Читать книгу The Warrior’s Princess - Barbara Erskine - Страница 10

5

‘Hi Steph, how are you?’

Steph answered her mobile as she walked out of the palazzo next morning on her way to buy some food for Kim’s dinner party that evening. Kim was already entrenched in the kitchen, and last-minute guests had meant last-minute supplies.

‘Who is that?’ Pausing, Steph turned, pulling her dark glasses down over her eyes. The heat was like a furnace, reflecting off the pavements of the piazza, the traffic roaring noisily round the corner past her. Behind her the palazzo was a classic elegant Renaissance building, the faded terracotta façade peeling now and in places cracked and crumbling, the formal, perfectly symmetrical windows topped by swags and curls of exquisite stone carving. At the centre the huge old door was studded and barred in iron, a small pass door almost invisible in the ancient wood. Kim’s husband, Stefano, had been born and brought up in the huge high-ceilinged shabby apartment in this ancient palazzo, an apartment bought by his father specifically so his family could be a part of this Bohemian artistic quarter of the city.

Turning to face it she stared up at the walls as the voice spoke in her ear. ‘It’s Will, Steph. Please, don’t hang up. I need to talk to you.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’ She began walking again, her hand tightening on the phone as she turned into a narrow alleyway. It was quieter here and she could hear him more easily.

‘I’ve been trying to contact Jess. You know she’s left school? She resigned without giving anyone a reason. She’s not answering her mobile and I’m pretty sure she’s not at the flat any more. I’m worried about her.’

‘What makes you think I would know where she was?’ Steph turned into the Via dei Capellari. She was heading towards the market in the Campo de’ Fiori.

‘That’s a stupid question. Of course you’d know. You two always tell each other everything. Is she there with you?’

‘No, she isn’t. I’m in Rome, Will. I don’t know where she is.’ She stopped again, staring sightlessly into the window of a small picture framer. It was cooler in the shade of this long narrow street. Near her two men had brought their chairs outside, slotting them between two huge terracotta pots of camellias. They were sipping iced beer, drops of condensation running down between their fingers and dripping onto their T-shirts. ‘Dan said he thought she might have come to stay with you.’ Will sighed. ‘Oh well. Do you at least know why she resigned?’

‘No.’ Steph began to walk on slowly. She had always liked Will, been sad when he and Jess split up, but if Jess was not telling anyone where she was, there had to be a reason. ‘Will, there’s no point in asking me. If Jess wants you to know where she is, she would tell you. I haven’t seen her for ages.’ That at least was true. ‘I’m here for the summer, so I don’t expect to either.’

There was a long silence. ‘Do you think she’s gone to stay with your mother in France?’ He sounded crestfallen.

Steph shrugged. She wasn’t sure if Jess had told Aurelia where she was; and she wasn’t sure her mother would keep it a secret if she had. Aurelia too had been one of Will’s greatest fans. ‘Will, are you there? I don’t think she’s in France,’ she said firmly. ‘Mummy would have said. I spoke to her only a day or so ago and she was just leaving for a trip to India.’ She crossed her fingers. Another lie, but only a small one. Aurelia had in fact just returned. As she tucked her mobile back into her bag she frowned. Why was Jess being so secretive? Something was going on. She would ring her tonight and find out exactly what it was

Dan phoned Ty Bran as Jess was eating a bowl of cereal. ‘I’m in Hay. I wondered if you would like to drive over and join me for lunch.’

She rescued the slice of toast that had leaped from the toaster, juggling it with her bowl of muesli. The door was wide open and the blackbird had forgiven her enough for her nocturnal intrusion on its sleeping place to sit on the top of the studio roof, singing gloriously into the sunshine. Her depression had gone; the peace of this place was working its magic at last. After the noise and dirt of London it was balm to her soul.

‘You’re in Hay?’ She frowned. ‘What are you doing there?’

‘Shopping for books. What else?’

‘But you never told me you were coming over this side of the country.’

‘Didn’t I?’ He laughed.

‘No, you didn’t. Are Natalie and the kids with you?’

‘Not this time. Bookshops bore them, sadly. I’m on my way to join them in Shropshire in a couple of days. They’ve gone up to stay with Nat’s parents. Oh come on, Jess. It wouldn’t take you much more than an hour to get here.’

Jess glanced over her shoulder at the open door. She was, she realised, already surprisingly reluctant to leave this peaceful place in spite of its uneasy echoes. On the other hand she needed to do some shopping and perhaps a change of scene would do no harm.

They met in the bar at The Kilvert at twelve thirty. There were no outside tables left by the time she got there so they settled for a table inside by the window.

‘So, are you feeling better about things now?’ He put a glass of wine down in front of her, sat down across the table and studied her face for a moment. ‘You look tired.’

She grimaced. ‘I’ve been having some rather spectacular nightmares.’ It was a relief to have someone to confide in but she hadn’t intended to come out with it quite so bluntly or so soon.

‘What about?’ He looked away and took a gulp from his pint.

‘A little girl.’ She paused, wondering if she should go into any detail. ‘Two little girls. Steph’s house seems to be haunted by them.’ She glanced up to gauge his reaction.

‘Haunted? Really?’ He was looking down into his glass. He seemed amused. He pushed the bar menu across the table towards her, still without meeting her gaze. ‘Would you like to choose something? So, what form does this haunting take?’

She shrugged. ‘As I said, nightmares and I think I may have seen them.’

‘Wow.’ He was still looking at the menu. ‘Has Steph seen them too?’

‘She says she suspected there was a ghost.’

‘And so what happens in your nightmare?’ His brown eyes were twinkling as he finally looked up at her.

‘One of them is raped.’

She saw the shock on his face as he put down the menu and turned to stare out of the doorway where the sunlight was beating down on the umbrellas over the crowded tables around the front door. ‘Raped?’ he echoed.

She nodded. ‘By Roman soldiers.’

‘That must be a scary dream.’ He still wasn’t looking at her.

‘It was.’ Suddenly she was regretting telling him.

There was a long silence. They both went back to perusing the menu. Abruptly Dan stood up. ‘I’d better order. Have you decided yet?’

When he returned to the table he had brought her another glass of wine. ‘Has Will been in touch?’

‘He’s phoned my mobile a few times.’

‘And?’

‘And nothing.’

There was a pause. When she didn’t elaborate he went on. ‘And Ashley? Has he phoned you too?’

She sighed. ‘Ash broke into my flat just before I left. He brought me some flowers to say thanks for teaching him.’

‘Broke in?’ Dan echoed. ‘What do you mean, broke in?’

‘I found the flowers on my coffee table. I suppose I could have left the door open but I don’t think so.’

‘You weren’t there?’

‘No.’

‘And he’d gone when you came back?’

She nodded. ‘I was only gone about ten minutes, Dan. He must have been watching for me. It scared me.’

‘But you’re safe now.’

She nodded. ‘Do you know what he is going to do this summer while he’s waiting for his results?’

He shook his head. ‘He’s convinced they will be good. He’s a cocky lad, our Ash. He thinks the drama schools will be queuing up for him.’

‘And he doesn’t even need A levels to apply for those.’

‘No.’

They both glanced up as their food arrived. ‘It would be a shame to spoil his chances. It would destroy them if he ended up with a prison record,’ Dan said quietly as he picked up his knife and fork. He looked up at her at last. ‘Don’t think about him, Jess. Or Will, for that matter. Forget about them. Enjoy your summer.’ He took a mouthful of food. ‘So, what are you planning to get up to in that old farmhouse of Steph’s?’

‘I’m painting.’ Jess was looking down at her plate.

‘On your own?’

She nodded.

‘And you’re happy with that?’

‘I’m fine with that, Dan. I like being on my own.’

‘With a ghost?’

She gave an uncomfortable smile. ‘They are not frightening ghosts. Just little girls.’

There was a pause as he picked up a bread roll and tore it into pieces. ‘I’ve had an idea, Jess. Feel free to say no, but I was going to find a B and B tonight and then go on up to Shrewsbury tomorrow. Why don’t I come back with you? It’s on my way. I passed a super-looking deli as I came here just now. We could pick up something there for supper. We could comb one or two more bookshops to feed my addiction this afternoon, then you can lead the way back to Ty Bran and introduce me to your spectral children. What do you think? There must be plenty of room.’

‘I don’t know, Dan –’

It was tempting. Much as she enjoyed her own company the thought of the dark track towards the woods once the sun had gone down, the empty rooms, the strange noises in the studio were intimidating. Besides it would seem churlish to refuse him.

It was just after six thirty when she turned into the courtyard at Ty Bran and pulled up by the studio. Dan drew in beside her and switched off his engine.

For a moment he remained still. ‘Steph was so lucky to find this place! Did you say it’s near where your mother used to live?’ He climbed out and stood looking round. ‘My God, it’s isolated, but it is so pretty.’

‘Isn’t it.’ Jess turned back to the car to haul out her purchases. Bread, cold meat, paté, cheeses and salad and an early edition of Omar Khayyám illustrated with Edmund Dulac’s magical colour plates. She went to open the door of the house as Dan unpacked his own trophies: several books, four bottles of wine, a four-pack of lager, some scrumpy and a box of very expensive chocolates. He followed her into the kitchen and dropped the heavy box of drinks onto the table with a groan.

‘There, we can see what mood takes us – or drink the lot and fall totally blotto to the floor. Oh, wow, Jess. This is so lovely.’ He wandered through the open door to the dining room and stood staring out across the garden towards the hedge and the view to the north. Then he turned and glanced down at her sketchbooks, laid out on the table. ‘Are these yours? I had no idea you were so good!’ He turned several of the pages.

‘Flattery will get you nowhere beyond the right to work the corkscrew,’ she called through the door from the hall. ‘Here. Let’s open the wine.’

She went back into the kitchen in front of him and stopped dead. The contents of her basket and two of the bottles of wine lay on the floor. The bottles had broken.

They both stood for a moment looking down at the mess.

‘Oh, Dan, no!’ she cried. ‘How did that happen?’

Dan glanced round. ‘I can’t think. I put the box on the middle of the table. They couldn’t have just fallen out. Bugger! You haven’t got a cat here, have you, by any chance?’

She shook her head. ‘Since when have cats been able to pick up bottles?’

He shrugged. ‘In which case, it wasn’t the cat! Not to worry. There are two bottles left and at least the food was wrapped up. Not too much harm done. You wait there, I’ll clear it up.’

‘No. No, I’ll do it.’ She went to the sink and fumbled under it for the brush and pan and some dishcloths. ‘What happened, Dan? I don’t understand.’ She was suddenly feeling panicky. ‘It was all there. On the table. It wasn’t on the edge or anything. Oh God!’ She was looking round in sudden panic. ‘Is there someone else here?’

‘No, there’s no one here. It’s just one of those things. Wait.’ He grabbed an intact bottle of wine and reached for the corkscrew which she had left lying on the draining board. ‘Let’s have a glass each first. Then we’ll clear up. Then we’ll be ready for something to eat. Don’t worry about it, Jess. No harm done.’

They had finished their meal and were strolling on the back lawn later, carrying their mugs of coffee when Jess heard the sound of a car engine from the courtyard. ‘Who on earth is that?’ She turned back towards the house.

Getting no reply when he knocked at the open front door, Rhodri had wandered straight in and seeing them from the window came out. He seemed taken aback to see her with Dan.

‘I’m sorry to intrude. My mother hasn’t given me a moment’s peace since she heard you were here on your own. She told me to bring you some food from the freezer.’ He was carrying a basket. ‘If I’d known you were with someone I wouldn’t have bothered you.’ There was irritation in his voice.

Jess made the introductions reluctantly. His arrival had spoiled the mood of the evening. ‘It’s very kind of your mother, Rhodri. Will you thank her.’ She took the basket from him firmly. ‘Would you like a glass of wine?’

Somewhat to her surprise he nodded. As Dan went to fetch a glass she smiled at him coldly. ‘Are these homemade things from Megan?’ she said politely. ‘That is so nice of her –’ She broke off as a crash sounded from the kitchen.

Dan appeared in the doorway, his hand wrapped in a tea towel. ‘Sorry, folks. The glass slipped. We seem to be having a bad time, don’t we!’ He handed Rhodri his drink and strolled over towards the hedge, his hand still wrapped in the towel. The others followed him. ‘Look at that view,’ he said at last. ‘It’s sensational, isn’t it.’ Beyond the hedge the ground dropped away towards the valley bottom. The sun was beginning to set now in a pearly haze which rimmed the northern hills with gold.

‘It’ll rain tomorrow.’ Rhodri was staring across the hedge. ‘You’re a painter, Mum tells me.’ He glanced down at Jess.

‘Only an amateur.’ She couldn’t keep the frostiness out of her voice. He sounded patronising and bored and even the fact that he was a head taller than her and therefore was looking down on her irritated her hugely.

‘But a damn good one,’ Dan put in amiably. ‘This place is inspirational, isn’t it. I reckon if I lived here I would finally write my novel.’

‘What novel?’ Jess said, amused. ‘Is that before or after you get your headship?’

He grinned. ‘After, probably. But before I get to be Minister of Education!’

Rhodri gave a snort of laughter. ‘Well, my friend, while you plan out your future I regret I shall have to leave you. Thank you for the drink, Jess.’

He turned and headed back towards the house. In the doorway he paused. ‘Are you sure it was only a wine glass you broke?’ he called back over his shoulder.

The floor of the dining room was covered in glass. The three of them stood gazing down at it. Dan shook his head. ‘I don’t understand. I picked it all up. That’s how I cut myself. It was in the kitchen. Oh God!’ He broke off as he caught sight of the table. ‘Oh Jess –’

Her book of drawings was covered in red liquid. The pages were crumpled and one of the pictures had been scribbled all over. Jess reached for the light switch. ‘Who would do that?’ she whispered. ‘Dan –?’

‘No! Not me. I swear it! How could you even think it?’

‘Is it wine?’ Rhodri leaned over the table and touched the picture with a fingertip. ‘It’s sticky. Oh my God, it’s blood!’ Shocked, he stood back. ‘It was you!’ he accused Dan. ‘You’re the one bleeding all over the place!’

‘I told you it wasn’t!’ Dan replied angrily. ‘I would say if it was me, for goodness’ sake! I never went near the pictures.’ He strode over to the door. ‘Someone else has been in here. Look, the front door is open.’

‘That was me,’ Rhodri said. ‘Steph always leaves it open. I’m afraid I didn’t think.’ He took several steps out into the hall, looking round. ‘But who would do such a thing?’ There was real anger in his voice. ‘And why?’ He strode out into the courtyard. ‘There’s no one out here!’

Jess shook her head miserably. ‘Well, the drawings weren’t that special, I suppose. Nothing I can’t do again.’

‘That’s hardly the point!’ Dan said sternly. ‘Should we call the police?’

‘No.’ Jess shook her head. ‘They have long gone, whoever they were. Or at least –’ She broke off, glancing back towards the staircase.

‘I’ll go.’ Rhodri strode back inside and stood with his hand on the newel post, looking up. They all listened. Taking the steps two at a time he vanished across the landing. They heard doors opening and closing and his heavy tread across the floorboards. ‘There’s no one up here.’ His voice floated down to them. Reappearing he ran down. ‘I don’t think anything’s been touched up there. You’ve left some gold bangles on your dressing table, Jess. They wouldn’t still be there if anyone had gone upstairs. I suppose it must have been some deranged kid who popped in for some quick vandalism. It sounds unlikely but can you think of anything better?’ He shrugged. ‘You sometimes get strangers walking or biking on the tracks up through the woods.’

Jess glanced at Rhodri thoughtfully. It felt oddly unsettling suddenly to think of him peering round her bedroom. She pushed the thought aside. ‘But why? Why do that? Why spoil my pictures?’ She realised she had started to shake. She turned back into the dining room and stood looking down at the table. The sky outside had blushed deep red with the sunset and filled the room with a warm glow. Only the pool of electric light on the table was harsh. Reaching out to the blood stains she dabbed them gently. The blood was already dry.

‘I really do have to go,’ Rhodri called from the hall. ‘I’m so sorry this has happened. If there is anything I can do …’

‘You’ve done enough by leaving the door open,’ Dan retorted curtly.

‘Dan!’ Jess was indignant.

‘No, he’s right. And I am sorry.’ Rhodri moved towards the front door. ‘Look, I’ll leave you now, but if you need anything from the farm you know where I am.’

Dan grimaced as the door slammed behind him. ‘Tosser!’

‘It wasn’t his fault,’ Jess retorted sternly.

Dan sighed. ‘No, it wasn’t.’ He gestured at the sketchbook. ‘What do you want to do with this, shall I chuck it out?’

‘No!’ She spread her hands over it protectively. ‘No, leave it!’

‘At least let me clear up the glass.’ He glanced up at her. ‘No? OK, I’ll tell you what. Let’s have another drink before we go to bed.’

Jess froze. She stood for a moment unable to move then at last she looked up. ‘Dan –’

He glanced up enquiringly, eyebrow raised and she looked away, embarrassed. He hadn’t meant it like that. Of course he hadn’t. She smiled uncomfortably. ‘No more for me, thanks. I think I’ll go up now. I’m a bit tired …’ Refusing to catch his eye as he moved towards her, obviously intending to give her a goodnight kiss, she stepped back sharply. ‘Goodnight, Dan. Can you turn all the lights off for me.’ In seconds she had dodged round the table towards the stairs, leaving him looking after her with a puzzled frown.

Hours later she woke with a start. The latch on the door had clicked up. She stared across the room in the dark, her heart hammering. The house was totally silent.

‘Dan?’ She whispered the name soundlessly. But there was no further noise. Quietly she slipped out of bed and tiptoed across to the door, pressing her ear against the oak panels. There was no movement from the other side as she ran her fingers gently over the small brass bolt she had found there. Without wasting time to wonder why Steph had thought fit to put bolts on her bedroom doors she had been almost ashamed to find herself drawing it closed against Dan. She did not have to ask herself why she had been overwhelmed by this sudden feeling of revulsion at the thought of anyone coming to her bedroom, or why she had even for a second suspected Dan would suddenly be interested in her that way. He was, after all, a married man she had known for years as a friend. There had never been anything between them. It was an instinct; self-preservation. An automatic response to violation and fear.

She tensed at the sound of a slight creak from the landing and almost unconsciously she ran her fingers over the bolt again, pressing it in place, reassuring herself that it held, her cheek pressed against the warm wood of the door.

She stood there for a long time, aware of the silence which had settled over the house. Outside the starlight was slowly veiled by the drifting mist. In the darkness raindrops began to fall.

Jerking awake with a start she realised she had fallen asleep on her feet, leaning against the door. The house was quiet. The drumming rain on the studio roof outside her window was a steady background to the inner silence. With a groan she stumbled away from the door towards her bed and threw herself down on it. Within seconds she was asleep again.

The woods were dark and filled with the noise of the wind. Rain drummed on the leaves and somewhere nearby a fox gave a sharp angry bark. Gwladys lay huddled against her little brother, trembling.

‘Togo?’

He didn’t reply

‘Togo? I’m scared.’

She could see nothing; the ground was cold and hard and the roots of the trees hanging round them dug into her. ‘I don’t like playing this game. I want Mam.’ She began to rock backwards and forwards, humming to herself. ‘Where’s Eigon? Why doesn’t she come? She’d sing to us.’ She was near to tears. ‘I’m hungry. Are you hungry, Togo?’

Still he didn’t answer. She put out a hand to him. He was warm and solid, fast asleep in his own little world of dreams. Suddenly making up her mind she crawled away from him and stood up. Away from the shelter of the overhanging ditch the wind was very strong. The noise it made was frightening. No one would hear her if she called. She turned round, confused. Which way should she go? Where were the others?

‘Eigon? I don’t like this game. Can we stop playing now?’ Making up her mind, she set out down the track, her back to the wind, her pale hair blowing round her head, her eyes fixed on the bushes in front of her. ‘Eigon? Mam? Where are you?’ In seconds she was completely lost.

Behind her Togo woke suddenly in the darkness. He put out his little hand for his sister and found himself alone. Frightened, he began to cry.

Jess woke up late to the sound of the steadily beating rain. Pulling on jeans and a sweater after a hasty shower she ran down to find Dan’s holdall standing by the front door. She glanced into the kitchen. There was a pot of coffee on the table and it was set for two but there was no sign of him.

‘Dan?’

‘I’m in here.’ His voice came from the dining room. ‘Come and look at this, Jess.’

Reluctantly she walked over to the doorway and glanced in. He was staring down at the table. ‘It’s gone,’ he said softly. ‘All gone.’

‘What has?’ She moved towards him.

‘The damage. The scribbles. The blood. Look.’

He stood back, gesturing at the sketchbook in front of him. His face was white.

She glanced down and gasped out loud. He was right. The sketchbook was completely undamaged. Hardly daring to touch it she reached out and turned the pages. They were all the same. Her drawings and paintings were pristine.

‘I don’t understand.’ She picked up the book and riffled through it. ‘What’s happened?’

‘You tell me.’

She turned and stared round the dining room. Nothing had been touched. Everything was as neat and tidy as it had been before Rhodri arrived.

‘We can’t have dreamed it, can we?’ She met his gaze at last.

Dan shrugged. ‘All three of us?’ He shivered. ‘Let’s go into the kitchen. I made coffee before I came in here.’

She followed him. ‘We can’t all have imagined what happened, Dan.’

‘No?’ He grabbed the coffee pot. ‘Look in the bin.’

With a quick glance at him she peered in. ‘What am I looking at?’

‘Nothing. That’s the point. Where is the broken glass?’

‘Oh Dan!’ She dropped the lid and went to sit down at the table, ramming her sleeves up to her elbows, then running her fingers through her hair. Two intact bottles of wine stood side by side on the draining board.

He pushed a mug of coffee towards her. ‘It looks as though we all suffered some kind of hallucination,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t see how or why, but there is no other explanation. If we had all eaten the same thing I could put it down to magic mushrooms or something, but Rhodri didn’t eat with us.’

‘And your hand. Where you cut it? Is the cut still there?’ She reached out and touched his wrist.

He stretched out his right hand and turned it up to face her. There was no mark.

‘Oh God!’ She gave an involuntary shudder. ‘What on earth has happened to us?’

‘I’m afraid I am not going to be able to hang around to find out.’ He glanced up at her again. ‘I have to leave pretty soon, Jess. I’ve got a long drive ahead. Shall I ring up your mate Rhodri and get him to come over? You shouldn’t be on your own to sort this out, but I don’t know how my being here can help. Whatever it was it’s over now.’ He gave a small sharp bark of laughter. ‘Next time I see you we’ll joke about this!’ Gulping back his coffee, he stood up.

For a moment she hadn’t moved. She was still staring at his hand. Then she shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about me, Dan. I’ll give Rhodri a ring later and tell him what has happened.’

She followed him out to his car and watched as he loaded his bag and his books. In minutes she was waving him out of sight as he headed down towards the lane, his car bumping over the ruts. Strangely she felt nothing but relief at his departure. Had he got up in the night and tested her door handle, she wondered? Probably not. She frowned suddenly. He hadn’t offered to kiss her goodbye.

Walking back inside she went into the kitchen and straight to the sink. Without knowing why she turned on the tap and slowly rinsed her hands and face, then she reached for a towel.

Have the nasty men gone?

The voice was very close behind her. With a cry of fright she span round.

Can we stop playing now?

‘Jesus!’ She took a deep breath. ‘Where are you?’

There was no reply.

‘Eigon? Glads? Was it one of you who did that?’ She was suddenly angry. ‘Did you scribble over my drawings?’ She scanned the room. ‘Did you break all that glass?’

Outside the blackbird began to whistle from the roof of the studio. The rain had stopped and a stray ray of sunlight reflected off the wet paving stones. ‘Did you hear me?’ Jess called out again. She was suddenly every inch the schoolmistress. ‘I want to see you. Now!’ She held her breath, looking round. There was no sound. ‘I mean it!’

Was that a gurgle of laughter? She ran to the window and stared out, scanning the courtyard. The house was full of sound. The creak of roof timbers, the rustle of leaves, the drip of rain down the gutters, birds, the baaing of sheep from the hillside on the far side of the track. ‘Eigon?’ Jess used the child’s name without thinking, just as her mother, Cerys, had used it. ‘Come here. I want to speak to you.’

But there was no response, as she had known there wouldn’t be. She shook her head. Wandering back into the dining room she looked down at the table, half afraid that the sketchbook would once more be damaged. It wasn’t. It lay there untouched.

‘Shit!’ She went to the phone, overcoming her reluctance to contact Rhodri again. After about twenty rings the answer service picked up. ‘Rhodri? I’m sorry to disturb you, but can you come back here as soon as you can, there is something I need to show you.’ She paused. ‘Dan has gone. I’m on my own.’

Pulling the car into a gateway at the bottom of the lane, Dan turned off the engine and rested his forehead against the rim of the steering wheel. He was sweating hard. Fumbling blindly for the door handle he stumbled out into the long grass and nettles, dotted with campion, which fringed the trackway into the field and stood leaning on the gate waiting for the wave of nausea to pass. Then he turned and looked at the car.

It was empty. But someone had been in there, sitting behind him. Almost as soon as he had turned into the lane and pulled away from Ty Bran he had felt it. He could sense a presence. A solid threatening presence. A man. An angry, hate-filled man.

He had slammed on the brakes, staring into the mirror. Then he had turned, scanning the back seat. Nothing. Of course there was no one there. He accelerated away again, fast, over the roughly metalled lane, bumping the car over potholes and ridges, skidding over patches of red oozing mud which had leaked onto the road from the steep banks, growing more and more afraid until he had spotted the gateway, somewhere to pull up and throw himself out of reach of the malign shadow that was sharing his car.

Slowly the palpitations slowed. He wiped his face on his sleeve and turned, leaning on the gate, to stare at the vehicle. It sat there in the sunlight, the windows bright with reflections, the door hanging open as he had left it when he jumped out. Pushing himself away from the gate he forced himself to walk over and pull open the rear door. Leaning down, he peered in. Nothing. Cautiously he reached in, clawing at the empty air over the seat with his fingers as though to prove to himself the space was unoccupied. The film of sweat was drying on his face. He shivered, suddenly chilled. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the wild yapping cry of a buzzard, then near it, aggressive and primitive, the deep throaty croak of a raven. He peered up at the sky. It was up there. He could see it. The raven, a black silhouette against the blue, had set its sights on the buzzard. It was flying fast, on the attack, harrying, bullying, its call a sinister throbbing counterpoint to the alarmed yelp of the larger bird. Both birds angled their wings and swooped away over the fields and in a second they were out of sight over the shoulder of the hill.

Dan found he was breathing fast, as though he had been running. He swallowed hard, slamming the back door shut. Imagination. That was all. That damned haunted house and Jess with all her hysterical stories. They had got to him. He moved his head uncomfortably, his neck suddenly very stiff. For a moment he felt quite dizzy. He blinked. Something on the door had caught his eye. A smear of red. He held out his right hand and stared at it. A deep scar showed across his palm where he had cut it on the glass the night before. The cut that had disappeared. It was oozing blood. He shook his head. This was not happening! He straightened his back and squared his shoulders, furious with himself and with Jess. The sooner he got out of this god-forsaken place the better.

‘So, what do you want to show me?’

Rhodri turned in at the gate just after twelve. He stood looking down at her with a quizzical expression, half irritation, half amusement as he held out a bottle of white wine. She took it with a cautious grin. ‘The wine situation is not quite so dire as it was yesterday. Come and see.’

He followed her into the dining room and stood beside her, staring down at her sketchbook. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Neither did we. None of it happened. The pictures weren’t spoiled. The glass wasn’t broken. The wine bottles are full. Dan wasn’t cut.’ She glanced at Rhodri sideways. He was frowning as he looked down at the sketchbook. Almost nervously he reached out and turned the page. ‘This is some kind of joke, yes?’

‘No!’

‘That boyfriend of yours –’

‘Not my boyfriend. A colleague.’

‘Well, your colleague. He was trying to scare you, wasn’t he? Thought if you were frightened enough you would jump into bed with him.’

‘No!’ Jess turned on him furiously. ‘That is complete crap!’

‘So, you’re telling me he doesn’t fancy you?’ He favoured her with a look which made her feel first hot then cold as her mouth dropped open with indignation.

‘No, he doesn’t. At least …’ She paused. ‘No, of course he doesn’t. He’s a married man!’

‘Since when has that stopped people? Two of you here alone, no one for miles. Pretty house, lots of wine, no one here to interrupt, till I blunder in! You both made it pretty clear you did not want company.’

‘No, Rhodri. You’ve got it all wrong.’ She stared down at the sketchbook again. ‘How could anyone fake all that?’

‘Easy. Another sketchbook – so badly damaged you couldn’t tell. Lots of glass and spilled wine which could be cleaned up in the night. No real cut on his hand, just Kensington Gore.’

‘Kensington Gore?’ Jess was staring at him, bewildered.

‘Fake blood, darling!’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘No. You’re wrong,’ she repeated angrily. ‘Quite wrong!’

‘Am I? Maybe.’ He smiled. ‘Blame my profession. I have a taste for melodrama. But I’m a damn good judge of character. I wouldn’t trust that guy further than I could throw him.’

‘He’s my friend.’ She drew herself upright. ‘You have no business to say things like that!’

‘OK!’ He raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Forget I said anything. The great thing is that no harm was done and if you gave in to his comforting advances, then I apologise.’

‘He didn’t make any advances!’ Jess broke off abruptly. Suddenly she was remembering Dan’s ambiguous goodnight, the way he had stepped forward to kiss her, the bedroom door latch, the creak on the landing. She shivered. No. That was rubbish. Dan didn’t fancy her. He never had.

Seeing Rhodri’s raised eyebrow she went on, ‘Whatever else he might have done he couldn’t have faked my sketchbook. That was ruined last night. You saw it. It was covered in blood. It’s the same book.’

He shrugged. ‘Then I can’t explain how he did it. The man’s a miracle worker!’

She glared at him, shaking her head. ‘There is another possibility,’ she said tentatively. ‘Do you know if this house is haunted?’

Rhodri roared with laughter. ‘Ah, so it was the ghost!’

‘Maybe.’

When she didn’t smile he sobered rapidly. He studied her face, his head on one side. ‘Your sister thinks it is. She told my mother about it.’

‘What did she say?’

‘There’s a child here. A naughty child. She breaks things in the studio.’

Jess felt her stomach lurch. For a moment she said nothing.

Rhodri looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I think that is a cue for a drink if ever there was one.’

Jess watched as he vanished into the kitchen and with a confidence born of long association reached down two glasses from the cupboard, found a corkscrew and set about opening his bottle. He returned and handed her a glass. ‘This whole valley is haunted. I was brought up with the legends of these hills. Down there,’ he gestured towards the window, ‘in the valley bottom where the river runs, is the site of an ancient battle, so the story goes. And up on the hill behind us, there is an Iron Age fort. The place is full of ghosts of fallen warriors and anguished gods. Stories like that are told over centuries and improve with the telling, but there must be some truth behind them. Round here they claim it is the location of the last stand of Caratacus against the Romans. He was the Welsh hero who rallied the tribes.’

‘And the child in this house was his daughter,’ Jess said, half to herself.

Rhodri looked sceptical. ‘That’s a huge deduction! But come to think of it, why not.’ He took a swig from his glass. ‘It would be surprising if there weren’t ghosts round here. The Welsh borders are full of them. A thousand battles, two thousand years of strife. Mist and magic round every corner. It is a blessed place.’ He grinned.

Jess found herself smiling back almost against her will. When he wasn’t being aggressive he had a nice face. ‘Unless you happen to be living on top of a hot spot!’

‘Nicely put. You know what this house is called. Ty Bran. That means, Ravens House. And down there they call it the Valley of Ravens. It fits the story. Ravens come to a battlefield to pick the bodies of the dead clean. The battle goddess, is a raven goddess.’

Jess shivered. ‘It’s hardly surprising memories of something like that haunt a place.’

He hesitated. ‘Well, don’t let it put you off. It’s all in the past.’

‘Is it, though?’ She smiled sadly.

‘Yes.’ He looked at her with a frown. ‘Yes, it is.’ He drained his glass and put it down. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. My agent is coming over. He won’t stay long though. He doesn’t like to be out of the metropolis after dark! The ghosts are too much for him as well. Ring me if it all gets too much for you, girl, and I’ll take you down to the pub later. Distract you with a bevvy and a meal.’ He headed for the door. ‘Believe me, you’re better on your own up here. That chap was no good for you.’

She opened her mouth to argue but he was already halfway across the yard and climbing back into his car.

‘Cheeky bastard!’ she muttered as he began to back out of the gate. But for some reason he had made her feel better.