‘This is the woman who murdered your brothers, Joss.’
‘I know.’ Joss took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. ‘She’s so unhappy, Luke. She’s lost. I don’t believe she was really evil. She was in too much pain to know what she was doing. I think we can help her – and make Belheddon safe for children. Our children.’
He shrugged. ‘OK. Let’s go for it. I’ll get a pick.’
They mended the fuses first and it was in a cellar full of light that they met again, half an hour later with pick-axe and shovel.
‘You realise this whole thing could be a waste of time.’ Luke gazed round them. He was feeling stronger now that the cellar was lit. ‘We are digging on a flash of intuition and the word of a ghost, who might or might not be imaginary.’
Joss smiled tolerantly. ‘We’re never really going to convince you, are we. Just dig.’
‘OK.’ He shrugged. Lifting the pick he inserted the point under the edge of the flag and began to try to lever it up. Taking turns in the cramped space David and Luke managed to lift four flags, then stood back exhausted. Janet had at some point left the cellar where Joss and Natalie stood, eyes riveted to the floor, and reappeared with a jug of Lyn’s home-made lemonade and some glasses.
‘Come on, rest for a moment,’ she said, setting the tray on the ground. They stood in a circle, looking down as they drank, staring at the sandy earth, aware of the acute silence around them.
It was Luke who put down his glass first. He had barely touched his drink. ‘Come on. Let’s get it over.’ He picked up the spade and drove it into the soil.
‘Gently, Luke. We don’t know if there’s a coffin.’ Joss put her hand on his shoulder. He straightened and looked at her for a moment, then he nodded.
‘Right. Gently does it.’
An hour later they had found nothing. A hole about three feet deep and as much across opened at their feet.
‘There’s nothing here.’ Luke put down the spade and reached for his glass.
‘There is. I’m sorry, Luke, but you have to go on.’
‘It could be six feet down, I suppose.’ David looked exhausted. There was a smear of earth across his face.
‘Perhaps you could ask her, Natalie?’ Janet was sitting on an old wine crate. ‘See if we’re on the right track.’
Natalie stepped forward. ‘Katherine?’ she called. ‘Katherine, you see. We’re trying to help you, but we must know, is this the right place?’
They all waited in silence. Joss was staring at the cavity in the wall where they had found the wax figures. Natalie’s eyes were fixed on the hole where the spade stood alone, shoved into the soil as Luke stood back to pick up his drink.
‘She’s got tired and gone off to bed. And I think that’s what I’m going to do as well.’
‘No. No, wait. Let’s try for just a while longer, please.’ Joss dropped to her haunches and picked up the trowel. She dug it into the earth and heard the small chink of metal. The sound electrified the others. They turned. Luke moved closer and knelt beside her. ‘What is it?’
‘Here.’ Joss lifted the trowel full of soil and ran it through her fingers. Left lying in her palm was a small gold ring.
Joss took a deep breath. ‘It’s her message.’
Luke nodded. He caught her eye and gave a rueful, private smile. He dug more carefully this time, inserting the spade almost gently, transferring the lifted earth to the steadily growing pile on the floor behind them.
They found the body at about a metre depth. There was no coffin; there were no clothes; no flesh now, just the bones, lying on a floor of earth much harder than the soft friable soil which had lain on top of them. Using the trowel Luke lifted away as much of the earth as he could without touching the bones and they stood looking down at the skeleton before them. There were two other rings on the finger bones and a gold chain around the neck, an earth-encrusted enamelled pendant lying amongst the narrow, fragile ribs.
It was my Lady Katherine
Joss knelt down. Her eyes had filled with tears. ‘Poor girl. She was so small.’
‘How are we going to move her?’ David put his hand on Joss’s shoulder.
She shrugged. The face she raised to him and Luke was white and strained. ‘First we must dig the new grave.’
‘Tonight?’
Joss nodded. ‘Tonight. While it’s dark. Then the sun can warm her in the morning.’
Natalie offered to stay with the bones; it seemed somehow indecent to leave them alone now they were exposed. The others went out into the garden with torches. Joss had already chosen the spot in her mind. It was perfect: out beyond the lake, where the wild roses tangled over the old pergola and the sun dial registered the passing of the hours.
They dug the hole in the old rose bed, the earth soft and cold under the clogging November mist which had closed over the garden as the wind dropped and the rain petered away.
Joss emptied the carved cedar box from the study which contained piles of old sheet music. She lined it with her own fringed scarf of rough wild silk and then on her knees lifted the skull from the earth as the others watched. The rest of the bones she picked from the soil and put them reverently into the box and with them the rings and chain and pendant, then last of all the wax dolls, still wrapped in their blue scarf from the dresser drawer, then she closed the lid at last.
Luke picked up the box and carried it slowly up the stairs.
The garden was dank and cold as they walked after him across the wet grass and under the pergola to the little grave. Puffing he set the box down beside it. ‘Are you going to say something?’
Joss stood staring down. ‘I don’t know what to say. I don’t think she wants our prayers.’
‘She wants peace, Joss. Peace and forgiveness,’ Natalie murmured quietly. ‘Then all the other spirits here can rest too; the lost boys from all the centuries and their fathers, the poor men she cursed and hounded to their deaths in her pain and hatred.’