by Poppy Blake
‘Hey, why don’t you read one of your bedtime stories for us, Phil? Lull us all to sleep with an onslaught of ennui? You really should think about pursuing a new ambition. How long have you been writing that new book of yours now? You do know that no one’s going to publish it, don’t you? I started to read your last one a few months ago and Helen said I was asleep within five minutes – comatose more like.’
Matt cleared his throat before interrupting the one-way conversation. ‘Okay, everyone, if we want to be up before dawn for the trek to the Garside Priory, we need to bed down and get some rest.’
He took some time to scrutinize the area where they had made camp, making sure every utensil they had used was wrapped up and stored securely in his rucksack, then he checked to ensure everyone else had followed his example.
‘Nothing is to be left behind. This is private land and the landowner has only granted us permission to camp here on the strict proviso that we take everything away with us and camp as unobtrusively as possible.’
Rick stretched out in his sleeping bag, his fingers laced behind his head.
‘I’ve been wanting to see the Garside Priory for years. I must admit, there’s something very mystical about being able to watch the sunrise through the eastern arch. Maybe we’ll all be endowed with special, magical powers. What do you think, Brad?’
‘Wouldn’t say no to a few magical powers,’ sniggered Brad, snuggling against Emma’s spine to share her bodily warmth as the temperature began to drop steeply.
‘What’s so intriguing about a crumbled old ruin?’ asked Rosie. ‘I’m not sure I can be bothered to hike over the fields just to watch dawn break through a stone archway. I might just stay here and wait for you to return.’
‘Well, I’m definitely going,’ laughed Mia. ‘I love all this folklore stuff.’
‘Sorry, Rosie, I’m afraid that’s not an option. We have to stick together, mainly for safety reasons, and I had to promise Giles, the landowner, that none of us would go off-piste and explore on our own.’ Matt cast a suspicious glance in Rick’s direction as he wriggled into his sleeping bag. ‘It was one of his stipulations before granting his consent for us to camp here. The hike will only take about twenty minutes, maybe thirty, depending on the weather in the morning.’
‘You don’t want to miss it, Rosie!’ interjected Phil, dragging out a guidebook from one of the many zipper pockets in his canvas jacket. ‘To watch a new day break over the horizon through a medieval church arch is a spiritual experience you’ll never forget.’
‘Oh no, here we go. A recital of the various myths surrounding the priory according to our resident humdrum author, Philip G. Brown,’ groaned Rick, rolling his eyes theatrically.
‘I was just going to…’
‘What myths?’ asked Mia, sitting up a little straighter, her kohl-ringed eyes swinging between Phil and Rick.
‘One of the most fascinating aspects of Garside Priory, in my view, is the reference to the possibility that there’s a concealed stone circle in its grounds, hewn from local material and buried over the centuries,’ enthused Phil, flicking through the pages of his guidebook until he reached the photograph he wanted to show to Mia.
‘And why do you think it’s there?’ asked Rosie, still unconvinced that the possible presence of a circle of stones was worth getting up before dawn for.
‘Well…’
‘It’s only a theory,’ interrupted Rick, who, despite his eagerness to prevent a lengthy academic lecture from Phil, was quite happy to give one of his own. ‘If there was one there, it could have been a religious or ceremonial meeting place, an astronomical observatory, or maybe a pagan ritual site. But, Mia, the legend you do need to be aware of is this – there’s a possibility that the priory was built from stones that are cursed.’
‘Cursed?’ whispered Mia, her eyes widening as she twisted a lock of her dark glossy hair around her index finger, the silver from her numerous rings glinting in the moonlight.
Rosie saw that despite his earlier criticism of Phil, Rick was clearly enjoying himself in the role of raconteur and was accustomed to holding the floor.
‘One legend recounts that disaster shall strike if any person removes even a chipping from one of the stones.’ Rick flashed a stern warning glare around the gathering. ‘And one of my favourite stories is that anyone who falls asleep inside the priory walls “will die a heinous death or go mad or become a poet” – let’s face it, none of us want to morph into Phil, do we?’
A smatter of giggling erupted from the direction of Emma and Brad.
‘What time do we have to be up in the morning for the final push, Matt?’ asked Phil, when his facial colouring had returned to its usual pale and wan. ‘We can’t risk being late.’
‘We’ll need to leave here at about six o’clock. It’s an easy thirty-minute hike which should get us there in good time for sunrise. I’ve set my alarm so no one needs to worry. Get some sleep and I’ll wake you with a brew,’ said Matt, Norfolk’s answer to Action Man himself.
Chapter 4
‘What time is it?’ croaked Rosie as she peeled back her eyelids and realized the dawn chorus was already well into its second verse. She rubbed her eyes and, despite her head feeling like a bulbous watermelon, she marvelled at the fact that she had slept at all.
‘Mmm?’ groaned Mia, rolling over to face Rosie, her hair more bird’s nest than Sunday best. ‘God, my head aches. I feel like I spent last night indulging in a boatload of the Windmill Café’s autumn punch!’
Rosie groped for her watch, shaking her head to clear the lingering fuzziness, and her stomach gave an unexpected lurch. ‘Hey! It’s seven o’clock! Mia, we’ve missed the trek to the priory. They’ve left us behind!’
‘What? No way!’ cried Mia.
Rosie crawled out of her sleeping bag, grateful that she’d chosen to sleep fully clothed. She unzipped the flap of their tent, irritation at being ditched gnawing at her gut. She had no doubt whose idea it would have been to leave the two silly girls behind. As she peered out, Mia joined her, resting her chin on her shoulder and causing a whiff of her favourite floral perfume to infuse the air.
‘Oh, it’s okay! Everyone’s still here. Look, there’s Freddie and Matt.’
Rosie swung her gaze around the makeshift camp where everyone was still asleep in exactly the same places they’d chosen to bed down for the night. But her smile of relief quickly disappeared as she realized what that meant.
‘Wait a minute - that means we’ve all missed the show! How could Matt have allowed that to happen? Quick!’
With Mia close behind, she scampered out from the tent and shook Matt’s shoulder. ‘Matt! Matt! Wake up!’
‘Ergh?’
‘We’ve missed sunrise!’
‘What?’ Matt dragged his body into a sitting position, rubbing his broad palm over his chin as he struggled to focus his eyes on Rosie. ‘What time is it?’
‘Ten past seven. We’ve missed sunrise but we can still hike up to the priory.’
Everyone in the camp was beginning to stir, woken by the noise.
‘What’s going on?’ called Phil, shaking his head and screwing up his eyes. ‘Oh my God, have we slept in? How on earth did that happen?’
‘I’m not sure,’ replied Matt, his forehead creased into lines of concern. ‘My watch alarm definitely isn’t broken and there is no way I would have slept through it.’
‘Don’t worry, Matt. It can happen to the best of us. So, what’s the plan?’ asked Phil, pointing his camera at the horizon to take a few snaps of the rising sun as it sent fissures of apricot light over the surrounding countryside. ‘I’d still like to visit the priory and get some photographs for the book.’
A giggle rippled through the air causing everyone to turn their heads to where Brad and Emma were engaged in what Rosie could only describe as a vigorous tickle fight. She averted her eyes, embarrassed at the intimate scene.
‘Hey, you two. You need to get ready. We leave in five
minutes!’ Matt’s voice held a note of steel as he strode away from the gathering, his jaw set and eyes narrowed as he started to dismantle the tent. Freddie collected the rest of the equipment together, stuffed it in his rucksack and took a slug from his water bottle, confusion written across his face.
‘Hey, wait a minute! Where’s Rick?’ called Phil, switching his eyes from left to right as he scoured the camp for his tormentor. ‘He’s missing.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Matt, Freddie and Mia in unison.
Rosie scoured the camp site and it was true. There was no sign of Rick or his possessions, just an indentation in the grass where he’d presumably rested for the night. She, and the rest of the expedition members, immediately understood what had happened.
‘He’s sneaked off without us!’ cried Phil, his voice all a-bluster. ‘He wanted to be the only one to witness the sunrise through the arch so he could crow about it at our Myth Seekers meetings for all eternity. Oh God, Brad, we should have realized he’d plan something like this. Selfish to the core is our Mr Richard Forster. Right! He’s not going to get away with it this time. I’ve had enough of his…’
Phil patted the pockets of his utility jacket, searching for his mobile phone. Pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, he squinted at the screen and selected Rick’s number, then waited for his adversary to answer.
‘Either he’s ignoring us or there’s no signal over by the priory. Wait until I get my hands on…’
‘Okay, okay,’ announced Matt, clearly struggling to keep his temper under wraps. ‘We stick together, all right? No one goes ahead and no one lags behind.’
Matt and Freddie strode away from the campsite leaving the rest of the group to scamper after them. Rosie could feel the anger radiating from Matt’s pores and she didn’t blame him in the slightest. He had taken personal responsibility for their expedition, given the landowner his word they would stick together and keep to the previously authorized route. She just hoped that Rick hadn’t done anything else to jeopardize the reputation of Ultimate Adventures. Willerby was a tight-knit community built on trust and mutual respect and she knew Matt and Freddie would be fuming at Rick’s selfish behaviour.
Rosie slipped her arm through Mia’s and together they stumbled along the flint-strewn pathway, their bafflement as to the reasons behind Rick’s solo excursion keeping their tongues still and their brains occupied.
Why would Rick do such a thing?
It wasn’t difficult to come up with the answer. Since he and Helen had checked into their luxury lodges the previous day, Rick Forster had certainly not gone out of his way to endear himself to anyone, wearing his competitive streak like a badge of honour on his chest for all to see. Leaving everyone behind was typical behaviour that perhaps either Phil or Brad, or even Emma, should have anticipated; they were in the Myth Seekers Society with him, after all.
However, what Rosie couldn’t understand was how they had all slept beyond Matt’s alarm call, except for Rick. Her head was clear now but she couldn’t ignore the woolly feeling she’d experienced when she had woken up, and wondered fleetingly if Rick could have put something in their night-time coffee. The thought sent a donkey’s kick of shock reverberating through her chest. Yes! That was exactly what had happened! How dare he! She had to talk to Matt immediately.
Rosie jogged to where Matt was leading the group, his head bent low, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the task in hand to prevent himself from exploding with exasperation at Rick’s selfish tactics in a bout of one-upmanship. Freddie offered her a weak smile and, with a look of relief, dropped back to continue the trek with Mia.
‘Matt?’
‘Mmm?’
Rosie swallowed down on the anger that had started to bubble in her stomach. If what she suspected was right, the ramifications went far beyond a harmless caper to ensure a personal ring-side seat at a mystical sunrise – spiking someone’s drink with a sleeping drug was nothing short of criminal behaviour! It was outrageous!
‘I don’t know about you, but when I woke up this morning my head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool. Mia said she thought she had a hangover, but not a drop of alcohol passed our lips last night, I promise you. I think, well … I think Rick might have put something in our coffee last night just so he could experience the sunrise alone.’
‘That’s exactly the conclusion I’ve come to. It’s simply not possible that both Freddie and I slept through the alarm without some sort of chemical assistance, and you’re right, the most likely culprit is Rick. It’s exactly the sort of juvenile prank he would find hilarious and another way of belittling the other members of the group. I want to say that we should wait until we speak to him, to give him the benefit of the doubt before making accusations, but I’m so angry that I’m looking at my common sense in the rear-view window!’
‘Do you think we should call the police?’
‘I do, but not before I’ve had the chance to give him a piece of my mind. I think we should keep our suspicions to ourselves for the time being though, because when Freddie finds out what Rick’s done, it’ll be a bit more than a piece of his mind he’ll be sending his way. This sort of reckless behaviour is what ruins businesses like Ultimate Adventures. If any of our clients hear even a whiff of the word “drugs” they’ll steer well clear. I could strangle him!’
Rosie saw the corners of Matt’s mouth tighten as he reigned in his fury, and after a few seconds it was replaced with a glint of his habitual mischief.
‘There’s one positive though.’
‘What’s that?’ she asked, her stomach performing a back-flip at the way Matt was looking at her from beneath his long, spidery eyelashes. She knew they were both wary of embarking on new relationships because of their recent histories, but she enjoyed the familiar pull of attraction that was often close to the surface whenever she was in his company, breathing in the delicious lemony cologne he favoured. Some people just seemed to occupy the same wavelength, and so it seemed to be with her and Matt.
‘At least this time no one was poisoned!’
‘Thank God! What do you think Rick put in our coffee?’
‘It had to be some kind of sleeping tablets, but we’ll leave that to the professionals to work out. Or were you thinking of undertaking the investigation yourself like last time?’
‘Well, we did make a great team … and we got results!’
‘You know, Rosie, before you arrived in Willerby, life chugged along quite nicely. The most excitement to be had in the village was a flight down the zip wire or a stint on the obstacle course after a downpour. But now you’re in our midst we’re dealing with poisoned pop stars and morons who think they can go around lacing people’s coffee!’
‘Are you saying I attract trouble?’
‘No, I…’
‘Look! There’s the Garside Priory!’ cried Phil excitedly, elbowing Rosie and Matt out of the way and increasing his speed to a canter.
‘Keep to the path,’ shouted Matt, grabbing onto the back of Phil’s jacket to prevent him from dashing ahead.
Rosie’s calf muscles screamed their objection to the vigorous early morning workout, but a curl of excitement mingled with her irritation over the potential fallout of Rick’s irresponsible stunt when the priory appeared in the next field. Even though it was almost a ruin, made up of crumbling stone stitched together by ribbons of ivy, the building still held a mysterious presence. She felt privileged to be there, despite missing the spectacle of the sun rising through the arched doorway.
They had arrived at the wooden gate blocking their access to the site and paused to allow Brad and Emma, now bringing up the rear, to catch up with them. Brad’s arm was casually slung around Emma’s slender shoulders and he was trying to kiss her. She laughed, pushed him away, and ran towards them, her short auburn hair flapping in the breeze like she was the star in a shampoo advert.
‘I can’t see Rick anywhere,’ said Mia, standing on her tiptoes to look over the yew hedge.
>
‘I reckon he’s hiding behind one of the walls, waiting to leap out and startle us. It’s the sort of thing he’d do,’ said Phil, curling his lip in disgust as he lined up his camera for another shot. ‘And I wouldn’t put it past him to be dressed in some sort of warlock outfit with false blood dripping from a ceremonial dagger. Rosie, Mia, you have been warned.’
‘If he has any sense he’ll be running for his life!’ retorted Freddie. ‘I could kill him.’
‘Me too,’ muttered Matt as he lifted the iron bar on the gate to allow them to enter the grounds together. He carefully refastened the gate behind them and led them along a narrow footpath towards the priory, pausing at the entrance. ‘Okay, so despite having missed the sunrise, I’m sure you’ll all still be able to enjoy the experience of being in such a fascinating place. Feel free to explore and we’ll meet back here in an hour.’
‘Thanks, Matt,’ smiled Emma, fluttering her eyelashes ever so slightly at him before disappearing off to explore with Brad in tow.
Rosie chose to join Matt and Phil as they strode purposefully toward the centre of the fabled stone archway so she could make a wish. Mia had already confided in her that she intended to send up a prayer to the medieval gods that the Windmill Café’s autumn party went without a hitch so that Graham would give them more freedom and more cash to spend on their Christmas festivities for which Mia had planned an ambitious tree-decoration competition.
‘What are you going to do about Rick?’ asked Freddie, whilst they all stood watching Mia caress the stones as she listened intently to Phil’s running commentary before disappearing off with him to look at another pile of ancient architecture.