Cauldstane

by Gillard, Linda

  Alec cried out in pain as we came to an abrupt halt, then he shouted in my ear, ‘Grab a branch and hold tight.’ I twisted in the water, impaling my arm on a broken twig. ‘Work your way along the tree. Towards the bank. Can you see Ferg? When he can reach you, he’ll pull you in.’

  I stared at Alec, stupefied with cold. Blood was pouring from a wound on the side of his head. ‘You’re hurt,’ I said.

  ‘I’m fine. Move, Jenny! Work your way across but keep your eyes closed as much as you can. It will protect them from the branches. Feel your way across. I’m right behind you. You’re going to be OK now.’

  I clawed my way along the fallen tree and as the branches got thicker, I felt safer. Eventually I felt another pair of hands – warm hands – grab my bleeding arms and I opened my eyes to see Fergus, white-faced, sitting astride the trunk of the tree, his legs dangling in the water. He pulled and Alec pushed until I heaved myself out of the water and collapsed, clinging to the tree trunk where I think I would have lain until Doomsday, but the fallen tree lurched suddenly and Fergus yelled at me to move.

  While he helped Alec out of the water, I crawled up the sloping tree trunk until I reached the riverbank, then both men scrambled after me. Just as Alec reached dry land, the tree, freed of our weight, began to shift, then, like a ship being launched, it slipped into the middle of the river and floated downstream, bumping and turning as it thrashed against the rocks.

  The three of us stood on the river bank, dripping water and blood, shivering convulsively. Alec put his arms round me and Fergus put his arms round us both. Nobody spoke. I was too tired even to cry.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Looking back, I can see exactly how things went wrong for Alec and me. One man went into the river, another came out. Alec emerged knowing Meredith had bullied his wife from beyond the grave, then lured her into the river by preying upon a childless woman’s instinct to protect the vulnerable. Meredith had let Coral drown for no reason other than spite.

  As he carried me back to the castle – Fergus offered, but Alec just shook his head – he must have realised Meredith had tried to kill me in the same way so that he would know Coral’s death was neither an accident nor suicide. If Meredith had succeeded in her murderous plan, Alec would never have believed lightning could strike twice. But even though she’d failed to drown me, Alec still got the message. He’d seen his wife’s camera dangling from a branch under the bridge. Would-be suicides don’t leave home with a camera.

  From that day on, Alec was inaccessible to me, as if he were behind some sort of invisible screen. He’d always seemed guarded and I understood why, but after he saved my life, he became distant. I sensed a deep reservoir of anger in him and I suspected the only way he could deal with it was to keep himself reined in, aloof, unresponsive – to me, or anyone else.

  Zelda put it down to a knock on the head that required several stitches. Fergus attributed it to post-traumatic stress. Only I had any idea what was really going on in Alec’s mind and even I had to guess because he wouldn’t talk about it. What I didn’t guess was that Alec, broken-hearted, angry and defeated, had decided Cauldstane must be sold. Not to save money. To save lives.

  ~

  After I was rescued, Fergus rang for an ambulance, summoned the family and we all waited in the armoury. It was the warmest place. Alec and I sat huddled by the furnace, wrapped in blankets brought by a shocked and silent Wilma. Zelda was voluble and asked too many questions. Fergus did his best to field them, but since he had no idea why I’d been standing in the middle of the river, he could say little to satisfy Zelda’s curiosity. I was incapable of speech and Alec sat with his eyes closed, bleeding steadily from a gash on his temple. Sholto was calm and business-like administering First Aid, reassuring Alec that it was “just a nasty cut”, but he’d better get it seen to.

  When Sholto announced that Alec and I would be kept in hospital overnight, (“Bang on the head. Could be concussion.”), Wilma trotted off back to the castle. She returned with two bulging holdalls. Mine was packed with a change of clothes, a pair of shoes to replace the ones I’d lost in the river, a nightie and a comb. I assumed she’d performed a similar service for Alec. I gave her a wordless hug, but Alec didn’t respond. He didn’t even look inside his bag.

  As we clambered into the ambulance, Sholto said, for my benefit, I’m sure, ‘Don’t worry now. You’ll be in good hands.’

  He was right, of course. As the ambulance sped off in the direction of Inverness, I was overwhelmed with a sense of relief that I was leaving Cauldstane – and therefore Meredith – behind; relief that Alec was with me; that we were both safe and would remain so for at least another twelve hours, maybe more.

  It had been a narrow escape. But we had escaped.

  ~

  The following day, Zelda collected us from hospital. On the drive back to Cauldstane she told me I’d had several telephone calls, all from the same man. Struggling to conceal her curiosity, she told me a Mr Sheridan had rung three times. He was concerned that I wasn’t answering my mobile (which had joined my shoes in the river). Zelda explained there’d been an accident and that I was in hospital. Pressed for details, she told him I’d fallen into the river and almost drowned. Rupert had apparently sounded distressed and asked if he could ring back for updates. He’d then dictated a message which Zelda produced from her coat pocket and handed to me. I unfolded the piece of paper and read, “I received your letter and have given the contents a great deal of thought. I’ll be in touch shortly. In the meantime, I shall be praying for you.’

  I thanked Zelda for her trouble but had to ignore her sidelong look of enquiry. There was nothing I could say about Rupert or his carefully-worded message that wouldn’t lead to questions, so we drove back to Cauldstane in silence.

  Alec didn’t speak throughout the journey. It didn’t occur to me then to wonder what he might have made of that conversation.

  ~

  Back at Cauldstane, I made my excuses and said I needed to go and check my email, but on the way to my room I picked up one of the house phones. Sitting on the bed, already exhausted, I rang Rupert. I got his voicemail, so I left a message to say I’d lost my mobile, but he should wait for me to call. I told him I would ring back in an hour, then on the hour until I got through.

  I returned the phone to its cradle, then knocked on Alec’s door, but there was no answer. I assumed he was already back at work. The thought of negotiating stairs and solicitous family members on my way to the armoury was sufficient deterrent. I went back to my room, lay on the bed and stared into space. I tried to think, but my mind just stuck in a groove, dwelling on the same irrational thought. I didn’t believe in God – any god – but it was a source of inexplicable comfort to know Rupert Sheridan was praying for me.

  ~

  When I was sure Sholto had gone for his nap and Zelda was ensconced with Classic FM, I took one of the house phones and a notebook to the library where I curled up in a chair by the fireside. The phone rang only once before Rupert picked it up.

  ‘Jen? Is that you?’ It sounded almost accusatory.

  ‘Yes, it’s me.’

  ‘I’ve been so worried! Are you all right? Your people have been very tight-lipped about what happened.’

  ‘That’s because they don’t really know what happened. On the face of it, I walked into a river and almost drowned.’

  ‘You walked into a river?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘Mrs Fontaine said “the boys” had rescued you.’

  ‘The boys are grown men. Alec and Fergus. Oh—’ I slipped back into professional mode. ‘I really can’t say any more. Unless…’

  ‘Unless what?’

  ‘Unless you’re coming up to help us.’

  ‘Jen, I can’t. I did explain. It’s the responsibility of your local priest.’

  My heart plummeted and I fought back tears with indignation. ‘Rupert, I nearly drow
ned!’

  There was a moment’s silence, then, his voice unsteady, Rupert said, ‘Are you saying your accident was… connected with the ghost?’

  ‘Yes.’ I stared into the fire, trying to recall the scene – something I’d experienced, but could neither believe nor comprehend. ‘I saw a little girl in trouble, standing on a rock in the middle of the river. She was crying and I thought she might fall in and drown. So I rang for help, then I went in to help her. There were stepping stones, you see, across the river. But… one of them wasn’t real. Nor was the little girl. Only I could see her. No, that’s not true. I think Alec might have seen her too. But his brother couldn’t.’

  ‘And you think this child was the ghost?’

  ‘I know she was.’

  ‘Jen, I’m having trouble keeping up. In your letter you said this spirit was your subject’s dead wife.’

  ‘They’re one and the same. I think Meredith can manifest herself in other forms. And I have reason to believe another member of the family saw this child seven years ago.’

  ‘Have you compared notes?’

  ‘I can’t. She’s dead. She died the way I was meant to die. So you see, Rupert, you have to help us. It’s really serious. I think we need an exorcism or something.’

  ‘Oh, no, they’re extremely rare. Outside Hollywood,’ Rupert added pointedly.

  ‘Well, we have to do something!’ I heard the note of rising hysteria in my voice and reached automatically for my notebook. I tried to shoehorn my brain into fact-finding mode. ‘OK, you’re the expert. Tell me what we’re up against here. How can the local priest help?’

  Rupert explained the fundamentals of the Church’s deliverance ministry in his patient voice, assuring me of its effectiveness. Meanwhile I took notes, as if I believed every word. When he’d finished, I said, ‘So we are in trouble then?’

  ‘I think you might be. There definitely seems to be something going on. Which is why I can’t help you, Jen. You must ask the local man first. If you draw a blank there, I’ll reconsider, but these things have to be done properly. I know it sounds like bureaucratic red tape, but there’s the issue of follow-up pastoral care. People often need support afterwards. We pray with them, or just lend a sympathetic ear until things settle down again.’

  ‘But as far as I know, this family isn’t religious. Well, the housekeeper is a churchgoer and I think Zelda – the woman you spoke to on the phone – she sometimes goes with her, but I don’t think any of the men are.’

  ‘Even if they aren’t, the priest might have local knowledge that would be valuable. If it’s a rural community, he might know the family socially. That would be a start. I would just be… an outsider.’

  I gripped the phone, angry now – not with Rupert, with Meredith. ‘There are lives at stake here, Rupert, and one of them is mine.’

  ‘But why? You’ve only been there a matter of weeks. Do you know why you’ve been singled out?’

  ‘Oh, yes. And I can show you proof. She sent me a death threat. Well, as good as.’

  ‘In Heaven’s name, why?’

  I took a deep breath. The truth was always simplest and Rupert deserved nothing less. ‘Because I’ve fallen in love with a man who rejected her. And she doesn’t want anyone else to have him. I think she probably wants him dead too.’

  There was a long silence at the other end of the phone, after which Rupert said, ‘I shall pray for you all. But my advice is to contact the local priest as soon as possible. If he doesn’t give satisfaction, then get back to me.’

  ‘You’ll come?’

  ‘If for some reason he can’t deal with it, yes, I’ll come.’

  ‘Thank you!’

  ‘Keep me posted, won’t you? I shall worry unless I get regular bulletins.’

  ‘As soon as I get a replacement phone, I’ll text. But I think I’d better get off the phone now. I can hear someone coming upstairs.’

  ‘Before you go, Jen – may I ask?… This chap you say you’ve fallen for. Does he feel the same way about you?’

  There was another long silence, at my end this time. ‘I don’t know. Something’s going on between us, but I’m not sure what. The ghost has rather got in the way. Which is exactly what she intended.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’ll both stay safe. I’ll remember him in my prayers. Is it Alec or Fergus?’

  ‘Alec. He saved my life. But that isn’t why—’

  ‘No, of course. I understand. You’ll stay in touch?’

  ‘Yes, I will. Goodbye, Rupert. And thank you.’

  ‘Goodbye, Jen. God bless.’

  ~

  I decided it was time I talked to Alec. As I crossed the courtyard, heading for the armoury, my legs still weak from my ordeal in the river, I tried to order my thoughts. What I was about to suggest as a rescue strategy was unlikely to meet with his approval. It could provoke derision or even incur his wrath, but as I saw it, we had no other option.

  I knocked on the door – superfluously, as Alec was hammering and would be wearing ear defenders – then I walked in. The armoury was dimly lit, as usual. A smith needs to see the changing colour of the red-hot metal so he can gauge its temperature and that was easier to assess in low light. As I entered, the shaft of daylight from the open door alerted Alec to my arrival. He looked up from his anvil, then downed tools and removed gloves, safety glasses and ear defenders, carefully avoiding the dressing on his temple. He was pale, dishevelled and looked very tired. After a moment, he smiled, as if he’d just remembered what his face should be doing.

  It wasn’t an encouraging start, but I launched into my speech. ‘Alec, can I talk to you about what’s happening at Cauldstane? What we can do about it.’

  He turned away and headed towards the kitchenette where I heard him fill the kettle. ‘I’ve done what can be done,’ he called out. ‘And as you can see, it isn’t working.’ He emerged again and leaned against the partition wall, his arms folded across his chest. ‘But there’s no evidence Meredith wants to harm anyone but me and the women I get involved with. So I think it’s pretty obvious what we have to do. I have to be careful. And you…’ His eyes swerved away from mine. ‘You, Jenny, have to leave.’ He retreated to the kitchenette and I heard the clattering of spoons and mugs.

  ‘You can’t make me go, Alec.’

  ‘No, you’re right, I can’t. But Sholto can.’

  ‘So you’re prepared to tell him what’s been going on?’

  ‘No. I’m going to tell him we have to put Cauldstane on the market.’ He emerged carrying two mugs of coffee and tried to hand one to me, but I was too stunned to take it. ‘D’you not want coffee?’ I took the mug and stared at it absently, watching the spiral of scum as it rotated. ‘If I do that,’ Alec continued, ‘it will put you out of a job, I’m afraid. The main reason he was wanting to write the book was to raise cash, so we could hang on here. It was a daft wee idea, but Ferg and I humoured him. He’s had a grand life and it deserves to be recorded. But if I back Ferg’s plan to sell up, it’s unlikely Sholto will hold out against both of us. He knows the writing’s on the wall for us financially. But I’ll see you’re paid in full. It’s not fair you should lose out over this. But you will have to leave, Jenny.’

  I was speechless. When I finally found my voice, I said, ‘So that’s what you’re prepared to do to appease Meredith? Sabotage your father’s book. Put Fergus out of a job. And Wilma. And me. Abandon the business you’ve built up here to start over somewhere else. Sell up the historic MacNab seat – to some foreigner probably, who’ll use it as a bijou hunting lodge! Good grief, Alec MacNab, have you no pride?’

  ‘Aye, I’ve pride enough and to spare!’ He set his mug down with a bang that chipped the base and spilled coffee on the workbench. ‘But I’m not stupid, nor am I reckless. I’ve seen what Meredith can do. No one else is going to die on my watch.’

  ‘So you admit you’re beaten?’

  He flinched, as if my words had stung him physically. ‘Not beaten. But I think it’s
time for a tactical retreat.’

  ‘No, it’s time to fight back, Alec! There’s a way we can deliver Cauldstane from Meredith’s evil. I’ve been doing some research.’ I set down my mug and braced myself before continuing. ‘I’ve been talking to a priest.’

  ‘A priest?’ His laugh was sardonic. ‘You’ll be suggesting exorcism next! We might live in a sixteenth-century castle, Jenny, but that doesn’t mean we live in the dark ages.’

  ‘It’s called deliverance ministry and it isn’t exorcism. Exorcism is actually very rare and it’s only used in cases of demonic possession. That’s not what we’re dealing with here. This is an unquiet spirit who haunts the place where she lived. She died a sudden and violent death and she has… unfinished business. In cases like these – and they’re surprisingly common apparently, even though no one ever talks about them – the Church’s ancient rituals can be very effective. I know it sounds unlikely, but I have a friend who’s a minister and he’s done this kind of thing before. It’s worked elsewhere. It might work here. Surely it’s worth a try?’

  Alec drank some coffee, considering, then said, ‘What does it entail?’

  ‘In the first instance, Sholto would have to talk to the local priest.’

  ‘Sholto doesn’t talk to the local priest. Ever.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘No idea. They fell out years ago. And I don’t think it was a theological argument. In any case, Sholto doesn’t even know his home is haunted.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. He told me he’s aware of Meredith’s presence at times, but he dismissed it as a delusion. He also described her to me as “a pernicious influence” on the family. I think he might be prepared to believe it’s a genuine case of haunting. If I tell him who I saw in the river—’

  ‘He’ll think you’re deranged.’

  ‘But you saw her too, didn’t you?’ Alec was silent, then he nodded. ‘What did you see? Tell me.’