Ravens Deep (one)

by Jane Jordan

  “I think there are things that cannot be explained,” he said, “and it all happened such a long time ago, I can barely remember.” I had the weirdest feeling when he said those words, but then, as if forgetting himself he quickly added, “I heard the stories when I was very young.”

  “Who told you these stories?”

  “I knew Mr. Chambers when he lived in this house,” he replied without hesitation.

  “So if Madeline murdered Theo. in this house, he could be the presence and not a good one at that?” I summarized, feeling suddenly chilled even though the air was warm.

  “I shouldn’t’t worry about that,” Darius said, lightening the mood. “Theo is long gone, exorcised by the various occupants of this house.” Darius looked at the old French clock on the mantelpiece, it was close to midnight. “I should go, it is late. It would like to see you tomorrow night,” he said giving me an enquiring look.

  “I want to see you too,” I said feeling a fluttering sensation in my stomach. It was not just the fact that Darius was watching me, there was something on the tip of my tongue. It was now or never. I had to ask the question.

  “Do you ever go out during the day? I only see you at night.” Darius pupils dilated suddenly, he was unexpectedly tense as if uncertain how I was going to react.

  “I avoid the daylight, I have a condition called Porphyria. I am allergic to the sun,” he said. “It causes a severe reaction in my blood, even in low levels of sunlight.”

  I was stunned, I hadn’t really expected an answer like that.

  “That’s terrible Darius,” I began, not knowing what to say. But I didn’t want him to think that it bothered me. “I was beginning to let my imagination get the better of me, believing that you may be a ghost,” I concluded cordially. There was a moment of coldness in his eyes. “There are worse things than being dead, Madeline.” I felt a little unnerved and not sure how to take that remark or his look. I wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking, and I decided to ignore his last words, I knew having a condition like that must be hard for him.

  “So what does that really mean, do you never go out at all during the day? What about when it’s overcast?” It was a sad thought that he could never know the beauty of the world around him in the sunlight.

  “No, during the day even low levels of light can cause my skin to blister. Do not look concerned, Madeline, I have adapted to live my life to deal with my condition.” I looked down at his hand, his perfect white skin. I could not imagine it disfigured with blisters. Darius stood up and I followed. Drawing my hand to his lips he said,

  “Maybe one day, you will know all my secrets.”

  “When you are ready to tell me, Darius, I will be here,” I answered, and wished he wouldn’t leave. I wanted him to kiss me properly, but all too quickly we were standing at the front door. Darius turned to me and smiled, all earlier coldness had vanished.

  “Until tomorrow, Madeline.” Releasing my hand, he disappeared into the blackness of the night.

  Chapter Nine - First Lamentation

  Darius’s tale was replaying in my head as I set the mousetraps for the night. I thought that these mice were either getting smarter, or I was setting the traps incorrectly, as each morning all four traps were sprung, but there was never a body to be found. Then again the thought crossed my mind:

  Maybe the ghost caused the traps to spring.

  In my bedroom, the familiar presence was apparent, and I was slowly growing accustomed to the unearthly feeling that came and went, but tonight, more than any other, I was chilled by it.

  I shouldn’t have been so insistent that Darius tell me the stories of Ravens Deep.

  Now, I felt scared and haunted as I lay in bed with thoughts of opium and murder going through my mind and speculated if Theo had been murdered in this very bed. Uneasiness swept through me, but I had slept here peacefully on previous nights, it was just tonight I was allowing my imagination to take control. I felt reassured that everything Darius had told me had happened over a century ago.

  This is probably a different bed anyway.

  But in the back of my mind, I knew, this furniture was just as ancient as the house. I fell into an uneasy sleep and I was tormented by disturbing dreams. Tortured corpses rose up to haunt me and somewhere amongst it all Darius figured greatly. I suddenly jumped and awoke from my nightmare, my heart was beating fast. A combination of my disturbing dream, and a sound from below. A muffled snap and then another.

  Those damn mice!

  I eventually fell into another fitful sleep and didn’t remember anymore until I was aware of sunlight pouring into the room. The curtains were open, I had forgotten to close them the night before and I sleepily looked around me. It was hard to believe anything evil could have ever taken place here. In the light of day Ravens Deep was as beautiful and tranquil as ever, and outside it was promising to be another perfect day with not a single cloud in the sky.

  A little later I walked outside, dismissing my previous thought of continuing with my book because the garden lured me into its rambling and secluded corners, where I delighted in the discovery of an old-fashioned rose bush. The sweet fragrance enticed me further and I felt dismay that it was hidden from view, I worked to free the rose from the long tendrils of ivy, then I decided to clear the tangled weeds from the base of the stone walls. Maybe, I would discover how the mice were getting inside. Besides, Mr. Chambers had been kind enough to loan me his house, the least I could do was maintain the garden a little.

  Previously I had noticed a small structure in the back garden, similar to a potting shed. I made my way to it and opened the door. It was virtually empty apart from a few rusty old tools.

  These will have to do.

  Enthusiastically, I cleared the tallest weeds away from the foundations, pruning back the overgrown roses and working my way steadily round to the side of the house. The ivy had climbed the entire stone wall and I cleared the weeds from underneath and started to trim the ivy back. It had grown clinging to everything in sight and cascaded downwards to form a thick curtain. After trimming years of growth, I found myself staring at a wooden wall. I pulled aside the curtain of ivy to reveal, not a wall, but a solid wooden door. I was astonished at my discovery.

  What is a door doing in the side of a chimney breast?

  My eyes moved upwards and I wondered if it were a surviving remnant that connected the current house to the part that had been destroyed many years ago. I saw a black metal keyhole with matching latch which I attempted to lift, but it was solid and impossible to move, well and truly locked. I let the ivy to swing back into its original position and stood back, speculating exactly what was behind the door.

  The library wall should be on the other side.

  I judged the distance from where I stood to the window and realized that there could be a room, a cellar perhaps, or maybe a staircase or a secret passage. I gazed over the entire wall and I could see that the bedroom where I slept was located directly above the library, and felt intrigue, I wanted to know what lay behind that door and I went back inside and to the library. Apart from the actual chimney breast, bookcases lined the entire wall. There was no way to tell if a hollow space was hidden behind the cases. I was disappointed to not be able to discover any hidden passage from this room, but I went upstairs to my bedroom and to the wall that ran behind the dressing table. I knocked gently. A constant solid sound emanated back at me until I reached behind the dressing table, where it changed to a soft hollow sound. I stepped back.

  A hidden room or just attic space?

  My eyes were drawn to the small recess in the wall, which I had supposed held a candle many years ago. I examined it again, this time more closely, but just as before, there was complete darkness. It was most likely just attic space. I could not see or feel any evidence of a bricked up doorway, and I ran my hands lightly over the wallpaper to be certain, but there was nothing to reveal that there had ever been a way through.

  The wardrobe stood in fron
t of part of this wall, but it was so heavy and appeared to be firmly fixed in place. I couldn’t even move it an inch and I concluded that if there had been a way through it could have been behind this wardrobe, but it was unlikely I would ever know for sure. It was just another perplexing mystery at Ravens Deep.

  I resolved to ask Darius about the door, maybe he knew the explanation. I put the tools back in the potting shed and left the garden to its own devices. I had to go into the village and buy some supplies. In recent days I had been so preoccupied with my writing, Darius, and the mysteries of Ravens Deep that I had thought about little else, even food, and the cupboards were virtually bare.

  I really should take better care of myself and eat a proper meal.

  Leaving Ravens Deep, it seemed as though the lane had grown narrower still, as my car was once again enshrouded by the hedgerows. As I passed the driveway to Ravens Farm, an unfamiliar white shape lying to the side of the cobbles caught my attention. I stopped the car and got out. I walked closer and soon saw that it was a dead sheep, and wondered why the farmer had left it here. It did appear to have a small amount of dried blood soiling its white coat, which suggested that it had been attacked by something. But what? A fox maybe, but that was the second dead sheep in as many days.

  “These things happen,” I told myself. “All part of country life.”

  After all, this sheep was probably destined for someone’s dinner plate anyway.

  I tried to make myself feel better about the discovery. I didn’t know what to do as I could not lift the dead animal. I returned to my car, determined to dislodge the image from my mind and think about more pleasant things.

  I continued on to the village of Beaconmayes and was mildly surprised at the amount of traffic. I wondered if it was market day or if some local event was happening. It took several minutes to find a space to even stop, but I eventually parked the car and walked to the small grocery store. After selecting several items I placed them on the counter and smiled warmly at the woman who was packing my groceries into a plastic bag.

  “Is there something happening in the village today?” I inquired. “There seems to be a considerable amount of traffic around.”

  “That’ll be the funeral procession, quite a turn out too.” She spoke with a thick West Country accent. “That’ll be ten pounds and twenty-two pence please.”

  “Oh, who died?” I asked. My question was more out of politeness than interest, since I didn’t’t know anyone here.

  “Samuel Dunklin.” The woman held out her hand for the money I had been counting, but I stopped counting and froze. An odd shiver ran through me.

  “You mean the old man Samuel Dunklin?” I asked.

  “There was only one that I know of. He’ll be sadly missed, one of me regulars he was. Did you know him?” she inquired.

  “No . . .” I hesitated. “Well yes, I met him only a couple of days ago. What happened to him?” I asked still reeling from the shock. The woman handed the bag of groceries to me.

  “I am not really sure, he died sort of . . . sudden like.”

  “And they are burying him already?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yes,” she continued, “I think it’s the family. Some people are heartless. Want to burn him up before he’s even properly cold,” she concluded, shaking her head.

  “They are allowed to do that? What about an inquest?” She looked at me knowingly.

  “They don’t much bother with things like that out here, too remote. Unless it was a murder of course. We pretty much take care of our own out here.” I took my bag of groceries and left the shop in stunned silence, wondering what year I was living in. I knew this place was remote, but this was positively behind the times.

  Samuel Dunklin had been fine when I had spoken to him, he hadn’t seemed sick or really that old, come to think of it. I was also very much aware that he had been the only person I had so much as spoken to since arriving on Exmoor, apart from Darius of course. Now Samuel was dead.

  I did not feel like going back to Ravens Deep so soon. Instead I drove through the village with Samuel in my thoughts. As I drove passed the old Beaconmayes church, I could see the congregation of people milling around the graveyard and I felt deeply saddened by the sight. In a few days I would go and pay my final respects to him. I was sure his ashes would remain in that churchyard.

  As I reached the end of the village, I noticed a sign-post: Selman Point. The sign brought to mind Samuel’s recommendation. Now, out of respect and sadness for the man who was gone so suddenly, I turned the car towards the sign.

  Samuel had been right, the winding road up to Selman Point was beautiful and scenic. A short distance from the top the road ended, but a large patch of gravel provided a parking place for my car. I continued on foot for maybe a quarter of a mile, it was actually further than I had first thought, but the walk was worth it, as the scenery was breathtaking when I finally reached the summit.

  It did indeed feel like I was on top of the world. It was a clear day and I could see for miles. To the left, I looked down upon the village of Beaconmayes and across the moors, and to the right, down across the rugged cliff face to the sea.

  I wondered if it was possible to see Ravens Deep from here, but as I scanned the distant woodland I could see no indication of any building. I spent a tranquil hour sitting on the grass, contemplating the events that had occurred since my arrival on Exmoor, the sadness I felt at today’s turn of events and of course Darius, who was never far from my thoughts at any time.

  It was hard to imagine that I had only known him for such a short while. He seemed so familiar to me. The way he spoke, the way I felt when I was with him, I couldn’t’t remember a time when I had felt happier. He was so unlike any other man I had ever met. I was drawn to him and his irresistible charm, he was a being like no other, but that thought continued to play on my mind, for I had a strange feeling of not understanding some elementary part of him. I dismissed my confused notions and wondered if Darius ever came up here. I wished he could see the beautiful landscape in front of me. Witness it as I did, bathed in warm sunshine.

  I finally left Selman Point and drove slowly back down the winding road, and back through the village. The traffic had all but disappeared and Beaconmayes had regained the air of a sleepy country village once more.

  I returned to Ravens Deep and unloaded my groceries from the car. I walked through to the kitchen. The pantry door stood wide open. But by now, I was half expecting it. I looked down and saw that all four mousetraps had sprung, but there was not a single mouse body anywhere. I didn’t know why I even bothered setting them. After all, I hadn’t seen any more mice. I picked them up and put them in the cupboard under the kitchen sink.

  I continued working on my book for the rest of the afternoon and wondered what time Darius would arrive. I now knew that he wouldn’t’t be here before sunset. I thought about his illness. Had it developed, or had he been born with it? He would tell me when he was ready I was certain, for his life must be a difficult, not to be able to go out in the sunshine. I could not imagine living in perpetual darkness. It was no wonder he was so pale, his skin was never exposed to daylight, and part of the reason he appeared so dark and mysterious. But none of that mattered to me. I could deal with it, and we would work around his illness. What did matter was being with him. Anxiously I looked at the clock. Only a couple more hours of daylight left, but my world felt inexplicably empty when he wasn’t in it, and I hoped he felt the same way about me.

  Darius arrived at precisely eight-thirty and as he entered the hallway he brushed my lips with the lightest of kisses.

  “Good evening Madeline” I was taken aback, but managed to respond.

  “Hello Darius, come in.” That was a moot point, as he was already in. My inner voice told me to tell him how I felt, to tell him how this strange magnetism was compelling me to him, but my voice of reason told me to wait, let him make the first move.

  Just as before I poured out two glasses
of wine and set them on the table by the sofa. We sat down together.

  “You look tired,” he said, watching me.

  “I didn’t’t have a very good night,” I confessed. “I must admit the story you told me was a little disturbing.”

  “It is my fault, I shouldn’t have told you,” he began.

  “No, you were right to tell me. I needed to know. Sometimes it’s better to know the truth, so you can move on from it.”

  “Maybe you are right,” he said thinking. “But sometimes there is danger in knowing too much and the truth can be too painful.”

  “What do you mean?” I said looking at him curiously. He seemed agitated, not cool and composed as before.

  “I don’t mean anything. Are you happy here Madeline?” he said regaining his normal composure.

  “Yes, I am.” I took a deep breath, plucking up the courage to utter the next words. “I am happiest here with you, Darius.” He smiled softly at me and took my hand in his.

  “I am happiest here with you also.” He pulled me close to him and I laid my head on his shoulder. I could feel an overwhelming sense of being drawn into a state of complete security. It was as though there was an invisible force field surrounding our entire beings. As he rested his head against mine, I took his hand in my own. The slender fingers and long glass-like nails fascinated me. I had never seen hands like his. They were beyond perfect, with not a blemish or mark of any kind.

  The evening wore on and we sat unmoving, making small talk about the house and garden. All the while, I wished that this evening would never end, I wanted him to stay. I began to tell him about my day and how I had found the strange door, and felt the faintest reaction in him. I lifted my head, but his expression was unreadable.

  “What is it Darius?” I turned so that his eyes met mine.

  “There is nothing behind that door,” he said sharply.

  “How do you know that?” I asked a little bewildered by his reaction.

  “I too, found that door when I was a child. It is what remained of an entrance to the part of the house that burned down. It was bricked up years ago and the door locked for good.” I was about to tell him of the hollow wall I had found, but thought better of it. For some reason when I mentioned that door, it disturbed him. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Instead, I told him about my day, and the discovery of another dead sheep.