A Passionate Spirit

by S. C. Skillman

  Theo knew that Alice herself would have suggested communing with the spirits in the walls. This convinced him to pray more to the God he knew. But he still found it difficult to shake off his doubts. God might not answer in the way Theo wanted. Zoe could still turn up dead. Or –worse – Zoe may never be found again.

  And so he wrestled with himself and with angels or demons, he could no longer tell one from the other. The afternoon passed with no news from Carol.

  Back in the apartment where James had imprisoned the three girls, Zoe felt ready to ask Alice about the phantom child.

  “Was she a ghost? Or was she Poppy?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” said Alice. “Two of my sightings – and your one experience – I believe were genuine ghosts.”

  The two girls stood in the kitchen together. Poppy, to their knowledge, was curled up on a blanket in the apartment’s sitting room, asleep. Even when awake, she said nothing. She’d maintained her silence since Zoe first saw her.

  “You mean the ones you saw on the train and in the road?” persisted Zoe.

  “Yes,” said Alice. She leaned against the sink with her arms folded.

  “But it was Poppy you saw outside Graze in Cirencester. The little girl we have here with us?”

  Alice nodded.

  Zoe squeezed Alice’s shoulder. “James certainly hated you seeing her. And he tried to pretend she, too, was a ghost.”

  “Course he did,” said Alice. “But I believe they were keeping her hidden in the goose house with Natasha. They must have been doing it for several days. It seems unbelievable and I cannot understand what they were up to, or why they’ve done this.”

  “Does Poppy herself know why?”

  “I’ve asked her,” murmured Alice, “but the poor little thing can’t explain.”

  Zoe walked across the kitchen to the open door. “Come on. Let’s see how she’s getting on.”

  They both went through into the other room where they squatted down beside the sleeping child.

  “I can’t imagine how all this is affecting her,” said Zoe. “She says so little.”

  “Yes,” Alice murmured. She stroked the child’s head as she slept. “I hope we – you and me – will make a big difference for her. I mean, loving her and caring for her.”

  Zoe felt tears spilling from her eyes again. She raised her hand and wiped them away. “I can’t get my head round this,” she said. “What of the little girl you looked after on those two evenings, also called Poppy?”

  Alice sat back on her heels. “When I thought about the ghost child a few days after I encountered her”, she said, “two facts jumped out at me – the child was four or five years old, just the same as little Poppy, who, it seemed, attracted the spooky visitor with the heavy footsteps. And this child, too, I realised, was no ordinary physical child. And that terrified me. All three of them were connected by a strange, paranormal element. Everything stems from that.”

  Zoe’s heart fluttered. Despite its bizarre nature, on another level, in another dimension, it was beginning to make sense to her.

  She heaved a deep sigh and smoothed back hair from Poppy’s face.

  “So,” she said, looking up again, “James was scared witless by your ghost sightings. We’ve worked that one out.”

  “And he knew we’d got wind of his scam with Sonya – whatever that is.”

  “Oh my God,” said Zoe, getting up. “Sonya. I met her on Saturday. James introduced us. We had lunch together in Chipping Sodbury.”

  “What?” said Alice.

  She stood up. “Let’s go over to the other side of the room, away from Poppy; in case she wakes and listens to us.”

  Zoe followed Alice, as she suggested. Then they continued talking in low voices.

  “James took me to meet Sonya over lunch,” said Zoe. “He told me she was a film producer, and could give me an acting role.”

  Alice blew air out through her parted lips.

  “So what happened when you met her?”

  “Not much,” said Zoe with a frown. “She showed me the script, which was foul. I didn’t like it at all. She told me the name of the production company, which I’d never heard of. And she gave me some odd-tasting drinks. And she and James did a lot of whispering in the background which I couldn’t understand.”

  Alice drew a deep breath. “I think you’ve been taken in, Zoe. What did Sonya look like?”

  Zoe described Sonya in detail: her hairstyle and appearance, and the way she was dressed and her similarity to Natasha together with the ways in which Zoe felt her to be very different.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a good picture of her. And did she seem genuine?”

  Zoe considered this. “At the time,” she began, “she seemed plausible. And then…” She stopped. “When I arrived, Sonya had a drink ready for me; a toxic-looking cocktail.”

  “And you drank it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. Don’t know what it was all about, Zoe, but I think James was trying to draw you into some trap with Sonya.”

  Zoe sunk her head into her hands.

  Then she sensed she was being watched. She raised her head, looked at Alice, and then turned in Poppy’s direction, expecting to find her asleep. Instead, Poppy was sitting up, awake. She gazed at them, her eyes calm. How long she had been listening to their conversation, Zoe couldn’t tell. She stared at the child, trying to work out whether anything in her eyes reminded her of James, her supposed father. Horror of horrors. What a burden to bear. Poor little child. A father like James…

  “Poppy,” she whispered. “Tell us about your daddy and mummy.”

  Poppy nodded. “Daddy’s sick,” she said.

  “Sick?” Zoe repeated.

  Poppy nodded, but would say no more.

  Zoe turned to Alice, who was standing with her back against the wall with the window, facing Zoe and Poppy.

  Zoe gazed at her, and at the wall. Then her eyes travelled up the wall, as it had done several times since she’d been here, to the window and beyond it to the skylight, then back down to Alice again.

  Zoe stiffened. Every muscle tensed.

  Alice scrutinised her. “What?”

  “Listen, Alice. I can’t believe I’ve been here three nights and not thought of this before. You’re good at gymnastics, aren’t you?”

  “Gymnastics? I came top in my club when I was fourteen. And later, of course, I did a lot of physical work at drama school.”

  “Great! I think we can escape.”

  “How?”

  “Look, I reckon if you stand on my shoulders, you could get to that window.”

  “Right. Yes,” said Alice in a sceptical tone, as she looked up at the window.

  “Then, once you’ve got a grip on the window ledge, couldn’t you open the window? Then get onto the sill, balance yourself, and swing up to the skylight? And open it, and get out?”

  Alice drew her breath in between her teeth.

  “Yes.”

  They looked at each other.

  “Then, walk across the roof and see if there’s a tree near enough to jump onto,” said Zoe.

  “And then what?” said Alice. “What about you and Poppy?”

  “Well, if you reckon we could jump onto a tree, you need to get us up too. I suggest you take a blanket with you, over your shoulder. You’d find something to tie it onto. Then lower the rest down for me to grab. If necessary I’ll knot another one onto it. I could make a harness for Poppy then you lift her up. Untie her then let it down again for me.”

  Alice stared at Zoe, rubbing her chin.

  “OK,” she said.

  Zoe turned to Poppy. “Are you up for this, Poppy?”

  “Yes,” said the child.

  “Right,” said Alice, “let’s do it. Before James returns. But wait; it’ll be cold outside.”

  “True. You’ve got a warm jacket. I have what I’m wearing. What does Poppy have with her? Anything extra she can put on? If the worst comes to the
worst, we could be out there for hours.”

  “I’ll sort that. Then let’s go. James could be back any minute.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Sonya climbed out of a taxi at the entrance to the Church Street car park in Tetbury on Tuesday at three o’clock, and paid off the taxi driver. She was wearing a caramel-coloured Burberry raincoat and carrying a matching suitcase. A damp mist hung about the trees.

  As soon as the taxi was out of sight, Sonya walked towards the waiting Cayenne.

  The driver’s door opened and James got out.

  He buttoned his sheepskin jacket up and twisted his scarf round his neck twice.

  “What miserable weather,” he said. “But there’s no alternative. We can’t waste any more time.”

  “Not after all the trouble I’ve been to,” said Sonya. “I’ve got the keys. And the details we need for the satnav when the time comes.”

  “Good,” said James.

  “And it’s ideal weather for us, in fact,” said Sonya. “Fewer people will be out.”

  “True,” replied James, opening the boot and depositing the suitcase there, as Sonya slid into the back seat.

  “Hello, Natasha,” she said.

  Natasha twisted round in the front passenger seat to acknowledge her sister, as James slipped behind the steering wheel once more.

  Sonya showed her a bunch of keys.

  “Well done,” said Natasha, “and the directions?”

  “All taken care of,” replied Sonya.

  “Fine. We can’t afford to delay any longer,” Natasha said. “Theo’s resisting me more and more. We’ve got to be quick.”

  “Maybe. But he doesn’t suspect us at all,” said James. “We’ve been very clever. And you’ve been perfect, Natasha.”

  He reached across and stroked Natasha’s face. Dressed, as usual, in white, she looked more insubstantial than ever. She wore a fur coat over her gown.

  “God, you look so beautiful,” he said. He leaned in, took her face between his hands, and kissed her on the lips.

  Sonya heaved a deep sigh.

  “Let’s go,” she said, “we’ve got a job to do.”

  “Sonya’s right, of course,” said Natasha. “We do.” James ignored this and began to nibble Natasha’s ear. She wriggled and laughed.

  “This will all work out, I promise you,” he murmured to her. “No-one will take Poppy from us.”

  “Of course not,” whispered Natasha. “We’ll keep her safe – many others will follow.”

  “They will. I’ll make sure,” said James. “You shall have all the children you need.”

  “Please, let’s go now,” said Sonya from the back. “We’ve no time to waste.”

  “Of course, Sonya,” said James, turning the key in the ignition.

  He fired up the engine and the Cayenne glided away.

  An hour later, James brought the Cayenne to a halt on the driveway leading to the mill. Although visibility was lower now, they could discern the branches of the trees and the detail of the building ahead of them. Suddenly, Sonya electrified them with a scream.

  “What is it?” yelped James.

  “My God, I saw movement up on the roof.”

  “It’s the girls,” cried Natasha. “How did they get up there? Hurry, we must catch them.”

  They all leapt from the car.

  Alice, clutching one end of the blanket, her teeth set together, her face screwed up with the effort she was putting into it, hauled Zoe out onto the pitch of the roof.

  Poppy clung to Alice, her arms wrapped around Alice’s neck.

  Alice’s breath was coming in raw gasps now, as Zoe leaned into the roof pitch, holding on to the parapet, straining to get her balance and feeling the cold air whipping around her face. She’d stuffed the torch into her jacket pocket.

  “Well done, Zoe,” panted Alice, letting go of the blanket and hugging her friend.

  “What now?” gasped Zoe, shivering. She pulled the torch from her pocket and was about to switch it on, then thought better of it. Torchlight would attract attention to them, should James arrive unexpectedly. She returned the torch to her pocket.

  “See that tree over there?” said Alice. “It’s quite close. I can jump onto it.”

  She turned, and Zoe took Poppy from her. Alice pulled herself up onto the roof ridge, then leaned down, caught hold of Poppy once more, and pulled her up too. Zoe followed.

  “Will you two be able to jump onto the tree as well?” asked Alice.

  Zoe looked down at the frightened child she held in her arms. The whole plan started to appear in a different light. Then she threw a desperate glance at Alice. The whites of Alice’s eyes shone brighter than ever against her dark skin.

  Zoe pushed hair back from her face. “I don’t know, Alice.”

  Then they heard the sound of a car engine. Zoe’s stomach twisted. Poppy was trembling.

  “Someone’s coming,” Zoe gasped. “Could be James.”

  She stood up drawing Poppy with her, holding the child’s hand in hers, trying to get her balance on the ridge. The sharp chill cut into them and Poppy’s face already looked pinched, despite the extra clothes they’d put on her.

  “It is him,” Zoe cried. “The Cayenne; it’s pulling up.”

  “We’ve got to jump,” Alice shouted. “It’s our only hope.”

  Zoe’s heart thudded against her chest. Now James had returned, there was a high chance they’d be caught. The edge of the branch was about half a metre from the eaves. Alice would be risking her life, or at least serious injury, by jumping.

  “Are you really sure, Alice?”

  “Never been surer. Wish me luck, Zoe.”

  “Go on, Alice,” gasped Zoe. “You do it, and get help as soon as you can. I’ll stay with Poppy.”

  Alice squatted, preparing to slide down the roof pitch to the eaves. As she did so, they both heard shouts and yells from ground level. Zoe stared desperately down to the scene below.

  “He’s got Natasha and Sonya with him. Natasha’s going into…I think it’s a garage block,” she cried. “James and Sonya are heading round to this side of the building. Goodbye Alice. Good luck!”

  Alice scrambled down the roof pitch, and jumped. She landed on the branch with a great snapping and cracking of twigs, and was snatched from view. Zoe had no idea whether Alice had gained a purchase on the branch, or fallen. But of one thing she was sure. It was out of the question for her to risk Poppy’s life in a fall from the roof, or the tree. Then she clapped her hand to her head. She hadn’t thought to give the torch to Alice. Light was fading fast, and Alice would need to find help within the next hour, or she’d be stumbling through fields and woods in the dark.

  Zoe sat down on the ridge. For about ten minutes, she remained where she was, holding Poppy close. The low temperature was the least of her problems. Fear and indecision paralysed her.

  Then a figure began to emerge through the open skylight: Long blonde hair, white fur jacket, white dress.

  “God help me. Natasha,” breathed Zoe.

  Poppy pressed in at Zoe’s side as Zoe rose to her feet; and they stood together on the ridge, staring at the healer. Natasha had hitched up her gown to enable her to climb the parapet and Zoe noted her feet were bare. It seemed incongruous in such a tense situation but she wondered how Natasha had managed to climb a ladder and haul herself onto a roof in that outfit. She and Alice had both benefited from the fact that they wore trousers and sturdy, flat-heeled shoes. The climb had already crumpled Natasha’s gown, and stained silk and fur with brick dust.

  Zoe and Poppy shivered as Natasha, having reached the top of the parapet, climbed onto the ridge to join them.

  “Hello,” said Natasha in her sweetest voice. “I came up via the old-fashioned method – on a ladder. This was silly of you, Zoe, risking Poppy’s life. I suggest you both come down with me at once.”

  Poppy clung to Zoe. Zoe was so cold and frightened she couldn’t move.

  Natasha’s eye
s seemed to penetrate hers. Zoe shuddered.

  “Cold up here, isn’t it?” said Natasha. “Now, Zoe, give the child to me.” She edged her way towards them, reaching out for the little girl who shrank away from her. “Come along, sweetheart. You can’t stay up here all night and freeze. Come back down inside with me, into the warm again.”

  She trained her limpid eyes upon Zoe. Zoe felt her head swimming. Natasha took advantage of Zoe’s distraction to reach out and grab hold of Poppy. She clutched the child in her arms.

  “Alice, I expect, is dead at the bottom of the tree now. Dead or alive, she won’t escape.”

  Holding onto the child, she clambered back down the parapet towards the eaves, then across to the skylight where she slipped back inside and onto the top rung of the ladder.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Zoe scrambled back down the ladder after Natasha and Poppy. She fervently hoped that Alice had reached ground level with no bones broken, avoided recapture, and found her way to a road or lane to flag down a passing motorist. Meanwhile, her own priority was to protect the child at all costs.

  Back in the apartment, Natasha started moving around, lighting new candles and setting them on the floor in each corner. Poppy went and sat on the pile of blankets again, where she withdrew into herself, knees drawn up to her chest, head bowed. Zoe longed to go and cuddle her. Instead, she stood in the space between Natasha and the little girl. She didn’t expect to see James and Sonya for a while yet. They’d be too busy chasing Alice.

  “Here we all are,” said Natasha. “I’m glad you’ve seen sense, Zoe. I cannot achieve true spiritual union unless my helpers are wholeheartedly compliant.”

  “True spiritual union? Your helpers?”

  “I’ll explain before long,” promised Natasha.

  “Why are you doing this to Poppy?” asked Zoe.

  “She’s mine. I can do what I like,” said Natasha. “I’ve got great plans for her – and for the others.”

  “The others?” repeated Zoe, puzzled.

  “Yes,” said Natasha. “I’ve yet to collect them. But they’ll be companions for Poppy. She won’t be alone.”

  Zoe stared at her. Her heart pounded.