The Priest Hole Page 8

  “He said someone's coming,” she replies, stiff with fear, before turning to look at the window. “Who's coming?”

  “No-one,” I tell her. “I promise, no-one's coming.”

  Pulling away from me, she makes her way across the dark room, heading toward the window. When she gets there, she stands on tip-toes, trying to look out, but she's not tall enough.

  “I can't see,” she says after a moment, as she strains to stand a little taller. “Who's coming?”

  “No-one,” I tell her again, making my way over and putting a hand on her shoulder. Glancing out the window, I see the moonlit lawn and the dark forest a little further off, but to my relief there's no sign of anyone. I have to admit, for just a moment there I actually psyched myself into thinking there might be some dark, doom-laden figure standing out there, staring up at the house. “No-one's coming,” I add, guiding Suzie back and then pulling the curtains shut, shrouding the bedroom in darkness. “Come on, let's get you to bed.”

  Fumbling for her hand, I take her to the bed and then help her in.

  “I heard the voice,” she whispers in the darkness. “I know you did too.”

  “Suzie -”

  “Unless this was a dream.”

  I pause, realizing that there's a hint of hope in her voice.

  “Do you think it's a dream, Laura?” she asks. “Maybe... Maybe I'm asleep, and I didn't come and wake you up at all?”

  I can't see her face in the darkness, but it's not hard to imagine her scared, fearful expression.

  “Sure,” I tell her finally, leaning closer and kissing her forehead. “It's all a dream. None of this happened.”

  “You're not just saying that?”

  Getting to my feet, I feel my way along the wall until I reach the door. “You've been dreaming,” I reply, pulling the door open. “Nothing happened, there was no voice, not really. You've been in bed the whole time and I'm not even here.”

  “You're not?”

  “I'm in bed, silly,” I continue, feeling bad for lying but determined to make her feel better. “Where else would I be in the middle of the night? Close your eyes and go to sleep, and when you wake up in the morning you'll realize it was all just a dream.”

  There's a pause, before I hear her shifting under her bedsheets. “Okay,” she says cautiously. “I believe you.”

  After stepping out onto the landing and pulling the door shut, I lean back against the wall and take a deep breath. There's a part of me that wants to go downstairs and take a look around, just to prove to myself that I won't magically end up hundreds of years in the past with a bunch of ghosts all around, but I figure that's another step toward all-out madness. Like Suzie, I need to focus on the idea that all this weirdness is just a combination of dreams, imagination and stupidity.

  I refuse to believe in ghosts.

  Making my way to my room, I ignore the sound of a faint creak from downstairs and, instead of investigating, I go back to bed. I'm not going to give in to a bunch of random noises and start thinking they're something they're not. This ghost stuff has to end right now.

  Chapter Ten

  Daniel

  Sitting alone in a room at The Offingham Arms, with just the light of a candle to guide me, I take hold of the metal pin and slowly drive it through the flesh of my left forearm. There is pain, of course, and I flinch as a dribble of blood runs down the curve of my flesh, reaches my elbow and then drops to the floor, but I keep pushing until the pin emerges through the other side.

  “Why do you hurt yourself?” a voice asks suddenly.

  Turning, I see to my surprise that not only is the door open when it was closed a moment ago, but Kate is standing just a few feet away, watching.

  “I paid for a private room,” I reply. “I did not realize -”

  “Is there not enough pain in this world already?” she asks, coming closer to the bed. “You're a good man, I can tell that, so why do you sit here alone after dark, driving a metal pin into your flesh? What kind of madness is this?” She pauses, her eyes darting across my bare chest and arms. “It's not the first time, either. You've clearly been doing this to yourself for some time.”

  “It's none of your concern,” I tell her. “I want to be alone.”

  “Are you punishing yourself?” She looks toward the window. “Joseph is not screaming tonight. That's unusual. Since you're staying until morning, have you decided what you're going to do about the poor boy? I hope you aren't considering taking the knife that his family offered.”

  Ignoring her, I grit my teeth before slowly pulling the pin out. More blood runs down my arm, glistening in the candlelight. “My sister is missing,” I say finally, holding my arm up and watching as the blood chooses its course across my muscles. “Ever since I learned that she had been taken by Nykolas Freeman, I resolved that I would not rest until I have found her. This is my way of reminding myself of the pain that she must be enduring.”

  “You worry you'll forget?”

  “I worry that I'll become like everyone else I have met on my travels,” I reply, turning to her. “I worry that somehow I'll start to accept that existence of men like Freeman, that I'll turn away and ignore these horrors. How do they do that? How do they just accept such cruelty existing in the world?”

  “If he took your sister,” she continues, “it must be because he thinks she is a witch.”

  “She is no such thing,” I say firmly, flinching at the merest suggestion of the idea. “My sister is not some foul beast.”

  She opens her mouth to say something, but the words seem to stick in her throat.

  “She's not!” I hiss.

  “I believe you, but...” She pauses. “What if you cannot find her? Will you spend the rest of your days cutting into your flesh like this?”

  “I will find her.”

  “But if you can't.”

  “I will.”

  “Alive or dead?”

  “I will find her!” I shout, getting to my feet and taking a step toward her, ready to strike her on the side of the face before finally, at the very last moment, I manage to hold back. “My father hit women,” I tell her, “and my brother is the same, but I always swore I would never do such a thing. Still, if you continue to provoke me...”

  She smiles.

  “Is something funny?” I ask. “Did you enter this room simply to laugh at me?”

  She shakes her head. “It's not that, it's just... As I told you earlier, I spend my time traveling from village to village, and I meet a lot of people whose lives have been affected by Nykolas Freeman. Many of them, as you suggest, have simply come to accept his existence. Some are religious and believe Freeman's claim that he is an agent of God, some are too scared to challenge a man who has the authority of King James himself, others are too tired and too worn down to think of anything other than their meager struggles for survival.” She pauses, eying me with a hint of caution. “But there are some, such as yourself, who swear to go after the man and make him pay for what he does.”

  “Then why does he still draw breath?”

  “That is something I have asked myself many times,” she replies. “Freeman is but a mortal man, he has no powers that protect him and he has made many enemies, yet still he lives. How? I have witnessed great hulking men, warriors, men with power, set off on the road to kill him, but none returned. Most were found dead by the side of some road, the rest simply disappeared. I spent quite some time wondering whether Freeman might possess some form of ability, some dark incantation that keeps him safe. Finally I came to the conclusion that it is his own self-belief that keeps him going, that he truly believes that he is doing God's work. When a man has such great belief in himself, he can stretch himself that much further than others.”

  “I assure you,” I reply, “that when I catch up to him, he will face justice.”

  “You intend to kill him?”

  “I will spill every last drop of his blood.”

  “I wish you well,” she says with a
faint, sad smile. “I have long thought that eventually a man must come who is able to deal with Freeman, albeit perhaps only if he is given a little help.”

  “And you can offer that help?” I ask, with a smile of my own. “You're just a woman.”

  She stares at me, before turning and heading back to the door. “Enjoy your night,” she replies. “Perhaps I was wrong about you. Perhaps you're not the man who can bring Freeman down after all. I must keep searching.”

  “Do what you want,” I tell her. “Soon enough, you will hear word that Freeman's corpse has been found hanging. When you do, know that it is by my hand, and that I finally found my sister and freed her, and that I personally ensured no-one else will ever have to face such evil again.”

  Without replying, she slips out of the room.

  “Do you hear me?” I call after her. “Do you understand?”

  I wait.

  No reply.

  I hurry to the door and lean out into the dark corridor, only to find that there is no sign of Kate at all. She cannot have gone into any of the other rooms without my having heard the doors opening, and the stairs creak under any footfall whatsoever, so I do not see how she got away so quickly. Still, as I step back and push the door shut, I tell myself that I need to be alone and that I need to get just a few hours' sleep before setting off in the morning at first light. Every second that I rest is another second that I delay getting to Rosie's side, and I feel absolutely certain that she's still alive, that she's out there somewhere in pain, waiting for me to find her.

  A few hours later, once I have fallen asleep, Kate comes back to me in a dream. She says nothing; instead, she climbs naked into the bed next to me and I am powerless to resist her advances. With the light of the moon shining through the window, she sits astride me and takes my body into hers, and when I reach up to place a hand on her full breasts she leans closer as if to accept my touch. I reach around and set my other hand on her hip, at which point I feel a set of lines on her flesh, as if there is some kind of scar or mark. Running my fingertips against the ridges, I realize they form a crude triangle, and a moment later I feel warm blood smeared on the palm of my hand.

  “What -” I start to say.

  “Quiet,” she whispers, her body tense with anticipation. “You needed to know.”

  With that, she leans down and kisses me full on the lips.

  Unlike any woman I have ever taken to my bed, she maintains full control and keeps her eyes wide open, fixing me with a determined gaze as we make love, almost as if she is trying to monitor my every reaction. The dream continues for hour upon hour, twisting into an endless night of passion until finally I wake in the cold light of morning, sitting up suddenly in bed as sunlight streams through the window, and I find myself alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Laura

  “Oh wow!” Mum says, holding up another chanterelle mushroom that she's just torn up from the forest floor. “Wait until you taste these later, fried in butter and served with scrambled eggs. You girls are gonna think you've died and gone to heaven!”

  I force a weak smile as I step past her. Ahead, the forest slopes gently downhill toward the shore of the lake, where rippling water glistens in the mid-morning sun. The forest itself is fairly dark, mostly shaded by a thick canopy of leaves above, but I've got to admit that it's not as creepy as I'd feared when Mum first suggested this morning that we should come out here and try a spot of foraging. Even Suzie is joining in, having apparently accepted that the incident with the wall last night was just a dream.

  “I found one!” she giggles, pulling up a red mushroom with white spots.

  “You can't eat that,” Mum tells her. “It's bad for you.”

  “Why?”

  “It just is. Come and look at the chanterelles again. Those are the ones you're looking for, okay?”

  As they continue to hunt for mushrooms, I slip between the trees, heading toward the lake. I still can't decide whether I like the peace and quiet of the countryside or whether I miss the hustle of the city; I seem to be constantly flitting from one mood to the other, never really able to settle, although the strange events at the house haven't exactly been helping. I keep running through everything in my mind, trying to remind myself that there's a rational explanation for it all, and I've just about managed to keep a lid on any superstitious thoughts. Still as I make my way past the edge of the forest and reach the lake's muddy shore, I can't shake a hint of concern that seems to have become irrevocably knotted in the back of my thoughts.

  Stopping next to the water, I look out and watch as gentle ripples on the lake's surface catch the sun's light. I've got to admit, it's pretty goddamn beautiful.

  After checking over my shoulder to make sure that Mum and Suzie aren't far behind, I make my way along the shore. I don't even know what I'm looking for, just that it feels calming to be out here away from everything, even away from the house. Spotting something dark poking out above the trees at the lake's far end, I realize it must be the church I visited yesterday, and I can't help but smile at the thought of that strange woman I met. After a moment, however, my thoughts turn to the little headstone hidden by weeds, marking the final resting place of the Baxendale family. I know they can't be the same people from my dreams, not really, but it's still horrible to think about them being killed in the house.

  Walking on, I try to focus on something else, anything else, but ever since we came to live here I feel as if the past is as much part of my surroundings as the present. A moment later I spot something glinting in the sun, jutting out from the mud, and when I make my way over and reach down to pick it up, I find that it's a dented gold coin.

  “What've you got there?” Mum asks, trudging out of the forest and coming over to join me. “Huh,” she adds, taking the coin from my hand and taking a closer look, “this is old.”

  “It was in the mud,” I tell her. “It was just sitting there.”

  “I'm no expert,” she continues, turning the coin over, “but this has to be from a few hundred years ago. It must be a shilling or a guinea, or whatever they used back then. I think that's Latin around the side. Maybe we can look it up online later.”

  “Do you think it's worth anything?” I ask.

  “I doubt it, but...” She looks down at the mud beneath our feet. “You never know what else is out here, do you? Maybe you can bring Suzie down one afternoon and dig around, you know she'd love doing something like that. We could even look online for a second-hand metal detector if you fancy a new hobby.”

  “Where is she?” I reply, glancing back through the trees but not seeing any sign of my sister.

  “Probably picking totally the wrong mushrooms,” she says with a smile. “Don't worry, though, I drummed it into her head that she's not allowed to lick any of them.” She pauses for a moment, looking toward the trees. “Suzie!” she calls out. “Honey, can you give us a quick wave to let us know where you are?”

  We both wait, but once again the only sound comes from the trees' rustling leaves.

  “Suzie!” I shout, taking a step forward. “Come on, where are you?”

  “I told her not to wander off,” Mum mutters. “Don't worry, she can't go very far.”

  “Suzie!” I yell, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Where are you?”

  “Don't get like that,” Mum hisses.

  I turn to her. “Like what?”

  “Like you're panicking. Honestly, Laura, this is the English countryside, miles from civilization, she's not going to get into any trouble if she goes off on her own for a couple of minutes. It's not like London. She's a smart girl.”

  “I still want to know where she is,” I point out, making my way to the edge of the trees. It's not like Suzie to wander away, she's usually far too timid, but this time she seems to be well and truly out of range. I keep watching the trees, expecting to spot her crouched down as she examines some mushrooms, but as each second slips past I'm getting more and more worried.

  “Suz
ie!” Mum shouts. “Honey, where are you?”

  For the next few minutes, we make our way along the shore, calling her name. Even though neither of us is saying it out loud, I can tell from the look in Mum's eyes that she's as worried as I am now, and we take slightly different paths back through the forest, still shouting Suzie's name. I want to believe that my dumb little sister is just being an idiot, but there's a mounting sense of fear in my chest as I finally stop in a small clearing and look around. For a moment, just a moment, the smell of the forest seems to change slightly, filling with a hint of smoke, but it fades as quickly as it came.

  “Suzie!” Mum calls out in the distance, a few hundred feet away. “Honey?”

  “Where the hell are you?” I mutter, trampling between more trees. “I swear, if you -”

  Stopping suddenly, I see a figure up ahead, standing completely still with her arms by her sides. My first instinct is that it's not Suzie, that she'd never stand like that, but I take a step closer and see with a rush of relief that it is her.

  “Found her!” I shout as I hurry forward. “Hey dumb-ass, didn't you hear us calling you? Where have you been?”

  When she doesn't reply, I kneel in front of her, and to my surprise I see that her clothes are a little torn and that there's mud smeared on one side of her face. It's the look in her eyes that really freaks me out, however, since she's staring at me with a dark expression that I've never seen on my little sister's face before.

  “What's up?” I ask, immediately changing my tone as I feel a sense of concern building in my chest. “Suzie?”

  I can hear Mum hurrying toward us, but Suzie has her eyes fixed firmly on me as if there's something she wants me to know.

  “Suzie?” I continue, nudging her shoulder slightly. “What's wrong?”

  “There you are!” Mum says with a sigh of relief as soon as she reaches us. “What were you up to, honey? Looking for more mushrooms?” She tousles the hair on top of Suzie's head and then steps past. “Oh wow, there are lots of mushrooms over here, aren't there? Well done, kid, you found a real crop!”