‘Goodness,’ Richard, stunned by his reading, passed the phone to his wife. ‘So, what you are saying, in a nutshell, is that you want to dig?’
‘With your permission,’ Jon confirmed, hopefully. ‘It won’t be a huge excavation. I know exactly where to dig, and where to find the items in question. Once we find the stones, I suggest we all contact the custodian at Somnath, and I shall follow whatever path they suggest is best for returning the items.’
Everyone nodded to concur.
‘But whatever happens, I will accompany the stones and ensure they arrive safely,’ Jon assured them all.
‘But, as the courier, won’t that make you subject to the curse?’
Connie reasoned, clearly concerned for him.
‘From what I have learned, as long as I stay my course in my intention to return the stones and don’t deviate from that mission, I shall be protected rather than hindered. These stones are not just jewels, they are holy relics and they want to go home.’
Richard turned and looked through the window to see the sun setting fast. ‘Too late to start today, it will have to be tomorrow. I know a guy with a Bobcat backhoe, I’ll see if I can get him down.’
‘That would be fantastic!’ Jon was so grateful, and shook the man’s hand as he stood to leave. ‘What time shall we come back?’
‘No point driving all the way back to London,’ Connie proffered. ‘You’re both welcome to stay the night here. We’ve got three spare bedrooms that we use for a B&B in the warmer months.’
Jon looked to Simon, who appeared not quite so thrilled by the offer as he was.
‘Unless you’re scared of ghosts?’ Connie made a vexing guess at Simon’s hesitation.
‘Thank you,’ Jon spoke for them both. ‘We’re happy to pay to stay.’
‘I wouldn’t hear of it.’ Connie stood to go prepare some rooms. ‘After all, you’ve been invited here by one of the ancestors of this land.’
‘Oh dear lord.’ Her husband shook his head at her view. ‘Just do what I do,’ Richard advised Simon. ‘A few more drinks and it will be morning before you know it.’
* * *
The escape from her warehouse and the press in the middle of the night had left Sara completely exhausted and she slept in until late morning the following day. Upon waking in Willie’s guest bedroom she couldn’t find her luggage or her host anywhere inside the apartment. So once she’d made tea for herself, she sorted through an assortment of WJP sunglasses samples sitting on a small display stand on the breakfast bar and having found a pair to her liking, she ventured up the stairs to the terrace.
Out on the rooftop pool area, sunglasses were a must. Sara found her saviour reclining on a sun lounge with his work tablet in the shade of his roofed pergola.
‘Good morning!’ He seemed in good spirits. ‘Just watching myself on the news, no one has recognised me yet . . . except Lizzie. Who I just got off the phone from. She’s frantic with worry and wants you to call her. Apparently the shoot was fabulous, and she’s over the moon with the images, which will be in next week’s issue of Retro Chic.’
‘That’s exciting,’ Sara sounded anything but. Her life had been flipped on its head, and she was still rather disorientated. ‘I should call her . . . but I left my phone behind at home. We should pay cash, for everything.’
‘Under control, not to worry, and that’s exactly what I told Lizbeth.’ Willie grinned. ‘The real couriers picked up your collection this morning and delivered it for manufacture. If they have any concerns I’ve given them Lizzie’s number.’
‘You’re an angel.’ Sara put down her tea, kissed his cheek, and collapsed onto the huge sun lounge beside him.
‘Don’t get too comfortable, we’re leaving soon.’
Sara groaned. ‘Where are we going?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘What if he guesses we’re flying the coop? The airport is going to be an obvious place to look for us.’
‘Have a little faith. I ain’t the one who went all Xena warrior princess and picked a fight with a demon.’
‘Ahh . . . don’t remind me.’ She covered her head with a pillow.
‘You need to wake your arse up!’ He reached over and gave her a few friendly nudges. ‘So we can get moving. Go throw yourself in the pool.’
‘I would if I could find my luggage.’ Sara rolled off the sun lounge to feel the water temperature. ‘My bathing suit is in there—’ She reached down, and through the glass bottom of the pool, noted someone walking down the corridor towards Willie’s apartment — it was Robert. She gasped and backed away.
‘What is it?’ Willie was up.
‘Robert is here.’ Her heart was pumping so hard in her chest she couldn’t breathe.
The other door that led onto the rooftop opened and Tyrell waved them both inside. ‘Quickly,’ he urged, waiting for them to enter before he locked the door.
‘How did he get in?’ Willie was stunned and annoyed.
‘He took out the security guard downstairs; the police are on the way.’ Tyrell led them down into his apartment where his spare room was set up with monitors he used to survey Willie’s apartment. ‘He must have seen Will on TV.’ Tyrell served him a stern glare. ‘I told you to let me deal with the press.’
At present Robert was in the hall going through the security guard’s keys, trying to find one that would open Willie’s apartment door.
‘He’s in!’ Sara panicked.
‘To my apartment. But not to worry, we are prepared for this.’ Willie grabbed up a bag sitting by the wall and from it he pulled some of his designer swag and shoved it into her hand. ‘He doesn’t know I own the apartment across the hall as well.’
‘We own the apartment,’ Tyrell objected to the inference that he was a kept man.
‘We own.’ Willie stood corrected, as he pulled trousers on under his shave coat, and threw on an oversized singlet and jacket. ‘Dress now!’ he prompted Sara, stressing the urgency.
‘Oh.’ Sara pulled on the hip hop threads, which included a baggy cap she could conceal her hair in. ‘But he’s got the keys for the whole building!’
‘Don’t stress, just dress,’ Willie suggested.
‘Okay, he’s heading for the bedrooms,’ Tyrell reported, his eyes on the screens. ‘Go now before he gets to the roof. If it looks like he’s coming after you, I’ll do my best to waylay him. Good luck.’ He kissed Willie goodbye. ‘I’ll call with updates.’
‘Be safe.’ Willie grabbed up the pre-prepared bag, and Sara’s hand.
‘Wait.’ Tyrell observed Robert onscreen emerging from the bedrooms and looking back towards the front door, then to the stairs leading up to the roof.
His voice came over the speakers. ‘Temple witch! I know you’re here! Come and threaten me to my face! You may have everyone else fooled but I know you for the manipulative, self-obsessed bitch that you are!’
After a moment’s deliberation he headed for the roof.
‘Go!’ Tyrell accompanied them to the front door.
The race was on to get down the hall and into the elevator before Robert could make it to the roof and spot them beneath the pool. Of course when they reached the elevator, they found the carriage was several floors down.
‘Come on!’ Sara was running on the spot eager to get out of there. ‘Should we take the stairs?’
‘It’s nearly here.’ Willie turned to see the watery figure of Robert circling around the far end of the pool above.
A ting announced the elevator’s arrival and they rushed into the carriage and took it to ground level. At the ground floor the doors parted to reveal the unconscious security guard on the floor.
‘Oh my God . . . we should do something—’
‘You’re not a medic, Tyrell has got this.’ Willie dragged her out the front door and straight into a cab.
In the city, they jumped onto a train, and then from there to another cab. ‘I think we lost him.’ Willie was confident.
‘Eve
n I have no idea where we are.’ Sara felt free to breathe again. ‘That was a pretty damn fine getaway, Willie-J!’
‘Yep.’ Willie was a little tense as he checked his messages, but breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Tyrell is fine. The police arrived and Robert fled before he was forced to confront him. The security guard has been taken to hospital in a stable condition.’
‘Thank goodness . . . I didn’t get anyone else killed.’
‘Hey, listen here, my dear . . . you’d never hurt a fly. There are cures for all kinds of ills where we’re going, I’m sure they’ll have a solution to whatever the hell his problem is.’
Sara hugged her self-appointed guardian, enormously thankful to have a travel companion. ‘There is a problem . . . well no, there’s probably many problems, but the main one is that the stone is in my luggage . . . there is no point going to India without it. Not to mention my passport—’
Willie held a finger to his lips, to urge her not to voice her concerns yet. ‘Anywhere here, thanks, driver.’
The cab drove off and left them in a tiny bayside town.
‘Fish and chips?’ her guide suggested merrily, crossing the quiet street to where the milk bar was located. ‘We can take it out onto the dock yonder.’ He pointed to the large jetty extending out into the bay.
‘Sounds great.’ Sara followed, sensing something was a little amiss here. Willie was a full-on luxury kind of guy and this little town was anything but that; she rather suspected he did not plan on slumming it out here for the week and a bit is was going to take for their visas to India to be processed.
Still, ‘slumming it’ was hardly the phrase to describe the taste of fresh beer-battered dory and crispy fried chips smothered in chicken salt, washed down with cold ginger beer. The sound of water lapping against the jetty was soothing as the rolling waves bounced sunlight all over them.
‘Right on time.’ Willie checked his watch and waved to an incoming luxury cruiser that pulled right into the wharf.
Willie helped to secure the boat and then the captain disembarked and handed Willie the keys. ‘All yours, boss. All stocked, just as you asked.’
‘Cheers!’ Willie kissed the young man’s cheek and waved him goodbye.
‘But how will he get back?’ Sara motioned to the departing courier.
‘Same way we got here.’ Willie shrugged. ‘He’s been very well paid, I’m sure he can afford it.’
‘So, you’re the captain of your own boat now?’ Sara found that a pleasing twist of fate. ‘I would have thought you would hate the ocean after our last life together.’
‘You know me, when defeated, just get the hell up and do it better.’ Willie jumped aboard and held a hand out to Sara.
‘Well, this is certainly that.’ She climbed aboard and spotted her luggage inside the hatch; clearly Willie was way ahead of her.
‘We don’t have to dock for anything but fuel until the plane leaves, and only I know which airport we are departing from. Let’s see that jerk find us now.’ Willie cast off and took a seat behind the wheel in the captain’s cabin to head them offshore.
* * *
Jon awoke shielding his eyes from the glare of a very bright light. The sphere was just inside the window in his room, then it shifted abruptly outside and dropped out of sight.
Before he realised what he was doing, he was walking through the frosty dark forest, the heat from his slumber still clinging to him, forming a buffer between himself and the cold. At the rubble of ruins the orb expanded and took the solid human form of Rosalind Marchard. She appeared just as he’d last seen her, but they were both in better moods on this occasion.
You worked it out. The old woman appeared fit to cry from relief; one thousand years was a long time to be in limbo.
‘Salvation is close at hand, Rosalind.’
No wonder I loved you as a son, you once were my only child. She served him an endearing smile as she reminisced on her life as Lochana. I should have stayed my course that day.
‘As I should have. None of us are perfect.’ He absolved her of any wrongdoing. ‘You just wanted to protect me, as I wanted to protect her. Where is she, Rosalind? Can you tell me?’
Our mistake is always thinking we know better than the divine, just stay the course, and know that the gods always want what is best for us, she implored.
* * *
Jon awoke to a strange flapping sound, only to realise he’d never left his bed, his adventure the previous night had been but a dream. He was fully conscious now, however, as he shielded his eyes from the glare of the light — it was morning and Simon had just raised the blind on his window.
‘Wake up, Galahad, time to find the holy grail . . . the Bobcat is here.’
‘I dreamed about Rosalind . . .’ Jon sat up to focus on recalling the details. ‘I spoke with her in the wood.’
‘Creepy.’ Simon shuddered. Clearly he perished the thought.
Jon couldn’t really remember what they had discussed exactly, but the dream had left him with a distinct impression.
‘She’s waiting for us.’ He dressed swiftly, eager to get on. ‘And she’s still in possession of the goods.’
‘Wonderful,’ Simon said flatly. ‘I’m not too sure goods is a very accurate description of what she’s holding.’
‘Come on . . . we are about to unearth an ancient treasure that has been buried for a thousand years, be a little enthusiastic.’ Jon fled from the room.
‘And a dead body, don’t forget that part.’ Simon trailed him downstairs.
The Bobcat made quick work of excavating the dirt from on top of the stone slab that had once been the base support for the crumbled statue and formed the ceiling of Rosalind’s antechamber. Digging down around the edges, it appeared that the slab was one huge piece and that they might be able to use the Bobcat bucket to flip the stone top off the chamber.
‘Sounds good to me.’ Simon folded his arms, happy so long as he didn’t have to be in any way involved.
‘If the walls of the chamber don’t collapse, or they haven’t already, we should find what we’re looking for inside the cavity directly beneath,’ Jon outlined.
‘Let’s go after it then.’ Richard gave the Bobcat driver the nod.
‘This is the most excitement we’ve seen in ages.’ Connie stood by Jon and her husband, eagerly watching events unfold.
Simon, however, was very pleased when his phone rang. ‘Ah, business.’ He walked away to take the call.
Hooking the teeth of the bucket under the slab, the Bobcat arm lifted the huge obstruction and flipped it over onto the grass.
‘Oh my.’ Connie looked to Jon, who was already venturing closer, and she held her husband back, uncertain if it was safe to approach.
Down in the dusty cavity the walls of the antechamber held firm and Jon looked down upon Rosalind’s headless skeletal remains, reclined in a chair by a small table, hands crossed at her chest, clutching a small wooden box.
‘She’s here! I’ll need a ladder,’ he called back to the landowner and his wife, who both immediately went to retrieve the said item.
The moment was rather surreal — what Jon had once thought reverie was now firmly rooted in reality. All the events the chair had shown him had actually happened — here was the proof.
‘Oh, dear Lord.’ Connie crossed herself as she saw the human remains in the hole.
‘Not to worry,’ Jon told her, as he and Richard lowered the ladder down carefully into place. ‘I assure you today is the happiest of Rosalind’s afterlife. This is not desecration, it is salvation, to her.’
Connie served him a smile, reassured. ‘You’re an extraordinary young man to risk ridicule and such grisly, dangerous chores to do this for her.’
‘He’s not completely selfless.’ Simon returned to the scene. ‘There’s a woman involved.’ He cast his eyes into the pit and grimaced. ‘Hopefully that’s not her.’
Jon rolled his eyes for several reasons, none of which he stated.
&nb
sp; Connie’s smiled broadened. ‘So there is even more to this story than we know?’
Jon escaped the inquisition by climbing down the ladder.
‘He hasn’t even told me all of it yet,’ Simon ribbed.
‘I wonder why?’ Jon was rather thankful that he hadn’t.
It was strange to be standing in the very room where Thorkell had been introduced to his demon. Jon dusted off part of the floor to see the white line that once encircled the room — it was just as he had foreseen.
‘What’s in the chest?’ Simon spotted one by the wall.
‘Her oracle paraphernalia . . . that’s what got her in this mess in the first place. Best leave it be . . .’ Jon observed Rosalind’s headless remains — her jaw bone lay in her lap and her skull was sitting upside down on the dusty floor. However, the rest of her appeared to be clutching the box at her chest rather tightly. ‘Let’s just take what we came for.’
‘You’re the one in the hole with a corpse, your call.’ Simon shuddered.
Jon approached Rosalind’s remains and gingerly lifted the hand on top away from the treasure, whereupon her entire skeleton collapsed into a heap. The event startled the life out of Jon, and everyone observing gasped. The wooden box was left sitting in the folds of the rotting fabric of her dress, which also threatened to turn to powder at a touch. Steeling his nerves and his squeamish stomach, Jon retrieved the small box and took a peek inside, before closing it once more.
‘Are they in there?’ Simon, and all, were dying to know.
Jon nodded to confirm and there was much rejoicing above as he looked back to the pile of bones. ‘Time for you to finally join your Leonardo, I expect.’ He’d never even suspected he had a spirit guide, now he had to wonder how he’d do without one. ‘But whatever becomes of all of this, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done in your effort to put things right. Rosalind Marchard, may you rest in peace, and your soul be at liberty to move on in the grand scheme of things.’
‘Hear, hear,’ Richard seconded that motion.
‘Good speech,’ Simon awarded, as his phone rang again. ‘Now can we put a lid on this and get back to London? Hello, Simon Dobbs.’ He walked away to take the call as Jon climbed up the ladder and out of the pit.
The Immortal Bind Page 25