Kingdom of Shadows (64 page)

Paul stopped in Aberdeen for lunch. He had no doubt that she was at Duncairn but now he was so close he had to consider how best to act. He ordered himself some steak and kidney pie, a salad and a glass of wine. Everyone was on his side: Geoffrey, David, Antonia and Archie. All he had to do now was to get Clare back to Airdlie and keep her there. He sat gazing into space as he chewed. The question was, how was he going to do it? It didn’t have to be for long; all he needed was the power of attorney and time to complete the deal with Cummin. He sat back, legs crossed, sipping his wine with enjoyment as he considered. It would be easy to break Clare. He didn’t want to hurt her, but if that was what it took to get his way, then hurt her he would. It was her own fault that she had become involved with all this crazy idiocy and made herself vulnerable. She had played into his hands. No one would ever believe her now. Anything she said about him would be put down as madness. He smiled to himself and beckoned the waiter, ordering another glass of wine.

He walked into the Duncairn Castle Hotel at 3.15 p.m. Jack Grant was in the office. He recognised Paul at once.

‘Mr Royland. How nice to see you again.’

Paul smiled tautly. ‘And you. Is my wife here, Grant?’

‘Your wife?’ Jack looked blank. ‘I’ve not seen her for a long time, Mr Royland.’

Paul frowned. ‘Are you sure? She was on her way here.’

Slowly Jack shook his head. ‘We’ve had quite a lot of visitors here today, with the sunshine, but I’d have seen her if she looked in.’

Paul swore under his breath. Then he went to the window. ‘I suppose she would have gone to the castle, if she had come here. I’ll go over and see.’

Without a word he rounded on his heel and marched out of the room.

Grant watched him from the window, a tall, heavy figure striding across the grass towards the trees. The day was growing murky now. A mother-of-pearl haze was building up over the sea, and with it came the cloud. With a grim shrug he strode into the bar and began to poke the fire.

Upstairs, Clare, deeply asleep, snuggled further under the bedclothes and Casta, with a sigh, stood up, turned round and subsided again on to the carpet, head on paws.

The castle was deserted. Paul walked into the courtyard and stopped, staring round. The clouds had reached him now and they were carrying sleet. The first shower slanted in from the sea and across the stone walls, soaking into his jacket. Below the cliffs the sea was plunging angrily on to the rocks, sucking at the shingle and swirling in amongst the weed. He shuddered. What did Clare see in this Godforsaken place? If it had been his he would have paid someone to take it off his hands!

He walked round slowly, peering into the chapel, the tower, round the curtain walls, searching, expecting every moment to see her huddled figure against the stone. Twenty minutes later he strode back into the hotel.

Neil was standing with his back to the fire in the hall reading the
Scotsman
. He lowered it as Paul came in. Jack was nowhere to be seen.

Neil nodded. ‘Jack Grant told me you were here, Royland. It’s been a long time.’

Paul stared at him, for a moment at a loss, then his eyes narrowed in recognition. ‘Forbes! I heard you had involved yourself in our affairs.’

Neil grinned humourlessly. ‘Earthwatch is opposing the granting of prospecting licences on this and several other sites on mainland Scotland, yes.’

‘Sigma will get the licence.’ Paul peeled off his sodden jacket. ‘The government lobby for onshore oil is too strong.’

‘We’ll see,’ Neil said amiably. He eyed Paul. ‘Do I hear you have lost your wife?’

Paul’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. ‘We were to meet here. Apparently she hasn’t arrived.’

‘Oh, she arrived.’ Neil folded the newspaper and put it down on the circular table in the middle of the hall. ‘She never mentioned that she was meeting you here, though. She must have forgotten.’ He grinned. ‘She has gone on north. She mentioned that she was going to stay with a friend in Fraserburgh.’

‘Fraserburgh?’ Paul stared at him.

Neil nodded emphatically.

‘The only person she knows in Fraserburgh is old Jeannie Campbell,’ Paul went on thoughtfully.

‘Then that must be where she has gone.’ Neil was standing with his back to the fire, feeling the comforting warmth of the burning driftwood. He put his hands behind his back and rubbed them together, trying to curb his dislike of the man facing him.

Paul frowned. For a moment he hesitated, then he swung back towards the door, shrugging his wet jacket back on. ‘I’ll go after her.’ He paused and glared at Neil not even trying to hide his animosity. ‘We’ll meet again, Forbes, if you continue to oppose my plans for this place. You can’t stop progress, you know. No one can.’

Neil narrowed his eyes. ‘The campaign I’m organising would stop World War Three. You won’t know what has hit you, Royland, if you tangle with Earthwatch. Believe me.’ He kept a grip on his temper with difficulty. ‘You just look at the papers next week if you don’t believe me.’ He smiled. He turned away, then over his shoulder he added, ‘We’ll see how the public likes the idea of rich City tycoon Paul Royland selling his wife’s inheritance to make yet more money out of the environment. I hope you find your missing wife, Royland.’ His tone was mocking.

Paul smiled grimly. ‘Oh, I’ll find her,’ he said. ‘Make no mistake about that.’

Neil watched, hands in pockets, from the window, as Paul climbed back into the hire car and turned it on the gravel in front of the hotel. A moment later he had gone.

‘Did she tell you she knew someone in Fraserburgh?’ Kathleen was standing at the foot of the stairs.

Neil nodded. ‘Pity it wasn’t Wick,’ he said sourly. ‘It would have taken him a lot longer to find out she wasn’t there.’

Kathleen put her arm through his. ‘What are you going to do about her?’

Neil glanced down at her. ‘You don’t like her, do you.’

‘No.’ It was better to be honest. ‘There is something odd about her.’ Kathleen shivered ostentatiously. ‘Something unlucky. She is bound up with this place, but in a bad way. I don’t like it.’

‘Is this more of your famous second sight!’ Neil teased. ‘If you ask me, there is nothing unlucky about that lady that wouldn’t be cured by ditching that bastard, Royland.’

‘He will never let her go.’

‘He won’t have any choice, if she divorces him.’

‘She’s not going to divorce him.’ Kathleen crouched before the fire and held our her hands. ‘She’s trapped in that marriage.’

‘You seem to know a lot about it.’

‘I saw it in the cards.’

‘Oh, my God!’ Neil looked heavenwards. ‘You haven’t brought those damn things with you?’

Kathleen scowled. ‘They go where I go. Where is she, anyway? Is she still asleep?’

‘I suppose so. She looked exhausted, and she crashed her car last night – dented it quite badly, I noticed – so she must have been a bit shocked. Sleep is probably the best thing for her. If she is not awake by the time Jack starts serving dinner someone can go and wake her up and tell her that her husband has gone north. That should please her.’

‘If he believed you.’ Kathleen was gazing into the flames.

Clare opened her eyes and stared up into the darkness. For a moment she couldn’t think where she was; then she heard the sea. Panic shot through her. For a moment she lay rigid, her heart pounding with fear, then slowly she sat up. She groped for the switch on the bedside light. It was the same sea, the sea which haunted her dreams and her visions, but this time it was real.

She took a deep breath as the light came on and she saw the black reflections which were the windows of the room. Behind them the wind reverberated against the glass. The sea, a hundred yards away below the cliffs, was pounding against the coastline, booming in the caves along the coast, reverberating through the castle, across the brittle winter grass and around the hotel. The room was full of the sound.

She climbed stiffly out of bed. Her shoulder was throbbing painfully and her head ached. She glanced at her watch. It was six thirty. Going from one window to the other she gritted her teeth and with an effort she pulled the heavy old curtains across, trying to block out the sound of the sea.

She went through into the bathroom and drew the curtains in there too. It had once been a dressing room, and was much too big and draughty really for a bathroom, although the cracked linoleum had now been replaced by carpet, and a light had been put above the basin to give it some semblance of twentieth-century comfort. The bath was huge and old, with four clawed legs. She turned on the taps. The water which swirled down on to the stark whiteness of the new enamel was peaty brown. She glanced up alarmed as the lights flickered, but they steadied at once. Jack had installed a generator, she remembered, comforted, which would cut in if the wind brought the power lines down.

Automatically locking the door she pulled the switch which put on the electric bar heater on the wall and slowly she took off her sweater and shirt. A shower of hail hurled itself at the window, the rattle of ice on the glass clearly audible above the sound of the running water. She shivered, waiting for the bath to fill, then painfully she climbed in and lay back in the comforting warmth, feeling it soothing her bruised shoulder. The lights flickered again.

In the bedroom Casta growled gently in her throat and then went back to sleep.

22

‘I’ve phoned up to Mrs Royland’s room as you asked me.’ Jack put his head around the door of the bar where Kathleen and Neil were having a drink before dinner. ‘There’s no reply. Do you reckon I should go up and see if she’s all right?’

‘No need.’ Neil was on his feet at once. ‘I was going up to get some notes anyway. I’ll give her a knock as I go past.’

He knocked twice on Clare’s door. The dog barked at once, but she did not reply. Cautiously he turned the handle. The bedroom door opened and he peered in. The room was lit only by the bedside lamp. He could see the covers rumpled where she had slept but there was no sign of her.

‘Where is your mistress, dog?’ Neil looked doubtfully at the bathroom door. ‘Is she all right, do you think?’

Going over to the door, he knocked. There was no reply. Behind him the lights flickered again. Beyond the window he could hear the wind and the hail lashing the side of the building.

He knocked again. ‘Mrs Royland? Clare? Are you all right?’

Beside him the dog whined, its hackles on end.

Neil looked down at it, then he tried the bathroom door. It was locked. He knocked more urgently this time, thundering on the wooden panelling. ‘Clare! Clare, can you hear me?’

Supposing she had passed out? She had made light of the car crash but he had seen the size of the dent in the XJS’s wing. She could have hit her head and been concussed, and besides that she had been tired to the point of collapse. Making up his mind suddenly he put his shoulder to the door, and with one sharp thrust pushed it open with a splintering sound as the small bolt wrenched free of its screws.

In spite of the electric fire high on the wall the room was ice cold. He shivered involuntarily, looking round. Clare was lying in the bath, her eyes closed, the water lapping gently around her breasts. She was as white as a sheet.

‘Christ!’ Neil stared at her for a fraction of a second, then he strode towards the bath. Seizing her shoulders he pulled her into a sitting position, shaking her so that her head fell forward, a curtain of dark hair tumbling over her face. Her skin was clammy and very cold.

‘Clare? Clare! Are you all right?’ He shook her again, leaning forward to pull out the plug and release the water. She had been within inches of slipping under in the long old-fashioned bath.

Clare’s eyes opened. For a moment she stared at him completely blankly, then she looked around in confusion and she frowned. She could see Isobel, swathed in her cloak, standing talking to a group of armed men. In the darkness their faces were shadowy, concerned, the wind was catching their hair and clothes, tearing the manes and tails of the horses near them. Robert was there too, fading now, his handsome face strained and angry. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but he was growing more insubstantial every second, disappearing before her eyes. She was trying to reach out towards them when she was shaken again, hard, and stunned by a slap on the face. The figures disappeared abruptly.

She gasped. Her eyes snapped into focus and she began to shiver violently.

‘Here, wrap this round you.’ Neil snatched the bath towel off the radiator and put it round her shoulders. ‘Now, stand up. Here, let me help you out.’

She couldn’t stand. With an exclamation of irritation Neil stooped and lifted her out of the bath as she clutched the towel round her frantically, staring puzzled at the light above the mirror which was faintly flickering. ‘What’s happened? What are you doing here? How did you get in?’ She was shaking so much as he lowered her to her feet that she had to sit down at once on the rim of the bath.

‘I was afraid you might have had an accident, so I broke the bolt on the door. Just as well. You were asleep in the bath. You might have drowned!’

She stared at him and he wondered suddenly if she remembered who he was.

‘You hit me?’ Indignation was beginning to surface.

‘Yes.’ He grinned. ‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t wake you. I was afraid you had concussion or something.’

Clare was still confused. ‘And you hit me, to cure my concussion?’ She gave a faint smile. ‘What have you done to Casta?’ Through the open door to the bedroom she could see the dog cowering in the far corner.

‘I’ve done nothing to her, unless it was the noise of the door crashing open which frightened her.’

‘Which frightened the entire hotel, I’ve no doubt.’ Slowly, as the warmth returned to her chilled body, her position was dawning on her and she was beginning to realise what had happened. She could feel her face colouring with embarrassment as she clutched the towel more closely round her. ‘You had absolutely no business breaking in like that, Mr Forbes. I was perfectly all right!’