Hiding From the Light (53 page)

Paula woke with a start. She stared round the bedroom, which was faintly illuminated by the night-light on Jamie’s table, wondering what had woken her so suddenly. Jamie was sound asleep. Gently she put her hand on his forehead. The fever had almost gone.

She stood up, stiff after sleeping in the uncomfortable chair and, glancing at her watch, made her way to the door. It took her only a few minutes to realise Alex was not in the house. Peering through the kitchen window her worst suspicions were confirmed. His car had gone.

The bastard! How could he? He had left her looking after a sick child while he had skipped off and she could guess where. Emma! That scheming bitch had managed to lure him away with her pathetic phone calls and her helpless-little-me act!

Taking a deep breath to calm her anger, she picked up the phone. Her next-door neighbour answered on the first ring. ‘Pam, I am sorry it’s so late, but can I ask you a great favour? Could you come and sit for half an hour or so? The children are asleep but I need to go out and Alex isn’t here.’

Pam chuckled. ‘No problem. I’ll be over in five minutes. Usual rate?’

Paula gave a dry laugh. ‘As many biscuits as you like and your choice of video.’ She was waiting in the hall with her coat on when her neighbour appeared.

Alex’s car was pulled into Emma’s parking spot, tightly wedged against the hedge as though another car had been there when he arrived. There was no sign of Emma’s car now, although Lyndsey’s bike was there, lying half buried in the hedge. Climbing out, Paula frowned. The door to the house was wide open, light pouring out across the garden.

She ran up the path and went in. ‘Alex? Where are you?’

There was no answer. ‘Alex?’ She pushed open the living room door. It was empty. One by one she looked into every room in the house, then she walked out again, standing in the rain by the gate looking up and down the road. Only two of them could have gone in Emma’s car. So someone must be there.

Across there in the darkness lay the churchyard where Lyndsey cast her spells. She shuddered. The bitch! How could she? To target young innocent children! Paula stepped out into the road and walked across. What was it Judith had said? Pray, as if by praying you could build a wall around the evil which would last forever. The evil which lay somewhere out there in the old graveyard. Not quite knowing why she did it, she found herself climbing the wall and walking slowly across the grass. ‘Alex?’ she called out. ‘Alex, are you there?’

The only answer came from the wind howling in the trees.

Alex was already cold. She didn’t need to press her fingers against his neck or take his hand in hers to know that he was dead.

It was only when she tried to turn him over to cradle his head on her lap that she found the little knife with its ebony handle in his chest; the front of his jacket was stiff with blood.

She didn’t realise that she was crying until she felt her tears scalding her rain-wet cheeks. Rocking back and forth on her knees, she could hear herself howling like an animal in pain. The wind was rising now, carrying the sound away into the trees.

She sat for a long time, cradling her husband’s body in her arms, hugging him close as though by sheer willpower she could coax warmth back into his ice-cold veins.

Lyndsey had done this. Lyndsey, whom Alex had befriended. Lyndsey, the witch. Lyndsey the worshipper of Satan. Lyndsey, the killer of babies! She had murdered him. Paula’s eyes suddenly flew open. There was no one in the house, so where was Lyndsey now? Where was Emma? Was Emma part of this too?

Her thoughts flew back to the children. Were they safe? What about Jamie, whom Lyndsey had bewitched? Were they all right?

‘Don’t worry sweetheart, they’ll be all right. I’ll take care of them. I’ll make her pay. I will.’ Lifting her husband’s head gently from her lap and laying him back onto the grass, Paula scrambled to her feet, trembling. She could barely speak for her sobs. ‘I swear it.’

She turned away from him, then she stopped. Tearing off her raincoat she spread it over Alex and tucked it tenderly round his body. ‘God bless, my darling. I’ll check they are all right, then I’ll come back. I won’t leave you alone, I promise.’ The tears were streaming down her face as she bent and kissed his cold forehead.

She tore the knee of her tights as she climbed over the wall, shredding the skin, but she didn’t notice as she ran back to the car. Revving the engine frantically she backed out into the road and turned with spinning wheels towards home.

Pam was waiting for her. ‘Paula? What’s wrong? What’s happened? Oh, my goodness, look at your leg!’

‘Are the children all right?’ Paula had pushed past her and was already racing up the stairs.

‘They’re fine. They are both asleep.’ Pam followed her, puffing. ‘Paula, there was a phone call for you. I was to tell you that the prayer circle are going to meet at the church to pray for Judith. Does that mean anything?’ She broke off with a little yelp of fright as Paula stopped in her tracks and spun round.

Her face in the muted landing light was wild with grief. ‘Judith? It’s too late for Judith! It’s too late for prayers! It’s up to us now. I’m going to kill the woman who killed Judith! I’m going to kill the woman who killed Alex! Stay here, Pam. Please. Guard them with your life! Don’t let anyone in. Anyone. Please.’ Pam was still on the landing as Paula hurtled past her downstairs and out into the rain.

Behind her, Sophie had woken up. In her little room beyond Jamie’s she began to cry.

There were four cars outside the church. Paula threw herself out of hers and ran to the porch where several other women had just arrived. They were talking excitedly amongst themselves, staring up the road where the rector had disappeared, running as fast as he could after Emma Dickson.

‘Where is Lyndsey?’ Paula cried. ‘She’s killed Alex!’ Her eyes were wild, her face muddy and there was blood on her skirt.

Forgetting the rector they stared at her, stunned.

‘What did you say?’ someone asked, their voice tight with shock. ‘Alex?’

Paula stared round. The faint porch-light showed up the women’s faces, their hair covered by scarves and hats, their coats and jackets being whipped by the wind. These women were her friends. ‘He’s dead!’ she cried. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said? He’s dead and Lyndsey killed him!’

They couldn’t seem to understand what she was telling them. They were staring at her, not believing her, not saying anything. ‘Alex is dead!’ she screamed. ‘She stabbed him. I found him, with a knife in his chest. Lyndsey’s knife!’ Pushing through them, she ran towards the church door and pushed it open.

The women were staring at each other, not sure what to do, and then slowly they followed her in. ‘Where is Lyndsey?’ Paula screamed. ‘The Lord will tell us! He will know!’

Someone had found the main lightswitch and the nave of the church was suddenly bathed in bright light.

Paula stopped, blinking. Lyndsey was there. She was up near the altar and she seemed to be wrestling with the TV men. Mark, forgetting the mobile, had raced back to Colin’s aid.

‘So!’ Paula stopped in her tracks. ‘There she is! The Lord be praised! He has found her for us!’

She headed towards Lyndsey, the other women running in her wake.

‘You killed my husband. You tried to kill my children.’ Violently pushing first Mark, then Colin aside, Paula slammed her fist into Lyndsey’s face. Colin, taken off guard, missed his footing and fell heavily back against the wall.

Lyndsey clutched at her face, blood streaming from her nose. Slowly she turned towards Paula. Through the blood, she was smiling. ‘Yes, I killed him! He tried to stop us. He interfered. Then the goddess called for a sacrifice. He gave himself to us, Paula. He asked for it.’

‘You bitch!’ Paula shrieked. ‘I can’t believe it. You aren’t even denying it.’ She swung round to face the other women. ‘Did you hear that? She isn’t even denying it. She’s proud of it. She killed Alex and she’s pleased with herself!’ She dashed the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘She deserves to die! We should burn her!’

Suddenly the atmosphere was electric. The other women glanced at each other. ‘Yeah. Hanging’s too good for her!’ a voice came from the back of the group clustered on the chancel steps.

‘Make her suffer!’

‘Kill her!’

‘Call the police, someone,’ a calmer voice called out of the crowd. ‘That’s best. Let them take care of this.’

‘No!’ Paula faced them, trembling uncontrollably. ‘This is not a job for the police! This is for us! This is women’s business! Get her!’ She lunged forward. ‘She calls herself a witch. We’ll treat her as a witch. We’ll swim her like they swam witches in the past. Swim her. Let her know the fear. Let her know the pain!’ Grabbing Lyndsey’s wrist, she gave it a mighty tug, pulling Lyndsey off her feet. ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ she screamed. ‘This way!’

‘I’m with you, Paula.’ A woman stepped out of the crowd. ‘The police will probably give her counselling and let her go! They have no idea. This calls for action. This one is up to us. Come on, girls.’

By the time Colin and Mark had caught their breath, Lyndsey had been dragged screaming from the church. They stood staring, numb with shock, listening to the shrill voices of the women as they faded away in the distance. Not all of them had gone. One or two were hanging back, clearly uneasy about what had happened. The sight of them finally galvanised Mark into action. As they headed slowly for the door he ran after them. ‘Stop. Think what you’re doing! For God’s sake, someone call the police,’ he called.

One of the women hesitated. She seemed uncertain what to do. Fumbling in her bag she produced a mobile. Mark grabbed it. It took only a second to dial 999, then the two men ran to the door and out into the churchyard in time to see Lyndsey being bundled into the back of one of the cars parked outside. In a matter of seconds all of them had driven away.

‘Come on, we’ve got to follow them!’ Mark turned and ran towards the rectory where their own car stood on the gravel. ‘If we don’t get there fast I dread to think what will happen. Where the hell has Mike gone?’

Behind them the church was suddenly very quiet as the by-standers made for their own cars and drove away. In the doorway Bill Standing was staring at the altar, frowning. He could see the angry red and black energies in the air around the chancel. The church was going to need a spring clean after this. But he needn’t go in. Mike would know what to do. He shrugged himself deeper into his coat. Where was Mike? No time to wait for him. There were things to be done elsewhere and it looked as though he was going to have to deal with them alone.

‘Which way did they go?’ Mark was peering through the windscreen wipers at the deserted main street.

‘Guess.’ Colin shook his head. ‘That woman was insane with grief. They’ll kill that girl if we don’t get there.’

‘They talked about swimming her.’ Mark drummed his fingers on the wheel. He thought again for a fraction of a second. ‘I know. It’s worth a try.’ He swung the car into the main road and pressed the accelerator to the floor.

‘What did she mean, all that about Lyndsey killing her husband?’ Colin was leaning forward, his eyes glued to the windscreen. ‘You don’t believe that, do you?’

Mark shrugged. ‘Do you remember last week? That was the woman who came into the shop and screamed at Lyndsey. She had her kids with her.’ He turned the car round the corner onto the Walls. ‘Oh, shit! I hope I’m right about this. It’s our only chance.’

‘There are car lights ahead.’

Mark sent the car hurtling along the road and screamed to a halt behind the other vehicles which had drawn up near the Hopping Bridge. They could see at once that his guess had been right. Lyndsey was lying on the roadside with several women bending over her. Even from there they could see she had been tightly trussed, hands to feet.

As Mark leaped from the car, the women lifted her crouched form bodily to the brick balustrade which bordered the pavement.

‘Stop!’ Mark shouted. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

One woman glanced over her shoulder towards him. She stood back, hesitating. Then another. It was Paula’s voice that came to him out of the darkness. ‘Do it! Throw her in. If you don’t I will!’

They saw her run at Lyndsey and push her hard. They heard Lyndsey scream and then a huge splash from the water beneath. A flock of ducks rose quacking in panic from the lake and wheeled off into the dark.

Mark reached the balustrade, panting. ‘Where is she? Can you see?’ He tore off his jacket. Below him the water was very black.

Behind them first one, then another car drew away from the kerb with a scream of wheels and disappeared swiftly into the night.

‘There.’ Colin was pointing. One of the streetlights amongst the trees behind him cast a faint misty illumination across the water.

Mark jumped into the water feet first. To his surprise he found he could stand up, his feet sliding about in the mud as he groped frantically around him under the water. ‘Lyndsey? Can you hear me? Where are you?’ He took a step forward, his hands outstretched, sweeping the water in front of him.

‘I think I can see her.’ Colin had climbed over the wall himself. He hung for a moment from the bridge, then he let himself drop beside Mark. ‘Here. Over here.’ He waded with difficulty a few steps towards the trees which overhung the bank. ‘She’s face down.’

Between them they dragged Lyndsey onto the muddy bank. Colin was trying to straighten her cold legs. ‘They’ve tied her wrists to her ankles.’

‘They would. They know their history,’ Mark said grimly, groping in his pocket. He produced a knife. ‘Here, see if you can cut through the rope. Oh, shit! My mobile is soaked.’ He had found it in his jacket pocket where it must have been all along. ‘No, there’s no signal. We need an ambulance fast.’

‘Mine’s in my briefcase in the car.’ Colin had managed to cut Lyndsey’s wrists free of the binder twine which had been used to tie her. Gently he straightened her out and tipped her head back. ‘She’s not breathing. Can you do mouth to mouth?’

‘Yes.’ Mark knelt down beside her. ‘Go and call, Col. Then come back down and give me a hand.’

Paula was standing on the bridge watching them. As Colin climbed up the bank and scrambled over the wall onto the pavement, she stared at him doubtfully. ‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’

‘She’s not breathing.’ Colin ran towards the car.

Paula went after him. ‘If she died in the water, that means she was innocent.’ She looked bewildered. ‘So, why did she die?’

‘We don’t know she’s dead.’ Colin pulled open the car door and reached in for his briefcase, scrabbling frantically amongst sheaves of papers. Finding the mobile at last, he stabbed at it with shaking hands. He called the ambulance and then the police again, then he reached into the back for the old rug which lay there. When he climbed out of the car again, Paula was still standing by the bonnet, staring back towards the bridge. She seemed dazed. ‘She shouldn’t have died.’ She seemed to be indignant.

‘No, she shouldn’t.’ Colin walked back to the wall and vaulted over it, sliding down the wet muddy bank to where Mark was working on Lyndsey. ‘The ambulance is on its way, Mark,’ he said quietly. He bent and tucked the rug around her cold body. ‘Do you want me to have a go?’

Mark nodded. He moved back, so that Colin could take his place. ‘There hasn’t been any response at all,’ he said. He was shaking with cold. ‘I don’t think she’s going to make it. Who is up there?’

‘Only Paula. The others have vanished.’ Colin went down on his knees beside Lyndsey, putting his mouth over hers. Her lips were cold.

‘I’ll go up and wait for the ambulance.’ Mark was shivering violently now. ‘I’ll find something for you to put on.’ Somehow he hauled himself up to the roadway. Paula was standing where Colin had left her. She was crying.

In the distance they could hear an ambulance coming. Paula looked up. ‘They’ll save her, won’t they?’

Mark shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

‘She shouldn’t have died. She was guilty. She killed Alex. It was her knife. Her magic knife!’

He frowned. He was rummaging in the back of the car for a jacket. ‘No, Paula. She didn’t really kill him. You’ve imagined it,’ he said sternly.

‘She did.’ Paula looked bewildered. ‘I found his body.’

Mark glanced at her.

‘You heard her in the church. She didn’t deny it. She was proud of it.’

‘Where is he, then?’

‘At the old churchyard. Her knife is in his chest. He is quite cold.’ Her voice slid up hysterically. ‘I found him.’

‘Christ!’ Mark bit his lip. She meant it. He had pulled the jacket out of the car, about to put it on. He had second thoughts and put it round Paula’s shoulders instead. ‘I can vouch for the fact that Lyndsey had completely lost it, but, whatever has happened, you shouldn’t have done this.’

‘I had to.’ She shook her head weakly. ‘I had to. She had bewitched my children.’

The ambulance appeared, its blue light flashing. Mark stepped out into the road and raised his hand. In only a few seconds two paramedics were scrambling down the bank.

They watched the two men working on her, watched them glance at each other and shake their heads, watched them bend down again, listen intently, cover her face with a mask and lift her onto a stretcher.

‘She’s breathing. We’ve got a faint pulse!’ one of them said as they loaded her into the ambulance.

‘Thank God!’ Mark was standing on the pavement beside Paula. Gently he put his arm round her shoulders.

‘Here.’ The driver went back and pulled three foil blankets out of the ambulance. ‘Wrap yourselves in these. We don’t want anyone dying of hypothermia. No one else hurt? You all OK?’

Mark nodded. ‘Just cold.’

‘Right.’ The driver slammed the door shut and walked round to the front of the ambulance. ‘What the hell was going on here?’ He looked back at them all as he pulled open the door. Then he shrugged. ‘Anyone want to come with her? No? Well, if you called the police, they might not be here for a while. There’s trouble in Walton, and there’s been a big pile up at the roundabout near Elmstead. The whole area seems to have gone mad tonight. I’ve never known it like this, not in all my years in the service!’

They watched the ambulance pull away. Mark glanced at Colin. ‘There’s no point in waiting, then. I’ll ring them and tell them not to bother to come. That’s probably best.’ He glanced at Paula, then back at Mark. ‘What shall we do now?’ he asked quietly.

Paula had begun to tremble uncontrollably.

Mark opened the back door of the car and he gently pushed her inside and closed it on her, then he walked round to the driver’s door.

‘Perhaps we should go back and find out what happened to Mike? What a mess!’ He glanced at the back seat where Paula was huddled, moaning quietly to herself. ‘Do you believe her?’ he murmured.

Colin nodded. ‘Why on earth would she make something like that up? The whole world has gone mad! I reckon anything is possible. Something must have sent her over the edge.’

‘Do you think we should go up there and look?’

Colin turned and peered at Paula. ‘Did you call an ambulance when you found your husband?’

She frowned. ‘I can’t remember.’

Mark started the engine. ‘I know where it is. It’s where Alice took her non-film.’ He threw the car into gear. ‘We’ll drive up there, Paula, and check what’s going on, OK?’

‘What’s the point?’ Paula was shivering violently inside her silver paper wrap. ‘No one can help him. She killed him. And the water rejected her.’ Suddenly she started to laugh. ‘You realise that means that God has already found her guilty!’