He realised Zoë had followed him. ‘No sign of anyone,’ he murmured.
‘I’m sure he’s long gone,’ she whispered back. ‘My guess is he wanted to scare them.’
Leo nodded. ‘Risky.’ He turned and made his way back towards the wire. ‘I don’t think there is anyone here now,’ he said as they climbed out into the field. ‘But I wouldn’t come here any more, Rosemary, I really wouldn’t. People do walk around with guns in the country. Although they shouldn’t shoot if there isn’t a clear line of sight, it happens. This is at the moment private ground and you are putting yourselves at risk forcing your way into it like this.’
‘What do you mean, forcing our way?’ Rosemary was bristling with indignation.
‘You cut the hedge, right?’
‘They had blocked the path from the lane.’
‘I think you will find that the law sees what you are doing, damaging Bill’s property, as illegal,’ Leo said calmly. ‘You have to do this legally.’
‘She’s right, Rosemary,’ Dottie said with a sigh. ‘I don’t think we can say people have been walking here recently. You’ll have to go through the council and get them to look for ancient rights of way. Truly there isn’t anything here now.’
Rosemary shook her head wearily. ‘You’re wrong.’ She saw Leo’s expression and pointed at him. ‘I don’t expect you to understand. This is vital.’
‘If you say so.’ He looked pained. ‘Well, I suggest we leave you to it. You obviously don’t need rescuing, and Zoë and I are on our way down to the boat.’
‘She won’t be told.’ Zoë followed him back towards the lane. ‘I saw them,’ she added quietly. ‘When you went into the copse. Two of them. Jackson and another boy, both with guns. They ran out and got away while you were distracted.’
‘I’ll have a word with Jeff. Poor guy. His kids are a handful.’
She followed him through the newly cut gap in the hedge, feeling the brambles and thorns catching at her jacket. ‘Which reminds me. Jade looked really ill. Did she tell you, she said she had chicken pox?’
He nodded. ‘I told her to go home. We ought to go and check on her, I suppose, and make sure they’ve told her mother.’ He sighed. ‘Do you want to come down to the landing stage first? To establish our alibi, as it were.’ He gave her a sidelong glance and then looked away.
The boats were lying quietly to their buoys. There wasn’t a breath of wind. Golden leaves were scattered over the water, drifting gently under the overhanging trees. ‘Is Ken at home?’ Leo asked as they stood side by side looking out across the river.
She shook her head. ‘He had to go to a meeting with someone in Woodbridge.’
‘So, you’re not in a hurry?’
‘No.’ Somehow the job vacancy didn’t seem important any more.
‘Do you want to come out to Curlew? Just to check her over.’ He stooped and picked up the mooring rope to bring his dinghy close. ‘I should have pulled this one up on the shore before I went away. There’s a lot of water in the bottom.’
She smiled. ‘I don’t mind.’ She realised suddenly that she wanted more than anything in the world to be close to him.
‘So you’ll come?’
‘Why not?’
His hand on her arm was strong as he helped her into the small boat and clambered in after her. He settled himself at the oars and pulled strongly out into the river. The Curlew was a smaller boat than the Lady Grace, and had a low graceful profile, and she was moored to a buoy further out in the main channel. She was wooden, Zoë saw, while their boat was more modern and made of fibreglass. Climbing aboard after Leo, she sat down in the corner of the cockpit as he pushed open the door to the cabin. It wasn’t locked. ‘I can offer you tea, without milk,’ he said as he ducked inside. ‘I have the minimum of supplies, I’m afraid.’
‘Tea would be lovely,’ she said. ‘It has been a rather stressful few hours. I’ve never run so fast. I was convinced we would find bodies.’
‘Jade has always been a drama queen,’ he said with a fond smile. ‘But I think she was genuinely scared. I wonder who the other boy was.’ He was rooting about in the cabin. ‘I’ll find out,’ he added a little grimly. He unscrewed a water carrier and poured some into the kettle he retrieved from a shelf over one of the bunks, then he put it on a gas ring in the small galley compartment, and reached first to turn on the gas bottle, then into his pocket for some matches. ‘Are you OK?’ He had been watching her surreptitiously from inside the cabin as she sat out in the cockpit.
She was gripping the gunwale with white knuckles. She nodded. ‘It’s the Deben effect.’
‘As long as it’s not me.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s not you.’ For a moment they looked at each other, then she turned away to study the river bank. ‘I never used to feel this nervous. Not at anchor, for goodness’ sake.’
‘There is nothing to be afraid of,’ he said over his shoulder.
Was it the river she was nervous of, she wondered suddenly, or being alone with Leo like this? She glanced at him quickly then she looked away a clutch of excitement in the pit of her stomach.
‘The river is a wild moving creature,’ he went on, ‘but it is predictable within parameters. You need to study the tides, the winds. If you link it to the moon and the weather, if you study its birds, if you learn its moods it becomes a friend.’
She was smiling. ‘That sounds poetic.’
‘Sorry.’
‘No. I like it. What about the mist?’
‘Ah, the mist.’ Behind him the kettle began to whistle shrilly. There was a pause while he reached for a dented tin of teabags and two mugs. Zoë clutched the mug gratefully, trying to ignore the momentary brush of his fingers as she took it.
‘Well,’ she repeated after a long silence. ‘What about the mist?’
‘It is the river’s veil, the disguise beneath which she hides herself when her mood changes.’
‘So it’s a she now?’
‘Indeed.’ He came to sit next to her outside, with his own mug, blowing on the scalding tea. ‘This boat is my mistress, but the river is our nemesis; our goddess.’
Their thighs were touching in the small space of the cockpit.
‘Is that what Deben means, a goddess?’
He shook his head. ‘A great many rivers in Britain are named as goddesses, like Sabrina, the Severn, but these rivers round here have descriptive names. The Stour means rough water; and Deben comes from the Old English word for a deep river.’
She shivered. ‘That follows.’
‘Not here. Not when the tide is out.’
‘I went to Sutton Hoo,’ she said at last. ‘It was very strange. I could feel it, the magic of the Anglo-Saxons. Their artistic designs, their jewellery. Their poetry. I loved it. I’m beginning to realise this whole landscape is imbued with their legacy.’
He nodded. ‘There was an Anglo-Saxon village here,’ he waved towards the barns. ‘The Hall, Timperton Hall, was built on the site of a Saxon hall.’
‘And it’s all gone. Nothing but shadows and memories in the poetry.’
‘I like that. It’s mysterious,’ he said.
‘Do you think our barns were built on Anglo-Saxon sites as well? And your forge?’ She was staring down into the water.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’
‘And the ghost ship? Was that Anglo-Saxon?’
‘Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it was a Viking invader.’
She looked thoughtful. ‘The Anglo-Saxons were here when Christianity came to England, weren’t they?’
He nodded again. ‘Christianity first came at the very end of the Roman period. But it took a long time to take hold here. Husbands and wives would be of different religions. Some people covered their options by setting up altars to both at the same time. It was a strange period. Some of our greatest and most beautiful Christian artefacts come from the Anglo-Saxons, like the Lindisfarne Gospels. Then the Vikings came and destroyed the monasteries; massacred
the people along the east coast.’ He fell silent, staring out over the water. Suddenly he pointed. ‘Look. There’s a heron. See him? In the shallows.’
She squinted, following his finger, and managed to locate the tall, statuesque bird standing motionless in the water.
‘We call those chaps harnsers in Suffolk,’ he said. ‘It’s a nice name.’
‘Do you think that’s an Anglo-Saxon word too?’
He smiled. ‘Ah, that I don’t know.’
The sunlight was falling low across the water. It was growing hazy as it grew colder.
‘Do you race the Curlew?’ she asked suddenly.
He laughed. ‘No. I’m not the competitive type. Why?’
‘Ken is. He is always looking for the chance to test himself against other people.’
‘I’m afraid he will find me very boring then.’ Leo gave a rueful grin. ‘I do not compete; I do not race. My Curlew and I drift sleepily around watching birds and dreaming in the sunshine.’
‘That sounds like my kind of sailing.’
‘Then we must do it together some time.’
She looked at him and for a moment their eyes locked. As before, she looked away. She sipped her tea. ‘This is a magic place, isn’t it?’
‘I think so.’
‘Is that why it is so full of ghosts?’
‘Maybe.’
She put down her mug on the seat beside her. ‘Leo –’
‘Hush.’ He put down his own mug and leaned forward towards her. For a moment she hesitated, then she closed her eyes. She wanted more than anything to kiss him, to hold him. She had never felt like this before with anyone, even Ken. The strength of her longing was frightening.
‘Zoë,’ it was a whisper, ‘is this what you want?’
‘Yes –’ The word was cut short as she felt his lips on hers. The kiss lasted a long time. When at length they drew apart they studied each other for what seemed an eternity, then she reached out for him again and pulled him towards her, needing to feel him holding her, his body against hers. She was the one leading, she was the one who scrabbled to undo her jacket and pull open her blouse, it was she who brought his hand up to her breast and pressed it against her hot skin. Together they slipped from the seat to the floor of the cockpit, then Leo half dragged half crawled with her towards the cabin. ‘Come inside. Here.’ The bunks were no use. They were too narrow. He pulled one of the long vinyl-covered cushions down on the floor in front of the chart table and pushed her down on it beneath him, pulling at the rest of her clothes. ‘Zoë!’
‘Don’t! Don’t say anything.’ She reached for his mouth again, overwhelmed by the electricity between them. ‘Oh God, please, yes!’
At last they rolled apart and lay together in the narrow space on the floor of the cabin. Zoë gave a long sigh. She lay looking up at the roof above her, where the reflections from the water outside flickered on the curved wood. All the warmth had gone from the light. It was green and sad. She could hear the slap of the tide against the boat’s sides and feel its movement as it rode the water, gently lifting and dipping with the motion of the evening breeze. It was growing cold, her skin chilled after the heat of his body, but she didn’t want to move.
‘I suspect our tea has got cold,’ Leo said at last. ‘Shall I put the kettle back on?’
She nodded. ‘I’m freezing.’ She laughed. The words sounded incongruous after the heat of their lovemaking.
‘I’ll get your clothes. I’m afraid I haven’t any blankets on the boat. They get too damp.’ He sat up and cursed as he hit his elbow on the leg of the table. ‘I hope Jade went home and didn’t decide she felt well enough to follow us.’
He knelt up and stuck his head out of the cabin, staring round the cockpit. The landing stage was deserted. ‘It’s getting misty,’ he said. He grabbed her clothes and pushed them down to her, then he reached for his own.
She pulled on her sweater. It was cold and slightly damp from the evening air. She forced her arms into the jacket and zipped it up as he pulled on his jeans. ‘I’ve wanted to kiss you for such a long time,’ she said suddenly. She reached up to his face and touched it gently.
He put his hand on her hair. ‘And I you. You have very sexy eyes, Zoë.’
‘I feel sexy all over.’
He laughed. ‘I was coming to that slowly. What is it the poem says: “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” We would need all night, of course.’ He hesitated. ‘Do you need to get back?’
For a moment the thought of Ken came between them.
Zoë shook her head. ‘He’s not there. He said he was going to be out late with a client.’ She fell silent as she knelt unmoving on the cabin floor, shivering. ‘I don’t want to go yet.’
He held her gaze and she saw the amusement in his face. ‘Even if it means rowing back in the dark?’
‘I trust you.’
He sat down on the edge of the bunk and leaned forward to put an arm round her. ‘I’m sorry there’s nothing to eat or drink. Tea, though. I can make more tea.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I just want to be quiet here with you. Feel the magic.’
He squeezed her shoulder gently. She slumped sideways against his knees and they stayed like that for a long time, not speaking.
Slowly she became aware of the sounds around them, the gentle ripple and slap of little wavelets on the hull as the wind got up and with it the sigh of the pine branches in the wood behind them. From somewhere up there in the dark came the sharp cry of an owl.
It was full dark by the time Zoë reluctantly forced herself to move. ‘It’s time, Leo. I must get back. Ken will be worried if I’m not there.’
Leo said nothing. He straightened and quietly climbed across her to the cabin door. He went out into the cockpit and stood staring out across the river. The wind had died away again and there was a slight haze over the water. Far above a chilly half moon hung behind a gauzy swathe of cloud.
‘Is there anything out there?’ Zoë emerged behind him. He heard the slight tremor in her voice.
‘Nothing at all,’ he said quietly.
10
‘Please, Eric, come to bed!’ Edith clutched the bearskin bedcover round her shoulders. Under it she was naked. Outside the house an owl hooted in the trees.
Her husband was pacing up and down the small living space of their cottage, still fully dressed, every now and then pausing to aim a kick at the smouldering logs in their hearth.
‘That sword is my masterpiece. It is the greatest blade I have made or ever will make!’ he muttered furiously. It is called Destiny Maker and it is not destined to be buried in a sick man’s grave! It is a weapon of war. It was made to win battles!’
‘There is nothing you can do, Eric. The sword is delivered and paid for. It is the Lord Egbert’s now, in life or in death, and it was for him to decide what should happen to it.’ She tried to cling to his arm. ‘Please, my darling, come to bed.’
He shook her off, not seeming to notice that she was even there except as a sounding board against which to hurl his invective. ‘I have to do something! That heathen sorcerer put a spell on Lord Egbert. He must have done, to seduce him back to the old gods.’ Suddenly the old gods were mocking him. They had tricked him, lured him on, promised him glory and fame in exchange for a renunciation of the Christian faith, even offering him a son. ‘No Christian is buried with his sword!’ he finished angrily.
‘Are you sure?’ She turned away, hurt by his rejection, feeling the chill of the night against her bare skin. She pulled the fur closer. ‘I thought you loved me, Eric, I thought you needed me!’ It was the eternal plea of the woman who has been set aside for more important things. It had no effect.
‘I will go and speak to Hrotgar again!’ He picked up his cloak and flung it round his shoulders.
‘Eric!’
For one second he paused and looked at her in response to her cry. But his gaze went through her. He turned away and let himself out into the night.
‘Where have you been?’ Ken was sitting in the great room reading the paper. He looked up at her as she came in. He didn’t seem overly concerned.
‘I had a drink with Leo.’ It seemed better to stick as close to the truth as possible. Strangely she didn’t feel guilty. ‘Did you hear about the standoff at the OK Corral? Jackson Watts took a rifle and more or less threatened Rosemary and her friend, Dottie, down at the copse. Leo and I went down to try and stop the massacre. Jade told us her brother had taken a gun and we were somewhat concerned.’
‘Grief!’ Ken went back to the paper. ‘Sounds as though you’ve had more fun than me this evening.’
Zoë bit her lip. If he only knew. She waited for him to say something else but he didn’t. He seemed immersed in the paper.
‘I think I’ll go up then,’ she said after the silence stretched out between them for several seconds. ‘I’ve had enough excitement for one evening.’
Ken stayed where he was, his eyes fixed on the correspondence page but he wasn’t reading. He heard her sigh and turn away and head for the stairs. She went up slowly and walked along the landing towards their bedroom. One by one the upstairs lights went on, then he heard the bedroom door shut behind her. He lowered the paper onto the coffee table and sat staring at it unseeing.
He had been standing at the high window looking out into the dark wondering where she was when he had seen the two figures walking up from the river, shadowy outlines in the hazy moonlight. He had seen them pause at the gate into Leo’s garden as the moon went behind a cloud. They had thought themselves safe in the darkness but the moon had sailed high again, flooding the garden with silvery light, and he had seen the lingering kiss.
Zoë had turned away at last and headed back towards their house across the grass, triggering the security lights as she approached the front door. The sudden illumination of her face had shown the dreamy happiness there. Abruptly he had turned away from the window and thrown himself down on the sofa, grabbing the paper. He had wondered if there was something going on for a while. He wasn’t sure yet what he intended to do about it. The irony of the situation did not escape him, and he was aware that he was being hypocritical – after all, where had he been all day? – but that did not stop him feeling a wave of jealous fury of a strength that surprised him.