Kingdom of Shadows

by Barbara Erskine

  Archie hesitated, guilt fighting with the longing to get out of the house. In the end the latter won. After all, he owed it to James to show him the Creag nam Muir beat …

  Antonia sat down after they had gone and looked at Sarah wearily. ‘Do you still want to go into Perth today?’ All she wanted herself was to creep upstairs to bed, but if Sarah went out she could have to stay up to watch Clare.

  Sarah smiled apologetically. ‘Not for long, but there are one or two things I need urgently.’ Now that she had made up her mind, she was determined to go through with it, and she had judged Antonia shrewdly. The woman was strong in her way, but dominated by her boorish husband. She disliked holding Clare a prisoner, but she hadn’t the courage herself to let her go. Instead of shrieking at Archie as anyone in their right mind would have done in Sarah’s opinion, she took regular refuge in her migraines, opting out each time for a few precious hours.

  She leaned forward and touched Antonia’s hand lightly. ‘You are feeling bad, my dear, aren’t you? Is it one of your heads? Why don’t you go and have a lie down? Clare’s asleep. I don’t think she will want to come downstairs today.’

  Antonia sighed with relief. Within ten minutes she had taken three paracetamol and, curtains drawn, had sunk into the pillows of her bed.

  Sarah stood in the hall for several minutes, the keys of the Volvo in her hand. Now that it had come to it, she was uneasy. Jobs like hers with the Roylands were not easy to come by and she needed the work. Was she throwing it all away? She had no doubt at all that Paul would sack her if he ever found out she had allowed Clare to go. She swallowed nervously – then she unlocked the front door and went out. The car was standing in the yard at the back of the house. She unlocked it and, opening the door, leant in and cautiously slid the key into the ignition. Immediately the car’s ignition alarm went off – an insistent loud bleep, ringing round the yard. She slammed the door, her heart thumping with fright and the car subsided into smug silence. She glanced up at the house. There was no sound. No one looked out of the windows. Tiptoeing now, she fled back around the side and in through the front door.

  Clare was lying on her bed, reading.

  ‘Hurry! There’s so little time! I don’t know how long your mother will sleep for!’ Sarah was agitated now, somehow expecting that Clare would have guessed that the right moment had come so soon and would have been ready. ‘Your father and James left about an hour ago.’

  Clare shot off the bed. ‘The car keys –?’

  ‘They are in the car. Round the back, in the yard. And I’ve left the front door unlocked. Oh hurry! Please.’

  Clare flung on her clothes, threw a few things into her big shoulder bag and grabbed the coat Sarah pushed at her. ‘Bless you, Sarah.’ Clare gave her a hug, then she was gone, running down the stairs, tiptoeing across the landing, down the front staircase and out into the cold.

  Upstairs her mother was fast asleep behind the heavy rose velvet curtains. In her room further down the corridor Sarah closed her door and sat down on her bed. There were tears in her eyes.

  Clare pulled open the door of the car and nearly jumped out of her skin as the ignition alarm started braying across the yard. She snatched the key out, cursing. Sarah was an idiot to have left it in! She threw her coat and bag into the car and climbed in, fumbling in her panic, her breath coming in tight painful little gasps. The Volvo started first go and she turned it, her hands shaking on the wheel, and headed out of the yard, round the front of the house and down the drive as fast as she dared, scanning the woods on both sides for any sign of her step-father or James.

  She was barely outside the gate when she realised that the petrol gauge was nearly at zero. Cursing again she drove straight to the garage and waited, trying to hide her impatience as the car was filled, listening to the friendly chatter of the pump attendant. He had known her and her family for years.

  Tell him you are going north. Tell him you’re going to Duncairn. Put them off the trail.

  ‘Where’s the dog, then? I thought you two were inseparable!’ he said as she fumbled in her purse for her credit card. He took it from her and headed towards his office. The comment, passed casually, nearly threw her. She was missing Casta desperately. ‘She’s on the hill with my father, being a real gun dog,’ she managed to reply. ‘She’s on holiday, like me!’ She waited in an increasing agony of impatience as he hunted for his slide machine below the counter. At last he found it. ‘Well, you’ve enough petrol to get you halfway across Scotland now.’ He grinned at her as he handed her card back with the credit slip. It was a question.

  ‘I’m going over to Duncairn,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll be staying at the hotel for a few weeks, I expect …’

  But the road she took led south towards Perth. From there she took the M90 towards Edinburgh and now she was thinking only about Zak. Please let him be there, and let him find a way of helping, otherwise she didn’t know what she was going to do …

  She found a parking place in the Grassmarket quite easily. For a long time she sat there at the wheel of the car staring up at the castle silhouetted against a black and threatening sky. She was shaking with exhaustion as the succession of sleepless nights caught up with her and suffering from the tension of her escape and the fast nervous drive down from Dunkeld. Now the anti-climax hit her. She had arrived in Edinburgh. No one knew where she was. She was safe. And she wasn’t sure what to do next.

  Trying to force her brain to work, she climbed out of the car and shrugged on her coat, shivering as the icy wind scythed up the street and through to her bones. She must try and find the offices of Earthwatch and see if Zak had made contact. If he hadn’t she had to ring him again, then she must find somewhere to stay. She stared up and down the street, wishing she had suggested any other place on earth for Zak to find her. But where else was there where Paul would not go?

  She began to walk slowly along the street. The chance of Neil Forbes being there was after all small. He was the type who was always away, always on the move, protesting at some site or the other. He was probably still at Duncairn. The office itself would be run by other people.

  She found it fairly easily in the end, beside a wine bar. There was a light on inside behind the curtains which obscured the window. Thrusting her hands deep into the pockets of her coat she pushed open the door.

  Neil Forbes was seated alone in the office, poring over a desk full of papers. For a moment he stared at her blankly, then he rose to his feet. ‘Mrs Royland?’ he said in disbelief. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure!’ His voice was cold.

  Shocked to find him there alone and hurt and angry at his tone she launched straight into her counter-attack, her anger and resentment of him returning with full force. ‘Why did you all have a meeting at Duncairn without telling me? And why did you tell the papers all those lies about me?’

  ‘If they were lies, which I beg to doubt, your husband fielded them skilfully enough!’ He did not smile. He came round the desk and leaning against it, folded his arms. ‘So, Mrs Royland, why have you come here?’

  She gritted her teeth. ‘I gave this address to a friend of mine as a place to find me. Zak de Sallis. Has he been here?’ She could not hide her anxiety.

  Neil raised an eyebrow. ‘How exotic! No, he hasn’t been here, and I would prefer it if you did not use this place as either a poste restante or a rendezvous for your lovers, Mrs Royland.’

  ‘He’s not my lover!’ Clare replied hotly.

  ‘Of course, I had forgotten. You are now fully reconciled with your husband.’

  ‘I have left my husband.’ Clare looked him straight in the eye. ‘I should be grateful if you would inform the press of my exact position over Duncairn, Mr Forbes. I am the sole owner of the property. Me, not Paul, and I do not intend to sell it! We did not at any time query my great aunt’s will, and I was delighted with my share of the bequest. You may also tell whatever branch of the newspapers which may be interested that I wholeheartedly support the Earthwatch camp
aign and that I shall be helping you if I can be of any use. And, for the record, I shall be seeking a divorce from my husband.’

  Neil whistled. ‘That sounds like a declaration of war!’

  Clare gave a tight smile. ‘I think that is what it is.’ She sat down abruptly on the chair by the door. ‘Will you help me?’ She couldn’t hide the slight tremor in her voice.

  Neil’s gaze was fixed thoughtfully on her face. Without any make-up her pale skin had a translucent quality he found very appealing. ‘In what way?’ he said cautiously.

  ‘I think Paul will try to find me again.’

  ‘What if he does? He can’t force you to go with him.’

  ‘He did last time.’ She looked away from his face, then quietly she told him what had happened at Duncairn.

  Neil listened in silence, his face darkening. ‘Are you telling me he has been keeping you locked up?’

  She grimaced. ‘It makes me sound very feeble, doesn’t it. I should have shinned down a knotted sheet or something.’

  He gave an unexpected laugh. ‘Indeed you should. I can see I’m going to have to send you on a survival course before we go much further. Tell me, where are you staying in Edinburgh?’

  She shrugged. ‘I wanted to avoid the hotels. That’s the first place he’ll look for me. I don’t want to stay with friends either, for the same reason. I thought perhaps I’d try a bed and breakfast.’

  ‘There is always my place.’ He had said it without thinking, then he realised that he meant it. Why not?

  ‘But your friend might object.’ Clare too spoke without first thinking that her words implied acceptance.

  Neil shook his head. ‘Kath is going off to a gig in London for the weekend.’ He pushed himself to his feet. ‘I tell you what. We’ll go over there now and get my spare key for you. Then we’ll go out for dinner later and draft a statement for the press tomorrow. How does that sound?’

  He locked up the office and led the way up the long flights of steps in Castle Wynd, and then turned down Castle Hill towards the Lawnmarket, not attempting to slow his pace for her, walking always a little ahead. She hurried breathlessly after him, dodging across the roads, ducking between the crowds of hurrying pedestrians and the cars as they sped by, their tyres rattling over the uneven sets in the road.

  His flat intrigued her: the roof-top views, the evidence of music and books everywhere, the untidiness, the well-equipped but shabby, ill-stocked kitchen. It was very obviously a man’s flat. There were few signs of Kathleen there. There was also no evidence of a spare room.

  Neil pushed open the door to the bedroom. ‘You can sleep in here. I’ll kip down on the sofa.’

  Clare frowned. ‘I’m putting you to an awful lot of trouble.’

  ‘Not at all. Hang on. I’ll find you some clean sheets.’ He smiled. ‘Paul won’t ever find you here.’

  She returned the smile uncomfortably. ‘No, I don’t suppose he will.’

  He dived into a drawer and produced a pair of dark blue sheets. ‘Where is your stuff?’

  ‘My stuff?’

  ‘Your suitcases.’

  Clare laughed out loud this time. ‘I’m travelling light. This is it.’ She indicated the bag on her shoulder.

  ‘What, no lines of porters with bundles on their heads? No camels? No pack donkeys? No servants?’ He sounded scandalised.

  She shook her head.

  ‘No dog?’

  ‘No dog.’ The expression on her face made him bite back the comment he was about to make. For a second the mask had slipped and he glimpsed the loneliness and uncertainty.

  ‘How did you get to Edinburgh?’ His voice was more gentle.

  ‘I stole my parents’ car.’

  ‘Stole it?’ He looked at her carefully. ‘Literally stole it?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Then you really did have to escape?’

  She nodded again.

  ‘And where is it now?’

  ‘Outside your office, on a meter.’

  Neil glanced heavenwards. ‘Bloody hell, woman! Anyone can see you’re no good at being devious. I tell you what. We’ll dump it somewhere tonight, then you can put the keys in the post to your parents. As long as you keep it, they can locate you through the police.’

  ‘The police!’ Her face went white.

  ‘If they really want to find you, all they have to do is report it stolen.’

  Clare bit her lip. Abruptly she sat down on the end of the bed. ‘Oh God! What am I going to do?’

  He sat down beside her. ‘You are serious about leaving Paul? Absolutely sure?’

  She nodded.

  ‘There will be no going back once we go into print.’

  ‘I am sure.’

  ‘OK. I had to check.’ He turned to her, and putting his hands on her shoulders, gave her a little shake. ‘Why did you ever marry the bastard?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Her eyes flooded with tears and she looked away from him, embarrassed, desperately groping in her pocket for a handkerchief. ‘I thought I loved him, I suppose –’

  ‘But you didn’t?’

  She shook her head mutely.

  ‘And now you love someone else?’

  Again she shook her head.

  ‘Then what opened your eyes?’

  ‘Seeing what it is like to be really in love, and seeing what he’s prepared to do to me. He’s never loved me. Not for a single moment.’

  ‘Seeing what it’s like to be in love?’ He frowned. ‘You mean someone you know is in love?’

  She bit her lip, and slowly she nodded. ‘Yes. Someone I know is in love.’

  Someone whose feelings she could share and watch and feel as though they were her own.

  She looked up at him wearily. ‘I’m afraid of Paul.’ The words were out before she could stop them.

  Neil swore under his breath. Impulsively he pulled her to him, his arm around her shoulders. ‘There’s no need to be any more. With a bit of luck you need never see the bastard again!’

  Her face, wet with tears, was close to his. He could smell her perfume – the perfume he remembered from Duncairn, the smell of the cool fragrance on her hair and her skin.

  Suddenly he realised how much he wanted her; how much he had wanted her since the first moment he had set eyes on her. Slowly he leaned towards her and kissed her on the mouth. She didn’t move. She sat absolutely still, every muscle taut, her eyes closed as if she was terrified even to breathe. He frowned, then gently he tried again, this time putting his arms around her properly, drawing her close to him. Her mouth opened almost unwillingly beneath his, but still she didn’t struggle, nor did she try to push him away as he eased her gently back on to the bed. He kissed her face exploratively, gently probing, touching her eyelids and nose with his lips and tongue, running his fingers through her hair and down the line of her neck. Then slowly he began to fumble with the zip of her dress.

  She lay still, not daring to move, her emotions in complete conflict. Half of her wanted to get up and slap his face and run, the other half wanted him to hold her, to make love to her, to make her feel wanted and alive, if only for a few brief moments. The hesitation was her undoing; she was realising that the feel of his hands was pleasant, even exciting. She felt him ease the straps of her bra off her shoulders, then his hands were on her breasts and she gasped as a knife-edged flicker of excitement shot through her.

  ‘I think we’ve been promising ourselves this for a long time,’ he murmured. He ducked his head to let his lips find her nipples.

  She opened her eyes as he sought out her mouth again, and suddenly she found herself clinging to him. She dug her nails into his shoulders, pulling him against her, thrusting her hips towards his, for the first time in her life driven by a strange blind frantic desire. She forgot where she was; she forgot who she was; she forgot that she hardly knew this man and that for the time she had known him she had disliked him intensely. All she knew was that she wanted him as she had never wanted anything or anyone
in her life before.

  It was over as quickly as it had started. Clare turned away from him, drawing her knees up towards her stomach defensively. She was shaking like a leaf.

  Neil sat up. He was tucking his shirt back into his trousers when he realised that she was crying.

  ‘Hey, what’s the matter? It was good wasn’t it?’ He felt suddenly guilty.

  She nodded miserably.

  ‘So, what the hell are you crying for?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Slowly she dragged herself upright. ‘Where’s the bathroom?’

  ‘Through there.’ He nodded towards the door. ‘What’s wrong, Clare?’ He caught her hand and swung her towards him. ‘Didn’t I come up to expectations?’ His guilt and the sight of her white, stricken face made him angry. ‘It was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Off with the husband, and on with the new. Let’s amuse ourselves with – what am I? A bit of the rough? In between Old Etonians?’ He stood up and strode over to the window, throwing up the lower casement. A blast of ice-cold air blew into the room.

  Clare was buttoning her dress. With shaking fingers she fumbled with the buckle on the belt. ‘It’s not like that!’ Suddenly she was angry too. ‘You have an awfully low opinion of yourself, haven’t you! Why the chip on the shoulder? Doesn’t your beautiful Irish lady rate you as a lover?’

  She stormed towards the bathroom door. There wasn’t a lock. With a sob of frustration she jammed a stool against the door then she sat down on the edge of the bath and turned both taps on full.

  Neil was sitting at the kitchen table when she came out at last. He had opened a bottle of wine. He pushed a glass towards her. ‘Beaujolais Nouveau,’ he said. ‘You won’t get vintage anything in this house. If you give me your car keys I know someone who is going across to Glasgow tonight. He’ll drive your parents’ car across and leave it near Queen Street station. With a bit of luck that will put them off the scent. They’ll think you’ve gone somewhere by train.’