Sleeper’s Castle

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Sleeper’s Castle Page 43

by Barbara Erskine


  ‘Well, that’s easy. We’ll hide the car keys.’

  ‘She’s not drunk is she?’ she said suddenly.

  Bryn stared at her. ‘At this hour of the morning?’ He sniffed. ‘No smell of alcohol. This happened to Joe, didn’t it,’ he went on as they walked down the stairs. ‘This is what made him leave?’

  Sian stared at him. ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘It freaked him out so much he left the next day.’

  ‘But Sue stayed.’

  ‘Sue is a tough cookie.’

  ‘But now she’s gone away for a whole year. Did you ever wonder if she was planning to come back?’

  Bryn followed her into the kitchen. ‘I did, yes.’

  They sat down at the table.

  ‘The strange thing is, I don’t find this house scary,’ Sian said. ‘There are one or two houses near me at home which I find really spooky and cold and I wouldn’t spend the night there if you paid me, but this place has always seemed so friendly, somehow.’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ Bryn replied quietly.

  They both turned at a sound behind them.

  ‘What are you both doing here?’ Andy was standing in the doorway.

  ‘You’re awake!’ Sian cried.

  ‘What do you mean, I’m awake? Of course I’m awake.’ Andy had changed her sweater, Bryn noted, and brushed her hair. There was no sign of the new bandage under the long sleeves of her jumper. Her face was pale and tired.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

  She glared at him, irritated. ‘Of course, why shouldn’t I be?’ She eyed him. ‘You weren’t out there earlier were you? In the cave?’

  ‘No. I was weeding.’

  ‘Strange. I thought I saw you there.’ Andy shivered and rubbed her arms. When her hand ran over the bandage she flinched.

  ‘You’ve hurt yourself,’ Bryn said gently.

  ‘I must have caught my arm on something.’

  ‘I know. I saw the blood.’

  ‘You saw—’

  ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t prying. I was worried so I rang Sian and we rebandaged it for you.’

  She gaped at him. ‘What are you talking about? Why on earth didn’t you wake me?’

  ‘Because we couldn’t. We shouted and we shook you and we even tried a cold flannel. You were too far away in your dreams. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been in your bedroom, but I was worried when I couldn’t find you and when I saw the blood I thought that wretched woman had tried to kill you.’

  She rubbed her face wearily. ‘It wasn’t Rhona. I was dreaming.’ It was coming back to her slowly. ‘I was in a panic. I had to get out of there. I tried to snap out of it like Meryn showed me, and it didn’t work.’ Her teeth were beginning to chatter. ‘You grabbed me,’ she glared at Bryn. ‘You were angry. You thought I was a ghost.’

  Bryn caught Sian’s eye and raised his eyebrows. ‘I didn’t touch you, Andy, except to feel your pulse and make sure you were all right. Sian was there. She’ll tell you.’

  ‘So how do you think this happened?’ She was becoming more and more confused. ‘You grabbed my arm and reopened the wound. You were so angry. You thought I was spying on you.’ She couldn’t stop shivering.

  Sian went over and put her arm gently round Andy’s shoulder. ‘Come and sit down. Let me make you a hot drink,’ she said firmly.

  Andy didn’t protest. Sian busied herself with the kettle and mugs and a few minutes later put three cups of tea on the table.

  Bryn sat forward. ‘Andy. Who do you think I am?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’ She stared at him. She cupped her hands around the warm mug, still shivering.

  ‘Was I in your dream with you?’

  She screwed up her eyes as though she were trying to focus. ‘I don’t understand. Of course you were.’

  ‘I was there, with Catrin and with you, in the past?’

  ‘I, I don’t know.’

  ‘It wasn’t Bryn there, was it,’ Sian put in quietly. She leaned across and put her hand over Andy’s wrist. ‘You’re confused. Bryn couldn’t have been there, could he.’

  ‘Edmund. It was Edmund,’ she said at last.

  Bryn gave a sigh of relief. ‘Well, at least we’ve got that straight.’ He glared at her. ‘I hope this Edmund is a fine upstanding fellow,’ he added sharply.

  ‘He is.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘He’s very good-looking actually. I am sorry I muddled you up.’

  Sian laughed. ‘You’re blushing, Bryn!’

  ‘I am not!’

  ‘Please, ring Meryn,’ Andy looked from Bryn to Sian and back. ‘I need to talk to him.’

  They tried Meryn’s phone again. ‘It’s still switched off,’ Sian said, worried. ‘And it’s not taking messages. Oh, he is so irritating, that man! He might have known we would be trying to contact him.’

  ‘Try the landline,’ Bryn suggested.

  ‘It’s dead.’ Sian stared at the phone accusingly a minute later. ‘It’s completely dead.’

  ‘Do you think Rhona cut the line?’ Andy put in quietly. The tea seemed to have revived her. ‘Oh God, it’s the sort of thing she would do. You know she punctured all four tyres on his car.’

  ‘She did what?’ Bryn stood up, pushing back his chair.

  ‘She was up there wandering around spying on him.’

  He stood up. ‘Listen, Sian, you stay here with Andy. I’m going to drive up to Meryn’s and make sure he is all right.’

  27

  Half-hidden amongst the trees near Meryn’s gate was a small red convertible. Bryn pulled up sharply and stared at it. Rhona was here.

  He climbed out to investigate. Her car was locked, the bonnet cold. She had obviously been here some time. He shivered. He glanced round, taking in every possible hiding place, every hollow in the landscape, every small, knotted tree. A thrush was working in one of the thorn trees, industriously collecting haws from the brittle twigs. It would not be there if there was anyone hiding nearby. He looked round one final time then he climbed back into his van, reversed and drove back up the track, slowly, keeping his eyes skinned.

  Meryn’s car wasn’t there. When Bryn knocked there was no reply. He made his way around to the back and knocked again then he glanced round the garden. It was open, windswept, the bushes and shrubs low-lying and bent against the force of the west wind even though the cottage huddled into a low bank in the hillside which acted as shelter. If Meryn were there he would see him.

  Bryn went back and surveyed the front of the house and it was then he spotted the phone line. It had been cut through near the wall and the loose ends had been neatly tucked into the creepers so that they didn’t dangle on the ground. He heard a distant yelping cry and glanced up. A pair of buzzards were wheeling on the updraughts from the hill, high up, almost out of sight above the ridge, their huge wings no more than black dots against the heavy grey of the clouds. They probably knew where Meryn was.

  He took out his mobile. Sian answered at once.

  ‘I can’t find him but Rhona is up here somewhere. Her car is parked at the end of his track and his phone wires have been cut. Don’t say anything to Andy. We don’t need to worry her at this stage, but be careful.’ He switched off the phone. The buzzards were closer now. They were circling the high common. He could hear their mewing calls, sounding ever more urgent on the still, cold air.

  Sian had gone upstairs with Andy and helped strip the sheets with their drying bloodstains off her bed, throw them in the washing machine and put her discarded jumper in the basin to soak. Then she had gone back down to the kitchen while Andy had a shower. It was as she was sitting at the kitchen table that Bryn had rung.

  The call ended, Sian went to check the locks on the front and back doors with a shudder. She glanced upstairs. All had been silent up there since she came down. Bryn and Meryn would be back soon. No one could get in. All she had to do was wait.

  Upstairs Andy had wandered into her bedroom wrapped in her dressing gown and only then did she allow he
rself to recall her dream.

  She could remember it clearly now; Edmund had turned on her. He had walked towards her angrily and grabbed her arms. He had seen her, reacted to her as a real person. He had hurt her. Hurt her, Andy, in the twenty-first century.

  Or had it been Bryn?

  She sat down on the edge of the bed. He had looked uncomfortable, embarrassed even when she accused him. Surely he could not have been there in the dream. Or was Edmund here in real life in her bedroom? She felt a wave of heat sweep over her. She wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but she had made that mistake only once before, muddled up the past and the present, and then too, it had been Bryn and Edmund who had confused her.

  She closed her eyes with a shiver.

  ‘Catrin stop it!’ Edmund had his hands on her shoulders. He shook her gently to stop her screams. ‘She has gone. I don’t know who or what she was, but she has gone.’

  Catrin was still shaking with fright. ‘I have never seen her so close. She is a ghost, Edmund. The woman with buskins.’

  He clenched his jaw with pain as she pressed against his chest.

  ‘Oh, Edmund, I am sorry.’ She drew back.

  ‘No. No, don’t be.’ He pulled her close again and bending, kissed the top of her head. ‘She was more than a ghost. She was solid flesh!’

  ‘Her name is Andy,’ Catrin said as she nestled against him, more careful of his wound this time. ‘I have heard her friends talking in the echoes of the house and that is what they call her. She means me no harm.’

  Andy watched, her heart thudding, aware that she had drawn back, hidden amongst the bushes, not wanting to spy but unable to look away as he bent and kissed her again, properly this time. At last he pulled away and, catching Catrin’s hand, he pulled her with him back towards the house. It was deserted, there was no one there. She watched as they ran through the kitchen and up the stairs to Catrin’s bedroom – Andy’s bedroom – and fell together onto the bed. Then she turned away.

  Bryn had climbed back in to his van, not sure what to do next when there was a knock on the window. When he recognised Meryn he slid it open with relief.

  Indoors, Meryn listened to Bryn’s account of what had happened. They were both looking out, watching the drive, concealed by the curtains. ‘She’s almost certainly capable of coming back to finish the job,’ Bryn muttered, switching the subject back to Rhona. It appeared Meryn had been walking on the hill. His buzzards had called him back.

  ‘You’re right. I don’t think common sense is one of the lady’s main attributes,’ Meryn said with a sigh. ‘At least if she’s here, she’s not down at Sleeper’s threatening Andy.’

  ‘She must be here somewhere,’ Bryn murmured, ‘but where is she and what is she doing?’

  They turned back to the window.

  ‘Rob Vaughan’s brother turns out to be a policeman,’ Meryn went on after a moment. ‘I know Andy doesn’t want the police involved, but this situation is escalating out of hand. The woman is dangerous. He’s going to drop in to see me, off the record, about six. When we’ve talked, I’ll get him to drive me back to Sleeper’s Castle on his way home.’

  ‘It might be as well.’ Bryn rubbed his nose. ‘This scares me. All of it. Quite apart from Rhona, I don’t think we can trust Andy. Not that she is doing it deliberately but, with all due respect to your techniques, I don’t think she is strong enough to fight the dreams.’

  ‘You may be right. Sian is there with her now you say?’

  Bryn nodded.

  ‘Good. She shouldn’t be alone.’ Meryn stiffened as he peered through the rainswept glass. ‘There’s someone out there now.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Bryn peered over his shoulder. ‘Where?’

  ‘She’s ducked down behind your van.’ Meryn grinned.

  Bryn was at the door in seconds. He pulled it open and strode out into the rain. ‘Mrs Wilson?’

  Rhona stood up. There was a clasp knife in her hand. She didn’t seem flustered.

  ‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage for the time being?’ Bryn called. ‘You may as well come inside. Let’s talk about this.’

  ‘I don’t think so!’ He could see the expression on her face, gleeful, excited like a naughty child, then she ducked out of sight. When he ran round the van to look for her, she had disappeared. He turned full circle, scanning the garden, his eyes narrowed against the rain. There was no sign of her.

  ‘Leave her,’ Meryn called. ‘We can’t hold her against her will anyway and we’ll never find her.’

  The mist was hanging over them now, dropping lower, filling the hollows and spaces on the higher ground. Meryn came out to stand beside him. ‘Did you stop her in time?’

  They surveyed the van. The tyres appeared to be intact. ‘A good job you spotted her,’ Bryn said with relief. ‘Did you see the size of that knife?’

  ‘I suspect that in itself would be a reason to arrest her,’ Meryn said as he led the way back inside. He closed the door behind them. ‘That woman’s vandalism will be top of the list of the things I want to discuss with Dai. You’re welcome to stay, if you wish.’

  Bryn was looking increasingly anxious. ‘Don’t you think I should go back to Sleeper’s Castle? She might go straight there next.’

  Meryn frowned. ‘You’re right, they shouldn’t be alone. But be very careful. My gut feeling is that she didn’t bring that knife in order to slash car tyres, that was just a fun thing to do as she was passing.’

  ‘You saw her face.’ Bryn pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. ‘She was like some kind of evil Puck figure. Gleeful. Not the least bit guilty or frightened at being caught.’

  He hesitated for a moment. ‘I’ve seen people who look and act like that before. It’s not a good sign. Meryn, for personal reasons I’ve never told anyone round here much about my past, but I trust you to keep this under your hat. I used to practise as a psychologist.’

  Meryn glanced at him. ‘Indeed?’ he said thoughtfully. ‘And it’s your professional opinion that she’s mad?’

  ‘I think she may be, shall we say, dangerously unbalanced.’ Bryn chose his words with care.

  Meryn raised an eyebrow. ‘Interesting.’

  ‘This is more than just spite.’

  ‘Are you going to tell the police?’

  ‘There is nothing to tell at the moment. Everyone who meets her must realise that there’s something wrong. First things first. I would like to know if your policeman thinks we have cause to have her arrested now we’ve caught her in action with a knife bending over my tyres. Your car is a startling piece of evidence, I would say.’

  ‘Irrefutable. Except for the fact that neither of us actually saw her do it.’ Meryn whistled through his teeth. ‘This is very different to my normal line of enquiry. I’m usually called in because people have been disturbed or possessed by unhappy or vengeful spirits. Not, as a rule, a police matter.’

  ‘Obviously not.’

  ‘But,’ Meryn went on, ‘as we both have Andy’s interests at heart, I would say we need to recognise our overlap of skills.’ He went to stand with his back to the fire. ‘I have always sensed you are not entirely unsympathetic to my areas of, shall we for the sake of argument call, expertise.’

  Bryn smiled. ‘You deal in ghosts and dreams. They were part of my training, believe it or not. And as for ghosts, well, I work at Sleeper’s Castle.’ He grinned. ‘But Rhona is something else.’

  ‘Not entirely. Andy isn’t our only dreamer. I think there is more than jealousy or resentment or even mental instability motivating Rhona’s behaviour. From what I sense of her aura, she is herself a sensitive. I suspect she was motivated to come up here by some kind of a psychic link to Andy and I suspect they’re both being fed by the currents of energy that wash around Sleeper’s Castle.’ Meryn was staring down at the rush matting at his feet. He glanced at Bryn’s face. ‘Scientist or not, you feel all this too.’ It wasn’t a question.

  ‘Which is probably why I gave up practising psycho
logy and became a gardener.’ Bryn gave a wry grin. ‘I couldn’t work at Sleeper’s Castle and not believe it.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Meryn nodded. ‘We should work together, then.’

  Rhona scrambled into her car, soaked to the skin and pulled the door shut behind her. She sat back, her head against the headrest and began to laugh. That man’s face! He had caught her about to slice the tyres on his precious van and he had been calm and polite and called her Mrs Wilson! What a weak fool! She forced her wet hand down into her clammy raincoat pocket and brought out the knife. It was seeing that chisel in the old man’s hand that had done it, the blood, dripping from the blade. At the mere sight of it she had felt such a surge of power and excitement she couldn’t contain herself.

  She looked up. The inside of the windscreen had steamed up; she could hear the rain pattering on the fabric of the roof. She was in a world of her own. She unfolded the knife and ran the blade gently against her thumb. It was sharp. It didn’t take much pressure to draw blood. She stared at her hand exultantly as the hairline of scarlet appeared. The feel of the handle against her palm was glorious. She laid the knife reverently down on the seat next to her and sucked her thumb before groping for the ignition key.

  She was tempted to return to Sleeper’s Castle and see what had happened. She had been a fool to run away, but it was too late to change her mind now. Instead she would drive back to the pub where she was staying in Brecon before those two had the nous to call the police. She leant forward to wipe the windscreen with the back of her hand and began to turn the car.

  Dai Vaughan arrived at ten past six, shortly after Bryn had left. Meryn showed him in and the two men sat down on either side of the fire.

  ‘I want this to be entirely off the record, at least for now,’ Meryn started. ‘I’m not at all sure of my ground in this and I’m going to make some pretty forceful accusations. I just want your opinion and, if we can think of anything sensible to do about it, your cooperation.’ He glanced at the younger man’s face and was reassured by the strength of character he saw there. ‘I suspect someone is planning a murder.’ He had promised Bryn he would keep his name out of it for now. ‘She has tried once, and she will try again.’

 

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