by S. B. Hayes
‘Why would you know? It’s not the kind of topic people discuss.’
‘So … another dead end,’ I groaned. ‘I was hoping for some sort of sign … I don’t know what … but something significant.’
‘Are you going to tell me who she is, Kat, or do I have to guess?’
I looked far away into the distance, breathing in the woody smell of pine cones mixed with moist earth. I didn’t know whether it was the beautiful moonlit night or because Luke seemed more approachable than usual, but I didn’t even attempt to modify my supernatural tale. Laying myself open to complete ridicule, I filled him in on the background to the story of Thomas Winter, my voice barely above a whisper because every sound seemed magnified here.
‘You did that all on your own?’ He sounded genuinely impressed.
‘Well … Mum gave me some ideas,’ I admitted.
‘And this guy made up the spooky tale to enthral everyone?’
My cheeks filled with air like a gargoyle’s until I blew out again. ‘Seems so.’
‘But … you can’t think so, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.’
Luke could read me so well that it was impossible to hide things from him.
‘When I read his account … I was certain he was telling the truth.’
‘Because you felt it in your bones,’ he teased.
I studied his face in the velvet darkness as I prepared to drop the latest bombshell. ‘There’s something else … a link I only just discovered tonight. The vicar’s wife said that Genevieve’s children’s home was actually “Martinwood”, the same haunted house Thomas Winter wrote about.’
Luke cracked his knuckles, which sounded like someone stepping on twigs and always made me cringe. ‘OK, then. Tell me your theory,’ he encouraged.
The moon disappeared behind a cloud as I began speaking, and it helped that I could no longer see Luke’s face. ‘I think that everything in Thomas Winter’s column was true,’ I began earnestly, ‘and he retracted his story because something … well … happened.’
‘Something or someone,’ Luke hissed, and blew on the back of my neck, making me jump into the air.
‘OK … someone,’ I agreed. ‘Martinwood is the link between Greta the witch and Genevieve.’
Luke began to splutter as he realized what I meant. ‘You don’t mean that Genevieve and Greta … they’re the same?’
‘Maybe,’ I muttered defensively. ‘And after Thomas disturbed all the … er … devices to protect the house, the evil was kind of … unleashed, and she came for him …’
‘And held him prisoner until he retracted his story,’ Luke chortled.
I moved my eyebrows up and down, and put on a spooky voice. ‘Mysterious and destructive happenings follow in Genevieve’s wake …’
‘It has to come back to Genevieve, doesn’t it?’ Luke commented sadly. ‘You just can’t shake her off.’
I paused for a moment. ‘Maybe … she really does know me from somewhere.’
‘You never met her until she joined your college, Kat.’
I put on a low, portentous voice. ‘Maybe not in this life.’
Luke made a noise somewhere between a groan and a guffaw.
‘OK then,’ I challenged, ‘how is it I recognize places I’ve never been and have this weird déjà-vu feeling around Genevieve?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘But … if history is repeating itself and the witch has returned to continue her 300-year-old search, or vendetta … then you don’t have long to worry.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she died at the age of sixteen.’
This hadn’t occurred to me before. I clammed up and chewed my lip thoughtfully.
‘Kat Rivers,’ Luke said with mock exasperation, ‘you’re so infuriating, maddeningly wilful and … completely bonkers.’
I wasn’t offended and laughed softly. I scrunched up my face and sucked in some more of the outdoor aroma. I could detect lingering woodsmoke and noticed a pile of leaves and brush in one corner with a rake still beside them.
‘It feels like we’re the only two people in the world tonight,’ I said with wonder. ‘Isn’t this the strangest place? I know there’s a wall, but if you look into the distance the graveyard seems to extend forever … right into the wood.’
‘Just an optical illusion,’ Luke murmured.
‘And this church has been here since the twelfth century. Imagine what it’s seen.’
He grinned. ‘Not sure I want to.’
The hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood up. ‘Luke, what was that? I heard voices.’
He grabbed my hand and we ducked down and made our way towards the far wall of the graveyard, which was covered in climbing ivy and other creepers. There definitely were voices, sounding loud and strident, which indicated that we’d been spotted. I thought I heard the gate opening and footsteps coming our way. My heart was thumping so loudly it must surely have been audible.
Luke will sort it out, I told myself. It’s not as if we’re doing any damage. He can talk his way out of anything. There was a definite rustling now and it seemed to be coming from all sides, which meant we would soon be surrounded. The moment when we’d have to explain ourselves was getting closer, and I gave Luke a jittery, worried glance. He closed his eyes and tensed up as if he was about to jump into action. The last thing I expected was for him to lunge forward, put both arms tightly around me and sucker his lips to mine.
‘Pretend to enjoy it,’ I think he whispered.
It wasn’t just a peck, but a long, lingering, searching kiss that I couldn’t help but respond to. My lips automatically parted, my head tilted to one side and my hands reached for his neck. One of us was even moaning slightly, and I was horrified that it might be me. Kissing Luke felt so normal that this was scary in itself. We stayed this way for at least five minutes until I heard a deep voice laugh. ‘Just love-struck kids. Leave them be.’ Footsteps moved away and then there was silence.
I finally summoned the strength to push Luke away and sank to the ground to get my breath back and stop my knees trembling.
‘Sorry about that, Kat,’ he announced breezily. ‘It’s what they always do in the movies when they’re trying to escape attention, and it seemed to work this time.’
‘Good idea,’ I panted, unable to look at him.
‘You look so freaked,’ he laughed. ‘I was a bit jumpy myself, but we got away with it.’
I stayed on the ground, still trying to compose myself, unsure which had affected me more – the threat of irate villagers or Luke’s kiss. For support, I rested my hand on a piece of stone about a metre from the wall. It was only when I rose that I noticed worn lettering among lichen spores and overgrown foliage. It must be an old gravestone that had sunk into the soft earth at an angle, leaving a wedge shape sticking up.
‘Wow, look at this.’
I sank on to my haunches and Luke did the same.
‘Can you decipher the name?’ I asked him.
He shook his head and looked at me pointedly. ‘Only the letter G is visible, Kat, but don’t read anything into that.’
‘There’s a number though,’ I said triumphantly, tracing my finger across the worn sandstone. ‘A number one and … a six. This grave dates from the sixteen hundreds. This is one person who wasn’t dug up.’
‘You might be right,’ Luke responded, ‘but I’ve found something more interesting. Look at this.’
He moved aside one of the trailing plants and I could see the shape of a hand clearly chiselled into the stone.
‘What is it? I mean, it’s obviously a hand, but what does that mean?’
Luke stood up and cupped his hands around his face with a pained expression. ‘I’ve seen it before. I’m trying to remember.’
I stayed silent as he paced about, kicking his heels against the bricks. He eventually punched his fist in the air triumphantly.
‘I never forget a story. It was Halloween when I read about it – all the crazy ghost ta
les surface then – and this was about a cemetery somewhere in the Midlands that showed carvings of hands and feet. The locals say they’re the mark of a witch, and the belief is that whoever can fit their own hand or foot into the imprint will come to serious misfortune.’
‘And you believe that?’ I asked with an involuntary shiver, quickly moving my hand away in case it followed the same lines as the carving.
‘Of course not, but … it could explain why Thomas retracted his story. If the grave was discovered, together with his findings, hordes of ghost and witch hunters would descend on the village.’
‘Suppose,’ I answered doubtfully.
Luke gazed skywards and I had the strongest urge to wrap my arms around him again. It’s only Luke, I told myself, but tonight it was as if someone else had taken his place. It was utterly bewildering.
‘Is that the North Star, Kat?’
I looked at him askance. ‘I don’t have a clue.’
‘Something else that might spook you.’ He smiled. ‘If this part of the graveyard is north-facing, then it’s called the Devil’s side.’
‘You’re not serious?’ I burst out. ‘Why?’
‘It’s where the unbaptised, suicides and the excommunicated used to be buried in unmarked graves.’
This seemed so horribly sad and I didn’t want to stay any longer. It was time to put some distance between the two of us. My voice was clipped. ‘We really should go. I shouldn’t have brought you here tonight – it was just a stupid whim.’
‘Kat, look at me.’ Luke’s voice made me stop in my tracks and turn slowly around. His face displayed none of the usual jokiness. ‘Tonight was kind of … different … but it has to stop here. I’m worried about you.’
‘I don’t really believe in all this,’ I fibbed. ‘It was just a good yarn to impress my favourite journalist.’
He wasn’t fooled. ‘Come on, Kat. Promise me you’ll let all this go,’ he begged. ‘Thomas Winter and his decrepit house and all the other supernatural past-life stuff?’
‘I promise,’ I answered solemnly, and meant it. Luke was right, this was all much too crazy to dwell on any longer and there was nowhere left to go with it. I had to give it up.
As we got back into Luke’s car and left the village I looked back only once, and noticed a black and white timber-framed building on a small incline, encased in scaffolding. Warning notices were attached to the metal gates that blocked access, and it looked like a building site. I remembered the photograph and had no doubts as to its name – ‘Martinwood’, abandoned again.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Sleep was heavy and dreamless that night, so heavy it felt as if I’d never be dragged back to consciousness. Light filtering through my thin bedroom curtains eventually woke me at about ten and I lay under the warmth of my duvet thinking things through. I now knew more about Genevieve. She had a background and a history, which meant that I had more ammunition to fight her. In the cold light of day I wasn’t completely convinced she was capable of murder, but Luke and I had confirmation that she was disturbed and needed help.
‘You look bright this morning,’ Mum trilled as I came downstairs. She studied me critically. ‘But you’ve lost weight … You must try to eat more.’
She insisted on cooking me a proper breakfast, and it felt nice to relax and be waited on. Mum definitely seemed to be making an effort since we’d had our talk. She hadn’t complained nearly as much and had already been to see the doctor to try a new form of therapy. I was optimistic that things were going to improve.
‘Everyone was looking for you yesterday,’ she beamed, setting a plate of scrambled eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and toast in front of me.
‘Everyone?’
‘Nat, Hannah … Merlin. They couldn’t get hold of you on your mobile and sounded quite frantic.’
My hands flew to my face, remembering my date with Merlin. I hadn’t even contacted him to let him know it was off, but … there would be plenty of time to make it up to him at Nat’s.
‘The reception was awful, Mum, then I lost signal completely and switched off. I was worried about not letting you know how late we’d be.’
‘I don’t fret when you’re out with Luke,’ she answered. ‘How was your trip?’
I waved my hand impatiently. ‘It was great, but what did everyone want?’
‘Oh, something about a party.’
I was relieved it wasn’t anything else. ‘Nat’s birthday thing is today. They’ve probably changed the time or something. I’ll ring her later.’
When I turned on my mobile there were eight or nine missed calls and as many texts. One voicemail was from Hannah, high-pitched and excited with lots of background noise. It sounded like, ‘Katy, can’t believe you’re not here, ring me urgently.’ Hannah had always been a bit of a drama queen. I tried her phone, but it was switched off. Merlin and Nat were unavailable as well so it seemed best to stick to the plan and wander over to Nat’s house at about midday. I noticed Mum in the garden burning the last of the fallen leaves in a small incinerator. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to get rid of the pendant once and for all. When she wasn’t looking I popped it into the funnel to smoulder into dust. Today felt like a definite new beginning for me.
The sky was blindingly blue with whipped-cream clouds and a first frost that lingered, making everywhere look crisply beautiful. I took my time and walked through the park, even stopping to watch ducks foraging for food in the lake and smiling at a little girl throwing bread into the water. Because of Genevieve I’d abandoned my coat and stuffed it at the back of my wardrobe. I wore a thick knitted jumper over a shirt that was tucked into my jeans. My wardrobe wasn’t extensive like Hannah’s, but since my weight loss all my clothes fitted me differently, and I could feel myself gliding along instead of my usual untidy shuffle. It was a heady feeling to be happy in my own skin. On the way I looked for faces in the clouds, which was one of my hobbies, although I’d never tell anyone because it was so weird.
Nat’s house had a strange deserted look about it and the downstairs curtains were still closed. I was left on the doorstep for ages until her mum answered the door.
‘Katy? Goodness. Nat’s still in bed, exhausted. You must be too. I’m surprised you’re up so early.’
I stared at her blankly. It was already after midday. Nat’s cat cushion, wrapped in three sheets of foil paper, was in one hand, and my contribution to the lunch, an enormous strawberry cheesecake, in the other. Nat’s mum seemed to realize that I didn’t know what she was talking about. There was embarrassment on her face as she ushered me in, making soothing noises about waking her daughter to explain. She disappeared upstairs.
Explain what? I was already late. Merlin and Hannah should be here, but the house was deathly quiet: no balloons, no presents strewn about and no cooking smells from the kitchen. A voice called down to me.
‘You can come up now, Katy.’
I climbed the stairs and opened the door a few centimetres. Nat’s bedroom was just like her – messy, colourful and warm; lots of different styles going on that should have clashed but seemed to work well together. The blind was pulled down and I could just about make out a figure lying in the bed. The thought suddenly occurred to me that she must be ill but no one had been able to reach me to let me know. I moved nearer now, taking in her pallor and the dark-circled eyes that could barely focus.
‘You look awful,’ I said sympathetically. ‘Is it flu?’
She put one hand across her forehead and croaked something inaudible.
I rested the present gently on the bed. ‘I should leave you to get some sleep. Sorry about your birthday lunch. We can always do it next weekend.’
‘Katy … don’t go.’
Nat tried to sit up in bed and I peered closely at her. I noticed that her dark eyes were the result of smudged mascara and her paleness was thick make-up, which was also smeared across her pillow. Her hair was a tangled mess and there were bits of coloured stream
ers nestled inside.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she muttered, taking a large gulp from a glass of water on her bedside cabinet. ‘We tried to contact you loads of times. I knew nothing about it … the party was all a surprise, and Merlin said you were due back in the evening.’
‘Party?’ I questioned. ‘Here?’
‘No … it was at Merlin’s house.’
‘Merlin’s house?’ I repeated, almost falling off the bed in shock.
Nat’s voice returned in a torrent. ‘His mum had a marquee in the garden, some social evening for her students, and Genevieve persuaded her to throw a surprise party for me. Wasn’t that sweet of her? It was all last-minute, and most of the food was leftovers, but …’
She stopped because she must have noticed my reaction. I felt sick with disappointment, envy, hurt, anger and just about every bad emotion I’d ever felt in my whole life. Merlin’s house was amazing, like a stately home, and even more so with him in it. The thought of everyone partying there without me was unbearable – like someone had punched me in the stomach.
‘Where did you go, Katy? We spent, like, forever trying to reach you.’
Something weird had happened to my face. It was tight, as though I was wearing a face pack and couldn’t smile or frown in case it cracked. I could barely open my mouth to speak.
‘I got held up … it couldn’t be helped. Luke and I had to wait around to talk to someone.’ Nat watched me intently and I tried desperately to sound normal and save some little pride. ‘What was the party like then?’
She rubbed her eyes and stretched, a dreamy smile playing around her lips. ‘It was incredible. Merlin’s mum didn’t mind how many people came, and once the word spread the list grew and almost everyone turned up. The night was cold but they had patio heaters and Christmas lights and a live band who could play anything from classical to rock. It was great being outdoors under the moon and stars and dancing on the lawn until four this morning, when I collapsed and had to be carried home … by Adam.’