The innkeeper left, slamming the door shut behind him and walked out onto the road. He could see the rest of the villagers up ahead and walked faster to catch up with them.
If he had remained in the bakery, he would have witnessed the strange sight of two clouds of swirling dark smokey ash combining as they disappeared under the fire door to take their place inside the oven. A dark red stain appeared on the stone floor in front of the oven while in the kitchen a similar patch could be seen on the flagstones beside the table top. . . . . .
Luke sat in silence as old Henry recounted the sorry tale. He said nothing, wanting his real identity to remain a secret. As far as he was concerned whoever wanted the bakery was welcome to it. It had only bad memories for him.
At last, he dared to ask the question he so desperately wanted an answer for,
‘Do you remember a girl at the bakery by the name of Bethany?’ He asked as casually as he could.
Henry glanced at him a faint recollection evident in his eyes,
‘There was a girl by that name. She were married to the baker's son, Luke, but she disappeared after the soldiers took him. Never clapped eyes on her again, and Seth, well he wasn’t the sort of bloke you would ask, if you know what I mean? Come to think of it; she was a Gypsy girl from the woods, half way between here and what was Lower Marston. The soldiers came for them, and her father was shot and killed. He was a nice bloke that Jeb. Salt of the earth but that didn’t matter to them; they’re still rounding up the Gypsies you know, sending them off to the colonies I heard.’
Luke decided to push his luck; this old fellow was a fountain of local knowledge.
‘What happened after the people were taken away, was there any trouble with the soldiers do you know?’
Henry paused in thought,
‘No, not as I recall, we never heard any more. But I did see the son one more time about ten years ago at the inn in Lower Marston. He was in a right state, drinking and asking after his wife, that would be the Bethany you were on about until the soldiers came in and took him. The locals all reckoned it was his father put him in; there was no love lost between them, especially after the older brother, Tom, left some time before. Never heard any more from him either, a rum do that. As strange families go, they were the strangest.’
Luke thought about all that Henry had said, where could he look now? It seemed to be a hopeless task, and he feared he might never find his Bethany. He still had the strangest feeling that she was close and couldn’t seem to let go.
The innkeeper put yet another tankard of ale in front of Henry, who burped.
‘If you want my advice, I’d let it go. You’ll never find her, son. She’s somewhere where she can’t be reached.’
Luke bridled at the suggestion,
‘What do you mean, can’t be reached?’ He asked.
Henry placed his gnarled hand over Luke’s,
‘I mean, let it go, Luke, be on your way and make a new start. Yes, I know it’s you, you’re much older now, but I recognise your eyes, they were always sparkling, and they haven’t changed. Let her go. You aren’t meant to find her in this life.’
Luke sat back; in this life? Maybe Bethany was dead, perhaps that’s what Henry was alluding to.
He thanked Henry, leaving orders that his tankard was to be topped up as and when necessary, leaving sufficient money on the bar. Gathering up Mary he left the inn and climbed back into the carriage ordering the driver to return to Lincoln City; there was nothing else for him here.
Mary sat beside him and slipped her tiny hand into his. She reached up to him and whispered,
‘You won’t find her; I think she’s dead.’
Luke looked down at her,
‘What makes you say that, Mary?’
‘There are some that say I have the second sight, not something you would want, though. They hang witches, don’t they?
‘Yes, they hang witches.’ He answered. Wondering what sort of girl he had adopted as his niece.
‘In that house we were in back there in your old village, something was going on in there, and it wasn’t nice. There are restless spirits, and one of them is a girl.’
‘Then, we must go back.’ Said Luke, shouting at the driver to turn around.
Lilly yelled back at him,
‘No, please don’t go back there it’s bad, evil. Nothing lives in that place, only the dead inhabit the house now. If your Bethany is there, it will only be in spirit form, and there’s no way to be sure it is her anyway.’
The coachman, confused by the argument going on behind him stopped.
‘Which is it to be master, back or forward?’
‘Forward!’ Exclaimed Mary, ‘We mustn’t go back, not yet.’
Luke waved the driver on towards Lincoln,
‘Alright, Mary, have it your way, but one day I will come back, I have to know the truth.’
Two weeks later they stood side by side at the rail of a sailing ship on their way to Norfolk, Virginia. Mary was smiling from ear to ear while Luke looked steadfastly into the waves, the image of Bethany still firmly etched into his brain.
Chapter 27
It was after five in the afternoon when Briony breezed into the kitchen. She had entered so silently Sebastian jumped and let out a little cry of surprise.
‘Briony, you half scared me to death, I didn’t hear you come in.’
She smiled and going over to him planted a warm kiss on his lips. He leaned forward to respond, but she laughingly backed away,
‘Not so fast there, we have the entire evening and night to come yet.’
Sebastian looked a little abashed, and she was once again reminded of the fragility of a man’s ego.
‘Well, it is early, and I guess we could have an early evening cuddle before dinner.’ She said, pointedly looking up to the ceiling.
The sky had darkened by the time they returned downstairs, giggling like teenagers who had discovered the joys of physical union for the first time. They made dinner together, and Sebastian thought he had never been happier. This relationship even surpassed the emotions of playing before a huge audience and receiving thunderous applause before and after his recital. He had never believed it possible to attain anything better, but now he had and by a considerable margin. The thought occurred to him that he didn’t need any talent or hours of practice to perform, it was all entirely natural. She caught the smile as this thought slipped through his mind and cocked an eyebrow quizzically.
‘Just a thought,’ He said.
‘Well, hold that thought, it looked interesting.’ She replied.
Dinner over, the happy couple relaxed in the warm glow of candlelight. Sebastian had set up several around the room on saucers; it somehow fitted in with the old building. It had enjoyed many centuries of candlelight before the advent of electricity. Somehow a romantic scene just wasn’t the same under the glaring white light of modern light fittings. They sat hand in hand at the kitchen table, somehow the living room with its new lounge suite wasn’t quite as romantic.
From time to time Briony glanced over at the old wingbacked chair but no smoke appeared, and the room was free of the aromatic smell of tobacco.
It was quite late by the time they made their way back up to the bedroom and lay side by side in a passionate embrace; soon they were both snoring gently, lovemaking put on hold by mutual consent. They enjoyed a deep dreamless slumber as a figure stood in the doorway studying them. It turned away with just a hint of sadness in its demeanour, moving silently downstairs to occupy the old chair in front of the stove. Soon thin tendrils of blue smoke rose from the chair, accompanied by a quiet sigh.
Morning found the happy couple sitting at the table eating a hearty breakfast. Briony said she had chores to do and would maybe catch up later. Sebastian had many tasks to attend to himself. The house was still in need of repairs, and he had been very slack of late, due in no small part to the arrival of Briony on the scene.
They walked out into the yard hand in han
d, and this time Sebastian was determined to see her walk up the road towards Upper Marston. They stood by the side of the road and embraced, kissing gently. Briony broke away and laughing began walking. Sebastian turned around to walk back into the yard but on an impulse turned around quickly to wave. The road was empty; Briony had disappeared. He called out her name but was answered by the gentle call of a blackbird, nothing else. He went to both sides of the road in turn and looked over the hedges, still nothing, no trace.
Puzzled, he returned to the house and poured himself another coffee, where had Briony gone, surely she couldn’t have disappeared into thin air? He sat with the cup to his lips sipping the welcome brew when he noticed the smell of pipe tobacco. He glanced around and there curling up from the back of the old chair was the unmistakeable blue smoke of pipe tobacco and setting his cup down on the table he approached it. He stepped smartly around to the front expecting who knew what, but saw nothing. The smoke was quickly disappearing, wafted away with the breeze from the open door. Rattled now he returned to the chair to finish his coffee. Instead of fear, he felt anger, whoever or whatever was cohabiting with him was not welcome, and he would not be intimidated into moving out. He slammed the cup down and shouted out loud.
‘Whoever you are you can just bugger off and leave me alone. I’ll get every spook hunter in the country here and every clergyman up to the Archbishop of Canterbury, but I’m not leaving, you are!’
After his outburst, Sebastian felt he was once again alone in the house and totally in control. He had failed to notice the thin wisp of smoke as it disappeared around the door heading for the bakery.
Something compelled him to go to the pantry. He stared at the painted iron rings on the wall and, reaching out with both hands, placed his palms upon them. A feeling of peace enveloped him from head to toe, and he smiled. No, whatever he had just encountered would not drive him away. He was better and stronger than that.
He was strangely reluctant to leave the pantry, and the rings, pleased he had decided to leave them there. Had that been his decision or someone else’s? He wondered. Everything that had taken place over the past few weeks came flooding back into his mind. That poor man who had taken his life after fleeing the house. What had he seen? And was it suicide? Sebastian walked through every room in the house and then went upstairs and repeated the search. Looking for what he wondered? He knew things were not normal here and now, being aware, would be on his guard. But he was not afraid; something seemed to be protecting him, and he had never felt threatened. He suddenly remembered his sister Caroline. She had apparently been threatened, and there was the mystery of the bedroom door, smashed to smithereens, repaired, broken again and repaired once more, no wonder she was a nervous wreck. He then thought about Briony; his heart fluttered as she came back into his mind. She had certainly been aware of something but showed no fear. It was a mystery alright, but one that would never drive him away, his appetite for intrigue was well and truly whetted.
Sebastian busied himself around the house fixing little bits and pieces from his long list of things to do. Nothing else happened to confirm his suspicions that he was not alone and time slipped by rapidly. Working tirelessly, and surprised that dusk was settling over the land, Sebastian noticed that once again the bakery door was ajar and smiling ruefully, walked over to it and flung it wide open.
‘Have it your way then, I’ll leave the bloody thing open!’ He exclaimed.
Walking inside the first thing he noticed was a red stain on the floor in front of the old fire box. It was very similar to the mysterious one which occasionally appeared on the kitchen floor. That one made a habit of disappearing and reappearing quite regularly and bending down he rubbed his fingers over the mark, lifting them up suddenly as he felt the wetness. Blood again. He wiped his hand on a piece of cloth on the side bench and continued into the building. It was getting quite dim inside now, and the shadows were confusing. He began to imagine things that patently weren’t present, chuckling to himself more in amusement than fear.
Making his way around the oven, he saw the door to the small room at the back and realised he had never been inside, so cautiously pushed the door open on its rusty hinges revealing a tiny room with a single bed occupying one side. The bed was ancient and crudely constructed, he didn’t think it would have been very comfortable. He felt compelled to sit on it. There was no mattress only wooden slats. He sat gingerly in the centre of the affair, afraid it might not hold his weight. A wave of sadness enveloped him, and he was almost driven to tears. He lay on his back full length as if he were in bed with the strong feeling that he was not alone. He could sense both a female and male presence, but neither were threatening in any way, only sadness surrounded him.
Breaking the spell, he forced himself to get up and walked out of the room leaving the door open, but as he turned to leave, he noticed yet another iron ring set in the wall. What did these rings mean he wondered? There was another one in the floor of the bakery. It was if they had been used as some form of restraint, securing a person to his or her place of work. It would have amounted to slavery and forced labour but who knew what went on in the past?
Sebastian left the bakery aware it was now completely dark. He realised he must have been laying down in the little room for quite some time although it had seemed but a moment.
Walking back into the kitchen he was immediately aware of the pipe tobacco smell once again, and without breaking step, yelled, ‘Sod off!’
The wisps of blue smoke evaporated quickly. Sebastian was alone again.
He didn’t see Briony again for over a week. He missed her tremendously and looked for her each time he had occasion to visit Upper Marston but try as he might there was no sign of her anywhere. Every time Sebastian had the occasion to walk past the estate agents, James would be at his desk; not wanting to be rude he always glanced in to be greeted by James’ theatrical smile. He wondered if he might see Briony sitting at his desk, but she was never there now. He couldn’t believe that James could hold any power over her, what could be the connection?
It was on one such occasion that on an impulse Sebastian walked into the office and sat down in front of James, he had to find out what made this man tick.
‘Long time since we caught up.’ He began.
James with his signature smile responded,
‘Yes, it’s been a while, far too long in fact, how is that delightful sister of yours?’
Sebastian had to bite his tongue,
‘She’s fine, had to go back to London, suddenly.’
‘Pity.’ Said James, ‘We were just getting to know each other. Do give her my kindest regards when next you speak to her, won’t you?’
‘Certainly.’ Said Sebastian, thinking that was the last thing Caroline would want to hear, although he hadn’t seen anything of her since the day she tore out of the driveway in her car, except for the phone call after her run in with the truck.
After a slight pause, Sebastian asked the question uppermost in his mind,
‘Seen anything of Briony lately? He said, as nonchalantly as he could manage.
James steepled his hands on the desk, another one of his annoying little mannerisms,
‘From time to time, never know when she’s going to pop up, though. What about you, seen anything of her?’
The salesman was coming out in James, and Sebastian was no match for the cut and thrust of a skilful negotiator,
‘No, actually I haven't seen her for quite some time, just curious that’s all.’ He stammered.
James skillfully changed the subject, sensing that Sebastian was not being entirely honest.
‘How’s the house coming along? He asked.
‘Well, apart from the unfortunate business with the telephone man, things are going very well. The place is beginning to look and feel like home.’ Sebastian replied, adding,
‘Why don’t you call around sometime and see for yourself?’
He observed a moment of uncertainty in Jame
s’ eyes, but he quickly recovered.
‘I certainly would love to see what you have done with the old place.’ He said, rather more forcefully than the situation called for.
Sebastian got up and moved towards the door,
‘Well, I’ll see you around then and don’t forget to call in.’ He said as he walked out the door.
James merely gave a little wave in reply.
Sebastian felt weary after the meeting and decided to walk off the stress it had caused. He meandered up to the end of the street and turned into a little laneway. James lived up there somewhere, and from what Caroline had told him he had quite a substantial house, he wondered if he might be able to pick it out.
He didn’t have to walk far. He guessed the property in front of him would belong to James. It was indeed substantial and reeked of opulence. Sebastian stood staring up at the top floor windows; something had caught his eye. It was the merest flicker of a lace curtain, but his peripheral vision picked it up and concentrating on the spot saw it move again, detecting a shape behind as if someone was peering out looking at him but not wanting to be seen themselves. He stood transfixed, and the form behind the curtain also froze.
Perplexed, he looked away and continued walking, turning into a lane which ran parallel to the main street. When he spotted the pub’s rear entry, he walked in and through the yard, passing through the main bar emerging onto the main street beside his car. Deciding he had had enough of mystery for one day he started the engine and making a ‘U’ turn headed back for Lower Marston. He had only just reached the edge of the village when he spotted a figure waving at him. Stopping and leaning over to open the passenger door he was delighted to see Briony slide into the seat and close the door. She appeared to be out of breath as if she had been running and could only wave him on.
In the short time, it took to reach the bakery Briony had recovered sufficiently enough to begin talking.
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