‘What was it?’ Joss was panting as they made their way swiftly up the path. She was feeling sick with fear.
‘Some kind of energy. Black energy.’
‘It wasn’t a person?’
‘No, it wasn’t a person.’
Joss stopped, clutching her side. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve got a stitch. I can’t go on. Are we safe here? I thought churches were safe, sacred places, Natalie!’
‘They are usually, but this one was desecrated by the burial of someone who practised the black arts, right in front of the altar. Who knows what it might have done to the church?’ Natalie took a deep breath, more unnerved than she liked to admit even to herself. ‘As I said, I’ve never felt anything before here – but then,’ she gave a tight smile, ‘I never came here much. Something has happened here recently –’ she paused. ‘Mary Sutton. Jim told me she died here. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was you coming back to the Hall with small children; there haven’t been any children here in years. I don’t know.’ She shook her head. ‘There used to be stories about the church – there was a booklet, my mum had it. Maybe I’ll ask her. I think we should go back to the house.’
‘But the house – ’
‘I know.’ Natalie gave a grim laugh. ‘The house is frightening too. But at least I know what I’m dealing with there.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ Joss had doubled up, trying to ease the pain in her side, overcome by a wave of dizziness.
Natalie did not appear to have noticed. She was frowning back at the church. ‘Joss, did you see where that energy came from?’
‘Near the door.’
‘It started in front of Katherine’s brass.’
Katherine
The word reverberated in the silence.
This time they both heard it.
‘Is she buried near that brass or is it just a memorial?’
Joss shrugged. Slowly she straightened. She leaned back against the old chestnut tree near the gate and took deep slow breaths, trying to calm the lurching in her stomach. Nearby, the grave of her father lay in deep shadow. Beyond it she could just see the small white crosses which showed her where Georgie and Sam were buried.
Almost without realising it, Joss reached out for Natalie’s hand. ‘I’m scared,’ she whispered. ‘Terribly scared.’
41
David was standing in the courtyard with Luke when they emerged from the path. He kissed Joss and shook hands with Natalie and led the way into the kitchen. Jimbo after giving his sister a perfunctory slap on the back preferred to stay with the car he was working on.
‘I found someone to look after my classes for me this afternoon, so I could get away.’ David was carrying his holdall and an arm full of books and papers which he dropped onto the kitchen table. ‘Lots more about Belheddon and the families that lived here and the de Veres and Edward IV and Richard III.’ Neither he nor Luke appeared to have noticed the women’s white faces or their silence.
Acutely aware that her hands were shaking, Joss reached for the books, staring curiously in spite of herself, at the top one.
‘It was dreadful – the accident. Quite dreadful. I still feel so guilty.’ David met Joss’s eye at last. ‘I should never have rung him; never have let him come here. I’m so sorry.’
‘It wasn’t your fault, David.’ Joss put down the books and took his hand. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself.’
His fingers closed over hers and for a moment he felt he was drowning in her gaze. Beautiful, bewitching woman. Abruptly he remembered where he was and let go of her hand. Luke hadn’t noticed. He was talking to Natalie.
He glanced at the newcomer again. She too was a very attractive woman, he noticed, and smartly dressed now that she had taken off that horrendous old jacket. He wondered how she fitted in.
As if she had heard his question she fixed her large grey eyes on his. ‘You are asking yourself what I am doing here. Let me introduce myself. Visiting psychic, medium, nutter and according to my father, witch.’ She smiled in, he thought, an extremely sane fashion. ‘I’m here to try to help.’ She glanced at Joss and gave her a reassuring nod. Neither of them for the moment, were going to mention what had happened in the church.
‘That’s good to hear.’ David smiled back. His nervousness about returning to the house had gone. It was all right, here in the warm kitchen, with three other people in broad daylight. He looked at Luke. ‘The boys are staying with the Goodyears, you say? Don’t let them come back until this is sorted out.’
Luke tightened his lips. ‘I think that has already been agreed. So, what are you going to do? I take it that you have come to help too.’ His gaze rested on David’s face for a few seconds longer than was necessary. Then he looked from David to Natalie and back.
David shrugged. ‘I leave it up to the expert.’
Natalie grimaced. ‘Who is, at the moment, a little at a loss.’ She pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘Can I suggest you wait in here? Make some coffee or something and let me go for another wander round on my own. There are things I need to understand.’
They watched in silence as she let herself out of the kitchen and the sound of her heels on the flags in the hall died away.
‘Brave lady,’ David commented quietly. ‘Especially in view of some of the things I’ve read in here. One interesting snippet of history. Katherine’s child, whether he was the son of her husband or of the king survived the birth that killed her. He lived until 1500, and although he was only eighteen when he died he had had time to marry and father a daughter, a daughter named for his mother, Katherine.’ He patted his pile of books. ‘Otherwise these are more to do with witchcraft and magic. They were into some really sophisticated evil in those days.’