The Mercer's House (Northern Gothic Book 1) (25 page)

BOOK: The Mercer's House (Northern Gothic Book 1)
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‘If you stop now I will
kill
you,’ she said, her voice catching.

‘Maybe not on the landing,’ he said unsteadily, and she remembered where they were and shook her head in wide-eyed agreement, and still clinging together they stumbled into the bedroom, pulling clumsily at clothes as they went. Then he laid her down on the bed and his mouth found hers again, and all other thoughts vanished from her head as she felt her limbs entwine themselves with his of their own accord, and lost herself in the familiar ache that she’d been missing for all those unhappy months. Now she knew for certain that his reserve was only on the surface, and she wanted more than just a glimpse of what lay beneath, if only he would let her in, and so she pulled him tightly to her, claiming him as her own, and he responded with equal fervour, and with restless hands and lips they explored each other, discovering how to give pleasure and receive it, until far into the night.

7th August, 1989

G
OODBYE, ROWAN,
my darling. I hope you’ll understand why I’m doing this, but it’s for your own protection. She says it’s the only way. When she speaks to me I feel drowsy, like I’m floating, drifting in a calm sea, and I can’t help but trust her. She’s my friend, you see. She says she’s going to protect us, so we have to do what she says. The evil spirits are outside the door, waiting for us to come out, but we’ll stay here, where it’s safe and warm, just you and I. I’ll do what she tells me, then we can stay here forever and they’ll never catch us…

S
OME TIME later, Zanna drifted hazily back into consciousness, wondering why the bed felt unfamiliar to her. All at once she remembered, and turned her head. Will was still there, asleep. The skies had cleared now, and by the light of the nearly full moon that filtered through the thin curtains she could see the curve of his neck and his bare shoulder, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. He was so beautiful, and the memory of earlier that night so fresh and glorious, that she wanted to laugh out loud from sheer happiness, but she suppressed the urge, since it wasn’t everyone who took kindly to being woken in the middle of the night, however affectionate they’d been only a few hours before.

She did need to use the bathroom, though. She reached carefully for her watch and could just make out that it was ten to four. She slipped out from under the covers and threw on her dress, just in case anybody else was up. The air was chill and the floor cold under her feet as she stepped out onto the landing and ran along to the bathroom. The moon shone obliquely through the skylight at the top of the stairwell, casting long shadows that looked like prison bars across the banisters, and Zanna shivered a little, thinking of the warm bed she’d just left, and its enticing occupant.

When she came out of the bathroom she stopped in momentary confusion, trying to remember which way the bedroom was, and as she did so she gradually became aware of a sound coming from somewhere else in the house. Was it human or animal? She couldn’t tell at first. It was a moaning, muttering sound, which started off quietly then rose to a crescendo and fell back again. Someone was up. But where was the noise coming from? Her first thought was that it was Corbin, wanting help. There was no sense in rousing Alexander when she was already up, so after a second’s thought she felt her way along the landing and down the stairs. Corbin’s room was at the back of the house, near the kitchen, but as she approached she saw that his door was ajar and the bedside lamp switched on, revealing an empty bed. The noise had stopped now, and she could feel a draught of cold air coming from somewhere. She retraced her steps, and found that the front door was standing wide open. She was half-inclined to run back upstairs and call the police, in case it was a burglar, but just then she caught sight of a figure outside, and saw that it was Corbin. He had made it halfway down the front path, and was now standing with his back to her, his hand resting on an ornamental bird bath for support, swaying slightly. It was cold, and he was wearing only pyjamas and slippers. Zanna hesitated for a second, then went out.

‘Corbin,’ she said. ‘Come inside.’

He half-turned at the sound of her voice.

‘Who is it?’ he said in fear.

‘You have to come back in,’ she said. ‘It’s cold. You’ll freeze.’ She was freezing herself, in only a thin dress and bare feet, and she folded her arms to stop herself from shivering.

Now he turned properly and saw her, and gave something like a start.

‘No!’ he said, in a quavering voice. ‘Why can’t you leave me alone? I did what you asked, God help me. Why are you doing this to me?’

He seemed confused. Had he been sleepwalking?

‘Corbin, it’s Zanna,’ she said.

‘I know who you are,’ he said. ‘You’re Helen. I only wanted to help. I did what I thought was best.’

‘I’m not Helen. I’m Zanna. Maybe I look a bit like her, but I’m not her. Let me get you inside. You can’t walk very well, and you’re going to freeze to death if you don’t come back in.’

She took his arm, but he shook it off and shrank away from her. She cast about desperately.

‘All right then, if you won’t come with me, I’ll have to get Will or Alexander,’ she said. ‘Stay here.’

‘Will?’ he said. ‘Leave Will alone. You’ve already caused him enough harm.’

He seemed to be rambling. She turned to go inside, but at that moment his fragile grip on the bird bath gave way and he collapsed to the ground. She ran back to him and bent over him.

‘I can’t leave you like this,’ she said. ‘Look, you’re going to have to accept my help whether you like it or not. Come on. Do you think you can use the bird bath for leverage if I put your arm round my shoulder?’

The fall seemed to have woken him up.

‘You’re not Helen, are you?’ he said in wonder.

‘No, I’m Zanna. You remember me, don’t you? Helen’s—Will’s friend. Please let me get you inside.’

He went quiet and co-operated as she hauled him to his feet and supported him back into the house. Once they were back in his bedroom, she wrapped a dressing-gown around him and sat him down in an armchair next to the bed.

‘There you go,’ she said. There was a kettle and a dirty mug on a little table nearby. ‘I’m going to make you a hot drink now.’

‘I called you Helen,’ he said. He still seemed bewildered.

‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I must have been half-asleep. I don’t know what I was doing out there. Perhaps it’s the medication they’ve got me on. It gives me vivid dreams. I think I must have been dreaming about her. So many years ago, it was, and yet I still remember her so clearly.’

‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’ said Zanna, without quite meaning to.

He looked down at the floor, but said nothing. Zanna felt the gooseflesh rise on her arms and down her back and knew she should stop—knew she should leave the room and fetch Alexander and forget she’d ever started the conversation, but her next words came out before she could stop them:

‘Did you kill her?’

He shook his head, and to her horror she saw two tears began to roll down his face.

‘No,’ he said. ‘She wanted me to help her. I hid them. I took them away and I buried them. I waited for someone to find them and come and get me, but nobody ever did. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

The tears were coming fast now, and he was beginning to loll forward in the armchair. Zanna knew she should act, but was paralysed. In the end she could think of nothing else to do but move forward and lift him up again. She settled him back against the cushions and knelt down before him, before this once-vigorous but now frail and pathetic shell of a man, who was weeping in genuine misery. It felt almost cruel to force him to talk about it, but she had to know what had happened to her aunt and her cousin, who were dead.

‘How did they die?’ she said.

‘She killed him,’ he said. His speech was indistinct, but there was no mistaking his words. ‘I don’t know. It was an accident, she said. She’d had a blackout, or something, and when she woke up he was lying dead on the bed. She suffocated him—her little boy, who she loved so much. I wanted to believe her—wanted to believe her more than anything. That’s all I’ve had to cling to all these years. The thought that she didn’t do it on purpose. She wasn’t well, you see, and she’d hidden it from us all. For years she kept it a secret and I didn’t find out until it was too late.’

‘Did she tell you she was—ill?’

‘It was all in her diary,’ he said. ‘She left instructions for me. She knew I was in love with her, and wanted me to do one final favour for her after she died. She knew I’d do it. She couldn’t bear the thought of Alexander finding out what had happened when he got back from New York. He’d be devastated, she said. She wrote a note to say she was going away with Rowan, and then took an overdose of something—I don’t know what. I knew nothing about it until I came home and found them both lying on the bed. She’d left her diary in the kitchen, with the instructions to me. She begged me to hide them so they’d never be found, and leave the note so everybody would think she’d gone away. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I should call an ambulance, but they were both dead and there was nothing to be done, and then I thought of the police crawling all over the house, and our lovely Helen being forever known as a child murderer, and I couldn’t bear it. And so I did what she told me. She knew I’d do anything for her, and she was right.’

Zanna put her hands to her face and moved away to the end of the bed. So this was the truth. Now what was she supposed to do with it?

‘Where are they now?’ she said at last.

‘Far away from here,’ he said. ‘I carried them a long way and buried them as decently as I could. I did it for her, and for Alexander. He was always the clever one, you know. The historian. The one who got on television. I always lived in his shadow, but I didn’t mind that. And now he looks after me. We’re brothers, you see. Twins. They say there’s meant to be a bond between twins, and I rather think there is. I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘She was your aunt. It’s such a pity you’ll never get to meet her. She was quite delightful. Only—there was this dark, tormented side of hers that she kept hidden from us all.’ Suddenly he let out a loud sob. ‘God forgive me!’ he cried. ‘What have I done?’

‘Corbin! What is it?’ said a voice, and Zanna whirled round to see Alexander in the doorway, his hands busy with the belt of his flung-on dressing-gown. He hurried forward. ‘Is he all right?’

Zanna had no chance to reply before Will came in, fully dressed. They had both presumably been woken by the noise.

‘What’s going on?’ said Will. He threw a glance at her then went to help his father. Alexander was wringing his hands over Corbin, who had begun to wheeze loudly and sag in the chair.

‘Get him into bed,’ said Will. ‘You’re in the way,’ he said abruptly to Zanna, as she moved forward to help, and she retreated into a corner and wrapped her arms around herself as Will and Alexander carefully lifted Corbin onto the bed and fussed around him. Her mind had gone blank, and she wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Corbin was saying over and over again. ‘I knew it would come out one day. Forgive me, Alexander. I meant no harm.’

‘Hush, now, you’re getting overexcited,’ said Alexander. ‘Will, prop him up against those pillows, would you?’

‘What’s he talking about? What have you been saying to him?’ said Will to Zanna. His face was stony, and he gave no sign or acknowledgment of what had gone before.

‘I—I—nothing,’ she said. ‘He was outside, and I brought him in, and—’

‘I told her about Helen,’ said Corbin. ‘How could I not? You see the resemblance between them. She was sent as my nemesis, my punishment. It was bound to happen.’

‘No,’ said Zanna. ‘It’s not like that.’

‘What about Helen?’ said Alexander. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t!’ said Will. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yes it does,’ said Corbin. ‘Forgive me, Alexander. I thought it was for the best. I took them both away from you so you would never know the truth.’

‘The truth about what?’ said Alexander. He looked towards Zanna. ‘I’m afraid he’s a little incoherent, my dear. Do you know what he’s talking about?’

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