all this is. He isn’t a guru. He’s an academic. He hasn’t got even one car, for God’s sake!’

  ‘Then where is the parental Volvo? You’d better tell me.’

  ‘It’s quite safe.’ Clare crossed her fingers. ‘And the keys are in the post to them right now.’

  ‘Thank God! If there’s one scratch on it Archie will go mad. You know what he’s like. So, how is freedom?’

  Clare smiled. ‘Not bad,’ she said quietly. ‘Not bad at all.’

  They had a cup of coffee downstairs in the airport coffee lounge. James looked at her closely. ‘You look better. Not so haunted.’

  Clare smiled. ‘I am better. I’m free.’

  ‘Of the ghosts as well?’

  She shrugged. She hadn’t had the nightmare again. Neil hadn’t mentioned it and so she had said nothing either; last night he had not made a move to sleep with her again and she had gone to bed alone, and she had slept dreamlessly and heavily, only awaking at eleven o’clock this morning to find once again that Neil had been out of the flat for hours. About Isobel she was more cautious. It was as though a shutter had come down across her mind – a shutter she had learned to hold in place herself which had been reinforced by the fact that every moment she had been awake and down at the Earthwatch office Neil had made her work.

  ‘What do you mean, you’ve never worked?’ Neil had stared at her in astonishment.

  ‘I mean I’ve never had a job. I met my husband when I was still at school,’ she said defensively. ‘We married as soon as I left.’

  ‘Dear God! You really don’t know what life is about, do you?’ For a long time Neil had stared at her, then he had rolled up his sleeves, metaphorically speaking at least, and set her to work at every office job he could think of. She had loved it.

  James sat sideways and put his arm along the back of the seat. ‘One or two pieces of news you might like. I gather your sister-in-law has had her baby.’

  Clare closed her eyes, not expecting the pang of misery which ran through her. ‘Oh,’ she said. She made a great effort and smiled at her brother. ‘So, what is it?’

  ‘A boy, I understand. A brother for Ilona, Steven and Hal, this one to be called Marcus!’ He leaned forward and touched her hand, suddenly seeing her pain and cursing himself silently. ‘Sorry. It was tactless to tell you.’

  ‘No.’ She made a great effort to pull herself together. ‘Don’t be silly. The rest of the world isn’t going to stop having babies just because I can’t have them.’ Unconsciously she rested her hand for a moment on her slim, taut stomach.

  The London flight had arrived just before Clare had entered the airport terminal building. She had not noticed Kathleen, swathed in a black embroidered shawl, making her way towards the taxis, her case in one hand, her guitar in the other, but Kathleen saw her and stiffened. Abandoning the taxi rank she turned and followed Clare back into the building with a smile of triumph. So, the bitch was flying back to London.

  Cautiously she followed Clare through the crowded passengers. Clare had not gone towards the check-in desks however, but had turned instead towards the coffee lounge, and there a few minutes later she met a tall, handsome young man, very much Clare’s type. Kathleen’s eyes narrowed. Carefully she made her way closer, hoping the crowds would hide her, but the couple had eyes only for each other and never once looked round. They bought coffees and sat down, very close together. Two steps closer, and she would be able to hear what they were saying.

  James had lit a cigarette. He blew the smoke into the air. ‘I don’t see how Paul will ever find you if you keep your head down. If necessary you can take to the heather in time-honoured fashion!’

  Clare laughed. ‘That’s strictly for the summer, I think. I’m a lot more comfortable than that.’

  ‘Really?’ He eyed her closely.

  ‘Really. I should have left Paul a long time ago.’ She touched his hand. ‘I hope all this doesn’t make things awkward for you at the office.’

  ‘Nothing I can’t cope with.’ James hesitated. ‘I don’t know if you care, but he managed to pay off his debts in time. Geoff and David bought out his holding of the family shares and he was able to pay up on Friday.’

  Clare closed her eyes. ‘Thank God. That means he’ll leave Duncairn alone now, and me.’ She opened her eyes and looked at him. ‘He’ll have no reason to go on with this charade, James!’

  ‘Let’s hope not.’ James frowned. ‘Look, keep away from Airdlie for a while even so, sis. He is still issuing orders to have you recaptured – he sounds a bit paranoid to me. I should let him cool off for a while.’ He glanced up as the loudspeaker began announcing the London-bound flight and he stabbed out his cigarette. ‘Keep in touch, Clare. Ring me, w
on’t you, and ring Mother from time to time, just to let us all know you’re OK. Mum’s on your side really, you know, it’s just that she’s so dominated by that boor she’s married to. Take care of yourself.’

  ‘I will.’ She flung her arms around his neck. ‘James, thank you!’

  Embarrassed he pushed her away. ‘Don’t be silly, sis. Look, here are the keys of your car. Casta will be going spare out there. I managed to grab your case and shove as many knickers and blouses and things as I could into it. I don’t think anyone will miss them. I told them I was driving back to London and taking Casta and the Jag to Paul. I don’t think they believed it, but they didn’t say anything.’

  Clare scowled. ‘Is Mrs C still there?’

  James nodded. ‘She’s terrified of what Paul is going to do when he gets his hands on her and expecting the sack, but for two pins the parents would keep her, you know. She gets on rather well with Mother. Must go.’ He raised his hand.

  ‘Don’t tell Paul you’ve seen me. Promise. I couldn’t bear it if he found me –’

  ‘Promise.’

  She sat for a few minutes after he had gone, then she got up and walked outside.

  Kathleen was standing in the cold blustery wind, queuing for a taxi when the green Jaguar swept past. She smiled. It had taken directory enquiries only one minute to give her Paul’s London number and it had taken her only two more to give him Neil’s address.

  ‘My God, you have to be fit to live in Edinburgh!’ Zak was panting as she let him into the flat that evening. ‘It’s nothing but stairs and stairs and more stairs, inside and out! Where else on earth would you find a sixth-floor walk up?’

  Clare laughed. ‘It’s not the sixth floor, Zak! Besides it keeps one fit. You should live here all the time.’

  ‘Uh uh! I’m from the deep soft south, remember?’ He threw himself down on Neil’s sofa, still trying to catch his breath. Beside him Casta wagged her tail in recognition.

  ‘So, Clare, how is it? Why the desperate summons north?’

  She glanced at the door. Neil had told her he was working late – he would not be back before ten at least, and she knew Kathleen was not due back from London until the next day, but still she was uncomfortable. It was as if talking about Isobel might be enough to give her the chance to break through the precarious shield and return.

  ‘I have to get rid of her, Zak. I have to stop her haunting me. I can’t go on like this. She will drive me out of my mind. Every time she returns and the story goes on unravelling in my head I am more and more afraid that I shan’t be able to stop. That I will get stuck in her world. I can’t wake myself up. Each time it has gone on and on until something from outside has interrupted her. Your protecting oil was no use. It didn’t work!’

  ‘So, you think it is a haunting?’ He crossed his long legs uncomfortably.

  She nodded slowly. ‘She comes from outside me, Zak. I’m not making her up. And I have to get rid of her!’

  ‘And just saying that to yourself is not enough?’

  She shook her head. ‘Even here, I find I’m afraid of her. I’m terrified she’s going to come back. Oh Zak! What am I going to do? It’s as I imagine epilepsy or something like that must be: a sudden change in perception, a sudden sharpening of colours, a sudden shrinking back of this world and then that other world is there and I can’t stop it; I am forced to watch; I’m trapped, until something or someone releases me.’

  Zak looked down at his hands. ‘You told me your brother-in-law was a clergyman, Clare. I think maybe you should talk to him after all.’

  She stared at him. ‘You’re not serious!’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve thought about you and your Isobel a lot. I wanted her to be a thought form because then I would be taking credit for her in a perverse way – thinking I had taught you so well that your visualisation was strong enough to create her – but that’s not it, I can see that now. She’s always been with you in one way or another, hasn’t she? She is a spirit, feeding on your psyche, possessing you.’ He paused, and seeing the fear on her face went on hurriedly. ‘I mean possessing you in the sense that she won’t go away when you want her to. You need professional help, Clare.’

  ‘But you are professional help! That’s why I rang you!’

  ‘I’m not a psychic, Clare. Not a real one. I’ve faced that fact now. I’d like to be and I know enough theory to feel that maybe I can touch on the psychic experience now and then, but when I’m confronted by something like this, something way beyond me, I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry. Either you must go to someone you know who can help – like your brother-in-law, who must have come across this sort of thing before – or I can try to find someone for you, but that’s all I can do.’

  ‘That’s all?’ She looked at him in such despair and disappointment that his heart lurched. ‘Clare –’ he hesitated. ‘Look, I do know something about psychic self-defence. I can teach you things to do, and get you some books to read on the subject so that you can arm yourself against her. That might work.’ He was chewing the inside of his cheek uncomfortably. ‘She was a sorceress, your Isobel, didn’t you tell me that? You have to fight her with her own weapons.’ He paused. ‘Have you ever tried speaking to her?’

  Clare stared at him. ‘Only when I summoned her.’

  ‘Well, next time she comes, try it. See if she sees you as a person, see if she knows you are there. Maybe all you are tapping into is the replay of an old film, something trapped in the ether. If that is so, all you have to do is switch off the projector. The power to do that is inside you. If that’s not the case –’ He shrugged. ‘Well, you could try reasoning with her.’

  Clare shivered. ‘But that means I have to summon her again …’

  ‘Better to summon her on your terms and then dismiss her, than to have her come uninvited,’ he said firmly.

  She stood up and walked uneasily round the room. ‘It frightens me, Zak. The last time I summoned her she came so easily –’

  ‘Then either deep down inside you do still want her with you, or she is a separate entity who wants to contact you.’

  Clare frowned. ‘If she comes because I want her, she should go when I don’t want her; but she won’t. She’s too strong.’

  ‘Stronger than you?’

  They stared at each other then slowly Clare nodded. ‘Much stronger than me.’

  Zak felt himself go cold. ‘I don’t know what else to suggest,’ he said helplessly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  She sat down again in silence, then at last she looked up at him. ‘Will you meditate with me?’

  Zak looked uncomfortable. ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Please. Sometimes I’m so afraid I won’t wake up …’

  He stood up. ‘Clare – I’m not so sure this is a good idea. Perhaps you shouldn’t try until we’ve talked to some more people –’

  He broke off as the phone began to ring but Clare ignored it. ‘I want to do it with you there, Zak. I don’t want it to happen when I’m alone. Please.’

  For a moment they were both silent, listening to the persistent ringing of the bell, then with an impatient exclamation Clare picked it up.

  ‘Oh, Neil, it’s you, I’m sorry. What?’ She stared down at the table as the voice spoke in her ear. When he stopped at last she put down the receiver. She had gone white.

  ‘Paul knows where I am,’ she said. Her hands had begun to shake. ‘Neil’s girlfriend told him.’

  Zak raised an eyebrow. ‘He can’t take you back to London by force, Clare.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on that.’ Clare said bitterly. She sat down. ‘Neil is coming over now. I can’t stay here any more. I’m not prepared to risk a confrontation with Paul. I don’t want to see him at all. I’m leaving.’

  ‘Now?’ Zak felt slightly guilty at the overwhelming relief which swept over him.

  She nodded. ‘Zak, you’ll stay in Edinburgh for a while, won’t you? Please?’

  For a moment he was tempted to say no; to say he had to go b
ack to Cambridge, but his conscience got the better of him. He nodded. ‘Of course I’ll stay. Just for a few days. I want to see something of Scotland while I’m here.’

  Neil drove her to Moray Place in his Land Rover. ‘So. Who was the handsome young man you were drooling all over at the airport?’ He glanced at her as they pulled up at the lights at the foot of the Mound. ‘It was obviously not your husband.’

  Clare was hugging her shoulder bag on her knees. Behind them Casta was sitting in the back with the suitcase James had brought her. It was only twenty-five minutes since Neil had first phoned, but now there was no sign of her at the flat in the Canongate. It was as though she had never been there at all.

  ‘I wasn’t drooling, that’s for sure.’ Clare laughed. ‘Your Kathleen doesn’t make a very good spy. That was my brother.’

  ‘I see.’ Neil brightened. ‘So, you aren’t entirely alone in a world of tormentors.’

  ‘Not entirely alone, no.’

  ‘And who exactly is Zak de Sallis?’ The two men had shaken hands somewhat briefly, then Zak had left, still trying to hide his relief at being able to postpone the meditation.

  ‘Zak taught me yoga and meditation last year. He’s doing a Ph.D. at Cambridge.’

  ‘Cambridge via San Francisco, or some such place, I take it?’

  She laughed again. ‘Yes, something like that! He helped me a lot, Neil, when I was going through a bad time.’

  He glanced across at her. ‘Can you tell me about it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not yet. I asked him to come up here. I needed to talk to him, to help sort myself out.’

  Neil engaged gear, turning left into Princes Street. ‘You don’t need any sorting out that can’t be achieved by booting your husband into orbit.’ The wind was tearing at the trees in Princes Street Gardens. They could feel it buffeting the Land Rover as they drove. ‘I’m taking you to a flat belonging to a friend of mine. She’s away for three months, so it’s empty.’

  ‘Won’t she mind?’