David nodded. ‘Interestingly though there is a mention of the devil in an account written only fifty years later by James Fosset, an antiquarian who spent several months collecting stories and history in the district. His theory seems to me to be on the right lines. Listen.
‘“Belheddon Hall, one of the most beautiful of the local houses was built on a much earlier site. Some say it goes back to the dawn of time. The name derives from the old English bealu, meaning evil or calamity, and heddon meaning a heather-covered hill and would appear to point to the site having been used in pagan times as a site of worship and perhaps of sacrifice. Superstition and fear cling to the site and as little as a hundred years ago a witch was taken and hanged after having concourse with the devil in the grounds of the house.”
‘Do you see a pattern beginning to form? The hauntings, the pagan site, some poor old woman taken as a witch – slowly the pieces are falling into place. Somehow over the ages the two have got amalgamated and the result is a wonderful legend that it is the devil who haunts, or inhabits, the house. There. Your problem is solved. Andrews was a fascinating man. He knew most of this, I suspect, though he hadn’t come across the Fosset references. He says Edward IV actually came to the house on several occasions. That was when the de Vere family lived here. In fact he may have given them the house as at an earlier date the manor was in royal domain. After their day he thinks a whole host of different families lived here – none seems to have stayed more than a few generations, if that, although he thinks on several occasions the house passed down through the female line, so of course the surnames would have been different, just as it is now of course, with you.’ He looked up at Joss and smiled. ‘I hope you are pleased with my humble efforts?’
Joss nodded slowly. Her head was buzzing.
‘The king! The king is coming!’
The excitement in the house was reaching fever pitch.
Katherine scowled as her mother reached for the brush and dragged it through her tangled curls.
‘Be sweet to him, child.’ The cold lips were very close to Katherine’s ear.
The earl’s son was a good catch, but the king was better.
‘Be loving. Whatever your king desires, remember, it is his to command! ’
‘There is so much to take in.’ Joss gave a little half laugh. ‘It’s fascinating. I especially like the link with Edward IV. As my book is set during the Wars of the Roses, I can do my research right here.’ She shook her head again. Briefly she wondered if David too had heard the strange echo which seemed to fill the spaces of the house.
14
In the kitchen Tom was whining crossly, pulling at Lyn’s long checked skirt. ‘Pick me up!’ When she ignored him he stamped his small foot and wailed even louder. Joss frowned. Her arms full of dirty washing she had pushed open the kitchen door and come in to find Lyn on the phone. ‘Lyn?’
Tom’s wails grew louder.
Lyn turned away from him in irritation, clapping her free hand over the ear that was not pressed to the receiver. ‘Listen, I can come up any time,’ she said into the phone, ‘you know I can. I want to.’ She pushed Tom none too gently towards his toys and his wails doubled in volume.
Joss dropped the clothes she was carrying onto the floor in front of the washing machine and went to Tom, squatting down to give him a hug. ‘Leave Aunty Lyn while she’s on the phone.’ She looked up at Lyn. ‘Is that Mum you’re talking to?’ she whispered.
Lyn nodded.
‘How is she? Can I speak to her?’
But Lyn was already hanging up. ‘She’s OK.’
‘But she’s not! I wanted to speak to her.’
‘Then ring her back.’ Lyn scowled. ‘Tom was making such a racket I couldn’t hear myself think.’
Joss shook her head. ‘You know he doesn’t like us talking on the phone. He just wants attention and hates us being distracted from him. It’s a phase they all go through.’
‘Well, I hope it’s not a long one!’ Lyn stared at the washing in distaste. ‘I suppose you want me to put that lot in the machine.’
Joss narrowed her eyes. Lyn’s voice was full of resentment.
‘No, I can do it. What’s wrong, Lyn?’
‘You don’t care about Mum at all. You haven’t given her a thought. When did you last ring her? She said she hasn’t spoken to you in days!’
‘Lyn – ’
‘No. You don’t care anymore, do you. You’re just going to forget them. Your new family is so much more exciting. We were never good enough for you, were we!’ Lyn stormed across to the window and stood, arms folded, staring out.
‘That’s not true! For goodness’ sake, what’s the matter with you?’ Joss had to raise her voice as, upset by Lyn’s tone, Tom started to scream in earnest. Stooping, Joss picked him up and swung him onto her hip. ‘Lyn, what is it? Did Mum say something? Does she know what’s wrong with her?’
Lyn shook her head without speaking.
‘Is it cancer, Lyn?’ Joss put her hand on her sister’s shoulder.
Lyn shrugged miserably.
‘You must go, if you want to.’ Joss’s voice was gentler. ‘You don’t have to stay here, you know.’
Lyn sniffed. ‘You need me.’
‘I know I do. And Luke and I love having you here, Lyn. But if you’re not happy – ’
‘I love Tom.’
Joss smiled. ‘I know that too. And I love Mum and Dad. I always have and I always will. You mustn’t believe for a minute that I don’t. If I didn’t ring Mum yesterday, it was only that I was too busy – ’
‘Too busy to pick up the phone for two minutes?’ Lyn was still staring out of the window.
‘It didn’t mean I stopped loving her, Lyn.’
‘That’s what she thinks.’
‘She does not!’ Joss was angry suddenly. ‘And you know it.’ She turned away and unceremoniously dumped Tom on the floor in front of a pile of coloured bricks. Scooping up the heap of clothes she pushed them into the machine and reached for the detergent.
‘She’s going into hospital tomorrow, Joss.’ Lyn’s gaze was fixed unseeing on the window catch as she scratched at the flaking paint with her nail. Her voice was leaden.