Hiding From the Light (35 page)

‘Where on earth have you been?’ Alex looked up as Paula came in. ‘Why didn’t you ring me?’

She dropped her handbag and briefcase on the carpet. ‘I tried. There was no answer. I got a lift with Judith Sadler and I went back to her place for some tea. She drove me home in the end. Where are the kids, Alex?’

‘Watching telly in the den.’ He frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I must have forgotten to switch on the mobile. You look all in.’

‘I feel it.’ She threw herself down on the sofa. ‘Were they with Lyndsey this afternoon?’

‘You know they were.’

‘And they’re all right?’

‘Of course.’ His eyes slid away from hers and he hesitated.

Paula sat forward. ‘Oh God, what’s wrong? What did she do to them?’

‘She didn’t do anything. James cut himself on a knife. But he’s fine. She put some of her spooky green ointment on and bandaged … Paula?’

‘James!’

He watched dumbfounded as she ran into the den, grabbed the little boy by the hand and dragged him off to the downstairs cloakroom. There she pulled off the plaster, ignoring James’s wails of protest, and proceeded to scrub his hand.

His cries turned to shrieks of agony as the nailbrush she had seized tore into the open wound.

‘Hey! Paula! Whoa! What’s happened?’ Alex followed her into the tiny room and took the brush out of her hand. ‘Come on, Jamie, let’s find you some proper antiseptic ointment in a tube and a nice new plaster.’ He glared at her. ‘What the hell was that all about?’

She was shaking. ‘Do you know what she puts in that ointment, Alex?’

‘Marigolds. She told me.’ He patted James’s hand dry with some loo paper off the roll and rummaged in the medicine cabinet on the wall, coming out with some TCP ointment and a box of children’s brightly coloured plasters.

‘Fat from dead babies!’ Paula was shaking.

Alex and James stared at her, both shocked into silence. Then both spoke at once. ‘Yuk!’ James held his hand out as far away from himself as he could.

‘Crap!’ Alex glared at her. ‘Paula, are you listening to yourself? Here, old chap.’ He put his arm around James’s shoulders, aware that Sophie had followed them and was listening wide-eyed in the doorway. ‘You’re fine. I don’t know where Mummy got that funny idea, do you?’ He patted James on the back and gave him a little push. ‘Back to the telly, both of you.’

They went, but he saw the nervous way James clutched at his sister’s hand, something he hadn’t seen him do for a year at least. As they disappeared silently through the door, Alex turned to his wife. ‘What in God’s name is the matter with you?’

‘I had to get the stuff off him, Alex.’ Paula ran the taps in the basin and reached for the soap again.

‘The stuff, Paula, was marigold ointment. It’s made with herbs and Vaseline.’

‘Not Vaseline.’ She glanced in the mirror in front of them and held his gaze. ‘Judith told me.’

‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ Alex was exasperated. ‘You don’t believe her?’

‘She’s with the church, Alex. She’s a lay reader. She teaches at the local primary. She’s not going to make up things like that.’

‘Oh, excuse me!’ Alex’s voice rose in anger. ‘And where does Lyn get these dead babies?’

‘Sacrifice.’ Paula’s voice came out in a broken whisper. ‘Satanic rituals.’ She scrubbed harder.

‘And you think Lyndsey – our Lyn – is involved in that kind of stuff?’ He stared at her, aghast. ‘Even if I believed that it happened at all, which I don’t, and nor does anyone else if you remember all the enquiries that went on about it, how in the world could you believe that she would take part in something like that?’

‘Judith has proof, Alex. I know it sounds crazy but she wasn’t just making it up.’

‘What kind of proof?’ He leaned over and turning off the taps took the soap and nailbrush out of her hands. ‘Dry them,’ he commanded. He handed her the towel. ‘Now, come into the kitchen where we can talk without the kids overhearing us.’ He glanced over towards the door where he could hear the TV on quietly. Striding over, he glanced in. The children were sitting side by side on the sofa, uncharacteristically quiet, their eyes fixed on the screen. ‘Come on.’ He caught Paula’s wrist and dragged her into the hall. In the kitchen he closed the door.

‘You must never let them see her again.’ Paula sat down at the table and put her head in her hands. ‘Never. I’m not going to the office tomorrow. I’m going to see the rector and then the police.’

‘Paula!’ Alex was standing over her, appalled. ‘You will do no such thing. Do you hear me? Listen to yourself! You are a rational, sensible woman. This is the twenty-first century! People do not, I repeat, do not kill babies and render them down to make fat to put in ointments. Especially not gentle herbal ointments to make other children better!’

‘But Judith said – ’

‘Judith Sadler is clearly a credulous fool,’ Alex put in firmly. ‘If you are going to have a word with anyone I think it should be the head teacher at the school who is clearly harbouring a dangerous lunatic.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘Paula, think. This is Lyndsey we are talking about. Our gentle, sweet Lyndsey. We both knew she dabbles in Wicca. She probably does a few spells. She plays with herbs and crystals. For all I know she dances round the fields naked. She is not a witch. Not the kind of witch you are thinking about. She is not a Satanist. And she loves our children. She loves them, Paula!’

‘She let James cut himself.’

‘That was an accident. And you saw for yourself it was not a bad cut.’

‘Even so.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t want her anywhere near them again, Alex.’ She looked up. ‘Not ever. You’ll have to find someone else to look after them.’

As it grew dark, the mist had drifted once again, in across the mud and up the hill towards Lawford. It was moving imperceptibly in around the houses on the Seaview estate. The gate of number twenty-eight hung off its post. The front garden was full of waist-high grass and weeds, liberally sewn with crushed beercans and torn fast-food boxes.

Behind the front door, two men dragged a third to the bottom of the stairs and pulled open the door to the cupboard that held the meters. Their victim sagged, half conscious, his face a soggy mess of blood and bone as they pushed him in.

His assailants had sensed the evil in the mist. They thrived on it and inexorably it was taking them over. Common sense, humanity, had long ago left them. They did not know why they acted as they did or what this young man had done to annoy them. What they felt now was blood lust.

In a short while the red veil of the Berserker would be drawn across their eyes and their victim would be dead.

Paula got up early as usual. Neither she nor Alex mentioned the previous night’s quarrel when he climbed out of bed after her and, pulling on his dressing gown, went downstairs to make her some coffee. He kissed her and waved her off in her reclaimed car, meticulously keeping her to her usual timetable, and as she did not once mention taking the day off or going to see Mike, he assumed with enormous relief that she had cooled off overnight and changed her mind.

He was at Emma’s by nine. This time she did not seem surprised to see him. He accepted a mug of coffee and threw himself down on a chair at her table without being asked. ‘Paula and I had the most God-awful row last night.’

‘Ah.’ Emma sat down opposite him.

He glanced up at her; she too was looking very tired, he realised. There was strain showing round her eyes. ‘Do you mind if I talk?’

She smiled. ‘Feel free. Although I’m not too good in the advice department.’

‘It was about Lyndsey. Have you met a woman called Judith Sadler?’ She looked blank and shook her head so he went on. ‘Pure poison. She works for Mike Sinclair at the church in some capacity or other, as well as at the local school.’ He took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Wait till you hear what she said to Paula!’

Emma listened with increasing disbelief. ‘And Paula believed her?’ she said at last.

He nodded.

‘Poor old Lyndsey.’ Emma stood up and went to fetch the coffee pot from the Aga. She poured them each a refill. ‘I admit I think Lyn is a bit odd, but killing babies? No way! Never! That’s dotty. I can’t believe anyone would believe that.’ She sat down again. ‘Paula was up here on Tuesday night. She didn’t seem worried about the children then.’

‘Paula was up here?’

Emma nodded. ‘Warning me off her handsome husband.’ She grinned.

Alex’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oh God, Emma, I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I told her I was still too hung up on Piers to be thinking of stealing other people’s men.’ She leaned forward and patted his hand. ‘I’m pretty sure she was convinced.’

‘That’s a very naughty smile!’ Alex was struck suddenly by how pretty she was when she lightened up, and how sad she had been looking until that moment. She was fanciable; Paula was right. Very.

‘OK. Now we’ve got that out of the way,’ she went on, taking another sip of coffee, ‘what do you think we should do?’

‘Warn Lyn?’ Alex frowned. ‘Paula doesn’t want her going near the kids ever again. They’ll be inconsolable. They adore her.’

‘That’s tough.’

Alex nodded. ‘Do you think I should speak to Mike? Paula was threatening to rampage round there. She was even talking about going to the police.’ He frowned.

‘I doubt if the police would take her seriously.’ Emma folded her arms. ‘But Mike is already deeply concerned about Lyn. You say this other woman works for him?’

‘Yes.’

‘She shouldn’t spread vicious gossip like that. It’s very wrong. And dangerous.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘It’s buying into this whole witch thing.’ Emma looked thoughtful. ‘You should talk to Mike.’ She stared down into her coffee. ‘He seems a very genuine man.’ She paused.

‘Can I hear a but coming?’ Alex asked.

She shrugged. ‘I can’t make up my mind about him. I like him a lot.’ She stopped again, obviously surprised at herself. ‘But at the same time he makes me cross.’

‘A paradox.’ He grinned. ‘Perhaps you’re just cross because he’s a vicar. Waste of a good man.’

She laughed. ‘You could be right at that. But he’s not gay.’

‘No chance. Word is, he was engaged. I’m not sure, but I think the church got between him and his fiancée so when he first came here he was a bit lonely. But in spite of that, so far he’s managed to escape all female clutches.’

‘Perhaps that’s why there’s this strange antagonism between us,’ she said slowly. ‘As I said, he makes me feel cross and uncomfortable when we see each other. I can’t think why. And when he sees me coming, I get the impression he looks dead scared!’ And sometimes dangerous.

‘Either he fancies you rotten, or he thinks you’re one of the witchy folk.’ Alex gave a grim smile. ‘Perhaps it’s both! That would explain it. He sees you as temptation and he suspects you bat for the Devil’s team!’

‘Alex!’ She was indignant.

‘Sorry. OK, let’s get back to the problem in hand. Paula and Lyn. What shall I do?’

‘You can’t force Paula to go on letting Lyn look after your children, Alex. Not if she feels that strongly about it.’

‘So, I’d better go down and tell Lyn the bad news.’

‘And warn her about the gossip this woman is spreading about her. That is really scary.’ She shook her head thoughtfully. ‘The funny thing is that I’m beginning to like Lyndsey. She’s odd and different and takes no prisoners but there is something very likeable about her. I’d hate her to be hurt.’

‘She said much the same about you, strangely enough. She thinks you’re in some sort of danger.’

Emma shrugged. ‘She told me.’

‘Do you know why?’

‘Something to do with my nightmares and Liza’s ghosts.’ The smile did not quite reach her eyes as she looked away from him towards the window. He followed her gaze. She had potted up a whole lot of small herb plants and put them along the window sill, using some of the old handmade pots she had found in the barn. They looked lovely and he could smell the aromatic scents from where he was sitting.

‘Perhaps that is something you should talk to Mike about. If you two are still talking,’ he said at last.

‘I already have.’ She shrugged. ‘Yes, we’re still talking. The trouble is, I’m afraid it just confirmed his opinion of me. Mad, probably bad, and dangerous to know!’

When Mike opened the door to Paula at eight a.m. that morning, he was unshaven and haggard. ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone this early,’ he apologised as he led her into his study. ‘Please, sit down.’ He gestured her towards the armchair and went over to his desk. She was clearly dressed for the office. Charcoal suit, blue blouse, immaculate tights and shoes, discreet earrings.

‘I had a long talk with Judith Sadler last night.’ Paula wasted no time. She briskly relayed the gist of the conversation and what had happened at home afterwards. ‘So, what are you going to do?’

Mike groaned inwardly. He did not need this. Not on top of the appalling night he had just experienced. ‘Judith is a very sincere woman, Paula. But she can be less than tactful at times.’

‘I mean, what are you going to do about Lyndsey? If this is true she can’t be allowed to go on living amongst decent people!’

‘If it is true. Which I very much doubt.’ Mike sighed. ‘As I said, Judith is very sincere but her zeal can sometimes be a bit overpowering. I’m afraid I agree with your husband. At worst Lyndsey is worshipping pagan gods in her own way. Bad enough from a Christian viewpoint, I agree, but under no circumstances do I suspect her of child abuse or performing satanic rituals. I shall speak to Judith. She has no business even thinking such things, never mind spreading gossip about them. That is unforgivable.’

Paula frowned. ‘I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.’

‘I assure you, I am taking it very seriously indeed.’

Listen to the woman. She is a sincere Christian. Do as she says and send
to arrest the witch!

Mike felt the sweat break out on his forehead. He wiped it with the back of his hand. ‘If that’s all, Paula, forgive me, but I have rather a full diary this morning.’

She stood up. ‘I think this should go further. If you’re not going to do anything, I shall speak to the bishop.’

‘That’s your prerogative.’ Mike stood up too. ‘But I beg you, don’t be hasty. These things so easily get out of hand.’

‘They are already out of hand!’ Paula flashed back. ‘The whole point is to make sure things get no worse. To stop the damage. To put it right. To get her out of your parish!’

He followed her to the front door. ‘I shall consult my colleagues about this, I assure you, and I shall speak to Judith and to Lyndsey herself if she will allow me to. Please, let it rest there for the time being.’ He held out his hand as a way of finishing the conversation. She shook it firmly and turned away, but the set of her lips and the angry crunch of her footsteps on the gravel as she walked over to her car did not reassure him. She was not going to leave it there, that was obvious.

He closed the door behind her with a sigh and leaned against it, his eyes closed. His head was thudding like a steam hammer. His eyes felt as though they had been abraded with sandpaper and he was so tired he wondered if he would fall asleep where he stood.

The doctor listened sympathetically. ‘Just a bad habit, you say? The sleepless nights, bad dreams …’

This was the fifth person this week. He frowned. No doubt the rector too would be reluctant to tell him what the dreams were about. Insomnia was probably one of the most common complaints for which he treated people, but to dread going to sleep. To fight sleep. Then to ask for pills to bring a sleep too deep for dreams. That was unusual.

‘The pills won’t necessarily stop the dreams. Nightmares are in all probability the result of some deep anxiety. An unresolved problem.’ James Good cocked an eyebrow at his patient. ‘You know that as well as I do, Mike. Anxieties need to be brought out into the open.’

Not this one, mate. Mike nodded, keeping his reply to himself.

‘And a change of scene might help. I know how busy you chaps are. No time for yourselves. Any chance of going away for a few days to break the pattern?’ He should have suggested that to all the others, too. He sighed. What on earth was happening? The whole of Manningtree seemed to be restless. Uncomfortable.

Wearily, Mike stood up. ‘I might just be able to grab a couple of days. I’ll see what I can do. That does sound like good advice.’ Oh, how good. To get out of the town and maybe – witches can’t cross water? – go and see Tony over the river, in Suffolk.

But before that, see Lyndsey Clark.

The windows in her cottage were open. He stood for a moment on the quay staring at it, trying to feel the atmosphere, calming himself, praying before he walked up to the door and knocked. The door swung open.

Peering inside, he found himself looking straight into the small front room. Facing north, it was dark, but it was far from gloomy. He noted flowers, the crystals sparkling on the hearth, the coloured rugs. He had to admit it did not feel evil in any way he expected.

Christ be with me, Christ within me
.

He knocked again, louder this time. ‘Miss Clark? Lyndsey?’

Silence.

But something had happened to the atmosphere. He felt it tense. It was as though the whole house were listening.

He stepped back a little. ‘Lyndsey?’ He could feel the emptiness now. She wasn’t there. There was no point in waiting.

‘What you doing here, then, Rector?’ The voice behind him made him jump out of his skin.

‘Bill!’

‘Young Lyndsey not there?’

‘No.’

‘You thought about what I said?’

Mike nodded.

‘You said your prayers up at Spindles?’

‘I’m afraid I haven’t had time.’

Bill shook his head ruefully. ‘You need to make time for that one, Rector. Can’t you feel it?’

Mike gave a weary shrug. ‘Yes, I can feel it, Bill. There is something.’

‘And it’s getting worse by the day. The whole town is beginning to suffer. It’s getting tense. Waiting. The bad times are coming in again. There’s been another murder, you know. Up on the Seaview estate. That’s the second. They say it’s drugs, but it’s not just that. You want to do something about it, Rector, before November Eve.’

‘Before –?’ Mike fell silent. ‘I’m doing this all wrong, aren’t I, Bill? I’ve been trained to go by the book.’

‘Books has their place.’ They had begun walking down the quay. Stopping at its edge, both men stared out across the river. Sunlight was reflecting off the water, leaving dazzling patches of ripples. The mist had gone for the time being. ‘But there are things that have to be done. The old folk don’t care any more. The young don’t know how. So, like I said before, I reckon it’s up to you and me, Rector. You need to bless the boundaries, bless the site. Clear out the darkness. Then do it for the whole town as well and it will spread over the whole peninsula. There’s old evil lurking here.’ A flight of dunlin danced over the top of the water, wheeling and swooping in the cold, clear wind.

Mike felt a shiver tiptoe across his skin. ‘And you think that, far from being behind all this, Lyndsey is working to fight it too?’

‘I reckon. But she doesn’t know how any more than you do, Rector!’ He chuckled.

To his astonishment Mike heard himself asking, ‘Couldn’t you do it, Bill?’

Bill shrugged. ‘I can do some. But this is strong stuff. It needs the church.’

‘Would you come with me? Summon the Ward? Show me where I need to pray?’

Slowly, Bill nodded. ‘I reckon that would be best. You and I need to stand together on November Eve, Rector. And perhaps young Lyndsey, too. That’s when the trouble will be worst. Always is. We’ll pray today. And we’ll stand shoulder to shoulder with the Ward come the dark.’