Back in his office Paul was seething. He poured his third glass of whisky and began pacing up and down the carpet. It was Clare’s fault! If she hadn’t prevaricated and fought him and lied! If she had given him some loyalty as a wife should! The bitch! The cold, stupid, mad bitch! He drained his glass, then he rang his solicitor. ‘Ken, I’m coming back to you about the papers over my wife’s committal when the doctors and others have seen her again. But now I want you to make a statement to the press refuting the garbage Forbes talked about the family on Monday.’ He was breathing heavily through his nose. ‘Tell him Clare Royland is not selling Duncairn. There has never been any question of it. And tell them Forbes is an ignorant troublemaker. Clare confirms that the site has absolutely no interest whatsoever ecologically, or archaeologically. It’s just a cold barren cliff and a third-rate hotel with nothing to offer visitors but an east wind straight from Siberia, and what is more no one, repeat, no one, has made an offer to buy the place. Got that? Oh, for God’s sake, Ken, word it any way you like, but get Forbes off my back!’ He slammed down the phone, then he went back to the whisky bottle for the fourth time. He had been summoned to appear before Sir Duncan and the members of the full board in half an hour.
Geoffrey was very thoughtful after his return from seeing the bishop. He sat down opposite his wife in the comfortable shabby sitting room of the rectory and leaning forward took her hand.
‘I told him everything – including your doubts.’ He smiled. ‘And the fact that you think she is making it all up. We discussed her for a long time, and we prayed together. He is rather of the opinion that we are right to be afraid for her.’ He paused. ‘Chloe dear, he has left it to me to decide what to do. I am going to celebrate a Eucharist for her and I am going to talk to the bishop’s special committee about her, but he has given me permission to conduct a ceremony of exorcism myself if I feel that that is the only thing to do that could possibly help her.’
Chloe stared at him. ‘An exorcism? You’re not serious! Geoffrey, for God’s sake –!’
‘Yes, my darling, for God’s sake.’ He looked very grave. ‘Please believe me, I do know what I’m talking about. I wouldn’t enter into this lightly – and I may never do it. I shall have to talk to her and to everyone around her again and again before I decide, but I have the bishop’s approval to go ahead if I feel that it is the only course which will help her.’ He stood up, frowning. ‘Believe me, I have thought about this hard, Chloe. It is not something I want to do. It is not something I am qualified to do.’
‘Then don’t do it. For God’s sake don’t do it, Geoff. Why even consider it?’
‘Because it may come to the point where someone has to. Normally the bishop would appoint one of the diocesan exorcists, someone from her own diocese, but as she is my sister-in-law, and as, so far as I know, she is not a churchgoer, at Dedham or at Airdlie, and never has been, he has agreed that maybe psychologically it would be better for me, someone she knows, and I think trusts, to conduct the service –’
‘You are playing straight into Paul’s hands!’ Chloe stood up, furious. ‘Oh, Geoffrey, how can you be such a fool! There is nothing wrong with Clare!’
He smiled. ‘Please, my dear. This is something you must let me be the judge of. If Clare is possessed by a spirit from the past we have to drive it out of her before it takes her over completely.’
‘She is making it all up, Geoff –’
‘I don’t think so.’ He shook his head. ‘I am well aware that Paul is trying to use the situation to his own advantage. I do know my own brother, but that does not lessen the fact of Clare’s real danger. She needs our help, Chloe. Yours and mine. You must support me, my dear. She will need a woman to be with her through this. One she trusts and who understands.’
Chloe bit her lip. She sat down again slowly. ‘I can’t believe all this is happening. It is like something from a horror movie. What happens in an exorcism? What do you have to do?’
‘I pray with her, and order the spirits to leave.’
‘And it’s as simple as that? Supposing she doesn’t agree?’
‘She will, my dear. I’m sure she will when she realises all I want is to help her.’
‘And when are you going to do all this?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m going to discuss it once more with Paul. I know he wants me to see her again, and if necessary sign this paper giving him power of attorney while she is ill. She is certainly not capable of making rational decisions at the moment. No –’ he held up his hand. ‘I know what you’re going to say. I shan’t sign anything which will harm Clare, or allow Paul to misuse her assets in any way. I’m not stupid. I shall see Clare either when she returns south, or if necessary I shall go up to Perthshire. I would like it to be as soon as possible, but the moment must be right.’
That evening when Geoffrey was attending a meeting of the vestry committee Chloe rang Emma. ‘He wants to exorcise her, Em! Bell, book and candle! Seriously. What are we going to do?’
‘He’s an idiot!’ Emma sounded preoccupied. ‘He won’t get near her. Clare will tell him to get lost.’
‘Paul is back in London,’ Chloe went on. ‘Geoffrey rang him this evening. He was in a foul mood apparently, and he said there was no point in Geoff going near her at the moment. He told him to stop interfering! That’s a bit rich, considering he came to us in the first place.’
‘Paul is probably desperate,’ Emma said slowly. ‘I think Rex Cummin has withdrawn his offer to buy Duncairn.’
‘Oh God!’ Chloe said. ‘Does that mean Paul will go bankrupt?’
‘I think it might.’ Emma’s voice was tight with misery. ‘And if it does, it will all be my fault. But I did it for Clare’s sake.’
Archie was out with the dogs when Clare walked into his study, her mother trailing unhappily behind her. Antonia was bored with being told to watch her daughter day and night. She loved Clare and she wanted to help her, but Clare’s rebellious bad temper was more than she could bear. Besides, she was a little afraid. Now that Paul had gone they were all breathing more easily, but still the threat of what Clare had got herself mixed up in remained. There had been no signs of anything frightening that she could see, but even so the doors were still locked, and the keys in Archie’s pocket.
‘Who are you ringing, dear?’ she asked nervously as Clare sat down at her father’s desk and picked up the phone. ‘I don’t think you ought to –’
‘I’m ringing Neil Forbes.’ Clare began to dial. She had found the number of Earthwatch in the directory after she saw Paul’s statement in the paper her father had hidden in the boot room.
She drummed her fingers on the desk. If Paul had issued a public statement two days ago that they were not selling Duncairn, why was she still a prisoner? She would take that one up with Archie when he came in.
Neil was about to go out to lunch. ‘Why, Mrs Royland! Surprise, surprise!’ His voice was acid. ‘I didn’t expect to hear from you again after your solicitor’s oh-so-public vilification of me and my organisation.’
Kenneth Beaumont’s carefully phrased answers to Neil’s original attack had lost none of Paul’s venom for all that the libellous content had been removed.
‘They are not my solicitors, Mr Forbes,’ Clare said desperately. ‘They are my husband’s. I did not say any of that. None of it. I know Duncairn is special. I know it is ecologically very sensitive. I know the castle is a historic monument. I love Duncairn. I would never say any of those things.’
‘Then why allow statements like that to be put out in your name?’
‘I didn’t know about it. Paul is in London. I only saw it today. My husband doesn’t speak for me.’
‘No?’ Neil gave a short laugh. ‘Well, it hardly matters, does it? You’re not selling, that’s the main thing. That much is true, I take it?’
‘I told you that at the hotel.’
‘Ah yes, before you ran away into the night with your husband.’
‘I didn’t go wit
h him willingly, Mr Forbes.’
‘Of course not.’ His tone was sarcastic. ‘I don’t see much point in this conversation, Mrs Royland. Our quarrel is not with you, now. Earthwatch is going to direct its campaign against the issuing of prospecting licences in sites of special interest like Duncairn. Because this case has had so much publicity we will centre the battle in Scotland there, separately from but in close consultation with the similar campaigns going on in the south of England. If you care about Duncairn, Mrs Royland, you would be there with us.’
‘I do care,’ Clare said wearily.
‘But duty to your husband keeps you at his side? Of course.’ Neil’s tone was mocking. ‘I understand perfectly.’
‘You don’t understand at all.’ Clare’s voice fell to a whisper.
‘To support us would be to contradict his statement about us. What more is there to be said?’
‘I want to support you –’ Clare said desperately.
‘So what is stopping you, Mrs Royland?’ Neil hung up.
‘What indeed?’ Clare put the phone down. Her hands were shaking. She put her head in her arms on the desk top.
‘Oh, Clare, darling.’ Antonia went over to her and patted her anxiously on the shoulder. ‘You must not upset yourself like this –’
‘Please, Mummy, let me go.’ Clare groped for her mother’s hand. ‘Please. I’m sure Paul would say it was all right.’
Antonia shook her head unhappily. ‘It is for your own good, darling. Until Paul has sorted out this terrible man –’
‘What man?’ Clare frowned.
Antonia bit her lip. ‘This man in Cambridge who has been teaching you all these terrible things –’
‘Zak?’ Clare stood up staring at her. ‘I don’t believe this! Paul says he is going to sort him out? Paul doesn’t care about Zak! He’s never even met him! Anyway, Zak is in America now. He’s gone.’
‘Gone?’ Her mother echoed. ‘You mean he’s gone for good?’
‘I’ve no idea. Zak is a casual friend, Mummy, nothing more. He is not some kind of religious freak. All he taught me was some yoga and meditation.’
Mutely Antonia shook her head. ‘Whatever he is, darling, we can’t let you go yet. Wait until Paul makes sure it is safe for you. Wait until these terrible dreams have left you. Soon you will be able to go, I promise, but not yet, darling, not yet.’
‘You don’t really believe that I’m possessed.’ Clare sat down again slowly. ‘Not really. You are far too level-headed and realistic. Paul is making all this up, Mummy.’
‘He’s convinced Archie.’ Antonia side-stepped the question.
‘And so you back up Archie!’ Clare groaned. ‘Of course you do. What else? I notice he isn’t showing any signs of going away as he planned. Has he changed his mind? For God’s sake, Mummy, what has happened to your own will, your own mind? Can’t you think for yourself any more?’
Antonia tightened her lips angrily. ‘Of course I can, Clare. Being rude won’t help you. You never used to be rude. I agree with Archie. The best thing is for you to stay here quietly until Paul has sorted everything out. Did I tell you that James is coming up for a week’s shooting? He rang last night.’ She desperately tried to distract Clare with a change of subject. ‘That will be nice for you – to see your brother again.’
Clare raised an eyebrow. ‘James? So he’s in on it too, is he?’
‘He’s coming to shoot, Clare.’ Her mother sighed in exasperation. ‘But maybe he will be able to help us.’
‘James?’ Clare walked over to the window and stared out at the bleak garden. ‘Why should James know anything about it? He’ll just think you and Archie have gone completely off your heads.’
‘Perhaps he will.’ Antonia gave a wan smile. She hadn’t dared to tell her daughter that Paul had arranged for Sarah Collins to fly north to help them watch her, or that she would be arriving that afternoon.
Sir David Royland had picked up Geoffrey in central London before driving out to Kensington. They both stood in the drawing room of the Campden Hill house whilst Paul poured them a drink, then all three men sat down. Paul was on edge. The meeting at the office had been awful. They all knew. He had been suspended from the board pending an internal enquiry and asked not to go into Coleman Street for the next few days. It had been suggested that he develop an expedient dose of flu for the time being. On top of that had come his elder brother’s phone call announcing his visit this evening with Geoffrey.
‘I think you should know, Paul, that we have talked with Emma this evening and she has given us permission to act in her name as well as our own,’ David said slowly. He took a sip from his glass. ‘We want to know the exact situation. Are the rumours true? Are you about to go bankrupt?’
Paul was tight-lipped. ‘Who has been talking to you?’
‘Never mind who has been talking. Is it true?’ David leaned back in his chair.
‘It looks like it. I shan’t be able to meet a settlement charge.’
‘How much?’
‘A little under two million.’
‘Good God, Paul! Are you out of your mind?’
‘It was a gamble – a certainty, I thought. If it had come off no one would have been the wiser.’
‘Until next time,’ Geoffrey put in. ‘Look, Paul, have you still got your shares in father’s company?’
Paul stood up. The veins in his temples were distended and throbbing. ‘Of course.’
‘Then the three of us will take them off your hands. David and I will take a third of them each and David is going to chip in with the rest to buy a third for Emma. That keeps it all in the family, as the trust lays down. That will clear your debt and leave you some over for any other obligations you may have. It will also take the worry off Clare’s shoulders.’ He frowned. ‘She must be protected from any outside stress at the moment at all costs.’
David was nodding. ‘It’s the best way, old chap, then, when things get better you can buy them back. This keeps it all in the family the way Dad would have wanted, and it leaves the children’s trust fund untouched.’ He glanced at Geoffrey.
‘The children’s trust fund!’ Paul echoed. ‘With one more little Royland to benefit, I gather.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘I haven’t congratulated you on the birth of your new son, yet, have I, David?’ He threw himself back in his chair with a sigh.
‘Cheer up, Paul, old chap,’ Geoffrey put in awkwardly. ‘This puts everything right. No more problems. No one will ever know. It could have happened to anyone.’
Paul was staring out into the dead, dark garden through the undrawn curtains. No one would ever know – as long as Rex Cummin kept quiet, and Diane Warboys, and as long as the board of BCWP closed ranks and kept silent and united against any questions which might be asked about insider dealing. ‘Of course it could have happened to anyone,’ he repeated dully. ‘But it didn’t, did it? It happened to me.’
The next morning he rang the president elect of Sigma International in London and offered him first refusal of the lands of Duncairn at a knockdown price. ‘Once the environmental lobby is silenced, which it will be once the licences are confirmed, you’ll be laughing. I just thought I’d tell you that the property is still on the market in case you want to apply again before the applications close.’ He hung up. He might have lost his holdings in the family firm; but he hadn’t lost everything. With the money from Duncairn he would buy into a new issue, recoup his losses ten-fold and buy back the shares within three months.
And Duncairn had to go. After what Clare had done to him he was going to make her pay. He was going to make her pay with Duncairn, and with her sanity.
He sat down at his desk, staring at the opposite wall. Locked alone in that tower, tormented by ghosts, how long would she last? Either she would break or she would throw herself off the top of the tower in a frenzy of claustrophobic terror.
* * *
Sarah Collins adored Airdlie on sight. She had seen photographs of the house before, but the r
eality met every romantic notion she held of the baronial Scottish hall: the huge draughty rooms, the pointed Victorian roofs, the stained glass, the wrought iron and there at one corner the genuine sixteenth-century tower with its flagpole – the tower where Clare was held prisoner.
She paid off the taxi with some of the money Paul had given her for the trip and walked up to the front door. The barking of the dogs and the rattling of the key, satisfyingly large and old-fashioned, as Archie opened it for her, all added to her excitement. She was going to enjoy this part of her job.
Clare was sitting in the library, her feet up on the sofa, reading, when Antonia brought Sarah in at last. ‘Clare darling, look who has arrived. Mrs Collins has come to give us all a hand.’ Antonia was looking distinctly nervous.
Clare’s face had lost weight. She looked gaunt and tired. Sarah smiled. ‘Mrs Royland. It’s good to see you.’
‘Hello, Sarah. Did Paul send you?’ Clare swung her feet to the floor.
Sarah, who had been half expecting to find Clare in chains, was almost disappointed to note the sheer stockings and the Gucci sandals.
‘He thought perhaps your mother and father could do with a bit of help with you being here, and your brother coming tomorrow.’ Sarah smiled uncertainly.
‘What a kind thought.’ Clare did not try to hide the sarcasm in her tone. ‘Where is he?’
‘Mr Royland? In London. We’ve closed up Bucksters for a while.’
‘I think I’ll make some tea,’ Antonia put in hastily with a glance at Clare. ‘Please, sit down – Sarah –’ She had hesitated, wondering whether to use the woman’s first name or to be more formal.
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