Part 7 (2/2)

This is so difficult,' she said to Enniel.

He poured her a large brandy and brought it over to her without words, offering her his silk handkerchief along with the gla.s.s. It is important you tell me everything,' he said. You don't know how important.'

Aninka blinked at him, sipping the fiery liquor. He must be punished.'

Enniel touched her face. Rest a.s.sured, that will happen, and is doubtless happening already. He will be punis.h.i.+ng himself.'

Aninka shook her head fiercely. I don't think so! Othman is a beast, an Anakim, without compa.s.sion!'

He may be these things,' Enniel said gently, and then drew in his breath, as if he'd been about to say more, but had changed his mind.

Yes?' Aninka prompted. What else?'

Enniel shook his head and smiled. It is you who has the information, my dear. I am merely a sympathetic ear.'

He doesn't realise I've grown up, Aninka thought. He believes I can't tell he's lying to me.

Chapter Seven.

Sunday, 18th October: Little Moor Verity had been in a furious temper when she'd gone to bed on Sat.u.r.day night. It had been altogether a strange day. First the dreams, then the arrival of the cat, then the conversation with Daniel. Verity was used to routine and none of these things happened regularly. She had deliberately buried all thoughts of her past, and they rarely disinterred themselves to worry her. Why she should suddenly start dreaming of people she had long discarded, she could not imagine. Nothing had happened to invoke them. She felt very peculiar all day, somehow liquid in her joints and floating in her mind. The dreams had obviously disrupted her sleep more than she'd realised. Neither Louis nor Daniel seemed to notice anything different about her.

The black cat lay contentedly before the range in the kitchen all day, interrupting his rest only to eat the sliced chicken Verity put before him and drink a dish of milk. She knew in her heart he was going to stay, even though he had evidently been cared for recently. She wondered what she should call him; he was so big and so black. The name Satan' sprang to mind, for it seemed apt, but Verity shrank from calling the word out loud anywhere in the house. She felt spooked enough as it was. Instead, she decided to call him Raven; that was a black enough name without being too sinister. Louis had seemed pleased about the cat. Verity knew her father thought that caring for the animal would be good for her, but his misguided sentimentality did not gall her enough to throw the creature out.

While they ate their dinner that evening - Daniel secreted upstairs in his lair - Louis had said to her, It's good to have a pet. We need some life about the place.'

Verity shrugged and daintily spooned soup into her mouth. She wished her father would drop the subject. It was nothing to do with him.

What was that racket this morning?' Louis asked. It woke me.'

Daniel,' Verity answered. He'd lost his key.'

Ah...'

And how was your evening at The White House?' It was an act of charity, Verity felt, to ask Louis about his activities.

Very nice,' Louis answered, and then paused significantly. Verity sensed an unwelcome remark was imminent.

We should have the Eagers over for dinner some time,' Louis said. I'm always eating there.'

Verity grimaced, wondering whether she could stomach a whole evening of Barbara Eager's forced jollity. As you like,' she said. It was as if Louis had been asking her permission.

We could have a bit of a dinner party,' Louis said. Invite a couple of Daniel's friends. The Winters, perhaps.'

This unexpected suggestion jolted Verity out of her complacency. The Winters? Are you serious? I doubt they know how to use knives and forks.'

Louis frowned. Don't be a sn.o.b, Vez. Lily Winter seems a pleasant girl.'

She might be, but Owen Winter is a filthy slob. I don't know how you can contemplate having him in the house.'

Barbara seems to think they're both OK.'

Oh well, that's settled then!' Verity snapped. No doubt Mrs Eager thinks they're quaint, like an arrangement of dried flowers or rusty old farm machinery used as ornaments. Yes, I can just see Owen Winter as a rustic ornament in The White House!'

I wish you wouldn't be so snappy all the time,' Louis said. The Winters might be a bit scruffy, but they have no parents, so they're bound to run a bit wild. It wouldn't do any harm to be friendly.'

By this, Verity gathered Barbara Eager must have said something about the Winters the previous night. Do-gooding busy-body. Oh, honestly, Dad! Owen Winter is a bad influence on Daniel. You shouldn't encourage him. They were out all night on Friday, G.o.d knows what they get up to. Aren't you concerned what Daniel might be doing?'

For a moment, father and daughter looked at one another intensely. Then Louis seemed to gather himself together. I don't believe you care, madam!' He struggled awkwardly to his feet. I'll arrange something for next week. It's about time we started socialising more.'

So Verity had gone to bed in a foul mood, her temper alleviated only by the attentions of the cat, who trotted up the stairs at her side, his long tail brus.h.i.+ng her legs. Things are getting out of control, she thought, and then banished the idea. No. No. Bad to let things get out of control. Let Louis have his little dinner party. It was bound to be a disaster. The thought of facing Owen Winter's satyr smile by candlelight was chilling. Still, she could be as rude to him as she liked. She didn't care what the Eagers thought, or Winter's mousy sister. Perhaps the Winters wouldn't accept an invitation to Low Mede.

She lay in bed fantasising a hundred witty retorts across the dinner table. The cat jumped onto the bed and began was.h.i.+ng itself. She could feel his comforting weight against her legs, his soft, private purr.

In the morning, she'd woken to the distant chime of church bells from a neighbouring village. She heard Raven chirruping, the soft thump of his feet as he ran across the floor. Her window was open a crack. It admitted the unmistakable smells of autumn. Sunlight fell dreamily into the room. Everything seemed to be in soft focus. Verity was aware that she had awoken in good spirits. She sat up in bed, smiling down at the cat, who was rolling around on the floor. Then, her face creased into a slight frown of disapproval. Raven appeared to be fighting with her underwear; biting the fabric, whilst mewing and purring to himself. There was something distinctly lascivious about his behaviour, and Verity was a little disgusted by his evident enjoyment of the smells her body had left upon the cloth. She clapped her hands and said Hey!' The cat lay back and stared at her through slitted eyes, his back legs still idly kicking, entangled in the straps of her bra.

Eva Manden, Little Moor's post mistress, was worried about her mother. The old lady hadn't been right since they'd closed the shop on Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Eva had woken in the early hours of Sunday morning, alerted by an unfamiliar sound. She had found her mother wandering up and down the landing in moonlight, feeling along the walls with her crinkled hands.

What is it, Mother?' she'd demanded. Do you want the toilet?'

Out of my way!' cried the old woman in an uncharacteristically strong voice. I'm looking for a way out.'

Go back to bed,' Eva soothed, moving to take hold of the woman in her arms.

Unexpectedly, her mother lashed out at her. Get your hands off me, girl! I need to get out. It's time. It's nearly time!'

Time for what?' Eva's heart sank. Her mother's voice sounded so young.

In the moonlight, the old woman's eyes were glinting with an icy fire. Youth still lived there, and power. Something I doubt you'll be happy for. Something I deserve. They've come back, Evie. Like it or not, they've come back!'

Eva had pressed herself against the wall. Her lungs ached as if the air had been punched from her body. It couldn't be. No. That was all over, over and done with. She only had to wait for her mother to die now. There could be no return.

The old woman looked at her daughter with clever, glittering eyes. You can't stop it. I know what you think, but there's nothing you can do to stop it.'

Eva attempted to claw reality back. Mother, you're dreaming. Come with me. Come back to bed. I could make you a nice hot drink.'

For a few moments, the old woman stared up at the high window above the stairs. She drew in her breath slowly, tasting the air. Can smell it,' she said. The smell of a man, of more than a man.' Then her shoulders had slumped. Whatever brief energy had enlivened her had fled. Bed, yes.' Her voice had shrunk back to a whine. And a nice cup of Ovaltine.'

Relieved, Eva led her mother back to her own room. Perhaps it had been an isolated episode. It had to be.

At lunchtime, the traveller had a visitor. He had been hanging around The White House in the hope that Lily and Owen would turn up and was therefore surprised, and even a little disappointed, when Owen arrived alone. The boy was wearing the same tatty jumper he'd worn the previous evening and a pair of very scuffed leather trousers, perhaps influenced by Othman's own attire. He had also apparently brushed his hair. His flawless skin looked shockingly clean against the oily wool of his jumper.

Lily's busy,' he said. I've got the car outside. I'll show you around.'

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