The great hall was very cold when Edgar walked into it. He stared round, shivering. Outside there was brilliant sunshine, and the low November sun was slanting in at the windows, throwing patches of warm light on the flag stones. He saw the dead flowers and frowned. Bad vibes. He grinned to himself. There were things that even his New Age dotty daughter could teach him and vibes was one of them. Vibes mattered. He walked through to the study, stepping over the scattering of toys on the floor at the foot of the stairs and pushed open the door. Sunlight filled the room. It was warm and welcoming. He felt a quick surge of anger. This was such a beautiful house. A home. A family home for hundreds of years and yet it was blighted – blighted by the spite and greed of one woman if David’s theory was to be believed. A woman who had used her daughter to lure a king, who had conspired to have the king sleep with that daughter and who, when she found he was not prepared to abandon his wife to marry the girl, used her evil arts to cause her death and probably his as well.
He stood thoughtfully in front of the fire. She had been very powerful, Margaret de Vere, if they were right. She had enlisted the help of the devil, and somehow her viciousness had survived the centuries to threaten the occupants of the house to this very day. He went over in his mind the things he would do. The rite of exorcism was powerful. He had done it here before when he had been licensed by the bishop to perform the service, and he had come here with Holy Water to cleanse the house on more than one occasion both before and since. Why had that not worked? Why had nothing worked? Was it that he was not powerful enough?
He swallowed his doubts quickly, gazing round the room again. On each previous occasion he had addressed his exorcism to some unspecified evil – probably male – not identifying his quarry. This time it would be different. He intended to address Margaret de Vere by name and banish her forever from the house.
He found David opening a biscuit tin. ‘All right?’ David sounded anxious. He had been gone longer than he realised.
‘All right.’ Edgar wished he felt stronger. He sat down at the table and helped himself to one of the blue earthenware mugs. ‘We’ll do it in the great hall, I think. It’s the centre of the house, and wherever she cast her spells and wove her charms, it is the whole house that needs to be freed from her.’
‘And can you release the boys?’
Edgar shrugged. ‘I hope so.’
David grimaced. ‘I feel as though I’m taking part in some fairy story written by the brothers Grimm. Magic. Witches. Trapped enchanted children. It’s grotesque.’
‘It is.’ Edgar put down his mug. Suddenly he could not face coffee or biscuit. ‘Come on. Let’s get on with it, shall we? The sooner the better.’
Picking up his briefcase he led the way through into the great hall once more. The sunlight had gone. In the short space of time while he had been in the kitchen the skies had greyed and the room was filled with gloom. ‘Can you get rid of those flowers, old chap. I’ll spread my stuff out here on the table.’ He unpacked the cross and stood it before him.
Georgie
The voice from the stairs was loud and quite clear.
The vase of flowers slipped from David’s hand and crashed to the floor, spilling slimy green water and dead flowers over his feet and onto the flags. ‘Christ! Sorry.’ The stench from the water was overpowering.
‘That’s all right. I’ll help you clear it up. Careful, don’t cut yourself.’ Edgar stooped down next to David, picking up slivers of broken glass. ‘I should have warned you. There may well be manifestations.’
‘What sort of manifestations?’
Edgar shrugged, his hands full of glass and flower stems. ‘Noises. Lights. Banging and crashing. Evil doesn’t like to be dispossessed.’
David took a deep breath. ‘I’m trying to think of this as historical research.’
‘Don’t,’ Edgar spoke sharply. ‘Bring this all through to the kitchen and we’ll find something to mop up the water. This is not an experiment for your amusement. This is serious beyond words.’ He threw the mess in his hands into the bin and reached for a floor cloth, wringing it out in the sink. ‘I want that room spotless. Foul water is not something we want in there.’
Obediently David helped him clean the floor, and finish it off with a spray of disinfectant from the bottle under the sink. Only when order was completely restored would Edgar, his hands washed and dried, go back to his unpacking. David stood close to him, wishing the sun would come out again. He was finding the darkness of the room oppressive in spite of the lights. ‘Shall I find some candles?’ He had expected to find them part of Edgar’s kit.
The other man nodded. ‘It would be helpful.’
They were, David remembered, in the cupboard under the gallery. He walked over to it and pulled open the door. A toy car fell out at his feet. He stared down at it, feeling suddenly rather sick.
Sammy
The call was from the opposite doorway. He swung round.
‘Take no notice.’ Edgar’s voice was calm and steady. ‘Bring the candles over here.’
‘I can’t. There aren’t any.’
‘Look in the kitchen then. I saw some candlesticks on the dresser.’
David walked towards the doorway where the voice had come from. To his shame he was feeling a little unsteady. He took a deep breath and went out into the long passage which led from the front door back to the kitchen. It was very cold, the draught from the door as bad as ever. The kitchen was a haven of warmth and brightness. He collected the two candlesticks from the dresser, and rummaging in the drawers, found two new blue candles. Putting them in place he carried them back to the great hall.
Edgar frowned. ‘Were there no white ones? It’s stupid of me. I should have brought them. I usually keep them in my case.’
‘They’re the only ones I could find.’ David put them reverently on either side of the cross. ‘What now?’
‘I’m going to bless the house and cleanse it with Holy Water. Then I’m going to pray for the banishment of evil and I’m going to celebrate communion here at this table.’