Master of the Scrolls

by Benjamin Ford

  He dropped the glass, which shattered on the hard floor, and he moved slowly into the living room, walking dreamlike towards the sofa. Gloria smiled up at him as he approached, holding out her hand as he reached out for her. He crouched down before her, kissing her hand, kissing her throat, kissing her lips.

  ‘Oh Peter, how I have yearned so for your welcome embrace.’

  ‘Isabella, my darling, we have been patient, but now is our time. We were robbed of our life together, but now is the time for our love to be renewed; time for us to be set free.’

  They kissed, and it was like a thunderclap.

  Clawing at their clothes, they sank into the welcoming folds of passion atop the sofa, entwined, writhing, ecstatic – Peter and Isabella, joined as one.

  Of Phil and Gloria, only their aspect remained.

  *

  Mary would have been quite content to take a taxi from her daughter’s London home to her granddaughter’s in Neville Hill, but naturally, Rachel would not even entertain the idea. Mary knew that to argue would be futile, and secretly was rather glad her daughter would be with her. It might make the task ahead a little more palatable. Of course, if Gloria had actually read the entire manuscript then the impossible task would not even be necessary.

  They set off early, hoping to miss the worst of the Saturday morning traffic as day-trippers headed out of the City towards the coast, making the most of the glorious weather. Having already arranged a meeting with Daniel, Jeremy remained in London. Knowing why they were going to Gloria’s house, he felt it best they tackle it themselves, woman to woman. He would only get emotional and be in the way, so he was quite glad of his legitimate excuse to stay behind.

  Arriving in Neville Hill a little after nine, Rachel parked the silver Mercedes – a present from Gloria following the successful publication of her debut novel – opposite the old bridge that led to Gloria’s front gate. As she assisted Mary from the car, from the opposite direction they saw a familiar figure heading up the lane towards Gloria’s house.

  ‘Louise!’ called Rachel, waving at the approaching woman.

  Lost in thought, Louise glanced up at the sound of her name, momentarily startled. She grinned as she recognised the pair. ‘Hi,’ she greeted them cheerily, kissing each on a cheek. ‘Fancy seeing you here!’

  ‘I could say the same thing,’ laughed Rachel. ‘You’re supposed to be on a world trip!’

  ‘I cut it short,’ Louise replied, her smile faltering. ‘Please, don’t ask why. I’d rather not talk about it right now.’

  Rachel held up her hand in concordance. ‘As you wish. I guess you’re here to make your peace with Gloria. She told me you’d had a falling out, but wouldn’t elaborate. I don’t think either of you has had a cross word to say to each other your entire lives! It must have been a pretty bad fight!’

  ‘I know. I overreacted to something I heard her say on the phone the other morning.’

  ‘Tut-tut, Louise. Eavesdropping on another person’s phone call always leads to trouble, especially as you can only hear one side of the conversation.’

  ‘I realise that. I want to apologise in person, rather than on the phone. When I heard her arranging to meet some guy called Peter Neville, I just jumped to the conclusion that she was seeing him behind Allan’s back. My friend George has made me realise you can be mistaken about a great many things.’

  As Louise rambled on about how she had suddenly realised her feelings for George Palmer, she failed to notice the look of consternation that passed between mother and daughter at the mention of the name Peter Neville.

  ‘The really odd thing,’ continued Louise abstractedly, ‘is that when I tackled her about it she denied speaking on the phone to this Peter. She actually claimed she doesn’t know anyone by that name!’

  ‘She’s telling the truth, dear,’ sighed Mary sadly. ‘She doesn’t know Peter, not in the way you or I might know someone.’

  Louise frowned. ‘That doesn’t make sense!’

  ‘Believe me, nothing will make sense. I think you should perhaps hear what Rachel and I have come to tell Gloria.’

  Rachel had already dashed over the bridge and up the path, and was hammering on the door. ‘God, I hope we’re not too late!’

  ‘Relax, darling,’ cried Mary, as with Louise’s assistance she hobbled as fast as her tired old legs would carry her. ‘Don’t forget what I told you. She won’t be going anywhere just yet!’

  ‘Gloria’s going somewhere?’

  Rachel ignored Louise’s question. ‘That wasn’t what I meant. Supposing Isabella has returned, or supposing he is here!’

  ‘Who’s Isabella?’ demanded Louise crossly. ‘Will one of you please tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘Not now!’ snapped Rachel, not meaning to sound quite so rude. ‘Quick, we might be able to get in round the back!’ She set off around the side of the house with Mary and Louise struggling to keep up.

  They turned the corner to find Rachel standing outside the back door, rummaging in her handbag. ‘It’s locked, but I think I have my spare key.’

  ‘You can’t just barge in there, darling,’ admonished Mary softly.

  ‘Gloria gave it to me for use in an emergency,’ Rachel said brandishing the key as she withdrew it from her bag. ‘I think this constitutes an emergency.’ Fitting the key in the lock, she turned the handle and opened the door, stepping into the kitchen.

  Louise glanced at Mary uncertainly. ‘I’m not sure this is such a good idea.’

  ‘Neither am I, but it’s a bit late now.’

  They followed Rachel into the house, to find her staring, transfixed by something she could see in the living room. ‘What’s going on?’ whispered Louise. She and Mary followed Rachel’s gaze, and Louise immediately wished she had not. On the sofa, as naked as the day they were born, and entwined in each other’s arms with a look of contented happiness on both their faces, lay Gloria and a man whom only Mary and Rachel recognised as Phil, but whom Louise decided had to be the man she had heard Gloria talking with. ‘So this is Peter Neville! So much for not knowing anyone by that name!’

  ‘That’s the caretaker of Ravenscreag Hall, Phil McFadyen,’ muttered Rachel.

  ‘Peter – Phil – who cares what his name is!’ shrieked Louise. ‘Gloria’s cheating on Allan! That’s all I need to know!’

  She turned to leave, but Mary restrained her with remarkable strength for such a frail looking woman. ‘I think perhaps you should stay, my dear. Things are not always what they seem. Never take anything at face value. Look at them.’ She took hold of Louise’s chin and turned her head to face the tableau before her. ‘Look at them!’

  There was a kindness and sadness in Mary’s gentle voice that made Louise very reluctantly follow her command. She noticed that neither the man nor Gloria had stirred on the sofa. They must surely have heard Rachel pounding on the door. They must have heard her raised voice in the doorway leading from the kitchen. She turned away in disgust, unable to look any longer.

  ‘That’s not Gloria lying there, any more than it is Phil,’ sighed Mary.

  ‘Mrs Turner, I think I know Gloria when I see her, especially inside her own house!’

  ‘Look again, my dear.’ Mary’s forceful tone commanded such respectful compliance that Louise turned once more to face the living room.

  As she watched, the couple on the sofa shifted slightly.

  ‘Peter, I love you.’ The whispered voice from Gloria’s lips sounded oddly muffled.

  ‘As I love you, my darling Isabella,’ the man replied, tilting his head slightly to kiss Gloria’s lips.

  Then, finally, Louise understood some of what Mary and Rachel had intimated outside the house. ‘My God, they’re possessed!’ She felt physically sick at the notion.

  Tears fell from Rachel’s eyes, as for the first time she witnessed what she had known to be the truth, but had dared to hope would prove to be an unfounded figment of her mother’s old mind. She began to realise precious time was p
assing by, and she wanted to spend what time they had left together with her daughter, not Isabella. ‘I want my daughter back,’ she said loudly as she wiped away her tears.

  On the sofa, the entwined couple seemed unaware still that they had an audience.

  ‘Give me back my daughter!’ Rachel suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs, rushing forward, beating her hands against Phil’s back. She moved so suddenly that nobody had time to stop her.

  Louise rushed forward to pull Rachel away from the couple, having seen the sudden look of horror in Gloria’s eyes. ‘It’s okay, Mrs Schofield, I think she’s back,’ she whispered into Rachel’s ear. ‘I think Gloria’s returned to us!’

  The trio stepped back a discreet distance as Gloria tearfully gathered her clothes around her naked body, trembling with anxiety.

  Phil found himself on the floor in a daze, wondering what was going on. Noting Gloria’s fearful face, he at the same time realised there was someone standing behind him, watching. He turned, and his shock and horror was palpable as he saw Rachel, Mary and the other young woman in the doorway. He returned his gaze to Gloria. ‘What have we done?’ he whispered.

  ‘Get dressed, both of you,’ said Mary, her tone matter-of-fact, as she ushered her fellow interlopers into the kitchen. She closed the door behind them, allowing Gloria and Phil some privacy. ‘You are shocked?’ she said, directing her question at Louise.

  ‘Well… yes! I have never seen anything like that before. Naturally, I am shocked. Shocked and frightened!’

  ‘Then consider how scared Gloria and Phil must feel each time this happens to them,’ Mary added, her voice softening.

  ‘It’s happened before?’

  Mary nodded. ‘On Gloria’s recent visit to Ravenscreag Hall she was brought into contact with Phil for the first time. Isabella reunited with Peter at last. It is the beginning of the end.’

  ‘It’s the beginning of the end of what, Nana Turner?’

  They all turned to find Gloria, fully dressed, standing in the doorway with Phil silhouetted behind her, framed by the morning sunshine as it streamed through the front windows on the other side of the living room.

  ‘It’s the beginning of the end of what?’ she repeated forcefully when no one responded.

  ‘Of the family line, child,’ replied Mary. ‘It’s almost upon us, as I’ve known it would be for many years.’ Her voice was subdued with melancholy. ‘Yes, the end of the family line has finally come.’

  ‘I suppose that means I am shortly to be murdered, at the hand of Samuel Wylams?’

  Mary shook her head. ‘No, child, you are not going to be murdered.’

  ‘But what about what I read – what you told me, while we were at Ravenscreag Hall? You told me my destiny. You said I was possessed by the spirit of Isabella Neville, Trevayne, or whatever the hell she wants to call herself; that my destiny is to relive her last days, which surely means I am to die at the hands of Samuel Wylams!’

  ‘Well,’ said Louise softly, ‘we know you’re possessed by Isabella’s spirit. We’ve all seen that for ourselves.’

  Glancing in Louise’s direction, Gloria saw in her friend’s eyes understanding and forgiveness for a deed not perpetrated by her own actions.

  ‘But if Wilma’s dead, surely the prophecy cannot be fulfilled?’ said Phil, stepping forward slightly, still feeling ashamed at what had transpired.

  Louise shook her head. ‘Now you’ve lost me. Who’s Wilma?’

  ‘Phil’s sister,’ replied Mary. ‘Perhaps it would be better if we were all seated. There is much to tell. And maybe some tea, Phil, if you wouldn’t mind.’

  Phil nodded and headed for the sink to fill the kettle while the others returned to the living room. He thought they would start without him, but when he followed them minutes later, tray laden with a steaming teapot, cups, spoons, milk and sugar, he found them all sitting silently. ‘I just want to say, I’m really sorry for what happened,’ he said, setting down the tray on the table in the middle of the room. He poured out the drinks, handing them around.

  ‘You have no need to apologise, Phil,’ Mary said with a reassuring pat on his hand as he handed her a cup. ‘You’ve no more been in control of yourself than Gloria has been in control of herself. Are you all right?’

  ‘I think so,’ replied Phil as he seated himself as far from Gloria as possible. ‘He’s still here, in my mind. I can sort of feel him.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Phil, Peter won’t stay with you forever. When Gloria fulfils her destiny, Isabella’s spirit will leave her, and Peter will have no more use for your body.’

  ‘So,’ said Louise with irritated eagerness, desperate to understand everything that was going on, ‘you were speaking of this man’s sister, Wilma?’

  ‘We thought Wilma was the reincarnation of Samuel Wylams, some horrid man who’s been tormenting Isabella,’ said Gloria. ‘She’s dead now.’

  ‘If the prophecy was that you will die by his hand as Isabella did, surely the fact that he’s gone means the prophecy is obsolete?’

  Gloria shook her head. ‘No, Phil. I know now what Samuel Wylams looks like. He was a powerful warlock, and I think his spirit must somehow have merely hitched a ride to Wilma’s body because of her relationship to you, but I believe he really has been truly reincarnated in this time, and he’s still very much alive.’

  ‘But who is he?’ cried Louise. ‘In our time, I mean!’

  ‘I’d rather not say,’ Gloria said, her voice low, ‘so please don’t ask me that again. Anyway, that seems to have become rather irrelevant.’ She returned her attention to her grand-mother, who solemnly regarded her in silence. ‘So, if I’m not going to be murdered, then you haven’t told me the truth, have you, Nana Turner? And I have to wonder why.’

  ‘I told you to read the book, didn’t I? Everything you need to know is in there.’

  ‘Yes, and I have been reading it, but whenever I do, strange things seem to happen.’

  ‘So you haven’t finished it?’

  ‘What book is this?’ interjected Louise.

  ‘One that Isabella wrote,’ Mary replied.

  ‘One Isabella started; one she never finished! So, Nana Turner, you are obviously here for a reason. Are you going to save me the trouble of reading it and tell me what’s really going on?’

  Mary took a deep breath, and everyone leaned forward eagerly. ‘I left it for as long as I could before telling you what I did because I had to be certain you are the one. I told you what I did, because the truth is even more unbelievable than the thought that you are possessed by the spirit of a dead woman.’ She paused, looking around the group, sensing she had their rapt and undivided attention. ‘Yes, you are possessed, as is Phil and yes, the evil spirit is also here, ready to once more try and kill Isabella, but he will fail. Your destiny, Gloria, lies not in this time, but in the past. Don’t ask me how, for even I don’t know the answer to that one, but you are the second wife of James Trevayne, and you are protected by Isabella’s spirit, cursed as she was to wander through time until she returned to the embrace of her one true love.’

  Mary turned to Phil. ‘I hope you can hear me in there, Peter. You are deluded if you truly believe you are Isabella’s one true love. You were a mere illicit infatuation to her, a dalliance, nothing more. James Trevayne, her husband, is her one true love, and when Gloria makes her way to him, Isabella shall be freed from her curse and her spirit may rest in peace.’

  ‘So I am vital to this?’ said Gloria. ‘Without me, Isabella can never be free?’

  Mary shook her head. ‘No, and if she is not freed then she will continue to plague you, as Peter will continue to haunt poor Phil. You must fulfil your destiny, for your sake as well as Isabella’s, and for Phil’s sake too.’

  ‘And what happens to me then?’

  Mary sighed under a weight of great sadness. ‘You are James Trevayne’s second wife, Ria. I think you know what happens to her!’

  Gloria was aghast. ‘Oh, that’s just gre
at! Out of the frying pan and into the fire – literally!’

  Louise was still struggling to comprehend what was going on. ‘Why? What happens to this Ria woman?’

  ‘She and James are burned alive, along with their child!’

  Everyone looked at Gloria. She was remarkably calm for someone who had just found out she was not going to be stabbed to death after all, but was instead to be burned alive.

  A suddenly brilliant suggestion sprang to Louise’s mind. ‘Hang on a minute, if all this really is true – and I’m still reserving judgment on all this time travel crap, but just for the sake of argument, we’ll agree that it’s all fact and not fiction. Well, if that is the case then Gloria has the ability to travel through time, and if she can do that then she can leave whenever she wants and return home!’

  ‘Providing,’ said Mary carefully, ‘she wants to return here!’

  Louise snorted contemptuously. ‘Well, why wouldn’t she want to return? After all, she has family, and she has Allan, who is the love of her life!’

  ‘But I don’t know how the time travel stuff works,’ said Gloria gloomily, ‘and Nana Turner said she didn’t know, so it’s obviously not written in Isabella’s book, which means if I do travel back in time it’s accidental, and that means I probably won’t be able to use the same method as and when I want!’ She did not want to add that perhaps she might actually fall in love with this James Trevayne in the past.

  There was a long silence after that. Nobody knew what to say.

  ‘I think perhaps we should let Gloria get some rest,’ said Rachel, looking at her daughter’s ashen face in concern. They all stood, except Phil. ‘I think you should come and stay with us in London, Phil, and then return to Scotland tomorrow.’

  Phil looked at Gloria, who nodded with a slight smile. ‘You go, Phil. I’ll be fine. We don’t want another repetition!’

  ‘Darling, you call us if you need anything,’ said Rachel, hugging her daughter tightly, not wanting to let go.

  ‘And I’m only down the lane at George’s cottage,’ said Louise.

  Gloria laughed. ‘Now that I still can’t believe!’