The Soft Whisper of Dreams

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The Soft Whisper of Dreams Page 11

by Christina Courtenay


  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’m just so glad you’re alive. You will be careful from now on, won’t you?’

  Maddie was even more convinced Jane was covering up for her father and wondered if he’d threatened her too somehow? She’d said he had a hold over her mother – did he have one over Jane as well? Either way, Jane obviously wasn’t going to tell Maddie anything else at the moment so she gave up on this line of questioning. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere alone for quite some time, believe me. Have you made any progress with the other thing we discussed?’

  ‘What? Oh that. No, but as a matter of fact I’m going to see someone this afternoon who might be able to help. I’ll try to call you this evening if I can.’

  ‘Where are you calling from now? You sound a bit far away.’

  ‘I’m in a phone box in town, but if my father goes out this evening I’ll be able to call from home. If not, I’ll try tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks so much for doing this, Jane. Bye.’

  After she had hung up, Maddie went to lie down on top of her bed. She was still a bit shaky and there was a dull ache throbbing in her arm. The doctor had told her she might have nightmares or suffer a delayed reaction to the shock. He’d given her some tranquillisers, but she preferred not to take them. She decided rest would be a better option.

  There was a knock on the door and she called, ‘Come in.’

  Alex popped his head round the door. ‘Am I disturbing you?’

  ‘No, not at all. I’m just resting. My wrist is a bit painful. And my head.’

  ‘You were lucky it wasn’t broken.’ He came into the room and shut the door behind him. Slowly he approached the bed and perched at the end of it.

  ‘Yes. Lucky it was my left one too. At least I can still paint.’

  He was silent for a while, staring out the window, then he drew in a deep breath. ‘Maddie, have you remembered anything more about your assailant?’

  ‘No. I never saw whoever it was. I just heard a rustling noise, that was all.’

  ‘Have you any idea who it might be? I mean, is there anyone who would wish you harm?’

  Maddie looked away. ‘Not that I know of. I’m sure it was just some looney who couldn’t resist. I must have looked tempting bending over like that and the fact that I was all alone in the woods.’ She turned back to Alex and saw him smile and shake his head. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s just that I could understand it if someone walked past and found you tempting, but not in the sense that they would want to hit you on the head,’ he said, then added, ‘Sorry, I know you don’t want to hear stuff like that from me.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Oh.’ Maddie could feel the heat of a blush creeping across her cheeks.

  ‘God though, Maddie, women are attacked all the time these days, whenever they’re caught anywhere alone, but it doesn’t make sense to knock you out and then put you down a mine shaft. It must have taken quite a lot of strength to even get you there, and what would be the point? I mean, he should have tried to ... first … oh, hell. Maybe he meant to come back.’ He rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand.

  ‘I know what you mean and I agree. It doesn’t make sense, unless it was someone who’s deranged. But that is what happened.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to tell the police about this?’

  ‘Not yet, no.’ She held up her hand. ‘And before you ask, I have my reasons, okay? Besides, what good would it do? They wouldn’t have anything to go by.’

  ‘Someone might have seen something, or there might be clues on the ground or in that pit. The forensic people do a great job these days.’

  ‘No, I didn’t see a single person the whole afternoon. No one goes up that way except us. It’s Marcombe land. Private, isn’t it? Leave it, Alex. I’ll be careful from now on.’

  He stood up and came over to take her hand. ‘Make sure you are. Kayla would never forgive me if I lost you while she was gone.’ But the look he gave her said something entirely different. It told her he was the one who didn’t want to lose her and that confused her no end. Did he really care that much?

  She spent the rest of the afternoon pondering this question, but didn’t reach any satisfactory conclusion.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘I’m going to Dartmouth this morning, but I should be back by lunchtime.’

  Maddie sent Alex a challenging look across the breakfast table, as if to say ‘I can take care of myself.’ But could she? He wasn’t sure.

  Perhaps she’d be safe in the anonymity of a crowd, but if there really was someone stalking her, that person could still follow. And if Maddie was ever alone anywhere, he or she could strike again … It didn’t bear thinking of.

  God, we’re not talking about a prank here! Whoever had hurt Maddie and put her in that pit had surely intended her to die. Or at least to suffer, stuck down there without food or water. There was no way she could have climbed out, even with a wrist that wasn’t sprained. It was pure luck that he and Foster had gone that way to look for her. The place they’d found her painting materials had indicated she’d gone the other way and her assailant had obviously put her bag there to mislead them. It was sheer chance that had made Alex take the other way home, just in case.

  He bent his head so Maddie wouldn’t see the worry that must be clear in his eyes. Damn it. He couldn’t lock her up inside, that would just be stupid.

  ‘I saw danger, evil stalking her’, Romar had said. Alex suppressed a shiver of foreboding as the gypsy’s words suddenly came back to him. Perhaps she’d just meant Maddie being bashed on the head and that was all. But supposing it was just the beginning? Maybe he should go with her? He could come up with some excuse as to why he needed to go to Dartmouth as well. But she’d see through that, he was sure.

  No, he’d just have to tell Foster to pay extra attention so Maddie didn’t give him the slip. He trusted his friend. It would have to be enough.

  Maddie set off, excitement mingling with dread inside her. Jane had called at last and asked to meet her. They’d arranged for Maddie to pick Jane up on the outskirts of town as before and she couldn’t wait to hear what the girl had to say. Had she found the answer at last?

  Jane was waiting patiently in a bus shelter by the side of the road, almost completely hidden from view. Maddie stopped the car to let her jump in, and drove off as quickly as possible. Jane scanned the road behind them, but there were no other cars or people in sight and she heaved a sigh of relief.

  ‘Thank God, I don’t think anyone saw me. I told Mother I was going to see a friend,’ she said. ‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’

  ‘Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away. You sounded like you’d found something out.’

  ‘I did. At least, I think I did. Try and find somewhere to park and I’ll tell you.’

  They turned into a small side road and soon found a quiet place to stop. Maddie switched off the engine and turned to Jane with ill-concealed impatience.

  ‘So? What did you find?’

  ‘Well, I went to see Mrs Graham, like I told you. She’s in her seventies, and boy can she talk. I think she’s the worst gossip in town. Anyway, most of the time she just goes on and on about people I’ve never heard of and I nod and say “um-hmm” every once in a while. But yesterday I decided to do a little probing and I said to her that there was so much gossip around and most of it was never true anyway. You hear the strangest things, I told her, and said that I’d heard the funniest thing about my mother the other day, which couldn’t possibly be right.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I could see Mrs Graham prick up her ears immediately. She’s always very interested in any new information. She asked what I’d heard, so I told her a senile old lady had said my mother had had another baby before me. I pretended I thought it was a joke and laughed at the whole thing, but Mrs Graham went very quiet. “What’s the matter?” I asked her, and for a moment there I thought she wasn’t going to tell me. T
hen the urge to pass on a really juicy bit of gossip overcame her and she whispered to me that she thought it was true.’

  ‘No, really?’

  ‘Yes. Of course I acted all horrified and that pleased her no end. She likes to be the first with any news and if she manages to shock someone, so much the better. Then she said there’d been a rumour going around that my mother had had an affair with someone and become pregnant. Of course my father had tried to squash any such gossip, but the fact was my mother had gone away for quite a while, apparently to visit her relatives. When she came back she was a changed woman. And my father’s sermons grew much more severe, after that. Pure fire and brimstone, she said.’

  ‘And when did all this take place?’

  ‘Mrs Graham said it was twenty-seven years ago. She was dead certain, because that was the year her oldest grandchild was born and he’s twenty-seven next month.’

  They stared at each other. ‘Oh, Jane,’ Maddie managed at last. ‘I suppose if we don’t have the same father that explains a lot. But why on earth didn’t she leave yours and stay with mine?’

  ‘I wondered the same thing and I think I know why.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. My father would have killed her rather than let her go.’

  Jane’s words echoed round Maddie’s head on the way back to Dartmouth, and after she’d let Jane off at the bus stop, she continued automatically to the car park. She didn’t really need to do any shopping, but she had to do something. Anything to take her mind off the recent happenings and revelations. Window gazing would do in the absence of anything else.

  Walking slowly along the row of shops and boutiques, she stopped now and then to finger an item or admire some piece of clothing. An hour later, the intense heat drove her into the newsagents and she bought an ice cold drink. It was heaven.

  She drank thirstily, then lowered the bottle and headed for the door. Halfway there she stopped, petrified into immobility by the sight of the Reverend Saul Blake-Jones who looked so much like the dark man in her dreams. He stopped by the door, as frozen as herself for a moment. His face showed surprise, then instant rage, and he fixed her with the most evil glare she had ever received. It was pure hatred and it was definitely directed at her.

  The black eyes burned into hers, scorching her very soul, then after one last look of distaste he turned and left without making a purchase. Maddie found that her legs were shaking and she must have turned pale because someone asked if she was all right.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine, thanks. Just the heat.’ She stumbled towards the door and out into the fresh air. Leaning against the wall, she drew in deep gulps of air, trying to stem the rising tide of panic which threatened to overcome her. Snatches of her dream came back to haunt her and she was almost certain it was the same man. The Reverend Blake-Jones. The man who hated her. Had she met him when she was a child? She must have done. There could be no doubt about it. And a look like that would have stayed with any child, she was sure. No wonder he figured in her nightmares.

  Maddie rapidly came to the conclusion that old Mrs Graham must have been right and the reason for the man’s deep feelings of aversion towards her was his wife’s infidelity. As a man of God, he clearly had stronger views on the subject than most people, but were they strong enough for him to want her dead?

  Enough to murder me?

  She’d been afraid at first that it was Ruth, her mother, who had been her attacker, which was another reason for her reluctance to take the matter to the police initially. But when Alex said whoever it was would have had to be very strong to carry her down into the mine shaft, she’d realised it couldn’t be a woman. Now she was sure the perpetrator had been Ruth’s husband. It had to be. His surprise at seeing her just then had been genuine and the anger which swiftly followed was understandable if he thought he’d killed her or trapped her in the pit, but found out he had failed.

  ‘Dear God, what do I do now?’ she muttered. What could she do? She had no proof, none whatsoever, except for her own intuition. She couldn’t even prove that she was Mrs Blake-Jones’s daughter since her birth mother seemed terrified of the very sight of her. Although she supposed the police could order a blood test. Did she really want to ruin her birth mother’s life though? Because she was sure that if any of this came out into the open, Ruth Blake-Jones would suffer severe consequences. Her husband might divorce her, or worse, just make her life hell. His congregation would shun her as a sinner. And Blake-Jones himself might get off scot free. No doubt he’d claim he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  There was nothing for it. She would just have to be on her guard until Kayla returned and then she had to pack her bags and escape from Devon for good. Perhaps even from England. She couldn’t stay. There must be somewhere in the world where she’d be safe from the Reverend Blake-Jones

  She intended to find that haven.

  The front door to the vicarage slammed shut with a resounding crash which reverberated round all the rooms. Jane and her mother were sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a cup of tea and they both looked up to stare at each other in dawning horror.

  ‘Oh, no. Please God, no ...’ Ruth whispered. Jane could hear her mother’s voice trembling and felt the fear build up inside herself. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to remain calm, but only succeeded on the outside. Inside she was terrified.

  ‘Shhh,’ she whispered back. ‘Stay quiet.’

  But it was no use, she knew that. When her father was in one of his black moods, he needed a scapegoat, and it was always one or other of the same two people. He came storming into the kitchen, with a face like an enraged tiger, and hauled the petrified Ruth out of her chair. Before she had time to utter a single word, he began to shake her as if she weighed nothing at all.

  ‘It. Didn’t. Work!’ he roared. ‘The spawn of Satan is still alive!’ His eyes glittered strangely and he appeared to be in the grip of insanity.

  Jane choked back a gasp and turned her face away. She was sure she knew who he was referring to and it made her both sad and furious that she’d been right in her assumptions. Thank the good Lord her sister was all right.

  ‘Wh-wha-at are y-you t-talk-ing ab-bout?’ Ruth managed to ask between rattling teeth. Her husband continued to shake her, then slammed her into the nearest cupboard.

  ‘Your sins, you whore,’ he spat at her. ‘They have come back to haunt us, as I knew they would. I never should have listened to your begging. It should have ended then and there, as I said. Then none of this would be happening. Jezebel!’ He backhanded Ruth across the cheek and with a moan she slid down to the floor. Jane knew it was time to intervene and steeled herself.

  I can stand it for Mother’s sake. Aloud she said, ‘Father, for the love of God ...’

  He turned on her, as she had known he would. She’d learned that she could always deflect his anger towards herself and thereby spare her mother some of the punishment. ‘Do you dare to take the Lord’s name in vain in this house?’ In two strides he was by her side and it was her turn to be backhanded. Gritting her teeth she glared at him defiantly and turned the other cheek.

  On a good day, this trick would sometimes work to remind him of his position as a minister. However, on a bad day it only fuelled his anger further. Today was a bad day. A very bad day.

  During the next ten minutes a battle was fought out in the kitchen of the vicarage such as had never been seen there before. At first Jane fought her father alone, gripped by a fury almost equal to that of his.

  ‘I’m not putting up with this any longer, do you hear me,’ she hissed. ‘This is the last time. I’m going to the police. I’m going to see that you’re put in jail or the madhouse where you belong. You bastard! Mother, for God’s sake, fight back. Together we can do it,’ she shouted.

  When her words finally penetrated her mother’s stunned brain, Ruth rallied to help her daughter. Jane had often felt sure the two of them together could fight him off if they joined forces, but she had forgotten her
mother’s frailty. Ruth was knocked out by a couple of well-placed fists and only Jane remained. It was a fight she couldn’t possibly win and in the end she had to admit defeat. She feigned a faint in order to stop the beating and slid to the floor at her father’s feet, blood streaming from her nose onto the kitchen floor.

  He stood for a moment looking down at her, breathing heavily. She stayed motionless in the hope that he would go away, and when she reached the point where she knew she’d scream if he didn’t leave soon, he finally left the room with an oath. Jane breathed a ragged sigh of relief when she heard the front door bang once more.

  Blessed silence.

  She didn’t know how long she lay there, but when she noticed that her mother wasn’t moving she roused herself enough to call for an ambulance. It arrived quickly and she and her mother were taken to the emergency department of the hospital. Jane was led into a small cubicle, where she was soon joined by a young doctor. He looked her over with grim determination.

  ‘What happened, Miss Blake-Jones? Who did this to you and your mother?’

  ‘My father,’ she whispered through broken lips. ‘Is-is my mother g-going to be okay?’

  ‘Yes, she’ll be fine. I think she has concussion, but there is nothing broken except maybe a tooth or two. Tell me, how long has this been going on?’

  ‘Oh, years.’ Jane shrugged. ‘I really don’t know. Since before I was born, I should think.’

  ‘Good grief! Why have you never said anything? You should have gone to the police or the social services.’

  ‘I couldn’t. Mother wouldn’t let me. She’s afraid he’ll kill her.’ Jane felt tears start to run down her cheeks. ‘I’m not so sure she isn’t right.’

  The doctor looked grave. ‘This sort of thing makes me so angry,’ he muttered. ‘Let’s have a look at you.’

  Jane had two broken ribs and a broken finger, as well as innumerable cuts and bruises, but as she lay in her hospital bed later that afternoon she vowed that it was for the last time. Never again would she let this happen to either herself or her mother. It was time to escape.

 

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