The Macbeth Prophecy (23 page)

“Jem says as she's started brewing her potions again.” Nan continued when the noise had subsided. “Won't say what they are. neither, but they're not her usual mix. so tell t'lads not to drink owt she gives 'em.”

“Nay. she durstn't harm 'em. Rants away at 'em. alius has done, but she kens Dr Selby has his eye on her.”

“Happen you're right, but she's up to summat and no good will come of it. mark my words.”

A clatter of feet on the steps heralded the return of Cora and Bobbie.

“Twins weren't at school again.” Cora remarked, helping herself to a hunk of bread. “Teacher was cross.”

“And what can I do about it? Takes me all me time feeding and clothing the five of you. wi'out worriting what you're up to every minute of the day.”

“Janetta's feared for t'babbies.” Nan said, returning to her original theme. “Yon pesky bird flew at little Rose yesterday and between 'em they set up a terrible racket.” She stood up and stretched. “Eh well. I've worries enough of me own wi' Benjie.” She glanced out of the dirty window, then back at Nell. “Luke's coming.” she said briefly.

“Oh drat! If he's been drinking. I know what he'll be after.”

“I'm going, anyroad. Mind you watch out for t'owd woman.” She nodded to Luke, whose towering strength seemed to fill the caravan.

He stared after her. “What were that about t'owd woman?”

“She's at her muttering again.”

“Nowt new i' that. Out!” he added to Cora and Bobbie. “Your mam and me have things to do.”

“Oh Luke!” Nell whined, “I'm just getting tea!”

He jerked his head again and the children sullenly slouched down the steps, leaving the baby playing unconcernedly in the middle of the floor.

“What's me Mam and Dad doing in there?” Cora asked curiously as she and Bobbie squatted on the grass outside.

“Making more babies,” he replied, whittling at a stick.

“But what do they want more babbies for? Mam cried when Sarah came.”

He didn't answer and after a moment Cora said tentatively, “Where do twins go every day?”

“Dunno.”

“I'm right glad I've got you, our Bobbie. Davy and Kim aren't like brothers at all.”

Bobbie lifted his head suddenly, like an animal scenting the breeze. “Someone's coming,” he announced. “Happen it'll be Miss Peachey.”

Cora turned in time to see Madeleine emerge from the trees and they both sat watching with coal-black eyes as she came towards them.

“Hello, children. Are your Mum and Dad here?”

“Aye, but you can't go in,” Cora piped. “They're –”

Bobbie dug her with his bony elbow. “If it's about twins, Miss,” he volunteered, “Mam don't know any more than us. They go off when we leave for school and come back after us.”

“But they
must
come to school, Bobbie. It's not only I who say so, it's the education authorities. Your parents will get into trouble.”

He shrugged. “Twins is different,” he said, adding slyly, “Ask Mr Selby!”

Madeleine bit her lip. “I'll wait a little while and speak to your parents. They'll have to be warned about the position.”

The caravan door swung open and Luke Smith came down the steps buckling his belt. Madeleine regarded him with interest. She'd never seen him at close quarters but there were plenty of tales about him. “Better be good or Luke Smith'll get you!” Crowthorpe mothers told their children, and once she'd heard her precocious cousin retort under her breath, “Happen I'd not mind, at that!” He was dirty, uncouth, no doubt illiterate, but beneath it all she could sense a basic animal attraction. His eyes moved over her and she lifted her head to withstand the scrutiny.

“Is yon school miss, Cora?” Then, directly to her, “What do you want wi' us?”

“Davy and Kim haven't been to school for two weeks, Mr Smith. Cora says they're not ill so I wondered if there was some other reason for their absence.”

He scowled. “Never fear, Miss, I'll give them a hiding when they get back and they'll be there tomorrow.”

She said quickly, “I don't think there's any need –”

“I'll be judge of that.”

She hesitated but his steady gaze disconcerted her.

“Yes, of course. Thank you. Good afternoon, then.” She started to walk away from them and had covered several yards before she realized she was heading for the screen of trees rather than the more direct route back to the village. However, Luke Smith was still staring after her and she had no intention of retracing her steps.

Once out of his sight, her footsteps slackened. This route would take her past the stone circle and she hadn't been up there since the murder. As far as she could see there was no-one about, and despite herself her heartbeat quickened. As if the murderer would still be hanging round there! she chided herself; but as she came level with the stones she couldn't prevent a quick glance in their direction, and her eyes widened in sudden horror, for between two of them sprawled the body of a man. She came to a halt, the blood hammering in her ears. Oh God, not again! Panic beat at her. Should she run for help or see first if he was still alive? The attacker might be concealed behind the stones.

With dry mouth and racing heart she started moving towards them and as the figure came more fully into view, horror suddenly became more personalized. Jason? It was Jason!

Caution forgotten, she sped over the grass and dropped to her knees by the motionless form. He was lying on his back, his head turned to one side, and a sluggish stream of blood, dark and ugly, had caked on the bright hair. She slid her hand under his sweater, feeling for his heart. It was beating fairly strongly and the intensity of her relief left her trembling.

“Jason?” she said softly. “Jason – are you all right?” Ridiculous question in the circumstances. She laid a hand on his brow and after a moment his eyelids flickered.

“Madeleine? What the hell – ?” He tried to raise himself and winced, one hand going to his head. It came away sticky with blood and he stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“Can you sit up if I help you?”

Between them they managed to achieve a sitting position.

“How do you feel?”

“Decidedly groggy. What happened?”

“I don't know, I just found you lying here.”

“My head hurts like hell.”

“We'd better get you to a doctor. It's quite a way to the village, though.”

“I'll manage, but I wish I could remember what happened.”

Infinitely slowly and laboriously they made their way down the hillside.

“We'll go straight to the surgery,” Madeleine said encouragingly. “It won't have started yet, but Dr Sampson'll be there.”

“Not Philip Selby?” Jason asked through clenched teeth. The wound had opened up again and they had to keep stopping to staunch the blood with his handkerchief.

“Wednesday's his free day,” she said briefly.

“Just as well. He might have finished me off.”

She looked at him quickly. “I don't know what you mean by that. Philip's a wonderful doctor, everyone says so.”

“Joke,” said Jason succinctly as they turned into Caldbeck Rise.

“Looks as though you must have fallen against a sharp piece of stone,” the doctor commented some minutes later. “There are minute chippings and dust in your hair.”

“I'd hardly have slipped with sufficient force to knock myself out.”

“It's possible to fall surprisingly heavily. Fortunately your hair was thick enough to prevent any serious damage. Take things easily for a day or so and you'll be as right as rain.”

Madeleine was sitting anxiously in the waiting-room. “All right?”

“Marvellous!”

“Would you like me to ring for a taxi?”

“Having managed to get this far I think I should make it home.”

At the front door of the cottage Madeleine hesitated. “Will you be all right now?”

“Could you make a cup of tea before you go? I'd prefer a stiff drink but since I've enough of a headache as it is, it probably wouldn't be wise. You'll join me, won't you?”

“It will have to be a quick one, I mustn't be long. I've quite a few compositions to read through.”

“Not going out with the Selbys tonight?”

“If you're going to cross-examine me, you can make your own tea!”

He smiled and lowered himself gingerly into a chair. Madeleine put the kettle on and came back to stand in the doorway. “Have you remembered what happened?”

“I'm beginning to think I must have blacked out, though I never have before.” The words brought unwelcome memories of Ted's experience and he hastily dismissed the connection. Yet vague sensations were beginning to come back and they were not reassuring. When he'd reached the Circle, he'd been aware of what could only be described as a feeling of animosity – which was patently absurd.

Obviously he must have been ill even then, without realizing it. All kinds of thoughts had started chasing through his head, needling, prodding, harassing – a veritable psychic bombardment. He had put out a hand to steady himself against one of the stones, and – yes, that was it! As he rested his palm on the rough surface he was suddenly hurled backwards with incredible force, for all the world as though he'd received a high-voltage shock. The next thing he remembered was Madeleine bending over him. It looked as though the doctor had been right after all.

She was watching his face. “Something's coming back, isn't it?”

“I think I must still be suffering from concussion.”

She turned away as the kettle came to the boil, but as she brought through the tray she said, “Tell me.”

“Have you ever heard any suggestion that there might be some kind of current in the stones?”

She looked at him quickly. “Yes, a lot of megalithic monuments have it. It's stronger at certain times of the year, I believe.”

“Well it was certainly strong today.”

“The
stones
knocked you out?”

“It seems so. I touched one and was flung violently backwards, presumably knocking my head on the corner of another.”

“Matthew said once that it's possible to store power in the stones. I don't know what he meant.” She frowned, connecting the idea for the first time with his later remarks.

“How close are you to the Selbys, Madeleine? No, don't fly off the handle again. I'm not being offensive, or at least I'm trying not to be, but I'm becoming increasingly interested in this twin syndrome and the more I see of it the less I like it.” He met her eyes. “You told me yesterday to discount the – circumstantial evidence.”

Her eyes fell. “Yes.”

“So? How close are you?”

She said quietly, “Matthew's been in love with me for the last three years.”

“And you?”

She shook her head.

“So it was Matthew the other evening?”

“No. That was part of the trouble.”

He let that pass. “Have you ever noticed anything out of the ordinary about them?”

She spread her hands helplessly. “I feel so disloyal, discussing them like this.”

“It's not just idle curiosity, I promise. Have they ever done anything to alarm you?”

“Not really. I was frightened one time, but there was a simple explanation. It was just a phobia.”

“What happened?”

“Matthew and I were having a picnic and a crow came down to eat some ham we threw out. He was – terrified.”

Jason stopped with his cup half way to his mouth. “What did he do?”

“Put his arms over his head and screamed.”

“It must have been distressing for you, but phobias about birds are quite common.”

“That's what was so strange, though. He's fine with most birds, it's only crows that petrify him. He said Philip's the same.”

“Is he really?” Jason's voice was so soft she could hardly hear him.

She stood up. “I must go or I'll never get my work done. I'll bring your supper later.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “I haven't thanked you yet for coming to the rescue. It must have been quite a temptation to leave me lying there!”

“Not really.” She went quickly from the room. There was a queer little ache inside her that she didn't want to analyze, but she knew his smile had caused it. It was the first genuine one he had given her, completely different from his usual sardonic mockery, and the effect it had had was as unexpected as it was unwelcome.

To his annoyance, the after-effects of Jason's accident lasted several days and he had to postpone his plans for seeking out in turn each individual set of twins. However his incapacity did serve its purpose, for on the Friday morning Douglas Braithwaite called to see him.

“I was so sorry to hear of your mishap. You tripped and fell, I believe?”

“No,” Jason returned deliberately, “I was pushed!” And at the other man's startled surprise, he added flatly, “By one of the stones.”

“Mr Quinn, you're the last person from whom I'd expect to hear a statement like that!”

“I'm not suggesting the megalith upped and hit me, Vicar, but there's a scientific basis, surely, for accepting that a force exists in some of these stones.”

“And it was the shock that flung you backwards?”

“Precisely.”

“Mr Quinn, you asked me before for help and I wasn't completely honest with you.”

“Because of your wife?”

Douglas Braithwaite let his breath out in a sigh. “Exactly. I've been bending over backwards to protect her and closing my mind to a great deal I should have looked into long before this. Now I'm convinced the only way to help her is to come out into the open. What do you want to know?”

“Why there are so many twins in Crowthorpe and whether their presence can possibly have some connection with the Gemelly Circle.” He stressed its name slightly, and the vicar smiled.