House of Echoes

‘In here?’

 

 

‘Why not. I suspect this has always been the main bedroom. They could have made love here. Perhaps even in this very bed.’

 

They both stared at it in silence.

 

‘I don’t think I can go through with this.’ Joss rubbed her eyes wearily.

 

‘Yes, you can. I promise.’ Natalie came and knelt in front of her again. ‘Think of your two little boys. You can do it for them.’

 

Joss took a deep breath. She looked up as the lightning flickered at the window again. ‘Yes, I can do it for them.’

 

 

 

There was a veil of red across her eyes. Beneath her hips the red soaked into sheets and mattresses and dripped into the thick-strewn herbs. Behind the red there was darkness.

 

Power.

 

Summon the power.

 

Remember the words she had heard her mother cry in the black candleless undercroft of the hall, the cry that would summon the powers of darkness from the very bowels of the earth.

 

Shrinking back from the woman in the bed who only seconds before had been her child, the old nurse stared into the shadows of the room. The whole household was there, watching in terror.

 

‘You,’ she caught the sleeve of the steward as he was slipping with the other men from the room, ‘call the priest and then ride for the king. Don’t stop for anything or he will be too late.’

 

‘But the Lady Margaret said –’ the man’s face was pasty with horror at what he had heard and seen.

 

‘This is not the time to obey the Lady Margaret. Lady Katherine’s wishes rule this house now.’

 

He nodded and with a final glance at the bed he slipped from the room.

 

For a while she drifted in and out of consciousness, then, slowly, her body began to tense, preparing for its last convulsive effort to rid itself of the burden that was killing it.

 

Her eyes flew open and she grabbed at the hands of the woman who still dared to come near her.

 

Behind them the priest, his hand outstretched to form the holy cross, had begun to murmur the words designed to bring her peace.

 

‘Per istam sanctam unctionem indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid deliquisti – ’

 

‘Stop!’ she screamed. ‘If God cannot help me, the devil will. The devil conjured by my mother to oversee my daughter’s birth.’

 

She half sat up, galvanised by one last burst of energy.

 

‘Go! Go priest! I don’t need you. If I die I will be buried in the devil’s earth! Go!’ Her voice had risen to a shriek.

 

‘Lie back, my lady, lie back. The little one is nearly here.’

 

The midwives had long gone, it was her own old nurse who pushed her back on the pillows, who reached amid the bloodied sheets and who at last held up the limp, half dead baby.

 

‘It is a boy, my lady,’ she whispered. ‘A little boy.’

 

‘No!’ Margaret pushed her aside. ‘It can’t be a boy!’

 

‘It is, my lady, a sweeting boy.’

 

The nurse busied herself with towels from the rail by the fire, rubbing the small cold body back to life. Behind her Katherine lay inert, her own life pouring from her.

 

‘See, my love, see your baby.’ The nurse wrapped the child tightly in a blanket and tried to push it into Katherine’s arms.

 

She opened her eyes. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No! No – ’

 

The last word was a scream.

 

‘I curse the man who got that child on me! I curse all men. I curse my son. He took my life from me. I curse that baby – the devil’s child – and I curse my mother for her sorcery.’

 

The hot tears trickled down her cheeks.

 

‘I wanted to live!

 

‘I wanted to live. Forever!’

 

 

 

It was my Lad-y Kather-ine!

 

The childish treble sounded in the room suddenly.

 

It was my Lad-y Kather-ine!

 

‘Georgie!’ Joss stood up. She took a deep breath. ‘Georgie, I want to see you!’

 

He was a dark-haired boy, sturdy, with a scattering of small freckles over his nose. Standing near the door he seemed very small, an uncertain shadow amongst deeper shadows. He grinned at Joss and she found herself grinning back.

 

‘Do you and Sammy want to go to heaven, Georgie? To be with our mother?’ She found she could speak quite steadily now.

 

He didn’t seem to hear her. He was staring past her at the window. ‘It was my Lady Katherine!’ he sang again, his voice more husky this time.

 

‘Shall we call her, Georgie? Shall we call the Lady Katherine here?’ she asked, but he had gone.

 

A flicker of lightning showed at the window followed by a low rumble of thunder as the lights dimmed.

 

‘I’m afraid.’

 

‘So am I. So was Georgie. That song. He was trying to warn us.’

 

‘Of what? That we had got it wrong? Is it Katherine who is the killer?’ Joss was still standing by the bed. She stared down at the crewel work cover as though she could find the answer stitched into the faded wools.

 

‘I don’t think she’s buried in the church, Joss. I don’t think she can be buried in consecrated ground.’

 

‘Not here! You don’t mean she’s somewhere here?’

 

They stared at each other in silence. It was Joss who spoke at last. ‘She’s under the cellar, isn’t she. Oh God, what are we going to do?’

 

‘We’re going to summon her.’

 

‘Down there? In the cellar?’ Joss took a deep breath. ‘Yes, that’s the best place. I don’t want her here. Oh God, Nattie, what are we going to do?’

 

‘Come on.’ Natalie took her hand. ‘Let’s get it over.’

 

‘Will Edward come down there? We need him. Katherine is the one who has killed. He never hurt anyone. He never hurt Tom or Ned, or not intentionally. He carried them. He hid them. He hid them from her.’ Joss’s face was white with strain.

 

‘You don’t know that, Joss. We must be careful. That’s all. Careful of everyone and everything.’

 

Her jaw set, Natalie led the way to the staircase. Lying on the top step was a white rose.

 

Joss stopped and picked it up. She stared round the shadowy landing.

 

‘Help us,’ she whispered. ‘Help us help her.’

 

It was my Lady Katherine!

 

It was my Lady Katherine!