He whirled round. In two steps he was back in the hallway at the foot of the stairs. He threw open the study door and then the dining room. There was no one in either room. Then his eye was caught by the cellar door. He frowned. The key was in the lock and the door was an inch or two open. ‘Edgar!’ Pushing the door open he groped for the light switch.
Edgar was lying crumpled at the bottom of the steps. ‘Oh Christ!’ David ran down two at a time. The old man was alive. He could hear his forced noisy breathing, see the livid colour of his face. ‘Edgar? What happened? Listen old chap, I’m going for help.’
He scrambled back up the stairs and ran through towards the kitchen. It took only seconds to dial 999, then he threw open the door and ran out into the yard. ‘Jimbo?’ Please God let him still be here. ‘Jimbo? Quickly!’
Jimbo appeared at the door of the coach house, wiping oil off his hands onto a filthy old towel. ‘Problem?’
‘Quickly. There’s been an accident. I’ve dialled 999. Come and help!’
He didn’t wait to see if Jimbo was following. Turning back inside the house he ran into the kitchen.
Jimbo was right behind him. ‘Did you ring the doctor? He’s much closer than an ambulance.’
‘Can you do it? I don’t know his number. Then come and help. In the cellar.’
Grabbing a couple of coats from the rack as he passed he ran back through the house and down the stairs. ‘Edgar? Edgar, can you hear me?’ He didn’t like to touch the man’s head which lay at an awkward angle. Resisting the urge to put something comfortable under it, he spread the two coats over him and gently touched his hand. ‘There’s an ambulance on its way, and the doctor. Hang on in there. It’s going to be all right.’ He saw a flicker beneath the old man’s eyelids. He was trying to speak.
‘No fool –’ Edgar was gasping for breath, ‘ – like old fool. I thought I knew enough; thought I was strong enough. She’s too good for me.’ He gave a rasping painful cough and David saw him wince with pain. ‘Don’t stay here. Don’t let them come back. Not yet. I must –’ he took a deep harsh breath, ‘ – must talk to bishop – ’
‘This cellar should be walled up.’ The doctor’s voice above them made David jump. ‘Dear God, how many more people are going to fall down these stairs?’ Bag in hand he ran down lightly and knelt beside Edgar. ‘Well Mr Gower. I thought you had more sense! A man your age running up and down and playing hide and seek in the cellars!’ His hands were running gently over Edgar’s head and neck, then on down his body, checking his arms and legs. ‘The paramedics are not going to believe this, you know.’ He was frowning, but his voice was cheerful as he went on. ‘I suppose you were pushed by the ghost as well?’ He raised an eyebrow as he turned to his bag and opening it drew out his stethoscope. ‘Here, let’s make you a bit more comfortable. You haven’t broken your neck as far as I can see. Tough old codgers, you clergymen!’ He lifted Edgar’s head and gently pulled some of the jacket under it to cushion it then he glanced at David. ‘Do you want to run upstairs and keep a look out for the ambulance? It should be here about now.’
Jimbo was waiting in the kitchen. ‘What’s happened?’
‘You didn’t think to come and look and perhaps help?’ David rounded on him.
‘You shouldn’t have meddled.’ Jimbo backed away from him. ‘I’m not going through there. No way. Is he dead?’
‘No, he’s not dead. What do you mean, we shouldn’t have meddled.’
‘You were trying to exorcise him, weren’t you. You were trying to chase him away from Belheddon. Well you can’t. There’s dozens have tried and they’ve all failed. They’ve died or they’ve gone mad. I told Joss. I told her not to meddle, but she wouldn’t listen. He won’t hurt her. He never hurts women.’
‘It was a woman we were trying to exorcise. A witch.’ David thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. ‘She’s at the root of all this trouble.’
Jimbo stared at him. ‘What do you mean, a witch? It’s Bael; the devil; old Nick. That’s who lives here.’
‘Maybe. But it was a witch who we were after. She’s at the root of all this trouble.’ David shuddered. ‘Did you hear a siren? That will be the ambulance. I’ll go and see.’
In the silence broken only by the electronic bleeps in the ward Edgar opened his eyes suddenly. He clutched David’s sleeve. ‘You have to go back to the house. Collect all my stuff. Don’t leave it there. You must not leave it there, do you understand?’ Beside him Dot, white with fear, was clutching his other hand.
David stared at him. ‘You want me to go back to Belheddon?’ He glanced involuntarily at the window. It was dark outside now.
‘You have to.’ Edgar was breathing with difficulty, his chest heaving. Beside him a battery of monitors measured every step of his battle for life. Only his extreme agitation had forced the doctors in the intensive care unit to allow David in to stand now, helplessly, at his bedside. ‘Believe me, I wouldn’t ask you to do it if it weren’t important.’ His voice was very weak. ‘Don’t stay. Don’t do anything. Ignore everything else. Just collect the wine and the bread and the other things. They use them, you see. Use them for evil.’
David nodded slowly. ‘I see.’
‘Please. You don’t have to come back here. Keep them in your car. Just as long as I know they’re not in the house.’ He was tiring. His face was draining of colour as his eyes closed.
‘Please.’ Dot took David’s hand and led him away from the bed. ‘You’ll be safe. Take this.’ She fumbled at her neck and produced a small gold cross. ‘Here. Let me put it on you.’ She reached up and fastened the chain round his neck, tucking the cross down out of sight under his shirt, then she smiled. ‘It’ll keep you safe. Ring me from London and tell me you’ve done it. He won’t rest till he knows.’ She turned back to the bed and David saw her lean over to plant a gentle kiss on the old man’s forehead. He opened his eyes and gave a faint smile. ‘She was too strong for me, Dot. My faith wasn’t strong enough.’ David could just hear the agonised whisper. ‘I’ve failed.’