Читать книгу The Warrior’s Princess - Barbara Erskine - Страница 15
ОглавлениеSomeone had mended the broken window. Dan stood on the terrace looking at the clean pane of glass glittering in the afternoon sun. There was a small smear of putty in one corner. He scratched at it thoughtfully with a fingernail then turned to stare out across the garden. A slow tour of the entire property made it clear that she had gone. There was no sign of the car and his careful scrutiny of the rooms through the windows showed the house tidy; empty. He could sense the emptiness all around him.
He retraced his steps grimly to the front door and felt in his pocket for the keys; the spare set of keys he had found hanging on the hook in the kitchen before he left to face the wrath of his wife.
‘For God’s sake, you might have told me you were going to be away all night!’ Natalie’s voice replayed in his head yet again and he frowned in irritation. ‘I was imagining all sorts of things. You might have been in an accident!’ Then she had paused. Her eyes had narrowed. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me you were book shopping again. But you weren’t, were you! You spent the night with her, didn’t you! You bastard! I might have known. You weren’t book shopping, you were shagging the English teacher!’
He had denied it of course, again and again and eventually, he thought, she had believed him. But he had to make sure Jess didn’t rock the boat. A bead of sweat appeared on his upper lip. He could not afford to wreck his marriage. Not now, not with his career poised to take off. Not ever.
Standing at the foot of the stairs he glanced up towards the landing. A stray beam of sunlight illuminated the ceiling, and spotlit the painting on the wall, an ink and wash scene of jumbled stones and yew trees not unlike the scene he could see from the window as he walked slowly upstairs.
The bedroom door was open. He walked across and stared in. She had left no personal belongings there. The cupboards and drawers were empty, the chest of drawers had no clutter to show where her combs and cosmetics had lain. He went over to the bed, neatly made with an immaculately smooth patchwork quilt and with a sudden rush of anger bent to tear off the covers. He fell to his knees and pressed his face into the sheets, inhaling the faint scent of her body, almost masked by the odour of whatever laundry rinse had been used in Steph’s washing machine. Digging his clawed fingers into the pillows he groaned. The silence of the room seemed to thicken as he knelt there and he shivered. And after a moment or two he looked up.
Where are you? Can we come out now?
The child’s voice was very faint.
He clenched his fists into the sheets.
Where are you?
‘No!’ His face a rictus of fear and anger, he staggered to his feet. Hurling the pillow across the room, he threw himself at the door and out onto the landing.
In the kitchen he paused, trying to calm himself. Imagination. That’s all. Stupid imagination. A reaction to Jess’s insane behaviour. For a moment he had felt as though some alien force had gripped him. An anger like nothing he had ever experienced. He walked over to the sink and bent over it, splashing some cold water onto his face. He had to get out of there. Fast. And get back to Shrewsbury before Natalie became suspicious again.
As he headed for the door his fingers brushed against the bunch of keys in his pocket and he drew them out. Jess had gone for good. That much was obvious. He was not going to need them again. Better to hang them back where they were on the hook. Leave no sign that he had been here. He walked over to the notice-board and stood staring at it. Someone had left a note there he hadn’t noticed before. KIM ‘S NUMBER, it said. Followed by a string of figures. Kim. He smiled grimly. Was that where Jess had gone? It was obvious when he thought about it. She thought she could run away from him. Hide. Tell her sister a pack of lies about him. She had forgotten he had known Kim almost as long as she had; that Kim had even fancied him once, long ago, when they were all at college together. He scowled and reaching for the phone put it to his ear. The dialling tone confirmed that it had been reconnected. Only one way to tell where Jess was now and how much she had told them. Slowly he began to punch in the numbers. If she could get an invitation to Rome, so perhaps could he. He looked down at the keys, still in his hand. Perhaps he would keep them after all. Who knew when he might need them again.
‘So, where do you suggest I start my research?’ Jess directed her question at Kim as the four of them sat down to eat that evening. She helped herself to a chunk of focaccia from the bread basket.
Kim shrugged. ‘How on earth would I know? Have you looked on the net? Libraries? Museums? Roman remains?’ She reached into the oven with her padded gloves and produced a bubbling dish of cheesy pasta. ‘We do all those in spades in Rome.’ She slid the dish onto the table and chucked the gloves onto the worktop behind her. ‘OK. Eat, bambini!’
‘Have you heard your ghostly voice since you’ve been here?’ Will asked thoughtfully.
Jess glanced at him suspiciously. ‘No. Or, only in a dream.’
‘So, she hasn’t followed you.’
Jess shook her head. ‘Ghosts don’t do that, do they? Aren’t they tied to specific places?’
They all shrugged.
‘We need an expert on ghosts,’ Steph said with a smile.
‘Carmella!’ Kim exclaimed. ‘She knows all about this sort of thing. We could have a séance. Ask your little girl what she would like you to do.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Jess shook her head. ‘Aren’t séances supposed to be dangerous?’
‘It might be fun,’ Will put in. He grinned. ‘You must have done table turning and stuff when you were students. “Is there anybody there?” sort of thing. We scared ourselves witless a few times if I remember.’
‘We don’t want to scare ourselves witless, Will,’ Steph retorted. She was watching Jess’s face. ‘This is serious. And rather tragic. And I suspect it could be dangerous, yes. The little girl who haunts my studio is not above breaking a few things from time to time.’
Jess dropped her fork. She stared at her sister, stunned. ‘So you do know more about her than you let on! It has happened to you! I thought I was going mad! She broke some figures in your studio and I blamed myself. I blamed a bird or a draught or something. Then she came into the house after me. She tore up my paintings and smashed a bottle of wine.’
‘You’re kidding!’ Kim stared at her. ‘No wonder you didn’t want to stay there on your own.’
‘I thought you said she didn’t frighten you,’ Steph put in quietly. ‘That all sounds a bit frightening to me.’
Jess shrugged. ‘It was frightening. I thought maybe someone else, I mean someone real, had come in and done it. It didn’t occur to me that it was her to start with.’
‘And someone real would be better than a ghost? Who on earth would do that?’ Steph stared at her, shocked. ‘Jess!’
Jess shrugged again. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight. But what was I supposed to believe? A burglar in the middle of nowhere? Or the resident ghost. Either way I was beginning to feel freaked out!’
She was aware of Will’s eyes fixed on her face. She stared down at her plate, refusing to meet his gaze.
Kim stood up. ‘Let’s ring Carmella!’
‘What? Now?’ Steph shook her head dismayed.
‘Why not? If she can summon your wayward child we can sort all this out and find out what is bugging her.’
‘I don’t know, Kim.’ Jess looked from her sister to Will for support. ‘This isn’t a game. She is unhappy. Angry. Lost.’
‘And we can help her. Find out what happened in Rome. Oh, come on! It will be fascinating.’ Kim picked up the phone.
Steph leaned back in her chair and shrugged her shoulders at Jess. ‘You are not going to stop her, I’m afraid.’
‘And I doubt if anything will happen,’ Will added. ‘I don’t see our Italian signora finding it easy to contact a two-thousand-year-old child from some weird British tribe!’
They fell silent as Kim’s voice rose behind them in a torrent of excited Italian.
‘Steph’s right, you’re not going to stop her now,’ Will said quietly, with a rueful smile at Jess. ‘I suspect we have to give in gracefully!’
The conversation on the phone had concluded with a fervent ‘Ciao, a presto!’ and Kim turned to them flushed with triumph. ‘She’ll be here in half an hour. Just time to finish supper. Eat up, bambini. It’s going to be a long night!’
* * *
‘First, I read the cards.’
They were seated round a low coffee table in Kim’s cosy sitting room, Steph and Will on the sofa, Jess and Kim on cushions, Carmella on a low chair at the head of the table. Behind her a cluster of candles flickered on the bookcase, otherwise there was no light in the room. The windows stood open onto the dark courtyard below with its gently trickling fountain. Theirs was the only one showing any light. Most of the occupants of the other apartments in the palazzo had left Rome for their summer residences in the hills or on the coast. Jess gave an involuntary shiver.
‘OK. I start.’ Carmella smiled at them. Her dark hair was tied back with a bright red scarf; the style emphasised her vivacious dark eyes.
This time she had her own deck of cards with her. She brought them out of her bag. They were wrapped in a length of black silk and reverently she unwound it and began a slow shuffling of the pack.
Carmella glanced up at Jess. ‘Do you have something belonging to this child?’ she asked.
Jess shook her head. ‘She lived nearly two thousand years ago!’
‘Ah.’ Carmella was seemingly unfazed. ‘No matter. Let me be silent for a few moments.’
She closed her eyes. The quiet of the room was broken by the faint sound of a police siren echoing from some distant street.
‘Va bene. Let’s start.’ Carmella reached down and setting the cards on the table, cut the pack. Will looked up and caught Jess’s eye. He gave a small grimace and she smiled. This wasn’t going to work, but if it amused the others, then she was content to watch. She firmly pushed away the worm of unease which was beginning to rise deep in her stomach and reached over for her glass of wine, sipping it quietly as she studied the layout of cards which Carmella was setting out on the table. The warm polished surface of the old wood reflected the candlelight steadily. No breath of wind strayed in through the window. The night was hot and very still.
‘OK. Now I start with the card of the child.’ Carmella reached seemingly at random and turned over one of the cards. ‘Il fante di bastoni. So here she is again.’
Jess caught her breath. None of them said anything.
Slowly and methodically Carmella turned over the remaining cards in the spread. The silence in the room grew heavy. Will and Steph exchanged glances as Carmella sat staring at the cards. She leaned forward, tapping the table with a scarlet fingernail. Then at last she looked up. ‘This young lady, she is in danger. Someone from her past is trying to find her. Hunting her down the centuries.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t understand. This is complicated. Molto pericoloso. I have never read such a spread before. And you want me to try to speak to her?’ She glanced doubtfully from Kim to Jess.
‘Did she grow up to be a woman?’ Jess whispered. ‘Or did she die as a child? Can you tell from the cards?’
Carmella stared back down at the pattern on the table before her. ‘She speaks from two worlds.’ She trailed her fingers across the centre of the spread. ‘She lived two thousand years ago, you said. So obviously she is in spirit now.’
‘Yes, but did she live to grow up?’ Jess leaned forward. ‘Can you see her family? She lost a brother and sister. Are they there?’
‘The cards speak of torment and fear. They speak of resolutions.’ Carmella tapped her finger again. ‘They speak of loss and of anger and sorrow. And they speak of love. At the end of her life, she found love, but for how long and with whom I cannot say.’ She frowned. ‘Perhaps it was at the moment of death.’ Shaking her head she swept all the cards into a heap and leaned away from the table. ‘I am not sure we should try and call her.’
‘What!’ Kim stared at her. ‘Of course we should. How else will Jess know what happened to her? Jess has been talking to this girl. So has Steph. They know her already. She has been communicating with them in Wales. What we want is for her to speak to us here in Rome. Can you do that?’
Carmella shrugged. She half-turned on her seat and reached for her glass from the bookshelf behind them and turning back to the centre, sipped thoughtfully. ‘To those in spirit all places and times are one. It does not matter where you are.’
‘Unless she is anchored to the house in Wales. Doesn’t that happen? A ghost hangs around in a spot where something special happened,’ Will put in. He raised an eyebrow.
Carmella caught the quizzical smile. ‘You do not believe. That does not matter. If she wants to speak, she will. Come.’ She put down her glass of wine and sat forward on the edge of the chair. ‘We hold hands like this.’ She spread her arms and reached for Kim’s hand. On the other side she beckoned Will to take her fingers. After a second’s hesitation he did so, then he in turn reached out to Jess.
They sat in silence for a full minute, then Carmella spoke. Her voice was low and husky. ‘Tell me her name again, this child from Wales.’
‘Eigon,’ Jess whispered.
Carmella nodded. ‘OK. Now, sit quietly. Close your eyes. I will call her.’
Jess held her breath. Beside her Will was sitting, eyes closed as instructed, a slight smile on his lips. His hand was warm and firm in hers. On her other side Steph’s palm was slightly damp. Jess opened one eye and peeped at her. Steph looked pale in the candlelight. Her face was composed; as still as marble.
‘Eigon. We wish to speak to you. Show yourself here before us and perhaps we can help you in your unhappiness.’ Carmella’s throaty Italian accent rang out in the shadows. ‘Eigon, I am asking you to appear before us here. Steph and Jess you know. You have asked their help before. Now we are here to try and answer your pleas.’
Carmella paused. The candles behind her guttered as a slight draught permeated the warm night air. There was someone else out there in the ether, listening, tuning in. She frowned. ‘Please come to us, Eigon. We are here for you.’ Her voice lifted as it grew stronger. She was no longer pleading. It was a command. ‘Come and tell us your story, Eigon from Wales!’
‘Wales didn’t exist then,’ Jess murmured. Her eyes were tightly closed.
Carmella shrugged. ‘So. Eigon, of the tribes, can you hear me? The cards speak of love and sorrow and fear. Tell us your story. We are listening.’
The distant sound of a siren, faraway towards the centre of the city only accentuated the silence of the room as the candles flickered again. One of the flames faded and with a slight hiss it went out. Jess’s mouth had gone dry. She was, she realised, clutching Will and Steph’s hands as tightly as she could.
‘Bene. She comes,’ Carmella breathed. Her eyes were closed, her face still. ‘Can you sense her in the room?’
The sudden jangle of the doorbell through the apartment jerked them out of the silence with frightening violence.
‘Dio!’ Carmella opened her eyes angrily. ‘That is so dangerous! What fool rings the doorbell at mezzanotte?’ She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘It is so late!’ They were all staring at each other, their link with one another broken.
Kim scrambled to her feet. She went to the door and flicked on the lights. ‘Oh God, I am so sorry. I don’t know who could be here so late. I’ll send them away, then we can go on.’
‘Too late! She is gone!’ Carmella reached for her glass and angrily downed the last of her wine. ‘The spell is broken. She will not come now.’
‘She will.’ Jess hadn’t moved. She was still staring down at the table, her eyes fixed on the discarded heap of cards. ‘I can feel her. She is still here.’
In the doorway Kim hesitated. ‘I’ll get rid of them, whoever they are. I am sure she will come back, Carmella. She wants to talk to Jess.’
The doorbell rang again. Kim disappeared into the hall. Will stood up and went over to the side table. He picked up the bottle of wine and brought it back to top up their glasses. ‘You really think she was about to appear?’ he asked softly.
Jess nodded. ‘I could feel her in the room.’
Carmella glanced at her over her glass. ‘Why do you need me? You can do this on your own. You ask. She comes.’
Jess bit her lip. ‘It can’t be that easy.’
‘Why not? The dead are always with us. Did not one of your English poets say that? You are an English teacher, you should know.’
‘The past. The past is always with us,’ Jess said. She smiled. ‘LP Hartley.’
‘Is that not the same?’
‘No. Not really.’
‘All right. Then what about, Il n’y a pas de morts. That was Maeterlinck, I think.’
Jess smiled. ‘“There are no dead”. That sounds a bit more like it. Did you see her, Carmella?’
Carmella shook her head. ‘I could sense her. Hovering. In the shadows.’
‘Does she really want to make contact –’ Jess broke off as Kim appeared in the doorway.
‘Guess who’s here! It makes our old teachers’ reunion complete!’ Kim stepped aside.
Dan was standing in the doorway.
Jess felt a lurch of blind fear as he smiled round at them. ‘I gather Kim forgot to tell you I rang. What a surprise to find you were all out here!’ He was carrying a smart leather haversack. Dropping it in the doorway he walked into the room. ‘Jess! How are you?’ Before she could move he stooped and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Steph. Will. A reunion indeed! And this must be – ?’ He paused with a small bow in front of Carmella. She was staring at him, a small frown on her face.
‘My friend, Carmella Bianchi,’ Kim said. ‘I am sorry. I didn’t expect you quite so soon, Dan.’ She glanced at Jess apologetically. ‘We were having a séance. But I am sure we can stop for a bit to offer you some food after your journey.’
‘No need,’ Dan shook his head. ‘I ate something on the plane. Please don’t stop because of me. I’d hate to interrupt. And this sounds exciting.’ He sat down on the sofa arm, between Jess and Steph. ‘Go on, please.’
‘No!’ Carmella stood up. ‘No, the time is not right now. We will do it another day. The energies have changed. The child has gone.’
‘The child?’ Dan raised an eyebrow. ‘Let me guess. The child from Ty Bran?’
‘You’ve seen her?’ Carmella stared at him.
‘Indeed. When I was staying with Jess.’ Dan looked at Jess and smiled. His brown eyes were bright with malice; their colour seemed to have changed subtly. Now they seemed amber in the flickering candlelight. ‘Didn’t she tell you I was up there?’ He reached across and rested his hand lightly on her arm.
‘Yes,’ Jess said coldly. ‘I mentioned it.’ She was aware of Steph and Will watching her. Standing up she moved away from the table. ‘If Carmella is going, I think I might go to bed. I am very tired.’ She paused and glanced back at Carmella. ‘Can we try again some time?’
‘You do not need me,’ Carmella said softly. She went over to Jess and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Dorma bene, Jess. Stammi bene, OK.’ She glanced over Jess’s shoulder towards Dan. ‘The cards I read for you,’ she whispered. ‘Before. I saw him. Do not be alone, eh?’
Jess stared at her.
Carmella shrugged her shoulders and bent to pick up her bag off the floor. Gathering her cards and wrapping them in their silk scarf, she pushed them into a pocket in the bag and zipped it up. ‘Ciao! See you soon!’
Kim frowned as the door closed behind her. ‘I am sorry, Jess. That was so close! It was just getting exciting!’
‘Did I mess things up?’ Dan was contrite. ‘I should have rung from the airport, I managed to get a flight sooner than I expected, but I wanted to surprise you all.’ His glance brushed across Jess and went back to their hostess. ‘I come bearing gifts, Kim. Does that make it better? Outside, in my case. Whisky. Shortbread. Pretty things.’
‘So, where is Natalie?’ Jess’s question cut across the room.
He stopped in his tracks. ‘In Shrewsbury with the children.’ His voice was cold. ‘We agreed that Rome in summer was not the ideal place for kids. Not when they have the chance to spend fun time with the grandparents.’
‘And what was it that you had to do so urgently in Rome?’ Jess asked harshly. Will and Steph were eyeing her speculatively.
He smiled. ‘Don’t you remember, Jess? I thought I told you exactly what I need to do. I told Nat I’ve come to attend an educational conference.’
‘I didn’t know there was one.’ She managed to keep her voice steady as she walked towards the door. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Jess,’ Will replied softly.
She flashed him a smile. For a moment she had forgotten he was there.
In the hall she stood for a second trying to gather her thoughts. Behind her she heard a burst of laughter from inside the room. What in God’s name was she going to do now?
Pulling her bedroom door closed after her, she discovered a huge ornate key in the lock. It turned easily and she paused with it in her hand, trying to calm herself. She was safe for now. Never in a million years could he break down this huge heavy door. What was he going to do here anyway with three other people in the apartment?
Walking over to the window she pulled open the casements and stood looking out. The other three sides of the palazzo were all in darkness. The central courtyard below, with its formal pots and statues and its fountain were invisible. Only the sound of the water floated through the night on the hot city air. Leaving the windows open, she turned towards her bed.
A figure was standing about ten feet from her on the faded Aubusson carpet.
‘Eigon?’ she whispered. Her whole body went cold.
There was no mistaking her. The child was small, delicate, her wild dark hair tied into a bundle at the nape of her neck. She was wearing some sort of pale long tunic. There were silver bangles at her wrists. Jess stared at her. ‘You came. You heard Carmella –’ But the figure was fading before her eyes. She could see the carpet through the fine gauze of the dress, then the bed. Then she had gone.
‘Eigon?’ Jess called sharply. ‘Wait! I want to help you!’
She sat down on the low velvet chair beside the window and suddenly she was shaking. She had seen the child; made eye contact. Eigon had come to find her.
Jess eyed the door. She wanted Steph. She needed to talk to Steph, but to do that she would have to unlock the door.
Getting up she tiptoed across to it and put her ear to the heavy panelling. What the fuck was Dan doing, following her here? A wave of anger shot through her fear. Did he intend to try and intimidate her into silence? Or did he still intend to kill her?
She paced away from the door, shaking her head. That was idiotic. Of course he didn’t. He never had. That was sheer melodramatic nonsense. He had managed to scare her and she had overreacted. All she had to do was reassure him that she wasn’t going to tell anyone what he had done. After all, she wasn’t. Was she? She shivered suddenly. A cold breeze strayed in through the windows, stirring the heavy curtains.
There was a creak on the landing on the far side of the door. She froze. There was someone out there. Pressing her ear closer to the wood she listened intently. Silence. She sensed someone had paused outside the door. ‘Dan?’ She mouthed the word soundlessly. Slowly the handle began to turn. The door creaked slightly as it was pushed from the outside. The lock held firm and she heard a quiet chuckle. A man’s voice. Dan or Will? Did she even need to ask?
She hurried to the window and looked out. As she had thought, there was no way up to her room that way. The wall was high and there were no creepers or drainpipes on the outside. The lower part of the casement had an ornate wrought iron grille across it, more of a container for pots than a protection. There was no way anyone could get in from there. And no way of escape either.
