“What do you mean?”
“I’ll be able to relate certain things that you couldn’t possibly imagine so basically it’ll add an extra edge of reality to the research.” Brigitte could see the logic in that. “Best be getting on. Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you something back. Let’s call it a little souvenir of your first soiree into the past.”
Brigitte was expecting him to delve into his jacket pocket. He didn’t. He walked over to the molehill and kicked at the mound of damp earth. Something in the dark soil glinted. He bent down and pulled the object out. It was a gold-coloured bowl. He handed it to Brigitte. It was much heavier than she expected.
“If I’m not mistaken,” He looked at her and winked. “I’d date it to round about the fifth century. Just don’t tell anyone where you got it.” She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t take her eyes of the remnants of food still stuck to the inside of the bowl.
“Let’s go.” He held out his hand to help pull her up. “What did you think?” He asked as they picked up her things.
“To be honest, Jack, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it was all a bit...well, disappointing really. Apart from the present, thank you.”
“Life’s like that sometimes, but don’t worry, next time will be better.” For a moment she thought he was going to take her arm as they walked, side by side, back through the field, but he didn’t.
Chapter 18
Sleep-wise it’d been another bad week. Even though Jack was away he was on her mind all the time. The visit to Cambridge and the day in the Fens had unsettled her. Nothing would sink in. She was glad for once the girls had left for school on time and without the usual fuss. The breakfast things were piled in the sink, but Brigitte couldn’t gather the energy to wash them and put them back where they belonged nor could she be bothered to go back upstairs and make the beds. All the bad dreams were leaving her drained of enthusiasm for anything.
After she'd returned with Jack from walking the Ley in Flag Fen, the house seemed to have an ominous atmosphere which was dragging her down and making her nervous. She couldn’t wait to get out of it. The kitchen clock showed the time was still well before nine o’clock, but she’d been ready to leave for work for the last half an hour. Grabbing her mobile from the kitchen table, she slipped it into her jacket pocket. It was if she was running, but didn’t know from what.
Closing the front door behind her, she shouldered her bag and locked the door. While debating whether or not to take the car, the phone rang. The soft vibration turned into a silly out of place Christmas jingle. The girls had changed the ring tone again. Who's calling me at this time of the day? It's too early for it to be Paul, or the lawyers, or the accountant. Oh, god, maybe it's the school and something's wrong with the girls. No, can't be. They'll just be getting off the bus and heading through the gates. Oh my God, the bus! She swore out loud unable to see the number flashing on the tiny screen without her reading glasses on. “Yes,” Her voice was terse with nerves as she answered. “Who is it?” Her hand trembled as she clutched the phone close to her ear. She took a deep breath and ready for bad news, tried to compose herself.
“Brigitte, is that you or have I dialled the wrong number?” Jack’s question sounded something halfway between concerned and confused.
“Oh, Jack,” Brigitte sighed his name with relief. “I’m so glad it’s you. I’d worked myself into a panic wondering who was calling so early.” Brigitte gabbled on in nervousness and Jack didn’t interrupt. “I thought there’d been a disaster or something. That the school bus had crashed or one of the girls had been taken ill on the way to school or even my parents, they’re getting on a bit now and you never really know what’s coming next.” The verbal flow slowed as she ran out of steam.
“Well it was none of those. It’s only me, but after I’ve told you why I’m calling you might wish I hadn’t.”
“So I’m not having bad vibes for nothing then? “
“One of those days?”
“It's silly really, but I feel as though something followed us back from the Fens. It's just me, don't worry about it.”
“Stranger things have happened. You’re not driving are you?” Jack asked.
“No, though I was just about to get in the car. Come on, tell me what this is all about. I hate secrets, well no I don’t really, but I can’t stand being kept hanging on. Oh, you know what I mean.” Brigitte realised she was waffling again. Her nerves still hadn’t subsided. She sat her bum on the car bonnet and took another gulp of air.
“It’ll only take me five minutes to explain, but you might want to have a think about what I’m going to ask you before you answer.”
“Jack, spit it out for goodness sake,’ she laughed, ‘you’re driving me mad.”
“Okay, listen. You know I’ve been up North for the last few days.” Brigitte nodded, then remembered she was on the phone and said yes out loud. “Well the whole situation has turned into a bit more of a problem than what I was expecting. After being here, I’ve come to the conclusion it’s really not something I can deal with, well not on my own anyway. Let’s put it this way, I think it could be sorted a lot quicker and easier with, how shall I put this...” He paused while he pondered and Brigitte waited. “...with a more feminine touch.”
“Oh,”
“I know it may sound a bit strange me asking you this, we haven’t known each other long and I’m not sure of your commitments or even if you’ll be able to get away, but do you think you might be able to come up and stay for a few days and give me a hand.”
Jack's caught the waffling virus. “Oh,” was the full extent of Brigitte’s response as, surprised, she struggled to find an epitome of, or anything close to resembling an intellectual reply. Nothing worked and the only word that came to mind was, “Oh,” so she said it again. If this is having bad vibes then I hope I have them everyday.
“As I said, you’ll probably want to have a think about it. Why not call me back this afternoon and we’ll chat again. Does that sound better? I don’t want to rush you into anything.”
“Alright, Jack.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you later then. Bye.” And he hung up, just like that.
Brigitte stared at the silent phone still clutched in her hand as though it would provide the answers to the questions starting to form in the back of her mind. She realised Jack had done all the talking and told her absolutely nothing. Now what’s coming? She unlocked the car door and slid into the driver’s seat, throwing her bag down onto the passenger seat before slipping the key in the ignition, still thinking about his surprise invitation. The engine turned over at the first touch, but stalled as she attempted to move off. It wasn’t until the third attempt she realised she’d forgotten to take the handbrake off. Swearing under her breath at her own stupidity she released it and edged the car out onto the road.
Always helps to follow the correct procedure. Jack’s voice echoed a comment in her head.
Very funny. I wonder if he always have such a strange effect on me. I don't care how hard it is to get away, I'm going. The girls can go and stay with their dad for a couple of days. Won't do them any harm. I'll call Jack later and tell him I'm going. Brigitte smiled to herself as she drove through the village and parked in front of the shop. Bet the day goes quick now I've something more exciting to think about.
Brigitte tossed and turned in the bed. The heavy weight duvet wrapped itself around her legs and pinned her to the mattress. A slight sheen of perspiration dampened the hairline of her forehead. She muttered in her sleep. The dream was so vivid she might have been living it.
“Now is the time to act.” The man ranted. “Now while they are grieving their misery. If we act now we will have won. They are lost without Dagda, there is no tribe, and there is no rule. Now is the time for me to show my strength and they will follow us like sheep to the slaughter.” His fist banged down hard on the wooden table. “Now,” he said, and began pacing the room. “We must carry on. Eliminate
the rest of the miserable soothsayers and we will weaken the links that bind them. It is Myrddin who we must take next. Without him they will crumble and fall apart. With one mighty, hammering blow from the Church we will crack the stones of their foundations until they shatter and are broken into fragments.”
Bending over the table and pushing his face closer to the abbot's, he banged his fist down again with such a force the man jumped in his chair. “We will leave them lost like shards of flint among the grass. Scattered, like seeds on barren land, to lie and perish. A plant with no root cannot be sustained and it will wither and die.”
He wiped away a gobbet of rabid spit from the corner of his mouth and waited for the Abbot to answer him.
“I will leave it in your hands, Patrick. May the plans you have formed bring swift fruition.”
“Good. We will take Myrddin tomorrow before we lose the sight of him. It is all planned.”
“Bind him well.” The abbot advised. “For he is naught but a slippery snake and God forbid he should escape us.”
Brigitte woke with a start. Her heartbeat thumped a violent rhythm in her chest. Hard and heavy, and faster than normal. Afraid of being in the dark, she switched on the overhead light. The bulb glowed bright and then began to flicker. She sat up in the bed. There was something in the room. She caught a movement from the corner of her eye, but like an irate black shadow, it flitted just out of sight. The light flickered once more with an unnatural luminosity and then died. It was pitch black. She couldn’t shift the image of Patrick from her mind. The way she’d seen the fleck of foaming saliva clinging to the corner of his mouth made her shudder and stomach twisted in knots.
Her mobile was on the night table, reaching for it she knocked the alarm clock off and it clattered to the floor. Her hand found the cold surface of the phone. She clutched it and pressed a button. She concentrated her vision on the illuminated screen. Jack’s number, she thought, where is Jack’s number. Her hands shook as she flipped through recent calls and found it. She pressed the call button and then the loud speaker button. It rang six times before he answered it. She counted every warbling tone and accompanied it with a prayer for him to answer and quick. Jack didn’t say hello, he just sort of grunted. “Jack,” her voice was hysterical. “There's somebody here.”
“What?”
“There's somebody here.”
“Who’s there?”
“I don't know, but its horrible.” she whispered. The hairs on her arms responded to the sudden cold chill by standing on end. She whined. It was a keening, high pitched sound of pure fear.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she hissed. The sound of her own voice in the silent room scared her even more. Lights, like tiny specks of stardust glimmered over the foot of the bed and the covers wrapped over her legs suddenly weighed more than they should have done. Brigitte’s heart thumped faster. “Its on the bed. I can feel it. My hearts going ten to the dozen. Oh my God, Jack…” Brigitte lost all semblance of control and started to cry.
“Are you sure?”
He doesn't believe me. I hate him. “Yes…” It came out as more of a scream and seemed to wake Jack up.
“I think you've just been dreaming, but if it makes you feel better, then just tell him to go away.”
Hysterical, Brigitte shouted out loud, “Fuck off!”
“That’s not quite what I had in mind.”
“What then?” she sobbed.
“It's possible something could have followed us back the other day, some spirit or other. Concentrate really hard and tell it to back off.”
“I can’t.” she whined.
“Yes you can.”
“I can’t.”
“O…kay. We’ll try something different.” Jack’s patience was in school teacher mode. He spoke slowly as if he were explaining a quantum theory to a difficult child. “Imagine I’m there with you.”
“In the bed?” That took her mind of her nocturnal visitor.
“If it makes you feel better, then yes.” Brigitte, fraught with nerves, giggled.
“That’s not concentrating.” he reprimanded.
“I’m trying.”
“You’re trying?”
“Yes, I’m trying.”
“Very, on occasion.” Jack didn’t give her time to comment. “Now imagine me there with a baseball bat and tell the spirit if he doesn’t back off then Jack’ll knock him for six.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, try it.”
“Nothing’s happening,” she snivelled.
“Try harder.”
Silence followed. Brigitte sat in the bed with her eyes screwed tight shut, concentrating hard and willing the malevolent presence to disappear back to where it had come from. Jack waited. There was a sonic buzz of atmospherics on the line.
“Are you trying?”
“Apparently so,”
“Ah! I take it we’ve had the required result then?” Brigitte, snotty-nosed from crying, sniffed and rubbed her pyjama sleeve across her tear streaked cheeks, then laughed out loud.
“I think it might have been my singing that got rid of him.”
“What did you sing?”
“Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged”’ Brigitte was sure she heard Jack sigh in exasperation on the other end of the line.
“I’m glad to see you can now find life amusing. Especially at this hour, do you know it’s nearly three in the morning?” Sudden guilt for being a panic head and waking Jack up in the middle of the night made Brigitte blush.
“Sorry, but I couldn’t have coped with that on my own. What do you think he wanted? Why was he here?”
“Probably just wanted to have his say. It's his home ground, he was somewhere around there when he was kidnapped and taken into slavery.”
Brigitte yawned. It was the wrong time of the day for a history lesson. “I'm exhausted,”
“ Not to worry, you’ll get used to dealing with the bad bits eventually. Life on the other side isn’t all sweetness and light either you know.” She wished he hadn’t told her that.
“Well no, I didn’t know, Jack, but I do now.”
“Try and get some sleep if you can. That sort of close encounter can be very tiring... for everybody.”
“Sleep? I can’t sleep now, what if he comes back?”
“I’ve a feeling he won’t. Well, not tonight anyway. He was just making his presence known.” Jack tried to reassure her. “Go on snuggle back down under the blankets and close your eyes.”
“Will you sing me a lullaby?”
“Brigitte…”
“I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Jack.” Brigitte ended the call before he could say anything else, took a quick look around the bedroom then switched the light off and fell straight to sleep.
Chapter 19
“Glad you could make it,” Jack said as he took her overnight bag from the boot of her car. “Come on follow me. I’ll get you settled in and then we’ll have a cup of tea or something stronger if you prefer,and I’ll explain in more detail.”
“What a beautiful old place this is.” Brigitte commented, admiring the building’s stone frontage and tall windows as she followed him up the steps to the main door. “What was it? The local squires hall?”
“Manor house actually-” Jack replied, manoeuvring her bag through the glass doorway of the porch. “It was converted to a hotel about five years ago. Not many families have much use for fifty rooms these days.”
“It looks like the sort of place you’d expect to find Wellington boots and brollies at the bottom of the stairs or even,” she laughed, delighted at the antiquity and homeliness of the place, “Six muddy golden Labradors waiting to come bounding out to greet you.” She followed him into a small reception area where the smell of lemon-scented furniture polish hung heavy in the air. There was no-one seated behind the carved mahogany desk. The hotel register lay open next to an ornate, antique style telephone. “Look at this.
It’s just like the one John Cleese had in Fawlty Towers. I’ve always wanted to ring one of these. Shall I and see if the bell boy comes running? What was his name?” Her finger hovered over a round brass bell on top of the desk.
Jack’s eyebrow shot up. “Manuel, I think. But don’t ring it’s not necessary.”
“Don’t I need to sign in or anything?”
“No, I’ve sorted it out already. I’ve got your room key here.” He pulled a small Yale key attached to a green plastic tag from his trouser pocket. “Your rooms right next to mine. Come on, I’ll show you where it is. Are you tired?” He asked, turning to look back at her as they climbed the wide, curving staircase. “I’m surprised you chose to drive such a long way.”
“A little,” she admitted, “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Nor, to be honest, was I expecting to make a four hour drive up to Cumbria at short notice. Days away from home aren’t usually part of my agenda.” And I won’t be telling you just how much wangling I had to do to get here either.
“I did think of taking the train, as you suggested, but with all the changes and everything driving seemed quicker. Especially as I’ve just lent my private jet to a friend and they haven’t given it back yet. Mind you I didn’t notice a landing strip so it’s probably better I bought the car.”
Jack laughed as he slipped the key in the lock and pushed the door open. “Voila,” he said. “All yours for the duration.”
Brigitte exhaled slowly taking in the surroundings. It was a lovely room. A four poster bed hung with white drapes held state in the middle. It was fronted by a huge, white-marble fireplace where an open log fire blazed in cheery warmth. She sunk ankle-deep in the red, thick pile carpet as she walked across the room to the French windows.
“Beautiful view of the gardens, isn’t it?” Jack said pulling the heavy, velvet curtains aside. He’d dumped her bag at the foot of the bed and come to stand behind her. The warmth of his breath was a soft, warm breeze against her earlobe.
“Is that a maze?’ She asked, peering out through the crystal panes and trying to pretend he really wasn’t standing quite that close. Her heart gave a strange sort of flutter, but she ignored it.