River of Destiny (39 page)

‘You seem to have known them quite well,’ Zoë commented curiously. ‘I thought you didn’t rate them very highly as neighbours.’

‘I didn’t. I didn’t like Dave. And they chickened out. They should have waited to see what was going to happen.’

‘A research project.’

‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘If you like. Go on, you’d like to know, wouldn’t you? What happened.’

‘I can guess what happened. Some poor woman who lived round here – presumably she didn’t live in the barn itself – was pregnant and very afraid. She probably died in childbirth.’ She shuddered again. ‘And her poor spirit is wailing from the rooftops about it and has been ever since. It is gross!’

He looked up at her from the book he was perusing. ‘You don’t sound very sympathetic.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She sat down abruptly on one of the seats by his window. ‘You’re right. That sounded awful. It’s just that it was too close. I was her.’ She reached for the coffee pot and poured herself a refill. ‘Is this why Ken was sleepwalking, do you suppose? Is it all part of it?’

Shaking his head, Leo helped himself to the last drops of coffee, real coffee. He had not made the mistake of offering her instant again. ‘Dave never mentioned sleepwalking. Has Ken mentioned nightmares?’

‘No.’

‘I don’t think all this applies to the other barns. It is specific to yours. Threshing was built in the sixteenth century, I think, so it’s not as old as yours. And The Summer Barn was later than that. I think they put it up as a granary at the beginning of the nineteenth with lots of extensions later. Yours was the one the planning people made all the fuss about when they submitted the plans for conversion. If I were you I would want to know more. How else can you lay the ghost? The trouble is that there is often no record of the names of the people who worked on the farms. We know the Turtills were here, but unless there is reason to list the other inhabitants we will never know who they were.’

She was becoming intrigued inspite of herself. ‘There is the Census. That must tell at least who was here every ten years since the first, and it’s online now.’

Leo applauded silently. ‘What a fantastic point! I shall look it up. Just out of curiosity.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’m really sorry, Zoë, but I’ve got to go out soon. Can we meet up to talk about this tomorrow perhaps?’

Zoë jumped to her feet. ‘I’m sorry. I never thought.’

‘It’s OK.’ He laid his hand on her arm. ‘Just an appointment I can’t miss. Row out to
Curlew
, if you like. Veg out away from the world. I do that often. It is so peaceful down there.’

She shook her head. ‘That might be lesson ten, but I think it’s too soon to go on my own. Don’t worry. There is a lot to do at home.’

He held out one of the books. ‘Some bedside reading?’

‘No way!’

He laughed. ‘OK. See you tomorrow, then.’ Walking with her to the door he watched as she crossed his garden and let herself out of the gate. Then he turned back to the kitchen. ‘Jade?’ He opened the back door. ‘You can come out now.’

There was a scuffling in the flowerbed and a red-faced Jade emerged from behind his lavender bush. He could smell the fragrance of the plant on her as she came and stood on his doorstep looking sheepish. ‘How did you know I was there?’ she asked crossly.

‘I can see through walls.’

‘And you sent her away.’

‘I told her I was going out. How much of that did you hear?’

‘All of it.’ She stared at him defiantly.

‘Liar.’

She smiled cheekily. ‘You don’t know how much I heard.’

‘I can have a good guess. Did you hear the bit about the police looking for your brother?’

‘No.’ She went white.

‘Well, they will be if he doesn’t behave himself. So you get home now and tell him.’

‘But I thought you might take me for a sail.’

‘Not today. I’m sorry.’

‘But you took her.’ The resentment was obvious.

‘I will take you, but today I have to go out. If you had heard every word of our conversation you would know that that is what I told Zoë and the same applies to you. I am busy today so scram!’

Her face was transformed into a scowl. ‘Can I stay here and wait for you?’

‘No. I’m sorry.’

She turned sulkily towards the door.

‘Jade!’ he called after her. ‘Key?’ He held out his hand.

She scowled even harder. Reluctantly she put her hand into her jeans pocket and produced a key on a keyring with a small pink plastic teddy bear fob. He opened the ring with his fingernail and took off the key, then he gave her back the bear. ‘Put your own door key on that, OK?’

She stuck out her tongue at him and headed for home. He waited until she was halfway across the grass before he closed the door and double-locked it. He didn’t trust her an inch. There would be backup keys and probably back-ups of the backups, if he knew anything about her at all. He wondered where she got the money to have all these keys cut.

Zoë paused as she got to the front door of The Old Barn and turned to look back at The Old Forge. She was in time to see Jade heading across the grass towards home and she gave a quick, irritated smile. You had to give it to the girl. She was nothing if not persistent. She stood by the door weeding one of her tubs, the one which contained pink geraniums and ivies and Michaelmas daisies, until she saw Leo come out. He had a portfolio under his arm. She watched as he turned and double-locked the front door – a wise move, in her opinion – and then he headed up the path towards the garages. So, he really was going out. Comforted that he had not been making some excuse, she turned and let herself into her own door, bolting it behind her with the thought that if Jade was at a loose end she might find the idea of neighbour-baiting an appealing one. She walked through into the great room and stopped dead.

Ken was there standing by the woodburner. With him were John and Amanda Danvers.

‘Surprise!’ Ken announced triumphantly. ‘You didn’t suspect, did you? They’ve come up for your birthday.’

‘My birthday!’ Zoë echoed. She felt weirdly out of sync. The two faces looking at her were like strangers.

‘Zoë, love! You look completely gobsmacked!’ Amanda let out a peal of laughter. She was dressed in an immaculate blue-striped top and skin-tight navy jeans with stack-heeled red sandals. Slim as ever, and with a neat bob of dark hair, she immediately made Zoë feel dowdy. She moved forward and gave Zoë a hug. ‘Ken told us you didn’t suspect a thing. Isn’t it wonderful? So much fun – and this place is completely magical. Glorious!’

‘Zoë, darling.’ John stepped forward, as always quieter, lower key than his wife. He kissed her cheek and reached for her hand. ‘So, how is wildest Suffolk? Are you settling in?’ Far taller than the rest of them, he was a rangy, angular man, slightly stooped, with a mop of untidy grey hair and gold-rimmed glasses.

He had always been more observant than his wife; he would have spotted the dark rings under her eyes, the moment of something like terror she had felt as she registered the people standing in the room, before she had actually recognised them.

‘It’s been quite a gear change, coming up here,’ she said quietly. ‘I expect Ken has told you.’

‘Ken has been raving about it all,’ Amanda said. ‘We’ve been following his emails avidly and reading his blog. So many adventures, and your own mooring at the end of the garden. We can’t wait to see how
Lady Grace
has fitted in. I do hope we can go out in her soon.’

So Ken had been emailing them. Zoë was trying desperately to readjust, to put Leo and Jade and the dream out of her mind and concentrate suddenly on practicalities, like preparing a bedroom for unexpected visitors. And a blog. She didn’t know he wrote a blog. She realised suddenly how out of touch she had become since they had moved. She couldn’t even remember when she had last checked her email.

As if reading her thoughts Ken broke in, ‘Your room is ready, folks. As it was all a surprise for Zo, I made up the bed last night after she was asleep. I was terrified she would hear me and think I was the ghost.’

‘The ghost?’ Amanda’s eyes rounded. ‘You have a ghost?’

Zoë and Ken exchanged glances. It took only a fraction of a second but John saw it. ‘My goodness, you have.’ He looked at his wife. ‘I hope you’ve got your ghost-busting hat on, darling. Amanda’s a dab hand with ghosts, did you know?’ He turned back to Ken and Zoë.

Zoë finally gathered her wits. ‘Well, you’ll have plenty to practise on here. But first things first. Let us show you your room. Once you’ve settled in we’ll have plenty of time to catch up.’

‘And we’re going to start with a pub lunch,’ Ken said. ‘No cooking for Zo today.’ He gave her a smile.

‘But my birthday is not for three days.’ Zoë had finally worked it out. She was appalled to find she hadn’t even known what day it was today!

‘No matter, darling.’ Amanda pounced and gave her another hug. ‘Every day is going to be a birthday for you this week. We are going to see to that, aren’t we, John?’

Zoë smiled. It had suddenly dawned on her. Ken must have asked them up in an attempt to cheer her up, to distract her. She wasn’t sure whether to be angry or touched that he should have thought of it.

Eric had guessed at once that he was a marked man. He watched from the edge of the woodland as it grew light, screwing up his eyes, trying to make sense of the scurrying forms which emerged from the mist and then disappeared again. He could see the forge from here, a solid form which from time to time dissolved into the shadows. By now there should be smoke emerging from the roof, but it looked bleak and almost abandoned. He thought about Edith for a moment, alone and worried about him, no doubt, but treasuring within her the hope of their future child. He wondered if Hrotgar had been there looking for him. Almost certainly. It was the obvious place to start the search. Luckily she knew nothing and would have told him nothing even had she known where her husband had hidden the sword.

He ducked back into full shadow and retraced his steps into the woods; from there he took a narrow path through the undergrowth, heading round the village to the east. Once well out of sight of village and hall he cut back up through the paddocks with grazing oxen, and the strip fields, their parallel turf divisions exaggerated in the half-light. He moved along the headlands and across a horse enclosure, making for the little church. Father Wulfric would help him.

He pushed open the door, wincing as it creaked loudly on its hinges. Father Wulfric was kneeling before the altar, deep in prayer.

‘Father?’ Eric’s voice was hoarse after the night out in the damp woods.

The old priest paused, ended his prayer and crossed himself. He rose to his feet with a groan as his aching knees protested at the sudden movement. ‘I thought you might come to see me, my son.’

‘What shall I do, father?’ Eric knelt before him.

‘You have the sword safe?’

Eric nodded.

‘I have prayed for an answer to your question since the Lady Hilda came to see me this morning. As soon as they found the sword had been replaced there was an outcry. The heathen sorcerer says that the runes you carved at his command dedicated the sword to his gods of war, but that it was for our Lord Egbert to carry the sword to the Otherworld.’ The old man shuddered.

‘I don’t want my sword committed to the flames on an old man’s bier.’

The priest shook his head. ‘Nor to the earth. I know not yet what plans they have for the disposal of his body. The Lady Hilda, it appears, has no say in the matter.’

‘So it would be best to pass the sword on to Oswy as Lord Egbert’s heir, or to his brother?’

Father Wulfric nodded. He had no intention of telling the swordsmith of the threats that had been made against him. No doubt the man could guess as much himself. The entire village was dividing. Hidden allegiances and jealousies were surfacing. He knew the swordsmith had changed his beliefs and followed the old religion, but now he was wavering. Others who were openly Christian had harboured secret longings for the old ways. Whilst some dithered, the Christian majority was ranging itself against a hothead bunch who, attracted to the ideas of the old religion, as tradition demanded followed the leadership of their lord. If Egbert worshipped in the old religion then so did they. Peace against war. Why was it always thus? He glanced up at the small round-topped window behind the altar and sighed. This small precious house of God was so frail a refuge, for Eric or for himself. He shivered, his old bones protesting against the cold damp heart of this place. ‘Go, my son, and fetch the sword and bring it here just after dark tonight. I will see to it that Oswald is here. He has sworn to protect the rights of his brother’s sons until they are old enough to bear a sword themselves. Once he has it the responsibility is passed on and you can rest more easily.’ He hesitated. ‘Do not trust too much, Eric. There are those you might consider friends who conspire against you.’

Eric frowned. ‘Who?’

Wulfric shook his head. ‘Walls have ears. I dare not speak names out loud.’

‘And yet you tell me to come here, out loud. And you tell me to give the sword to Oswald, out loud!’ Eric was staring round, suddenly very afraid. ‘Who is here?’