Kingdom of Shadows (25 page)

Read Kingdom of Shadows Online

Authors: Barbara Erskine

‘Good, because it’s nothing to do with me. You and David and Paul can fight it out between you.’

He studied her for a moment. She was looking particularly attractive in a flared emerald-green skirt and green and black sweater. He had always thought her a good-looking woman, particularly her eyes. There was something especially appealing about her eyes. But he was shocked to see how tired and strained she was looking.

‘I was so sorry, Clare, to hear about the results of the tests.’ He sat down and balanced his cup on his knee. ‘Chloe told me. I hope you don’t mind.’ He saw her knuckles whiten on the poker as she stirred the fire and he paused for a moment waiting for her to speak. When she didn’t he went on gently, ‘Have you and Paul discussed adoption?’

‘We haven’t discussed anything much lately.’ She put the poker down, but she stayed where she was, staring into the fire with her back to him. ‘I’m just glad all the tests and things are over.’

‘You’re not going to seek a second opinion then?’

‘No.’ She tightened her lips.

‘I see.’ He paused again, then he went on, choosing his words with care. ‘And are you going to go on with your study of yoga?’

‘How did you know I was studying yoga?’ Slowly Clare stood up. When she turned to face him she had remembered Chloe’s call and she was smiling impishly. ‘Of course. Emma told you, didn’t she?’

‘She mentioned it, yes.’ Geoffrey looked down at his cup. ‘My dear, I don’t want you to think I’m interfering, but I was a little concerned when I heard what you were doing. Can we talk about it?’

‘That sounds very portentous, Geoffrey.’ She sat down opposite him. ‘Does the Church of England disapprove of yoga?’

‘Yoga is often misunderstood, Clare. Practitioners of it tend to emphasise the fact that it is just a method of exercising and relaxing one’s body. They play down the fact, either intentionally or because they do not know it, that it is also a spiritual exercise, designed to bring about changes in one’s whole psyche, and that if one does it properly it can open and expose one’s mind and soul, and leave them very vulnerable.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Does that sound very pompous?’

She nodded. ‘I’m afraid it does rather. A far cry from the classes they give in the village hall here.’

‘But you didn’t learn it in the village hall, did you?’ He put down his coffee cup. ‘I gather that the man who taught you has also taught you something about meditation.’

‘Which again comes highly recommended in every book you pick up these days. It’s the panacea of the eighties.’ She frowned. ‘It’s not dangerous, Geoffrey.’

He scowled. ‘Tell me about these visions you see.’

‘You mean the one with the horns and the cloven hooves and the tail with a point on the end?’

Outside the sun was fighting its way out of the mist. A ray of sunlight crept slowly across the carpet and stopped at her feet.

He didn’t laugh. For a long moment he watched her intently, then at last he looked away. ‘You think it all a joke?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not a joke. Not to me – but it is when you take it so seriously.’ She refused to allow herself to think about what Zak had said.

‘I take it seriously because it’s a serious matter, Clare.’

‘You’re talking about the witchcraft now, of course.’ She looked at him solemnly. ‘I didn’t think I’d told Emma about that. There are a lot of covens in East Anglia – but there are waiting lists. One would be lucky to get into one.’ She walked over the window and stared out, so he couldn’t see her face. ‘I’m getting very good at it.’

Behind her Geoffrey swallowed. ‘Clare –’

‘It was frightening at first, of course – especially the first time I raised the devil. It’s hard to remember the ceremonies; the incantations – but when it works …’ She turned to face him. ‘Don’t you believe me? You should ask Sarah. She’ll tell you. She caught me at it last night. She was almost terrified to death.’

‘Clare –’

‘The Church of England is boring, Geoffrey.’ She was speaking very fast. ‘It hasn’t reassured me, or comforted me. It leaves me cold. I’m sorry. But it’s true. And if it’s concerned about my soul I’m grateful – but I don’t need its concern. I’d rather go on my own way.’

‘Will you tell me what you do?’

‘The ceremonies are secret. You know better than to ask that.’ She was swinging from humour to seriousness so quickly he was not sure which was which.

‘Then tell me what happens. Do these people appear to you as apparitions?’

‘They appear as people; in my head. They are daydreams. Imaginary. Nothing to do with you.’

‘But they are not daydreams, are they? You are summoning them.’

‘Imagining, summoning. What’s the difference? It is not as though any one else can see them. At least …’ She stopped in mid sentence. She was staring at the dog who was lying head on paws near the door. Casta had sensed them. And so had Zak. She shivered suddenly.

Geoffrey was watching her closely. He frowned. ‘Please let me help you, Clare,’ he said. His voice was uncharacteristically gentle. ‘Please. I can get rid of them for you.’

She stared at him. ‘Get rid of them?’

‘These people who are tormenting you.’

‘They are not tormenting me! And I don’t want to get rid of them!’ Her indignation flared again. ‘I care about them, Geoff. Isobel is like another me. I want to know all about her. I want to dream about her, or conjure up her shade or whatever it is I’m doing. She belongs at Duncairn. She’s part of my history; she’s part of me. She’s living again through me. And I intend to go on summoning her to me, even if it does put my soul in jeopardy!’ She took a deep breath. ‘What sort of life do you think I lead here, Geoff? What do you think I do all day?’ She sat down near him. ‘I’m young; I’m energetic; I’m intelligent. I can’t have children, so I’m not spending my time with my family. I have a housekeeper to look after the house. My husband doesn’t want me to work – and up to now I haven’t been able to face the hassle of fighting with him about it. He doesn’t want me with him all the time either. I spent a lot of time raising money for charity when we were first married – but he resented even that time I wasn’t with him.  I have no friends around here. A lot of acquaintances, but no one I could call a friend. I wanted to go up to Scotland to see my mother and to go to Duncairn – but he wouldn’t even let me do that! So, what the hell am I supposed to do all day?’ Her voice had risen passionately. ‘I took up yoga, Geoffrey, to try to learn calmness, to reduce stress, to try to have a baby. That, it appears, is never going to happen, but I have grown to enjoy yoga and meditation, to rely on it, if you like. It makes me feel good and it gives me a prop when I need one. I am beginning to fight my way out of this morass of boredom and indecision. I am beginning to question what the point of it all is. And because of that, I am beginning to make sense of my life.’ She paused and smiled at him. ‘I’ve always had dreams, Geoff. I’ve always been haunted by the past. That is nothing new. What is new is that I’ve learned to call it up at will, and learn from it.’

‘I appreciate that you have problems with your marriage, Clare.’ Geoffrey rubbed his cheek with his hand. ‘But they can be faced in other ways.’ He hesitated. ‘You must see, my dear, that what we are talking about has gone beyond daydreaming. You are not some sort of female Walter Mitty. You are lighting candles and invoking the spirits of the dead. And they are, as you have found, only too eager to communicate. It is dangerous, Clare.’

In the long silence that followed as they stared at each other they both heard the scrunch of car tyres on the gravel outside the house.

Clare shivered again. She swallowed. ‘That will be Sarah coming back. I think you’d better go, Geoff.’

Slowly Geoffrey stood up. ‘Of course.’ He reached out and took her hands. ‘Please think about what I’ve said, Clare, I beg you. And feel you can ring me at any time. If you’re lonely, come and see us. Chloe is very fond of you. We both are. And I’ll have a chat with Paul. He must be made to realise that you need something to occupy you –’

‘Don’t you say a word to Paul!’ She was angry suddenly. ‘I am quite capable of talking to my own husband. Keep out of it, Geoffrey. I’m working things out my own way.’ In the distance the doorbell pealed. ‘Now, go. Please go. Sarah must have forgotten her key –’ She almost ran into the hall.

Outside there was a florist’s van. There was no sign of Sarah or her car. A young woman was standing on the gravel, staring up at the house front, a cellophane sheaf of flowers in her arms.

‘Mrs Royland?’

Clare carried the flowers back into the drawing room where Geoffrey was still standing awkwardly in front of the fire. He smiled as she laid the flowers down on the coffee table. ‘It looks as though someone loves you after all.’ He watched as she unpinned the note which came with them.

Tearing open the envelope Clare read the carefully written message and her face went white.

‘So sorry to hear you are unwell, but delighted you have reconsidered the sale of Duncairn. Look forward to meeting you when you are recovered. Very Best Wishes. Rex Cummin.’

The sea was churning restlessly over the rocks at the foot of the cliffs. Neil walked to the place where the wall had fallen and peered down into the dark. A gentle south wind touched his cheek with cold fingers. Above, the sky was ablaze with stars.

‘It’s very quiet, isn’t it?’ Behind him Kathleen glanced nervously down over his shoulder towards the white luminescence which was the sea curdling on the rocks far below. She turned and walked back towards the keep, feeling the chill of the dew soaking into her shoes. ‘What a spooky place. Where is the oil? Right under the castle?’

Neil hadn’t moved. Hands in pockets, he hunched his shoulders. ‘It’s very deep. It would cost a lot to drill here.’

‘But not a fraction as much as it costs to drill under the North Sea, presumably.’ She paused. ‘I like your Mr Grant at the hotel. You’ve got an ally there.’ Walking back to him, she took his arm. ‘We didn’t need to come up here, Neil.’

‘I needed to.’ He turned to go with her. ‘This place is special, Kath. Can’t you feel it? It represents everything that Scotland stands for. A castle high on a cliff; a castle which has stood here for eight hundred years; a place where they fought for Scotland’s independence. A place where men and women died to save Scotland’s resources for herself.’

Kathleen shivered. In spite of herself she glanced over her shoulder. Ever since they had walked out into the darkness after dinner she had had the feeling they were being watched. ‘Scotland didn’t have many resources. Not until the oil came,’ she said gently.

‘Scotland has always had resources. Her people; her learning; her pride and independence …’

Kathleen grinned ruefully. ‘So, do I gather that if it were a Scots’ oil company you wouldn’t feel so bad about their bid?’

‘No. Even then we would fight. The environmental threat is too great. Imagine it, Kath. A hundred-foot drilling rig here, on the cliffs. It would be sacrilege!’ He pushed his hands deep in his pockets. ‘But an American oil company – run by people who know nothing of Scotland – who have never even been here! That is scandalous.’

‘Jack Grant said they’d been up here at the weekend.’

‘Oh yes, another surveyor, no doubt. I don’t expect Cummin has ever been here, or his US directors. The people in charge of wrecking places invariably live thousands of miles away.’

High above them the tower rose black against the luminous sky, the broken walls jagged and irregular in front of the stars. Where was Clare Royland? Why wasn’t she here, fighting?

‘Neil –’ Kathleen was beside him again.

‘Go back to the hotel, Kath, please. I need to think.’ There was a long silence. He could feel her eyes on his face in the darkness. Then she shrugged. ‘OK. I’ll see you later. Don’t fall over the edge, now.’

He watched as her figure faded into the darkness, then he turned back towards the castle. How could Clare Royland even contemplate selling? How could she betray her roots, her heredity like this? Couldn’t she feel it when she came here? The pull? The tie which held the sons and daughters of Scotland to the land. He pictured her yet again with her expensive car and her rich, beautiful clothes and he frowned as somewhere a bird let out a long mournful cry. He and Clare Royland were going to have to meet …

   

‘So, how are you enjoying working in a man’s world, honey?’ Rex smiled at Diane Warboys as she sat opposite him in the pink alcove at Corney and Barrow. ‘As challenging as you hoped?’

‘It’s not strictly a man’s world any more, Rex. But it is challenging, yes, and I’m enjoying it enormously.’ She leaned back in her chair and looked at him hard. It had been nearly ten years since she had last seen her godfather. Then he had been based in Houston, and she had called in to see them one vacation when she was at school. He was still an extraordinarily handsome man, tanned, silver-haired, with a smile which could charm a bird out of a tree, but he was tired – she could see it in his eyes. ‘How are you and Mary?’ She smiled at him fondly. ‘I had no idea you were based in London now.’

‘We’re just fine.’ Rex sighed. ‘Getting older. But that’s to be expected, I suppose.’

She laughed. ‘You old fraud. You don’t look a day over forty.’

‘Well, I’m quite a bit older than that, honey.’ His face was sober for a moment. ‘A lot more than that. But let’s talk about you. What is it like, working for BCWP? Are they good people?’

‘The best. Well almost. We were number two, last year.’

Rex frowned. ‘So, there’s no truth in the rumours that they’re undercapitalised.’

Diane raised an eyebrow. ‘My, we have been doing our homework.’ She grinned. ‘No truth at all. The firm is solid. There were one or two shaky moments when they first set up, but not any more.’

‘I came across the name of one of your directors the other day.’ He glanced up at her under his eyebrows. ‘Paul Royland.’ He noticed the slight colouring of her cheeks and he frowned. ‘Do you know him at all well?’

‘I had dinner with him and his wife last weekend, actually.’ Diane eyed him cautiously. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Just curious to know what kind of people my goddaughter is working for.’ He grinned. ‘Is he a good business man, do you reckon?’

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