Sleeper’s Castle

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Sleeper’s Castle Page 51

by Barbara Erskine


  She gave a small frozen laugh. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘You don’t believe me? Which bit don’t you believe?’

  In the total silence of the room they all heard the distant siren of a police car.

  Rhona ran past them, grabbed at the door handle, wrestled with the key and pulled the door open. ‘I’ll be seeing you again,’ she said. Her face was hard and very white. Then she was gone.

  They would never find her in the new car. She leapt down the front steps two at a time, ran up the road twenty yards, then scrambled up the bank. Forcing her way through the hedge she found herself tangled in some loops of rusty barbed wire but managed to drag herself free, hearing the sound of her coat tearing as she almost fell into the field. Her stolen car was parked out of sight in her usual gateway further up the lane. She glanced over her shoulder. The police car was silent now. There was no sign of its lights. It had obviously reached its destination. She would gain valuable time while they ran up to the house and discovered what had happened. She followed the line of the hedge, eventually spotting the silver car tucked into the hedge. She scrambled over the gate, unlocked it and threw herself in. Pushing the key into the ignition and turning it she swung out onto the lane, speeding up towards the mountain road.

  She hit the cattle grid at about 80 mph, rattling the car so that it almost took off. She turned off the lights now she was on the open road. It would only be a matter of time before the police worked out that she must have come this way. There was just enough light in the sky to see by and she had to reach the turning back down towards Hay before the police emerged and saw her on the open mountainside. If they did that, there would be nowhere she could hide.

  When Meryn let himself back into the kitchen at Sleeper’s Castle an hour later he found Andy and Bryn seated at the table. One glance told him all was not well. ‘Rhona came; the police chased her away,’ Bryn said quietly. ‘Then we had another visitor.’

  Meryn glanced round. He could feel him there, the angry vengeful husk of a man who was Dafydd ap Hywell.

  ‘I can sense him,’ he said quietly. ‘I hoped he might be content now we know his story, but it appears not.’

  ‘We don’t know his story,’ Andy put in, her voice a whisper. ‘We don’t know who killed him.’

  Meryn was watching the doorway through into the great hall. Shadows flickered on the wall of the passage as a log slipped in the hearth and lay smouldering in the ash. The shadowy figure was cowering there, watching something they could not see.

  ‘This story has always been about him,’ Meryn murmured. ‘His dreams, his terror, his visions of blood. The poor man had to live with that for his entire life and even now he’s haunted by it still.’

  With a sigh he took a step or two closer to the doorway. Dafydd didn’t seem to see him. ‘It is time to rest, my friend.’ Meryn spoke out loud now. ‘How can we help you forget?’

  ‘Catrin loved you,’ Andy said softly. She tiptoed over to stand beside Meryn. ‘She never forgot you; she forgave you everything.’ She spoke with complete certainty.

  He turned towards them slowly, scarcely more than a shadow in the darkness of the hall. They could see the flickering light of the fire through him.

  ‘The Lord Owain was grateful to you for your help, I am sure he was,’ Andy went on.

  ‘You may not have died shriven, with your sins confessed and forgiven by the Church,’ Meryn’s voice was firm, ‘but they were forgiven by Catrin. Your daughter was a loving child and she learnt that love from you.’

  ‘And we can bury you in a place of sanctity, if that is your wish. Somewhere you can rest in peace,’ Andy went on.

  The shadow had faded now, but they could feel him still, a presence in the shadows.

  Meryn turned to Bryn. ‘Can we arrange to have the bones removed and placed somewhere in a churchyard with a blessing?’

  ‘If we can find the bones, I am sure we can,’ Bryn said.

  There was no sign of the police behind her as Rhona reached the signpost and swung right, locking the car wheels in a violent skid. The lane almost at once left the open common and dived back between steep banks with hedges almost touching overhead as it threaded its way down through the foothills to the valley below. She had to turn the lights back on in the near pitch-dark as she shot down the narrow muddy road. Thankfully she met no one coming the other way and emerged on the road below with no sign of any other cars in pursuit.

  She made her way back towards the main road gleefully. Those stupid people couldn’t catch a fly on their own backsides. She leant forward and turned on the radio. Music blared inside the car and she let out a whoop of delight. She was high on excitement.

  It took her several minutes to realise there was another car behind her on the empty road. She glanced up at the mirror several times. It was staying behind her. No flashing lights. No sirens. She put her foot down a bit more. Yes, it was staying behind, keeping up but at a discreet distance.

  The road was straight here with no turnings off it. She eased the throttle down a bit more, feeling the power of the car respond. She had made a good choice with this baby. She glanced up at the mirror again. The car behind had gained on her if anything. She smiled. She knew what she was going to do. She had got to know a little about these roads in the last few days. A turning was coming up soon which led to a byway through one of the small stone-built villages which were scattered through the foothills of the mountains. With luck the police car would be past the turning before they had time to react. Even if they stopped and reversed, it wouldn’t matter. She would have gained a precious few minutes and maybe lost them altogether in the network of small streets.

  She was enjoying this, pitting her wits against a carful of plods. She circled through the little town a few times, cautiously approaching every turning, creeping down sleeping streets where all the houses seemed to have darkened windows.

  When she regained the main road there was no sign of them. With a small laugh of glee she turned the music up and headed on towards the Brecon bypass. She would take the road on towards Cardiff. Once there she would be safe.

  She turned onto the A470 without noticing the car sliding out of a lay-by to follow her south. When she did notice, it was very close behind.

  She let out a curse. Was it another police car? If so it was unmarked too. And it wasn’t trying to overtake. She put her foot down slightly, watching to see what it did.

  It dropped back. She smiled and relaxed, her hands tapping the wheel in time to the music.

  The road was running between bleak mountains now, winding along the side of one range, above a narrow valley. She glanced sideways. Down to her left the hillside dropped steeply away out of sight with only the occasional post to mark the narrowness of the verge. She pulled the car into the middle of the road. This was like driving in Switzerland, hair-raising, exciting, dangerous.

  Then two things happened at once. She glanced at the petrol gauge, something she hadn’t thought to do so far, and saw that it was registering empty, then she raised her eyes and saw the car behind her had turned on its blue flashing lights. The gap between them was closing fast. She licked her lips. Problem.

  She would never know whether it was a conscious decision. She was on a high. Life was perfect. Maybe it was better to call it a day now. There was no thought; no plan. She swung the wheel hard to the left, felt the tyres leave the road, heard the scratching and splintering from the small bushes which had clung to the rim of the ravine and she felt the car take off. It swung out in an arc, music blaring, and dived gracefully into the valley below.

  ‘They will catch her, won’t they?’ Andy sat staring down at her mug of coffee. It had grown cold long since. The shadow of Dafydd ap Hywell had gone for now, but the threat of Rhona still hung over them.

  ‘I think they will this time.’ Bryn was reassuring.

  They had just had a phone call from Ella. Roy was out of surgery and had regained consciousness. He was going to be all
right. Bryn stood up to put the kettle on again. That at least was one piece of good news.

  Until now they had not mentioned Sian’s visit and the bombshell she had dropped.

  ‘Do you think Sue means it?’ Andy spoke again after a long silence.

  ‘I always liked Joe,’ Meryn put in. It wasn’t really an answer.

  ‘But you weren’t surprised when Sue said she wasn’t coming back. I saw your faces.’ Andy looked from one man to the other.

  It was Bryn who finally admitted the truth. He was making a fresh pot of coffee. He carried it over and put it down on the table. ‘To be honest, I did wonder. She didn’t really fit here. She had lots of friends, and the herb garden was very special to her, but she belonged in the sun. I could always tell when she’d been Skyping the family back home, or when she had had news from old friends; she’d get very wistful. And when she left, it was with almost undignified speed.’ He smiled fondly.

  ‘And then I appeared.’

  ‘And then you appeared.’

  ‘And stirred up a hornet’s nest.’

  ‘You did, didn’t you.’ Bryn gave a mischievous grin.

  She glared at him. ‘Sue must have seen them too: Catrin and the rest,’ she persisted. ‘Surely?’

  ‘She did have nightmares sometimes,’ Bryn conceded.

  Andy stared up at him. ‘Why didn’t you say?’

  ‘She told me not to tell anyone. She swore me to secrecy. I caught her on a particularly bad day once when she was feeling very blue. She poured out her heart to me.’

  ‘So you’ve been playing the faithful retainer and keeping schtum? Oh, Bryn!’

  ‘She also told me that you would fit here. That the house would like you.’

  Andy opened her mouth to reply, then closed it. She couldn’t think what to say. ‘But you didn’t,’ she said at last.

  ‘Didn’t what?’

  ‘Like me.’

  He was thoughtful. ‘No.’

  It was like being slapped in the face. For several seconds she said nothing then she stood up and walked over to the sink to pour her coffee away.

  Meryn was watching them in silence. He stood up and came over to put his empty mug next to hers on the draining board. ‘I’m off home now, children,’ he said quietly. ‘Bryn, I assume you will stay here tonight, to keep an eye on Andy? I’ll see you in the morning.’ He reached out and gave Andy’s arm a squeeze. ‘Ring me if you need me.’

  She watched as he let himself out into the cold darkness. Almost at once she heard the owl. Meryn’s watchdog was on duty.

  ‘I suppose that’s that, then,’ she said bleakly.

  Bryn went over and turned the key in the lock behind Meryn. ‘What do you mean, that’s that?’

  ‘If you don’t like me.’ Her voice was very quiet.

  ‘I said I didn’t like you at first. I didn’t say I don’t like you now.’

  He came to stand behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. ‘I thought you were going to be a pushy, snobby Londoner who would give me the sack.’ He smiled.

  Their faces were very close. They looked at each other, then he turned abruptly away. ‘Would you think of buying Sleeper’s Castle?’

  She turned back to the window without replying. Her reflection showed the misery and exhaustion on her face.

  ‘I gather the house in Kew is yours, now they’ve found a will,’ Bryn went on cautiously. ‘If you didn’t want to sell that, maybe you could still buy this as a second home. Will you have lots of money?’

  ‘No. No, I won’t have lots of money,’ she whispered. ‘Graham wasn’t rich. Apart from the house. He’d inherited that. And no, this ought to be a proper home.’ She sounded fierce. ‘And this is Pepper’s house. Whoever buys it would have to keep him.’

  Bryn smiled gravely. ‘He would approve of that notion.’

  As if on cue, the cat flap rattled. Pepper pushed through, stopped just inside the door and looked round apprehensively.

  ‘It’s OK, old boy. The nasty ghost man has gone for now,’ Bryn said gently. ‘And so has the nasty red-haired lady.’

  Pepper sat down and now they could see him clearly they realised there was mud on his face and one of his ears was matted with blood.

  ‘What’s happened? Oh Pepper!’ Andy stared at him in horror. She bent to pick him up, everything else forgotten for the moment. ‘He’s been hurt. Should we take him to the vet?’ She carried him to the rocking chair and sat down with him on her lap. He pressed against her, shivering.

  Bryn knelt before her, and reached out gently to run his fingers over the cat’s head and body. ‘I don’t think he’s too bad. It’s only a scratch. Ears bleed easily. I’ll get you some cotton wool and warm water. Let’s give him a sponge so we can see how bad it is.’

  He was right. The ear appeared to have no more than a superficial scratch. Having removed the mud and dried blood, Andy left Pepper to wash it again himself, which he did, purring, still sitting on her knee. She glanced up at Bryn with a sheepish smile. ‘I’ve hardly dared sit on his chair before.’

  It was ten minutes later that they heard a car draw up below the house.

  Dai Vaughan came to the back door. He looked exhausted. ‘I’m sorry to come so late,’ he said. ‘I saw the light on so I reckoned you were still up.’ He hesitated. ‘I have a bit of news and I wanted to tell you myself. I’m afraid it will be all over the TV news tomorrow.’ He looked from one to the other grimly. ‘Rhona Wilson has been killed in a car crash. She was driving down the A470 near the Storey Arms and the car went off the road into the valley.’

  Andy closed her eyes, numb with shock, and hugged Pepper close, her face buried in his fur.

  ‘There will be an enquiry as there was a police car in pursuit,’ Dai went on, ‘but the whole thing was caught on their cameras. The car didn’t skid or swerve or anything as if a tyre had burst. It turned off the road at right angles and accelerated over the edge.’ He paused. ‘It was almost as if she meant to do it.’

  He turned back to the door. ‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of such shocking news, but at least you can sleep easy in your beds tonight. She won’t be threatening anyone else with her knife.’

  They sat in silence listening to his footsteps outside, then to the sound of his car engine as his headlights flared then disappeared down the road into the dark.

  ‘It was my fault,’ Andy whispered at last. ‘If I hadn’t provoked her, hadn’t visited the house in my dreams.’

  ‘It would still have happened one day,’ Bryn said. ‘She was a deeply unstable woman and if it’s confirmed that she killed someone in the States it proves she was already seriously disturbed before you ever met Graham. You mustn’t blame yourself. This was exactly the kind of exit she would have planned for herself if she thought about it,’ he went on sadly. ‘It was dramatic, quick, exciting. I doubt if someone like her would’ve been able to face the rest of her life behind bars.’

  Andy gave a small half-smile. This was the psychologist talking, not the surly, taciturn gardener.

  ‘So you think it was deliberate?’

  He put his head on one side. ‘As Dai said, there will be all sorts of tests on the car, but my guess would be yes: deliberate.’

  ‘I can’t believe it’s over.’ She sighed. Leaning back in the chair she closed her eyes. Pepper settled himself more comfortably on her knees.

  ‘You don’t have to stay now, Bryn,’ she said after a moment.

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Pepper and I will look after each other.’

  ‘OK.’ Bryn hesitated, studying her face. She didn’t open her eyes. With a sigh he reached for his jacket. ‘I’ll see you in the morning then?’

  ‘I expect so.’

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?’

  ‘I’m sure!’ She opened her eyes. ‘Rhona has gone and Dafydd has gone at least for now. The house is at peace. I need to think.’

  ‘OK.’

 
It was only as she heard the sound of his van disappearing into the distance and realised that she was completely alone that she started to cry properly. She was crying for Rhona and for Graham and for Roy; for Catrin and Dafydd, and for Sleeper’s Castle, which would soon be on the market, and at the last for herself. She climbed the stairs with Pepper still in her arms and crawled into bed. As she pulled the covers over her head he snuggled in beside her and started to purr.

  In the solar behind the great hall at Kentchurch Court Alys had introduced Catrin to her husband, Sir John Scudamore, and their family. It was a while later that she took Catrin by the hand and pulled her away from the crowd round the fire. ‘There is someone else here who wants to see you.’

  She led her out of the hall to the great tower and up the winding stair. Two sconces threw wildly dancing shadows on the walls as they climbed. Catrin glanced up nervously as she followed Alys. ‘Who is it? Who’s here?’

  Alys glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Wait and see.’

  Halfway up the stairs, Alys halted and pushed open a door in the wall. They entered a comfortably furnished chamber with a large fireplace and windows shuttered against the night. A warm fire burned low in the hearth. Wall hangings and cushioned settles added to the room’s comfort. The room was empty. Catrin stared round but Alys had walked across the floor. She pulled aside one of the hangings. Under it was a small door in the stone wall. Catrin followed her through it and they climbed a narrow staircase which led up inside the wall, into the room above. This was furnished as a bedroom with a large bed, the tester and hangings richly embroidered. By the fire sat a hunched figure wrapped in a heavy cloak.

  ‘I have a visitor for you, Father,’ Alys whispered.

  ‘So, my little friend, Cat.’ Owain Glyndŵr looked up and smiled. He was pale and looked ill and much, much older than when she had last seen him.

  Catrin gasped. She stared at him in confusion.

 

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