by A. B. King
He could see the play of emotions on her face, but after a few moments she subsided.
“I shall be treading on eggshells every minute,” she said at last. “Promise me you won’t try anything rash? I couldn’t bear it if-”
“You mustn’t worry, I really can look after myself; I’m just going nose around, ask a lot of questions, and try to exercise my brain to come up with the answer. If I strike lucky, I’ll be in touch with you and the police at once. I shall also be keeping a very close eye on anyone showing an undue interest in Springwater House, believe me!”
“Then I suppose I will just have to bear with you,” she sighed, “but I won’t be able to settle until I’m back, and I know that nothing has happened.”
“There’s nothing to be concerned about,” he said lightly. “I’m just taking precautions, that’s all.”
“Just be careful, please?”
“I will; now let’s go back inside and have a good hunt round to see if we can detect anything that may conceivably be a bugging device anywhere.”
One back inside the house they spent a good hour searching through the lounge and the study, and even the kitchen, but there was nothing whatever to suggest that any form of surveillance equipment had been installed. When they had finally given up, they returned to the lounge where they sat with drinks until quite late, each of them in turn coming up with fanciful deductions as to what the cryptic message meant, but each one in turn was dismissed. It was more a precaution in case there was an undetected bugging device in the room, and they wanted to give the impression that Martin’s earlier suspicions had not been seriously entertained.
At one point June went off to the kitchen and prepared a light snack, which they ate sitting side by side on the settee in the lounge. It was gone midnight when they decided that they had pretty well exhausted all possibilities of a solution and decided that it was time that they retired. They ascended the stairs together, and outside of Martin’s room, June reached up quickly to kiss him on the cheek, and then she quickly went off down the hallway to her own room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Martin was just on the point of drifting off to sleep when the answer he had been seeking all evening suddenly hit him; Jenson Smith and Carter, Mr Dobson, JSCD! It was so blindingly obvious that he almost sprang out of the bed with excitement. It was so damned simple when one thought about it, and even if somebody else had found the paper, without knowing the year of his birth they still wouldn’t get anywhere. Acting on sudden impulse as he sprang from his bed, he threw on his dressing gown and slippers, and tiptoed down the hallway to tap very quietly on June’s door.
There was no response, and after a few moments he tapped again, and then he reluctantly accepted the fact that, unlike himself she had managed to get to sleep. He turned and moved back down the hallway, and had almost reached his own room when he heard her door open. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her face peering out of the door with a worried expression on her face. He quickly retraced his steps.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Hope I didn’t awaken you?”
“I wasn’t asleep,” she whispered back “What’s happened?”
“I think I’ve solved the riddle; I just had to tell you!”
She stepped back, holding the door open. “You’d better come in,” she said. “If we keep on whispering out here in the hallway the girls might hear us.”
She closed the door behind her, and he glanced round the room dimly visible in the soft light of the bedside lamp. He was suddenly very conscious of where he was, and what it had probably meant to her when she had heard him knocking on her door. It hadn’t crossed his mind in the excitement of the moment, but now that he was there he felt distinctly guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think. Look, I shouldn’t be here, heaven knows what you must be thinking, I ought to go. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“You will do no such thing,” she said firmly, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the place beside her with her hand. “How could I possibly sleep now until you tell me what you have figured out?”
He still hesitated, taking in the sheer femininity of that room that she had now made her own. There were cosmetics of one sort and another on the dressing table, and through the partly open door of the wardrobe he could see dresses and other clothes hung up, and draped across a chair close to the bed he saw clean underwear laid out ready for the morning. It made him feel as bad as a peeping tom!
“Stop worrying!” she said teasingly. “After what you said earlier I have been over this room with the proverbial tooth-comb; there’s certainly no bugs in here!”
She reached out and grasped his arm and almost pulled him down beside her.
“Look, I don’t want you to think-” he started to say.
“Too late,” she said with a knowing smile on her face. “That was the very first thing I thought of when I heard your knock.”
“Now I feel absolutely awful!”
“Well you shouldn’t. The honest truth is that if you hadn’t come, I was going to think up some excuse to come and see you!”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Of course I’m not. You said to me that any time I wanted to, I could come to you; isn’t that so?”
“Well, yes, I suppose it is.”
“Well then, what is good for the goose is good for the gander! How can I possibly come to you if you cannot come to me? Why are we behaving like a pair of silly kids?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “Now that you put it into words, I really don’t know at all.”
“Look Martin, if I didn’t trust you absolutely I wouldn’t even be in the house, let alone in a bedroom just along the landing and happy to invite you in.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Well, now that you are here, what is the answer? I’ve been racking my brains ever since I came to bed and I’m no nearer now than I was when you first read out what was on that bit of paper!”
“It’s like I said, something so simple and obvious that we have overlooked it altogether.”
“Well, what is it?”
“My late uncle’s solicitors, JSC D: Jensen Smith and Carter, and the ‘D’ has to be Mr Dobson! Where else would my uncle put incriminating documents or whatever it is he wished to conceal? I’m pretty certain I saw on the sign outside the door of his office that they are open on a Saturday morning, so I will track him down tomorrow, and do exactly as the note says!”
“Martin, you are a genius!”
“Guess I am at that!”
“And you have a big head too!” she added with a laugh, and suddenly she reached over and kissed him.
He was taken by surprise, but the gesture was so spontaneous he couldn’t help but to return the kiss with interest. She felt so soft and warm, he felt himself responding to her, and suddenly alarm bells started ringing in his mind and he pulled back, thoroughly alarmed that he had all but been completely carried away with a sudden desire to possess her completely.
“Sorry,” he said thickly. “I guess I got a bit carried away; I’d better leave you now.”
“Why, is that what you want to do?”
He looked at her as she sat beside him on the edge of the bed, and the sheer physical desire he felt all bit overwhelmed him.
“No it isn’t,” he admitted candidly. “If you want the honest truth it will take all of my willpower to leave you now, but I gave you my word and I will not break it.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Martin, but if I release you from your word there’s no problem is there?”
“You mean?”
“I mean I want you to stay. When you knocked at my door I had been praying that you would do such a thing. I was having a fantasy of you coming to my bed and making real love to me, yet when I heard you knock I froze and panicked all over again.”
“I know, I should have realised; I’m truly sorry.”
“Don’t you see; it isn
’t you, Martin, it’s me, and I cannot go on like this; wanting you night after night and then being terrified if you should come. You are here now, and if you leave me, I shall fear that I have failed.”
“You really want me to stay?” he asked seriously, watching her eyes for any sign of doubt.
She stood up slowly, eased off her dressing gown and stood before him in the same translucent nightdress that he had seen before. She reached down slowly, her arms going about his neck as she tipped his head upwards so that she could kiss him again. He raised his hands and slid them round her tiny waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin material of her nightdress, and he knew that he couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t leave her ever.
Presently he rose and dropped his dressing gown on the floor as she got into the bed, opening the covers so that he could slide in beside her. Once in the bed, he held her close, and she clung to him as if frightened that he might suddenly abandon her. They lay side by side for some time like that, and then suddenly she whispered into his ear the words he thought he would never hear.
“Martin, I want you to make love to me.”
“Are you really certain?”
“If I don’t do this now, I never will”
And so it was. Slowly and gently he kissed and caressed her, slowly rousing her passion to fever pitch. Lovingly and tenderly he caressed her whole body, feeling the silken texture of her skin, the delicate shape of her breasts, the curve of her buttocks, and all along the curve of her back. At first she was as rigid as a board, and then as the minutes passed she gradually relaxed. Nervously at first, she allowed herself to respond, and he kissed her and encouraged her, allowing her to build up her confidence in being a woman at her own pace. Presently he was aware of her releasing the last of her tensions and inhibitions as her body began to quiver with anticipation. Slowly at first and with ascending passion they made love together, and for each of them it was an experience that transcended everything. They made love not once, but time and time again, finding in each other the fulfilment that they had both denied themselves for too long. Finally they both slept from sheer exhaustion, still wrapped lovingly in each other’s arms.
Martin woke suddenly to realise that sunshine was streaming into the room. For a fleeting moment he couldn’t work out where he was, and then the memories of the night came flooding back. At first he thought that he was still dreaming, and then he realised it wasn’t his own bed that he was in! A faint rustle of movement caught his attention, and on looking round he saw June standing a few paces away from the edge of the bed.
She was dressing, standing there in the early morning sunlight wearing just the tiniest pair of briefs, and in the act of fastening a small lacy bra around her small but perfectly formed breasts. She heard the movement of bedclothes and looked across, her face breaking into a dazzling smile as she saw that he was awake.
“Oh Martin,” she cried softly, her eyes glistening with pleasure. “I’m so happy I could sing; you have freed me from a nightmare! I am not frightened anymore; you have turned me into a woman, a real woman! You have shown me what true love is; and I know that I could never love anyone as much as I love you!”
She stepped quickly across the room as she spoke and sprang on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. He responded with a will, throwing back the covers and drawing her in with him.
“I love you June,” he said between kisses, “I love you as I have never loved anyone. I never believed that happiness could come twice to man, but you have made me the happiest man in the world. I’m never going to let you go, do you hear? Never!”
There was no controlling their mutual passion, and in no time at all she was naked once more as again they made passionate yet infinitely tender love on the rumpled bed. Only as they paused to regain their breath did June finally disengage herself and resume her scattered underwear in between exchanging several passionate kisses.
“I honestly don’t want to go,” she whispered. “I’d love to spend all day making love to you, but the girls will be up soon.”
“Who cares,” he said recklessly. “I’m in love, and I don’t mind who knows!”
“Yes you do; now get back to your own room and try to look serious when you come downstairs a bit later, and not like a cat that’s just found the cream!”
“Now how can I possibly manage to look serious?”
“I don’t know,” she laughed. “You will just have to try!”
With one last lingering kiss he slipped on his dressing gown and tiptoed back to his own room, his head now in a total whirl. He gathered up his washing kit and vanished into the bathroom, and finally returned to his own room as June had suggested. About half an hour later he heard the girls pass by his door, and after a decent interval he descended the stairs, doing his best to look as if everything was the same as normal, yet secretly he was still absolutely seething with rampant desires and emotions!
Breakfast was a lively affair with the two girls full of excitement about the coming trip to the theme park, and even when Martin announced on the way to the car that he wouldn’t be with them, their temporary disappointment soon vanished. There was no opportunity for any personal conversation, but Martin couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in June’s eyes whenever she looked at him, and each time his heart leapt upwards. Sooner or later he would have to tell Beverley, but right there and then was not the time. When all was ready, he drove them to the station, having provided June with ample funds to ensure that the girls had a good time, and made June promise to phone him as soon as she was back on the train for the return journey so that he could be there with the car to collect them. He stood there on the platform waving to them until the train pulled out of sight.
Once he was back in the car, he sat there for several minutes lost in a romantic daydream, and only by a supreme effort did he bring his mind back to reality. That he was now hopelessly and completely in love was beyond question; he hadn’t felt even remotely like this since he had first met Alicia. He found that he could now think uninhibitedly of both women who had figured so much in his life without the old feeling of guilt. Somehow, he just knew that wherever she was, Alicia would approve of June, and that was all that mattered to him.
He drove back to Wellworthy at a leisurely rate, and having parked his car in its usual place he returned to the solicitor’s office. Miss Grayson recognised him at once, informing him that Mr Dobson was with a client, and should be free in about ten minutes. Thanking her, Martin asked if Mr Perkins was free, and a few minutes later he was sitting in a chair by the young man’s desk, a cup of tea ready to hand.
“Tell me,” Martin said after the usual pleasantries were out of the way, “do you happen to have any old plans of Springwater House tucked away here?”
“I really don’t know,” the clerk answered. “If we do, they are probably down in the cellar along with all sorts of odds and ends. I could look if you like?”
“Well, not right this minute; if you have time before weekend is out I wouldn’t mind having a look at them.”
“I’ll certainly see what I can do; is there a problem then?”
“No, not really, just something I wanted to check up on.”
“Do you want me to ring you if I can find anything?”
“Well, if it’s not too much out of your way, perhaps you could drop them off for me on your way home?”
“It’s no trouble at all Mr Isherwood. If you don’t mind me asking, how is everything going? I mean, have you decided what you are going to be doing with the place yet?”
“No, not really,” he hedged. “Tell me, have you any idea how the house got its name?”
The clerk scratched his head thoughtfully for a moment.
“I think there used to be a well there some time,” he said at last. “Quite a number of the older houses up that way had wells; they all fell into disuse years ago when a proper water supply was laid on. Even those places that still have wells can’t use them anymore. Since the
y put the pumping station in over at Rammington Hill the water table has dropped considerably. They are mostly used as ornamental features now.”
“Any idea whereabouts the one at Springwater House might be if it still exists?”
The younger man shrugged eloquently. “Search me,” he said. “Somewhere to the rear I should imagine, that’s where they usually were.”
“Well, if there was ever one there, I haven’t seen any sign of it.”
“Maybe there used to be one where you’ve got that ornamental pond now? It would explain the name of the house wouldn’t it? If the well was spring-fed as most of them I believe were, then where better to put a feature like that, eh?”
“I expect you’re right.”
“You could ask George Dawkins, he would know if anyone would.”
“That’s an idea; I’ll do that.”
At that moment Miss Grayson came up and told him that Mr Dobson was free. Taking his leave of the clerk and draining his tea, he followed the receptionist into the solicitor’s office. Mr Dobson rose to his feet as he came in, shaking his visitor warmly by the hand and inviting him to take a seat.
“And what may I do for you this morning?” Mr Dobson asked after the usual pleasantries had been attended to.
“To be honest, I am not absolutely sure,” Martin admitted. “Certain information has come to my attention, the upshot of which is that I need to say something to you which I hope will make sense. If it does not, I hope that you will excuse the mistake on my part?”
“This really sounds most intriguing,” the solicitor replied, “I trust I will not disappoint you.”
“This is the end result of some private research I have been undertaking at the house,” Martin continued, watching carefully for the man’s reactions. “There is no point in procrastinating I suppose, so I will come directly to the point. The phrase I need to use is this: Abbadon 5791”
He sat back, still watching Dobson’s face intently. This was it, the make or break point. Either he had got it right, and the answers he sought would be revealed, or he would be totally wrong, and he would have to offer the man some sort of explanation for what would otherwise seem a piece of inexplicable nonsense.