Tanners Dell: Darkly Disturbing Occult Horror (18 page)

“That was Ruby?”

He nodded.

“Ah, so that’s how you met! Did your mother describe her time in captivity – did she say what they did to her?”

“Not much. She’d blanked a lot out – but we’re talking ritual abuse.” He paused while he cleared his mind. “I’ve blinded myself with drugs all these years just like Ruby. You’re right though, they’re still committing rape and murder. They destroy people’s lives and they’re doing something else too – that woman, the one I just told you about – well she’s at the heart of it. I could tell you the full story about if you like, although you probably won’t believe it coming from someone like me.”

“I’m keeping an open mind, Jes. Whatever I need to know…”

Jes eyed him steadily as if weighing up the consequences. Eventually he said, “Okay, I’m gonna trust you with this so you understand what you’re dealing with. It’s probably best you’re prepared for some pretty evil shit because once you get involved they’ll throw every low down, nasty trick in the book at you and more besides. They’ll mess with your head until you don’t know who the fuck you are anymore.”

“Okay.”

“Right. Well on that first day in Woodsend this woman appeared in the woods. I turned a corner on the path and there she was, just standing there as if she’d been waiting for me. I stopped dead and stared at her like I was hypnotised. She was stunning - with this cascade of shiny, raven hair; all glinting eyes and full red lips. The whole place seemed sort of freeze-framed, all the birds stopped singing and all I could see was her – smiling at me – reaching out for my hand. I wandered back through the trees with her in a dream-like state, and we came out at a cottage. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She had this see-through white top on with her shoulders wriggling out of it, and she kept touching herself - her neck, her hair, her body – while we sat in the garden drinking wine. Next thing I knew we were practically running upstairs to the bedroom. Her skin was warm and soft and tanned; my head was spinning and I was delirious, in a fever, for her. Anyway, I’d got my shirt off, pulling at her clothes, shoving myself into her and it felt like I was going to explode when…are you ready for this?”

“Um…”

“Well, I’m looking into her eyes while I’m you know… when suddenly they turn totally white – like not just the iris but the whole eye – no pupils – nothing. Just all white like they’d flipped round in her head! Next second she morphed into this cackling toothless troll with wild grey hair and wrinkled skin like an ancient hag’s. I threw her off and almost fell out of the house with this horrible, raucous laughter ringing in my ears, staggered onto the grass outside and turned back in disbelief. Like, you know, what the fuck was that? Well, I looked up and her window pane was solid black as if it had been painted out. I was, like, did she put something in the wine? What the fuck happened? And then it was like being hit with an overdose of smack - I was running away through the woods but my head was banging and I kept doubling up with stomach cramps. To be honest how I made it back to my digs I’ll never know – it was all in a kind of drugged-up blur - the ground kept rearing up and the air was static. I was lurching from tree to tree and there were giant spiders running up the trunks and bloody great bit pythons slithering across the path. Man, it was like the biggest psychedelic trip you could ever imagine…”

“So that was Ida?”

Jes nodded. “Exactly.”

“She isn’t Ruby’s real mother, you do know that?”

“Yeah, they’re all inbreeds but that old crone brought her up. What appals me though, and I mean really fucking appals me, is that the old devil himself must be my dad – the one who raped my mother.”

“Do you know for sure? He might not have been.”

“She was pregnant when she came back to the camp. That’s why they’d left her alone that night and she got the chance to escape. She was supposed to marry Nicu, but he wouldn’t touch her after that, so she spent the rest of her life alone and had no more children. That old bastard has to be my father. Which is another reason I won’t have children and nor should Ruby. I honestly think she’s in the best place now, you know. At least she’s being taken care of and helped.”

“Except she did have a child.”

“So you say. She never told me.”

“I really need to speak to Cora. Do you think she’ll talk?”

“That cowardly bitch looks after number one. Knew what was happening and just let it. Ruby said she’d take her shopping and give her a bath once in a while, but that was all. Cora could have helped her daughters and her granddaughters, yet she did nothing. Meanwhile she’s got dear uncle Rick living with her – a bad ass skank who kept a job at the mine until it closed. Now he spends his days in The Highwayman looking for prey. Any woman who drops in there for a quick drink on the way home is asking for trouble. As is anyone walking through the woods on a nice afternoon.”

“I need to speak to Cora when Rick’s out, then.”

“You’ll not get a word out of her. She’s mother to all three Deans. One of her daughters is now dead and the other is married to Derek. They’re all in the coven and she’ll not talk.”

“Not even for Alice’s sake?”

“Course not.”

“Jes. If I manage to break this apart, will you testify in court?”

“What do you know about black magic?”

“Um…nothing.”

“Thought not or you wouldn’t have asked.”

“One final question - if you’re the son of old Lucas Dean then how come you haven’t turned out like the other three Deans?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, just maybe – please God – I’m not his.”

Toby stuck out his hand. “Thanks for talking to me, mate. I’m going to blast this apart one way or the other.”

“I loved her, you know?” Jes said.

Toby nodded, then scribbled his mobile number onto a scrap of paper. “This is going to happen fast now so let’s keep in touch.”

***

Chapter Twenty-Three

Doncaster Royal Infirmary

Tuesday

When Becky walked back onto the ward she found Anna taking Callum’s pulse and she hurried over.

“Is everything alright?”

Anna began filling in his observation sheets. “He’s got a temperature again, and tachycardia.”

With a pang of alarm, she realised Callum’s breathing was rattling quite noisily, and although he was propped up against several pillows he seemed to be struggling for breath. “He’s very chesty all of a sudden,” she said, grabbing another pillow to put behind him.

“Yes. I’ll bleep the SHO,” Anna said, bustling over to the nurses’ station.

Becky grabbed a chair and took hold of his hand. His health had deteriorated rapidly in the short time she’d left his side. How could this have happened? He was on antibiotics too.

“It’s a chest infection, isn’t it?” she said to Anna when she returned a couple of minutes later.

“The doctor is on his way.”

“Yeah, I saw him in the canteen. Anna…”

The Sister regarded her with a deadpan expression and Becky, tired and worried, blurted out words she hadn’t intended, “You know I could do with some help here. Why aren’t you more concerned? Why isn’t he waking up? I don’t understand!”

That woman was all neat and clean, just doing her job, while her own world was falling apart. She looked down at her crumpled clothing and tears pricked her eyes.
How quickly our lives could unravel…

To her surprise, Anna whipped the curtains round them both and drew up a chair. “We don’t know why,” she whispered. “It’s very odd.”

Becky stared back. “Anna, you know I’m a nurse just like you – please tell me what you think is going on!”

Anna looked directly into her eyes. “I think trauma. His mind - it does not want to wake up yet. It is my belief he will be okay when the time is right.”

Becky nodded. “Really? I see, okay. Well yes, that would make sense.”

Anna seemed poised to say more but stopped when the SHO suddenly burst through the flowery curtains. His hair was raked up in a rooster shape and pens, notes, stethoscope and bleeper all seemed to be falling out of his pockets. “Sorry, sorry to keep you waiting…now, how are you, old boy?”

Anna stood up, efficiently relating the necessary information while he listened to Callum’s lungs. After a brief examination he said, “Yup. Let’s get a sputum sample and I’ll write up some IVs. Can we prop him up a bit more and get the physio over?”

Anna bustled away and he turned to Becky. “Are you staying with him again today?”

She shook her head. “I want to but I’ve been here pretty much ever since he was admitted and I’ve got to run a few errands. I’ll be back as soon as I can, though.”

“Okay, well he should pick up soon now we’re getting some different antibiotics in.”

“But why isn’t he waking up? Do you think it’s the trauma of what he’s been through?”

The doctor shrugged. “Honestly? We don’t know. Keep talking to him…there’s nothing physiologically wrong that we can identify so hopefully it won’t be long before he does.” 

“Right, well I’ll be back as soon as I can – later this afternoon.”

Before leaving, Becky had a word with Anna. “You will ring me if there is any further deterioration in his condition, won’t you? I won’t be long. I really do have to go out for a few hours. I don’t want to but there’s no choice.”

Anna nodded, permitting her face to relax into the tiniest reassuring smile. “Try not to worry, Becky. I will take good care of him.”

Becky nodded. “Thank you.” Frankly, there was so much that had to be done today she was going to have to trust the woman. And instinct told her she could.

Right, the to-do list as quickly as possible, then. First there were her belongings to collect from home: Mark was staying on and buying her out of the mortgage. He’d messaged to say he was going to change the locks later today and the deadline was lunchtime to collect her stuff. After that the finances would be left to solicitors. She could do without this right now, she really could, but it was best to get it done, and anyway, a person could only survive for so long with one overnight bag.

Once at the terrace she and Mark had once shared, Becky methodically packed her clothes, CDs, books and personal possessions. It filled just two suitcases. Two suitcases for fifteen years of marriage – was that really it? She clicked them shut and lugged them downstairs before, with one last sweeping glance, saying a silent goodbye into the dark hallway and closing the door behind her.

Half an hour later she was standing in Noel’s light and airy loft apartment in Leeds Docklands. It had been unbelievably kind of him to let her have the spare room for as long as she needed it. She wouldn’t push it, though – Noel was a lovely person but he was also an essentially private man and she would find a rented flat just as soon as she could. Whatever would she have done without him, she thought, dragging her suitcases into the spare room?

God, she was knackered! A tidal wave of fatigue washed over her and she sank onto the bed. Oh for just a couple of minutes couldn’t she rest? A ray of sunshine spread across the soft, white duvet and she flopped back. What harm would it do to just lie here for a few precious minutes? Every muscle ached, her whole body heavy, eyelids dropping…Then she’d ring Drummersgate and then Toby to find out if he’d tracked down Jes and then Celeste’s husband to see if he needed any help…. And anyway, it was just for a few minutes…

When she woke up again the light had gone and she was stiff with cold.

Oh no! Oh hell! What time was it
?

On the bedside cabinet where she’d left it several hours ago, her mobile lay silently. Puzzled, she grabbed it, realising with a stab of dismay that it was turned off. How odd! She switched it back on and listened to the long list of messages while frantically rushing around drawing curtains and switching on lights. The first was from Toby Harbour. Would she be free to go to Woodsend with him to doorstep Cora Dean tomorrow afternoon?

“Count me in!” she said into the messaging service. “I’ve just got to sort out some leave for the next few days. Where do we meet? Please call me back as soon as you can.”

The next was from Noel. She called back straight away but there was no answer and was just about to try again when he rang. Appalled, she listened to the description of Michael who, only a few weeks before had been her salvation. Yes, of course she would phone Nora as soon as possible. Tomorrow night wouldn’t be a moment too soon. She had important news for him too…

“Later,” said Noel. “Let’s sort this out first.”

Next she dialled the DRI. Anna had gone off duty now but the nurse in charge assured her Callum was responding to the new antibiotics and his temperature had come down.

“Oh thank God. Look I’ll be there in less than an hour. I’ve got a few important calls to make first; then I’ll have a quick shower and get a taxi – I won’t be long.”

Grabbing some clean clothes out of a suitcase she dived into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day. Good, at last there was progress.

***

Chapter Twenty-Four

Bridesmoor Village

Wednesday afternoon, 29th December 2015

Cora Dean peeked through the kitchen blinds at the couple walking up her driveway and scowled. Oh no! And just when she was in her dressing gown with a TV dinner in the microwave!

When the sharp rap echoed around her hallway she shouted crossly, “Hold on - I shan’t be a minute.”
Whoever could it be at this hour when it was going dark? Fancy having to go upstairs and get dressed again now; and the dinner spoiled.

After five full minutes she opened the door, making sure to keep them on the porch. “Yes?”

“Have we got the right address for Cora Dean?” said the woman. Pleasant enough face, early forties, needed her roots doing.

“Who wants ’er?”

“DCI Harbour,” said the young man, stepping forwards a little too presumptuously for her liking.

“What’s this about?”

“Cora, this is a friendly visit concerning a little girl who’s missing in the area,” said the woman. “Her mother’s in hospital and I’m her nurse. I said I’d try to find her daughter for her and I asked Detective Harbour here to help me.”

Cora narrowed her eyes. The man’s foot was partially in the open doorway and while she was being distracted by the woman’s nice talk, he was ready to push himself into the house.
This was about something else – something they weren’t saying yet
.

She thought quickly – Rick had only just left for the pub and wouldn’t be back ’til late; Paul and Ida would be at home at this time, as would Derek and Kath. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to find out what these people wanted? Information was power, after all. Reluctantly she stepped back and let them in. “Only for a few minutes, mind. I’ve got me tea on.”

She showed them into her front room and switched on a bar of the electric fire. “Now then, what’s this about? I doubt as I can ’elp you.”

The young man perched on the edge of a chair while the woman, who introduced herself as Becky, told her a story, which she could not have articulated more accurately herself. That her granddaughter, Ruby, was the issue of her own son and daughter she knew. That Ruby had been ritually abused she also knew, although she was careful not to react to or endorse the allegations. What
was
news though, was that Ruby had given birth to Alice. She’d thought the child was the result of yet another unfortunate dalliance of Paul’s with some tart from the village. Averting her gaze, she did a brief mental calculation …Ruby could have been no more than fourteen, then.

Nor did she know about Ruby’s mental health – only that she’d attacked Paul with a knife a couple of years ago and been ‘banged up’. The DID diagnosis, and how she’d used it to protect herself, was a revelation. And a shock. Did that mean she might recover memories and spill them out to those in authority?

Behind a mask of indifference Cora’s mind worked swiftly: if anyone believed the girl now that she was receiving expert medical treatment, they might come investigating and the family could be exposed. And when they knew their backs were against the wall, they would call on Ida to stop it. And Ida would know it was Cora who had stabbed them in the back. A familiar, old fear flickered inside her: she couldn’t go through that kind of madness and terror again, not ever.

“What a load of baloney your mad client’s told you,” she said. “You’ve no evidence for any of it. Now if you don’t mind…”

Becky raised an eyebrow. “Actually there’s quite a bit of evidence.”

“Ruby’s a certified lunatic – in the nick for attempted murder.”

“Is this your granddaughter you’re talking about? Not to mention another granddaughter, Bella – no doubt also a certified lunatic?”

“Ruby tried to kill my son and she’s been sectioned. That’s it.”

“Is it?” Becky listed all the incidents which formed the basis for circumstantial evidence, and then began to describe what Ruby went through on a daily basis – her hundreds of alter personalities, the drugs, the memories of ritual abuse that were so bad her own mind could not face up to them. And now Alice would be going through the same thing. She listed all the people who had died or become diseased, and how a lady doctor lay critically ill as they spoke – everyone in fact, who had come anywhere near this beleaguered village. On top of that she added a bluff – the photographs on the detective’s mobile phone – the detective who was already telling his story as he lay recovering in hospital.

Cora’s face registered no emotion; while the clock ticked solidly on the mantelpiece amid her miniature ornaments.

“I can’t help you.”

“You did the right thing once, remember?” said Toby. “You helped a young gypsy girl escape from your late husband’s satanic cult.”

Cora put a hand to her throat.
A weak link, a weak moment, she should have let her die.
“How did you…?”

“Never mind how I know. I’m giving you the chance to save Alice from a horrific fate and redeem yourself into the bargain. We will out this sect and I am sure you would rather be on the right side of the law, so I suggest you save us all a lot of time and tell us what you know. We have photographs, Cora, and we have a police officer’s testimony.”

She shook her head. Terror had knotted her stomach into a tight ball
. If she said a single word
…

“There’s nothing,” she said firmly. “Now if you don’t mind?” She went to stand by the door, her mind and mouth closed. As the couple passed she averted her gaze and silently let them out into an evening already glinting with frost.

With the door closed behind them, she walked back into the living room in a daze and sat down.
Think, think, think
…They had nothing. They were bluffing. And Alice would be fine. No one in this village would talk to those two do-gooders, anyway. This secret had been locked in for the best part of fifty years and would die with her boys: anyone who divulged even a fragment of gossip or innuendo regretted it for the rest of their life.

And yet Ruby had escaped and so had Rosella. Rosella – was she still alive and had she come back to point the finger? Surely not or the whole lot of those gypsies would suffer. They’d had warning enough last time. Ruby though – poor, dear damaged Ruby – did the darkness not attack her? Why was she able to talk to the medical staff? How the hell had she survived when no one else had?

And all those babies – never knowing whose they were or how Lucas acquired them – and Paul taking over so the whole nasty business carried on; the coven now protected by people in high places and something even more powerful than the lot of them put together – something that was so frightening she couldn’t face it again. Ever. She had
seen
Ida once –
really seen her.
The day after Rosella escaped from Tanners Dell, Ida had paid her a visit; and after that the creeping darkness had never left, appearing to know her every move. There was no way out of this…

Alice
! What about Alice, though? Was she Paul and Ruby’s like these people said? Her stomach curled with revulsion. Curse the day she’d ever met Lucas Dean.

Silent fury began to bubble and pop in her veins as she sat brooding, stone still, while the clock ticked on and on and on… Her whole life she’d kept her tongue…

Suddenly the blind rage she’d tamped down for the best part of fifty years erupted. Cora bolted upstairs so fast she almost tripped onto the landing, tore into the spare bedroom and flung back the doors to the girls’ old wardrobe. There, right at the back in a box of toys was a stuffed rabbit with grimy fur and knots of cotton where its eyes should be. With wildly trembling fingers she ripped open the carefully sewn up pocket at the back and pulled out a key, before flying downstairs and out into the night air.

The couple she’d ejected from her home just minutes before, were still parked up and she waved at them frantically as she ran down the drive, still in her slippers.

Becky buzzed down the window, her eyebrows somewhere in her hair line.

“This Friday, New Year’s Day, there’ll be a black mass,” she blurted out, handing them an intricately engraved key. “Underneath Tanners Dell Mill. They start at three in t’ morning – you might catch ’em at it if you’re clever and keep quiet. And you,” here she glared at Toby, “for God’s sake don’t tell Ernest Scutts or you won’t know what’s ’it you. Watch your backs. You don’t know what you’re dealing with – you really don’t.”

“Thank you,” said Becky, taking the key. “Anyone know you’ve got this?”

She shook her head, already backing up the drive. “I’ve had it forty-three years and he never found it, though he took a hammer to the place looking. There were two – ancient contraptions they are – but this is the one they haven’t got.”

She turned and ran back into the house, locking and bolting the door behind her. Maybe this one last act would save her soul? But before the darkness came for her, which it undoubtedly would, it might be best not to leave that to chance.

There was a drawer full of Tramadol, Dothiepin and Paracetamol upstairs, that she’d kept for just such an emergency. Hopefully God would forgive her.

***