‘No!’ Joss shook her head violently. ‘No, of course he hasn’t. How could he? That’s disgusting. It’s not possible! No!’ She was growing increasingly agitated. Running a few steps along the bank she stopped. Under the warm layers of jacket and sweater and shirt her skin was ice cold and she could feel crawling shivers of disgust. Another memory flashed before her. Eyes. Blue, warm eyes, close to her face and a swirl of soft dark velvet then they were gone again and she was standing by the lake with Natalie under the lowering November clouds.
There was another long silence, then, ‘Are you all right?’ Natalie said softly. She had followed her and her eyes met Joss’s sympathetically.
Joss gave a weak smile. ‘Let’s go back in.’
‘All right. If that’s what you want.’ Natalie hesitated. ‘I could try and speak to him on my own, but –’ she paused, ‘it would be better if you were with me. You belong to the house, you see. You’re part of it all.’
Joss nodded. Walking slowly back up the lawn she stared at the house in front of her. It looked strangely blank, the study windows shuttered, her bedroom curtains only half open, the glass deadened and unreflective beneath the heavy sky. ‘David Tregarron is coming up sometime this afternoon,’ she said at last. ‘He’s a friend of ours – Ned’s godfather. He was with Edgar Gower when he had his heart attack. He’s been studying the history of the house. He’s the one who found out about Margaret de Vere.’
Natalie stopped dead. ‘Does he see?’
Joss shook her head. ‘Not that I know of. He loves the history and romance of it all. And the mystery, of course.’
‘Of course.’ It was said somewhat dryly.
‘I asked him to come so I could find out what really happened that night with Edgar and also because he believes it all. Unlike my husband, who questions my sanity. He believes Margaret de Vere really was a witch. Not a poor silly misguided old woman, but an educated clever practitioner of some kind of black magic. There’s a brass to her in the floor of the church here, did you know?’
Natalie stopped in her tracks. ‘A brass? In the church?’
‘Under that old rug in the chancel.’
‘She can’t be buried there. It must be just a monument.’
‘Why not? Why can’t she be buried here?’
‘Not if she was a witch.’
‘Of course not.’ Joss hesitated. ‘Do you want to come and see the brass?’
‘Now?’
‘Why not.’ Joss gestured towards the church. She shuddered. It would at least put off for a while the need to go back inside the house.
A few cold drops of rain were beginning to fall as Joss grasped the iron ring to lift the latch and pushed open the door. The church was very dark. Behind her, Natalie hesitated. ‘Wait, I’ll switch on the lights.’ Joss moved ahead, and a few seconds later those in the nave and the chancel came on, illuminating the vaulted roof.
‘It’s over here. See?’ Joss was standing near the rug. ‘Natalie?’ Natalie was still hesitating in the doorway. ‘What’s wrong?’ She stooped to lift the corner of the rug.
‘Don’t touch it!’ Natalie called sharply. Slowly she stepped away from the door and began walking up the aisle between the pews. She could feel the thick miasma of hatred coming from the spot where Joss was standing. It was like a tangible object in the centre of the floor.
By the time she was beside her she could feel the sweat standing out on the palms of her hands. ‘She is buried here, and whoever did it, did so against the wishes of the church and with her they buried the tools of her trade,’ she whispered. ‘They must have been very powerful or very influential to have managed to do that.’
‘They were a powerful family,’ Joss murmured back. ‘In with the king.’
‘Indeed,’ Natalie replied grimly. She hooked her foot under the corner of the rug and nudged it backwards, exposing a little of the beautiful filigree metalwork in the stone. ‘I don’t remember ever seeing this before; ever feeling anything before. Something has awoken the evil.’
Joss grimaced. She gave a small shudder. ‘There’s another brass over there – a tiny one let into the wall, to her daughter, Katherine.’
Natalie glanced at her. She too shivered. The church was cold.
‘Margaret was accused of bewitching the king to win him for Katherine, but then she died. Natalie?’ Her voice sharpened suddenly. ‘What’s that? It smells like smoke.’
‘It is smoke.’ Natalie was staring down the church towards the door through which they had just come. A column of smoke, wispy, smelling of autumn bonfires, was slowly revolving in the back of the church.
Joss caught her arm. ‘What is it?’ she whispered.
Natalie gave Joss a small push. ‘I don’t think we’re going to wait to debate about it. Let’s get out of here.’
‘We need to turn off the lights – ’
‘Forget the lights! Come on, quickly.’ She dragged Joss down towards the side aisle as the column of smoke began to move towards them. In thirty seconds they were out, pulling the door shut with a crash.
‘What was it?’ Joss was panting as they made their way swiftly up the path. She was feeling sick with fear.
‘Some kind of energy. Black energy.’
‘It wasn’t a person?’
‘No, it wasn’t a person.’
Joss stopped, clutching her side. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve got a stitch. I can’t go on. Are we safe here? I thought churches were safe, sacred places, Natalie!’
‘They are usually, but this one was desecrated by the burial of someone who practised the black arts, right in front of the altar. Who knows what it might have done to the church?’ Natalie took a deep breath, more unnerved than she liked to admit even to herself. ‘As I said, I’ve never felt anything before here – but then,’ she gave a tight smile, ‘I never came here much. Something has happened here recently –’ she paused. ‘Mary Sutton. Jim told me she died here. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was you coming back to the Hall with small children; there haven’t been any children here in years. I don’t know.’ She shook her head. ‘There used to be stories about the church – there was a booklet, my mum had it. Maybe I’ll ask her. I think we should go back to the house.’
‘But the house – ’
‘I know.’ Natalie gave a grim laugh. ‘The house is frightening too. But at least I know what I’m dealing with there.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ Joss had doubled up, trying to ease the pain in her side, overcome by a wave of dizziness.
Natalie did not appear to have noticed. She was frowning back at the church. ‘Joss, did you see where that energy came from?’
‘Near the door.’
‘It started in front of Katherine’s brass.’
Katherine
The word reverberated in the silence.
This time they both heard it.
‘Is she buried near that brass or is it just a memorial?’
Joss shrugged. Slowly she straightened. She leaned back against the old chestnut tree near the gate and took deep slow breaths, trying to calm the lurching in her stomach. Nearby, the grave of her father lay in deep shadow. Beyond it she could just see the small white crosses which showed her where Georgie and Sam were buried.
Almost without realising it, Joss reached out for Natalie’s hand. ‘I’m scared,’ she whispered. ‘Terribly scared.’
41
David was standing in the courtyard with Luke when they emerged from the path. He kissed Joss and shook hands with Natalie and led the way into the kitchen. Jimbo after giving his sister a perfunctory slap on the back preferred to stay with the car he was working on.
‘I found someone to look after my classes for me this afternoon, so I could get away.’ David was carrying his holdall and an arm full of books and papers which he dropped onto the kitchen table. ‘Lots more about Belheddon and the families that lived here and the de Veres and Edward IV and Richard III.’ Neither he nor Luke appeared to have noticed the women’s whit
e faces or their silence.
Acutely aware that her hands were shaking, Joss reached for the books, staring curiously in spite of herself, at the top one.
‘It was dreadful – the accident. Quite dreadful. I still feel so guilty.’ David met Joss’s eye at last. ‘I should never have rung him; never have let him come here. I’m so sorry.’
‘It wasn’t your fault, David.’ Joss put down the books and took his hand. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself.’
His fingers closed over hers and for a moment he felt he was drowning in her gaze. Beautiful, bewitching woman. Abruptly he remembered where he was and let go of her hand. Luke hadn’t noticed. He was talking to Natalie.
He glanced at the newcomer again. She too was a very attractive woman, he noticed, and smartly dressed now that she had taken off that horrendous old jacket. He wondered how she fitted in.
As if she had heard his question she fixed her large grey eyes on his. ‘You are asking yourself what I am doing here. Let me introduce myself. Visiting psychic, medium, nutter and according to my father, witch.’ She smiled in, he thought, an extremely sane fashion. ‘I’m here to try to help.’ She glanced at Joss and gave her a reassuring nod. Neither of them for the moment, were going to mention what had happened in the church.
‘That’s good to hear.’ David smiled back. His nervousness about returning to the house had gone. It was all right, here in the warm kitchen, with three other people in broad daylight. He looked at Luke. ‘The boys are staying with the Goodyears, you say? Don’t let them come back until this is sorted out.’
Luke tightened his lips. ‘I think that has already been agreed. So, what are you going to do? I take it that you have come to help too.’ His gaze rested on David’s face for a few seconds longer than was necessary. Then he looked from David to Natalie and back.
David shrugged. ‘I leave it up to the expert.’
Natalie grimaced. ‘Who is, at the moment, a little at a loss.’ She pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘Can I suggest you wait in here? Make some coffee or something and let me go for another wander round on my own. There are things I need to understand.’
They watched in silence as she let herself out of the kitchen and the sound of her heels on the flags in the hall died away.
‘Brave lady,’ David commented quietly. ‘Especially in view of some of the things I’ve read in here. One interesting snippet of history. Katherine’s child, whether he was the son of her husband or of the king survived the birth that killed her. He lived until 1500, and although he was only eighteen when he died he had had time to marry and father a daughter, a daughter named for his mother, Katherine.’ He patted his pile of books. ‘Otherwise these are more to do with witchcraft and magic. They were into some really sophisticated evil in those days.’
‘Do you think Natalie’s really a witch?’ Luke raised an eyebrow. ‘Not quite my image of what a witch should be. I can see her commuting on the 7.40 to the City far more easily than I could see her dancing naked round a bonfire with a broomstick!’
‘Sounds to me, old boy, as if you’re guilty of some fairly serious stereotyping, if not chauvinistic and politically incorrect something or other there!’ David put in amiably. He winked at Joss. ‘What do you think? Can she sort it all out?’
Joss shrugged. ‘I hope so for all our sakes.’
‘I’m going to see what she’s up to.’ Luke headed for the door.
‘Luke! No!’ Joss called.
‘Let him go for a minute, Joss.’ David caught Joss’s hand. ‘A word quickly, while we’re on our own.’ His tone was serious.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘What is it?’
‘Joss, I wanted to tell you. I’ve decided to leave Dame Felicia’s at the end of next year.’ It sounded so easy, so matter of fact. She would never guess the sadness behind those words; the loneliness. ‘I’ve accepted a post, teaching in Paris.’ He forced a grin. ‘A complete change is always good, as you know. After all, my research fellowship with Belheddon Enterprises will be over soon. When we know all there is to know, then what will I do with my spare time?’
‘David – ’
‘No, Joss. My mind is made up. Don’t worry I won’t lose touch. After all, I have to keep an eye on my godson. And you’ll be coming to Paris more often too now you’ve discovered Paul.’ He grimaced. ‘Pastures new, Joss. Always a good idea.’ He held her eye for a moment then looked away. Did she, he wondered, even suspect how fond he had become of her? He hoped not.
‘We’ll miss you, David.’ Her voice was very quiet.
He nodded, unable to trust himself to speak for a moment. ‘Well, you’ll see plenty of me before I leave, I promise. I’m not going for months yet.’ He gave her hand a squeeze. ‘And now, back to the fray. Let’s call old Luke back before our witch spots him and turns him into a toad!’
In the great hall Natalie was standing in front of the fireplace once again. She could see it clearly now. The power which was surging around her – uncontrolled, random power – coming up from beneath the cold flags. She frowned, holding out her hands, palm down, allowing herself to sense its origin. There was something there, deep beneath the ground.
Frowning with concentration she moved slowly across the floor towards the hall and the staircase and put her hand on the door to the cellar. It was locked. She shook the handle. Before, the feelings from the cellar had been negative, unhappy but gentle. The grief which had surrounded the small crumpled body of a little boy had permeated the walls, but that had disappeared. Even through the door she could feel something else.
Making up her mind she turned on her heel and marched back to the kitchen. ‘I need the key to the cellar, please.’
‘The cellar,’ Joss echoed. ‘Again?’
‘Please. There’s something down there. No,’ she raised a hand as Joss stood up. ‘Please, stay in here. All of you. Just tell me where the key is.’
With it in her hand at last she stood for a minute in the middle of the study, taking slow deep breaths, feeling herself centred and strong, surrounding herself with an armour of light. Pushing the small niggling core of fear which was worming its way into her stomach firmly to one side, she moved resolutely back to the cellar door and put the key into the lock.
The blast of cold air which rose from the damp darkness was the same as before. Switching on the lights she stepped through the door, onto the top step.
And began to walk down.
At the bottom of the stairs she stood still every sense alert. She was not seeing the wine racks, or the dust or the festooned pipes and electric cables which the twentieth century had introduced. Her eyes were focused on medieval vaulting, and in the farthest corner of the cellar, beneath the great hall, the shadows cast by long dead candles.
Silently she stepped closer. She could feel it more strongly now: a feral, sweat-sharp scent of danger and excitement.
Joss shivered. ‘I can’t stand it any more. I’ve got to go and see what she’s doing.’
‘She’s told you not to, Joss.’ Luke shook his head. He was uncomfortably tense, every nerve in his body stretched.
‘I have to. This is my house, Luke. I have to be there.’ She said it gently without challenge, but both he and David heard the steel in the tone.
‘Be careful, Joss.’
Her smile was absent-minded. ‘I will.’
She paused at the top of the cellar stairs and looked down. The lights were on but the first cellar was empty.
Biting back a shout to Natalie she carefully and silently began to descend the stairs into the cold, holding her breath as she strained her ears for any sound. The silence was intense; solid. At the bottom of the stairs she waited a moment, looking round. ‘Natalie?’ The call under her breath was barely more than a whisper. ‘Where are you?’
There was no reply.
Cautiously she stepped towards the archway which led into the second cellar. Natalie was standing near the far wall, staring at the stone. She appeared to be listening intentl
y.
Silently Joss stepped up beside her. Natalie gave no indication that she knew she was there. Her eyes were focused on the wall, her hands out in front of her, fingers spread as if searching for something she could not see.
‘It’s here,’ she murmured. ‘The focus. Can you feel it?’
Joss stepped a little closer to her. She could feel every nerve and muscle in her body clenched.
‘What is it?’ she breathed.
‘I don’t know.’ Natalie was shaking her head. ‘There’s a lot of energy under ground here. I think a dowser might tell you there was an underground river or spring or perhaps just earth energy. But it’s been tapped. Someone has used it, and they’ve used it wrongly.’
Joss swallowed hard. She could feel her skin prickling. ‘Can you do anything?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’ Natalie took a step closer to the wall and rested her hands on the cold stones and as Joss watched her she ran her fingers down the wall, almost to the floor.
‘It’s behind here. Whatever it is.’ She turned to Joss. ‘I think we need to look. I’m sorry, but we’ve got to do it.’
‘You mean we have to take the wall down?’
Natalie nodded. ‘Not all of it. I think it’s here. I can feel it through the stone.’ Her hand was pressed for a moment on one of the roughly shaped blocks. Gripping the edges as best she could with her nails she gave a tug but nothing happened.
‘It’s been cemented in. Look.’ Joss leaned over her shoulder and pointed at the crumbling mortar.
Natalie nodded. ‘We need a crowbar.’
‘I’ll go and fetch the others.’ Joss hesitated. ‘Do you want to come with me? Don’t wait down here.’
Natalie gave a grim smile. ‘Don’t worry. I’m all right. Just fetch something to lever this out with and bring your friend David down. Not Luke. Not at the moment. Not till we know what we’re dealing with.’