He took a step towards her. She could see a strange light reflected in his eyes. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘Yes. Confused, but all right.’ She brushed her fingers through her hair. ‘What the hell were those dogs?’ She glanced over her shoulder, but there was no sign of the animals. ‘They seemed… almost unreal.’
‘They are the sad hounds,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t let them frighten you off.’
‘They didn’t look particularly sad to me.’
‘But they are. Their owners followed them onto thin ice and drowned, or tried to push them from an oncoming lorry, or a train. They are lost and alone, so they are here. The dogs run at night together. They love, like humans do, and for them the kiss of fame was short but penetrating.’
This was not the Dex whom Jay had known. He talked with the hollow voice and opaque words of a prophet or a holy man. Was that what he had decided to become, here in the land of the god, for whom he worked? Or was this little speech merely to fend off more personal and perhaps painful conversation?
‘I came to find you,’ Jay said. ‘I knew you’d be here.’
‘You couldn’t find me. I found you.’ He came closer, and Jem cringed away.
Jay wasn’t so intimidated. ‘No, I think you knew I’d find you.’ She held Jem against her.
Dex smiled; a reflex. ‘Perhaps some part of me did want to be found, but I’m not aware of it.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Let’s go back to the village. We need to talk.’
‘We do, but not yet. I want to see Lorrance, find out what the fuck’s happening here.’
Dex shook his head. ‘You won’t. You can’t. It’s a waste of time.’
‘I have to try.’ Jay took a firm hold of Jem’s hand and marched forward towards the glimmer of stone. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to confront Lorrance. Jay needed to see the house close up. She had a feeling no-one was at home, anyway, but in the circumstances, that might be better. She could take a look around.
Dex watched her for a few moments, then relented and caught up to walk beside them, some feet away. ‘You shouldn’t be here, Jay.’
‘I know,’ Jay said. Her heart was beating fast. ‘But I am.’ In a way, she couldn’t accept Dex was there beside her. She had looked for him, asked questions, but now that he’d shown himself, he seemed like a dream. She knew him, yet she didn’t. ‘Have you been here all the time?’ She couldn’t imagine him co-operating in the simple, idyllic routines of Lestholme.
‘Mostly.’
Jay shook her head. ‘It doesn’t seem likely somehow. Are you telling me the truth?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you come to me before? Why wait until now?’
He shrugged. ‘I wanted to, but sometimes I didn’t. I felt I shouldn’t involve you. It’s not fair.’
Jay laughed. ‘Involve me? I’m involved whether you or I want it or not, aren’t I?’
He smiled. ‘I know I shouldn’t be glad you’re here, but I am.’
‘You must have been lonely…’
He frowned. ‘Please, Jay, not now.’
She could tell her words hurt him. ‘So,’ she said, in a more brisk tone, ‘are you here because of Lorrance, or through him?’
‘Both.’
Jay sighed. He’d said he wanted to talk to her, yet his answers to her questions offered little. ‘It’s obvious Lorrance has set himself up here as some kind of feudal lord,’ Jay said. Will you tell me how I got here? Did you arrange it somehow?’
‘No,’ Dex said. ‘You created your own gateway, which means things must have got tough for you. I did warn you.’
‘Warn me? You didn’t warn me of this. I drove off into the night, then ended up losing some months of my life. What did they do to me? Was it a tranquillising shot from across a field?’
‘It didn’t happen like that. You’ve lost no time. In fact, you’ve probably gained some.’
Jay made a disparaging sound. ‘Dex, please! I can’t accept that. I’m not gullible like those poor creatures in Lestholme.’
‘I couldn’t have explained any of this to you when I last saw you,’ Dex said. ‘You wouldn’t have believed me, and I can see you still don’t believe, even though you’re living it. I’m amazed you got in here. You must have been temporarily desperate. What happened?’
‘Didn’t Julie tell you?’ Jay asked.
Dex paused before answering. ‘The communication I have with Julie isn’t like speaking on the phone,’ he said. ‘I knew you’d been to see her, and that you’d found the box, but not what happened afterwards.’
‘My life fell apart,’ she answered, ‘courtesy of Sakrilege, I think.’ She explained all that had happened, a story to which Dex listened without commenting, but she could still feel his anger on her behalf. ‘So, I’d lost my main avenue of work, my lover and was in danger of losing everything else.’
Dex shook his head. ‘God, Jay, I’m sorry you went through that. You shouldn’t have. You really don’t belong here.’
‘Tell me about it.’
They walked through a thin fringe of tall firs and then the house was before them. Close to, it looked odd. There were no pathways around it, no garden. It just stood in a field. Jay couldn’t even see a driveway now, and the windows were depthless black holes, reflecting no light, even though the moon shone full and bright.
Jem said, ‘I don’t want to go near that place.’
‘It’s safe,’ Dex said. ‘You’re in no danger. You’ll soon see why.’
‘Jay,’ Jem said. I’m not sure.’
‘It’s OK,’ Jay answered. ‘I don’t feel there’s any threat.’
Dex led them up to the gleaming frontage and then disappeared through the front door, which must have been open. Jay could see nothing beyond but darkness, and for a moment she too was nervous of venturing forward.
Dex’s voice called to them from the other side. ‘Come on. There’s nothing to be frightened of.’
Gripping Jem’s damp hand firmly, Jay stepped over the threshold. For a moment, she stood in utter stillness, then said softly, ‘What is this?’
The house was a white shell. There was nothing inside; no rooms, no roof, only a lawn from wall to wall and the moon shining high overhead. It did not even look as if it had ever been a proper dwelling. Looking up, she could see no sign that floors had once filled it. The white walls were flawless. It was like a stage set.
‘You see now?’ Dex said, gesturing around him.
‘It’s a folly,’ Jay said.
‘I don’t like it here,’ Jem murmured.
‘It’s not a folly, but an impression,’ Dex said. ‘A sign-post between the reality of Lestholme and the outside world.’
‘The house of God,’ said Jem.
Jay pulled a sour face. ‘Lorrance built it so that the villagers think he lives here, keeping an eye on them.’
Dex smiled wanly. ‘No. It is a house, Jay, and under different circumstances, in a different location, you could visit it, climb its stairs, look into its rooms.’
‘Where is it, that other house?’
‘It’s the same one, and it’s here, but not here. Lestholme is nowhere, Jay, and to get here you have to want to be nowhere. Some people kill themselves, some people disappear, and of that latter category, some end up here.’
‘You’re telling me this is some weird reality shift or something?’ Jay uttered a caustic laugh. ‘I can’t buy that, Dex. It doesn’t happen outside of books and films.’
Dex shook his head and smiled. ‘Always the sceptic. Believe what you like. It makes no difference to what is. There are different levels of reality, and they can be accessed by altered states of mind.’
‘That brings me back to my earlier suggestion,’ Jay said. ‘Drugs.’
‘It’s not that, but concentrated emotion or will.’
Jay went to examine the walls close up. They were like porous marble, glittering under the moo
n. She rubbed her fingers over the stone. It felt rough beneath her touch, as if weathered. ‘What has Lorrance got to do with it? Why is he seen as a god by the people here?’
‘It’s complicated, and I don’t think you’ll readily accept the explanation.’ Dex sighed through his nose. ‘Come back to the village now - we’ll talk.’
As they walked back across the fields, Jem said, ‘I can’t believe we did it. We got into the house.’ She sounded excited now; relieved and proud of herself.
‘You can enter it if you believe you can,’ Dex said. ‘Most of the villagers don’t want to see the empty shell, but that of course has always been the problem with religion.’
They went to the small pub in the centre of Lestholme, and here Dex bought pints of beer. It was the first time Jay had visited the place. At one time, she’d almost always had a drink in her hand, but now the urge to seek that temporary oblivion had left her. She didn’t even think about it.
While Dex was occupied at the bar, Jem and Jay went out into the garden at the back of the building, which was surrounded by colossal trees. The ambience was that of a Dore engraving; the foliage had the immensity and stillness of a far earlier age. Jay sensed there was water nearby, perhaps a pool or small lake, hidden among the trees. She sat down beside Jem at a wooden table, which was streaked with lichen, and spongy beneath her hands.
Dex came out to them carrying a tray. It seemed such an ordinary scene; a man, a woman and a young girl sitting in a pub garden. Jay had to struggle with disorientation.
‘So, tell me what’s going on,’ Jay said. ‘If anyone can, I’m sure it’s you.’ She sipped the ale Dex had bought her. Like Ada’s whisky, it was full of flavour but not any Jay associated with beer. ‘How did you get here? Can you remember?’
Dex sat down beside Jem, who wriggled slightly away from him. ‘Always the journalist,’ he said. ‘Asking questions.’
Jay shrugged. ‘I’ve always asked questions. I’m a journalist because of that rather than the other way around.’
Dex nodded. ‘I got here because there was no other place to go. If I wasn’t here, I might be dead. I’d had enough.’
Those last few words hurt. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Jay demanded. ‘For God’s sake, Dex, why just walk out? We could have worked out whatever problem you had. What you did was so cruel. Didn’t you even think about what it might do to me?’
Dex’s dragged his fingers over his face. ‘I know I should have, but… People in my state of mind don’t think about others, Jay. It’s never as neat as that. I loved you, I really did.’
Jay herself would not admit to Dex she might still love him, but his use of the past tense still stung.
‘I thought about killing myself,’ he said, ‘but lacked the guts. So I walked. And ended up here. But I wouldn’t collude in it. I haunted this place, explored its dark corners. For a while, I lived with some people, and time passed by like water. I did a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that, despite everything, I belonged here.’
‘Then why come out to find me?’
‘Because, despite what you might think, I do care about you. I didn’t want you to get hurt. I wanted to warn you.’
She held his eyes for a moment. This was so difficult. Neither of them really knew how to behave with the other. They’d had no formal ending, yet it was impossible to carry on from where they’d left off. ‘Other people don’t seem to come out of Lestholme,’ she said. ‘Why are you so different?’
He shrugged, placed his beer carefully on the table. ‘I’m different, because I’m part of Rhys Lorrance’s world. I have a foot in both camps.’
‘Rhys Lorrance,’ Jay said softly. ‘Exactly what part does he play in this?’
‘Lorrance has friends even more powerful than himself. They help him get what he wants, and a by-product of that is Lestholme. It’s his. That’s all there is to say.’
Jay smiled wryly, shook her head. ‘No, Dex, it’s not. This is me sitting here. Talk to me.’
Dex tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. ‘Lorrance works for Three Swords, owned by Lester Charney. The higher you go within any corporation, the more concentrated power becomes. Boards of directors are controlled by cabals - men with the most power and money. Because of their position, they understand more about the way the world works. They exploit it. Lester Charney is such a man. And Rhys Lorrance is his creature.’
‘You’re saying Charney created this place for Lorrance?’
‘Not exactly. It’s a product of what Charney has done for Lorrance, what he’s taught him. I don’t think Lorrance’s even aware Lestholme exists. He’s a symbol of what created it. It’s his curse, perhaps, but unacknowledged. He doesn’t take responsibility for it.’
‘What has Charney taught Lorrance exactly?’
‘The ultimate. The extreme. How to grow fat on the life force of others.’
‘This doesn’t make any sense to me.’
‘I’ll tell you my story,’ Dex said. ‘As you’ll already have learned, it’s the tradition of Lestholme, and it might help you understand.’
Chapter Six
From the first days of their working together, Rhys Lorrance had singled Dex out for attention. Perhaps he had seen in Dex some thread, some link that advised him his protégé might have the same hunger for power he did, as well as enjoy the same avenues of pleasure. After three years of Dex being with Sakrilege, Lorrance had told him about a select group of friends, who would meet every month or so at the Emmertame estate. ‘In this business, with all its pressures,’ Lorrance said, ‘we need our release. And you’ll meet people there, people who will be useful.’
Rhys Lorrance was not the sort of person Dex would normally consider befriending, but there was something compelling about Lorrance. When he gave Dex his attention, Dex never doubted he was the whole focus of it. Lorrance might be a hard-headed businessman, but he was always good company. If anything, he seemed to have great empathy with people, to know their secret selves, upon very short acquaintance. Perhaps that was part of why he was so successful.
Lorrance’s elite club included various trusted members of the Three Swords empire, certain celebrities, and shadowy individuals who were unknown to Dex, but to whom Lorrance seemed almost subservient. They were businessmen, clearly, but they were different to all Lorrance’s other friends. They had a disturbing observant quality, lurking at the edges of every gathering, as if what transpired there was a kind of tax they considered their due.
Dex himself was now unsure why he had become so involved with Lorrance’s party set. He had always felt a grudging gratitude that Lorrance had plucked him from obscurity and paid to make him a star, but in the beginning, Dex had been an idealist, scornful of big business, eager to attack it from the inside. A weakness must have drawn him in, a desire for gratification in its most fleeting, shallow forms.
Dex had started attending Lorrance’s gatherings long before he’d met Jay. It had been a secret then, and one he’d kept throughout their relationship, though at times it had gnawed at him like gall. The parties always took place at Lorrance’s country house. Sometimes Dex drove up there with Zeke Michaels, although Michaels did not attend every event. Lorrance would send Samantha away shopping in London for the weekend, and make sure his daughter, Lacey, would not be approaching the family home.
The first time Dex visited Emmertame, he’d been astounded by the luxuries; the best food, the best drink, the best drugs. The parties took place over long weekends when Jay had believed Dex was at the studio recording, or else rehearsing with his band.
The evening always began with a sumptuous meal. It would be eaten off the long mahogany table in the room that on more sober occasions served as a board-room, where Lorrance would hold meetings of a different kind. There would be presents for the guests at every place-setting: wraps of coke, a few joints, colourful little sweets. Lorrance seemed to want the meetings to have a mysterious flavour. He would toast the powers of the universe that
had given him his wealth and position, and invite his guests to petition these same powers for boons of their own. The strange shadow guests, in their dark suits, would sit there apart from everyone else; watching, perhaps supervising. Dex called these people ghosts; all they did was haunt. Lorrance said they were business colleagues, but what kind of business? Dex sensed that Lorrance too was wary of these people. He rarely kept his eyes off them for long, as if afraid they might slink off into some corner of the house, perhaps to plant bugging devices or poison the water.
After the meal, the drinking would continue, spiced with whatever narcotics were available. Even now, Dex could only recall impressions of those times; the sado-masochistic shows in dim red light, the press of hot flesh against his own, reeking breath, the scent of abandon, beyond all care. Young women would stagger drunkenly through the rooms, clutching half empty bottles of vodka or whisky, giggling together, falling upon whichever famous bodies they could find. And for those with alternative tastes, there were beautiful youths, with knowing, hard eyes and skilled hands. Dex had no doubt that every forbidden desire could be gratified in that house. Lorrance would pride himself on it.
On Sunday mornings, the revellers would come to, puffy-eyed and sick. Lorrance, on the other hand, was one of those people who seemed to shrug off the effects of drugs and alcohol. Perhaps his body was pickled in a cocktail of substances that generated energy. He never looked ill, and would take his breakfast at ten o’clock - in the garden in summer, or in the heated conservatory in winter. His guests would mill round the house dispiritedly, departing gradually in their cars. By mid-day, the house would be empty, although Dex might sometimes stay until Monday morning, when he would return with Lorrance to the city.
‘Look at them,’ Lorrance would say as his guests drifted away. ‘So easily sated and depleted.’
Dex would not comment, for he felt he was the same. And slightly soiled. He was relieved he could never recall the weekend’s events in detail.
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