I headed down the narrow spiral steps and found myself coming out into a walled garden. This was awash with brilliant colours of roses set against a verdant background of vegetables. There was even a small orchard of fruit trees in one corner and a dovecote.
I stood perplexed in wonderment at this secret haven. I hadn’t been shown this on my grand tour and it had been invisible from my bedroom window. It looked to be a treasured private retreat.
Then I remembered what I needed to do. I hunted around the walls for any further sign of entrances. After a speedy search, I found one half camouflaged by rampant honeysuckle. Sure enough, it was open. I shut it and drew across the two bolts.
I relaxed. Now I could discard my soiled clothing and freshen up.
As I remounted the stairs inside the turret, I heard a sudden banging. I stopped, stunned, catching my breath. I peeped through an arrow slit and saw Dylan down below, kicking at the door I’d secured, in his frustration and anger. He must have seen my mad dash along the battlements, for he called out to me. I paid him no attention, not registering what he had said.
Once back inside, I stripped naked, piling the stinking clothes into the washing machine in the kitchenette. Then I tried to run myself a bath. But the water was cold. I searched for the immersion switch and turned it on. I was left for an hour, huddled on the side of the tub, waiting for the water to heat up.
This gave me time for my thoughts and for my anxieties to increase. This, in turn, blanked the past from my mind, until I couldn’t remember anything about my life before coming here.
I went into a complete panic. My whole body was gripped by violent spasms.
I steadied myself with the idea I was in too much shock over recent events. I relaxed only after immersing myself in warm bathwater. I found some bubble bath Yasuko had left behind, and its fragrance, and the caressing of the bubbles soothed me further. I stayed there until the bathwater went cold around me and goose pimples began to appear on my arms and breasts.
Later, as I was dressing in new clothes from my rucksack, I found Yasuko had left her kimonos on her bed. They had been ripped to pieces with a knife or a pair of scissors. There were seven of them, all different in colour; only now did I realize there was one for each day of the week. I discarded the garments in the wardrobe.
Then I cooked myself a meal from the assortment of tins in the kitchen cupboard.
I telephoned Janis, conveying what had happened and some of my distress. I wanted her to come straight over. But she told me I’d have to come to her rock-climbing school as she was too busy with clients. And that it was better to wait until morning. I hadn’t even realized how late it had become until I gazed through the window and saw night was beginning to fall.
She seemed upset I was bothering her. Yet she did give me detailed directions of how to find her.
Once the phone call was over, I decided to climb up to the gatehouse battlements. The walled garden was clearly in view, with the outer grounds fading away into the enveloping darkness. The courtyard was a long way down from here.
I looked across to the main house. I was at about the same height as the top of the Lodge’s roof-line. The central tower swept another three storeys above me. I noticed only the lights in his workroom were on.
The atmosphere felt very close and humid. Sweat began to build under my T-shirt. Dylan had told me convection currents were the predominant meteorological feature in August in these parts. Another thunderstorm was on its way.
I stayed up on my lofty belvedere as the first few spots of rain fell on my head and arms.
Suddenly, lightning filled the sky and a rumble of thunder soon followed. It was forked lightning. Like giant fireworks illuminating the night sky.
I glanced up and saw Dylan was standing motionless on the tower battlements. He was looking in my direction. It was too far away to make out his expression, but I was certain he was staring at me.
Then the rains came. My instinct was to retreat indoors immediately. I didn’t want to be drenched. Nor set myself up as a lightning conductor.
But Dylan remained motionless. Still looking down on me.
I became transfixed by him. Despite my clothes and hair rapidly matting against my skin in the downpour.
I couldn’t say how long I remained there. Shivering. Even when I finally withdrew, Dylan remained in position. Hours later, I was sure he was still up there in the heat of the storm, as I gazed upwards from the living-room windows.
I had a very unsettled sleep. When lying awake, I wondered whether Dylan would burst in on me at any moment. When asleep, I re-experienced the episode in the tower in a dream, even down to wetting the bed in memory of that gruesome chair.
I felt very ashamed. I had not done this since earliest childhood. A fleeting memory of that time had come back, at last. I cursed John for sending me here: I had reached my lowest ebb since my arrival at Grimshaw Lodge.
I looked at the clock: it read four. I’d wanted to get up early to avoid Dylan, but not quite this early. I stripped the bed, had another bath, then discarded the saturated sheets in the tub. Then I left.
The night air was cool and refreshing. The front door was locked, so I had to clamber through the lounge window in order to activate the portcullis mechanism from the hallway.
Once back outside, I crept over to the stables and opened the door, trying to be as quiet as I could. I climbed into the Austin-Healey and let off the handbrake. With effort, I managed to start a forward motion with my leg, hanging out of the door. This brought the car into the courtyard. The cobbles were gently cambered towards the inner gatehouse, so the weight of the car was enough to send me down towards it. I guessed at the direction I should steer through the archway, as I daren’t put on the headlights. Once I’d negotiated the opening, the drive sloped down and I began to gather speed.
I came to a standstill where the road flattened out at the bridge. I climbed out and looked back towards the Lodge. I listened carefully. No sound came out from the lightening darkness.
I sat back inside, started the engine, put on the headlights and accelerated as fast as I could towards the outer gatehouse. For a moment, my confidence grew as I approached. Then the portcullis began to descend. I applied the brakes and skidded to a halt only a few feet from the spikes.
I crumpled against the steering wheel. There was nothing I could do but head back up the driveway. I walked slowly back, resigned to the likely conflagration I would have with Dylan when I returned.
But Dylan was nowhere to be found in the inner courtyard. I went back inside Yasuko’s quarters and headed straight for the phone. After I’d dialled, I could hear a faint ringing from across the courtyard. It was coming from the tower room! I slammed the phone down, realizing I must have inadvertently dialled up the internal system. I fiddled with the phone and redialled, pacing up and down in front of the window.
The line connected. I heard John grumbling and shifting about. ‘Who’s there? This better be good. Do you know what time it is?’
‘It’s Freya.’
‘Oh.’ I could make out bedsprings creaking as he shifted in bed.
I did not give him a chance to wake up fully before I had launched myself into a tirade over what Dylan had done to me with his ghastly chair.
‘Calm down. Calm down.’
‘No, I won’t calm down. You never said I might be exposing myself to danger when I took on this mission!’
‘Well, I wasn’t to know. Tell me what he told you. He was a Satanist himself?’
I recounted everything Dylan had said.
‘He helped to destroy my Seraphina….’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were once Sera’s boyfriend?’
‘I wanted you to keep an open mind….Stay impartial….Dylan’s stolen her memory away from me. Just like he stole a lot of my ideas.’
‘Eh?’
‘Well. I wanted to be a writer, too, once. Sera was fascinated by this. That’s why Dylan took it up, I reckon. He g
ot all the glory. And I was left with nothing! Find me the rest of the answers and you will be handsomely rewarded.’
The phone went dead and I collapsed into a chair, exhausted.
I was aroused from sleep by a knock at the door. I was startled, trying to take in my strange surroundings. Morning light streamed in through the window. I consulted my watch. It was nearly half-past nine. I shifted in the chair, finding difficulty in rising to my feet. I stretched my back in response to the pain of being in an unaccustomed position for so long.
I reached the door and opened it before I realized what I was doing. I slumped back in the chair as Dylan entered the room.
‘Hi Freya, how are you?’ He appeared cheerful and calm.
I didn’t respond.
He sat down on the sofa opposite me. ‘I thought it best to prevent you from leaving last night. I was worried for your safety.’
‘Is that all?’
‘No. If you’re going to leave, it would be nice to have a proper goodbye.’
‘I wasn’t trying to leave, you fool. I was going to Janis’s.’
‘Oh.’ He was taken by surprise. He came over and sat on the arm of my chair. He began to stroke my hair. He felt me tense up and immediately stopped.
‘Look,’ he said, getting to his feet again. ‘I’m sorry about what happened yesterday, truly I am. I was so shocked to discover you in the tower. And for you to subject me to such a barrage of questions. And to find out you knew so much.’
‘You need help, Dylan. You really do.’
‘No, I’ll be fine.’
His response didn’t augur well.
‘Look, I need some space to gather my thoughts. If I do decide to leave, I will tell you. And I will say a proper farewell. Your recent behaviour doesn’t negate your hospitality up till then. Nor the very genuine feelings I’ve had for you.’
He detected my use of the past tense, and looked perturbed. He wandered around the lounge.
Then our eyes locked and we spent a few seconds duelling across the room with each other.
He came towards me again.
I averted my eyes, breaking his mesmeric stare, just as he was about to lay his hand on me.
‘Look, I must go. I’ll be back tonight, or tomorrow at the latest.’
I stroked his cheek and felt him kiss my hand. But I didn’t let our gazes meet.
Instead, I scrambled out of the door and down the steps. I began my walk down the driveway, back to the Austin-Healey at the outer gatehouse. By the time I reached the car, the portcullis was in its opened position.
I motored through the gates as quickly as I could.
- XXIV -
I HAD NEVER had a great aptitude for navigation, so I struggled to follow Janis’s directions to Branthwaite Farm, where her rock-climbing school was based. I travelled out on twisting roads to the very western margin of the mountains. I first became confused around similarly named hamlets, then over the small deciduous woodland which masked the farm from the road. I passed the gateway several times over a twenty minute period, until finally seeing the white hoarding advertising the school and its courses.
I drove down the dirt road, finding a space in the small car park under the trees. Then I meandered up a track between dilapidated outbuildings. The cries of climbers shouting ‘That’s me!’ and ‘Climb when ready!’ echoed around the confined spaces.
As I entered a cobbled courtyard, the vista spread out over an open field. Two artificial climbing towers were located there, scaffold-and-board structures of around a hundred feet in height. Clients were grouped around the bottom of each one, dressed in readiness for their turn. Instructors on the top platforms were guiding climbers up two of the four faces on each of the towers.
I walked towards them, all the time being reminded of the fearful abseiling off the bridge at the Lodge.
‘Stand back, lady!’ An instructor had stepped forward, barking the order. He was making a stop sign with his outstretched arm and hand and didn’t look amused. ‘No one past the gates without a helmet! Can’t you read!’
I backed off, suddenly realizing I was abusing the safety code. I went back through the gate, finding the sign I’d not seen on entry in my absent-mindedness. Then I strolled through the courtyard towards the ancient farmhouse, with its rare galleried first floor. There were barns on either side, their doors wedged open to air the interiors, revealing their conversion into dormitories and equipment stores.
I could hear a vacuum cleaner droning out from within, and the wafting smells of food. I felt my stomach groan. It took a while for the young girl hoovering to respond to my knock upon the door. She was in her late teens, with a brown bob secured with a headband. She tried to put on a carefully coached customer-service smile, but it was clear she had not wanted to be disturbed.
I read the name tag on her crop top. ‘Hi, Tara. I’ve come to see Janis.’
‘The gov’nor’s up at the quarry back yonder,’ she motioned over her shoulder. ‘She won’t be free till lunch.’ She looked at her wristwatch. ‘At least another two hours.’ She held her ground as if hoping this would be enough to send me on my way.
‘May I come in and wait? She is expecting me.’
‘You’re not the new laundry maid, are you?’ She had loosened up a little.
‘No.’
She hardened again. ‘Well, it’s really not convenient. I’ve got the whole ground floor to clean. Then I’ve got to re-make the beds upstairs. The present guests are leaving this afternoon. It’s changeover day.’
When she saw I wasn’t going anywhere, she eventually invited me through the building and out onto the terrace at the rear.
I sat down at a picnic table and asked for a drink.
Tara humphed, putting her hands on her hips.
‘I’m sorry, I’ll make it myself, if you show me where to go.’
She frowned.
‘Look, I’ve come down from the Lodge and I’m feeling rather scorched!’
‘Lodge?….Grimshaw Lodge?’
‘Why, yes.’
‘Well, you should’ve said so in the first place.’ Her whole outlook changed in an instant. ‘You’d better come this way.’
She guided me around the side of the building and into a walled garden. One of the converted barns lay to the right, and a lawn sloped down to mature trees and a stream. She led me down towards this, offering me a seat in a wooden summerhouse.
‘There’s a mini-fridge in the corner. There’s iced tea, lemonade or cola in there. Help yourself.’
‘You know the Lodge, then?’
‘Yes. And that lecherous old bugger Dylan as well. E-J’s always ranting and raving about the place, but I never go up there.’
‘Why not?’
She gave me a wry grin. ‘He flirts with me whenever he comes down here. He’s very brash and arrogant. In truth, he disturbs me.’
I kept quiet and tried to avoid eye contact. My reaction made it clear to her I must have been Dylan’s latest conquest.
‘Make yourself at home. Sorry you’ll have to wait, but I believe Janis assumed you were coming after lunch.’
I tried to recall what she’d said on the phone. But I’d been too overwrought at the time to remember now.
Tara began to walk off up the slope. Then she stopped and turned around. ‘I take it you know E-J?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, if you see her, tell her I’m looking for her. She’s been very naughty. I’ll be telling Janis if she doesn’t come back and apologize to me soon.’
‘OK. I’ll tell you if she returns.’
I watched her depart through the gate in the low wall, then helped myself to a drink.
‘Hello, Auntie Freya. Has she gone?’
The sudden call made me jump and I jerked up in my chair.
E-J giggled.
I looked up to find her wide-brown eyes and freckled face beaming down at me through the window of a tree house in the boughs of a sycamore. Her long, dark-brown hair
, as unkempt as ever, dangled down below the sill.
‘Hi yea! What’re you doing up there?’
‘Hiding. Tara’s going to tell Mummy. Then Mummy will spank me again.’
‘What have you done this time?’
‘I threw water bombs at some of the guests from the roof.’
‘Oh, that’s naughty!’ But I couldn’t keep a straight face for long. Soon I was consumed with mirth and I’d condoned her poor behaviour once again.
E-J disappeared from the window. In a moment she was climbing down a ladder on the other side of the trunk.
‘Careful!’ I said, yet knowing she’d be fine. She was such a tomboy.
I furnished her with a drink and she sat down beside me. She guzzled it down and I poured her another. We sat there for some time, talking about all the adventures she’d been up to since we’d last met.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘Let’s go for a walk. I’ll show you a good place to watch Mummy from.’
‘Hadn’t I better wait here, like Tara said?’
‘Forget Tara. She’s a pussycat. I can wind her round my little finger.’
I thought for a moment, then came to the conclusion she probably could. And me as well!
E-J helped me to jump over the little stream and we headed up the field outside the farm’s boundary. Then we nipped back through a gap in the dry-stone wall and were lost in a small copse. Her route had obviously been planned to avoid being overseen from the main house.
‘E-J!’ I puffed as I was struggling to keep up with her. ‘You sure we should be doing this?’
‘’Course not, Auntie Freya. But I’m going to get a spanking anyway, so I might as well enjoy myself till then.’
I chuckled. Some of my own youthful rebelliousness towards my parents was being remembered as we climbed the steepening bank.
Being with E-J also brought out the mothering instinct in me. When I thought this, I was harrowingly brought back to that grim day: lying flat on my back upon a cold hospital operating table, naked legs bound high in stirrups, having my own baby sucked out of me. I stopped and leant against the nearest tree trunk in anguish. Tears welled up and began a slow and guilty descent down my cheeks.
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