Resonance (16 page)

T
HE MAN CALLED
Luke dragged Harry by the scruff of his neck through a weed-clogged stable yard and around to the back of a huge and austerely beautiful house.
Multipaned
windows watched him stumbling past. Granite cherubs peered impassively from distant eaves.

Reflected in the windows, Harry could see the boy following behind, a picture of sweetly childish manliness in his little suit, trailing the pitchfork. Its metal tines sang against the ground, leaving twin tracks in the clean white gravel of the path. The girl skipped along, twirling Harry’s penknife in her hand. Harry tore his eyes from her and twisted his head against Luke’s unnaturally strong grip, looking up into his face.

‘They were gonna torture me with that pitchfork. You were gonna let them.’

The man grunted. ‘Sacrifices must be made. Even Abraham had to give something in exchange for Isaac.’

They rounded a corner, and came up the side of the house. The tines of the pitchfork shrilled against the uneven flagstones of a sun terrace. On Harry’s right, through high glass doors, he could see a library. On his left, a sunken garden held blood-red roses to the cloudy sky. There was something wrong with this picture, but Harry’s brain refused to move past the sound of the pitchfork.

‘The children’s games make the Angel stronger,’ muttered Luke. ‘Seems to be I’m the only one as will admit it.’

Harry stopped listening. This man was quite obviously deranged. They neared the front of the house, and he could see a broad sweep of lawn, edged with fluttering trees. This rolled down to a small lake, partially swallowed by a bank of fog. Harry’s eyes jumped from feature to
feature, judging distances, escape routes, hiding places.

There was a woman on the lawn, tall and ornately dressed, grimly pushing a pram towards the house. Tina was standing by the front steps. All her attention seemed fixed on the lake at the far end of the lawns. The old actress from the theatre was with her, her eyes on the woman with the pram, who was now passing onto the drive.

‘Missus!’ yelled Luke. ‘This one claims he belongs to the show!’

Though she seemed to be the one he was addressing, the woman sped up, clearly headed for the front steps. ‘No one in the house!’ she cried. ‘I told Cornelius that. No one in the house!’

Luke dragged Harry after her. ‘Now you look here, missus! Does this one belong to Himself or not? If he don’t, I’m giving him to the childer. To hell with the consequences!’

The woman stopped at the bottom of the steps. Almost reluctant, she looked around at the two children who had come up beside Harry and Luke.

The boy bowed politely from his hip. ‘Good evening, Mama.’

‘This stick-man is
very
entertaining,’ the little girl informed her. ‘Ask him to fetch you a penny!’

The woman flicked a troubled glance at Harry.

Luke, meanwhile, seemed mesmerised by Tina. ‘By God, missus.
What is she?
’

The woman’s dark eyes slid sideways. ‘You see it too? I think she belongs to Cornelius.’

‘You … you’d best take her inside then, missus. You’d best look after her if she belongs to Himself.’

Ursula Lyndon looked uncomfortable at this. ‘Now see here,’ she murmured.

‘Miss Kelly doesn’t belong to nobody!’ cried Harry.

Tina seemed not to notice the conversation, or if she did, she seemed not to care. Her eyes roamed the fog-shrouded lake. ‘There’s something down there,’ she said. ‘Like an empty space.’

The little girl was regarding her with piercing curiosity. ‘Isn’t she
pretty
,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t she have pretty hair?’ She smiled across at the woman and twirled Harry’s knife. ‘Would you like me to fetch you her hair, Mama?’

With a cry, the woman spun away and shoved the pram ahead of her up the steps. Its many frills and flounces bounced violently, but no crying came from within.

Luke shook Harry by the collar. ‘What about this boy, missus?’

The woman paused on the top step. She could not seem to look directly at Harry, and only took him in with sideways glances. She was very beautiful, with her dark hair and eyes, her strong profile. Harry had no doubt in his mind that this was the famous Raquel. ‘What age are you?’ she asked. There was the faintest remnant of an accent in her words, breathy and sibilant, Spanish perhaps.

‘I’m almost seventeen, ma’am.’

This caused her to look directly at him. ‘Seventeen,’ she said. She looked him up and down, a yearning wonder in her face. ‘Yet nothing like him.’ She seemed to recollect herself at that, gave a frowning glance to the children, then nodded to Luke. ‘Allow him in.’

She crossed the porch with the bearing of a queen, her dark skirts whispering. Once she entered the house, she was
lost from sight, but Harry could still hear the pram, its tyres squeaking as she travelled the rooms within.

The little boy looked puzzled. ‘Can’t we have him, then?’

‘You can’t have any of ’em,’ grumbled Luke. ‘They belong to your pap. Come on.’ He gestured that they should follow him. ‘I’ll see what I can find ye in the traps.’

The children trailed after him, sulky but obedient, the little boy still dragging his pitchfork. Before rounding the corner, Luke paused. ‘Best get yourselves into the house,’ he told Harry. ‘I’m going to release the dogs.’

As soon as the man was gone, Harry ran to Tina. ‘Come on!’ he cried. ‘
Now
. We gotta find Joe and go!’

Ursula Lyndon gripped his arm. ‘What about the dogs?’

Harry thought of the enormous, battle-scarred creatures in the barn, and his stomach did a little flip.

‘Young man,’ said Ursula, ‘I realise that uncouth fellow has given you a scare, but gamekeepers don’t take kindly to trespassing. Now it’s clear you are part of Lord Wolcroft’s festivities, I’m sure your troubles are over.’ She squinted at him, suddenly uncertain. ‘Did you come in the carriage? I don’t recall …’ She seemed to struggle with her thoughts, as if realising there were a lot of things she didn’t recall. ‘I … I have been invited here as an advisor to Lord Wolcroft. Miss Kelly is … is my companion. Yes. Miss Kelly and I shan’t be going anywhere, young man. Indeed, I wouldn’t advise you set off on foot. How would you ever get through the snow?’

Snow
? Slowly, Harry looked around him. Where the hell was the snow?

Ursula followed his gaze. She clasped her hands. ‘What has become of the weather?’ she whispered.

‘I’m not leaving Joe,’ said Tina.

‘Do you know where he is?’ cried Harry. ‘Let’s get him!’

She was tense as a knotted fist, and she stepped back from his touch. ‘Joe … Joe’s dead.’

Dead? No!
‘When?’ cried Harry. ‘Where?’

But Tina didn’t seem to hear him at all. ‘Joe’s dead,’ she repeated softly. ‘I’m not leaving him. You should go, though. Don’t … don’t go to the village. I think the people there are … Take Miss Ursula.’

She turned away. Walking careful as a drunk, she made her way up the steps. Harry watched her enter the house, his mind reeling.

‘Young man?’ Miss Ursula tapped his arm. ‘Young
man
, what on earth is happening? Why is everyone behaving so peculiarly?’

‘We need to go!’ cried Harry. ‘Tina!’ He ran up the steps, then paused, turning to Miss Ursula. ‘Wait here, okay, lady? Holler if anyone comes back.’

‘Holler?’

‘If someone comes, try not to listen to them. Just holler a warning, then block your ears and run.’

‘Run?’ she cried, as he entered the house. ‘Are you deranged?’

T
HE RECEPTION HALL
was dominated by a stuffed horse. The huge creature had been mounted on a wooden platform facing the entrance, its dusty eyes fixed on the landscape outside, its powerful body poised as if contemplating a trot around the lake. Harry skirted it warily, following the click of Tina’s heels to the corridor beyond.

The hallway was muted with shadow, its walls lined with display cabinets. Stuffed birds and animals crowded the glass shelves, their bodies permanently twisted in frozen imitation of life. Beneath the scrutiny of so many tiny gazes, within the silence of the house, Harry found himself unwilling to call out. He passed through blocks of mote-filled sunlight falling through open doors. There was no stir of life in the revealed rooms.

He found Tina in the ticking quiet of a library. Through the high French doors he recognised the terrace across which Luke had dragged him and, beyond that, the sunken rose garden. The clock-tower of the stable block was just visible above the trees.

‘Tina,’ he whispered. ‘You can’t stay here.’

She paced the bookshelves, her hands opening and closing. ‘It’s here,’ she whispered. ‘It’s here.’

‘Tina!’

She turned to him, regarding him with hectic eyes.

‘We have to
go
,’ he said.

She shook her head, her gaze once again roaming the crowded walls. ‘Joe.’

Oh God, Joe
. ‘Are you sure he’s dead? Did … did you see a body?’

‘I
saw
him. Oh, Harry,
I saw him
. He was all alone. His eyes were full of snow.’ She pressed her fists to her temples and gasped. ‘But he’s here. He’s right here! I can’t leave him …’

‘But
where
did you see him? What—’

‘Stop talking, Harry!
You’re making it
worse
. There’s so much
noise
. All the
singing
. All the
lights
! If you just let me
think
! If you just let me
listen
…’ She trailed off, her entire body
abruptly relaxing. ‘Oh,’ she whispered. ‘It stopped singing.’

The room seemed very still now that she had stopped pacing. Harry was almost afraid to move, in case he set her off again. There was a small movement in the hall, and Harry spun to find Raquel standing on the threshold of the library. She cradled a baby doll in her arms, and her dark eyes were fixed on Tina.

Suddenly Harry had had enough. ‘What did your goddamned friends do to Tina? Look at her! She’s out of her mind!’

Raquel dismissed him with a glance.

‘They’re coming,’ Tina whispered. ‘Up from below ground.’

Raquel nodded. ‘Vicente fetches him up for me sometimes.’

There were rapid footsteps in the hall and Ursula Lyndon appeared, wide-eyed and breathless. ‘There
are
dogs, you know! They’re enormous.’

At the sight of the old woman, Raquel sidled into the room, the doll raised as if to shield her. ‘Not in my house!’ she cried.

‘I … I am sure they won’t come in,’ soothed Ursula. Her eyes flitted to Tina, whose attention was still focused on the bookshelves.

‘In
my
house,’ insisted Raquel, ‘the old ones are
upstairs
. We don’t have to
see
them.’

These people are nuts
, thought Harry.
Full-blown, howl-
at-the
-moon nuts
. His gaze met Ursula’s, and he saw the same understanding in her eyes.

Tina breathed out suddenly, a sound of discovery and satisfaction. ‘Ah, I knew it!’

At the exact spot where she had been staring, there came
the sound of a key in a lock. A latch clicked within the wall of shelves, and a false front, complete with books, swung outwards. The space within was so dark that it seemed to swallow light. The man it contained was invisible until he stepped forward.

‘Cornelius,’ said Raquel, her expression warming with relief and joy.

Lord Wolcroft smiled at her. Harry thought he was transformed; his face younger, his bearing infinitely more graceful than before. ‘Dearest,’ he murmured, advancing to kiss Raquel’s hand. He chucked the doll beneath its chin. ‘Sophie,’ he said, as if in greeting. ‘Have you been good for your mama while I was away?’

His jacket and trousers were stained with damp, his waistcoat spattered with what looked suspiciously like blood. Raquel noticed this with a frown, and Wolcroft tilted his head to acknowledge her disapproval.

‘I am a touch dishevelled,’ he agreed. ‘For which I apologise.’ His cool grey eyes took in the occupants of the room. ‘You’ll have met our lovely—’

At the sight of Harry, his face froze into sudden lethal coldness. His hand darted beneath his jacket.

A rich voice paused him in the act of withdrawing a knife. ‘The boy is mine, cully. Lay aside your blade.’

The carriage driver appeared in the secret doorway. Breathless, as if he had been climbing steps, and a little grey in the face, he met Harry’s eye, a dangerous edge to his smile.

‘Well, conjurer,’ he said. ‘You must be very keen for another audition. Stowed yourself in the luggage, did you?’

Harry said nothing. The driver’s voice sounded in his mind.
You keep your mouth shut about our mutual friend, boy, 
and I promise not to make you cut out your own tongue
. Harry glanced around the room, awaiting the others’ reaction to this threat. The driver’s smile widened.
Only those we wish to
hear hear, boy. So you’d best heed when I choose to speak
.

‘Vicente,’ said Raquel. Smiling, she went to the driver where he still stood, framed within the darkness of the doorway. He took her doll and laid it on a table, with no sign that it meant anything more to him than a toy.