The Grotto's Secret: A Historical Conspiracy Mystery Thriller (11 page)

38

Kelby had been so engrossed in tapping on her laptop she hadn’t noticed the day had long ago slipped into night without any fanfare.

Car horns tooted and taxi cabs blasted in return as far below London took on a new persona. Without looking Kelby knew the vibrant night-life would be aglow with light spilling out of the many pubs, restaurants and ground floor offices lining the Thames.

From far below, animated chatter and rowdy laughter drifted up. The tinkling sounds of people living a happy life sent a pang through her. A longing for her own little family nest.

Since Teresina’s accident her phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Every Tom, Dick and Harry reporter wanted to know what she thought about Teresina’s death.

Questions came at her from every direction. When last had she spoken to Teresina? What was she like to work with? Had she known little Majella? What would happen to the show now? On and on and on it went.

Jon’s plea for privacy on the evening news hadn’t made any difference, although surely people realised the crew was grieving?

Engrossed in her own Google search on the rizado, Kelby didn’t hear Jimmy enter her office. He slammed her laptop lid shut, almost snaring her hands. ‘You have to get out of here. Go see Annie.’

Kelby leapt out of her chair. ‘What the hell?’

Jimmy stood his ground with his arms folded across his chest. ‘Go. She needs you.’ He aimed his pointy chin at her, ‘You know I’m right. Get out of here, boss.’

She grumbled, irritated more with herself than him, ‘I’ll do these reports later.’

‘Don’t you dare work over Annie’s sick body!’

As she packed her red leather briefcase, Jimmy followed Kelby’s pointed gaze at Zelda, who was leaving with some other staff. ‘What do you want to do with Zelda’s shopping?’

‘I’ll take it with me.’

‘I spoke to Karen and she’s going to take Zelda under her wing on the clothing issue. And I called Twitter. As we suspected the account had false details and they’ve closed it.’

Feeling a rush of relief, Kelby exhaled hard. The threat had hung over her all day. She hadn’t wanted to leave the sanctuary of her office in case some twit followed her and tried to carry out his threat.

‘And Big Boy is waiting for you in the lobby.’

She chuckled, ‘It didn’t take you long to find Hawk a nickname.’ With renewed determination, she grabbed her briefcase and shot out of the door.

Jimmy grabbed the shopping bags and followed her. In the reception, he helped her into her coat, ‘Here. It’s fierce windy out there.’

The lift button bleeped. The shaft came to life and swooshed up to collect her. She stepped inside and murmured, ‘Thank you Jimmy.’

He shrugged. ‘Yer grand.’

A smile tugged at her mouth and lit her eyes. She nodded at him with a lump in her throat.

As the lift descended she thought for the hundredth time about the earlier tweet:
You better watch your back, you’ll be raped before the night is over
.

The night wasn’t over, but at least with Big Boy nearby there wouldn’t be any more rape threats.

39

It was bad enough María had exposed Madre by writing of a woman healer although with a different name in a different town. Even worse that she had broken her promise to keep the herbal manuscript a secret.

As before, Tío had sent it to his family who
rápidamente
sent word that it was good enough to be made
publicus
.

They’d never been so rapid in their messages to Tío and they complimented the author on the manuscripts vast amount of in-depth knowledge.

Every week in church she prayed the woman healer story had been lost on its way to Barcelona. Now she prayed for the herbal manuscript to go missing.

In the candlelight, María peered at the title of her new story:
The Grotto’s Secret
. A shame no-one would get to read it, but she couldn’t risk people coming to the grotto. Thankfully the doomed manuscript never once mentioned the grotto or its location.

No, she had to change her idea.
The Grotto’s Secret
would have to remain in her imagination. Leaving the rest of the page empty, she slid the story title into the notes about rizado. With parchment so scarce, she hated leaving an empty page. Maybe she’d return to it with a different story to tell.

María ached for another opportunity to treat a wounded animal. Each time she used rizado she had learnt more about how it worked.

Over the last few weeks, she’d thought of little else but healing, hoping she’d been blessed with the same gift as her mother. The only skill she possessed was seeing people in her head, doing things they shouldn’t be doing. Alas, some would verily say that was a sign of being insane.
Loco
. But María waited for the day when her stories would be admired.

With Madre in bed, María took the opportunity to carry out a task her mother wouldn’t
permitir
. She listened for a moment and heard Madre’s faint snoring from her bed.

With the stealth of a viper, María unwrapped a long piece of soft leather that bound the secret copy of
Herbal de Carbonela.
Instead of giving it one layer of leather for the original binding, she had covered the book with two layers of leather, one on top of the other.

Now, using a yard of twisted thread, María stitched a small square just below the knot. Once she had bound the two strips together into an invisible pouch, she hid Madre’s map of the grotto inside. She stepped back to check her work. The only way the secret pouch would be known, was by the slight raised mark of her stitches on the leather skin.

Pleased with herself, María hid the book in amongst the
lavandarium
. Madre never checked the clothing to be washed because it was María’s task. Later, the
Herbal de Carbonela
would once again be hidden in a clay pot in the cellar, but before she did that, she had one more
tasca
.

Through soundless movements, María unwrapped another long piece of soft leather she had found in Padre’s workshop and held it close to the candlelight.

In the same way she had made a binding for Madre’s herbal book, she would make another book, but this one would only need one layer of leather binding.

She wanted to carry her writing with her to the grotto, hidden on her body, so she could make up stories while staring across the valley towards the sea. Maybe she’d write that story about a girl like her having a sea adventure.

With Madre’s herbal journal still
fresco
in her mind as her
modus
, one more time she copied the making of the book. From Padre’s workshop she had taken two pieces of wood to make a cover for the front and back of the block formed by the parchment pages.

She turned the ends of the leather over on the inside of the front and back boards and then pasted them down. At the bottom of the book, she extended the leather, from covering the boards, into a long flap and knotted the end. She stroked the leather strip for a moment, loving the softness tickling her fingertips.

Glancing over her shoulder to check Madre was still asleep, María felt her heart beating faster. With trembling fingers, she slipped the knot under Padre’s belt. With the leather extension at the bottom of the book, her book hung upside down. When she lifted it, as if to read it, the book was the right way up. Although Tío had shown her many similar books, they were scribed and ready for reading, but her book was empty and waiting to be written at the grotto.

With her book complete, María paced in front of the hearth watching the dying embers. Practicing how to wear it, María let it dangle from Padre’s girdle that she now wore under her garments. Although she hated a girdle over her tunic, this one would allow her to hide her book. It felt odd to have the leather book slap at her thighs.

Suddenly a loud bang made María jump.

40

The lift from the car park basement rose into St Adelaide’s Hospital. Its doors pinged open and Kelby stepped into the private hospital’s reception. Thankfully, Hawk hadn’t insisted on coming with her. She had been looking forward to this moment.

Her special time with Annie.

With her phone glued to her ear while she lugged shopping bags and listened to messages, Kelby ran head first into an older couple.

‘Whoa!’ The old gent raised his hands, leaning them back in a theatrical pose.

‘Oh,’ Kelby muttered, ‘I’m so sorry.’

His wife gave a loud tut and shook her head. Kelby backed away, apologising again. Embarrassed by the thought that people milling around the private Surrey hospital might recognise her, she dropped her eyes to the floor and rushed down the crowded passage, weaving between people.

In her haste she didn’t spot a doctor ahead of her backing out of a room with an armful of papers. Kelby banged head first into him. Her shopping bags of toys slipped out of her hands and thumped to the floor.

His arms flew into the air, his fingers attempting to grapple the neat pile of documents. Splat. The papers hit the floor and scattered, fluttering away as if they had been looking for an opportunity to escape his clutches.

The man rose to his full height.

Kelby groaned.

Doctor Robson peered at her. ‘Hey, calm down. What’s the rush?’

Even though his lopsided boyish grin sent waves of excitement to her nerve endings, she couldn’t let on what effect he had on her. Without meaning to, she snapped at him, ‘You should look where you’re going.’

‘No,
you
crashed into me.’

She shook her head, ‘
You
backed out of a room in reverse without even a glance at who was coming by.’

‘Kelby, this is a hospital. People generally don’t fly down these corridors at a hundred miles an hour.’

‘Hah!’

‘You shouldn’t be here if you’re in that kind of  rush. There are some good race tracks near here. Try Silverstone or Brands Hatch.’ Although his tone sounded brusque, his eyes beamed amusement, ‘Both will suit your needs.’

Her jaw dropped. ‘What? You’re the clumsy one. You started it this morning on the plane!’ Kelby’s hands found her hips, and without realising she adopted one of Teresina’s poses.

‘Am I supposed to be intimidated?’ He dropped onto his knees to retrieve his flapping papers.

She mirrored his action; a hot flush prickling her skin. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m rushing upstairs to see someone.’ Bent over, Kelby started to help him collate the papers, but sudden embarrassment at her silliness overcame her. ‘Sorry.’

Without another word she straightened, grabbed the Hamley’s bags and rushed off. As she reached the top of the stairs, her phone beeped to announce another text had arrived.

When U R finished @ the hospital, bitch, I’ll B @ yours

41

Kelby’s glare lifted from the stalker’s text and moved down the stairwell. No-one was there. No-one knew where she was. Except the doctor. And Jimmy. And maybe a few late-leaving staff members who had seen Jimmy chasing her out of the office.

She jabbed the last number dialled on her phone and panted into it, ‘You there, Hawk?’

‘Everything okay, Miss Wade?’

She exhaled and said, ‘I just got another message.’

‘I thought Twitter had closed the guy’s account. I’ll get right onto them.’

‘No, this time it was a text message.’

‘You want me to come up?’

‘No, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.’

As Kelby deleted the message, she butted into someone else and groaned.
Dear God, how many more times in one night!

‘Ah-hah! The famous sister-in-law arrives.’

‘Hello Stacie. I thought you’d be gone by now. Aren’t you on nights this week?’

Stacie raised one pierced eyebrow in her annoying know-it-all way. ‘
That’s
why you’re so late. Trying to avoid me.’

‘In case you’ve forgotten, I have three businesses to run, another five to chair as a non-exec and ten mentees to babysit. Oh, and a reality show to film.’

‘Poor Kelby! Too busy to live.’ Stacie brushed past her.

Kelby smelt cigarettes on her clothes and gawped at Stacie. ‘I don’t believe it. You come here stinking of smoke in front of Annie!’

‘Ooh, look who’s on the prowl again today.’

Any snide remark from her sister-in-law was enough to goad Kelby into retaliation. They took up their usual stance on opposing sides and faced each other en garde, ready to lunge with verbal swords.

‘You’re not fit to be her mother.’ Kelby instantly regretted her words, but couldn’t bring herself to apologise.

‘What about you?’ She grabbed Kelby’s coat sleeve. ‘You come here full of cat’s hair. Look. It’s all over you.’

Kelby looked at her coat.

‘It’s zebra-like with that horrid cat’s hair.’ Stacie leaned forward and sneered as she sniffed. ‘You even smell like cat’s pee.’ She glanced at the shopping bags and scoffed, ‘I’m surprised the shops allowed you in.’

Behind Stacie, Kelby spied a group of nurses watching with interest. One of them had the cheek to sneak in closer to listen, intrigued by yet another round of fireworks.

‘Your fag-butt stink will bring on another asthma attack.’

‘So will that cat’s hair!’ Stacie backed out of Kelby’s smell zone. ‘So don’t you dare,’ she wagged a finger in Kelby’s face, ‘accuse me of being a bad mother. You’ll never be a mother — good or bad!’

Stacie marched off leaving Kelby seething. She glanced around and found all the hospital eyes on her. She ducked her head, half in shame and half with pride. As she darted towards Annie’s room, she spoke to Gary in her head, as she often did.
Sorry Gaa, I did it again. I know I promised last time, but I can’t help it. Your wife riles me.

A nurse came out of Annie’s room and bumped into her. ‘Ahh, Miss Wade, lovely to see you.’

‘Hi, Rosalind, how’s my girl today?’

‘Why not see for yourself?’ Nurse Rosalind Potter stepped aside to let Kelby pass.

As she did Kelby shoved the shopping bags at her. ‘You told me you’re fundraising for a Down syndrome charity. Will this help?’

Rosalind glanced into the bags and gaped at Kelby. Before she could refuse, Kelby said, ‘It’s just a pile of freebies I get sent. You know, people think I want their latest products.’

‘Are you sure? It looks so expensive.’

‘Course. They’re cluttering up my office so I hope you can do something with them.’

‘Of course! Yippee, we can do lots of raffles. Thank you, Miss Wade!’

‘It’s nothing.’ As Kelby slipped into Annie’s room and closed the door, she spotted the other busybody nurses circling around Rosalind’s toys from Hamleys. Thank goodness she had insisted on a private room.

No eyeballs
in here to ogle at her.