Freya's Quest (26 page)

‘Because Seraphina committed suicide very shortly after you came back.’

‘Yes.’ He paused. ‘She went into a deep depression. Must’ve hidden that medallion you found around that time. She was also working manically on the painting in the folly.’

‘A fantastic piece of artwork. She far exceeded her other works with this masterpiece.’

‘Agreed….Didn’t do her much good, though, did it?’

I shrugged my shoulders.

‘Once completed, she went and threw herself off a cliff.’

‘And you’ve felt responsible for her death ever since.’

‘Of course! I could’ve ensured we escaped Faversham’s clutches long before the black ceremony actually took place.’

‘Why d’you think she killed herself? Did she leave a note?’

‘No. I’ve never understood. She had so much going for her. We should’ve been so happy. She had such talent. But she also had a delicate constitution. She was prone to bouts of depression and she could get wound up in a tight coil over even the most trivial of things. Her folly painting shows how much anguish she must have been under. Feeling the Devil’s curse upon her must’ve tipped the balance.’

I found it hard to digest. Dylan was talking very matter-of-factly, divorced of all feeling and emotion. Yet I was completely filled up with grief. Maybe even on his behalf?

‘What happened after her death?’

‘The funeral was awful. I kept staring at the congregation, wondering how many of them could’ve been part of the Circle. Veronica insisted we buried her in the chapel. I hated the idea, and only managed to force a compromise at the last minute.’

‘Burying her outside its walls, you mean.’

‘Yes.’ He seemed annoyed by my interruption. ‘I spent months in grief. I was desperate to join her. Only Janis’s love saved me from a similar fate.

‘Then I started being cajoled by Veronica into taking on Faversham’s mantle. You see, I became the Master after his death. Janis helped me out of my conflicting loyalties and confusion. I used my new position to disband the Circle permanently. I severed all connexions with those evil people. They’d all remained sinister and anonymous to me. I had to get Veronica and my mother to convey the news to the other followers. Veronica was devastated. She carried on cajoling me to change my mind. All that succeeded in doing was pushing me away from her. I hardly spoke to her for months after that.’

‘How did the two of you make up, then?’

‘Well, deep down I’m a compassionate man. It took ten years, though. We had to get over the hurdle of her selling this place, too. And then me buying the place back and systematically dismantling the chapel and disinterring Faversham. She fell on hard times, so when I bought the mill I installed her as manager. I find it difficult to trust people, so I tend to employ those I’ve known for a while.’

‘And your mother?’

‘She was very proud of my actions. But I’m sure Faversham put a curse on her, for she was never the same after that.’

‘Maybe she bore the guilt of destroying Seraphina and nearly destroying you?’

‘I’m certain she did. She spent years begging for my forgiveness, but we never regained our former closeness. She died shortly before my first novel was published.’

‘And Veronica?’

‘I’m sure she felt guilty, too; though she’s loath to show it.’

‘Can you let me go now?’

‘It’s a useful contraption, isn’t it? Built by the old Baron. The chair – apart from the headdress – is the only thing I still keep relating to the Satanists.’

‘Look, I’m bursting.’ I bobbed up and down with increasing agitation.

‘But I thought you wanted to learn everything. I’ve kept the chair up here precisely to ensnare anyone who dared invade my space. Never thought it’d work so well. In fact, come to think of it,
I never thought it’d ever be used
!’

‘Please! Please! You’ve made your point! Now let me go before I piss myself!’

He came and leaned over me, kissing me once. I was expecting him to release me, but he tucked my hair around my left ear and whispered into it: ‘I’m not going to just yet. Let it be your punishment!’

He stepped back a few paces and calmly watched my discomfort.

He didn’t take his eyes off me as I wriggled and struggled, grimaced and moaned, for the next five minutes.

When I knew I was defeated, I sank back and stopped all resistance.

‘You bastard!’ I cried, as I felt the urine filling my knickers.

WHEN DYLAN RELEASED me, I rushed down to my bedroom. I grabbed the rucksack of clothes from the wardrobe, then continued down the main staircase and out into the courtyard. I made my way over to the old stables and the Austin-Healey.

‘That’s it, run away!’ Dylan screamed from the tower battlements.

I checked myself and looked up. ‘You’re right. That would be too easy for you, wouldn’t it?’

He was too high up for me to gauge his reaction. His form disappeared from view.

I hastened back inside, retrieving a set of keys from the hallway hooks. Then I ran over to the inner gatehouse. I fled up the spiral steps and opened up Yasuko’s old quarters. I drew the three strong bolts across the door and hurried to the window.

Dylan had come down into the courtyard. He glimpsed me as I opened the window. ‘What’re you doing up there?’

‘Well, you didn’t expect me to stay with you in the main house, did you? Not after what you’ve just done!’

He cast his eyes to the ground and thrust his hands into his pockets, looking dejected. He kicked out at a loose stone on the cobbles.

I moved over to the wall and pulled out a handful of sado-masochistic gear from the cabinet. Then I cast them out of the window. The whips and canes scattered across the ground in front of him.

‘And I won’t be needing these. In case you had any ideas!’

Dylan frantically picked up the instruments of Yasuko’s torture. He seemed very confused that I knew. He cursed when he discovered one or two of the canes had been damaged. He shouted a few expletives and waved his fists at me. Then he returned inside. He seemed more intent on safely storing these items, than being concerned for me. A case in point, I thought.

I set about a detailed survey of the quarters, making sure there was no other way in. Unfortunately, an arched glass door gave access to a walkway along the top of the inner wall, leading off, with a parapet either side, to a smaller turret fifty feet away. I opened the door and walked across. The door in the turret was unlocked.

I headed down the narrow spiral steps and found myself coming out into a walled garden. This was awash with brilliant colours of roses set against a verdant background of vegetables. There was even a small orchard of fruit trees in one corner and a dovecote.

I stood perplexed in wonderment at this secret haven. I hadn’t been shown this on my grand tour and it had been invisible from my bedroom window. It looked to be a treasured private retreat.

Then I remembered what I needed to do. I hunted around the walls for any further sign of entrances. After a speedy search, I found one half camouflaged by rampant honeysuckle. Sure enough, it was open. I shut it and drew across the two bolts.

I relaxed. Now I could discard my soiled clothing and freshen up.

As I remounted the stairs inside the turret, I heard a sudden banging. I stopped, stunned, catching my breath. I peeped through an arrow slit and saw Dylan down below, kicking at the door I’d secured, in his frustration and anger. He must have seen my mad dash along the battlements, for he called out to me. I paid him no attention, not registering what he had said.

Once back inside, I stripped naked, piling the stinking clothes into the washing machine in the kitchenette. Then I tried to run myself a bath. But the water was cold. I searched for the immersion switch and turned it on. I was left for an hour, huddled on the side of the tub, waiting for the water to heat up.

This gave me time for my thoughts and for my anxieties to increase. This, in turn, blanked the past from my mind, until I couldn’t remember anything about my life before coming here.

I went into a complete panic. My whole body was gripped by violent spasms.

I steadied myself with the idea I was in too much shock over recent events. I relaxed only after immersing myself in warm bathwater. I found some bubble bath Yasuko had left behind, and its fragrance, and the caressing of the bubbles soothed me further. I stayed there until the bathwater went cold around me and goose pimples began to appear on my arms and breasts.

Later, as I was dressing in new clothes from my rucksack, I found Yasuko had left her kimonos on her bed. They had been ripped to pieces with a knife or a pair of scissors. There were seven of them, all different in colour; only now did I realize there was one for each day of the week. I discarded the garments in the wardrobe.

Then I cooked myself a meal from the assortment of tins in the kitchen cupboard.

I telephoned Janis, conveying what had happened and some of my distress. I wanted her to come straight over. But she told me I’d have to come to her rock-climbing school as she was too busy with clients. And that it was better to wait until morning. I hadn’t even realized how late it had become until I gazed through the window and saw night was beginning to fall.

She seemed upset I was bothering her. Yet she did give me detailed directions of how to find her.

Once the phone call was over, I decided to climb up to the gatehouse battlements. The walled garden was clearly in view, with the outer grounds fading away into the enveloping darkness. The courtyard was a long way down from here.

I looked across to the main house. I was at about the same height as the top of the Lodge’s roof-line. The central tower swept another three storeys above me. I noticed only the lights in his workroom were on.

The atmosphere felt very close and humid. Sweat began to build under my T-shirt. Dylan had told me convection currents were the predominant meteorological feature in August in these parts. Another thunderstorm was on its way.

I stayed up on my lofty belvedere as the first few spots of rain fell on my head and arms.

Suddenly, lightning filled the sky and a rumble of thunder soon followed. It was forked lightning. Like giant fireworks illuminating the night sky.

I glanced up and saw Dylan was standing motionless on the tower battlements. He was looking in my direction. It was too far away to make out his expression, but I was certain he was staring at me.

Then the rains came. My instinct was to retreat indoors immediately. I didn’t want to be drenched. Nor set myself up as a lightning conductor.

But Dylan remained motionless. Still looking down on me.

I became transfixed by him. Despite my clothes and hair rapidly matting against my skin in the downpour.

I couldn’t say how long I remained there. Shivering. Even when I finally withdrew, Dylan remained in position. Hours later, I was sure he was still up there in the heat of the storm, as I gazed upwards from the living-room windows.

I had a very unsettled sleep. When lying awake, I wondered whether Dylan would burst in on me at any moment. When asleep, I re-experienced the episode in the tower in a dream, even down to wetting the bed in memory of that gruesome chair.

I felt very ashamed. I had not done this since earliest childhood. A fleeting memory of that time had come back, at last. I cursed John for sending me here: I had reached my lowest ebb since my arrival at Grimshaw Lodge.

I looked at the clock: it read four. I’d wanted to get up early to avoid Dylan, but not quite this early. I stripped the bed, had another bath, then discarded the saturated sheets in the tub. Then I left.

The night air was cool and refreshing. The front door was locked, so I had to clamber through the lounge window in order to activate the portcullis mechanism from the hallway.

Once back outside, I crept over to the stables and opened the door, trying to be as quiet as I could. I climbed into the Austin-Healey and let off the handbrake. With effort, I managed to start a forward motion with my leg, hanging out of the door. This brought the car into the courtyard. The cobbles were gently cambered towards the inner gatehouse, so the weight of the car was enough to send me down towards it. I guessed at the direction I should steer through the archway, as I daren’t put on the headlights. Once I’d negotiated the opening, the drive sloped down and I began to gather speed.

I came to a standstill where the road flattened out at the bridge. I climbed out and looked back towards the Lodge. I listened carefully. No sound came out from the lightening darkness.

I sat back inside, started the engine, put on the headlights and accelerated as fast as I could towards the outer gatehouse. For a moment, my confidence grew as I approached. Then the portcullis began to descend. I applied the brakes and skidded to a halt only a few feet from the spikes.

I crumpled against the steering wheel. There was nothing I could do but head back up the driveway. I walked slowly back, resigned to the likely conflagration I would have with Dylan when I returned.

But Dylan was nowhere to be found in the inner courtyard. I went back inside Yasuko’s quarters and headed straight for the phone. After I’d dialled, I could hear a faint ringing from across the courtyard. It was coming from the tower room! I slammed the phone down, realizing I must have inadvertently dialled up the internal system. I fiddled with the phone and redialled, pacing up and down in front of the window.