Freya's Quest (27 page)

The line connected. I heard John grumbling and shifting about. ‘Who’s there? This better be good. Do you know what time it is?’

‘It’s Freya.’

‘Oh.’ I could make out bedsprings creaking as he shifted in bed.

I did not give him a chance to wake up fully before I had launched myself into a tirade over what Dylan had done to me with his ghastly chair.

‘Calm down. Calm down.’

‘No, I won’t calm down. You never said I might be exposing myself to danger when I took on this mission!’

‘Well, I wasn’t to know. Tell me what he told you. He was a Satanist himself?’

I recounted everything Dylan had said.

‘He helped to destroy my Seraphina….’

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were once Sera’s boyfriend?’

‘I wanted you to keep an open mind….Stay impartial….Dylan’s stolen her memory away from me. Just like he stole a lot of my ideas.’

‘Eh?’

‘Well. I wanted to be a writer, too, once. Sera was fascinated by this. That’s why Dylan took it up, I reckon. He got all the glory. And I was left with nothing! Find me the rest of the answers and you will be handsomely rewarded.’

The phone went dead and I collapsed into a chair, exhausted.

I was aroused from sleep by a knock at the door. I was startled, trying to take in my strange surroundings. Morning light streamed in through the window. I consulted my watch. It was nearly half-past nine. I shifted in the chair, finding difficulty in rising to my feet. I stretched my back in response to the pain of being in an unaccustomed position for so long.

I reached the door and opened it before I realized what I was doing. I slumped back in the chair as Dylan entered the room.

‘Hi Freya, how are you?’ He appeared cheerful and calm.

I didn’t respond.

He sat down on the sofa opposite me. ‘I thought it best to prevent you from leaving last night. I was worried for your safety.’

‘Is that all?’

‘No. If you’re going to leave, it would be nice to have a proper goodbye.’

‘I wasn’t trying to leave, you fool. I was going to Janis’s.’

‘Oh.’ He was taken by surprise. He came over and sat on the arm of my chair. He began to stroke my hair. He felt me tense up and immediately stopped.

‘Look,’ he said, getting to his feet again. ‘I’m sorry about what happened yesterday, truly I am. I was so shocked to discover you in the tower. And for you to subject me to such a barrage of questions. And to find out you knew so much.’

‘You need help, Dylan. You really do.’

‘No, I’ll be fine.’

His response didn’t augur well.

‘Look, I need some space to gather my thoughts. If I do decide to leave, I will tell you. And I will say a proper farewell. Your recent behaviour doesn’t negate your hospitality up till then. Nor the very genuine feelings I’ve had for you.’

He detected my use of the past tense, and looked perturbed. He wandered around the lounge.

Then our eyes locked and we spent a few seconds duelling across the room with each other.

He came towards me again.

I averted my eyes, breaking his mesmeric stare, just as he was about to lay his hand on me.

‘Look, I must go. I’ll be back tonight, or tomorrow at the latest.’

I stroked his cheek and felt him kiss my hand. But I didn’t let our gazes meet.

Instead, I scrambled out of the door and down the steps. I began my walk down the driveway, back to the Austin-Healey at the outer gatehouse. By the time I reached the car, the portcullis was in its opened position.

I motored through the gates as quickly as I could.

I HAD NEVER had a great aptitude for navigation, so I struggled to follow Janis’s directions to Branthwaite Farm, where her rock-climbing school was based. I travelled out on twisting roads to the very western margin of the mountains. I first became confused around similarly named hamlets, then over the small deciduous woodland which masked the farm from the road. I passed the gateway several times over a twenty minute period, until finally seeing the white hoarding advertising the school and its courses.

I drove down the dirt road, finding a space in the small car park under the trees. Then I meandered up a track between dilapidated outbuildings. The cries of climbers shouting ‘That’s me!’ and ‘Climb when ready!’ echoed around the confined spaces.

As I entered a cobbled courtyard, the vista spread out over an open field. Two artificial climbing towers were located there, scaffold-and-board structures of around a hundred feet in height. Clients were grouped around the bottom of each one, dressed in readiness for their turn. Instructors on the top platforms were guiding climbers up two of the four faces on each of the towers.

I walked towards them, all the time being reminded of the fearful abseiling off the bridge at the Lodge.

‘Stand back, lady!’ An instructor had stepped forward, barking the order. He was making a stop sign with his outstretched arm and hand and didn’t look amused. ‘No one past the gates without a helmet! Can’t you read!’

I backed off, suddenly realizing I was abusing the safety code. I went back through the gate, finding the sign I’d not seen on entry in my absent-mindedness. Then I strolled through the courtyard towards the ancient farmhouse, with its rare galleried first floor. There were barns on either side, their doors wedged open to air the interiors, revealing their conversion into dormitories and equipment stores.

I could hear a vacuum cleaner droning out from within, and the wafting smells of food. I felt my stomach groan. It took a while for the young girl hoovering to respond to my knock upon the door. She was in her late teens, with a brown bob secured with a headband. She tried to put on a carefully coached customer-service smile, but it was clear she had not wanted to be disturbed.

I read the name tag on her crop top. ‘Hi, Tara. I’ve come to see Janis.’

‘The gov’nor’s up at the quarry back yonder,’ she motioned over her shoulder. ‘She won’t be free till lunch.’ She looked at her wristwatch. ‘At least another two hours.’ She held her ground as if hoping this would be enough to send me on my way.

‘May I come in and wait? She is expecting me.’

‘You’re not the new laundry maid, are you?’ She had loosened up a little.

‘No.’

She hardened again. ‘Well, it’s really not convenient. I’ve got the whole ground floor to clean. Then I’ve got to re-make the beds upstairs. The present guests are leaving this afternoon. It’s changeover day.’

When she saw I wasn’t going anywhere, she eventually invited me through the building and out onto the terrace at the rear.

I sat down at a picnic table and asked for a drink.

Tara humphed, putting her hands on her hips.

‘I’m sorry, I’ll make it myself, if you show me where to go.’

She frowned.

‘Look, I’ve come down from the Lodge and I’m feeling rather scorched!’

‘Lodge?….Grimshaw Lodge?’

‘Why, yes.’

‘Well, you should’ve said so in the first place.’ Her whole outlook changed in an instant. ‘You’d better come this way.’

She guided me around the side of the building and into a walled garden. One of the converted barns lay to the right, and a lawn sloped down to mature trees and a stream. She led me down towards this, offering me a seat in a wooden summerhouse.

‘There’s a mini-fridge in the corner. There’s iced tea, lemonade or cola in there. Help yourself.’

‘You know the Lodge, then?’

‘Yes. And that lecherous old bugger Dylan as well. E-J’s always ranting and raving about the place, but I never go up there.’

‘Why not?’

She gave me a wry grin. ‘He flirts with me whenever he comes down here. He’s very brash and arrogant. In truth, he disturbs me.’

I kept quiet and tried to avoid eye contact. My reaction made it clear to her I must have been Dylan’s latest conquest.

‘Make yourself at home. Sorry you’ll have to wait, but I believe Janis assumed you were coming after lunch.’

I tried to recall what she’d said on the phone. But I’d been too overwrought at the time to remember now.

Tara began to walk off up the slope. Then she stopped and turned around. ‘I take it you know E-J?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, if you see her, tell her I’m looking for her. She’s been very naughty. I’ll be telling Janis if she doesn’t come back and apologize to me soon.’

‘OK. I’ll tell you if she returns.’

I watched her depart through the gate in the low wall, then helped myself to a drink.

‘Hello, Auntie Freya. Has she gone?’

The sudden call made me jump and I jerked up in my chair.

E-J giggled.

I looked up to find her wide-brown eyes and freckled face beaming down at me through the window of a tree house in the boughs of a sycamore. Her long, dark-brown hair, as unkempt as ever, dangled down below the sill.

‘Hi yea! What’re you doing up there?’

‘Hiding. Tara’s going to tell Mummy. Then Mummy will spank me again.’

‘What have you done this time?’

‘I threw water bombs at some of the guests from the roof.’

‘Oh, that’s naughty!’ But I couldn’t keep a straight face for long. Soon I was consumed with mirth and I’d condoned her poor behaviour once again.

E-J disappeared from the window. In a moment she was climbing down a ladder on the other side of the trunk.

‘Careful!’ I said, yet knowing she’d be fine. She was such a tomboy.

I furnished her with a drink and she sat down beside me. She guzzled it down and I poured her another. We sat there for some time, talking about all the adventures she’d been up to since we’d last met.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘Let’s go for a walk. I’ll show you a good place to watch Mummy from.’

‘Hadn’t I better wait here, like Tara said?’

‘Forget Tara. She’s a pussycat. I can wind her round my little finger.’

I thought for a moment, then came to the conclusion she probably could. And me as well!

E-J helped me to jump over the little stream and we headed up the field outside the farm’s boundary. Then we nipped back through a gap in the dry-stone wall and were lost in a small copse. Her route had obviously been planned to avoid being overseen from the main house.

‘E-J!’ I puffed as I was struggling to keep up with her. ‘You sure we should be doing this?’

‘’Course not, Auntie Freya. But I’m going to get a spanking anyway, so I might as well enjoy myself till then.’

I chuckled. Some of my own youthful rebelliousness towards my parents was being remembered as we climbed the steepening bank.

Being with E-J also brought out the mothering instinct in me. When I thought this, I was harrowingly brought back to that grim day: lying flat on my back upon a cold hospital operating table, naked legs bound high in stirrups, having my own baby sucked out of me. I stopped and leant against the nearest tree trunk in anguish. Tears welled up and began a slow and guilty descent down my cheeks.

‘Come on, Auntie Freya. Faster! Faster! You’re nearly as bad as Auntie Amy was. And Auntie Sheila. And Auntie Beth. And Auntie Monique. And Auntie Charlotte. And Auntie Christabel. And Auntie….’ She carried on reciting this list of names, with a speed that soon blurred all her words together.

She was some distance ahead now. All I could see were her naked legs below her cutoffs. I hurried after her. The list of names she had reeled off had reinforced Dylan’s promiscuity once again. And that I might be as ephemeral in E-J’s life as the rest had been. I couldn’t help thinking I should have had the foresight and courage to have resisted him, like Tara was doing.

I caught up with E-J at the top of the hill. I regarded the sudden edge and the gaping chasm of the old quarry below with fear. E-J was swinging around on a tree trunk, her outstretched legs hovering over the mighty drop.

I hurled myself towards her and clutched us together tightly against the tree. Then I pulled her away by the hand. We settled down on the grass some way back, but still with a good view of the crater.

‘You must be more careful, E-J! One slip and you’d’ve been over that edge. And I’d never’ve been able to forgive myself.’

E-J laughed at my sense of melodrama. She didn’t seem to have a concept of danger and I was becoming increasingly nervous. But she calmed down and did what she was told, alive to my mood.