Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine By the same author KINGDOM OF SHADOWS CHILD OF THE PHOENIX ENCOUNTERS (SHORT STORIES) MIDNIGHT IS A LONELY PLACE HOUSE OF ECHOES DISTANT VOICES (SHORT STORIES) BARBARA ERSKINE Lady of Hay HarperCollinsPublishers HarperCollinsPub//shers 77-85 Fulham Palace Road, Hammersmith, London W6 8JB This paperback edition 1996 7986 First published in Great Britain by Michael Joseph Ltd 1986 Published by Sphere Books Ltd 1987 Published by Warner Books 1992 Copyright Barbara Erskine 1986 The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this ork ISBN 0 0 00 649780 2 Set in Plantin Printed and bound in Great Britain by Caledonian International Book Manufacturing Ltd, Glasgow All rights reserved. No pa of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purcliaser. For Michael I should like to thank all the people who have gone to such endless trouble to help me with the research for this book, particularly Professor Ann Matonis for her translations into Middle and Modem Welsh (for any mistakes in the transcriptions of which I must take the blame). I should also like m thank Dr Brian Taylor, Dr Michael Siddons and Dr Brian Blandford for their advice on matters medical, heraldic and musical; my father, who has driven so many miles m double check on locations in the Welsh hills; and Carole Blake, for all her help and encouragement. And finally I must make special mention of Jean Walter, without whoe meticulous typing this book might never have been finished! Barbara Erakine Lianigon and Great Tey 1985 WALES AND THE BORDER MARCH GWYNEDD POWYS WIGMORE . BUI LTH. RAINOR. LEOMINS'IR . ELFAEL PAINSCASTLE HEREFORD w CLYRO LLOWE OHAY ACONBKY LLANDEUO "IALGA RTH FISHGUARD BRECKNOCK CATLE DINA DEHEUBARTH I,RYCHEINIOG LLrHOV '. DAVIDS EWIAS TRETOWER . ,GROSMONT PLACES IN THE STORY KINGS LYNN Prologue Edinburgh 1970 It was snowing. Idly Sam Frankiyn stared out of the dirty window up m the sky and wondered if the leaden cloud would provide enough depth to ski by the weekend. 'Tape on now, Dr Franldyn, if you please.' Professor Cohen's quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. Sam turned, glancing at the young woman lying so calmly on the couch, and switched on the recorder. She was an attractive girl, lender and dark, with vivacious grey-green eyes, closed now beneath long curved lashes. He grinned to himself. When the eion was over he intended to offer her a lift back into town. The psychology labs were cold. As he picked up his notebook and began heading up a new page he leaned across and touched the grotesquely large cream radiator and grimaced. It Cohen's office was small and cluttered, furnished with a huge desk buried beneath books and papers, some half dozen crowded together to accommodate tutorial students, when there were any, and the couch, covered by a bright tnan rug, where most of his volunteers chose to lie whilst i were under hypnosis, 'as if they are afraid they will down' he had commented once to Sam as yet another woman had lain nervously down as if on a sacriliclal altar. :The walls Of the room were painted a light cold blue which .did nothing to improve the temperature. Anyone who could comfortably in Michael Cohen's office, Sam used to hink wryly, was halfway to being mesmerised already. Next to him the radiator let out a subterranean gurgle, but it grew no hotter. : Professor Cohen seated himIf next to the couch and took the girl's hand in his. He had not bothered to do that for his l two victims Sam noticed, and once more he grinned. : He picked up his pen and began to write: Hypnotic Regression: Clinical Therapy Trials Subject 224: Joanna Clifford 2nd year Arts (English) Age: 19 Attitude: He chewed the end of the pen and glanced at her again. Then he put 'enthusiastic but open-minded' in the column: Historical aptitude: Again he paused. She had shrugged when they asked her the routine questions to determine roughly her predisposition to accurate invention. 'Average, I suppose,' she had replied with a smile. 'O-level history. Boring old Disraeli and people like that. Not much else. It's the present I'm interested in, not the past.' He eyed her sweater and figure-hugging jeans and wrote as he had written on so many other record sheets: Probably aerage. Professor Cohen had finished his preliminary tests. He turned to Sam. 'The girl's a good subje.t. There's a deep trance established already. I shall being regressing her now. ' Sam turned back to the window. At the beginning of the series of tests he had waited expectantly at this stage, wondering what would be revealed. Some subjects produced nothing, no memories, no inventions; some emerged as colourful characters who enthralled and amazed him. But for days now they had been working with routine ill-defined personalities who replied in dull monosyllables to all the questions put to them and who did little to further their research. The only different thing about this girl- as far as he knew- were her looks: those put her in a class by herself. The snow was thickening, whirling sideways, blotting out the buildings on the far side of the street, muffling the sound of car tyres moving north towards the city. He did not botther to fisten to the girl's words. Her son English voice sounded tired and blurred under hypnosis and he would have to listen again and again to the tape anyway as Cohen transcribed it and tried to fathom where her comments, if there were any, came from. 'And now, Joanna,' the Professor's voice rose slightly as he hifted on the high stool to make himself more comfortable. 'We'll go back again, if you please, back before the darkness, back before the dreams, back to when you were on this earth before.' He is getting bored too, Sam thought dryly, catching sight ofhis boss glancing at his watch. The girl suddenly flung out her arm, catching a pile of books on the table beside the couch and sending them crashing to the floor. Sam jumped, but she seemed not to have noticed. She was pushing herself up onto her elbow, her eyes open, staring in front of her. Cohen was all attention. Quietly he slid from the stool and m she stood up he moved it out of her way. Sam recovered from his surprise and wrote hastily: Subject somnambulant," nun from couch. Eyes open; pupils dilated. Face pule and drawn. 'Joanna,' Cohen spoke softly. 'Would you not like to sit down again, lassie, and tell us your name and where you are.' She swung round, but not to face him. Her eyes were fixed on some point in the middle of the room. She opened her -mouth as if trying to speak and they saw her run her tongue ross her lips. Then she drew herself up with a shudder, Clutching at the neck ofher sweater. . 'William?' she whispered at last. Her voice was husky, [rarely audible. She took a step forward, her eyes still fixed on the same point. Sam felt the skin on the back of his neck as he found himself looking at it too, half expecting mmaeone or something to appear. . His notebook forgotten, he waited, holding his breath, for ' ker to speak again, but she stayed silent, swaying slightly, her ,face drained of colour as she began to stare around the room. Disconcerted, he saw that huge tears had begun to run slowly "dewn her cheeks. -'Tell us where you are and why you are crying.' The quiet ent voice of Profe'or Cohen seemed to Sam a terrible intrusion on her grief but to his surprise she turned and looked straight at him. Her face had become haggard and old. 'William,' she said am , and then gave a long desperate cry which tore through Sam, turning his guts to water.' William. Slowly she raised her hands and stared at them. Sam dragged his eyes from her face and looked too. As he did so he heard a gasp and realised with a shock that the sound had come from his own throat. Her hart& had begun to bleed. Electrified, he pushed himlf away from the window and reached out towards her but a sharp word from Cohen stopped him. 'Don't touch her. Don't do anything. It's incredible. Incr'bl; the older man breathed. 'It's auto:suggestion, the stigmata of religious fanatics. I've never seen it before. Incrediblel' Sam stood only feet from her as she swayed once again, cradling her hands against her chest as if to ease their pain. Then, shivering uncontrollably, she fel to her knees. 'William don't leave me. Oh God, save my child,' she whispered brokenly. 'Let someone come. Please... bring us... bring him.., food. Please... I'm so cold.., so cold...' Her voice trailed away to a sob and slowly she subsided onto the floor. 'Oh God... have mercy on... me.' Her fingers grasped convulsively at the rush matting which carpeted the room, and Sam stared in horror as the blood seeped from her hands onto the sisal, soaking into the fibres, congealing as she lay there emitting dry, convulsive sobs. Joann? Joannal' Cohen knelt awkwardly beside her and, defying his own instructions, he laid his hand on her shoulder. 'Jo--nna, lass, I want you to listen to me.' His face was compassionate as he touched her, liliing a strand of her heavy dark hair, gently stroking her cheek. 'I want you to stop crying, do you hear me? Stop crying now and sit up, there's a good girl.' His voice was calm, professionally confident as the two men watched her,. but there was growing anxiety in his eyes. Slowly her sobs grew quieter and she lay still, the harsh rasping in her throat dying away. Cohen bent closer, his hand still on her shoulder. 'Joanna.' Gently he shook her. 'Joanna, are you hearing me? I want you to wake up. When I count three. Are you ready? One... two.., three...' Under his hand her head rolled sideways on the matting. Her eyes were open and unblinking, the pupils dilated. "Joanna, do you hear me? One, two, thru.' As he counted Cohen took her by the shoulders and half'lifted her from the floor. 'Jooo for the love of Ged, hear me...' The panic in the man's voice galwni:l Sam into action. He dropped on his knees beside them, his fingers feeling rapidly for a pulse in the girl's throat. 'Christ! There's nothing there!' 'Joanna:' Cohen was shaking her now, his own face ashen. ;Jonnl[ You must wake up, girll' He calmed himseifwith a visible effort. 'Listen to me. You are going to start to breathe now, slowly and calmly. Do you hear me? You are breathing now, slowly, and you are with William and you have both ,esten. You are happy. You are warm. You are alive, You ar alim." Sam felt his throat constrict with panic. The girl's wrist, p between his fingers, had begun to grow cold. Her face Jd taken on a deathly pallor, her tips were turning grey. . ring for an ambulance.' Cohen's voice had lost all its command. He sounded like an old man as he scrambled to his jet. .. 'No time.' Sam pushed the Professor aside. 'Kneel here, by head, and give her mouth to mouth. Now man! When I sol' Crouching over the girl he laid his ear to her chest. The, the heel of one hand over the other, he began to mas::sage her heart, counting methodically as he did so. For a .... moment Cohen did not move. Then he bent towards her Just as his lips touched hers Jonns drew an i. sgouising, gasping breath. Sam sat hack, his fingers once . :more to her pulse, his eyes fixed on her face as her eyelids '/ckered. 'Go on talking to her.' he said urgently under his : breath, not taking his eyes from her face. Her colour Was beginning to return. His hands were once more on her ribs, gently feeling the slight flutter of returning life. One breath, then another; laboured painful gulps of air. Gently Sam chafed her ice-cold hands, feeling the stickiness of her blood where it had dried on her fingers and over her palms. He stared down at the wounds. The cuts and grazes were real: lesions all around the fmgernaiis and on the pads of the fingers, blisters and cuts on her palms, and a raw graze across one knuckle. Cohen, making a supreme effort to sound calm, began to talk her slowly out of her trance. 'That's great, Joanna, good girl. You're relaxed now and warm and happy. As soon as you feel strong enough I want you to open your eyes and look at me... That's lovely... Good girl.' Sam watched as she slowly opened her eyes. She seemed not to see the room, nor the anxious men kneeling beside her on the floor. Her gaze was focused on the middle distance, her expression wiped smooth and blank. Cohen smiled with relief. 'That's it. Now, do you feel well enough to sit up?' Gently he took her shoulders and raised her. 'I am going to help youstand up so you can sit on thecouch again.' He glanced at Sam, who nodded. Carefully, the two men helped her to her feet and guided her across the room; as she lay down obediently Cohen covered her with the rug. Her face was still drawn and pale as she laid her head on the pillow. She curled up defensively, but her breathing had become normal. Cohen hooked his stool towards him with his toe, and perching hlmself on it, he leaned forward and took one of her hands in his. 'Now, Joanna, I want you to listen carefully. I am going to wake you up in a moment and when I do you will remember nothing of what has happened to you here today, do you understand? Nothing, until we come and ask you if you would like to be regressed another time. Then you will allow us to hypnotise you once more. Once you are in a trance again, you will begin to relive all the events leading up to this terrible time when you died. Do you understand me, Joanna?' 'You can't do that.' Sam stared at him in horror. 'Christ, man! You are planting a time bomb in that girl's mind!' Cohen glared back. 'We have to know who she is and what happened to her. We have to try and document it. We don't even have a datefLx. : .' 'Does that matter?' Sam tried to keep his voice calm. 'For God's sake! She nearly died!' Cohen smiled gently. 'She did die. For a moment. What a subject! I can build a whole new programme round her. Those hands! I wonder what the poor woman can have been doing to injure her hands like that. No, Dr Franklyn, I can't leave it at that. I have to know what was happening to her, don't you see? Hers could be the case which proves everyHe stared down at her again, putting his hands lightly on her face, ignoring Sam's protests. 'Now Joanna, my dear, you will wake up when I have counted to three and you will feel refreshed and happy and you will not think about what happened here today at all.' He glanced up at Sam. 'Is her pulse normal now, Dr Franklyn?' he asked coldly. Sam stared at him. Then he took her hand, his fingers on her wrist. 'Absolutely normal, Professor,' he said formally. 'And her colour is returning.' 'We'll send her home now, then,' Cohen said. 'I don't want to risk any further trauma. You go with her and make sure she i all right. Her flatmate is a technician at the labs here, that's how we got her name for the tests. I'll ask her to keep an eye on things too, to make sure there are no after-effects, though I'm sure there won't be any.' Sam walked over to the window, staring out at the snow as 'he tried to control his anger. 'There could well be after-effects. Death is a fairly debilitating experience physically,' he said with quiet sar , casm. It was lost on Cohen, who shook his head. 'The lass won't remember a thing about it. We'll give her a couple of days to rest, then I'll have her back here.' His eyes gleamed with excitement behind the pebble lenses: 'Under more controlled conditions we'll take her back to the same personality in the period prior to her death.' He pursed his lips, took a handkerchiefout of his pocket and wiped his forehead with it. 'All right. Here we go. Joanna, do you hear me? One... two Joanna lay still, looking from one to the other, dazed. Then she smiled shakily. 'Sorry. Didn't hypnosis work on me? In my heart of hearts I thought it probably wouldn't.' She sat up and pushed back the rug, swinging her feet to the floor. Abruptly she stopped and put her hands to her head. Sam swallowed. 'You did fine. Every result is an interesting result to us, remember.' He forced him.elf to -mile, shuffling the papers on the table so that her notes were lost out of sight beneath the pile. The tape recorder caught his eye, the spools still turning, and he switched it off, unplugging it and coiling up the flex, not taking his eyes offher. She stood up with an effort, her face still very pale, looking suddenly rather lost. 'Don't I get a cup of tea or anything, like a blood donor?' she laughed. She sounded strained; her voice was hoarse. Cohen smiled. 'You do indeed. I think Dr Franldyn has it in mind to take you out to tea in style, my ear. It's all part of the service here. To encourage you to return.' He stood up and went over to the door, lifting her anorak down from the hook. 'We ask our volunteers to come to a second session, if they can, to establish the consistency of the results,' he said firmly. 'I see.' She looked doubtful as she slipped into the warm jacket and pulled the scarf around her neck. Groping in the pocket for her gloves she gave a sudden cy of pain. 'My hands] What's happened to them? There's blood on my scarf- there's blood everywhere!' Her voice rose in terror. Cohen did not blink. 'It must be the cold. You've been a naughty girl and not worn your gloves, that's nasty chapping.' 'But-' She looked confused. 'My hands weren't cold. I wore gloves. I don't even get chilblains. I don't understand o . .' Sam reached for his raincoat. He suddenly felt very sick. 'It's the heavy snow coming so soon on top of a warm spell,' he said as reassuringly as he could. 'I'll prescribe something for you if you like. But I suggest scones and cream and hot tea might be the best medicines to start with, don't you think?' He took her arm. 'Come on. My car is round the back.' As he closed the door of the room behind them he knew that he would personally see to it that she did not return. London: the present day 'Basically I like the idea.' Bet Gunning leaned across the table, her eyes, as they focused on Jo's face, intense behind the large square lenses of her glasses. 'Six articles exploring various fads which have swept the world showing man's fear and rejection of modern life and values. Shift That sounds pompous!' The eyes narrowed and gleamed suddenly. 'I'm fight in thinlrng that the usual Jo Clifford approach will be used? A ruthless appraisal, then a knife in the back?' Jo was watching her intently, admiring Bet's professionalism. The relaxed lunch at Wheeler's, the casual gossip - she had seemed only to glance at the typed notes Jo had pushed across the table but now, as she reeled offthe titles of the articles, she proved she had memorised and digested them. Bet had no need to refer back to the paper she had slipped into the enormous leather sack she toted everywhere on her shoulder. ' "Whole Food: Health or Nostalgia" - a bit old hat, lovie, if you don't mind my saying so. It's been bunked and debunked so often. Unless you've got a new approach?' Jo grinned. 'Trust me, Bet. OK the series in principle and I'll show you some outlines.' Bet looked at her sharply. Jo was wearing her innocent look, her grey-green eyes staring vaguely into the middle distance, her dark hair framing her face so that she looked disarmingly soft and feminine. Meeting her for the first time she had thought Jo might be an actress, or a model perhaps; Bt smiled inwardly. Were there any clues? The uncompro mitingly large man's Rolex watch perhaps? Their eyes met and both women smiled appreciatively. They had been friends for five years, ever since Bet had taken over as editor of I'omn in Action. Jo had been on the staff then, learning the trade of journalism. She learned fast. When she left to go freelance it was because she could name her figure for the articles she was producing. '"Anything Ethnic", "Medieval Medicine", "Cosmic Consciousness"-my God, what's that?- "Meditation and Religion"-you'll have to keep that light-' Bet was going through the list in her head. ' "Regression: Is history still live?" That's the reincarnation one, yes? I read an article about it somewhere quite recently. It was by an American woman, if I remember, and totally credulous. I must try and look it up. You will, of course, be approaching it from quite the opposite standpoint.' , Jo smiled. 'They tried it on me once, at university. That's what gave me the idea. The world authority on the subject, chael Cohen, tried to put me under - and failed. He gave me the creeps! The whole thing is rubbish.' ,. ', Bet gave a mock sigh. 'So another set of anodynes for the people bites the dust, already!' Her raised shoulders empha fised the sudden Jewish accent. Jo gave an unexpected gurgle. 'Am I that cruel?' /, 'You know dmn well you are. That's what we're paying you for! OK, Jo, show me the outlines. I'm thinking in terms .ofa New Year or spring slot so you've plenty of time. Now, what about illustrations? Are you fixed up or do you want them done in house?' 'I want Tim Heacham.' "You'll be lucky! He's booked solid these days. And he'd 'He'll do it for me.' Bet raised an eyebrow. 'Does he know that?' 'And what will Nick say?' iii Jo's face tightened for a moment. 'Nick Franklyn can go the a rtmnmg jump, Bet. 'I see. That bad?' 'That bad.' 'He's moved out?' 'He's moved out. With cream please.' Jo smiled up at the iter who had approached with the coffee pot. : Bet waited until he had withdrawn. 'Permanently?' 11 'That's right. I threw his camera across the room when I found out he'd been sleeping with Judy Curzon.' Bet laughed. 'You cow.' She sounded admiring. 'It was insured. But my nerves aren't. I'm not possessive, Bet, but he's not going to mess me about like that. Ifit's offit's off. I don't run a boarding-house. What do you think about the title of the series?' 'Nostalgia Dissected?' Bet looked up, her head a little to one side. 'Not bad. I'm not totally convinced, but it certainly puts the finger on your approach.' She beckoned to the waiter for the bill. 'Aren't you going to tell me any more about Nick?' Jo put down her coffee cup and pushed it away. She stared down at her hand, extending it over the table-cloth, fleshing her fingers as if amazed they still worked. 'It is three years, four months and eight days since I met Sam again and he introduced me to his brother. Doesn't that surprise you?' 'It surprises me that you counted, lovie,' Bet said, slightly acidly, tossing her American Express card down on the waiter's tray. 'I worked it out last night in the bath. It's too long, Bet. Too long to five in someone's pocket, however well one gets on. And, as you know, we don't all that often!' 'Bullshit. You're made for each other.' Jo picked up her coffee spoon and idly drew a cross in the surface of the sugar in the earthenware bowl in the centre of the table, watching the crystals impact and crumble with a concentrated frown. 'Perhaps that's it. We're so awfully alike in a lot of ways. And we are competitive. That's bad in a relationship.' She stood up, the drab ofive of her dress emphasising her tanned arms with their thin gold bangles as she unslung the canvas satchel from the back of the chair and swung it onto her shoulder. 'Tim. said he'd be at his studio this afternoon so I'm going up to see him now. Are you going straight back across the river?' "Frald so. I've a meeting at three.' Bet was tucking the credit card back in her wallet. 'I won't give you any good advice, Jo, because I know you won't listen, but don't hop .straight into bed with Tim out of revenge, will you. He's a nice guy. Too nice to be used.' .Jo smiled. 'I didn't hear that Miss Gunning. Besides I'm a I . race guy too, sometimes. Remember?' .. She walked slowly, threading her way through the crowded streets, the June sun shining relentlessly on the exposed pave i.:. menus. Here and there a restaurant had spilled umbrella shaded tables out onto the pavements, where people dawdled over their coffee. In England, she thought affectionately, the sun makes people smile; that was good. In a hot climate it !iI drove them to commit murder. She ran up the dark uncarpeted staircase to Tim's studio in an old warehouse off Long Acre and let herself in without knocking. The studio was deserted, the lines ofspous cold and dark as she walked in. She glanced round, wondering if Tim had forgotten, but he was there, alone, in shirtsleeves, i reclining on the velvet chaise-longue which was one of his , favourite photographic props. There was a can of Long Life in his hand. Above him the sun, freed from the usual heavy blinds, streamed through huge open skylights. 'Jo! How's life?' He managed to lever himself upright, a painfully thin an six foot four in his bare feet, with wispy fair hair. His unbuttoned shirt swung open, revealing a heavy silver chain i .on which hung an engraved amulet. 'Beer or coffee, sweetheart? I'm right out ofchampers.' ! Jo threw her bag on the floor and headed for the kitchenette next to one of the darkrooms. 'Coffee thanks. I'll make it. Are : you sober, Tim?' He raised his eyebrows, hurt. 'When am I not?' i 'Frequently. I've a job for you Six to be precise and I want to talk about them. Then we'll go and see Bet Gunning in a you agree.' i..'Ah, another great expos for Women in A!' He put the can i down with exaggerated care and placed his fist on his right 12 13 breast as though about to take an oath. 'TheLeithPolice DismissethUs!' There. Right first time. Hot a milligram over the limit. Fit to drive a beautiful lady reporter-person anywhere, any time. Reporting for duty, ma'am!' He grinned. 'Better give me coffee too, though, just in case. I've just been spurned by a little corker of a dolly. Old enough to be her father, she said I was.' He pulled a mournful face. Jo reappeared with two mugs of black Nescaf. 'How old are you, Tim?' 'Guess.' She put her head on one side. 'Pushing filly I'd say.' He groaned, clutching at his head. 'The bitch. She sees my soul and not my body. Actually I'm forty-two next Wednesday. You and Nick must come to my party. Ouch. What have I said?' He slumped once more onto the couch and held out his hand for the coffee. 'Not me and Hick.' She sat down beside him. 'Separately if you like, Together. Not.' 'Sorry. When did it happen?' 'A couple ofday ago, going on a Couple of year,. Forget it, Tim. It's not important. I want to talk bu-,ioe.' 'Alway, the hard worker, our Jo.' He glanced at her, completely attentive suddenly. 'OK. Fire. What do you want? A eries for IV I A you say. I it going to be colour or are we going for black and white?' She pulled a sheaf of notes from her bag and peeled a copy offfor him. 'Take a look at the subjects, just to give you an idea.' He read down the page slowly, nodding critically, as she sipped her coffee. 'Presumably it's the approach that's going to be new, sweetie? When's the deadline?' 'I've got montlm. There's quite a lot of research involved. Will you do them for me?' He glanced up at her, hi clear light green eyes interne. 'Of course. Some nice ones, some studio muff-whole food, and weaving - the vox loln in chiaroscuro. Great. I like this one specially. Reincarnation. I can photograph a suburban mum under hypnosis who thinks she's Cleopatra as she has an orgasm with Antony, only Antony will be missing.' He threw the notes to the floor and sipped his coffee thoughtfully. 'I saw someone being hypnotised a few months back, you know. It was weird. He was talking baby talk and crying all over his suit. Then they took him back to this so-called previous life and he spouted German, fluent as a native.' Jo's eyes narrowed. 'Faked, of course.' 'Uh-uh. I don't think so. The chap swore he'd never learned German at all, and there's no doubt he was speaking i fluently. Really fluently. I just wish there had been someone .there who knew anything about Germany in the 1880s, which :is when he said it was, who could have cross-questioned him. It was someone in the audience who spoke German to him. The hypnotist couldn't manage more than a few words of schoolboy stuff himlf.' Jo smiled gleefully. 'Do you think it'll make a good article?' 'More like a book, love. Don't be too ready to belittle it, will you. I personally ghink there's a lot in it. Do you want me to introduce you to Bill Walton? That's the hypnotist chap.' , Jo nodded. 'Please, Tim. I'm genned up on the subject from books and articles, but I certainly must sit in on a session or two. It's incredible that people really believe that it's regression into the past. It's not, you know.' She was "frowning at the wall in front of her where Tim had pinned a spread of huge black and white shots of a beautiful blonde nude in silhouette. 'Is that who I ghink it is?' He grinned. 'Who else? Like them?' 'Does her husband?' 'I'm sure he will It's the back lighting. Shows her hair and hides the tits. They really are a bit much in real life. I'd say he was the proverbial milch cow in a previous existence.' Jo looked back at him and laughed. 'OK Tim. You tell your !i: Mr Walton he's got to convince me. Right?' She got up to i! examine the photos. 'It's something called cryptomnesia. Memories that are completely buried and hidden. You'll 15 probably fred your ma, bad a German au pair when he was three months old. He's genuinely forgotten he ever heard her talk, but he learned all the same and his subconscious can be persuided to spit it all out. These are awfully good. You've made her look really beautiful.' 'That's what they pay me for, Jo.' He was watching her closely. 'I was talking to Judy Curzou last week. She has an hlbifiou at the Bcaufon Gallery, did you know?' 'I know.' She turned. 'So you know about it.' 'About you and Nick? I thought he was fooling about. I'm surprised you took it seriously.' She picked up her cup again andbegen to walk up and down. 'It's happened too often, Tim. And it's getting to hun too much.' She looked at him with a sinII grimace. Tm not going to let myself get that involved. I just can't afford to. When a man starts causing me to lose sleep I begin to resent him and that's not a good way to nurture a relationship. So better to cut him off qu/ckly.' She drew a finger across her. throat expressively. Tim hauled himIf to his feet. 'Ruthless lady. I'm glad I'm not one of your lovers.' He took her cup from her and carried it through to the kitchen. 'And you really can be grown up about it and not mind if I ask him and Judy to the party?' 'Not ill can bring someone too.' He turned from the sink where he had dumped the cups and spoons. 'Someone?' 'I'll think of someone.' 'Oh, that kind of someone. A spit-in-Nick's-eye someone.' He laughed. "Course you can.' He put his ha-nd on her shoulders and stared at her for a moment. 'It could always be me, you know, Jo.' She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. 'It couldn't, Tim. I like you too much.' He groaned. 'The most damning thing a woman can say to a man, a real castrating remark. "I like you too much," ' he mimicked her, his voice sliding up into an uncomfortable faltto. He burst out laughing. 'At least you didn't say I was too old, though. Now scram. I've got work to do. Consider yourlf on for the photos, but let me know when as soon as you lqick Franyn sat back on the low, cord sofa and stared at the irl's legs. They were long, crossed at the nkle; he could see where the stacked heel on her left shoe was scuffed. His eye tr'.lled upthe deIc and across the typewriter, to where her we, hidden by two curtains ofbloude hair, stared down at the work she was copying, her red painted nails clicking irritatingly on the keys as she worked. It was already three fifteen. phone on her desk buzzed and she picked it up, placing it . mtomatically between her shoulder and chin so she need not stop typing. i'ght Gnning.' She barely raised her eyea as she the receiver back onto its cradle. 'You can go in now,' iie said to Nick. .i'' 'Tlumks.' He levered hlmIf from the seat and strode to the door. :i. ..--Bet was standing at the window ofher office, staring down ii.the river eleven storeys below as she lit a cigarette. A i.i:e steamer was plodding up the centre of the tideway, crmin$ agirtt the f force of water as it plied Westminster Pier toward.the Tower. ;. What can I do for you, Nick?' She turned, drawing on the i icigarette, and looked him up and down. He was dressed in with a denim jacket, immaculately cut, which showed pare figure and tnned face. 'You're looking great, Bet. So much hard work you.' why the hell couldn't I see you three days ago editor ladies are obviously busy if they can't see guy who handles one of their largest advertising He sat down unasked opposite her desk and drew one foot to rest across his knee. She smiled. 'Don't give me that, Nick. You're not here about the Wonda account.' 'I'm not?' 'Jim Greerson's been handling that one.' Sheturned and pushed the window open further. Below on the river the boat hooted twice as it disappeared under Blackfriars Bridge. 'Unless you've sacked your best partner.' 'OK. So I've come to ask you a favour. As a friend.' She narrowed her eyes aga-int the glare off the water and said, without turning round, 'About?' She waited in silence, conscious of his gaze on her back. Then slowly she turned. He was watching her closely and he saw the guarded look in her eyes. 'Does Jo need any favours from me?' she asked. 'She's going m bring some ideas to you, Bet. I want you to kill one of them.' He saw the flash of anger in her face, swiftly hidden, as she sat down at her desk. Leaning forward sh/e glared at him. 'I think you'd better explain, Nick.' 'She's planning a series of articles which she's going to offer Women in Action. One of them is about hypnosis. I don't want her to write it.' 'And who the hell are you to say what she writes or doesn't write?' Bet's voice was dangerously quiet. She kept her eyes fixed on Nick's face. A muscle flickered slightly in his cheek. 'I care about her, Bet.' Bet stood up. 'Not from what I've been hearing. Your interests have veered to the artistic suddenly, the grapevine tells me, and that no longer qualifies you to interfere in Jo's life. If you ever had that right.' She stubbed out her cigarette half smoked. 'Sorry Nick. No deal. Why the hell should you want to stop the article anyway?' Nick rose to his feet. 'I have good reasons, Bet. I don't know who the hell has been talking to you about me, but just because I'm seeing someone else doesn't mean I no longer care about Jo.' He was pacing up and down the carpet. 'She's a bloody good journalist, Bet. She'll research the article thoroughly...' He paused, running his fingers through his thatch of fair holt. 'And why shouldn't she?' Bet sat on the comer of her desk, iwatching him intently. .... He reached the end of his trajectory across her carpet and, turning to face her, he leaned aist the wall, arms folded, hi face worried. 'iF i tell you, I'm betraying a coufulence.' 'If you don't tell me there's no way I'd ever consider trapping the article.' " He shrugged. 'You're a hard bitch, Bet. OK. But keep this finder your hat or you'll make it far worse for Jo. I happen to know that she is what is called a deep trance subject- that taeans ff she gets hypnotised herself she's likely to get into i leble. She volunteered in the lychology lab at university when she was a student. My brother Sam was doing a PhD lhee and witnessed it. They were researching regression as part of a medical programme. She completely .flipped. Jo doesn't know anything about it- they did that lmainess of"you won't remember when you wake up" on her, but Sam told me the professor in charge of the project had Itever seen such a dry-taCtic reaction. Only very few people are ..quite that susceptible. She nearly died, Bet.' i -, Bet picked up a pencil and began to chew the end of it, her eyes fixed on his face. 'Are you serious?' qqever more so.' 'But that's fantastic, Nick! Think of the article she'll "Christ, Bet!' Nick flung himself away from the wall and .i iiii:ed his fist on the desk in front of her. 'Can't you see, she it?' 'lqo I don't see. Jo's no fool, Nick. She won't take any risks. 'But she doesn't know.' His voice had risen angrily. 'I've it and she remembers nothing. Nothing. I've her I think it's dangerous to meddle with hypnosis IS 19 - which it is - but she laughs at me. Being her, if she thinks I'm against it she's keener to do it than ever. She thinks every t-hing I say is hokum. Please Bet. Just this once, take my word for it. When she brings the idea to you, squash it.' 'I'll flink about it.' Bet reached for another cigarette. 'Now if you'll forgive me I should be at a meeting downstairs.' She smiled at him sweetly. 'Did you know we were running a review of Judy Curzon's exhibition this week, by the way? She'll be pleased with it, I think. Pete Leveson wrote it so the publicity should be good.' He glared at her. 'It's a damn good exhibition.' He reached out for the doorknob. 'Bet -' 'I said I'd think about it Nick.' She sat gazing at the desk in front of her for several minutes after he had left. Then she reached down to the bag which lay on the carpet at her feet, and brought out Jo's sheaf of notes. The paragraph on hypnotic regression was right on top. Glancing through it she smiled. Then she put the notes into the top drawer of her desk and locked it. 2 Jo let herself into her flat she automatically stopped and kened. Then, throwing down her bag, she mined and closed door behind her, slipping the deadlock into place; she had really thought Nick might be there. went into the kitchen and plugged in the kettle. It was .only for those few minutes when she first came in that she him: the clutter that surrounded him of cast-off jack papers, half-smoked cigarettes and the endlessly playing o. She shook her head, reaching into the fridge for the ': coffee beans. 'No way Nicholas,' she said out loud. 'You just :. get out from under my skin!' On the table in the living room was a heap of books and lmpers. She pushed them aside-to make room for her coffee cup and went to throw open the tall French windows that led ento the balcony which overlooked Cornwall Gardens. The i :,cent of honeysuelde flooded the room from the plant, which over the stone balustrade. When the phone rang she actually jumped. : It was Tim Heacham. 'Jo? I've luted up for us to go and see my mate Bill Walton.' .... ',,. Tim, you're an angel. When and where?' She groped for pad and pencil. 'Six fifteen Thursday, at Church Road, Richmond. I'm ii/i oming with you and I'll bring my Brownie.' 'Thanks, I'll see you at your party first.' 'You and someone. OK Jo. Must go.' ,Tim always hurried on the phone. No time for or goodbyes. A broad strip ofsnnlight lay across the fawn carpet in front the window, bringing with it the sounds of the London the shouts of children playing the gardens, the grinding monotony of a cement mixer Reaching for her cup Jo subsided onto the carpet, stretching out her long legs in front of her as she flipped 21 through the address book she had taken from the table, and brought the phone down to rest on her knee as she dialled Pete Leveson's number. 'Pete? It's Jo.' 'Well, well.' The laconic voice on the other end of the wire feigned astonishment. 'And how is the beautiful Joanna?' 'Partnerless for a party. Do you want to come?' 'Whose?' 'Tim Heacham.' There was a pause on the other end of the line. 'I would be honoured ofc0urse. Do I gather that Nick is once more out of favour?' 'That's right.' Pete laughed. 'OK Jo. But let me take you out to dinner first. How is work going?' 'Interesting. Have you heard of a chap called Bill Walton, Pete?! Her glance had fallen to the notepad in front of her. 'I don't think so. Should I?' 'He hypnotises people and regresses them into their past lives.' She kept her voice carefully neutral. To her surprise he didn't laugh. 'Therapeutically or for fun?' 'Therapeutically?' she echoed incredulously. 'Don't tell me it's considered good for you!' She glanced across at the heap of books and articles which formed the basis of her researches. Half of them were still unread. 'As a matter of fact it is. Fascinating topic.' Pete's voice faded a moment as if'he had looked away from the phone, then it came back strongly. 'This is work I take it? I was just looking for a phone number. You remember David Simmons? His sister works for a hypnotherapist who uses regression techniques to cure people's phobias. I'll tell you about it if you're interested.' It was one thirty in the morning when the phone rang, the bell echoing through the empty studio. Judy Curzon sat up in bed with a start, her red hair tousled. 'Dear God, who is it at this hour?' Nick groaned and rolled over, reaching for her. 'Ignore it. R's a wrong number.' But she was already pulling herself out of bed. Standing up a yawn she snatched the sheet offhim and, wrapping it .round her, she fumbled her way to the lamp. 'It never is a ing number at this hour of the morning. I expect someone ;dead.' She pushed through the bedroom door and into the back, r, nning his fingers through his hair, listen He could hear the distant murmur of her voice. Then i 1here was silence. She appeared in the doorway. 'It's your I.xly brother from Edinburgh. He says you left a message for him to ring, however late.' i Nick groaned again. 'I spent most of yesterday trying to rew, h hi,,. Sorry, Judy.' :. ,: 'Sam? Where the hell have you been all day?' 'Out.' Sam's voice echoed down the receiver. 'I wasn't sure " here to reach you. When I couldn't get a reply at your fiat I ight I'd better try the abode of the latest belle. She did sound pleased to speak to me.' !'C, an you blame her?' Nick glanced at the bedroom door i: which stood ajar and wished he had closed it. 'Sam, can I :i: to you tomorrow from the office?' "'lqo chance. Sorry, Nick. If it's that important, talk now. flying to Basel at eight tomorrow - no, this morning. iF i .' He coughed loudly. :,:.: Nick swore under his breath. 'Hold on a minute, Sam.' He phone and padded across the floor. love, shall I close the door, then I won't disturb you.' in bed, lying hack on the pillow, the sheet drawn to her waist, her breasts bare. She smiled, trying to hide 'I'll fall asleep if you do.' grinned. 'I can always wake you.' He shut the door went back to the phone. Picking up the receiver again he qnietly. 'Sam? Can you hear me? It's about Jo. I need advice.' There was a chuckle from the other end. 'In bed with one 22 23 and in love with the other. I'd say you need my advice badly.' 'Shut up and listen. It's about this hypnosis business. She's set on writing an article on hypnotic regression. Of all things to pick out of the air. I'm pretty sure she means to try it again. What do I do?' There was a moment's silence. He heard Sam sigh. 'That's a tricky one, Nick. As I told you she is dangerously susceptible. Someone who reacts as violently as she does under hypnosis can be potentially in a lot of trouble in the hands of an inexperienced practitioner. In fact, in any hands. You really have to dissuade her.' 'She won't listen to me. Can I tell her what happened to her last time?' 'No. No, Nick, it's too risky. I could do it perhaps, but not you. Hell! I can't postpone this trip. Can you get her to wait until I get back? It's only a week, then I'll fly direct to London and have a chat with her about it. Stall her till then, OK?' 'Are you saying she'll go offher head or something if she's regreed again?' 'I'm just saying don't let her do it.' 'I'll try and stop her.' Nick grimaced to himlf. 'But you know Jo. One she gets the bit between her teeth...' 'Nick, it's important.' Sam's voice was very serious. 'I may be wrong, but I suspect that there is a whole volcano simmering away in her unconscious. I dcussed it with Michael Cohen dozens oftimes - he always wanted m get her back, you know, but I persuaded him in the end that it was too dangerous. The fact remains that her heart and breathing stopped - stopped, Nick. No, it is not just a case of going offher head as you put it. If that happened again and someone didn't know how to handle it - well, I don't have to spell it out, do I? It must not happen again. And just warning her is no good. If you were to tell her about it, cold, alter post-hypnotic suggestion that she forget the episode, she either won't believe you - that's the most likely or, and this is the risk, she may suffer some kind of trauma or relapse or fred she can't cope with the memory. Yon must make her wait, Nick, till I get there.' .:OK Sam. Thanks for the advice. I'll do my best. The she's not talking to me.' laughed. 'I'm not surprised when you're in another bed.' down the phone Nick went into the kitchen and lit under the kettle. A motorbike rmred up the street a lonely sound in the silence, and he shivered, keeping the friendly blue flame. . Why do you have to discuss Jo Clifford with your halfan hour in the middle of the night?' turned guiltily to see Judy, wearing a tightly belted standing in the doorway. , . 'Yes. Judy! Judy's bed. Judy's fiat. Judy's fucking phone!' Nick went to her and put his hands on her nothing to do with you - with us. It's just... groped for words. 'Sam's a doctor.' a psychiatrist.' She drew in her breath sharply. 'You is something wrong with Jo?' grinned as casually as he could. 'Not like that. Not notice, anyway. Look Judy. Sam is going to come a chat to her, that's all. Hell, he's known her for feen years- Sam introduced her to me in the fast She likes Sam and she trusts him. I had to talk to him he's going to Switzerland tomorrow. There is more to it than that. He's going to help her with an article i On.' iShe looked doubtful. 'What has this got to do with you, Except he's my brother and I'd like to think she still a friend.' Something in his expression made her bite back the sarcas retort which hovered in the air. 'Is that coffee you're ?' she asked lamely. She gave a small, lost smile. Nick resisted the impulse to take her in his arms. 'Sure, get some sleep. I've an early start at the office.' 24 25 At his desk the next morning Nick pressed the button on the phone. 'Jane? Get Jo Clifford for me at her flat.' He gnawed his thumbnail, staring down at the heap of papers on his desk. The intercom buzzed. 'sorry Nick. There's no reply.' 'D-mn. Thanks Jane. Can you keep trying every now and again?' He glanced at his watch. It was after nine and Sam was already on his way to Basel. Her fiat remained empty all day. At eight he drove to Judy's studio in Finborough Road. He knew it would cause trouble if he rang again from there but that could not be helped. He rang four times in the course of the evening and checked once with the exchange to see if her phone was out of order. Then, angry with her and himself, he gave up. Judy was sulking. She had grudgingly opened a can of soup which they shared in silence, then returned to her huge abstract canvas. The light was too poor to paint, but she studied it for a long time, her thin shoulders hunched defensively, refusing to look at him, He went to her and, putting his arms around her, cupped her small breasts in his hands. He kissed the hack ofher neck. 'You know why I'm trying to reach her, Judy.' She nodded without speaking. Then she turned and put her arms round his neck. 'I can't help it, Hick. I love you so much. I'm sorry.' He kissed her gently. 'You're a silly child, Judy. Now, come to bed and I'll tell you about a party we're going to next week.' He could not bring himself to say he loved her. Next morning she still had not told him whether she was prepared to go to the party. He was watching her as she stood before a large canvas, once more lost in thought, a slim, small red-haired figure dressed in a man's shirt and torn paint stained jeans. Her feet were bare, She turned away from it at last wiping her fingers on a rag. 'I really don't want to go. For one thing Jo will be there.' He frowned. 'It's important Judy. There will be other 26 people there too for God's sake. People with influence. You riced the exposure, love.' He grinned suddenly and moving ;! towards her took hold of her shirt, a hand on each lapel, drawing her towards him until she was pressed against his .chest. 'You need a lot of exposure Judy.' She stopped him as .... fingers began working at her buttons, and pulled away, ehaking her hir out ofher eyes. 'No Nick. Not now. I want to She padded across to the mantelpiece and picked up a i.ttewspaper cutting. 'Did you see this?' I. !-He took it from her, frowning. Then he laughed. 'But Judy that's great. Pete Leveson's colum, is publicity with a capital i P, You've arrived, kidl' He dropped a kiss on the tangle of She was staring down at the clipping in her hand, frowning. 'Did you ask him to write about me?' Hick was watching her with something like tenderness. His blue eyes narrowed quizzically, and he grinned. 'No one tells I .:Pete Leveson what to write. Many have tried. He's been offered bribes before, but it doesn't work. No. If you're there, there on your own merit.' She still looked unhappy. 'He was very close to Jo once wasn't he?' 'They went around together.' Nick agreed cautiously. SThey both worked for 1'I,4.' ,So she might have said something ' ' h " S mght but I hardly think it's likely under the circum 'i tances.' He turned and went to ,stare out of the large ii!:imcurtained window, onto a vista of fire escapes and back beyond long depressing gardens strung with wash 'Look Judy, do you mjd ffwe drop the subject? If you to work some more on that painting I'll clear out. I've got things to do back home.' She bit her lip, cursing herself silently for mentioning Jo's 'See you tonight maybe?' she said. 'I'll cook if you like.' at least was something Jo couldn't do, or so she had gathered from Hick's oblique remarks. He laughed. 'That's an offer you know I can't resist. OK. I'll be back around eight.' He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her an affectionate queeze. 'I'll bring us some wine.' He ran down the four frights of dingy stairs to the front door and pulled it open over the detritus of old leaflets and letters that habitually littered the bare floor behind it. He detested Judy's studio, the shabby rundown house with its dark stair-well that always melled of cooking and stale urine, the noisy dirty street where scraps of old paper drifted over the pavement and wrapped themselves around the area railings. Every time he lef his Porsche there he expected to find someone had stolen the wheels or carved their name across the gleaming bonnet. As he eased himself into the driving seat he was frowning. It irritated him that she was so attached to the studio. It made no sense now she was becoming succeasf. As he drew away from the kerb he glanced back up at the terrace of houses. Her dusty windows gleamed curtinless in the stm, the bottom half of the h throw up, the box of geraninml which he had wired to the sill for her a defiant splash ofcolour in the ,niformly drab facade. When he turned back to squint through the tinted windscreen he had already put her out of his mind. He was a relaxed driver, his elbow resting casually on the lowered glass of the window, his hand gentle on the wheel as he leaned forward to slot in a cassette while the car crawied along the Brompton Road then north up Gloucester Road. He frowned again as he drew up at the lights. Her phone still wasn't answering that morning. 'Get the hell out, Nick,' Jo had said. 'I'm my own woman. I don't belong to you. I just don't want to see you any more...' He drummed his fingers on the steering-wheel, undecided, and glanced at his watch. The empty parking meter outside her flat decided him. Swinging her latch keys he made for the pillared porch which supported her balcony, glancing up to see the window open wide beneath its curtain of honeysuckle as he let himself in. 'Jo?' As the flat door swung open he stuck his head round it nd looked in. 'Jo, are you there?' She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the typewriter on the low coffee table in front of her, dressed in jeans and a floppy turquoise sweater, her long dark hair caught back with ii | silk scarf. She did not appear to hear hlm, He studied her face for a moment, the slim arched brows, the dark lashes which hid her eyes as she looked down at the page before her, the high planes of the cheek-bones and the delicately shaped mouth set 6ffby the severe lines of the :: i - the face of a beautiful woman who would grow more beautiful as she grew older - and he found he was comparing it with Judy's girlish prettiness. He pushed the door shut hlnd him with a click. 'I'll have that key hack before you go,' she said without He slipped it into his breast pocket with a grin. 'You'll have to take it off me. Did you know your phone was out of et'der?' 'It's switched off. I'm .working.' 'That's bloody stupid. Supposing someone wanted you urgently.' He took a deep breath, trying to curb his sudden allger. 'Is there any coffee going while we talk, Jo?' Without waiting for an answer he walked throw, h to the kitchen. It was a mess, stacked with unwashed dishes and cans. He found the orange coffee pot full of cold grounds and with a grimace began to rinse it out in the sink. i!!'t's been going on here?' he called out over his shoulder. as you can plainly see,' she answered quietly. Soundlessly she had come to stand in the doorway behind 'I've been working, as I utid, so I haven't been the place is a shambles.' He rummaged in the fridge and brought out half a bottle of Sofids floated in the clear blue whey as he held it to the and he shuddered as he tipped it out. 'You obviously looking after, lady.' i. 'Don't I just.' She found two clean mugs in the back of the cupboard. 'We'll have to have it black. So. What have you come for?' 'To talk. To see how you are.' 'I am free. Busy. Unencumbered. Just the way I like it.' 'And starving?' She smiled. 'Are you offering to take me to lunch?' 'Nope.' The coffee made to his satisfaction he poured it out and, gathering up the two mugs, he led the way back to the liv, ing room. He put down the mugs and picked up the top book on the pile by her typewriter and glanced at the title. The Facts Behind Reincarnation. He frowned. 'Jo, I want to talk to you about your article.' 'Good. Discussing topics is always helpful.' Deliberately misunderstanding him 8he flopped down on the sofa cushions and reached out her hand for the mug. 'You know my views about this hypnotism bnsines,.' 'And you know mine.' She grinned at him her grey-green eyes mowing. 'So let's break new ground. Let's disctm my wholefood article. I've an interview freed up wtth Rose Elliot and another with the head chef at the Ritz, to fred out -' 'Jo, will you promise me not to let yourselfbe hypnotised.' She leaned forward and put down the mug. 'I'll promise you nothing Nick. Nothing at all.' 'I've a good reatzn for asking.' 'Yes. You think you can meddle in my life. Well you can't. I thought I had made that clear. I am not your concern.' 'Christ, Jot. Don't you know how dangerous hypnosis can be? You hear awful stories ofpeople perm2ntntly dm ged by playing with something they don't undertand.' 'I'm not playing, Nick,' she replied icily. 'Any more than you play at advertising.' He sat down opposite her, his blue eyes hard. 'Advertising doe, not interfere with your comcionsness -' 'That's a matter of opinion!' 'And neither,' he went on, ignoring her interruption, 'does it seek to work in your mind without your conscions knowledge.' 'Oh no?' She laughed. 'Oh Nick,don't be so naive. What is advertising but mind bending? You've read enough to qualify you three times over as a better your brother! But that's not the point. The point playing, on a series of articles. If a war correspondent I'd go to war. Ill fred my field of is hypnotism I get hypnotised. If necessary.' Furi r she got up and walked up and down the room a couple of 'But if it worries you .so much perhaps you'd be con if I tell you that I can't be hypnotised. Some people They tried it on me once at university.' sat up abruptly, his eyes on her face. 'Sam told me :.,bcut that time,' he said wit.h caution. I!!.'So why the hell do you keep on then?' She turned on ii. n. 'Ring up your brother and ask him all about it. Samuel i .tranklyn, M.D., D.P.M. He will spell it out for you.' 'Jo -' 'Go to hell Nick! Or take me to a pub. But don't mention it. anbject again, OK? .Nick groaned. 'You are a stubborn, stupid, blind fool, Jo.' ,She stared angrily at him for a moment. Then, uncxpec ':! ttdly, she grinned. 'I know. It's hell isn't it? Shall I get my , were walking along the river's edge after a pub lunch Strand on the Green Nick broached the subject again, They had stopped to |ook at the water as it sucked gurgled around the bows of a moored yacht and divided to around Oliver's Eyot. covertly as she stared at the water, mesmer by the glint of sunlight on the wet mud slicks, her eyes in the glare. 'Jo. Will you talk to Sam? There's you should know.' looked round and stared at him. "Nick, I thought I I'm warning you. You've got to listen, Jo. I'm not I'm not trying to wreck your career. Sam told me I 31 should never discuss this with you. But it's important and I hink you should talk m him, It's about that time in linburgh when you were hypnotised ' 'When I wasn't hypnotisedl' She turned and began walking briskly back towards Kew Bridge. 'Thnks for the lunch. Hick. It was nice, for old times' sake. How I suggest you get back m Judy. I'll get a bus home -' 'Don't be an idiot, Jo.' Almost running, he caught her up and took her arm as she made her way between the Saturday afternoon strollers. On the river behind them a coach yelled instmcfiom to a rowing eightthrough a megaphone. Neither of them heard him too engrossed in their furious antagonism. As they reached the car he forced her to get in and drove in tight-lipped silence till they drew up outside her fiat. Then he turned to her and put his hand on her wrist. 'Jo, Sam will be in London next week. Just hold on till then. Promise me. Once he's seell you ' 'Seen me?' she echoed. 'For God's sake, lqick. What's the matter with you? I need to see your brother about as much as I need you at the moment and that is not a Iotl' 'Jo, it's important,' he said desperately. 'There is something you don't know. Something you don't remember ' She turned on him. 'What do you mean I don't remember? I remember every bit of that session in Edinburgh. Better than Sam does obviously. Oh, I'm sure he doesn't want me to vtigate the subject of regression. It's one of his pet theories, isn't it, and he doesn't want me to debunk it in the press. That wouldn't suit him at all!' She groped furiously for her seat-belt release. 'Just leave me alone, lqick! If your brother wants to see me, let him come and see me. I'll deal with him myself. You and I have nothing else to say to each other. NothingS' She flung the car door open and climbed out. 'Goodbye Nick.' He watched, exasperated, as she ran up the steps, then he drove off without looking back. .... Closing the street door behind her she leaned against it for a moment, blinking hard. Then resolutely she began to climb stairs to her own front door. It was only when she reached top that she reli.-l that he still had her spare set of keys. Leveson, resplendent in a pink silk shirt and velvet picked Jo up on the following Wednesday soon after not talking to Nick?' he asked as he opened the car her. The-black Audi Quatro was double-parked out;her fiat. since Saturday.' She settled in and pulled seat-belt across her green silk dress. 'But I think we will Do you mind?' long as you don't actually me to hit him.' He into the traffic. don't have that sort of relationship, Pete. It's very Jo frowned. 'Anyway I do my own hitting when thank you.' I'd forgotten how liberated you are. I miss you ou know, Jo.' glanced at him sharply. Pete was a handsome man in and, though it was ten years since they had brief affair, they had mnn-ged to stay the best of did not look at her now, concentrating on the traffic as 'You promised to tell me the hypnotherapist, remember? Did you fred out his I did. Got your notebook in that sexy little purse He's a chap called Bennet. I've got his phone and address. He's got consulting rooms in Devon Place.' 'So he costs - and he's successful, yes?' it's tax deductible for you! I'm assuming this studios so I thought we might eat at that new place in Long Acre. It's still early, but ifwe're doing battle we may as well go in fortified.' He grinned again. 'We're not doing battle, Pete, so there'll be no fisticuffs, I told you. A di.t, nified silence is all I require.' She rested her arm along the back of his seat, studying his profile. 'If that bastard thinks I care at all he's got another think coming.' 'But you do.' He glanced at her. 'Poor old Jo.' 'Stuff.' She smiled. 'Now, where is it you're taking me for dinner?' The huge photographic studio was already full of people when they arrived. They paused for a moment on the threshold to survey the crowd, the women colourfully glittering, the men in shirt-sleeves, the noise already crescendoing wildly to drown the plaintive whine of a lone violin somewhere in the street below. Someone pressed g!a-es of champagne into their hands and they found themselves sucked inexorably into the huge hot room. Jo saw Nick almost at once, standing in front of Tim's photos, studying them with almost ostentatious care. She recognised the set of his shoulders, the angle of his head. So, he was angry. She wondered briefly who with, this time. 'You look wistful, Jo.' Tim Heacham's voice came from immediately behind her. 'And it does not suit you.' She turned to face him. 'Wistful? Never. Happy birthday Tim. I'm afraid I haven't brought you a present.' 'Who has?' He laughed. 'But I've got one for you. Judy's not here.' 'Should I care?' She noticed suddenly that Pete was at the other end of the room. 'I don't think you should.' He took the glass from her hand, sipped from it, and gave it back. 'You and Nick are bad news for each other at the moment, Jo. You told me so yourself.' 'And I haven't changed my mind.' 'Nor about tomorrow I hope?' 'Tomorrow?' ......... visit to Bill Walton. He's going to lay something us.' He shivered ostentatiously. 'We're going to and her Antony! I f'md it all just the smallest bit laughed. 'I hope you won't be disappointed this time, It'll only be as good as the imagination of the people you know.' up his hand in mock horror. 'No. No, you're not to it for me. I believe.' The quiet voice behind her made her jump, slopping wine onto the floor. 'Jo, I want to talk to you.' spun round and found that Nick was standing behind QuicHy she slipped her arm through Tim's. 'Nick. I expect to see you. Did you bring Judy? Or Sam? PerSam is here ready to psych me out. Is he?' Rudely she him. 'Tim, will you dance with me?' She dragged her surprised away, leaving Nick standing by himself looking after you,re shaking.' Tim put his arm round her and her against him. 'Come on. It's not like you to show t. You know Judy isn't here. Nor is Sam. So it all about, eh?' her eyes briefly and rested her forehead against chest. 'I know, I know, I know. I'm a fool. It's Sam. I've this weird feeling that I don't want to see him. Nick's been about this hypnotism business- we've already rowed it. It's all to do with Sam, who disapproves ofmy work has been trying to pressurise me through Nick into dropthe whole thing.' She pushed away from him and smiled effort. 'Do you think I'm neurotic?' grinned. 'Only in the nicest sort of way. Come on. - most of yours went on the floor, and rest is down my neck.' He took her hand firmly. Then he rueful face. 'You're in love with Nick you know, Jo. real thing.' laughed. 'No. No, Tim, you dear old-fashioued thing. 34 35 I'm not in love with anyone. I'm fancy free and fully available. But you are right about one thing, I need another drink.' There was no way she would ever admit to herself or to anyone else that she loved Nick. If she did then it was an observation which had to be stamped out. Behind her Tim glanced towards the door. He frowned. Judy Curzon stood there, dressed in a floor-length white dress embroidered with tiny flame and amber coloured beads, her red hair brushed close to her head like a shining cap. Her huge eyes were fixed on Nick's face. Tim shook his head slowly, then firmly he guided J0 into the most crowded part of the room. Tim locked the car the following evening, Jo stared up : front of the house. It was a tall, shabby building in the of a long terrace of once elegant Edwardian town the windows dark and somehow forbidding on this, ,,deeply shadowed side of the street. She turned her back on a shiver-and glanced down instead at the brightly lit in the basement of the house behind her. Through she could see a woman bustling round in the kitchen; cups out on a tray. The ordinariness of the action was Behind them the traffic sped down the hill, slowat the bottom for the traffic lights before dropping into about last night -' Tim was pocketing his car keys. to talk about it.' Jo hunched her shoulders. 'It ' for some. Now please forget it.' the way Judy behaved was appalling. How could she even thought of it!' jealous lady, Tim, fighting for a man. Women are that. Primeval!' you going to fight?' : Nick? No.' young women were climbing the hill towards them, arms linked. They were giggling, looking at the house and instinctively Jo knew they were heading for the address. She relaxed slightly. For them it had the same naughty, slightly frightening feeling as Jo had felt a seance when she was a student. She shivered. Was be a party game as she suspected or had Nick been Would the evening turn into something risky? Firmly .put Nick out of her mind. Whatever had been left between was over. ,,was aware suddenly that Tim was behind her. He was hope the one in the d'ollet red dress takes part,' see her in an orgasmic seizure!' 'Lech.' She grinned at him affectionately. 'I don't know where you get this idea that everyone has an orgasm the moment they are regressed. Has it crossed your mind that in a previous life she may have been a man with a stubby beard and BO?' 'Spoil-sport. She might have been a boy though. Look at that neat little derriere,t' They watched the two girls climb the flight of stone steps which spanned the basement area and ring the doorbell. A light came on behind the stained glass of the fanlight. The door opened and the two girls disappeared. Jo took Tim's arm. 'You shouldn't make comments like that, Mr Heacham. It could get you a reputation, you know,' she said, laughing. They waited side by side for a gap in the traffic before crossing the road then sprinted between a taxi and a Bedford van. 'Perhaps we'd better get you regressed. Find out what you were in a previous life.' 'No fear.' Tim stopped abruptly at the foot of the steps and took her hand. 'Jo, love. Can you bear in mind that this chap is a friend of a friend? Go easy on the putdowns.' 'I'm not going to put anyone down Tim.' She hitched her thumb through the strap of the bag on her shoulder. 'I'm going strictly as an observer. I shan't say a word. Promise.' The front door was opened by a woman in a long Laura Ashley dress, her fair hair caught hack in an untidy ponytail. She had a clipboard in her hand. 'Mr Heacham and Miss Clifford?' she confirmed. 'The others are all here. Follow me, please.' The dark hallway was carpeted wall to wall with a thick brown runner which muffled their footsteps as they followed her past several closed doors and up a flight of stairs to the first floor. There, in a large room, facing onto the long narrow gardens which backed the houses, they found Bill Walton and some dozen other people, already seated on a semicircle of upright chairs. Haiton held out his hand to them. 'How are you? As you requested, Tim, I've told everyone that a lady and gentleman of the press will be here. No one objects.' He was a small, wizened man of about fifty, his sandy hair standing out in wisps around his head. Jo looked apprehensively into his prominent green eyes as she shook hands. /i,. Somewhere outside children were playing in the evening ,/ gmlight. She could hear their excited shouting and the dull ............. as a foot connected with a ball. In the room there was a ilmted expectant silence. She could see the two girls seated : de by side at the end of the row. Both now looked distinctly frightened. Next to them a man in a roll-necked sweater whis to his companion and laughed quietly. room was a study - a large, comfortable untidy room, wall one end lined with books, the opposite one hung with ' It,group of Japanese prints mounted on broad strips of fawn :: linen. Jo took her place on one of the remaining chairs whilst ":!,im slipped unobtrusively behind her, perching on the arms i :ffa chair by the rite, removing the lens cap from his camera :.,., putting it quietly down on the seat beside him. :ii. Walton moved to the windows and half drew the curtains, :iamtg out the soft golden glow of the evening. Then he ,witched on a desk lamp. He grinned at the small audience before him. : .:,. 'Ladies and gentlemen, first let me welcome you all. I hope =:!,:Fott are going to find this evening instructive and entertain Let me say at the outset that there is nothing whatsoever afraid of. No one can be hypnotised who does not wish glanced at Jo as, quietly, she slipped a notebook out of bag. She rested it, still shut, on her knee. 'My usual is to mke a few simple tests initially to f'md out mary of you are good hypnotic subjects, then from who seean to be suitable I shall ask for volun be put into deep hypnosis and regressed if poible. I emphasise that it doos not always happen, and there been occasions when I have found no one at all suitable my audience.' He laughed happily. 'That is why I have a dozen or so people present: It gives us a better shifted uncomfortably on the wooden chair and crossed her legs. Beside her the others were all staring at him half hypnotised already, she suspected, by the quiet smoothness of his voice. 'Now,' he continued, hitching blmself up onto the desk so that he was sitting facing them, his legs swinging loosely, crossed at the ankle. 'Perhaps you would all look at my f'mger.' He raised it slowly until it was level with is eyes. 'Now, as I raise my hand you will fred that your own right hand rises into the air of its own accord.' Jo felt her fingers close convulsively around her pencil. Her hands mined f'mly in her lap. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the hand of the man next to her as it twitched slightly and moved, then it too fell back onto his knee. She noticed his Adam's apple jump sharply as he swallowed. She looked back at Walton who was watching them all with apparent lack of interest. 'Fine. How I want you all to sit back and relax against the back of your chairs. Perhaps you would fix your eyes on the light behind me here on the desk. The fight is bright and hard on the eyes. Perhaps if you were to cloe your eyes for a few moments and rest them.' His voice hadtaken on a monotonous gentle tone which soothed the ears. 'Fine, now it may be that when you try to open them you will fred that you can't. Your rids are sealed. The light is too bright to look at. The darkness is preferable.' Jo could feel the nails of her hands biting into her palms. She leaned forward and stared down the line of seated people. Two were blinking at the light almost defiantly. The others all sat quietly, their eyes closed. Walton was smiling. Quietly he stood up and padded forward over the thick carpet. 'Now I am going to touch your hands, one by one, and when I pick them up you will fred that you c-nnot put them down.' HIS voice had taken on a peremptory tone of command. He approached the man next to Jo, ignoring her completely. The man's eyes were open and he watched almost frightened as Walton caught his wrist and lifted the limp hand. He let go and to Jo's surprise the arm stayed where it was, uncomfortably suspended in mid air. Walton made no comment. He passed on to the next person in line. Behind her Jo heard the faint click of the camera moment later it was all over. Gently, almost casually, spoke over his shoulder as he returned to his desk. ladies and gentlemen. Thank you. You may lower your open your eyes. And may I suggest that we all have coffee at this stage while we consider what is going to licked her lips nervously. Her mouth had gone dry as she the man next to her. HIS hand had returned to his lap, completely naturally, without any effort part, as far as she could see. She glanced over '.d|oulder at Tim. He winked and gave a thumbs up sign. he subsided into his chair. As if at a signal the door opened behind them and the young woman reappeared trolley on which sat two large earthenware coffee Unobtrusively she moved up the llne of chairs, never nor raising her eyes to meet those of anyone in the and found herself wondering suddenly was to stop herself from laughing at their solemn When they had all had their coffee Walton sat down once He was looking preoccupied as he stirred the cup , before hm on the desk. Only when the woman had lef the , did he speak. I elbow, I m glad to say that several of you tonight have demonstrated that you are susceptible to hypnosis. What I to do is to ask if any one of those people would like to to come and sit over here,' he indicated a deep the desk. 'Bring your coffee with you of discuss what is going to happen.' It was several mnutes before anyone could be prevailed to move but at last one stout, middle-aged woman rose her feet. She looked flustered and clutched her cup tightly she approached the chair and perched on the edge of it. Walton rose from his desk. 'It's Mrs Potter isn't it? Sarah i Potter. Now, my dear, please make yourseifcomfortable.' His 41 voice had dropped once more and Jo again found herself sitting upright, consciously resisting the beguilement of the mn's tone as she watched the woman lean back and close her eyes. Walton gently took the cup from her and without any preliminary comments began to talk her back into her childhood. After only a slight hesitancy she began to answer him, describing scenes from her early schooldays and they could all plainly hear the change in the quality of her voice as it rose and thinned girlishly. Tim stood up and, creeping forward, dropped on one knee before the worn with his camera raised. Walton ignored him. 'qOw, my dear, we are going back to the time before you were born. Tell me what you see.' There was a long silence. 'Back, further back into the time before you were little Sarah Fairly. Before, long before. You were on this earth before, Sarah. Tell me who you were.' 'Betsy.' The world came out slowly, puzzled, half hesitaring, and Jo heard a sharp intake of breath from the people around her. She gripped the notepad on her knee and watched the woman's face intently. 'Betsy who?' Walton did not take his eyes from her face. 'Ehmno. Just Betsy...' 'You were lucky this evening.' Walton looked from Jo to Tim and back with a grin. 'Here, let me offer you a drink.' The others had gone, leaving Tim packing his cameras and Jo still sitting on her wooden chair, lost in thought. 'Three subjects who all produced more or less convincing past lives. That's not bad.' Jo looked up sharply. 'More or less convincing? Are you saying you don't believe in this yourself?' She saw Tim frown but Walton merely shrugged. He had poured three glasses of Scotch and he hnded her one. 'I am saying, as would any colleague, Miss Clifford, that the hypnosis is genuine. The response of the subject is genuine, in that it is not prompted by me, but where the personalities come from I have no idea. It is the people who come to these sessions who like to think they are reincarnated souls.' His eyes twinkled roguishly. Tim set his camera case on a chair and picked up his own glass. 'It really is most intriguing. That Betsy woman. A middie-aged housewife of unqualified boringness and she produces all those glorious words out of the gutter! I help wondering if that was merely her repressed self get out.' He chortled. Walton nodded. 'I find myself wondering that frequently. 'But there are occasions - and these are the ones of course you as reporters should witness - when the character out with stuff which they could in no way have pre consciously or unconsciously. I have had people speak have never learned and revealing historical which is unimpeachable.' He shook his head. 'Very, t interesting.' had stood up at last. She went to stand by the bookcase, frowning .slightly. Walton watched her. you know, Miss Clifford, that you are potentially a hypnotic subject yourself?' She swung round. The? Oh no. After all, none of your tests on me.' 'No. Because you fought them. Did it not cross your mind that you had to resist so strenuously might mean I was watching you carefully and I suspect you probably one of the most susceptible people here stared at him. She felt suddenly cold in spite of the of the room. 'I don't think so. Someone tried to me once, at university. It didn't work.' She looked into her glass, suddenly silent, aware that was still watching her closely. He shook his head. 'You surprise me. Perhaps the person an experienced hypnotist. Although, of course, ffyou as you did today, no one could ' 'Oh, but I didn't resist them. I wanted it to happen.' She suddenly the excitement and awe she had felt on r to Professor Cohen's rooms, the abandon with which she had thrown herself into answering all his questionsbefore the session started, the calm relaxation as she lay back on his couch watching Sam standing in the comer fighting with his notepad whilst outside the snow had started to fall... She frowned. How strange that the details of that afternoon had slipped her mind until this moment. She could picture Sam now- he had been wearing a brown roll-neck sweater under a deplorably baggy sports jacket. When they had been introduced she had liked him at once. His calm relaxed manner had counteracted Cohen's stiff academic formafity, putting her at ease. She had trusted Sam. So why now did she have this sudden image of his tense face, his eyes wide with horror, peering at her out of the darkness, and with it the memory of pain... . She shrugged off a little shiver, sipping from her glass as she glanced back at Walton. 'It was about feen years ago now - I've probably forgotten most of what happened.' He nodded slowly without taking his eyes from her face. Then he turned away. 'Well, it might be nteresting to try again,' he said thoughtfully. 'Would you like to?' 'lqo!' she answered more sharply than she intended. 'At least, not yet. Perhaps when my research is a bit further advanced...' Warning bells were ringing in her mind; Sam's face was there again before her eyes, and with it she heard Hick's voice: 'There is something you don't know, something you don't remember...' Shakily she put down her glas, aware of Tim's puzzled eyes upon her. Furiously she tried to get a grip on herself as she realised suddenly that Bill Walton was adiressing her whilst he straightened some papers on his desk. 'And were you pleased overall with what you saw this evening, Miss Clifford?' She swallowed hard. 'It was fascinating. Very interesting.' 'But I suspect that you are going to debunk the reincarnation theory in your articles? My wife is a great fan of yours and she tells me your style of journalism can be quite sharp.' Jo grimaced. 'She's right. If she told you that it's very brave of you to be so open with me.' 'Why not? I've nothing to hide. As I told you, the hypnotism is real. The responses are real. I do not seek to explain them. Perhaps you will be able to do that.' He grinned. Jo found herself smiling back. 'I doubt it,' she said as she picked up her bag, 'but I dare say I'll give it a try.' painting with a palette knife, laying on a thick impasto of 'Why did you do it, Judy?' Nick pushed open the door of the studio and slammed it against the wall. She was standing in front of the easel, once more dressed in her shirt and jeans, a brush in her hand. She did not turn round. 'You know why. How come it's taken you nineteen hours m come round and ask?' 'Because, Judy, I have been at work today, and because I wasn't sure if I was going to come round here ever again. I didn't realise you were such a bitch.' 'Born and bred.' She gave him a cold smile. 'So now you know. I suppose you hate me.' Her face crumpled suddenly and she flung down the brush. 'Oh Nick, I'm so miserable.' 'And so you should be. Telli-ng Jo in front of all those people what Sam and I had talked about m confidence. Telling her at all was spiteful, but to do it like that, at a party - that was really vicious.' 'She didn't turn a hair, Nick. She's so confident, so conceited. And she didn't believe it anyway. No one did. They all thought it was just me being bitchy.' She put her arms around his neck and nuzzled him, 'Don't be angry. Please.' He disengaged hirn.elf. 'I am angry. Very angry indeed.' 'And I suppose you followed her last night?' Her voice was trembling slightly. 'No. She told me to go to hell as you well know.' He turned away from her, taking offhis jacket and throwing it down on a chair. 'Is there anything to drink?' 'You know damn well there is.' She retrieved her paintbrush angrily and went back to her painting. 'And get me one.' He glared at her. 'The perfect hostess as ever.' 'Better than Jo anyway!' she flashed back. She iabbed at the 'Leave J0 alone, Judy,' Nick said quietly. 'I'm not going to you again. You are beginning to bore me.' a long silence. Defiantly she laid on some more sighed. He turned and were into the kitchen. There wine in the refrigerator. He took it out and found two He had not told Judy the truth. Last night, at mid had gone to Cornwall Gardens and, finding Jo's flat darkness, had cautiously let himself in. He had listened, realising that there was still a light on in the kitchen, he the door. The room had been empty, draining board piled high with clean, rinsed dishes, the the lids on all the iars, and the bread in the bin, new and crusty. -' /hat are you doing here?' Jo had appeared behind him white bathrobe. :He had slammed down the lid of the bread bin. 'Jo, I had to you -' Nick, there is nothing to talk about.' She had not :at her he had realised suddenly that he wanted to her inhis arms. 'Oh Jo, love. I'm sorry -' 'So am I, Nick. Very. Is it true what Judy said? Am I likely offmy head?' YThat's not what she said, Jo.' Sam said?' you know it isn't. All he said was that you should , careful.' He had kept his veice deliberately light. Judy knows so much about it? Did you discuss 'Ofcourse I didn't. She listened to a private phone call. She no business to. And she didn't hear we. much, I promise. made a lot of it up.' 'But you had no business to make that call, Nick.' Suddenly had been blazing angry with him. 'Christ! I wish you 47 would keep out of my affairs. I don't want you to meddle. I don't want your brother to meddle! I don't want anything to do with either of the Franyns ever again. Now, get out!' 'No, Jo. Not till I know you're all right.' 'I'm all right. Now, get out.' Her voice had been shaking. 'Get out, get out, get out!' 'Jo, for God's sake be quiet.' Nick had hacked away from her as her voice rose. 'I'm going. But please promise me something -' 'Get out/' He had gone. Nick took a couple ofgulps from his glass and topped it up again before going back into the studio. Pete Levesou was standing next to Judy, staring at the canvas. Nick groaned as Pete raised a hand. 'I thought I'd fred you here. Has anyone told you yet that you are five kinds ofshit?' Nick handed him one of the glasses. 'You can't call me anything I haven't called myself already,' he, said dryly. Judy whirled round. 'All.right, you guys. Stop being so bloody patrouising. I'm the one who said it all, I'm the one who told her, not Nick. If you've come here to reproach anyone, it dmuld be me, not him' She put her hands on her hips defiantly. Pete gave e smail grin. 'Right. It was you.' 'Was Jo very upset later?' she was unable to resist asking after a moment. 'A little. Of course she was. She didn't believe anything you said, but you chose a pretty pubfic place to make some very provocative statements.' 'No one heard them -' 'Judy.' Pete gave her a withering look. 'You were heard by virtually every person in that party, including Nigel Dempster. I've been on the phone to him, but unfortunately he feels it was too juicy a titbit to miss his column. After all he's got a job to do much like mine when you think about it. "Well-known columnist accused of being a nutter by blonde painter at Heacham party..." How could he resist a story .like that? And he was there in person! It'll be in Friday's Mail.' 'Hell!' Nick hit his forehead with the flat of his hand. crucify Jo. She's trodden on too many toes in her 'She'll be OK,' Judy broke in. 'She's tough.' 'She's not half as tough as she makes out,' Nick replied slowly. 'Underneath she's very vulnerable.' Judy looked away. 'And I'm not, I suppose?' 'We are not talking about you, Judy. It is not your sanity is going to be questioned in the press.' 'She can always sue them.' 'If she sues anyone, it would be you. For defamation or .. flander. And it would serve you right.' Judy blanched. Without a word she took the glass out of hand and walked with it to the far end of the studio she stood looking out of the window to the bare earth lines of the garden below. Pete frowned. 'Just how much truth is there in any of this ory?' he asked in a low voice. .., 'None at all. Judy misunderstood completely.' Nick com his lips angrily. 'Squash the story if you can, Pete. It's anyway, but if it wasn't -' he paused fractionally, - if it wasn't, think how much damage it could do.' Pete nodded. 'I had a reason for asking. You are sure that hurt her in any way?' not.' Nick gave an uncomfortable little laugh. sharply. 'Why do you ask?' 'No reason. No reason at all...' drove straight to Cornwall Gardens from Judy's studio. seven and almostcertainly Jo would be at home. of the news he must break: probably the story in next morning's Mail Diary. He leaned his fore against the steering wheel for a moment as he paused at lights in Brompton Road. If Nick preferred that red 49 haired cow to Jo it was he who needed his head examining. And soon. He backed the car into a parking space in three fluid movements and climbed out, stretched his long legs for a moment, then sprinted across the road. There was no answer. He tried again, louder, but still the flat was silent. Cursing quietly to himself he felt in his pocket for a pen and, tearing a page from the back of his diary, he scribbled a note and put it through her door. 'Come on, Jo. There's something wrong, isn't there?' Tim put a double Scotch on the table in front of her and sat himself down in the chair facing her. Jo smmoned up a tired smile. 'I'm exhaasted, Tim, that's all. This'll put me right.' She picked up her glass. 'Tha.nks for arranging everything this evening.' 'But Walton worried you, didn't he, and not just because you thought he was a fake.' She shook her head slowly. 'He wasn't afake. At least, I don't think so. A telepath perhaps - I don't&now -' She was silent for a minute. 'Yes, he did worry me, Tim. The stupid thing is I don't know why. But it's something deep inside me. Something I can't put my finger on, floating at the edge of my mind. Every minute I think I'm going to remember what it is, but I can't quite catch it.' She took a sip from her glass and grinned suddenly, her face animated 'Makes me sound pretty neurotic, doesn't it? No Tim, I'm OK. I think I've been letting Nick get to me more than I realise, with his fearsome warnings. He's a bit paranoid about hypnosis. He told me once that he has this fear of losing consciousness - even on the edge of ordinary sleep. I think he thinks hypnosis is the same - like an ,anaesthetic.' 'And it is true he's been on to his trick-cyclist brother about you?' Tim asked gently after a pause. She drew a ring on the table with her finger in some spilled beer. 'I could kill Judy.' She looked up at him again and gave a rueful grimace. 'I wouldn't be surprised if what she said was true. Nick told me he'd been in touch with Sam.' 'You knew Sam well of course.' She nodded. 'He became a friend after-' she hesitated. they tried to hypnotise me, he and his boss, in that first time. But we were never lovers or any defoudre came with hi kid brother.' raised an eyebrow. 'And the foudre has not yet run to has it?' .'Oh yes. After last night it has. Fnihed. Caput. Finis. Bye Nicholas.' She bit her lip hard. over, Tim touched her hand lightly. 'Poor Jo. another drink.' He stood up and picked up her glass ', for her reply. watched him work his way to the bar, his tall, lanky moving easily between the crowded drinkers. She Tim reminded her of someone she had known when was a child, but she could not quite remember who. she had liked. She gave a rueful grin. Was that why could never love him held out her bend for her glass as he returned. 'I've thought of who it is you remind me.' She gave a quick of laughter. 'It's not someone from one of my previous It's my Uncle James's Afohn hound. His name was poured him.elf another whisky as soon as he got in. He dropped Jo offat her flat, declining her offer of a coffee. himlfdown in one of his low-sprung easy chairs, ; reached for the phone. 'Hi, Nick. Can you talk?' He shilied the receiver to his other hand and picked up his 'Listen, have you seen Pete Leveson?' 'He was here earlier.' Nick sounded cautious. "Did he manage to call offthe press?' 'Apparently not. Have you warned Jo?' Tim took a long drink from his glass. 'I was hoping I to. Shit, il'he can't do it no one can. And I don't ealise anyone else heard at all. As far asshe was concerned here were only two people in that room at that moment - udy and herself. I hope that doily of yours is really proud of amelf. Listen, Nick, what is this about Jo and hypnotism? Is t serious?' 'Yes. It's serious. So ffyou've any influence with her, keep er away from it.' 'We went to see a hypnotist tonight.' 'Christ!' 'No, no. Not for Jo. Or at least only for her to watch other ople being regressed. It was fascinating, but the fact is that Iodid behave a bit oddiy. She didn't seem to be the least bit atsceptible herself when he did his tests on everyone at the but afterwards Walton said she was really, but she md been fighting it, and it upset her.' 'It would.' Nick's voice was grim. 'Look, Tim, is she going :o see him aglfin? Or anyone else, do you know?' 'I don't think so. She did say that maybe she'd got enough amterial to be going on with.' . 'Thank God. Just pray she doesn't feel she needs to pursue my ofthis further. Sorry Tim. Judy's just coming in. I've got o go.' His voice had dropped suddenly to a whisper. Tim grinned as he hung up. The henpecked Lothario role id not suit Nick Franklyn one bit. . wanted to ring Sam. For hours she had lain tossing and turning, thinking about I Walton and Sarah Potter who had once been a street girl Betsy; and about Tim and Judy Curzon; but her mind to focus. Instead again and again she saw images of little Edinburgh study, with the huge antiquated against which Sam had leaned, then the snow, past the wiadow, blotting out the sky, then her Somehow her ha-rids had been hurt; she remembered fingers, blistered and bleeding and Michael Cohen, his and embarrassed talking about chilblains and sud with startling clarity she remembered the bloodstains the floor. How had the blood, her blood, come to be the floor of his study? sat up abruptly, her body pouring with sweat, staring the half-drawn curtains of her bedroom. The sheets were and her pillow had fallen to the floor. Outside she faint light of dawn beginning to lighten the Somewhere a bird had begun to sing, its whistle echoing between the tall houses. With her head aching got up and staggered to the kitchen, turning on the light round; automatically she reached for the kettle. s number in her old address book. Carrying ofblack coffee through to the sitting room she sat on the phone. It was four thiry-two am as she She let the phone ring for five minutes before she gave up. then did she remember that Sam had gone abroad. She slowly, then she rang Nick's fiat. There was from his phone either and she slammed down the ::'Goddamn you, Nick Frankiyn!' she swore under her She stood up and went to throw back the urta-ins, 53 -hink Jo has a clue what is in store for her. She doesn't seem to staring out over the sleeping square. On the coffee table behind her lay a scrap of paper. On it was written in Pete Leveson's neat italic script: Dr Carl Bennet, hypnotherapist. (Secretary Sarah Simmons: sister of Dazed who you rather fancied if I remember when he came to W I A as a features writer in "70.) Hae made an appointment for you Friday, three pm to sit in on a session. Don't miss it; I had to grovel to fix it for you. Jo turned and picked up the piece of paper yet again. She did not want to go. It was two forty-five as she walked slowly up Devonshire Place peering at the numbers and stopping at last outside one with a cream front door. Four brass plates were displayed on the elegantly washed panelling. The door was opened by a white-coated receptionist; 'Dr Bennet?' she said in response to Jo's enquiry. 'Just one minute and I'll ring upstairs.' The place smelled of antiseptic and stephanotis. Jo waited in the hall, staring at herself in a huge gilt-framed mirror. Her eyes were shadoyed from lack of sleep and she could see the strain in her face as she watched the woman on the telephone in the reflection behind her. 'You can go up, Miss Clifford,' the woman said after a moment. 'The first floor. His secretary will meet you.' Jo walked up slowly, aware of a figure waiting for her on the halflanding at the head of the fright ofstairs. Sarah Simmons was a tall fair-haired woman in a sweater and shirt and Jo found herself sighing with relief. She had been afraid of another white coat. 'Jo Clifford?' Sarah extended her hand with a pleasant smile. 'Pete Leveson spoke to us about you. It's a pleasure to meet you.' Jo grinned. 'Did he warn you I'm the world's most violent sceptic?' She laughed. 'He did, but Carl is very tolerant. Come and meet him.' Carl Bennet was sitting at a desk in a room which looked out over the street. It was a pleasant book-lined study, fur nished with several deep armchairs and a sofa, all with dis i the fitted carpet was scattered .with Afghan rugs- sufficiently worn to emphasise their .antiquity. It was a comfortable room; a man's room, Jo thought with sudden amusement, the sort of room which smell of cigars. It didn't. There was only the faintest snspicion ofcologne. Carl Bermet rose to greet her with a half-hesitant smile. Clifford. Please, come and sit down. Sarah will bring us some coffee - unless you would prefer tea?' He spoke with a mid-European accent. He nodded at Sarah disappeared through a door in the far wall, then he looked back at Jo. 'I find my kitchen is the most important of my office here,' he said gently. 'How tell me, exactly can I help you?' took out her notebook and, balancing it on her knee, sat lown on one of the chairs. It was half turned with its back to i the window. Her mouth had gone suddenly dry. 'As I believe Pete Leveson told you, I am writing an article on hypnotic regression. I should like to ask you about it and .ff possible see how you work.' She was watching his face iiintently. 'Yesterday I. attended a session with Bill Walton in . Richmond. I wonder whether you know him?' Bennet frowned. 'I've heard of him of course -' 'And you don't approve?' 'On the contrary. He has published some interesting But we practise in very different ways.' 'Can you tell me how your approach differs?' Jo kept her on his face as Sarah came in with a tray. 'Of come. Mr Walton is an amateur, Miss Clifford. He does not, I believe, ever claim medical benefits from his work. I am a psychologist and I use this form of hypnosis in the .treatment of specific conditions. I use it primarily in a medical context, and as such it is not somethitg to be debunked by cheap journalism. If that is what you have in mind, then I ask you to leave now.' Jo flushed angrily. 'I feel sure, Dr Bennet, that you will 55 lfimself. 'h would not entirely surprise me ifshe did not turn up.' He picked up the file on his desk and turned back the cover. Jo felt a sharp stab of disappointment. 'Are people usually apprehensive about your treatment?' she asked after a moment's pause. He looked at her thoughtfidly. 'It would be strange if they were not.' Sarah appeared in the doorway. 'Sorry, Carl, she's not coming She says her daughter is ill and she has to go to see her. I told her she'd have to pay for the appointment anyway -' Bennet gave a sharp gesture of dismissal. He stood up abruptly. 'I am sorry, Miss Clifford. I was looking forward to proving my case to you. I am afraid this visit has wasted your tithe.' necessarily surely.' Sarah had picked up the folder on the'dek. 'Have you ever considered undergoing hypnotic Joanna? After all, Carl now has an after - at your disposal.' 'I suppose I should try it nyself,' she said t think I could be regressed Dr Bennet?' [his fingers in the air and-shrugged. 'We could try. ; personality tend to make good subjects, but of allow themselves to be hypnotised. No one you know. If you are prepared to set I would be prepared to try.' speak of.' She managed a little smile. " Of such are my columns made, but phobias, it merely as an interesting experi rather fast. The pslm. of her 'I'm afraid I would be a difrtcult subject .asIe-no I did take part in a survey at Cohen. He didn't manage to get edge of the desk and looked at her one of the great authorities on the subject. I wish I had met him before he died,' he said a Me wistfully. 'I'm surprised to fred you so hostile to the behind hypnotic regression if you were involved in of his clinical trials. When you say nothing happened, do mean he was not able to regress you at all?' Jo shook her head. 'He couldn't hypnotise me. I didn't I didn't fight it. I wanted it to happen.' were ringing in her mind once more, full of warning. panic she turned away from him, not wanting him the struggle going on inside her, and crossed the carpet look out of the window into the busy street below, shivering spite of the humid warmth of the afternoon. The sun was on a window opposite, dazzling as she stared at it. turned back to Bennet. 'I have a small tape recorder in my bag. Would you object if used it while you try?' He shook his head and gestured towards a table by the far 'As you see, I use one too, for various reasons. I also insist that Miss Simmons is present to act as a chaper should explain, however, that often preliminary session to establish a rapport between and patient. It is a far more delicate relationship implied by music hall acts on the pier or sensational So you should not expect too much on this occasion.' suddenly. 'Or too little either, Miss Clifford. You indeed be a hard subject- I'm sure with your co though, I can achieve something. And I have a would be an interesting case.' He smiled boyishly. you into this still have any reservations. I think you should take a Jo surprised herself with the vchenence of her reply. . let's do it. I'd like to.' 'You are quite sure?' her bag and pulled the recorder out 'What shall I do?' He walked towards the window and half pulled one of the 59 curtains across, shading the room. Above the roof of the oppo site building a huge purple cloud had appeared, threatening the sun. He glanced at it as he went back to ]o. 'Just relax. You are very tense, my dear. Why don't we have a cup of tea or some more coffee perhaps whilst we talk about what is to happen.' Jo shook her head. 'I'll be OK. I suppose it's natural to want to resist giving your mind to someone else.' She bh her lip. 'Can I just ask you to promise one thing? If anything happens, you'll do nothing to stop me remembering it later. That's important.' 'Of course. It will all in any case be on tape.' He watched as she set the tape recorder on the floor next to his couch. 'Shall I lie down.>' she asked, eyeing it nervously. 'If you wish. Wherever you feel most comfortable and relaxe&' He glanced at Sarah, who had quietly seated herself" at the table in the corner before the tape deck. Then he turned back to Jo. 'Now, Joanna - may I call you Jnna?' 'Jo,' Jo whispered. " 'Very well, Jo. I want you to relax ,co,hpletely and close Jo felt the panic overtaking her. Her eyes flew open and she sat uptight. 'Oh God, I'm sorry. I don't think I can do it.' 'Just as you like. Try leaning back against those cushions. Why don't we try a light trance first, just to make you feel more relaxed, shall we? There's nothing to worry about. Just something to make you feel good. You may have seen Bill Walton do it. It's a very usual way of testing people's reactions.' Behind him Sarah smiled grimly, recogulsing the tone of his voice as she saw Jo make herself comfortable against the o-shions, her ankles crossed on the sol1 hide of the sofa, Jo dosed her eyes once more and visibly tried to make herself relax. 'That's free.' Betmet moved towards her on silent feet. 'Now, the sun is filling the room once more, so I'm going to ask Sarah to putt down the blinds, but meanwhile I want you to keep your eyes tight closed.' He glanced at the window. The sun had gone. The narrow strip of sky visible from the room was a livid bruise of cloud. There was a low rumble of thunder as he began speaking again. 'That's right. You can feel the light burning your eyes. Keep them tightly closed. fine.' He touched her face lightly. 'Now, you want to them but you can't. The light is too bright.' did not move. She could hear him clearly and she knew could open her eyes if she wanted to, but she could sense glare behind her lids. There seemed no point in moving Sarah had shut out the sun, the dazzling white shape had appeared over the rim of the house on the other of Devonshire Place, shining directly into the room. Bennet took her hand gently. 'Jo, can you hear me? Good. I'm going to tickle your hand slightly, just enough to you feel me do it?' Sarah gasped. He had taken a small pin from his lapel and it deeply into her palm, Jo smiled, her eyes still closed, he didn't shut out the sun. glanced at Sarah. Then he turned back to Jo. 'How dear, I want you to go back to when you were a little Some ten minutes later Sarah's whisper broke into his con 'Carl, she's the best subject I've ever seen.' He frowned at her, his whole attention fixed on the figure hack against the cushions in front of him. 'I had a feeling be,' he replied in an undertone. 'I can't understand Cohen coddn't reach her, unless-' He broke off and at her thoughtfully. ,Unless he gave her a post-hypnotic suggestion that she br some reason.' He turned back to Jo. Jo, my dear, I want you to go back, back to the time born, to the dark time, when you were float free...' stirred uneasily, moving her head from side to side Then lay still again, completely.relaxed as she fistened to him. 61 'Now, Jo. Before the darkness. When you lived before. Do you remember? You are another person, in another time. Do you remember? Can you tell me? What do you eee?' Jo opened her eyes and stared hard in front of her at the arm of the sofa. 'It's getting dark,' she said uncerinly. 'Dark and cold.' 'Are you indoors or out, can you see?' Bennet frowned at the window which showed that it was indeed getting dark and that a torrential summer rain had begun to fall, streaming down the window, gurgling from a broken gutter. There was another deep roll of thunder. Jo spoke hesitantly. 'It's the trees. They're so thick here. I don't like the forest.' 'Do you know which forest it is?' Bennet was watching her intently. 'No.' 'Can you tell me your name?' She frowned, puzzled. 'I don't know. Some call me - they call me Matilda - no, Moll... I don't know.' 'Can you tell me something about yourself, Matilda? Where do you live?' Slowly Jo pushed herself up from the cushions till she was sitting bolt upright, staring into space. 'I live,' she said firmly, 'I live far away from here. In the mountains.' Then she shook her head, perplexed. 'The mountains fill my eyes. Black and misty, not like at home.' She began to rub her eyes with her knuckles, like a Child. She looked bewildered. 'I don't know. I don't remember. I want to sleep.' She lay hack and closed her eyes. 'Tell me something else then, Matilda,' Bennet prompted gently. 'What are you doing?' There was no answer. 'Are you walking in the forest, or riding perhaln?' Jo hunched her shoulders rebelliously and said nothing. Bennet sighed, 'Come now, my dear. Tell me what are you wearing? Are you dressed in your prettiest clothes?' He was coaxing now. He glanced at his watch and then looked at 'Pity. I thought we were going to get something interWe might try again another time -' He broke offas Jo exclamation. 'They told me to forget. How can I forget? It is happening Bennet- had not taken his eyes off her face. He leaned for-r nerve ending suddenly tense. Slowly Jo was standing up. She took a couple of paces from sofa and stood looking at the wall, her eyes wide open. is it going to stop snowing?' she asked distinctly. She around herself as if trying to enfold herself warmly in her thin linen dress and he saw her shiver 'It is snowing hard,' Bennet agreed cautiously. She frowned. 'I had hoped it would hold off until we the castle. I don't like the snow. It makes the forest so 'Can you tell me what the date is, my dear?' 'It is nearly Yule.' She smiled. 'Time for feasting.' 'And which year, do you know?' Bennet reached for a notepad and pen. He watched Jo's face carefully. Her eyes normal and focusing, but not on him. Her hand, when reached gently and touched it, was ice-cold. 'It is the twentieth year of the reign of our Lord King she said clearly. 'What a foolish question.' She took step. 'Oh Holy Mother of God, we're nearly there.' Her voice fell to a whisper. 'I am going to William.' 'Who is William?' Totally absorbed, Bennet stopped writing and looked up, waiting for an answer. But Jo did not answer. Her whole attention was fixed on mmething she could see distinctly lying on the road in front of her in the snow. It was.the bloody body of a man. 62 63 The melting snow was red with blood. Richard, the young Earl of CIare and Hertford, pulled his horse to a rearing halt, struggling to control the animal as it plunged sideways in fear, its ears fiat against its head. It had smelled the carcass and the wolves at the same moment and it snorted with terror as Richard tried m force it around the deserted kill at the edge of the track. A buzzard flew up at the riders' approach leaving all that remained of the mangled corpse in the slush-threaded mud. A few rags ofclothing were the only sign that it had once been human. 'What is it? What's happened?' The slim red-haired girl swathed in a fox fur mantle who had been cantering fast behind him was concentrating so hard on catching him up that his sudden halt nearly unseated her. Behind her, at a more sedate pace, rode a second young woman and Richard's twelve knights, wearing on their surcoats the gold nd scarlet chevrous of Clare. The riders formed a semicircle in the cold sleet and gazed down at the torn limbs. One or two of the men crossed themselves fervently and the red-haired girl found herself swallowing hard. She pulled her veil across her face hastily. 'Poor ma' she whispered. 'Who could have done such a thing?' 'Wolves.' Richard steadied his horse with difficulty. 'Don't look, Matilda. There's nothing we can do for the miserable bastard. No doubt the men of the village will come and bury what the buzzards and kites leave.' He turned his horse and kicked it on, forcing it past the body, and the other riders slowly followed him, averting their eyes. Two or three had their hands nervously on the hilts of their swords. All round them the bleak Welsh forest seemed deserted. Oak and ash and silver-limbed beech, bare of leaves, their trunks wet and shining from the sleet, crowded to the edge of the track. Save for the ringing of the horses' hooves on the outcrops of rock and the squeak and chink ofharness it was eerily silent. Richard gazed round apprehensively. He had been shaken more than he liked to admit by the sight of the slaughtered -man. It was an ill omen so near the end of their journey. He noticed Matilda edging her horse surreptitiously closer to his and he grinned in sympathy with a silent curse for the need an armed escort which prevented him from taking her him on his saddle and holding her in the safety of his . But escort there had to be. He scanned the lengthening more and tightened his grip on his sword. Wales was a savage place; its dark glowering mountains, vild people filled him with misgiving. That should want to come here of her own free will, to join Braose when she did not have to, filled him with 'We should never have left Raglan,' he said tersely. 'Walter was fight. These forests are no place for a woman with q have a proper escortI' He saw the angle of her chin rise a 'You.' away, echoing from the lonely hills, came the cry of a The horses tensed, ears flat, and Matilda felt the small the back ofher neck stir with fear. :, How much further until we get there?' she whispered. 'A few miles. Pray God we reach there dark.' He turned in his saddle, standing up in the to see his men better. 'Make all speed,' he shouted, spurred his horse on towards the north. pounded after him, clinging low over her horse's determined not to drop behind, and their thundering up clods of mud where the ice-rimmed puddles melting slowly in the rain. The track was growing r treacherous and slippery. quickly drew level with him again, her white veil for a moment across her face from beneath her fur 'Richard,' she called, 'wait. Slow down. This will be last chance to talk...' He slowed fractionally, wiping the sleet from.his eyes. 'We have had time enough to talk,' he said abruptly. 'You have chosen to tell me very little. I have no idea, even, why you are here, which will make h hard for me to face your no doubt irate husband with a satisfactory explanation as to why I have brought you to him.' He saw her flush. 'Just tell him the truth,' she retaliated defensively. 'Very well.' He lashed his reins across the horse's neck. 'I shall tell him how I was quietly riding, minding my own business, from home in Toubridge to Gloucester when I met his baggage of a wife, completely unescorted except for one trembling female, hell-bent on riding the breadth of England to his side in mid-winter. I shall tell him that I saw it as my chivalrous duty to escort you myself. And I shall tell him that any man who leaves a young, beautiful, newly wed bride alone in Sussex with her mother-in-law, while he travels to his furthest lands, is a mutton-headed goat.' He managed a wry grin, ducking the wet slap of a low.hanging branch in his path. If Matilda had been his wife he would not have left her." He clenched the reins fiercely; no one would accuse Richard de Clare of lusting after another man's wife. He admired her daring and her humour and her spirit, so unusual in a woman, no more than that. He glanced across at her and saw that she was smiling. 'Why did you choose to come to Wales?' he asked suddemy. She looked down at her hands. 'Because I have nowhere else to go, but to my husband,' she said simply. 'With him I am a baron's lady, mistress of a dozen castles, a woman of some importance.' Her mouth twitched imperceptibly. 'At Bramber with his mother I am merely another female with the sole distinction of being hated by her twice as much as anyone else. Besides,' she added disarmingly, 'it's boring there.' He stared at her in disbelief. William de Braose was a vicious ill-bred man at least twice her age, with a reputation which few men would envy. Even the thought of the brute's hands touching her made the blood pound in Richard's temples. 'And you would prefer your husband's company to being bored?' he echoed incredulously. She raised her chin a fraction, a mannerism he was beginning to know well. 'I did not ask your opinion ofhim, just as I did not ask you to escort me to him.' 'No, I offered.' He took a deep breath. 'So - I shall tell him also,' he went on, 'that an invitation to this Christmas banquet we hear he is to give for Prince Seisyll tomorrow is the only reward I shall ask for all my tmuble I shall waze aside the gold and jewels he is bound to press on me for my services in escorting you. I shall nobly ignore his passionate outpourings of gratitude and praise.' Matilda nmde a small grimace, all too well aware of her husband's reputation for tight-fmtedness. She frowned, glancing at Rich-rd sideways. 'Supposing he's furious with me for coming?' 'So you have considered that poesibility at lastV Richard tquinted into the wind. 'He'll probably beat you and send you back to Bramber. It's what you deserve.' A racing shadow in the trees distracted him for a moment. He scanned the surrounding forest, his face set. They were passing through a clump of junipers, thick and impenetrable; the ideal hiding place for an ambush. Secretly he suspected that his men, however well-armed would be no match for the leaping, yelling Welsh should they choose to attack. He had heard that they could sweep down, cut a throat, rip open a horse's belly and be away again before a man ever bad the chance to draw his sword. He shuddered every time he of the dangers on the route which Matilda had so decided that she and Nell could ride on their own. 'Is that what you'd do to your wife?' She peered at him, wiping the rain from her eyes as they trotted on again, side by side. 'What?' 'Beat her and send her home.' 'Of course. Especially if she turned up with a good-looking 66 67 fellow like me.' He forced a smile, his eyes still narrowed as he gazed through the icy sleet. Matilda glanced at him then changed the subject, turning in her saddle. 'Poor Nell. She's still keeping up.' The girl was white-faced and rode slumped in the saddle, her eyes fixed determinedly on her shiny knuckles as they clutched the cold wet reins. She was obviously near to tears, oblivious to the half-hearted banter of the knights around her or the tired baggage animals who iostled her horse constantly with their cumbersome packs. Matilda grimaced ruefully. 'She started this adventure so well with me, but she's regretting every step now. Ever since we crossed out of Sussex, even with you there to protect us, she's been scared and weepy. Seeing that poor man will be the last straw. She'll spend the night having the 'Don't tease her.' Richard leaned forward to slap his horse's steaming neck. 'She had a lot ofcourage to come with you. You didn't feel so brave yourself when you saw that corpse. And don't forget no one else would cme with you at She frowned, and dug her mare indignantly with her heels, making it leap forward so that she had to cling to the saddle. 'Most. the others were Lady Bertha's women anyway, ' not mine,; the:mdd defensively. 'I didn't want them to come. I shall for my own attendants as soon as we get to a smile. 'That's a good idea. Go and uow. Fm going to scout ahead and check all is tnot give her the chance to argue, spurring his of the forest worried him. here were :the charcoal burners, the swineherds, the And i not theirs then whose were feel watching him from the undergrowth? . reined in and waited for Nell to draw level. eyes were red-rimmed from the cold. my lady?' She made an effort at smiling. 'My hands are aching so from the cold, I'm drenched through to my shift, and I'm o exhausted. I never imagined it would be so many days' ride from Bramber.' Her voice had taken on an unaccustomed whining note which immediately irritated her mistress. 'We're almost there, Hell.' Matilda made no effort to hide her impatience. She was straining her eyes ahead up the track after Richard as the trees thinned and they found themselves crossing a windswept ridge covered in sodden bracken, flattened by the rain. There was a movement in some holly bushes on the hillside to the right of them and she peered at them trying to ee through the glossy greenery. Her heart began to pound. Something was hidden there, waiting. Two deer burst out of the thicket and raced away out of sight up the hill. Richard cantered back to her side. He was smiling, but there was a drawn sword in his hand. 'I thought we were in for trouble for a moment,' he called. 'Did you see? Shall I send a couple of men after them? Then we can make our own contribution to the feast.' They plunged into the thickness of the forest again, their horses' feet padding in the soft wet leaf-mould beneath the bare trunks of sh and beech. From time to time the cold waters of the Usk appeared in the distance on their left, pitted grey with raindrops. Sometimes the track ran straight, keeping to the line of the old Roman road, then it would wander away over the curving contours which followed, amongst the trees, the gently sloping hills. Slowly dusk was coming on them through the trees, up from the river valley, and with it came menace. The escort closed more tightly round them and, at a command from Richard, the men drew their swords. Matilda saw his face was concentrated and grim and she felt. a sudden shiver of fear. They rode on in silence through the darkening forest until at last in the distance through the trees they glimpsed the tall white keep of Abergavenny Castle, swimming in the mist which had gathered over the river. 69 Richard's face grew more taut as he saw it. The castle meant sanctuary from the threatening forest. But it also meant facing de Braose and relinquishing to his care the beautiful child-woman who was his wife. They rode as fast as they could through the half light across the deserted fields which clustered around a small township, past the church, and up the track which led to the drawbridge and the high curtain walls of the castle. It seemed that they were expected for the drawbridge was down and the guard .stood to attention, allowing them to clatter through into the castle ward unchallenged. There, shadowed by the towering walls, darkness had already come and torches flared in high sconces, lighting the faces of the men of the garrison with a warm unreal glow. As soon as they were across it the drawbridge began to move, the cumbersome clank of the rolling chains signalling the disappearance of the cold forest as the gates closed and the castle was sealed for the night. William de Braose was waiting for them oR the steps of the great hall. He was a short man of stocky build with a ruddy complexion set offby his tawny mantle, his dark gold hair and beard catching fiery lights from the torches in the wall sconces behind him. He watched the men and horses milling round for a moment then he slowly descended the steps and approached his wife, his hand outstretched to help her dismount. His face was thunderous. Swinging off his own horse Richard saw with a quick glance that for the fu'st time Matilda looked afraid. 'In the name of Christ and all His saints what are you doing here?' William roared. He reached up and pulled her violently from the saddle. When standing she was several inches taller than he, a fact of which he was obviously painfully conscious. 'I couldn't believe it when my scouts said that you were coming through the forest. I thought I forbade you to leave Bramber till the spring.' 'You did, my husband,' Matilda tried to sound contrite as she pulled the furs more closely round her in the chill wind. TO 'But the weather seemed so good this winter and the roads were passable, so I thought there wouldn't be any danger. I hoped you'd be glad to see me...' Her voice tailed away to silence and she could feel her heart beginning to thump uncomfortably beneath her ribs. How could she have forgotten what he was like? The hostility with which he always treated her, the cruelty in which he took such pleasure, the rank smell of debauchery which hung over him? In spite of herselfsbe shrank from him and abruptly he released her arm. He swung round on the circleof men which had formed around them, listening with open interest to the exchange. His face flushed a degree deeper in colour. 'What are you staring at?' he bellowed. 'See to your horses and get out of my sight!' Matilda turned, blindly searching for Richard amongst the men. He was standing immediately behind her. Gently he took her arm. 'Let me help you in Lady Matilda,' he said quietly. 'You must be tired.' William swung round, his head thrust forward, his fists clenched. 'Leave her, Lord Clare,' he shouted. 'My God, you'd better have a good reason for bringing my wife here.' He swung on his heel and strode towards the flight of steps which led up to the main door of the keep, his spurs clanking on the hollow wood. Halfway up he stopped and turned, looking down on them. 'You are not welcome here, either of you.' His face was puce in the flickering torchlight. 'Why did you come?' Matilda followed him, her cloak flying open in the wind to reveal her slim tall figure in a deep blue surcoat. 'I came because I wanted to be with my husband,' she said, her voice clear above the hissing of the torch beside her. 'My Lord de Clare was only going as far as Gloucester, but he insisted that it was his duty not to let me travel on my own. We owe him much thanks, my lord.' Her husband snorted. He turned back up the steps, walking into the great hall of the keep and throwing his cloak down on the rushes where a page r to pick it up. 71 'His duty was it?' He stared at Richard as he followed him tn, his eyes stony with suspicion. 'Then you will perform the touble duty of escorting her back.to Gloucester at first light.' Matilda gasped. 'You're not going to let me stay?' 'Indeed I am not, n,4tn.' 'But... why? May we not at least stay for the feast tomorrow?' She had followed him towards the central hearth in the rowded hall. 'Why shouldn't we attend? It is not my right as gout wife to be there?' 'No, it is not your right,' he roared. 'And how in the name of Christ's bones did you learn of it anyway?' He turned on her and, catching her arms, gripped her with a sudden ferocity. 'Who told you about it?' 'Walter Bloet at Raglan. Stop it, my lord, you're hurting me!' She struggled to free herself from his hold. 'We stopped there to rest the horses and they told us all about it. He was very angry that you had not invited him.' She glanced round, suddenly conscious of the busy figures all around them. Only those close to their lord and his lady seemed to realise that there was something/amiss between them and had paused to eavesdrop with unashamed curiosity. The rest were too absorbed in their tasks. Smoke from the fire filtered upwards to the blackened shadows of the high vaulted cuing. 'Damn him for an interfering fool! If you had waited only anoth6r two days, all might have been well.' He stood for a moment gazing at her. Then he smacked his fist into the palm of his hand. 'Go on up.' He turned away. 'Go to my bedchamber and rest. You are leaving tomorrow at dawn. That is my last word on the subject.' Matilda looked around desperately. The evening meal was obously not long over and the servants had only just started clearing away the trestles to make room for the sleepers around the fire. Two clerks had come forward, hovering with a roll of parchment, trying to catch William's eye, and the shoemaker, a pair of soft leather boots in his hand, was trying to attract his lord's attention behind them. Her husband's knights, men-at-arms, guests, servants crowded round them. On the dais at the end of the hall a boy sprawled, his back against a pillar, softly playing on a viol. Richard touched her softly on the arm. 'Go up, my lady. You need to rest.' She nodded, sadly. 'What about you? Your welcome is as cold as mine.' 'No matter.' He smiled at her. 'I'll take you back to Gloucester as he commands, first thing tomorrow. It is for the best.' He escorted her towards the flight of steps at the end of the hall which William had indicated, cut into the angle of the new stone wall, and at the bottom of the stair he kissed her hand. A single rush taper burned weakly in the vaulted chamber above. A tapestry h.ung on one side of the shadowy room, and a fireplace was opposite. Matilda was trying to hold back her tears. 'Go and fred the women's quarters, Nell,' she .said sharply as the girl dragged in after her, still sniffing. 'I suppose I'll., .' she hesitated for only a second, 'I'll be sleeping with Sir William in here tonight. I won't need you.' She shivered suddenly and bit her lip. 'I misjudged our welcome it seems. I'm sorry.' She watched as Nell disappeared up the stair which led to the upper storeys of the tower, then with a sigh she turned to the ftre. She stood for a long time before the glowing embers, warming her hands. All round her her husband's clothes spilled from the coffers against the walls and on a perch set in the stonework a sleepy falcon, hooded against the dim light, shifted its weight from one foot to the other and cocked its head enquiringly in her direction as it heard the sound of her step. Wearily she began to unfasten her mantle. In the hall below a Welsh boy slipped unnoticed to the kitchens and collected a cup of red Bordeaux wine from one of the casks which, were mounted there. Onto a pewter platter he Piled some of the pasties and cakes whidh were being prepared 73 for the next day's feasting and, dark as a shadow, he slipped up the stairs to his lord's chamber. He was sorry for the beautiful girl in the blue dress. He too had been sworn at by de Brsose and he too did not like it. She was standing by the fire, the glowing embers refleaing the red glint in her massed dark hair. Her veil lay discarded on the bed with her wet mantle, and she was fingering an ivory comb. The boy watched breathlessly from the shadows for a moment, but he must have moved, for she turned and saw him, He was surprised to see that there were no tears in her eyes. He had thought to fred her crying. 'What is it boy?' Her voice was very tired. He stood still, abashed suddenly at what he had dared to do, forgetting the cup and plate in his hands. 'Have you brought me some food?' She smiled at him kindly. Still he did not move and, seetng his ragged clothes and dark face, she wondered suddenly if he had yet learned the tongue of his Norman masters. 'Beth yw eich enw?' she asked carefully, groping for the words Meredith the steward at Raglan had taught her, laughing at her quick interest. It meant, what is your name? The boy came forward and shyly went down on one knee, set the wine and cakes on one of the chests beside the bed, then turned and fled back to the hall. Matilda gazed after him for a moment, perplexed, and then, throwing back her hair, she sat down on the bed and began to eat. She was ravenously hungry and she had to think. She sat for a long time over her cup of wine, as the rush burned lower. Then in he last flickering light she stood up and be8 to take off her clothes. The sound of talk and laughter had begun to lessen in the hall belo now an occasional snore was beginning to echo up the ir. To her relief there was no sign of William. She naked under the heavy bed coverings and, her plans quite made up for the morning, was soon asleep. 74 7 On the sofa Jo stirred uneasily. Beneath her lids her eyes moved rapidly from side to side and her breathing quickened. 'I was tired after the days of endless riding,' she said slowly. 'And I slept heavily. It is fast light now. The room is grey and shadowy and the fire has sunk to a heap of white ash. I am sleepy.,, trying to remember where I am...' There was a long pause. 'I am not alone any more... There is someone here with me in the room...' 'So you are awake at last!' William leaned over the bed and dragged the covers down to her waist. His breath stank ofstaie wine. 'My beautiful wife, so eager for her husband's company. I'm flattered, my dear, that you should have missed me so much.' He laughed and Matilda felt herself shudder. She lay still for a moment, afraid to move, as his calloused hands gripped her breasts, then she reached down desperately for the bedcovers, trying to drag them over her once more, remembering the charm she had recited to herselfin the dark; the charm which would protect her from him for months to. come. She forced herseifto lie still and looked up at him, her clear eyes steady on his. He immediately looked away, as always uncomfortable beneath her gaze. 'You must not touch me, my lord.' His mouth widened into a sneer. 'Oh no? And why not, pray?' He grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully until she wanted to scream, but she managed to keep her voice calm as she spoke. 'Because I am with child. And my nurse Jeanne says if you lie with me again whilst he is in my belly he will be stillborn.' She held her breath, watching his face. Cruelty turned to anger, then disbelief, then to superstitious fear. Abruptly he released her and he crossed himself as he straightened, moving away from the bed. 75 'That witch! If she has put the evil eye on my child...' 'She casts no evil eye, my lord.' Matilda sat up, drawing the fur bedcover over her breasts and clutching it tightly. 'She wants to protect him. That is why she sent me to you, whilst I was still able to travel. Your son must be born in Wales, in your lands inthe Border March. You cannot send me back to Bramber.' She watched him, hugging herself in triumph as he stood with his back to her, staring down at the dead-ash in the hearth. Then he swung round. 'How does she know all this?' Matilda shrugged. 'She has the gi of seeing.' 'And she sees that I will have a son?' 'A strong, brave son, my lord.' She saw the look of triumph on his face as he stared at her. 'Very well,' he said. 'But you may not stay here. I shall order a litter to take you on to Brecknock. You will be safe there.' She lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes with a sigh. 'You are kind, my lord. I will try and obey you. I just pray to the Blessed Virgin that the extra journey Will not harm the child. I am so tired.' She put her hand on her stomach dramatically. 'Please. May I not rest a day or two more? For your son's sake?' She glanced up through her eyelashes to see what reaction her words provoked. WilliAm seemed nonplussed. He strode back and forth across the room a couple of times kicking viciously at the hay which was strewn on the floor, obviously struggling with hlmelf. Seeing his preoccupaiou she felt a wave of something which was almost affection for this stocky broad-shouldered run , still almost a stranger to her. He looked so uncertain. 'Are you pleased, WilliA-m?' she asked after a moment. 'About the baby?' 'Of course I'm pleased.' His voice was gruff. 'But I don't want you here. Not today.' 'But why not? I shan't be in your way, I promise.' She raised herself on her elbow, her hair cascading about her bare shoulders, dark auburn in the pale sunlight. 'You won't even know I'm here, and in a day or two when I'm rested I shall go to Brecknock if you think that's really best.' William straightened his shoulders, frowning reluctantly. 'If I allow you to stay,' he blustered, 'and I'm only saying if, you would have to promise on no account to leave this room. Not for any reason. It would not be safe. You would have to give me your oath.' 'I promise, my lord.' She crossed her fingers beneath the COVers. 'You do understand me. You are not to move from here all day, no matter what happens.' He glared down at her. 'In fact you would have to stay in bed. The feast is not for you. It's no ordinary Christm-s junketing but a gathering of local Welsh princes and dignitaries for political discussions. I have to read them an ordnance from King Henry.. That's why the Bloets weren't asked. It's no place for them, and it's no place for women. Do you understand?' He turned away from her and strode over to the perch where his falcon sat. Picking up the gauntlet which lay on the coffer nearby he pulled it over his knuckles. Gently he freed the bird's jesses and eased it onto his fist, whispering affectionately as he slipped the hood from its head. The creature looked at him with baleful eyes. 'If you are going to be here I'll take this beauty hack to the mews,' he said grudgingly. 'Remember, you are not to leave that bed. If you try, I shall have you locked up.' He turned on his heel sharply and lef the room. Matilda waited until his footsteps had died away. Then she slipped triumphantly from the bed and pulled a fur-lined dressing-robe around her shoulders. Running to the high window she peered out, feeling the cold wind lift her hair, listening to the sounds of life which were beginning to stir in .the bailey below. It was grey morning. The watery sun above the hills to the east was so shrouded in mist and cloud that it give off as little heat as the waning moon. Shivering a little she glanced round the room. It did not 76 77 look so comfortable in the cold light but she hugged herself excitedly. Her plan had worked. She was free of Bertha, was mistress of her own large household, or would be very soon, and had ensured that she was free of her husband's loathsome attentions until her baby was born. She gave a wistfial smile. She had never felt better nor stronger than in the last two months, and she knew there was no risk. She was strong and healthy and had had no premonitions for the baby nor for herself. She frowned suddenly as she gazed from the window, for premonitions she had certainly had, strange formless terrors which had plagued her for the last three ights in her drms. She shrugged away the thOUght. Whatever they meant, she was not going to let them spoil today's excitement. She wondered where Richard was this morning, then abruptly she put him out ofher mind. To think about Richard de Clare was dangerous. She must forget him and remember that she was another man's wife. She dragged her thoughts back m the day's feasting. She had no intention ofkeeping her promise to William and staying in bed. She meant to be there at his side. There were about five hours to wait until it began, she judged, squinting up at the sun. Many of the guests were probably already at the castle or camped round its walls, others would be riding down from the Welsh billsand from Prince Seisyll's court, wherever it was, with their attendants and their bards and their entertainers. She felt a tremor ofexcitement. At the sound of a step on the stairs she turned from the draughty window and ran back to the bed, shivering. A small woman entered, her b-ir grey beneath a large white veil. She was bearing a tray and she smiled at Matilda a tittle shyly. 'Good morning, my lady. I've brought you some milk and some bread.' ' Milk!' Matilda was disgusted. 'I never drink milk. I'd much rather have wine.' 'Milk is better for you, madam.' The older woman's voice with the gentle lilt of the hills was surprisingly firm. 'You try it and see, why don't you?' 78 Matilda pulled herself up on the pillows and allowed the woman to feed her broken pieces of the fine wastel bread. She found she was very hungry. 'Did I see you in the hall last night?' she asked between mouthfuls. The woman smiled, showing rotten teeth. 'No madam, I was in the kitchens most of yesterday, helping to prepare for the feasting.' Matilda sat up, her eyes shining with excitement. 'Do you know how many people are coming? Was there much food being brought in? Are the guests already arriving?' Laughing the woman spread her strong work-worn hands. Her nails were badly broken. 'Oh enough for two armies, madam, at least. They seem to have been at work for days, ever since Sir William even hinted at a feast. But yesterday and the day before, I have been helping too with a lot of the women, to see that all is ready in time.' Matilda lay back, stretching luxuriously beneath the rugs. 'I wish I were coming,' she commented cautiously. 'Sir William feels that I should rest because of my condition, and not attend.' She glanced at the other woman, and saw with satisfaction that she looked astonished. 'Surely you'll feel better by then, madam, if you rest now.' The woman smiled kindly and twitched one of the coverlets straight. 'It would never do to miss such a fine occasion at this one, indeed.' Matilda smiled. 'That's what I've been thinking. I feel much .better already.' She noticed that the plate was empty and smiled. It was no use pretending that she felt too ill to eat. She tried to compose her face. 'Where's Nell, the lady I brought with me?' she demanded, suddenly remembering. 'She should have come to look aRer me. I want her to arrange rome maids. I brought no other attendants.' The woman concealed a smile. 'Your lady, madam, is talking to Sybella, the constable's wife. I felt you needed food first, attendants later. I'm thinking you'd have waited all day indeed if it had been up to those two.' Without comment she took the plate and cup and put them aside, bending to pick up mantle which Matilda had left trailing from the end of the bed. 'Tell me your name.' Matilda was watching closely out of half-shut eyes. 'Megan, madam. My husband is one of Sir William's stew 'Well Megan, I want to see that my clothes chests are brought up here and then later, if I do feel better, will you help .me to dress for the feast?' 'Of course I will, gladly indeed.' Megan's face lit up with pleasure. 'And listen,' Matilda raised herself on an elbow and put her finger to her lips. 'We won't let Sir William know that I might be coming. I don't want him to forbid me, thinking I am more She lay hack on her pillows again after Megan had gone, well pleased with the little Welshwoman's conspiratorial -mile of understanding- / Below in the courtyard the morning sounds were reching a crescendo of excitement and down the winding stairs to the hall .he could hear a hubbub of shouting and laughter and the crashing of the boards onto the trestles as the tables were set up. It was hard to lie idle with so much going on about her but she was content to rest for the moment. The time to get up would come later. She watched as a boy staggered in with a basket of logs and pr.oceeded to light a new fire, and then a man humped in her boxes of clothes. There was stiff no sign of Heff, but Megan was close on his heels. Throwing back the lids under Matilda's instructions she began to pull out the gowns and surcoats, crying out with delight as she fingered the scarlets and greens of silks, free linens and soft-dyed wools, laying them on the bed one by one. Matilda looked at each garment critically, considering which she should wear. Ever since she had heard about the feast she had thought about the gold-embroidered surcoat brought to her from London by William for her name day. It had come from the east and smelled of sandalwood and allspice. 'Oh my lady, you must wear this.' Megan held up her green velvet gown trimmed with silver. 'This is perfect for you. It is beautiful, so it is.' Matilda took it from her and rubbed her face in the soft stuff. 'William thinks that green is unlucky,' she said wistfully. She loved that dress and she knew it suited her colouring. It would go well below the gold. Hell appeared at last, fully recovered from the ionrney and in high spirits, as Megan was hanging up the last of the gowns in the garderobe. She had brought a message. 'From one of Lord Clare's knights,' she whispered, full of importance. 'He wants to see you in the solar, now, whilst Sir William is out in the mews with his hawks.' She helped Megan dess Matilda hastily in a blue wool gown and wrapped her in a thick mantle against the draughts. Then, her finger to her lips, she led the way out of the bedchamber. Richard was waiting in the deep window embrasure, half hidden behind a screen. He was dressed for travelling. 'Richard?' Matilda stared at him as Hell withdrew. 'I am leaving. Your husband demands it.' He put out his hand towards her, then let it fall. He shrugged. 'My men are waiting. I return to Gloucester.' 'Ho,' she whispered in anguish. 'I thought he would change his mind and let you stay... I thought you would be here...' He reached out and touched her hand. 'This is your household, lady,' he said sadly. 'This is where you wished to be, at your husband's side. There is no place for me here. Better I go now.' 'But I thought it would be different - I thought it would be all right.' She looked away from him, her bravery and excitement forgotten. 'I had forgotten what he is like.' She put her hands to her face trying not to cry. 'And I have to stay with him for the rest of my life!' Richard felt the sweat start on the palms ofhis hands. 'You are his wife,' he mid harshly. 'In God's eyes you belong to him.' 81 They stood for a moment in silence. She wanted to cling to him. Firmly she put her hands behind her. 'I am carrying his child,' she said at last with an effort. So he is going to let me stay. Not here, but at Brecknock. He is not going to send me back to Bramber after all.' She gave a faint smile. Richard stiffened. The pain in his face was hidden in a moment, but she had seen it. She clenched her ftsts in the folds of her long skirts. 'Are you not going to congratulate me on fulfilling my wifely duty?' He bowed slightly. 'Why didn't you tell me before?' 'I couldn't..' he whpered. 'I couldn't...' Outide the wind was rising, funnelling down the valley, turning the melted slush back to crisp whiteness. It rattled the strutters and creens and stirred the hay which covered the floors, releasing the smell of stale woodruff, tossing the fire smoke back down into the rooms. 'Yon said your men were waiting,' she said at last. The word caught in her throat. 'So. God be with you.' He took her hand and raised it to his lips. Then he le her. She heard himwalk across the room and slowly down the long winding stair, his sword catching on the stone wall as he went until the sound died away and she was alone. She sat for a long time on the stone seat in the embrasure, then, stiff with cold she returned to her room and crept back beneath the covers of the bed. Some time later Megan reappeared. She was bubbling with excitement. Prince Seisyll had arrived with his eldest son Geoffrey and his retinue, his harper and his chief councillors. 'Handsome he is,' Megan reported breathlessly, her eyes sparkling. 'A real prince to look at, and tall...' Mtllda dried her eyes, pushed back the covers, and slipped out of bed. She was standing in the middle of the floor in her shift with Megan braiding her long hair to go beneath her veil when she heard William's unmistakable step on the stairs. She glanced round wildly, looking for somewhere to hide, not wanting him to see her preparations. 'Quick, madam,' Megan threw a warm dreing-gown round her shoulder. 'Wait in the garderobe and I'll tell him you're busy.' She giggled nervously as Matilda fled for the little archway in the comer of the room. Standing motionless amongst the hanging clothes just inside the doorway behind the leather curtain, shivering in the draught from the open closet hole, Matilda held her breath and listened. There was a moment's silence, and then she heard William's irritated exclamation as he saw that the bed was empty. 'Your lady will be back in a moment.' Megan's voice was as firm as ever, Matilda heard, and she imagined Megan gesturing modestly towards the doorway where she was hidden. To her surprise William made no comment. There was a pause as he fiunbled with the lid of a coffer, then she heard his loud step as he left the bedchamber and the squeak and clatter of his chain mail as he ran down the spiral stairs again. She emerged to f'md Megan pulling her gown from beneath a cover on the bed. 'Lucky I thought to hide it, madam, isn'tit?' 'What was my husband wearing, Megan?' Matilda was puzzled. 'Surely he wasn't armed for a feast?' She held up her arms as the other womn slipped the fine green cloth over her head and began to lace it up the back. 'He was wearing a hauberk, madam, then he took his tunic and mantle from over there,' she indicated the rail on the far side of the room, 'and put them on over it. I suppose he can't bring himself to trust his guest quite, even when by custom our people always leave their arms by the door when they accept a man's hospitality.' She smiled a little ruefidly. 'And Prince Seisyll is the Lord Rhys's brother-in-law, and he's the ruler of all south Wales andat peace with your King Henry, so there would be no danger and, besides, I've always heard that Seisyll is a good man, chivalrous, with honour better than many at King Henry's court.' The colour rose a little in her cheeks as she spoke. Matilda smiled and tonched her arm gently. 'Of course he is, 82 83 Megan. I expect William is just being careful, that's all, out of habit.' She bit her llps hard to bring out the red in them, and lifted a small coffer onto the table to find her jewellery and her rouge. 'Are you going to attend at the back of the hall?' 'Oh yes, indeed, as soon as you've gone down. I want to see all the fmery and hear the music.' Megan deftly twisted Matilda's hair up and around her head and helped Nell adjust the veil and the barbette which framed her face. They were pulling the folds of her surcoat of scarlet and golden thread into place and tying the heavy girdle when they heard the trumpet summons to the banquet from the great hall below. Megan looked up in excitement as the notes rose to the high rafters and echoed round the castle. Matilda met her gaze for a moment, holding her breath, then impatiently she gestured at the woman to go down the stairs and peep at the scene. She wanted to time her entrance exactly. Nell had secured herself a place at the feast by cajoling the chateleine and she glanced at Matilda for pexmission to go as Megan returned, her soft shoes making no sound on the stone. 'They are seated, m,dam. They have washed their hands and wine has been called for. They're bringing in the boars' heads now, You must hurry.' She was breathless with excitement. Without a word Matilda crossed to the top of the stairs and, taking a deep breath, began to tiptoe down. She was scared now the moment had come, but she refused to let herself think about what would happen ffWilliam sent her away in front of everyone. She was too excited to turn back. At the foot of the stairs she waited, her back pressed against the stone wall, just out of sight of the noisy hall. It was lit with torches and hundreds of candles, although it full day outside, and a haze of smoky heat was already drifting in the rafters and up the stairs past her towards the cooler upper floors of the tower. The noise was deafening. Cautiously she edged a step or two further and peered round the corner.. The archway where she stood was slightly behind her- hnsband and his guests at the high table, and in the deep shadow she was satisfied that she would not be seen. The Prince, she could see, was seated at William's right hand. He was clean-shaven and his dark hair was cut in a neat fringe across his eyes. He was finely arrayed in a sweeping yellow cloak and tunic and she could see a ring sparkling on his hand as he raised it for a moment. He had thrown back his head with laughter at some remark from a man on his right. Then, as she was plucking up the courage to slip from her hiding place and go to his side, William rose to his feet, and she saw him produce a roll of parchment. He knocked on the table for silence with the jewelled handle of his dagger and then with it still clutched in his 'hand, looked around at the expectant hall. Matilda stayed hidden, scanning the crowded tables, trying to recognise faces she knew. There was Ranulph Poer, one of the king's advisers for the March, with his foxy face and drooping eye, who had visited them on numerous occasions in the summer at Bramber. And there too at the high table was plump white-belted Philip de Braose, her husband's uncle, and between them a youth ofabout fifteen, not much younger than she. That must be the Prince's son, she thought, and as he turned for a moment to lean back inhis chair and look at his father she saw his sparkling eyes and flushed face. He is as excited as I am, she realised suddenly, and she envied the boy who was sitting there by right while she had to resort to subterfuge. To her surprise there were no other faces that she recognised. And there were no women at the high table at all, just as William had said. She had expected him to have invited many of the men whom she knew to be neighbours on the Welsh March, but as Walter Bloet has complained, none of them was present. William was scrutinising the parchment in his hand as ifhe had never seen it before. She could see the ugly hlue vein in his neck beginning to throb above his high collar. His mail corselet was entirely hidden by his robe. 'My lords, gentlemen,' William began, his voice 85 unnaturally high. 'I have asked you here that you may hear a command from the high and mighty King Henry regarding the Welshmen in Gwent.' He paused and, raising his goblet, took a gulp of wine. Matilda could see his hand shaking. The attention of everyone in the hall was freed on him now, and there was silence, except for some subdued chatter among the servants at the back, andthe growling of two dogs in anticipation of the shower of scraps which they knew was about to begin. Matilda thought she could see Megan leaning against oae of the serving men at the far end of the hall, and briefly she wondered why the woman wasn't seated at one of the lower tables if her husband was a steward. Nell, she had seen at peace, had found herselfa place immediately below the Prince Seisyll had leaned back in his carved chair and was looking up at William beside him, a good-natured smile on his 'This is an ordnance concerning the bearing of arms in this territory,' William went on. 'The King has decreed that in future this shall no longer be permitted to the Welsh peoples, under ...' He broke off as Prince Selsyll sat abruptly upright, slamming his fist on the table. 'What!' he roared. 'What does Henry of England dare to decree for Gwent?' William paused for a moment, looking down at the other man, his face expressionless and then slowly and deliberately he laid the parchment down on the table, raised the hand that still held his dagger and brought the glinting blade down directly into the Prince's throat. Seisyil half rose, grasping feebly at William's fingers, gurgled horribly, and then collapsed across the table, blood spewing from his mouth over the white linen table-cloth. There was a moment's total silence and then the hall was in an uproar. From beneath their cloaks William's followers produced swords and daggers and as Matilda stood motionless in the doorway,, transf'med with horror, they proceeded to cut down the unarmed Welsh. She saw Philip de Braose lift his knife and stab the young prince in the back as the boy rose to try and reach his father, then Philip and Ranulph together left the table and ran for the door, hacking with their swords as they went. William was standing motionless as he watched the slaughter all round him the blood of his victim spattered all over his sleeve. His face was stony. Above the screams and yells a weird and somehow more terrible sound echoed suddenly through the vaulted wooden roof of the hall. A man-at-arms had plunged his sword through the heart of the old harper, who, seated with his instrument, had been waiting to serenade his Prince's host. The old man fell forward, clutching wildly at the strings so that they sang in a frightening last chord and then, as be sprawled to the floor, Matilda saw the soldier slice through the strings of the harp, the blade of his sword still drenched with its owner's blood. 87 Slowly she became aware of the pain in her hands and looking blindly away for the first time from the terror of the scene in front of her, she stared at them. For a moment she could not focus her eyes at all in the darkness, but then as the flickering torchlight played over the wall where she stood hidden she realised she was clinging to the rough-hewn architrave of the arch as though her life depended on it, and where her nails had clawed at the uneven surface her fingers were bleeding. -There were smears of blood on the pale stone; her own blood. It was the last thing she saw. In the grip of a numbing horror which mercifully blotted out the sound of the boy's desperate screams, she began to grope her way along the wall. Her gown and shift were drenched with sweat and she could feel the sour taste of vomit in her mouth as she dragged herself back up the spiral stairs, tripping on her long skirts in her haste to escape to the upper room before sh collapsed. The only sound she could hear was her own breath, coming in tight dry gasps which tore painfully at her ribs and caught in her throat, threatening to choke her and, once, the sob of agony which escaped her as she stumbled on her hem and fell heavily, flinging out her hands to save herself with a iar which seared through her wrists and into her iniured fingers. The bedchamber was deserted. The rushlights had died in a smoky smell of tallow and the only illumination came from the fire. Climbing dazed onto the bed she lay rigid, listening to the pine logs hissing and spluttering as they showered sparks onto the floor where they glowed for a moment before going out. The distant sound of a shout echoed up the stairs and she turned over convulsively, pulling the covers over her head, trying to blot out the noise. Then all went black at last and she felt herself spinning down into silence. Some time later she stirred uneasily in her sleep, still hugging the pillow to her face. She half awakened and lay still, listening. A voice was calling her name in the distance, trying to rouse her and bring her back, calling a name again and again. She listened, half roused. But she resisted. She did not want to wake. She could not face the terror which consciousness would bring. 'Let her sleep. She will wake by herself in the end!' The words echoed in her head for a moment, so clear they must have been spoken from beside the bed then, as she turned her face away, they receded once more and she fell back into the dark. When she next woke the room was absolutely silent. There were no voices, no sounds from below in the great hall. She lay for a while, her face still buried in the fur of the bedcover, too stiff and dazed to move, feeling its rancid hair scratchy against her mouth and nose, then at last she managed to raise herselfa little and try to turn over. At once her head began to spin and she was overwhelmed with nausea. With a sob she fell back onto the bed. A hand touched her shoulder and something cool and damp and comforting was pressed gently to the back of her neck. 'I'll help you, my lady, shall I?' Megan's voice was little more than a whisper. At the sound of it Matilda forced herself to lift her head. Then reluctantly she pulled herself up onto one elbow and looked round. 'Megan? Megan, is it you? Tell me it's not true. It's not. It's not...' Her voice broke. 'It must not be true.' The room was dark as she groped for the woman's hands and held them fast. Slowly as her sight adjusted to the gloom she could just see Megan's face in the dying glow of the fire. Her eyes were shut and tears streaked her cheeks as, word leasly, Megan shook her head. They rema-ied unmoving for a long time, huddled together on the bed, their hands tightly clasped as they listened to the logs shifting on the hearth. Then at last Matilda pulled herself up against the pillows. 'How long have I been asleep?' she said. Her voice sounded strange and high to her ears. 'Where is my ... where is William?' She could not bring herself to !i him her husband. Megan opened her eyes wearily and sat motionless for a moment, staring in front of her. Then she shook her head, une to spea. 'Is he still here, in the castle?' 'Dmo, I don't know,' Megan answered finally, her voice lifeless. 'They took out the dead and cleaned the blood away. Then Lord de Brsose sent a detachment of his men after the people who stayed behind at Castle Arnold. Prince Seisyll's wife, his babies...' She began to cry openly. 'His babies?' Matilda whispered. 'William has ordered the death of Seisyll's babies?' She stared at Megan in disbelief. 'But surely there are guards, there will be men there to protect them?' 'How? When all the Prince's men came with him, thinking there is peace between King Henry and the men of Gwent, trusting the King of England's honour!' The gentle face bad twisted with hatred. , 'I must stop them.' Pushing the cover, aside Matilda climbed shakily from the bed. Her-feet were bare but she did not notice. Mcgan did not move as she made her way to the top of the stair* and listened for a moment to the silence which was broken only by the howl of the wind outside the walls. Steeling her*elf Matilda began to tiptoe down, her feet aching from the cold stone. The great ball was empty. The rushes on the floor had been swept away, leaving the flagstones glistening with water. The tables had been stacked and the chal and benches removed. It was absolutely empty. Moving silently on her bare feet Matilda crossed to the centre of the floor and looked round. The echoing vault of the roof was quiet now and the fire had died. Two or three torches still burned low in their conces, but there was no one to tend them and they flared and smoked by turin in the draught. The only smell that remained was the slightaroma of roasting beef. 'Sweet Jesus,' she breathed. She crossed herself fearfully as her eyes searched the empty shadowy corners but nothing stirred. There were no ghosts yet of the dead. Forcing herself to move she left the hall and went in search of her husband. The solar, the guardroom, the kitchens and the stores were all empty. And the chapel where the wax candles had burned almost to the stub. The whole keep was deserted. Reluctantly she turned at last to the entrance and walking out stood looking down into the dark bailey courtyard below. It was full of silent people. Every man, woman and child from the castle and the township appeared to be there, standing around the huge pile of dead. Behind them some of Willima's guards stood muttering quietly, looking uneasily around them into the shadows or towards the lowered drawbridge. They all appeared to be waiting for something- or someone. Nowhere was there a sign of the dark twisted face which belonged to her husband. Matilda stepped out over the threshold and walked slowly down the flight of wooden steps. She was half-couscious of the enquiring faces turned towards her on side, but her eyes were fixed on the bodies of the dead. The Welsh moved aside to lt her pass and watched as she walked, head and shoulder* taller than most of them, a stately slim figure in her gold and scarlet gown, to stand before her husband's victims. An icy wind had arisen. It whipped at her long hair, tearing it out of the loose braids that held it. Megan must have removed her head-dress whilst she lay insensible and she had not noticed. She stood there a long time, head bowed, her eyes fixed on the ground, only halfsing the flickering shadows thrown by the torches of the men-at-arms. Then at last she raised her yes to look directly at the men her husband had killed. The body of Prince Seisyll lay slightly apart from the others and someone had crossed his hands across his breast. On his forefinger a dark red stone glittered coldly in the torchlight. Slowly her gaz travelled to the gory heap, searching for the body of his son, the boy whose excited happy mood had so 91 matched her own. She saw him almost at once, lying sprawled beneath another man, his head thrown back, his mouth open in horror at what he had seen. A trickle of blood had driedon the downless chin. His fingers were still clutching the linen napkin which the page had hnded him as William began his speech. A fe feet from his head lay the harp with its severed strings. Its had been snapped in two. -,,tter feet no longer felt the cold as she walked across the te the gatehouse and out over the drawbridge. In fact he mthing at all. No one tried to stop her. The guards movt41le to let her pass and regrouped beneath the gateway She alowly down towards the shining sweep of the river, her hair quite loose now, lifting around her head in a clm. The wind carried showers of icy raindrops off the iron whitene of the desolate hills but she neither saw nor felt their sting on her face. Somehow she seemed to find a path as she moved through the darkness and she avoided trees and bushea and the outcrops of rock in her wa. The cold moon was inting fitftflly through the rushing clouds to reflect in the Uek beneath as she stood for a while on the bank gazing into the lnmiruu water; th she walked on. Soon the castle was out of sight and she was quite alone in the whispering trees. There the snow had melted and clogged into soft slush beneath the network of roots and the path became muddy beneath her toes, dragging at the sodden train Of her gown. It was several times before she realised that there was someone speaking to her, the voice quietly insistent, urging her back, lming the unsteady thudding of the pulse in her head. 'I'm reaching her now,' Carl Bennet murmured to the frantic woman at his side. He sat forward on the edge of his chair, staring intently at Jo as she lay restlessly on the sofa by the window..Outside the rain had begun again, sliding down the panes, forming little black pools in the soil of the dusty window-box. 'Jo? Matilda? Can you hear me?' His voice was professionally calm and reassuring again, only the beads ofsweat on his forehead betraying the strain of the past hour. On the sofa Jo stirred and half turned to face him, 'Who is that?' she asked. 'There is sleet in the moonlight. I cannot see properly.' Her eyes opened and she stared blindly at Bermet. 'Is it you? The Welsh boy who brought me my food? I did not know what was planned. You must believe me, I did not know ..' With tears running down her cheeks again she struggled to sit up, clutching at Bennet's jacket. Avoiding her desperate fingers he leaned forward and put his hands gently-on her shoulders, pushing her back agaln*t the cushions. - 'Listen, my dear, I am going to wake you up now, I want you to come back to us. I am going to count to three. When I do so you will wake up as Joanna Clifford. You will remember all that has occurred but you will be relaxed and happy. Do you understand me?' For a moment he thought she had not heard him, but after a pause her hands dropped and she ceased struggling. He watched her face, waiting for the slight nod which came after a long perplexed silence. 'Good girl,' he said softly. 'Now... one - two - three.' He waited only a moment more, to be certain, then he leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses. Jo lay still, staring from Bennet to his secretary and back. For a moment none Oftbem spoke then, as Jo raised her hand and ran her fingers through her hair, Bennet stood up. 'I think we could all do with some coffee,' he said, his voice shaking. 'Would you, Sarah, please?' He walked across to the table and switched off the tape recorder with a sharp crick. He took a deep breath. 'Well, how do you feel, Jo?' he asked. His tone was right and Conversational. His spectacles polished to his satisfaction at last, he put them back on his nose. Then he turned to look at her. 'I don't know.' Jo pushed herself up against the cushious 'Oh God, I'm so cold. My feet are freezing.' She leaned forward and rubbed them. 'And my fingers are hurtin- Oh 93 Christ, I don't beiieve it! Tell me it didn't happen!' She buried her face in her hands. Bennet glanced at the open door through which came the sound of rattling cups from the kitchen. 'Do you remember everything?' he asked cautiously. Removing the reel from the recorder he held it lightly between finger and thumb. 'Oh yes, I remember. How could I forget!' Jo raised her face and stared at him. He recognised the same blind anguish he had seen as she acted out the role under hypnosis. 'All that blood,' she whispered. 'To tee those men die. To smell it! Did you know blood smelled? And fear? The stink of fear!' She stood up unsteadily and crossed to stare out of the window. 'That boy, doctor. He couldn't have been more than fdteen. He watched hi, father die and then -' Her voice cracked to a husky whisper and she fell silent, pressing her forehead agalust the windowpane as a tear trickled down her cheek. Quietly Sarah reappeared and put the tray on the desk. Bennet raised his fingers to his litm. He was watching Jo intently. Outside there was a flurry of angry hooting in the narrow street but none of them noticed it. Jo turned back towards the room. Her face was white and strained. 'Did you record everything I mid?' He nodded. Her own,*ll tape recorder still tat on the floor beside the couch, the microphone lying where it had fallen on the rug. 'Come, have coffee now,' he mid quietly. 'We can listen lter.' 'I still don't believe it,' ,he mid as she tat down and took the cup from him. It rattled lightly on the taucer as ,he tightened her grip. 'You've t me up somehow. No, not intentionally, but somehow. There is no way all that w real, and yet I couldn't have dreamed that-that obxnity-that boy's death.' She found herself blinking hard and,he steadied herself with n effort. There was a long silence. She sipped the coffee slowly, then ,he looked up, forcing a tmile. 'So, tell me what you thought. How did I do as a ubject?' Bennet had taken his own cup back to his chair and Sarah, sitting at the side-table, her own hands still shaking, turned to look at him. She had recognised his barely suppressed excitement. He chewed his upper lip for a moment. 'I think I can tay in all honesty that you are the best subject I have ever worked with,' he taid at last. 'As I told you, people's sensitivities vary enormously and it often takes several sessions before a deep enough trance is reached for any meaningful contact to be made with another personality.' He took a gulp of coffee. 'But this Matilda. She wasso clear, so vivid.' He stood up again.' And so powerfifl. Do you realise I lot control of you? That has never happened to me before in all my year of experience. I tried to break the trance and I couldn't!' Jo stared at him. 'I thought I had read that that couldn't happen.' He shrugged. 'It was only temporary. There was nothing to be afraid of. But it was fascinating! Do you feel ready to discuss what you remember now? He reached down to where a pile of notebooks lay beside his chair and selected one. Jo frowned. Then slowly she shook her head, concentrating all her attention on the steaming black liquid in her cup, still fighting the unfamiliar emotions which overwhelmed her. 'In a minute. I'm sorry Dr Bennet, but I feel rather odd.' He was watching her carefully. With a glance at Sarah he went over to collect the coffee pot from the desk in front of her and poured some more into Jo's cup. 'I doubt if'you have ever witnessed a massacre before, my dear,' he said dryly. 'It would be surprising if you were not upset.' 'Upset! But I feel as though I had really lived through it, for God's sake!' 'You have. For you, every part of that experience was real.' 'And not only for you,' Sarah added softly behind him. 'It was an hallucination, some sort of dream.' Slowly Jo put down her cup. 'You must have put it all into my head. You are not trying to tell me that I am a reincarnation ofthat woman -' 'I.am not trying to tell you anything,' mid Bennet with a sigh. 'We are only just beginning to grope our way towards an explanation for this kind of phenomenon. All we can do is record what happens with meticulous accuracy and consider the various hypotheses. I happen to believe in reincarnation, but, as you say, it may well be some kind of dream sequence, and it may come from nowhere but your own unconscious. The interest lies in trying to verify whether or not the events you appeared to live through really happened, and in recording every detail which you can remember.' He took his glasses offagain with a weary smile. 'There is one thing I can assure you of, though. I did not put the idea into your head, telepathically or verbally. The tapes will bear me out on the latter and also my great ignorance of Welsh history. We did not study Wales, I regret to say, in Vienna before the war.' He smiled. 'We won't discuss anything further now, though, if you'd rather not. You are tired and we both need to evaluate what has occurred. But whatever the explanation, the fact remains that you are an amazingly responsive subject. You reached the deepest levels of trance and next time -' 'Hext time?' Jo interrupted him. 'Oh no, not again. I'm sorry, but I couldn't take it. I have enough material here to write my article and that is all I want.' For a moment he stared at her in dismay. Then he shrugged and resumed his seat. 'Of course, I cannot compel you to return, but I do most ardently hope you will. Hot only for your researches, but to help me with mine. This Matilda, she seems a remarkable girl. I should like to know more about her.' Jo hesitated. Then she stood up. 'No, I'm sorry. It is interesting, I agree, but I don't like it. I was so much in your power, in your control. You could be levitating me next, or making me go stiff as a board, whatever you call it, for all I know.' She shuddered. 'Cataleptic.' He smiled again. 'You were in a far deeper state of trance than is needed to induce catalepsis, my dear.' She had begun collecting her notebook from the table but at his words she swung to face him. 'You mean you could have done that to me?' 'Of course.' 'You didn't though.' 'No, although it is still used by some practitioners as a method of gauging the depth oftrance reached. I prefer to use a pin.' His eyes twinkled behind his glasses. 'A pin?' 'Oh yes. You'll hear it on the tape. I stuck a pin into the back of your hand. Had you not been in a sufficiently deep trance you would have shrieked at me, and bled of course.' Jo stared at both her hands in disbelief. 'And I did neither?' 'You did neither.' She shivered. 'It's horrible. You could end up having complete domina-tion over people without them ever knowing it!' Carl looked offended. 'My dear, we have a professional 'code, I assure you, like all doctors, and, as I said, always a chaperone.' 'In case you get your evil way with a woman patient?' The strain on Jo's face lessened as she smiled at last. 'Even hypnotherapists are human!' he responded. 'And as such are liable to be hurt by what I write about them in the magazine?' Serious again, Jo swung her shoulder bag onto her arm. She picked up her tape recorder and stood up, shocked to find her knees were still trembling. Bennet made a deprecatory gesture with his hands. 'I will admit I have read some of your work. I believe it to be well researched and obiective. I can ask for no more from you in my case.' 'Even though I'm not converted to your theories of reincarnation?' 'All I ask is an open. mind.' He went to the door ahead of her. 'Are you sure you feel well enough to go? You wouldn't like to rest a while longer?' She shook her head, suddenly anxious to be outside in the fresh air. 97 'Then I will say goodbye. But even if you feel you must leave us now, I beg you to consider returning for another session. It might help to clarify matters for both of us.' She shook her head. 'No. I'm sorry,' 'Well then, can I ask you to note down every detail of what you remember?' he begged. 'While it is still fresh in your mind. I think you will fred your memory clear and complete. Far, far more than you described to me. All kinds of details which you did not mention at the time but which you will remember later. You'll do it anyway for your article, I'm sure.' He was standing in front of the door, barring the way. And you'll check the history books to see if you can find out whether Matilda existed?' She gave a tight sm.'le. 'I will. I'm going to check everything meticulously. That I promise you.' 'And you will tell me if you find anything? Anything at all?' He took her hand and gripped it firmly. 'Even if she is the heroine of a novel you read last year.' He grinned. 'You don't believe that?' He shook his head. 'No, but I think you may. Perhaps you would come hack, just to discuss what you have discovered,' he went on hopefully as he opened the door for her at last. 'Will you do that?' 'I'll certainly send you a copy of the article before it goes to press.' He sighed. 'I'll look forward to that. But remember, you know where I am if you need me.' He watched as she walked along the carpeted hallway towards the stairs, then he dosed the door and leaned against it. Sarah was collecting the cups. 'Do you think she will come back?' she said over her shoulder. She twitched the rug on the sofa straight and selected a new blank tape for the machine. Bennet had not moved from the door. 'That girl is the best subjea I've ever come across,' he said slowly. Sarah moved, the tray in her hand, towards the kitchen. 'And yet you were dreading this appointment.' He nodded. 'Pete Leveson had told me how anti she was. She had made up her mind before she ever met me that I was a charlatan.' He chuckled. 'But it is the strong willed, if they make up their minds to surrender to hypnosis, who are by far the best subjects. This one was amazing. The way she took it over. I couldn't reach her, Sarah! I could not reach her! She was out of my control.' 'It was frightening,' Sarah said vehemently. 'I wouldn't have liked to be in her shoes. I bet she has nightrna-res about it. Did you notice? She wasn't half so confident and sure of herself afterwards.' He had begun to pace the carpet restlessly. 'I have to get her back here. It is imperative that we try it again.' Sarah glanced at him. 'Weren't you afraid, Carl? Just for a moment' she asked. He nodded. 'I didn't think it could happen. But it did. And that is why it is so important. She'll come though. She'll think about it and she'll come back.' He smiled at Sarah vaguely, taking off his spectacles once more and squinting through them at some imaginary speck on the lens. 'If she's half the journalist I think she is, she'll come back.' 98 9 As the cab drew away from the kerb Jo settled back on the broad slippery seat and closed her eyes against the glare of the sunfight reflected in the spray thrown up from the road by the traffic. Then she opened them again and looked at her watch. It was barely five. She had lived through twenty-four hours of fear and horror and it was barely five o'clock. In front of her the folding seats blurred; above them the tariff card in the window floated disembodied for a moment. Her hands were shaking. With a squeal of brakes the taxi stopped at the traffic lights and her bag shot off the seat onto the floor. As she bent to retrieve it she found herself wincing with pain. Her fingertip felt bruised and torn and yet, when she eAmined them, they were unharmed. She frowned, remembering the way she had clans to the stone arch to stop herself from fainting as she watched the slaughter of William's guests, and she swallowed hard. She put her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket as the taxi cut expertly through the traffic towards Kensington, the driver thankfully taciturn, the glass slide of his window tightly closed, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She felt strangely disorientated, half her mind still clinging to the dream, alienated from the roar of the rush hour around her. It was as if this were the unreal world and that other cold past the place where she still belonged. Her flat was cool and shadowy, scented by some pinks in a bowl by the bookcase. She threw open the tall balcony windows and stood for a moment looking out at the trees in the square. Another shower was on its way, the heavy cloud throwing racing shadows over the roof tops on the far side of the gardens. She turned towards the kitchen. Collecting a glass of apple juice from the carton in the fridge she carried it along to the bathroom, set it carefully down on the edge of the bath and turned on the shower. Stepping out of her clothes she stood beneath the tepid water, letting it cascade down onto her upturned face, running it through her aching fingers. She stood there a long time, not allowing herself to think, just feeling the clean stream of the water wash over her. Soon she would slip on her cool cotton bathrobe, sit down at her desk and write up her notes, just as she always did after an interview, whilst it was still absolutely fresh in her mind. Except that this time she had very few notes, and instead the small tape recorder which was waiting for her. now on the chair just inside the front door. Slowly she towelled her hair dry, then, sipping from her glass she wandered back into the living room. She ran her temgers across the buttons of the machine, but she did not switch it on. Instead she sat down and stared blankly at the carpet. In the top drawer of her desk was the first rough typescript of her article. She could remember clearly the introduction she had drafted: Would you ILke to discover that in a previous life you had been a queen or an emperor; that, just as you had always suspected, you are not quite ofthis mundane world; that in your past there are secrets, glamour and adventure, just waiting to be remembered? Of course you would. Hypnotists say that they can reveal this past to you by their regression techniques. But just how genuine are their claims? Joanna Clifford investigates... Jo got up restlessly. Joanna Clifford investigates, and ends up getting her fingers burned, she thought ruefully. On medieval stone. She examined her nails again. They still felt raw and torn, but nowhere could she see any sign of damage; even the varnish was unchipped. She had a vivid recollection suddenly of the small blue-painted office in Edinburgh. Her hands had been iniured then too. She frowned, remembering with a shiver the streaks of blood on the rnsh matting. 'Oh Christi' She fought back a sudden wave of nausea. Had Cohen hypnotised her after all? Had she seen that bloody massacre 100 101 before, in his office? Was that what Sam had wanted to tell her? She rubbed her hands on the from of her bathrobe and . looked at them hard. Then, taking a deep breath, she were over and picked up the tape recorder, setting it on the low coffee table Kneeling on the carpet she pressed the 'rewind' button and listened to the whine of the spinning tape. She did not wait for the whole reel Halfway through she stopped it. Somewhere in the fiat there must be some cigarettes. Nick might have left some lying about - perhaps if she went to look. But she did not move Outside she could hear the high pitched giggle of a child playing in the garden square, and in the distance the constant hum of the traffic in Gloucester Road. They were twentieth-century sounds. Whatever had hap pened this afternoon had no more relevance than a dream, or a TV movie watched on a wet Saturday afternoon with the cur tains drawn against the rain. So why was she afraid m hear the tape? She pressed the 'play' button and closed her eyes as Carl Bennet's voice filled the room, made thin nd tinny by the small machine. '- and now, tell me about your dress. What colour is it?' Then came her own voice, mumbling, a little hesitant. 'My best surcoat, for the feast. It is scarlet- samite- trimmed with gold thread and, below, its gown of green and silver, and I shall wear my pelisson lined with squirrel fur if Nell can fred it. My boxes are not all unpacked.' Her voice had dropped until it was so quiet it could hardly be heard. 'And now you are going down to the great hail. Are you not afraid your husband will be angry?' Bennet asked. There was a moment's silence, broken only by the hiss of the 'A little,' she replied at last. 'But he will do nothing. He will not want people to think his wife does not obey him and he will not dare touch me because of the child.' 'Are you going downstairs now? Describe it to me.' Bennet sounded as if he was talking to a child of five, his voice patient and clearly enunciated. 102 'The stairs are dark and cold. There oughtto be a light. The wind must have blown it out. But I can hear them laughing now below in the hall.' She was speaking in a strangely disjointed fashion. I sound drunk, Jo realised suddenly and smiled grimly as she listened. The voice went on, describing the scene, pausing now and then for what seemed interminable silences before resuming unprompted. Closing her eyes, Jo found she could see it all so clearly. A nerve began to leap in her throat. She did not have to hear what came next, to listen again to the screams and the agonising crash of metal. She drew up her knees and hugged them as her voice began to speak more quickly. 'William is reading the letter now and the prince is listening to him But he is angry. He is interrupting. They are going to quarrel. William is looking down at him and putting down the parchment. He is raising his dagger. He is going to .. Oh no, no NO! Her voice rose into a shriek. Jo found she was shaking. She wanted to press her hands against her ears to cut out the sound of the anguished scrming on the tape, but she forced herself to go on listening as a second voice broke in. It was Sarah and she sounded frightened. 'For God's sake, Carl, bring her out of it! What are you waiting for?' 'Listen to me, Jo. Listen!' Bennet tried to cut in, his patient quiet voice taut. 'Lady Matilda, can you hear me?' He was shouting now. 'Listen to me. I am going to count to three. And you are going to wake up. Listen to me...' But her own voice, or the voice of that other woman speaking through her, ran on and on, sweeping his aside, not hearing his attempts to interrupt. Jo was breathing heavily, a pulse ' drumming in her forehead. She could hear all three of them now. Sarah sobbing, 'Carl stop her, stop her,' Bennet repeating her name over and over again - both names - and above them her own hysterical voice running on out of control, describing the bloodshed and terror she was watching. Then abruptly there was silence, save for the sound of 103 pauting, she was not sure whose. Jo heard a sharp rattle as something was knocked over, and Bennet's voice very close now to the microphone. 'Let me touch her face. Quickly! Perhaps with my fingers, like so. Matilda? Can you hear me? I want you to hear me. I am going to count to three and then you will wake up. One, two, three.' There was a long silence, then Sarah cried, 'You've lost her, Carl. For God's sake, you're/ost hr.' Bennet was talking softly, reassuringly again, but Jo could hear the undertones of fear in his voice. 'Matilda, can you hear me? I want you to answer me. Matilda? You must listen. You are Jo Clifford and soon you will wake up hack in my consulting room in London. Can you hear me, my dear? I want you to forget about Matilda.' There was a long silence, then Sarah whispered, very near the microphone. 'What do we do?' Bennet sounded ,yshausted. 'There is notl/ing we can do. Let her sleep. She will wake by herself in the end.' Jo started with shock. She distinctly reagembered hearing him say that. His voice had reached her, lying half awake in the shadowy bedchamber at Abergavenny, but she- or Matilda- had pulled back, rejecting his call, and she had fallen once more into unconsciousness. She shivered at the memory. The sharp clink of glass on glass came over the machine and she found herself once more giving a rueful smile. So he had to have a drink at that point, as, locked in silence where he could not follow her, she had woken in the past and begun her search of the deserted windswept castle. For several minutes more the tape ran quiet, then Sarah's voice rang out excitedly. 'Carl, I think she's waking up. Her eyelids are flickering.' 'Jo? Jo?' Bennet was back by the microphone in a second. Jo heard her own voice moaning.softly, then at last came a husky, 'There's someone there. Who is it?' 'We're reaching her now.' Bennet's murmur was full of refief. 'Jo? Can you hear me? Matilda? My lady?' There was a hiss on the tape and Jo strained forward to hear what followed. But there was nothing more. With a sharp click it switched itself off, the reel finished. She leaned back against the legs of the chair. She was trembling all over and her hands were slippery with sweat. She rubbed them on her bathrobe. Strange that she had expected to hear it all again - the sound effects, the screams, the grunts, the clash of swords. But of course to the onlooker, as to the microphone, it was all reported, like hearing someone else's commentary on what they could see down a telescope. Only to her was it completely real. The others had been merely eavesdroppers on her dream. Slowly she put her head in her hands and was aware suddenly that there were tears on her cheeks. At his office in Berkeley Street Nick was sitting with his feet on his desk, staring into space, when Jim Greerson walked in. 'Come on, Nick, old son. I'm. packing it in for the day. Time for a jar?' 'He sat down on the edge of Nick's desk, a stout, red-faced balding young man, his face alive with sympathy. 'Is it the fair sex again? You look a bit frayed!' Nick laughed ruefully. 'I've been trying to reach Jo on the phone. About this.' He picked up a folded newspaper and threw it down on the desk in front of Jim. 'It must have hurt her so much.' Jim glanced down. 'I saw it. Pretty bitchy, that new bird of yours. Poor Jo. I always liked her.' Nick glanced at him sharply. Then he stood up. 'I think I'll look in on her on the way back. Just to make sure she's OK. I'll have that drink tomorrow.' 'I thought she told you to get out of her life, Nick.' Nick grinned, picking up his jacket. 'She did. Repeatedly.' He swung out of the office and ran down the stairs to the street. The skies had cleared after the storm, but the gutters still ran with rain as he sprinted towards the car park. Jo's doorwas on the latch. He pushed it open with a frown. It was unlike her to be careless. 105 'Jo? Where are you?' he called. He walked through to the living room and glanced in. She was sitting on the floor, her face white and strained, her hair still damp from the shower. He saw at once that she had been crying. She looked at him blankly. 'What is it? Are you all right?' He flung down the jacket he had been carrying slung over his shoulder and was beside her in two strides. Crouching, he put his arms around her. 'You look terrible, love. Nothing is worth getting that worked up about. Ignore the damned article. It doesn't matter. No one cares a rap what it said.' He took her hand in his. 'You're like ice! For God's sake, Jo. What have you been doing?' She looked up at him at last, pushing him away from her. 'Pour me a large drink, Nick, will you?' He gve her a long, searching look. Then he stood up. He found the Scotch and two glasses in the kitchen. 'It's not like you to fold, Joi' he called over his shoulder. 'You're a fighter, remember?' He brought the drinks through and handed her one. 'It's Tim's fault. He was supposed to wgrn you last night what might happen.' She took a deep gulp from her glass and put it on the table. 'What are you talking about?' Her voice was slightly hoarse. 'The paragraph in the Mail. What did you think I was talking about?' She shook her head wearily. 'I haven't seen any papers today. I was here all morning, and then this afternoon I went .. out.' She fumbled with the glass again, lifting it with a sh-king hand, concentrating with an effort. 'They printed it, did they? The great slanging match between your past and present loves. That must have done a bit for your ego.' With a faint smile she put out her hand. 'Show me what it said.' 'I didn't bring it.' He sat down on the edge of the coffee table. 'If you are not upset about that, Jo, then what's happened?' 'I went to see a hypnotherapist.' 'You what?' Nick stood up abruptly. 'The man you saw with Tim Heacham, you mean? You saw him again?' She shook her head slowly. 'No, Someone else. This He walked across to the French windows and stared out over the square 'What happened?' She did not answer for a moment and he swung back to face her. 'I warned you, Jo. I told you not to get involved. Why in God's name did you do it? Why couldn't you listen? God knows, you promised.' 'I promised you nothing, Nick.' Wearily she pulled herself to her feet. 'You must have known I'd go. How could I write that article unless I'd been to a session myself?' She threw herself onto the sofa and put her bare feet up onto the coffee table in front of her. 'You did go to a session and you watched someone else being regressed. Tim told me.' 'Welt, it wasn't enough. Have you got a cigarette, Nick?' 'Oh great! Now you're smoking again as well!' Nick's voice was icily controlled 'You're a fool, Jo. I told you it was madness to mess about with this. Damn it, isn't that the very thing you want to prove in your article?' 'A cigarette, Nick. Please.' He picked up his coat and rummaged through the pockets. 'Here.' He threw a packet of Consulate into her lap. 'I've always credited you with a lot of sense, Jo, and I warned you. Hypnotism is not something to undergo lightly. It's dangerous. There is no knowing what might happen.' 'We've been through this before, Nick,' she retorted furiously. 'I've got a job to do and I do it. Without interference from you or anyone else.' She was fumbling with the cellophane on the pack. 'And I'm just hereto pick up the pieces, I suppose?' Nick said, his voice rising. 'And don't tell me you're not in pieces. I've never seen you upset like this. And scared. What have you done to your hand?' He was watching her efforts with the cigarettes. 'Nothing.' Clenching her teeth she ripped the packet open and shook one out. 'Nothing?' he repeated. He gave her another close look. 106 107 Then he relented. 'Go on, you'd better tell me what happened.' He found a matchbox and struck one for her, steadying her hand between his own. 'You let him hypnotise you, I presume?' She nodded, drawing on the cigarette, watching in silence as the cellophane she had thrown down onto the table slowly unfolded itself. The sound of it set her teeth on edge. 'You know, it isn't a fraud,' she said at last. 'I can't explain it, but whatever it was, it came from me, not from him.' She balanced the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray and picked up her glass. 'It was so real. So frightening. Like a nightmare, but I wasn't asleep.' Nick frowned. Then he glanced at his watch. 'Jo, I'm going to phone Judy - I'll tell her I can't make it this evening.' He paused waiting for her to argue, but she said nothing. She lay hack limply, sipping her drink as he dialled, watching him her eyes vague, as, one-h,,nded, he slipped his tie over his head, and unbuttoned his shirt. The whisky was benning to warm her. For the in'st time in what seemed like hours she had stopped shaking. Nick was brief to the point of curtness on the phone then he put the receiver down and came hack to sit beside her. 'Right,' he said, 'let's hear it all from the beginning.' Leaning forward he stubbed out her abandoned cigarette. She did not protest. 'I take it you've got it all on tape?' he nodded towards the machine. 'All but the last few minutes.' 'Do you want me to hear it?' She nodded. 'The other side fst. You'll have to wind it hack.' She watched as he removed the cassette and turned it over then she stood up. 'I'll go and get some clothes on while you listen.' Nick glanced at her. 'Don't you want to hear it again?' 'I did. Just before you came home,' she said quietly. 'We'll talk when you've heard it.' She carried her glass through to the bedroom and closed the door. Then she walked across to the mirror and stood staring into it. Her eyes were strained, but clear. There was nothing in her face to show what had happened. She looked exactly the same as usual. She realised suddenly that she was listening intently, afraid that the sound of voices would reach her from the front of the flat, but the door was thick and lqick must have turned down the volume. The room was completely silent. She went to open the blind which she had drawn earlier that day against the sun, and looked down into the cobbled mews which lay behind the house. On a flat roof nearby someone had put out rows of window-boxes. Petunias, brilliant iewelled colours, their faces wet with raindrops, blazed against the grey London stone. Overhead, a iet flew soundiessly in towards Heathrow, the wind currents carrying the roar of its engine away. It all looked so familiar and comforting, so why did she fred the silence tmnerving? Was it that at the back of her mind she kept remembering the white windswept silence of the Welsh hills? She closed her eyes and at once she felt it, pressing in around her, the vast desolate spaces beneath their blanket of snow and again she felt the ache of the cold in her feet. Shivering, she lay down on the bed and pulled the quilt over her. Then she waited. It was a long time before Hick appeared. She lay watching him quietly as he walked across the carpet and sat on the bed beside her. He looked grim. 'How much ofthat do you remember?' he asked at last. 'All of it.' 'And you weren't fooling?' She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. 'Did I sound as if I were fooling? Did he?' 'All right, I'm sorry. I had to be sure. Do you want to talk about it now?' 'I don't know.' She hugged her bathrobe around her. 'Nick, this is crazy. I'm a iournalist. I'm on a job. A routine, ordinary sort ofiob. I'm going about my research in the way I always do, methodically, and I am not allowing myself to become involved in any personal way. Part of me can see the 109 'In the freezer. I forgot to buy anything today.' She gave a rueful smile. 'I was going to go shopping on my way back from Devonshire Place but everything went out of my head.' Nick grinned. 'I'm not surprised. Being a baron's lady with a castle full of serfs, you can hardly be expected to lower yourself to trundle round Waitrose with a shopping trolley. You must try not to let it upset you too much, Jo. Try and see the amusing side. Think of it as a personallsed horror film. You got front row stalls and no ice-cream in the interval. But, apart from that, thank God there's no harm done this time.' 'That doesn't sound very scientific.' She forced herself to smile. Standing up slowly she pulled the belt of her robe more ttghtly round her. Then she headed towards the kitchen and pulled open the freezer door. 'There's pizza in here or steak.' The norm-ality of her action calmed her. Her voice was steady again. 'Pizza's fine. What intrigues me is where you dredged all up from. The details all sounded so 'Dr Bennet and Bill Walton both said that they usually are. That'= meof their strongest arguments in favour of reincar earae.' She lit the grill and put two pizzas under it. 'Where .it itpmsible to substantiate things, apparently they are ueaallytlmmmily accurate. I'm going to check as much as 'F'detit.'!Heve you any books on costume? What is a - what it, a , for instance?' She A-peli= a kind of cloak I think.' She took some. otttof the fridge and began to slice them as Nick with the whisky bottle and a dictionary. Momentshtter'he. up. 'Pelisse is here. You're right. But no peliem I milbeard. Are you going up to the library temerrow?' She nodded. 'I'mto check everything, Nick. Absol He leant again= the werktop watching her, relieved that she seemed alt! =lore like herself. Her face was beginning to look less pinched. 'I wonder if Matilda really existed?' he said at last. 'And you read about her somewhere. Either that or she's a fictional heroine or was in a TV film or a comic or a strip cartootr when you were a child, or perhaps a f'flm you saw when you were about two years old and have completely forgotten with your conscious mind.' 'And all my wealth of detail is pure Cecil B. De Mille?' She laughed, ruefully. 'All your theories have been put forward before. Mainly by sceptics like mel' 'Well, if it isn't any of those what is it?' He stared down at the glass in his h=-nds. 'Have you considered the fact that Bennet could be right, Jo? That reincarnation could exist?' She shook her head thought.fully. 'No, I can't believe that. There must be a perfectly good explanation which does not strain one's credulity that much, and I intend to try and find it. Perhaps Matilda is my alter ego. The woman I would have liked to have been. Have you thought of that?' He set down his glass and put his arms around her waist. 'I hope not. All those swords and guts and things. No, you told me the premises you'd be working on in your article Jo, and that tape hasn't made me change my mind about a thing you said. It's all fantasy, you're right. Whose, I'm not sure. But that is all it is. It's none the less dangerous for that, but there is nothing supernatural about what happened to you.' She released herself with a frown and reached to lower the gas. 'All the same, I'm not starting to write the article, Nick. Not without asking a great many more questions. It wouldn't be fair to anyone.' She reached down two plates and put them to warm. 'Here, let me make a salad to go with these. Neither Bennet nor Walton was a fake, Nick. I was wrong to think it. They didn't ask any leading questions. Bennet didn't influence my "dream" in any way. Ifhe had I'd have heard on the tape. Look, if there is any period of history I would say that I should like to identify with at all it would be the Regency. If he'd been a fraud he would have found that out in two minutes.' She poured vinegar and oil into a jar and reached for the pepper mill. 'I dare say I could have re-enacted a dozen 113 Georgette Heyer novels. I read everything of hers I could lay my hands on when I was a teenager. But he didn't ask, He didn't guide me at all. Here, give this a shake. Instead I find myself in medieval Wales. With people talking Welsh all round me, for God's sake!' Nick shook up the dressing and poured it over the salad. 'If it was Welsh,' he said quietly. 'God knows what it was you said. If you had jumped up and down shouting Cymru am byth I might have been able to substantiate it!' 'Where did you learn that?' she laughed. 'Rugger. I don't mess about when I go to Twickenh-am you know, it's very educational.' He touched her cheek lightly. 'Good to see you laughing. It's not like our Jo to get upset.' She pushed a plate at him, 'As Dr Bennet pointed out, it's not every day that "our Jo" witnesses a full dress massacre, even in a nightmare,' she retorted. They ate in the riving room. 'Bach to eat by,' said Nick, putting his plate down and riffling throggh the stack of records. 'To restore the equilibrium.' She did not argue. It meant they didn't have to talk; it meant she needn't even think. She let the music sweep over her, leaving her food almost untouched as she lay back on the sofa, her feet up, and dosed her eyes. When she opened them again the sky was dark outside the French windows onto the balcony. The music had finished and the room was silent. Nick was sitting watching her in the fight of the single desk lamp. 'Why didn't you wake me?' she asked indignantly. 'What time is it?' 'Eleven. Time you were in bed. You look exhausted.' 'Don't dictate, Nick. It's time you went, for that matter,' she said sharply 'Wouldn't you like me to stay?' She pushed herself up on her elbow. 'No. You and I are finished, remember? You have to go back to your cosy love nest with the talented Miss Curzon. What was it you said on the phone, "working late" - she won't believe it, you know, if you stay away all night!' 'I don't much care what she believes at the moment, Jo. I am more concerned about you,' Nick said. He stood up and turned on the main light. 'I don't think you should be alone tonight.' 'In case I have nightmares?' 'Yes, in case you have nightmares. has shaken you up more than you realise, and I think someone should be here. I'll sleep here on the sofa if the idea of me in your bed offends you, but I'm going to stay!' She stood up furiously. 'Like hell you are!' Then abruptly her shoulder slumped. 'Oh God, Nick, you're right. I do want you to stay. I want you to hold me.' He put his arms round her gently and caressed her hair. 'The trouble with you, Jo, is that when you're nice, you're 'I know, I.know. And when I'm horrid you hate and detest .me. And I'm usually horrid.' She forced herself to smile. 'Well, tonight I'm being nice. But it is only for one night, Nick. Everything will be hack to normal tomorrow.' In bed they lay for a long time in silence. Then Nick raised blind.elf on one elbow and looked down at her in the faint light which fdtered through the bfind from the street lamp in the mews. 'Jo,' he said softly. 'You haven't told me yet about Richard.' She stiffened. 'Richard?' 'Your lover in that castle. He was your lover, wasn't he?' Restlessly she moved her head sideways so he could not see her face. 'I don't know. It wasn't me, Nick! He left the castle. He wasn't there at the end. I don't know what happened next. I don't suppose I'll ever know.' Agitated, she tried to push him away, but he caught her wrist, forcing it back against the pillow so that she had to face him. 'You're planning to see Bennet again, aren't you?' She shook her head violently. 'No, of course I'm not.' 'Are you sure?' Something in his voice made her stare up into his face, trying to see the expression in his eyes. 'For God's sake don't do it. It's dangerous. Far more dangerous than you or Bennet realise. Your life could be in danger, Jo.' His voice was harsh. She smiled. 'How that is melodramatic. Are you suggesting I could be locked in the past forever?' She reached up and tugged his hair playfully. 'You idiot, it doesn't work that way. People always wake up in the end.' 'Do they?' He lay back on the pillow. 'Just make sure you've got your facts right, Jo. I know it's your proud boast that you always do, but just this once you could be wrong.' 10 Early next morning Sam pm.'d off the taxi and stood for a moment on the pavement staring round him, Judy's address scribbled on a scrap of paper in his hand. He looked up at the house then, slinging his case over his shoulder, he ran easily up the long flights of steps until he reached the shadowy landing at the top of the stairs. It was some time before the door opened to his ring. Judy stared at the rangy figure in the rumpled cord jacket and her eyes hardened. 'What do you want?' 'Hello there.' He grinned at her easily. 'I'm Sam Franklyn.' 'I guessed that. So - what do you want?' Her tone was icy. With paint-stained fingers she pushed back the scarf which covered her hair. 'May I come in?' 'Please yourself.' She turned away and walked back into the studio. Picking up a rag she began to scrub at her fingertips with some turps. 'What have you come here for?' she asked after a minute. She did not bother to turn round. Sam dropped his case in the corner and closed the door. 'I rather hoped Hick would be here,' he said mildly, 'but I can see I've goofed. Where is he, do you know?' 'I don't.' She flung down the rag. 'But I can guess. He stood me up last night.' She folded her arms and turned to face him, He could see now in the harsh revealing light of the studio windows that her eyes were red and puffy. There was a streak ofviridian across her forehead. 'Any chance of some coffee while you tell me about it?' Sam said gently. 'I've come straight from Heathrow and I'm 'Help yourself. But don't expect me to make polite conversation, least of all about Hick. I'm busy.' She turned her back on him again. Sam frowned. He watched her for a moment a she picked up a brush and attacked the canvas in front of her. Every 116 117 muscle in her body was tense, the angle of her shoulders set and defensive beneath the faded green denim ofber smock. 'Do you know,' she said suddenly, 'I hate her. I have never actually hated anyone like that before. Not so much that I would like to see them dead. Do you think I'm paranoid or something?' Her tone was almost conversational as with cool deliberation she loaded her brush with cadmium red and blotted a small figure out of the painting. Sam watched her thoughtfully. 'It sounds pretty normal to me,' he said evenly. 'Do I gather we are talking about Jo?' 'Why don't you make me some coffee too, while you're at it,' she returned sharply, 'and shut up about Jo.' Once again she pushed back the scarf which covered her hair. Sam gave a small grimace. He found his way across to the kitchen by instinct and pushed open the door, then he stopped and surveyed the scene. There was broken glass all over the floor. Two saucepans of food had been left upside down in the sink. Staring down at the mss he sniffed cautiously. One had contained asparagus soup, the other some kind of goulash. Sam frowned. In the bucket below the sink were two china plates with the salad that had been on them. She had hurled out what appeared to him to have been a cordon blen meal, complete with crockery. Glancing over his shoulder he watched for a moment in silence as she worked, then he began to hunt for some coffee and set the kettle on the gas. 'What do you call that picture?' he asked several minutes later when he handed her a mug. She took it without looking at him. 'What you mean is, what the hell is it,' she said slowly. She stepped closer to the painting, eyes narrowed, and added a small touch of red to the swirl of colours. 'I had better not tell you. You'd have me taken away in a strait-jacket.' She gave a taut smile. 'You're the psychiatrist. Why don't you tell me what it means?' She rubbed at the canvas with her little fmger and stared thoughtfully at the smear of ted it left on her skin. Then she swung round to face him again. 'On second thoughts, why don't you drink your coffee and get out of here?' Sam grinned. 'I'm on my way.' 'Good.' She paused. 'I told her, you know. In front of the whole bloody world.' 'Told her what?' Sam was still studying the canvas. 'What Nick said to you on the phone. That she would crack open if she were hypnotised again. That she is more or less out of her mind.' She threw down the brush and crossed to the untidy desk by the window. Pulling open a drawer she extracted a newspaper clipping. 'This was in yesterday's Mail.' Sam took it. He read the paragraph, his face impassive, then he handed it back. 'You ceainly made a good job of that bit of scandal.' Judy smiled. She turned back to her canvas. SO, hadn't you better rush over to Cornwall Gardens and see ff Nick can spare you one of her hands to hold.' 'That's what I've come for.' Sam drank the last of his coffee, then he put down his empty mug. 'I take it,' he added carefully, 'that you think that Nick spent last night with her.' 'Unless he got run over and is in thee mortuary.' 'And you were expecting him here to dinner.' 'As you p|ainly saw.' 'I am sorry.' Sam's face was carefully controlled. 'Nick's a fool. You deserve better.' She went back to the painting and stood staring at it. 'That's right. And I mean to get it. Make no mistake itbout it, Dr Franklyn, I mean to see that Nick leaves her for good. So ff it's your mission in life to comfort Jo Clifford and see that she keeps calm and safe and sane, I suggest you move in with her, and send your brother to me, otharwise I'll see to it that she regrets the day she was born.' Sam turned and picked up his case. 'I'll bear that in mind,' he said. He pulled open the door. 'But if yoU'll take a piece of advice from me, I suggest you use a little more subtlety with Nick. If you behave like the proverbial fishwife he'll go off 118 119 you for good. I know my brother. He likes his ladies sophisticated and in control. If he sees the mess in your kitchen he'll leave, and I wouldn't altogether blame him.' He didn't wait to hear the string of expletives which echoed after him as he began to run down the stairs. Jo was sitting on the cold concrete steps outside the library watching a pigeon waddling along in the gutter. Its neck shimmered with iridescent purples and greens as it moved unconcerned between the wheels of the stationary cars intent on gathering specks of food from the tarmac. The roar of traffic in the High Street a few yards away distracted it not at all. Nor did the scream of an accelerating motorbike a few feet from it. Behind her the library doors were unlocked at last Jo did not move. The events of the previous afternoon, and the restless tormented night which had followed, had receded a little, dreamlike, now that it was day. Standing in the kitchen drinking a hasty cup of tea before Nick woke up, Jo hadstared out of the window and scowled. Somehow Carl Bennerhad mnaged tO influence her. There was no other explanation. She would go tO the library, look up the few facts she had, draw a complete blank there, and return to begin work on an article which .would ridicule out of existence the whole idea of hypnotic regression. lIow standing up slowly, she brushed the dust offher skirt, watching as the pigeon, startled into sleek slimness by her sudden movement, took off and swept with graceful speed up. and over the roof-tops towards the park. As she ran up the echoing staircase to the library she became aware suddenly that she could hear her own heartbeats drlmming in her ears. The sound was disconcerting and she stopped outside the glass swing doors to try to steady herself. Her head ached violently and her eyes were heavy with lack of sleep. Taking a deep breath she pushed through the doors and turned towards the reference section, skirting the tables where already students and newspaper readers were establishing their base camps for the day. As she pulled the notebook from her bag she realised that her hands had begun to shake. Begin with The Dictionary of National Biography. It was unlikely she would find Matilda there, but it was a place to start. She approached the shelf, her hand outstretched. Her fingers were trembling. 'Braos?' she murmured to herself. 'Breos? I wonder how they spelled it?' There was a rustle of paper beside her as a large bespectacled priest turned to the racing page. He looked up and caught her eye. His wink was comforting. She walked slowly along the shelf, squinting at the gold lettered spines of the books, then she heaved out a volume and carried.it to a table, perching uncomfortably on the very edge of the chair as she began to leaf through the pages. Don't let it have been real... Please don't let it have ben real .. I can't cope with that... She shook her head angrily. The thick paper crackled a little, the small print blurring. A slightly musty smell floated from between the covers as the riffling pages stirred the hot air of the room. ... Bowen ... Bradford... Branston ... Braose, Philip de (ft. 1172) two inches of print, then Braose, William de (d. 1211 ). There were more than two pages. She sat still for a moment fighting her stomach. She could taste the bile in the back of her throat. Her forehead was damp and ice-cold and her hands were burning hot. It was a while before she became conscious that the priest was watching her closely and she realised suddenly that she had been staring at him hard, oblivious of everything but the need not to be sick. Somehow she forced herself to smile at him and she looked away. All it meant was that she must have read about them somewhere; she had a good memory, an eye for detail. She was a reporter after all. And that was what she was here for now, her job made easier because the characters she was searching for were obviously at least moderately well known. She took a deep breath and stared down at the page. Was Matilda there, 121 in the article which she could see at a glance was full of place nnmes and dates? Had she lived long enough to make her mark on history and have her name recorded with her cruel overbearing husband? Or had she flitted in and out of life like a shadow, leaving no trace at all, if she had ever erlsted? The priest was still watching her, his kind face creased with concern. Jo knew that any minute he was going to stand up and come over to her. She looked away again hastily. She had to look up Richard de Clare, too, and Abergavenny and make notes on them all. Then, perhaps, she would go and have a cup ofcoffee and accept the consolations of the Church if they It was several minutes before the intercom on the doorstep bdow Jo's fiat crackled into life. Sam bent towards the display board. 'Hie-k? It's Sam. Let me come up.' Hick was waiting on the landing as Sam walked slowly up the carpeted stairs. 'You're too late,' he said brusquely. 'She went to a hypnotist yesterday and let him regress her.' Sam followed him into the brightness of the flat and stared round. 'What happened? Where is she?' He faced his brother coldly, taking in the dark rings beneath Hick's eyes, and the unshaven stubble. 'She had gone before I woke up.' Nick ran his fingers through his hair. 'I think she was OK. She was last night. Just shocked and rather frightened. She had a long session which seemed to get out &control. The hypnotist couldn't bring her back to consciousness. She seemed to get so involved in what was happening, it was so real to her.' 'You were with her?' Sam turned on him sharply. 'Of course not! Do you think I'd have let her go! No, she brought back a tape of what happened and I heard it last night.' Hick shook his head wearily. 'She was in a terrible state- but not in danger as far as I could tell. She never stopped breathing or anything. I stayed the night with her and she spent most of it tossing and turning and pacing up and down the floor. She must have got up at dawn and gone out. She did say she'd go to the library fLrSt thing. Maybe she went there to see if she could find any of these people in a history book.' Sam took offhis jacket and threw it on the back of the sofa. Then he sat down and drew the tape recorder towards him. 'Right, Hick. May I suggest you return to your titian-haired artist friend and try to apologise for last night's ruined meal? Leave Jo to me.' 'Like hell I will!' Hick glared at him. 'I mean it. Go back to Miss Curzon, Hick. She is your new love, is she not? I went there straight from the airport under the impression that you would be there. She is not pleased with you, little brother. If you value your relationship with her I should go and make amends as fast as you can. Meanwhile I shall listen to the tape and talk to Jo when she returns. I shan't want you here.' Hick took a deep breath. 'Jo asked me to stay.' 'And I am asking you to go.' Sam turned his back on Hick, his shoulders hunched as he searched for the 'play' button on the machine. 'She is my patient, Hick.' Hick hesitated. 'You'll ring me after you've spoken to her?' 'I'll ring you. Better still, do you still have your flat in Mayfair?' 'You know I do.' 'Give me the key then. I'll stay there for a night or two. And I'll see you there some time no doubt. He switched on the tape and sat back on the sofa thoughtfully as Jo's voice filled the room. It was four hours before Jo came home. She stopped dead in the doorway, her keys still in her hand, staring at Sam. He had long ago finished playing the tape and was lying on the sofa, his eyes closed, listening to the so strains of the 'Concierto de Aranjuez'. 'How did you get on?' He did not immediately open his eyes. 123 Jo sighed. She dropped her shoulder bag on the floor and banged the door behind her. 'Where's Nick?' Sam's eyes narrowed. 'He felt he should return to make his peace with Judy. I'm sorry.' 'I see.' Jo's voice dropped. 'And he's left you here to pick up the pieces. I suppose I should be grateful he stayed at all last night. I hope he told you I don't need you, Sam. Nothing awful happened. I'm perfectly all right. I did not become incurably insane, nor did I kill anyone as far as I know.' She unbuttoned her jacket wearily. 'When did he leave?' 'Soon after I arrived. He was worried about you Jo.' Sam was watching her closely. 'Nick's a nice bloke. Even if it is all over between you both he wouldn't have left you alone, you know that.' Jo dropped her jacket on a chair and reached for the Scotch bottle on the table by the phone. 'That's right. Good old St Nicholas who never leaves a friend in the lurch. Want one?' Sam shook his head. He watched as she poured; she did not dilute it. 'Have you heard it?' Her eyes had gone past him to the cassette lying on the coffee table. 'Twice.' Her face was pale and drawn he noted, her hair tied back into an uncompromising pony-tail which showed new sharp angles to her cheekbones and shadows beneath her eyes. 'It all happened, Sam.' She raised the glass to her lips. 'I found it so easily. William de Braose, his wife - most books seem to call her Maude - I didn't even know it was the same name as Matilda- their children, the massacre of Aber gavenny. It was all there for anyone to read. Not obscure at all.' She swallowed a mouthful ofwhiaky. 'I must have read about it somewhere before, but I swear to God I don't remember it. I've never studied Welsh history, but all that detail in my mind! It doesn't seem possible, Christ, Sam! Where did it all come from?' Sam had not taken his eyes from her face. 'Where do you think it came from?' She shrugged, flinging herself down on the sofa beside him, tma3ing the glass round and round in her fingers. Sam eyed the length oflightly tanned thigh exposed where her skirt caught on the edge of the cushions. He moved away from her slightly. 'Where would you like it to have come from?' Jo frowned. 'That's a loaded question. Yesterday morning I wouldn't have hesitated to answer it. But now. Matilda was so real to me, Sam. She was me.' She turned to face him 'Was it the same in Edinburgh? Did the same thing happen then too?' He nodded slowly. 'You certainly reacted dramatically under regression. A little too dramaMcally. That was why we decided it would be better ffyou remembered nothing ofwhat happened afterwards.' Jo jumped to her feet. 'You admit it! So you told me to forget it, as flit had never happened. You took it upon yourselves to manipulate my mind! You thought it would be bad for me to know about it, so bang! You wiped it clean like a computer programme!' Her eyes were blazing. Sam smiled placatingly. 'Cool it, Jo. It was for your own good.. No one was manipulating you. Nothing sinister hap petted. It was all taped, just as it was for you yesterday. It's all on the record.' 'But you deliberately destroyed my memory of what happened!' She took a deep breath, trying to control her anger. 'Was I the same person? Matilda de Braose?' 'As far as I remember you didn't tell us what your name was,' Sam said quietly. 'Well, did I talk about the same events? The massacre?' Sam shook his head. 'You were much more vague with us.' He stood up abruptly and walked over to the windows, looking up through the net curtains towards the sky. 'You must not go back to this man, Jo. You do understand that, don't you.' 'Why not?' Her voice was defiant. 'Nothing terrible happened. And he at least is honest with me. He has professional 125 standards.' She threw herself down on the sofa again, resting her head against the cushions. 'Oh sure, it was a bit nerve wracking for him, as it obviously was for you, but I was all right, wasn't I? I didn't seem hysterical, my personality didn't digiategrate. Hothing happened to me.' She looked down at her hamts suddenly then abruptly she put them behind her. s wrong?' Sam had seen her out of the corner of his ey He went over to her and, kneeling, he took both her ,hi He studied the palms intently. Then he turned themaad looked at her nails. She to pull away. 'Sam -' 'y, aren't hurt?' The efeem they're not hurt. Why should they be? Helet go reluctantly, his eyes once more on her face. 'They were injured last time, in Edinburgh,' he said gently. "rl d to bleed.' Sh at him 'There was blood on the floor, wasn't there?' he whispered after a moment. 'I remembered that. And when I got home I found I was covered in bruises.' She stood up, pushing past him. 'I thought I'dhad an accident. But mmehow I never bothered to ask you about it, did I?' She bit her lip, staring at him. 'That was your post-hypnotic tggeiou too, I suppose. "You will not remember how you were injured, nor will you question why." Is that what you said to me? God it makes me so angry! All this has happened to me before and I did not know about it. You snatched an hour or so of my life, Sam, and I want it hack.' She looked down into her glass, her knuckles white as she kneaded it between her fingers. 'It's the thought that these memories, this other life has been lying hidden in me, festering all these years, that frightens me... Wherever they come from, whatever they are, they must mean somethinS special to me, mustn't they?' She paused then she looked away from him. 'Do you know how she died?' Sam's jaw tightened. 'Who?' 'Matilda, of course. They think she was starved to death.' Jo drank the rest of her whisky quickly and put down the glass. She was suddenly shuddering violently. Sam stood up. He caught her arm. 'Jo -' 'No, Sam, it's all right. I know what you're going to say. I'm not about to get obsessive about her. It's me, remember. Levelheaded Jo Clifford. I'm over the shock of it all now, anyway. Reading about it has put it in perspective. All those dry dates and facts. Ugh! Funny how history never seemed to be to do with real people, not to me anyway. At least not until now...' Her voice tailed away. 'when you and Professor Cohen fm ished your experiments, Sam, did you reach any conclusions?' 'We were able to float various hypotheses, shall we say,' Sam smiled enigmatically. 'And they were?' 'Roughly? That different subjects reacted in different ways. We tabulated almost as many theories as there were regression sessions. You must read his book. Some people faked, there was no question about that. Some openly re-enacted scenes from books and films. Some produced what they thought we hoped we would hear. And some were beyond explanation.' 'And which was Joanna Clifford?' 'I think one of the latter.' He gave a wry smile. Jo eyed him thoughtfully. 'I had a feeling you were going to say that. Tell me, Sam, do you believe in reincarnation?' 'No.' 'Then what do you think happens?' 'I have one or two ill-formed and unscientific theories about, shall we say, radio waves trapped in the ether. Some people, when in a receptive state, tune into the right wavelengths and get a bit of playback.' / 'You mean I was actually seeing what happened in 11747' 'An echo of it - a reverberation, shaft we say?. Don't quote me, Jo, for God's sake. I'd be drummed out of every profes sioual body there is. But it does go some way to explain why more than one person gets the same playback on occasions. It explains ghosts as weft, of course. A good all-round theory.' He laughed. 'Have you seen a ghost?' 127 The strain, he noted with satisfaction, had lessened in her face; her neck muscles were no longer so prominent. 'Never! I'm not the receptive type, thank God! You haven't my coffee I suppose, Jo?' He changed the subject thnlffxtlly. 'I mind t regular fLX every two hours or I get withdrawal and it's been twice that at let.' ltoO Sam -' she paused in the doorway, rnnning her up and down the cream-painted woodwork. 'Can you people?' 'I gom on with Cohen's experiments,' he replied carefully. are.others chasing that panic,,tr hare now. Jo grinned. 'You didn't answer my question, Dr Franldyn. 'Ihs dora, yes,' 'And you do it to me?' "Unde no circ,!mnces. Jo -' He imsed groping for the tight words. 'Listen, love. You must not contemplate pursuing this matter. I meant it when Isaid you should not see Carl Bennet again. You must not allow anyone to try and regress you. I am not so concerned about the drama and the psychological stress that you are put under, although that is obviously not good for you. What worries me is the fact that you are prone to physiological reaction. You reflect physically what you are describing. That is very rare. It is also potentially dangerous.' 'You mean if William beat me... her up, I'd wake up with bruises?' 'Exactly.' Sam compressed his tips. 'And if she starved to death?' The question came out as a whisper. There was a pause. Sam looked away. 'I think that is unlikely.' He forced hlm,dfto laugh. 'Nevertheless, it would obviously be foolish to put yourself deliberately at risk. Now, please - coffee?' For a moment Jo did not move, her eyes on his face. Then slowly she turned towards the kitchen. It was dark when Dorothy Franklyn arrived at the flat carrying an armful of roses. A tall, striking woman in her mid sixties, she habitually wore tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses and immaculate Jaeger suits which made her look the epitome of efficiency. She was in fact always slightly disorganised and invariably late for whatever she was trying to do. Jo was enormously fond of her. 'Are you sure you don't mind me dropping in like this, Jo?' she said apologetically as she came in. 'I came up for a matinee and then I had supper but I wanted to leave you the flowers.' She eyed Jo surreptitiously. 'You look tired my dear. Would you rather I just left them and went?' Jo shook her head. She caught the other woman's arm and pulled her into the room. 'Sit down and I'll put the kettle on. You've just missed your son. That's why I'm tired, he took me out to dinner.' Dorothy smiled, her whole face lighting with pleasure. 'Jo! I'm so glad. It broke my heart.when you and he split up -' 'No -' Jo interrupted. 'I meant Sam.' 'Sam?' Dorothy frowned. 'I thought he was in Switzerland.' 'He was. He's stopped off in London for a few days mainly to do a quick psychoanalysis of me, I think.' Jo grinned wryly. 'He's staying at Nick's fiat if you want to see him. Nick,s not there of course, so the fiat is free.' She could feel the other woman's eyes on her face, bright with embarrassment and sympathy, and she forced herself to go on smiling somehow. 'How is Sam?' Dorothy asked after a long pause. 'Fine. He's been giving a paper on some terribly obscure subject. I was very impressed. He took me to tea at the zoo.' She laughed. Dorothy smiled. 'He always says the zoo teaches one so much about people.' She hesitated, eyeing Jo thoughtfully. 129 'He has always been very fond of you, you know, Jo. I don't think you and Nick ever realised how much it hurt Sam when Hick walked off with you. Nick has always found it so easy to have any girl he wanted- I'm sorry, that sounds dreadful, I know you were different - you were special to him. But you !m been special to Sam too.' Jo looked down guiltily. 'I think I did know. It's just that wcmet und such strange circumstances. I was a guinea pig in one of his experiments,' she shivered. 'Our relationship alway eemed a little unreal after that. He was so concerned aboatbat I always had the feeling it was a paternal con cem, mif he were worried about my health.' She paused . "He was, of course. I know that now. Anyway, he wa: or seven and I was only nineteen when we first met. We belonged to different worlds. I did rather fancy him -' She was staring at the roses lying on the table. 'If I'm honest'I suppose I still do. He's an attractive bloke. But then Nick came along ...' She stood up abruptly. 'Let me put these in water or they'll die before our eyes.And I'll make you some coffee.' 'Is it serious, this thing w.th Judy Curzon?' Dorothy's voice was gentle. 'It sounds like it. She is much more his type than I ever was. She's domesticated and artistic and a redhead.' Jo forced herself to laugh. 'Perhaps I should cultivate old Sam now. Better late than never and we seem to have quite a bit in common alier all. It might even make Nick jealous!' Scooping up the flowers she buried her face in the velvet blooms, then she carried them through to the kitchen and dropped them into the sink. Turning the cold tap on full, she turned and saw Dorothy had followed her. She was frowning. 'Jo. Please don't just amuse yourself with Sam. I know it must be tempting to try and hurt Nick, but that's not the way to do it.' She leaned past Jo as water began to splash off the flowers and onto the floor and turned offthe tap,"There's too much rivalry between those two already.' 'Rivalry?' Jo looked astonished. 'But they hardly see each other so how could there be?' 'Sam has resented Nick since the day he was born.' Dorothy absentmindedly picked the petals off a blown rose and threw them into the bin. 'I used to think it was normal sibling rivalry and he'd grow out of it. But it was more than that. He learned to hide it. He even managed to fool Nick and their father that he no longer felt it, but he never fooled me. As he grew up it didn't disappear. It hardened. I don't know why. They are both good looking, they are both confident and brighL Sam is enormously successful in his own field. There is no reason for him to resent Nick at all. At least, there wasn't until you came along.' Jo stared at her. 'I had no idea. None at all. I thought they liked each other. That's awful.' Wearily she pushed the hair off her face. 'I'm sure Nick likes Sam. He told me that he used to worship him when they were children, and I sometimes think that secretly he still does. Look at the way he turned to him when he was worried about me.' She stopped. Had Nick really turned to Sam for help, or was he merely using him oynically to take her offhis hands? She closed her eyes unhappily, trying to picture Sam's face as he kissed her goodnight. It had been a brotherly kiss, no more. Ofthat she was sure. Dorothy had not noticed Jo's sudden silence. With a deep sigh she swept on alter a minute. 'I used to wonder flit was my fault. There was a six-year gap between them, you know, and we were so thrilled when Nick came along. Elder children sometimes think such funny things, that somehow they weren't enough, or that they have failed their parents in some way...' 'But Sam is a psychiatrist!' Jo burst out in spite of herself. 'Even ffhe felt that when he was six, he must be well enough read by now to know it wasn't true. Oh come on Dorothy, have some coffee. This is all too Freudian for me at this time of night.' She plugged in the coffee pot and switched it on. Dorothy reached into the cupboard and brought out two cups. 'Are you seeing Sam again?' Jo nodded. 'On Wednesday evening.' 131 Dorothy frowned. 'Jo. Is k over between you and Hick? I mean, really over?' Jo turned on her, easperated. 'Dorothy stop it! They are grown men, not boys fighting over a toy, for God's sake! I don't know if it's over between me and Hick. Probably, yes. But we are still fond of each other, nothing can change that. Who knows what will happen?' After Dorothy had gone Jo sat staring into space for a long time. Then slowly she got up and poured herselfa drink. She glanced down at the books and notes piled on the table, but she did not touch them. Instead, restlessly, she began to wander round the room. In front of the huge oval mirror which hung over the fireplace she stopped and stared at herself for a long time. Then solemnly she raised her glass. 'To you, Matilda, wherever you are,' she said sadly. 'I'll bet you thought men were bastards, too.' The answerphone was to the point: 'There is no one in the office at the moment. In a genuine emergency Dr Bennet may be reached onLymington four seven three two zero. Otherwise #ease phone again on Monday morning.' Jo slammed down the receiver. She eyed the Scotch bottle on the table, then she turned her back on it and went to stand instead on the balcony in the darkness, smelling the sweet honeyed air of the London garden, cleansed by night of the smell of traffic. It was a long time before she turned and went back inside. Leaving the French windows open she slotted her cassette back into the machine, and switched it on. Then, turning off the lights, she sat down alone in the dark to listen. 11 'Is he here?' Judy was standing in the darkened hallway outside Jo's door with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a loosely belted white dress and thonged sandals which made her look, Jo thought irrelevantly, like a Greek boy. 'Come in and shut up or you'll wake the whole house.' Jo stood back to allow her to enter, as Judy's furious voice wafted up and down the stairwell outside the flat door. It was barely nine o'clock on Sunday morning. The flat was untidy. Cassettes littered the tables and the floor; there were empty glasses lying about and ashtrays full of balf-smoked cigarettes. Jo stared round in distaste. Beside the typewriter on the coffee table there was a pile of papers and notes where she had been typing most of the night. Books were stacked on the carpet, and overflowing onto the chairs. She threw open the French windows and took a deep breath of cool morning air. Then she turned to Judy. 'If it's Hick you've lost, I'm afraid you're out of luck. He's not here. I haven't seen him since yesterday morning.' She went through into the kitchen and reached into the fridge. 'Do you want some coffee?' she called. Judy looked taken aback. 'He said he was coming back here.' She followed Jo into the kitchen uncertainly. 'Well he plainly didn't come.' Jo reached down a large jug off the cupboard and stuffed the roses from the sink into it. 'Aren't these lovely? Nick's mother brought them up from Hampshire for me yesterday.' Judy's jaw tightened fractionally. 'I have never met his mother.' 'Oh you will. She is already on your trail. Every girlfriend has to be vetted and approved and then cultivated.' Jo leaned against the counter and looked Judy straight in the eye. 'Have you come for a fight? Because if you have, I'm in the right mood. I haven't slept for two nights, I've a foul headache and I am fed up with people coming here to look for Nick Franklyn.' 133 'Do you still love him?' Judy tried hard to hold her gaze. Jo snorted. 'What kind of naive question is that? Do you really think I'd tell you if I did?' Behind her the coffee began to perk. She ignored.it. 'At this moment I wish both Sam and Nick Franklyn at the other end of the earth, and if it makes you happy I will cordially wish you there with them. But I should like to say one thing before you go there. If you decide to make any more inventive little statements to the press about my sanity or lack of it, be very careful what you say, because I shall sue you for slander and then I shall come to your happy love nest in Fulham and knot some of your oh so original and outstandingly beautiful paintings around your pretty little neck.' Judy retreated a step. 'There is no need to be nasty about it. I didn't know anyone was listening. And I only repeated what Nick said -' 'I am well aware of what Nick said,' Jo said quietly. She turned and took two mugs out of the cupboard. 'You'll have to have your coffee black. I haven't been out for milk yet.' 'I don't want any coffee.' Judy backed out of the kitchen. 'I don't want anything from you. I'm not surprised Nick couldn't wait to get away from here!' She turned to the front door and dragged it open. Behind them the phone in the living room began to ring. Jo ignored it as she unplugged the coffee pot. 'Shut the door behind you,' she called over her shoulder. Judy stopped in her tracks. 'Sam told me you're schizophrenic,' she shouted, 'did you know that? He said that you'll be locked up one of these days. And they'll throw away the key!' She paused as if hoping for a response. When none came she walked out into the hall and slammed the door. Jo could hear her footsteps as she ran down the stairs outside. Moments later she heard the porch door bang. Behind her the phone was still ringing. Dazed, Jo moved towards it and picked up the receiver. Her hands were shaking. 'Jo? I thought you weren't there!' The voice on the other end was indignant. Jo swallowed. She was incapable of speaking for a moment. 'Jo dear? Are you all right?' The voice persisted. 'It's me, Ceecliffl.' Jo managed to speak at last. 'I know, Grandma. I'm sorry. My voice is,a bit husky. Is that better?' She cleared her throat noisily. 'How nice to hear you. How are you?' 'I am fine as always.' The tones were clipped and direct. Celia Clifford was a vivacious and attractive woman of seventy-six who, in spite of the alternate cajoling and threats of her town dwelling daughter-in-law and granddaughter, lived completely alone in a rambling Tudor farmhouse in the depths of Suffolk. Jo adored her. Ceecliff was her special property; her refuge; her hidden vice; the shoulder that tough abrasive Jo Clifford could cry on andno one would ever know. 'You sound a bit odd, dear,' Ceecliff went on briskly. 'You're not smoking again are you?' Jo looked ruefully at the ashtray beside the phone. 'I'm trying not to,' she said. 'Good. And nothing is wrong?' Jo frowned. 'Why should anything be wrong?' There was a chuckle at the other end of the line. 'There shouldn't. I jusrwanted to make sure that you didn't have any excuses up your sleeve. You're coming to lunch here, Jo, so you'd better get ready to leave within half an hour.' Jo laughed. 'I can't come all the way to Suffolk for lunch,' she protested. 'Of course you can. Take off those dreadful jeans and put on a pretty dress, then get in the car. You'll be here by one.' 'How did you know I had jeans on?' Jo had begun to smile. 'I'm psychic.' Ceecliff's tone was dry. 'Now, no more talking. Just come.' There was a click as she rang off and Jo was left staring down at the receiver in her hand. Bet Gunning turned over in bed and ran a languid hand over Tim Heachsm's chest. 'Much drunker, and you wouldn't have been able to make it, my friend.' 135 Tim groaned. 'iF i had been much drunker, you could have been accused of necrophilia! If you have any sense of decency at all, Ms Gunning, you'll f'LX me one of your magic prairie oysters in the kitchen and shut up.' Laughing, Bet sat up and lazily pulled on Tim's discarded shirt over her lean figure. She wrinkled her nose fastidiously. 'My God. This stinks!' 'Sweat, I expect.' Tim closed his eyes. 'Your fault for getting me so excited. Stick it under the shower and turn the tap on it. You can have special dispensation to wear my monogrammed bathrobe.' He stretched luxuriously and Bet gve him an old-fashioned look as she padded out to the kitchen but she said nothing. She was too content. In a few moments she was back with a tray containing two coffee mugs and a glass. She watched as Tim drank down the mixture pulling a series of agotxised faces, then she held out her hand for the #ass. 'Now. Coffee and then a cold shower. That will get you compos mentis.' 'Sadistic bitch.' Tim patted her knee fonlly as she sat down next to him. 'Is this what makes you such a good editor? Rouse them, satisfy them, give them their medicine, kiss them better and send them away!' She laughed. 'So you think I sleep with my staffas well?' 'It's the general word. And all your ancillary acolytes - like me. But only the men, of course, as far as I know.' Bet reached forward and ragged his hair. 'Shut up, Tim! Now if you want to talk shop tell me how you are getting on with Jo's pictures. Have you started on them yet?' 'Ofcourse. But I thought the deadline wasn't for months.' 'It isn't.' Bet inserted her legs beneath the sheet next to his and ran an exploratory fmger across his solar plexus. Tim flopped back against the pillows and pushed her hand away. 'No go, love. Don't even hope. I've had it!' He grinned at her fondly. 'I took some super pictures of a woman being hypnotised to think she was a nineteenth-century street girl. I'll show you the contacts. The only trouble with that article from my point of view is that however #amorous and exciting the stories these people are telling, basically they are still just Mr and Mrs Bloggs sitting there in a chir. But it is a tremendous challenge - t9 catch those faces and make your readers see in them the reflection of whatever character is inhabiting the person's mind at that moment.' 'If anyone can do it, you can.' Bet lay back on her elbow beside him and reached for her cup. 'You know Jo was regressed herself once?' 'Yes. She told me about it. It was a failure. All that gulf Judy sounded offwas jealous rubbish.' Bet shook her head. 'Not so. Nick talked to me aboutit a couple of weeks back. He begged me to kill the article. According to him Jo nearly died under hypnosis.' Tim sat up. 'For Christ's sake ' Bet smiled. 'He overreacts. It would make a better article, you must aclmit ifJo could say it had happened to her. I have a feeling it could be a tremendous story when she gets round to it. Jo is nothing if not honest. If something strange happens to her she'll write about it.' 'Even if it's published posthumously?' Tim swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. 'My God, Bet! I thought you were Jo's friend! Would you really want something awful to happen to her just to make a good story?' He reached for his trousers and pulled them on. 'Bloody hell!' Bet laughed. 'Don't be so dramatic. I want some action. I want to see Jo up against something she can't debunk, just for once. I want to see how she handles an article which really stirs her up. It'll do her good. I suspect Nick resents her success. He's jealous of her independence. That's why they split up, so a plea from him to call off the article comes over to me as very suspicious. She doesn't need his help - or his hindrance. Oh yes, I am her friend, sweetie, probably her best friend.' 'Then God help her.' Tim ragged open a drawer and pulled out a black cashmere sweater, drawing it down awkwardly over his head. 'With you and Judy Curzon for friends who else does she need!' 136 137 'Well there's always you, isn't there?' Bet took another sip from her coffee. 'You wouldn't be entertaining me so enthusiastically if you thought you could lay your sticky little hands on our Jo, would you, my love?' Tim flushed a dusky red as he turned away. 'Crap. Jo's never had eyes for anyone but Nick .since I've known her.' He stared into the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair. 'More fool her then, because Nick is playing the field. Where are you going?' 'Sunday or not, I have work to do. Are you going to cook me lunch?' Bet stretched, snuggling back under the covers. 'Why not? Who were you in your previous life, Tim, do you know?' Tim turned and looked down at her. 'Funnily enough I thinl I do.' Bet's eyes grew round. 'You are joking?' 'No.' 'Well?' She sat up, the sheet pulled up tightly round her breasts. 'Who were you?' He grinned. 'If I told you that, my love I'd regret the indiscretion for the rest of my life. Now, you may go back to sleep for exactly forty-one minutes, then you get up and put the joint on. I should be finished in the darkroom in an hour.' With a wave he ducked out of the bedroom and ran down the spiral stairs to the studio below. The north London traffic was heavy, and Jo was impatient, but she was so preoccupied she barely noticed the queneing cars and the heavy pall of fumes under the brassy blue sky. It was not until eventually the road widened and the cars began to thin that she started to relax and look round her. The air became lush with country summer: blossom, thick and scented on the trees, rich new green leaves, hedgerows smothered in cow parsley and hawthorn, while overhead the sky arched in an intensity of blue that never showed itself .in London. Jo smiled to herself, turning off the main road to make her way through the lanes towards Long Melford. She always felt light-headed and free when she arrived in Suffolk. Perhaps it was the air or the thought of seeing Ceecliff, or perhaps it was only the fact that she was nearly always faint with hunger by the time she reached her grandmother's house. She turned down the winding drive which led towards the mellow, pinkwashed house and drew up slowly outside the front door. Nick's Porsche was parked in the shade beneath the chestnut tree. She sat and stared at it for a moment, then angrily she threw open the car door and climbed out. Nick must have heard the scrunch of her car tyres on the gravel for he appeared almost at once around the corner of the house. He was in shirt-sleeves, looking relaxed and rested as he grinned at her and raised his hand in greeting. 'You're just in time for a'drink.' 'What are you doing here?' Her anger had evaporated as fast as it had come and there was a strange tightness in her throat as she looked at him. Hastily she turned away to pull her bag out of the car. She held it against her chest and wrapped her arms around it defensively. 'I needed to talk to your grandmother, so I rang her up and came down last night.' He stopped six feet from her, looking at her closely. She had unfastened her hair, letting it fall loosely over her shoulders in an informal style which suited her far better than her usual severe line, and she had changed into a soft clinging dress of peacock blue silk before leaving home. She looked, Nick thought suddenly, very fragile and very beautiful. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her. 'She's in the garden at the back with the sherry bottle. Come on round.' 'What was so important you suddenly have to drive out to Suffolk to talk about it?' Jo asked mildly. Nick was silent fora moment, still staring at her. Then he shook his head slowly. 'I thought I'd do some research for you.' He grinned. 'Guess who came from Clare, just round the corner?' He began t.o lead the way acrms the gravel. Jo followed him. 'You came here to check on that?' she said Nick shrugged. 'Well no, not exactly. I wanted to talk 139 mainly. And I admit it, I told Ceecliff not to say anything about me when she rang you. I wanted to talk to you too and I thought you might not come if you knew I was here.' 'It's alpRY she didn't mention you,' Jo retorted. 'Your was with me when she rang. You could have had a with her and put her mind at rest. She clearly thought I ltidden you under my bed.' 'Judy was at your flat this morning?' Nick frowned. Jo had begun to walk towards the garden at the back of the house. The grass was soft, scented beneath her sandals, with patches of damp velvety moss and strewn with daisies. 'She was just telling me that your brother had confided to her that I was schizophrenic and would need to be locked up soon.' Nick laughed. 'I hope you didn't believe her. I'm afraid you .seem to bring out the worst in Judy.' He was following her now, round the corner of the house. 'Jo, I think there's something I should explain. Wait a minute, please.' He caught her arRI. 'There's no explaining to do, Nick.' JoAurned to him, pulling herselffree. 'You and I have split up:You have a new woman in your life. The night before last you were kind enough to help me out for old times' sake, when I was feeling a bit frayed, but as soon as someone else turned up to sort me out, you went back to Judy. End of story. Lucky Judy. Only I wish you would explain to her she need not feel so insecure.' She could feel a sudden warm breeze stirring her hair as she walked on towards the walnut tree near the willow-shaded pond where her grandmother was sitting in a deck-chair. On the horizon white cumulus was benning to ma- into tall thunderheads. She bent and kissed CeecliiPs cheek. 'That was unfair to trap me into coming here. Nick and I have nothing to talk about.' Ceecliff surveyed her from piercingly bright dark eyes. 'I would have thought you had a great deal to talk about. And if he hasn't, I have! Nick has told me about your amaT.ing experiences, Jo.' She reached up and took her granddaughter's hand. 'I want to hear all about them. You mustn't be frightened of what happened. You have been privileged.' Jo stared at her. 'You sound as if you believe in reincarnation.' 'I think I must. Of a kind.' Ceecliff smiled. 'Come on. Sit down and have a sherry and relax. You're as taut as a wire! Nicholas came up last night to talk to me about you. He was worried that you're trying to do too much, Jo. And I agree with him. From what he's told me, I think you need to rest. You must not try and venture into your past again.' 'Oh, so that's it.' Jo levered herself back out of the deck- chair she had settled into. 'He came here to get you to talk me out ofgoing on with my researches. Part of the great Franldyn conspiracy. I wish you would all get it into your heads that this is no one's business but mine. What I do with my mind and my memory, or whatever it is, is my affair. I am a sober, consenting, rational adult. I make my own decisions.' Ceecliff was looking up at her as she talked. She grinned impishly. 'There you are, Nicholas. I told you she'd say that.' Nick shrugged ruefully. 'You did. But it was worth a try.' He handed Jo a glass. 'So come on, Jo. You haven't told us whether you found anything out in the library yesterday. We are all agog.' Jo stared at him in feigned astonishment. 'Are you telling me now that you're interested? You amaze me! You weren't so interested yesterday when you couldn't wait to leave and go back to Judy!' She had forgotten her grandmother, seated 'I only went because Sam said I had to, for God's sake!' Nick's face was flushed with anger. 'Don't you think I wanted to stay? If he hadn't pulled rank and reminded me you were his patient I'd have waited all day to make sure you were all right.' Jo put her glass down on the tray so abruptly the sherry spilled onto the silver, spattering into amber droplets. 'He said I was his patient?' she echoed. Her face had gone white. Cercliff had been watching them both intently. 'I'm sure he didn't mean it literally, dear,' she put in hastily. 'I expect 141 he meant that as you had both called him in for his advice he would like the opportunity oftalldng to Jo alone.' 'I didn't call him in!' Jo glared at Nick repressively. 'It was Nick's idea.' 'Because he is obviously enormously concerned about you.' Stiffly CceclRTpulled herselfo her feet. 'Now, no more fighting, children. I wish o cnioy my lunch. Come inside and later Jo can tell us what she found out about her Matilda.' They took their coffee in the conservatory at the back of the house as huge clouds massed and foamed over the garden, blotting out a sky which had become brazen with heat. Ceecliffsent Nick out to bring in the garden chairs as the rain began to fall in huge sparse drops, pitting the surface of the pond. Then she turned to Jo. 'You're going to drive that young man straight into her arms, you know!' Jo was pouring the coffee, frowning with concentration as she handled the tall silver pot. 'It's where he wants to be.' 'No, Jo, it isn't. Can't you see it?' Ceecli leaned forward and helped herself to a cup from the tray. 'You are being very stubborn. Especially as you obviously love him. you do, don't you?' Jo sat down on the window-seat, her hack to the garden. 'I don't know,' she said bleakly. Her hands were lying loosely in her lap. She stared blankly down at them, suddenly overwhelmingly tired. 'I'm not sure what I feel any more about anyone. I'm not sure I even know what I feel about myself.' 'That's ridiculous.' Ceecliffleaned forward and picking up Jo's cup put it into her hands. 'Drink that and listen to me. You're getting things out of perspective.' 'Am I?' Jo bit her tip. 'Either Nick or Sam lied to me andI don't know which.' 'All men are liars, Jo.' Ceecliff smiled sadly. 'Haven't you discovered that yet?' The rain was growing stronger now, releasing the warm scents of wet earda which reached them even through the conservatory windows. Jo could see Nick hastily stacking the deck-chairs in the summerhouse. 'That's a bit cynical, even for you, Grandma.' She reached forward and touched the old woman's hand as Nick sprinted back towards them across the grass. Behind him the horizon flickered and shifted slightly before Jo's eyes. She blinked, watching as he opened the door and came in, shaking himself like a dog. He was laughing as she handed him a cup of coffee. 'You're soaked, Nick,' she said sharply. 'You'd better take off your shirt or you'll get pneumonia or something.' He spooned some sugar into the cup and sat down beside her. 'It'll soon dry off, it's so hot. Go on with what you were telling us at lunch, Ceecliff, about Jo's grandfather.' Ceecliff leaned back against the cushions on her chair. 'I wish you remembered him better, Jo, but you were only a little girl when he died. He used to love talking about his ancestors and the Clifford family tree, which was more of a forest, he used to say. The trouble is I never used to listen all that carefully. It bored me. It was about yesterday and I wanted to live today.' She paused as another zigzag oflighming flickered behind the walnut tree. 'I didn't realise how soon the present becomes the past. Perhaps I'd have listened more if I had.' She laughed ruefully. 'Sorry. You'll have to allow for an old lady's maudlin tendencies. Now, what I was saying was that hearing you talking about your Willi-m de Braose being a baron on the Welsh borders reminded me that of course that is where the Clifford family originally came from. I'll fred Reggie's papers and give them to you, Jo. You might as well have them and you may fred them interesting now you have decided the past could have something to recommend it, even if it is only a handsome son of the Clares.' Again the impish twinkle. She sighed. 'But now you are going to have to excuse me because I am going to lie down for a couple of hours. One of the compensations of old age is being able to admit to being tired-and then do something about it.' With Nick's help she pulled herself out of the low chair in which she had been sitting and walked hack slowly through into the house. 143 'She's not tired,' Jo said as soon as she was out of hearing. 'She has ten times more energy than I have.' 'She thinks she is being tactful.' Nick stooped over the tray and poured him.self another cup of coffee. 'She thinks we should be given the chanc to be alone.' 'How wrong she is then,' Jo said quickly. She flinched as another shaft oflighming crossed the sky. It was followed by a distant rumble of thunder. 'There's nothing we need to talk about that she wouldn't be welcome m join in.' The heaviness of the aemoon was closing over her, dragging her down. Her eyelids were leaden. She forced them open. Nick was Standing with his hack to her, looking at the rain sweeping in across the garden. 'I do have to talk to you alone,' he said slowly. 'And I think you know it.' Jo moved across to her grandmother's vacated cha-ir and threw herself into it. 'Well, now is not the.moment. Oh God, how I hate thunder! It's thundered practically every day this week!' Nick turned and looked at her. 'You never used to mind it.' 'Oh, I don't mean I'm afraid of it. It just makes me feel so headachy and tense. Perhaps I'm just tired. I was working all last night.' She dosed her eyes. Nick put down his cup. He moved to stand behind her chair grad, gently resting his hands on her shoulders, he began to msage the back of her neck with his thumbs. Jo relaxed, feeling the warmth of his fingers through the thin silk of her dress, the circling motion easingthe pain in her head as a squall of wind beneath the storm centre sent a flurry of rain against the giass of the conservatory. Suddenly she stiffened. For a moment she could not breathe. She tried to open her eyes but the hands on her shoulders had slipped forward, encircling her throat, pressing her windpipe till she was choking. She half rose, grasping at his wrists, fighting him in panic, clawing at his face and arms, then, as another rumble of thunder cut through the heat of the afternoon she felt herself falling. Frantically she tried to catch her breath, but it was no use. 144 Her arms were growing heavy and there was a strange buzzing in her ears. I'hy, Nick, why? Her lips fremec[, the words, but no sound came as slowly she began the long spiral down into suffocating blackness. 145 12 Two faces swam before her gaze. Absently she tried to focus on them, her mind groping with amorphous images as first one pair of eyes and then the other floated towards her, merged, then drifted apart once more. The mouths beneath the eyes were moving. They were speaking, but she couldn't hear them; she couldn't think. All she could feel was the dull pain of the contusions which fogged her throat. Experimentally she tried to speak, but nothing happened as she raised a hand towards one of the faces - the blue eyes, the red-gold moustache, the deep furrowed lines across the forehead coming sharply into focus. It drew back out of reach and she groped towards the other. It was younger, smoother, the eyes tighter. 'I've phoned Dr Graham.' A woman's voice spoke near her, the diction clear, echoing in the hollow spaces of her head. 'He was at home, thank God, not on that damn golf course! He'll be here in five minutes. How is she?' , Jo frowned. Ceecliff. That was Ceecliff, standing close to her, behind the two men. She breathed in slowly and saw her grandmother's face near hers. Swallowing painfully, she tried once more to speak. 'What happened?' she managed to murmur after a moment. As Ceecliffsat down beside her Jo realised she was lying on the sofa in the dimly lit living room. Her grandmother's cool, dry hand took hers. 'You fainted, you silly girl. Just like a Victorian Miss!' 'Who's there?' Jo looked past her into the shadows. 'It's me, Jo.' Nick's voice was taut. 'Why is it so dark?' Jo levered herself up against the cushions, her head spinning. 'There's the mother and father of a storm going on, dear,' Ceectiff said after a moment. 'It's dark as doomsday in here. Put the lights on, Nick.' Her voice sharpened. The three table lamps threw a warm, wintry light in the humid bleakness of the room. Through the.window-panes the sound of the rain was deafening on the broad leaves of the hostas in the bed outside. 'where's the doctor?' Jo stared round. 'He's not here yet, Jo.' Ceecliffsmiled at her gravely. 'But I saw him -' 'No, dear.' Ceecliff glancedat Nick. 'Listen. That must be his car now.' Above the sound of the rain they could all hear the scrunch of tyres on the gravel. Moments later the glass door of the entrance hall opened and a stout figure let him.elf into the hsil. Ceectiff stood up. She met David Graham in the dim heavily-beamed dining room, which smelled ofpot pourri and roses, and put her fmger to her tips. 'It's my granddaughter, David,' she murmured as he shook himself like a dog and shed his Burberry on the mellow oak David Graham was a fair-haired man of about sixty, dressed, despite the heat, in a tweed jacket and woollen tie. He kissed her fondly. 'It's probably the storm, Celia. They affect some people like this, you know. Unless it's your cooking. You haven't been giving her that curry you gave Jocelyn and me, have you?' He did not wait to see her mock indignation. His case in his ba-nd, he was already moving towards the door of the tiring room. Nick smiled down at Jo uncertainly. 'I'll leave you both to it, shall I?' 'Please.' David Graham looked at him searchingly for a moment, noting the tension of Nick's face- tension and exhaustion, and something else. Putting down his case beside Jo, he waited until Nick had closed the door behind him. Guilt, that was it; Nick Franldyn had looked guilty. He sat down beside Jo and grinned at her, picking up her wrist. 'Do you make a habit of this sort of thing, my dear?' he asked quietly. Jo shook her head. 'It's never happened before. I'm 147 bei'nning to feel such a fraud. It's just the storm, I'm sure. They always make me feel smmg up and headachy.' 'And you're not pregnant as far as you know?' He smiled. 'Certainly not! And before you ask I've given up smoking. Nearly.' 'There's something wrong with your throat?' She moved away from him slightly on the sofa. 'A bit pinul, that's all. I expect I'm getting a cold.' 'Humph.' The doctor bent to open his bag. He withdrew a wooden spatula. 'Open up. Let's have a look shall we?' Her throat was agony. Not sore. Not raw, but bruised and aching. Without registering any emotion at all the doctor put down the spatula and reached for a thermometer. When it was in her mouth he brought his hands up gently to her neck and, brushing aside her hair, he felt beneath her ears and under her chin with cool impersonal fingers. Jo could feel her hands shaking. 'What is it?' she said as soon as she could speak. He held the thermometer up to the gree, n-shaded table lamp and squinted viciously as he tried to see the mercury. 'I'm always telling Celia to get some proper lights in this dlmn morn. In the evening you can't tell your gin from the goldfish water. It is thirty-seven which is exactly what it ought to be. Your pulse is a bit above average for a Sunday afternoon, even in a storm, though. Let's try some blood pressure .hill we?' 'But my throat?' Jo said. 'What's wrong with my throat?' 'lqoting that I can see.' He was rommaging in his case. 'Where does it hurt?' 'It aches. Here.' She raised her hand to her neck while her eyes focused on the little pump in his hand as he inflated the cuffam, nd her arm. It Was all coming back to her. She had been in the conservatory with Nick. He had stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, then slowly he - or somebody - had slid them up around her throat and begun to squeeze ... She could remember what happened quite clearly now. It was Nick. It had to have been Nick. No one else was there. Nick had tried to kill her! She felt sick. Nick wouldn't hurt her. k wasn't possible. It must have all been some hideous nightmare. She swallowed painfully. But it was too real for a nightmare. She realised suddenly that the doctor was watching her face and turned away sharply. 'Is it high?' she asked as he folded away his equipment. 'A little, perhaps. Nothing to get excited about.' He paused. 'Something is wrong, my dear, isn't it? You look worried. Is there something you ought to be telling me?' She shook her head. 'Nothing, Dr Graham. Except that perhaps I should own up to a few late nights, working. I expect that could make me feel a bit odd, couldn't it?' He frowned. 'I expect it could.' He waited as though he expected her to say more. When she didn't he went on, 'I can't explain the throat. Perhaps you're getting one of these summer viruses. Gargle. That will help, and I suggest you take it easy for a bit. Spend a few days here, perhaps.' Smiling, he stood up. 'Not that Celia is my idea of a peaceful companion, but this is a good house to rest in. It's a happy house. Better than London, I'll be bound. If it happens again, go and see your own doctor.' " 'Thank you.' Pushing herself up, Jo managed to stand. Outside the window there was another pale flicker of lightning. 'I'm sorry my Grandmother called you out in this.' He laughed as he picked up his case. 'If she hadn't I'd have slept through it and kicked myself for not closing the vents in the greenhouse, so she did me a favour! Now, remember what I said. Take it easy for a bit. And do see your own doctor if you go on feeling at all unwell...' He gave her a piercing glance, then with a nod he turned to the door. As soon as he had stepped out into the hall Jo turned to the sideboard. The lamp shed a green, muted light behind it towards the mirror, and tipping the shade violently so that the nked fight of the bulb shone onto her face Jo stood on tiptoe, peering at the glass. Her reflection was white and stark, her eyes shadowed and huge in the uncompromising light. 149 Leaning forward she held her hair up away from her neck and peered at it. Her skin looked normal. There were no marks there. 'Jo! You're burning the silk on that shade!' Ceecliff's cry made her jump. Hastily she put it straight, noticing guiltily the brown mark already showing on the lining. She could smell the scorched fabric. 'What on earth were you doing?' 'Just looking at my throat.' Jo glanced behind her grandmother. 'Where is Nick?' 'He's holding an umbrella over David while he gets in the car. I suppose you won't do what David suggests and stay here for a few days?' Jo sighed. 'You know I can't. I'm too busy.' 'Then you'll have some tea before you let Nick drive you home -' 'No!' Ceecliff stared at her in astonishment. 'Jo dear -' 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so abrupt.' Jo swallowed. 'It's just that I don't want Nick to drive me?" 'Well you can't drive yourself, Joey. David was quite clear about that.' Ceecliff's tone was surprisingly firm. 'You stay here or you go with Nick.' Jo glanced towards the door. Her lips had gone dry. She took a deep breath. 'Who was the man in here as I came round?' Ceecliff had turned away, patting her injured lampshade with a proprietorial hand. 'There was no one else in here, Jo. Only Nick and I.' Jo crossed to the door, steadying herself with her hand on the back of a chair. Swiftly she closed it. Leaning against it she looked at Ceecliff. 'Someone tried to strangle me this afternoon.' Her grandmother pursed her lips..'Jo, dear -' 'I am not imAning it. Out there in the conservatory. Nick was m-aging my shoulders. Then-' she shrugged wildly. 'Someone tried to kill mel' 'Nick was the only person there, Jo.' Ceecliff came towards her slowly and put her hands on Jo's arms. 'Are you accusing Nick?' She was scandalised. 'No, of course not,' Jo's voice had fallen to a whisper. 'Did you tell David all this?' 'I said my neck hurt.' Jo shook her head. 'I think he would have been able to tell, Jo, if anyone had tried to kill you. There would have been bruises on your throat for one thing,' Ceecliff moved towards the sofa and sat down on the edge of it. 'I think Nick was right to be worried about this hypnosis, Jo. You are too susceptible -' Jo flung herself away from the door. 'This has nothing to do with the hypnosis! I wasn't imagining it! You would know .if someone had tried to kill you!' She put her hands to her "throat. 'There was someone else there. Someone else, Ceecliff. It can't have been Nick. He wouldn't ... He wouldn't want to kill me. Besides, there was someone else in the room when 1 woke up. You must have seen him. You must! For God's sake, he was standing right behind Nick!' 'Joey, there was no one there,' Ceecliffsaid gently. 'Ifthere had been, I would have seen him.' 'You think I'm imagining it?' 'I think you're tired, emotionally upset, and what we as children used to call thunder-strung.' Ceecliffsmiled. She turned as Nick pushed open the door. He went straight to Jo, who had tensed nervously as he came into the room. 'How are you?' he asked. 'I'm free, thanks.' She forced herself to smile at him. 'But she is going to let you drive her back, Nick, after you've both had some tea,' Ceecliffsaid firmly. 'She can come and pick up her car another time.' Jo swallowed. Her eyes had gone automatically to Nick's hands, resting on the back of the chair. They were firm, strong hands, tanned from sailing, slightly stained now with lichen from the rain-soaked wood of the summerhouse door. As if feeling her gaze on them Nick slipped them into the pockets of his jeans. 'Are you sure you're OK?' he asked. 'I've 151 never had a woman faint at my feet before. It was all very dramatic. And you still look very pale.' Ceecliff stood up. 'She's fine,' she said firraly. 'You know where the kitchen is, Nick? Go and put the kettle on for me, there's a dear. I'll be out in a minute.' As he le the room, Jo caught her hand. 'Don't tell Nick what I said, will you. He'll think it is something to do with the hypnosis too, and I'm not going to fight with him all the way back to London.' Ceecliff smiled. 'I shan't tell him, Jo. But I think you should,' she said slowly. 'I reallythink you should.' The storm crackled viciously across Hyde Park, highlighting the lush green of the trees against the bruised sky. Sam stood looking out of the window of Nick's fiat in South Audley Street feeling the claustrophobia of London all around him. He sighed. If it weren't for that keyhole glimpse of the park up the narrow street in front of the fiat, he would not be able to stay here. It odmed attd restored the quiet sanity of self perception. He spared a moment's regretl thought for his hihq:eilinged fiat in Edinburgh with its glorious view across the Queen's Park towards the Salisbury Crags, then turning from the window he drew the curtAin. against the storm and switched on the lighL Throwing himself down on the sofa he picked up his third glass of Scotch and reached for the pile of books stacked on the coffee table. The first which came to hand was A History of I'als by John Edward Lloyd, M.A., volume two. Turning to the index he began to look for William de Braose. 'What the hell is wrong, Jo?' Nick glanced across at her as he swung the car at last onto the MII. The windscreen wipers were cutting great arcs in the wet carpets of rain which swept towards them off the road. For the second time, as he reached forward to slot a new cassette into place, he had noticed.her shrink away from his hand. And she was obviously having trouble with her throat. With an effort she smiled. 'Sorry. I'm still feeling rather odd. My head is splitting.' She closed her eyes as the car filled with the bright cold notes of Vivaldi. Don't talk. Don't let him see you're afraid. It did not happen. It was a hallucination - or imagination. Nick is no killer and the other.., the face with the hard, angry blue eyes and the beard. It was not a face she knew. Not from this world, nor from that other time of wind and snow and spinning distances. It was not William, nor the young and handsome Richard. It was a double vision; a dream. Part of the dream where someone had tried to kill her. Something out of her own imagination, like the pain. 'The traffic is building.' Nick's voice hung for a moment in the silence, coming from a long way away as the tape came to an end. He leaned forward and switched it off before it had a chance to start playing again. 'You should have stayed with Celia. You're worn out, you know.' She forced her eyes open, realising that the engine was idling. Cars were round them on every side; the end-of weekend rush back to London, earlier than usual because of the bad weather, had brought the traffic.to a standstill. 'You've been asleep.' He glanced across at her. 'Do you feel any better?' The light in the sky was already fading. Jo eased her position sfightly in the seat. 'I'll be OK. I'm sorry I'm being such a nuisance. I can't think what came over me.' 'That damn hypnosis came over you.' Nick eased the car forward a few yards behind the car in front and braked. HIS elbow out of the open window, he drummed his f'mgers in irritation on the roof above his head. 'I hope this has finally convinced you, Jo, of the idiocy of persisting with this research. Sam must have spelled out the risks for you.' Jo coloured angrily. 'What the devil has my fainting to do with the fact that I was hypnotised a couple of days ago? Oh Nick, drop the subject, please!' She hunched her shoulders defensively. How was it possible to feel so many conflicting emotions for the man sitting next to her? Love. Anger. Despair. And now fear. Real fear, 153 which would not listen to the reason which told her it was groundless. She knew Nick had not tried to kill her. The thought was farcical. But if not his, then whose were the hands which had encircled her neck? And if they had been imaginary, then why had she imagined them? Perhaps he was right. Perhaps being hypnotised had some delayed effect. Some dangerous, delayed effect. She shuddered violently. Half of her wanted to beg Nick to pull onto the hard daoulder and put his arms around her and hold her safe, but tttas the glanced towards him she felt again that irrational . of fear. , k,m another hour before they turned into Cornwall Garden,She had already extricated her key from her bag and was it tightly in her hand as the car drew to a halt and emng,the door open. 'Please, Nick, don't come in.' threw herselfouto the pavement. 'I'm going to trite anarin and go to bed. I'll carl you, OK?' She slammed the door and ran towards the steps, not looking round to see if he feL,,t,med. She had banged the front doorthut behind her before he had levered hlmelfout of the car. Nick shrugged. He stood where hewas in the middle of the road, his bond resting on thecar's roof, waiting until he saw the lights go on in the room behind the first floor balcony doors, then he climbed back in and drove away. He was very worried. Jo double-locked the door behind her. Throwing down her bag the went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Flu. It had to be flu. That would explain everything. A horrible, vicious summer flu which had given her a few fleeting moments of delinm before changing direction and locating in her throat. She found a Beecham's Powder in the back of the cupboard and tipped it into a glass, t'filing it up with hot water. Carrying the glass into the bathroom the turned on the taps full and began to take off her dress. The mirror steamed over. As she stepped into the warm silky water the could feel her headache already be#nning to relax its grip and cautiously she sipped the liquid. It made her feel slightly sickl but the forced herself to drink it all and then the lay back, staring up at the fawn patterned tiles on the bathroom walls with their delicate misty swirls. It was twenty minutes before she walked slowly into her bedroom, wrapped in her bathrobe, and pulled the heavy sash windows up. Outside, the night was very warm and still. Darkness had come early with the heavy cloud and there was an tlmost tropical humidity about the air. She could hear the sound of flamenco coming from the mews and, suddenly, a roar of laughter out of the dark. Half drawing the curtain. the switched on her bedside light with a sigh and untied her bathrobe, slipping it from her bare shoulders. The light was dim and the small antique mirror which stood on her low chest was the other side of the room, but even from where she stood the could see. Her body was evenly tanned save for the slight bildni mark, but now there were other marks, marks which had not been there before. Her neck was swollen, and covered with angry bruises. For a moment she could not move. She could not breathe. She stood transfixed, her eyes on the mirror, then she ran naked to the bathroom, dragging the main pull-switch on, flooding the room with harsh cold light from the fluorescent strip in the ceiling. She grabbed her bath towel and frantically scrubbed at the condensation which still clung to the large mirror, then she looked at herself again. Her neck was violently bruised. She could even make out the individual f'mgermarks in the contusions on the front ofher throat. She stared at herself for a long time before walking slowly tothe living room and, kneeling down beside the phone which still lay on the coffee table, she did not even realise she had memorised Carl Bennet's number until she had dialled it. There was a series of cricks, then the answering machine spoke. Jo slrnmed the receiver down and glanced up at the clock on her desk. It was nearly midnight. For a moment the contemplated ringing Sam. Her f'mgers hovered over the dil then her hands dropped to her sides. 155 Nick might have gone back to the fiat, and besides, she knew without a shadow of doubt that whatever Sam or Nick might think she had made up her mind to return to Carl Bennet. Slowly she made her way hack towards her bedroom. She was shaking violently, beads of perspiration standing out on her forehead. Somewhere in the distance she heard a rumble of thunder. The storm was coming back. She walked to the window and stood looking out at the London night. It was only at the sound of a sol appreciative whistle from somewhere in the banks of dark windows behind the mews that she realised she was standing there naked in the lamplight. With a wry smile she turned away and switched off the light, then she climbed into bed and lay staring up at the It was very early when she woke and the room was cold and fresh from the wide-open windows. Shivering, Jo got up and put on her robe. For a moment she did not dare look at her reflection in the mirror. The pain in her throat had gone as had her headache and all she felt now was a overwhelming longing for coffee. / In the bathroom she dashed cold water over her face and reached for her toothbrush. Only then did she raise her eyes to the mirror. There wasn't a single mark on her throat. At the flat in South Audley Street the following evening Nick threw himself down into the armchair facing the windows and held out his hand for the drink Sam had poured for him. 'I see it didn't take you long to find my booze,' he said with weary good humour. 'You can afford it.' Sam looked at him enqulringly. 'So, what did you want to see me about? It must be important if it brings you here from the lovely Miss Curzon.' Nick sat forward, clasping his glass loosely.between his fingers. He sighed. 'I haven't seen Judy for two days, Sam. If you want to know, I spent last night in an hotel. I went to Judy's then I couldn't face going in.' He paused. 'I want to talk to you about Jo. How did you find her on Saturday?' 'Tense. Excitable. Hostile.' Sam was thoughtful. 'But not, I think, in any danger. She was thrown by what happened at Dr Bennet's, but quite capable of handling it, as far as it went on that occasion. ' 'But you are worried about her being hypnotised again?' Sam swirled the ice cubes around in his glass. 'I am worried, yes, and I spoke to Bennet this morning about it.' He glanced at Nick. 'Unfortunately the man was on the defensive. He seemed to think I was trying to interfere and spouted a whole bag ofcrap about medical ethics at me. However, I shall persevere with him in case Jo goes hack to him. Tell me, why are you still so interested? I should have thought the beautifulbiiss Curzon tookup most of your time these days, and if she doesn't, she ought to!' Nick stood up. 'I still care for Jo, Sam, and there is something wrong. On Sunday she and I went to Suffolk. She was taken ill -' He stood.staring out of the window towards the park as he drained his glass. 'There was something very strange about what happened. We were talking during a violent thunderstorm and she had some kind of fit. The local quack said it was exhaustion, but I'm not so sure he was right.' Putting his glass down he held his hands out in front of him, flexing the fingers one by one. 'I think it was in some way related to what happened at Bennet's on Friday.' Slowly Sam shook his head. 'I doubt it. What were you doing in Suffolk anyway?' He was watching Nick carefully. 'Just visiting Jo's grandmother .' 'I see.' Sam stood up abruptly. 'So, you're still in with the family are you? Nice, rich, respectable Nick! Does grandma know you' re living with someone, else?' 'I expect so.' Nick stared at him, astonished at his sudden vehemence. 'Jo tells her most things. Sam, about Jo's illness -' 'I'll go over and see her.' 'You can't. She's taken the phone offthe hook and she's not answering the door.' 'You tried?' 'Earlier this evening.' 'She wasn't ill -' 157 Nick laughed wryly. 'Not too ill to tell me to bugger off over the intercom.' Sam smiled. 'In that case I should stop worrying. The whole thing will have blown over in another few days. She'll write her article and forget all about it. And I'll have a word with Bennet to make sure he won't see her again, just in case she does take it into her head to try. But I'm not taking any of this regression bit too seriously and neither should you. As to the fainting fit, it probably was heat exhaustion. A day's rest and she will b right as rain.' Hick did not look particularly convinced as he turned his back on the sunset and held out his glass for a reflil. 'That is what she said when I dropped her off on Sunday night.' 'Then she's a sensible girl. Hold on, I'll get some more ice.' Sam .disappeared towards the kitchen. With a sigh Nick walked over to the coffee table and picked up the top book on the pile which was there. It was a biography of King John, borrowed from the London Library. Surprised, he flipped it open at the place at the back, morked by an envelope. There, in the voblroinous index, underlined in red pencil, was the name Briouse, Matilda of. Putting the book down he glanced curiously at the others. A two volume history of Wales, the Everyman edition of Gerald of Wales's Itinerary and Poole's volume of The Oxford History of England. 'Phew!' Nick let out a quiet whistle. Gently he put the books back. in place and moved away from the table. 'So, you're not taking it seriously, brother mine,' he whispered thoughtfully. 'Like hell you're not!' It was Tuesday morning before Carl Bennet could see Jo. Sarah Simmons was waiting, as before, at the head of the stairs, her restrained manner barely hiding her excitement as she led Jo through into Bennet's consulting room. He was waiting for her by the open window, his glasses in his hand. 'Joanna! I am so glad you came back.' He eyed her as she walked towards him, noting the paleness of her face beneath her tan. Her smile, however, was cheerful as she shook hands with him. 'I explained what happened on the phone,' she said. 'I had to come and find out why. If it had anything to do with the past, that is.' He nodded. 'Your throat was bruised, you said.' Putting on his glasses he tipped her chin gently sideways and peered at her neck. 'No one else saw this phenomenon?' 'No. It was gone by yesterday morning.' 'And there has been no recurrence of pain or any of the other symptoms?' 'None.' She threw her canvas bag down on the chesterfield. 'I'm beginning to wonder ffI imagined the whole thing.' He looked at her thoughtfully. 'We can't he sure that it had anything at all to do with your regression, Joanna. It is, to be honest, so unlikely as to be Almost impossible. It presupposes a degree of self-hypnosis on your part that I t'md hard to credit and even if that were possible, we had no intimations that anyone tried to strangle you in your previous existence. However,' he drew his breath in with a hiss, 'what I suggest is that we try another regression, but very differently this time. I propose to regress you to an earlier period. Your Matilda was scarcely more thn a child when we met her last. Let us try and find her again when she is even younger, and when, hopefully,' he grinned disarmingly, 'the personality is less strong and more malleable. I intend to keep a tight control of the session this time, and before we start, whilst we drink our first cup of coffee - please, Sarah -' he laughed in suppressed excitement, 'I suggest that you and I draw up a list of questions which I can ask her. Knowing who she is and the period to which she belongs makes everything so much easier.' He picked up a volume from his desk and held it out. 'See.' He was as pleased as a child. 'I have brought a history book. Last night I read up the chapter on the reign of King Henry II and there are pictures, so I even know roughly about her clothes.' Jo laughed. 'You've done more research than me, then. 159 Once I knew she was real, and what happened to her -' she shivered. 'I suppose I was more interested with the technicalities of regression originally and I never considered that it would really happen to me. Or how I would feel if it did. But now that it has, it's so strange. It's an invasion of my privacy, and I'm conscious all the time that there is someone else there in my head. Or was. I'm not sure I like the feeling.' 'I can't say I'm surprised. People react in different ways. Interest, fear, resentment, complete disbelief, mild amusement. By far the most common reaction is to refuse to have anything more to do with regression.' 'For fear of becoming involved,' Jo nodded almost absently. 'But I am involved. Not only professionally, but, somehow, inside myself. Because I've shared such intimate emotions with her. Fear ... pain.., horror ... love.' She shook her head deprecatingly. 'Am I being very gullible?' 'lqo.' Bennet smiled. 'You are sensitive. You empathise 'To the extent where I develop the symptoms I'm describing.' Jo bit her lip. 'But then while it's happening I am Matilda, aren't I?' She paused again. 'I don't understand about my throat, but atier Friday's regression ...' She stopped in mid-sentence. If she told Bennet about Sam's warning, he might refuse to risk hypnotising, her again, and she did want very much to go back to Matilda's life. She wanted to know what happened. 'You've had other symptoms?' Bennet persisted quietly. She looked away. 'My t'mgers were very bruised. I hurt them on the stones of the castle wall, watching William kill those men ...' her voice died away. 'But they only felt bruised. There was not-hing to see.' He nodded. 'Anything else?' She could feel his eyes on her face as she took her coffee from Sarah and sipped it. Did the ability to hypnotise her mean he could read her thoughts as well? She bit her tip, deliberately trying to focus her attention elsewhere. 'Only stray shivers and echoes. Nothing to worry about.' She grinned at him sheepishly. 'Nothing to put me off, I assure you. I would like to go back. Amongst other things I want to find out how she met Richard de Clare. Is it possible to be that specific in your questions?' Had he guessed, she wondered, just how much, secretly, she longed to see Richard Bennet shrugged. 'We'll see. Why don't we start and find out?' He watched as she took out her tape recorder and set it on the ground beside her as she had done before, the microphone in her lap. She switched on the recorder then at last she lay back on the long leather sofa and dosed her eyes. Every muscle was tense. She was hiding something from him. He knew that much. And more than that understandable desire to see Richard again. But what? He thought once again about the phone call he had had from Samuel Fnmklyn and he frowned. The call had come on Monday morning before Sarah had arrived and Sarah knew nothin$ about it. He had not allowed Franyn to say much, but there had been enough to know that there was some kind of problem. He looked at his secretary, who had seated herself quietly once more in her corner, then he turned back to Jo. He licked his lips in concentration and taking a deep breath he began to talk. Jo listened intently. He was talking about the sun again. Today it was shining and the sky was clear and uncomplicated alter the weekend of storms. But there was no light behind her eyelids now. Hothi,g. Her eyes flew open in a panic. 'Nothing is happening,' she said. 'It isn't going to work again. You're not going to be able to do it!' She pushed herself up against the slippery leather back of the sofa. The palms of her hands were damp. Bennet smiled clmly. 'You're trying too hard, Jo. You mustn't try at all, my dear. Come, why not sit over here by the window?' He pulled a chair forward from the wall and twisted it so that it had its back to the light. 'Fine, now, we'll do some 161 little experiments on you to see how quick your eyes are. There's no hurry. We have plenty of time. We might even decide to leave the regression until another day.' He smiled as he felt under his desk for a switch which turned on a spotlight in the comer of the room. Automatically Jo's eyes went towards it, but he had seen already that her knuckles on the arm of the chair were less white. 'Is she as deeply under as before?' Sarah cautious question some ten minutes later broke into a long silence. Bennet nodded. 'She was afraid this time. She was subconsciously fighting me, every inch of the way. I wish I knew why.' He looked at the list of questions in his hand, then he put it down on his desk. 'Perhaps we'll discover eventually. But now it just remains to fred out if we can re-establish contact with the same personality at all! So often one can't, the second time around.' He chewed his lip for a second, eyeing Jo's face. Then he took a deep breath. 'Matilda,' he said softly. 'Matilda, my child. There are some thins I want you to tell me about yoxself.' 162 13 The candle on the table beside his bed was guttering as Reginald de St Valerie lay back against his pillow and began to cough again. His eyes, sunk in the pallid hollows of his face, were freed Anxiously on the door as he pulled another rug round his thin shoulders. But it made no difference. He knew it was only a matter of time now before the creeping chill in his bones reached his heart, and then he would shiver no His face tightened a little as the door was pushed open and a girl peered round it. 'Are you asleep, Father?' 'No, my darling. Come in.' Cursing the weakness which emed to have spread even to his voice Reginald watched her close the heavy door carefidly and come towards him. Involuntarily he smiled. She was so lovely, this daughter of his; his only child. She was tall, taller than average. She had grown this last year, until she was a span at least higher even than he, with her dark auburn hair spread thickly on her and down her back and the strange green eyes with gold which she had from her dead mother. She was allhe had leit, this tall graceful girl. And he was all she had, and soon... He shrugged. He had made provision long ago for the future when he had betrothed her to William de Brame. And now the time had come. - 'Sit here, Matilda. I must talk to you.' Feebly he patted the which covered him and the lines of his face softened as the took his hand, curling up beside him, tucking her long .legs under her. . 'Will yot/ eat something today, Father? If I prepare it help you with the spoon?' she coaxed, nestling 'Please?' She could feeJl the new inexorable cold in his Gently she pressed it to her cheek. try, Matilda, I'll try.' He pushed himselfa little further the pillows with an effort. 'But listen, sweetheart, there 163 is something I must tell you first.' He swallowed, trying to collect his thoughts as he gazed sadly into her anxious face. So often he had hoped this moment would never come. That somehow, something would happen to prevent it. 'I have written to Bramber, Matilda. Sir William de Braose has agreed that it is time the marriage took place. His son could have married long since, but he has waited until you were of age. You must go to him now.' He tried not to see the sudden anguish on her face. 'But Father, I can't leave you, I won't.' She sat up straight, her eyes bright with tears. 'Nothing will make me leave you. Ever.' He groped for her hand again, and held it gently. 'Sweetheart. It is I who must leave you, don't you see? And I couldn't die happy without knowing that you were wed. Please. To please me, go to him. Make him an obedient wife.' He was seized by another fit of coughing and Matilda slipped from the end of the bed and ran to the pillow, craling his head on her breast. Her eyes were full ofteyars as she clutched him, desperately clinging to him. 'You can't die, Father, you can't. You'll get well. You will. You always have before.' The tears spilled over and dropped onto her father's grey head. He looked up, trying to smile, and raised a shaky hand to brush her cheek. 'Don't cry, darling. Think. When you marry William you will be a great lady. And his mother will take care of you. Come, please don't be so unhappy.' 'But I want to stay with you.' She still clung to him stubbornly. 'I hate William, you know that. He's ugly and he's old and he smells.' Reginald sighed. So often he had given her ,her way, this girl of his, and he longed to do so again. But this time he had to stand firm. For her own sake. He closed his eyes, smelling the lavender of her gown, remembering. She was so like her mother had been; wilful; beautiful; wild... Sleep came so suddenly these days. He could feel his rids drooping. There was no way of fighting it. He supposed death would come like that and he welcomed the thought. He was too old now, too racked with pain to regret the young man's dream of death on the field of battle. Smiling a little he relaxed against her, feeling the soft warmth of her body, the gentle brush of her lips on his hair. Yes. She was very like her mother... /nstinctively Matilda ran first to the chapel for comfort. She pushed open a heavy door and peered in. It was empty. She could see the statue of Our Lady, lit by the single flickering candle which stood on the altar. Running to it she crossed herself and knelt. 'Please, Holy Mother, don't let him die. You mustn't let my father die. I won't marry William de Braose, so there's no point in trying to make me.' She gazed up at the serene stone face of the statue. It was cold in the chapel. A stray draught coming from the slit window high in the stone vault above the altar sent a shiver of cold down her pine and she wondered suddenly with a tremor of fear if anyone was listening to her at all; ffthere was anyone there to care. She pushed away the thought and, ashamed, she crossed gain. 'You must help me, Holy Mother, you must.' were blinding her again and the candlelight hazed and flickered. 'There is no one else. If you don't help me, I'll never pray to you again. Never.' She bit her lip, scar, by what she had said. She shouldn't have done it, but the chapel held such echoing emptiness... Scrambling to her feet she crept out, closing the door softly behind her. If she could fred no comfort there, there was only one other thing to do. Ride. When you galloped fast into the wind you could forget everything but the speed and the cold and the power of the horse between your legs. She ran to the chamber she shared with her nurse and the two maidens who were supposed to be her friends, and nunmaged through the rail, looking for her heaviest mantle. 'Matilda, come to your embroidery now, ma p'tit.' She could hear her nurse Jeanne's voice from the garderobe where she was sorting clothes. 'Tilda?' The tone sharpened. Grabbing a fur-lined cloak, Matilda threw it round her 164 165 shoulders and tiptoed to the door. Then, deaf to Jeanne's indignant shouts she pelted down the spiral stairs. 'Shall I come with you, young mistress?' The groom who held her excited horse knew as well as she that her father had forbidden her to ride alone. She flung herself into the saddle. 'Not this time, John. Blame me if anyone's angry.' She raised her whip and set the horse across the high slippery cobbles of the courtyard at a canter. Once beyond the crowded muddy village she pushed the animal into a gallop, feeling her hair stream behind her in the cold wind. Galloping like this, fast, she didn't have time to think. Not about her poor, sick father, or about the squat, red-hired man at Bramber who was destined to become her husband. Nothing mattered out here. Here she was free and happy and alone. At the top of the hill she reined in breathlessly, pushing her tangled hair back as the wind tugged it across her eyes. She turned to look back at the village far away in the valley, and her father's castle behind it. I need never go back, she thought suddenly. iF i don't want to, I need never go back. I could ride and ride and ride and they would never fred me. Then she thought of Reginald lying so pale in his chamber, and imperceptibly she straightened her shoulders. For his sake she Would go back. For his sake she would marry Willh-m de Braose. For his sake she would go to the end of the world ffhe asked it of her. Sadly she turned the horse and began to pick her way back down the steep track. For two days before the wedding the attendants of the de Braose household crowded them out, overspilling from the small castle and its walls into tents and marquees on the edge of the village. Old Sir William, a wiry hawklike man with piercing grey eyes, spent much of his time closeted with Matilda's father, while his son hunted across the hills, sparing no time for his betrothed. Matilda was extremely glad. She had been horrified by her glimpse of the younger William 166 whom she had barely remembered from their introduction at their bethrothal years before. She had forgotten, or perhaps then he had been different. His reddish hair and beard now framed a coarse heavily veined face with an uncompromisingly cruel mouth. He had kissed her hand once, running his eye expertly up her body, judging her, Matilda thought furiously, as ffshe had been a flily he was contemplating buying for his stable, then he turned away, more interested in his host's hunting dogs than in his bride. Regna-ld was too ill even to be carried in a litter to the wed'ding ceremony, so he summoned his daughter and new son-inlawto his room as soon as they returned from the parish church. Matilda had spent the first pan of the day in a frozen daze. She allowed herself to be dressed in her fmest gown and mantle without interest. She followed Jeanne down to the hall and gave her arm to old Sir William without a flicker ofemotion on her face. Then she walked with him to the church without any sign that she heard or even saw the gay procession of men and women who followed them. But her fists were bunched so tightly into her skin that her nails had bitten into her palms. 'Please, Holy Mother, don't let it happen. Please, Holy Mother, don't let it happen.' She was murmuring the phrase over and over again under her breath like a magic charm. If she kept on saying it, without stopping, it would work. It must work. She scarcely saw when Sir Willim le/ her side in the church porch and his son took his place. She didn't hear a word of the service as the old half-blind priest gabbled the form, shivering in his surplice as the autumn leaves tossed round them and a few drops of icy rain splattered in under the porch roof. Even later, as she knelt to kiss her father's hand, she was dazed. It was not until he put gentle fingers beneath her chin and tilted it a little to look into her face, murmuring-'Be happy sweetheart, and pray for your old father,' that her control broke. She flung herself at him, clinging to him, her fingers wound into the wool of the blankets. 'Please, please don't die. Darling, darling Papa, don't make me go with him, please ' 167 Hastily William stepped forward, his hands on her arms, and he draggedher offthe bed. 'Control yourself, madam,' he hissed at her sharply. 'Come away. Can't you see your father's upset? Don't make it worse. Come quickly.' His voice was rough. Tearing herself free of his grip Matilda rounded on him. 'Don't touch me!' she almost spat at him, her eyes blazing. 'I'll stay with my father as long as I please, sir!' William was taken aback. He stepped forward awkwardly, frowning. 'You must do as I say, Matilda. You're my wife now.' 'Yes, I'm your wife, God pity me,' she whispered in anguish, 'but I'm his daughter fLrst.' She was shaking with fear and anger. 'Matilda, please.' Reginald stretched out painfully to lay his fingers on her arm. 'Obey your husband, sweetheart. Leave me to sleep now.' He tried to smile, but his lids were falling. The familiar blackness was closing round him. 'Go, sweetheart,' he mumbled. 'Please go.' With one longing agouised look at him Matilda turned away. She glanced at Will i a m as he reached forward to take her arm and then dodbfed past hrn gathering her skirtsin her hands and, blindwith tears, she ran towards the door. / The wedding feast was interminable. She only nibbled at the food on the platter in front of her which she shared with her husband. He was drinking vast quantities of wine, roaring with laughter at the bawdy jokes of the men near him, rocking towards her every so oen, trying to plant a kiss on her cheek or her shoulder. She gritted her teeth and reached for her own goblet, and, trying not to let the tiny seed of panic inside her grow, she kept thinking of the peaceful warm glow of the candle in her father's room, and of the gentle, lined face on the pillow and the loving reassuring touch of his hands. The bed was strewn with flowers. Matilda stood, clutching her embroidered bedgown tightly round her, not daring to look at her husband as he chased the last of the giggling women out of the room. His face was blurred with wine and lust as he turned triumphantly to her at last. 168 'SO..My wife.' He leered a little, his own fur-trimmed gown held round his waist by a gilded leather girdle. She stood transfixed, her back to the high shuttered window, her hands once more tight fists at her sides. She was much taller than he, but so slight he could have snapped her in half with one blow from his enormous fist. Her heart was beating very fast as he raised his hands to her shoulders. She wanted to push him away, to run, to scream, but somehow she forced herself to stand still as he loosed her girdle and thrust the gown back from her shoulders. She made no attempt to hold it as it fell, sliding from her unresponsive arms to the floor, billowing out in blues and silvers around her knees, leaving her standing before him, naked. Almost wonderingly he raised a hand and touched her shoulder, drawing his calloused fingers down across her breast. Then he seized her, crushing her to him, running his hand down her back, over her buttocks, fondling, caressing. Her hair fell in a dark auburn curtain across her face as he litied her onto the bed and she made no attempt to push it-away. She lay limp alier a first involuntary struggle of protest at what he did, biting her lips in pain, trying not to cry out as the agony of his thrusting tore through her and the first dark drops of blood stained the bridal sheets. Then at last with a grunt he rolled off her and lay still. She remained dry-eyed in the dark and tried to ease her aching body on the hot mattress, not seeing the embroidered tester which hung over the bed. Some of the flowers had been caught beneath them and crushed, and their sweet scent mingled with the reek of sweat and drying blood. Reginald de St Valerie died at dawn. Lying sleepless in her chamber watching the light pale in the stuffy room, Matilda had ceased to hear the regular snores of her husband. It was as if some part of her bad slipped away to hover over the deathbed, watching her father, seeing hi face relax without struggle at last into peace. 'He waited to see me married,' she whispered into the dark. 'He only waited for that.' And then 169 'she turned at last to her pillow and began despairingly to cry. The day after the funeral the long procession of horses and waggons set off across a bleak autumnal southern England towards Sussex. Matilda rode, upright and proud, beside her husband, her face set. She was determined not to weep now, not to show any emotion to her husband or his followers. Somewhere behind her in the main of riders was Jeanne, her nurse. Jeanne had understood, had cradled her head and rocked her as she watched beside her father's body. Jeanne had mied her wine and herbs toe drink, 'pour le courage, ma p'tite,' and muttered magic words over the bed in which Matilda and William had slept, to help ease the girl's troubles. Each night had been the same. He had not spared her for her father's sake, nor had she expected it. The pain, alier the first time, had not been so bad. The elder William rode in front of them, the chestnut rump of his horse glistening beneath4ts gay caparison in the pale anturn sunlight. They were nearing a wayse chapel when Matilda, keeping her eyes fixed resolutely on her father-in law's broad back, was surprised to see him raise his hand, bringing the long procession to a halt. Then he turned in the high saddle. 'I'll wait, my son,' he announced curtly. Matilda glanced at her husband who was dismounting. He ducked under his horse's head, and came to her side. 'I always pray at Holy Places,' he announced self-righteously. 'I should like you tO accompany me.' He helped her down from the horse and taking her arm ushered her into the chapel. Puzzled, she glanced over her shoulder. No one else had made a move to join them. The entire cortege stood in the settling dust, disinterested, bored, as their lord's eldest son and his bride ducked into the dark chapel. For some reason Matilda felt suddenly afraid. She knelt reluctantly, beside her husband as he prayed. No words came to her own lips; her throat was dry. The Virgin had not heeded her supplications when her help had been needed so much. Now it was too late. What was the point of praying? She glanced sideways at William. His eyes were closed, the short sandy lashes veiling the pale irises, the coarse folded flesh of his chin resting on the thick wool of his blue mantle. On his shoulder there was a large circular brooch, at its centre a purple amethyst. The stone caught a little spark oflight from the candle at the shrine. They stopped a dozen times like this on the long journey and each time Matilda, too afraid to refuse, alone dismounted with her husband. But not once did she try to pray. Bramber Castle was built high on a hill overlooking the semarshes which flanked the River Adur. From far away they could see the tall keep rising against the burnished blue sky while gulls circled the towers, their laughing cries echoing across the salty reed beds. Bertha, daughter of Milo of Gloucester, heiress of Brecknock and Upper Gwent, the wife of Sir William de Braose and Matilda's mother-in-law, was waiting for her husband and son in the loft7 great hall. She was a stout woman of middle height, some years older than her husband, with white hair falling in long plaits to her waist. Her eyes were brown as hazelnuts and very shrewd. She kissed Matilda coolly and then held her at arms' length, scrutinising her closely until the girl felt herself blushing uncomfortably beneath the uncompromising gaze. 'So, my son's bride,' Bertha announced at last. 'Welcome to Bramber, child.' The words were not softened by a smile. Then Bertha turned aside, drawing her son with her, and Matilda was left standing alone. After a moment, William's father joined her. He smiled. 'I hope it won't seem too strange, my dear,' he murmured. 'My sonis a good man. Harsh sometimes, but good.' Matilda lifted her green eyes to his and forced herself to return his smile, which was friendly enough. 'Thank you, sir,' she whispered. 'I am sure I shall do very well with William.' Happiness, they both knew, was not part of the marriage contract. 171 . She became conscious slowly that Sir William's eyes had strayed beyond her. Someone was standing behind her near the hearth. 'Lord de Clare! My wife told me you were here. Greetings.' The old man stretched out his hands with sudden warmth. Turning, Matilda saw he was addressing a slim young man, dressed in a scarlet mantle caught at the shoulder with gold. He had laughing hel eyes and a shock ofcorn-coloured hair. 'Sir William, I was persuaded by Lady Bertha to wait for you.' Lord de Clare stepped forward to clasp his host's hnds. Then he turned to Matilda. He bowed smiling. 'Madrn?' 'This is my daughter-in-law,' Sir William put in hastily. 'Matilda, Lord de Clare has threatened this long time to ride over from his castle at Toubridge to see my mews, haven't you, my boy?' The old man was plainly delighted to seehis visitor. 'Lord de Clare.' Matilda curtseyed and her heart inexplicably began to beat a little faster as she surveyed the young man's hodsome face. He grinned. 'Do you enjoy hawking, madam? It should be an exciting day. I'm told there is good sport on these 'Indeed there isl' Sir William put in good-naturedly. 'You must join us, Matilda. Watch my birds trounce this young fellow's, eh?' He chuckled broadly. Matilda. didn't hear him. She was drowning in the young man's gaze. 'So, it was too late when they first met,' Sarah whispered softly. 'She was already married to that bore! See if she and Richard ever managed to meet alone. Please, Carl. Ask her.' Bennet frowned. Hevertheless he leaned forward a little as he put the question. 'Did you go hawking with Lord de Clare, Matilda? Did you manage to speak to him again?' Jo smiled. Her eyes, open and dancing, were the eyes of a carefree girl. 'We rode away from the others, south towards Sompting. The forest over the Downs is thick with oak trees there and their leaves were gold and brown with autumn. Richard flew his peregrine when we got to the chalk fields and I pretended to fall from my horse. I knew he would dismount and come to help me. I wanted him to hold me in his arms so much...' 'My lady! My lady, are you hurt?' Richard's face was near hers as she lay still on the ground. He glanced behind him for help, then gently he cradled her head on his knees. 'My lady?' His voice was sharper now. 'For the love of Christ, speak to me!' She moved sfightly, letting out a small moan. His face was close to hers. She could see, through scarcely opened eyes, the free hairs growing again on his chin where he had been shaved that morning, and feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. He smelled of leather and horse-sweat, quite unlike the musty reek her husband habitually exuded. She nestled a little closer in his lap and felt suddenly his hands inside her mantle. Was he feeling for her heart, or for her breast beneath the pale linen? She stiffened imperceptibly and at once he straightened, moving his hand. 'My lady?' he said again. 'Speak to me. TeAl me if you are hurt.' She opened her eyes and smiled at him, her breath catching in her throat as she found his face so very close to her own. 'I must have fallen,' she whispered. 'Can you rise?' He was uving to push her up as, behind them, the sound of horses' hooves thundering on the hollow chalk announced the rest of the party. 'I can manage! Thank you.' Crossly she jumped to her feet, brushing leaves from her mantle, then she turned from him in a flurry of skis and ran to scramble hack onto her horse alone. 'Why didn't you let me go on longer?' Jo asked when Bennet woke her from her trance. She glanced down at the spool on her tape recorder, which was barely a quarter used. 'I want to 173 know what happened. I wanted to see Richard again.' Bennet frowned. 'It was going well, Jo, and we have learned a lot from this session. I don't want you to grow tired.' She intercepted the worried look he cast in her direction. 'Did you fred out if someone tried to strangle me?' she asked. She was watching his face closely. He shook his head. 'At the period you described today you were scarcely more than a child - you didn't seem to know quite how old you were yourself. But if anyone tried to strangle Matilda it was at some time far in her future, Jo. Hot when she was riding on the Downs with RichCrd de Clare.' 'But something did go wrong. Something worried you?' 'lqothing at all. Nothing.' He smiled reassuringly. 'In fact I would like to pursue our experiment further with you, if you agree.' 'Ofcourse I agree. I want to know more about Matilda and Richard. And what happened after the massacre.., just a bit more.' Jo grinned as she picked up her recorder and stuffed it into her bag. 'But I warn you now, I'm not going to chase her story endlessly. There's no point in that and I have no inten tien of getting obsessive about all thbt. But jUSt one or two more sessions as soon as you can fit me in.' Sarah rose and went to fetch the diary. As she did so Bennet came round the desk. He.was frowning again. 'Joanna. I must tell you that I had a phone call yesterday from a colleague who says he is treating you, a Dr Franidyn.' Jo straightened abruptly, swinging her hag onto her shoulder. She tightened her lips. 'Oh?' she said suspiciously. 'He has asked me for a meeting to discuss your case.' 'No!' Jo threw the bag down on the sofa. 'No, Dr Bennet. Sam Franklm is not "treating" me as you put it. He is interested in this business because he worked for Michael Cohen years ago. He wants me to stop the regressions because he doesn't want me to write about them. Believe me, he is not treating me for anything.' Bennet took a step backwards. 'I see.' He glanced at her beneath his eyebrows. 'Well, I told him I had to ask your permission, of course.' 'And I will not give it. I have already told him to leave me alone. I am sorry he rang you, I really am. He should not have bothered you.' 'That is all right, Jo.' Bennet took the diary from Sarah and frowned at it through his spectacles. 'Friday afternoon at three o'clock. Would that suit you? I shall make it my last appointment and then we need not be hurried. And I shall tell Dr Franklyn if he rings again that you would rather I did not speak to him.' After she had gone Sarah turned to Bermet. 'She is hiding something, isn't she?' He shrugged. 'I suspect so.' Sarah raised an eyebrow. 'So. Will you talk to this Dr Franklyn?' Carl Bermet smiled. He tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger. 'I'm sure that in the course of events he and I will meet. It is unthinkable that I should not run into him, because a colleague of Cohen's would be an invaluable person with whom to discuss my work.' He closed the diary and handed it back to Sarah. 'I would not discuss Joanna with him of course, unless I thought it to be in her best interests.' Sarah smiled thinly. 'Which it would be, of course. Tell me. What do you really think about the bruises she told us about. Do you think they were real? No one else saw them.' 'Oh, I'm sure they were real.' He walked to the window and glanced down into the street. 'But you think they were ofhystericai origin?' Sarah's voice was hushed. 'She's not the type, surely?' - 'Who can tell who is the type?' -he replied thoughtfully. 'Who can ever tell? And if she isn't the type, and the bruises were there...' He paused. 'If she isn't,' Sarah echoed quietly, 'then the man she was with really did try to strangle her.' 175 As m-anged, Jo met Sam on Wednesday evening at Lulgi's. He took one look at her and grinned across the table. 'Let's order before you hit me with your hndbg, Jo.' 'I'll hit you with more than a handbag if you try a trick I'Ve that again,' Jo said. Her voice was cool as she glanced at him over the menu. 'I absolutely forbid you to talk to Carl Bennet about me. What I do is noue of your business. I am not your patient. I have never been your patient, and I don't intend to be. What I do and what I write is my own affair. And the people I consult in the course of my research have a right to privacy. I do not expect you to harass them, or me. Is that quite clear?' 'OK. I surrender. I've said, I apologise.' He raised his hand. 'What more can I do?' 'Don't ever go behind my back again.' 'You must trust me, Jo. I've said I'm sorry. But I am interested. And I do have a right to worry about you. I have more right than you'll ever know.' He paused for a moment. 'So, you decided to defy me and see him aga. You'd better tell me what happened. Did you learn anything more about your alter ego?' 'A bit.' Jo relented. 'About her marriage to William ...' She was watching his face in the candlelight. The restaurant was dark, crowded now at the peak evening hour, and very hot. Sam was sweating slightly as he looked at her, his eyes fixed on her face. The pupils were very ma-ll. Without knowing why, she felt herself shiver slightly. 'Nothing dramatic happened. It was all rather low key after the first session.' Her voice tailed away suddenly. Low key? The violence! The rapel The agony of that man thrusting his way into her child's resirdng body, silencing her despete screams with a coarse, tmclean hand across her mouth, laeghins at her terror. She ttlised that Sam was still watching her and looked away Imtily. ]o?' He reached across and lightly ran his thumb across her . 'Are you all right?' She nodded. 'Of course. It's just a bit hot in here.' She withdrew her hand a little too quickly. 'Let's eat. I'm starving.' They waited in silence as the waiter brought their antipasto. As they were starting to eat, Sam said thoughtfixlly, 'William was very lose to King John, did you know that?' Jo stared up at him. 'Yon'ye been looking it up?' 'A bit. I have a feeling William was much maligned. Historians seem to doubt if the massacre was his idea at all. He was a useful pawn, the man at the sharp end, the one to carry it out and take the blame. But not quite as bad as you seemed to think.' 'He enjoyed it.' Jo's voice was full of icy condemnation. 'He enjoyed every moment of that slaughter!' She shuddered violently and then she leaned forward. 'Sam. I want you to do something for me. I want you to do whatever you have to do to lift that post-hypnotic suggestion that I forget that first session in Edinburgh. I have to remember what happened!' 'No.' Sam shook his head slowly. 'No. I'm sorry. I can't do that.' 'You can't, or you won't?' Jo put down her fork with a clatter. 'I won't. But I probably couldn't anyway. It would involve rehypnosis, and I'm not prepared to try and meddle with something Michael Cohen did.' 'If you won't, I'll get Carl Bennet to do it.' Jo's eyes were fixed on his. She saw his jaw muscles tighten. 'That wouldn't work, Jo.' 'It would. I've been reading up about hypnosis. Believe me, I haven't been sitting around the last few days wondering what is happening to me. There are hundreds ofbooks on the ubject and ' 'I said no, Jo.' Sam sat back slowly, moving sideways slightly to ease his long legs under the small table. 'Remember what I told you. You are too suggestible a subject. And don't that you are not reacting deeply again because you have proved you are. Not only under hypnosis either. It is lxnsible that you are susceptible to delayed reaction. For 177 instance, Nick has told me what happened at your grandmother's house.' Jo looked up, stunned. 'Nick doesn't know what happened,' she said tightly. 'At least -' She stopped abruptly. 'Supposing you tell me what you think happened.' Sam did not look at her. He was staring at the candle flame as it flared sideways in the draught as someone stood at the next table and reached for their coat. Jo hesitated. 'Nothing,' she said at last. 'I fainted, that's all. It had nothing to do with anything. So, are you going to help me?' For a moment he did not answer, lost in contemplation of the candle, the shadows playing across his face. Then once more he shook his head. 'Leave it alone, Jo,' he said softly. 'Otherwise you may start something you can't irmish.' 14 'May I have the Maclean t'de, please?' Nick's assistant's voice was becoming bored. 'For Jim, if it isn't too much trouble!' Behind her the office door swung to and fro in the draught from the open window. Nick focused on her suddenly. 'Sorry, Jane. What did you say?' 'The Maclean t'de, Nick. I'll try to get Jo again, shall I?' Jane sighed exaggeratedly. She was a tall, willowy girl whose high cheek-bones and Roedean accent were at varlanee with the three parallel streaks of iridescent orange, pink and green in her short cropped hair. 'Though why we go on trying when she is bbviousiy out, I don't know.' 'Don't bother!' Nick slammed his pen down on the desk. He bent to Dtmmge for the fde and threw it across to her. 'Jim has remembered that I'm supposed to be going to Paris .next Wednesday?' 'He'd remembered.' Jane put on her calming voice. It [ Nick. 'Good. Then from this moment I can leave the office in your hands, can I?' 'Why, where are you going until Wednesday?' Jane held . the file clasped to her chest like a shield. 'Tomorrow the printers, then lunch with a friend, then I said I'd look in at Caners on. my way to Hampshire.' He smiled. 'Then the blessed weekend. Then Monday and Tuesday I'm in Scotland.' He closed his case with a snap and picked it up. 'And now I'm playing hookey for the rest of the afternoon. So if anyone should want me you can tell them to try again in ten days.' Three minutes after he had left the building the phone ' rang. It was Jo. Each time Nick had phoned her, Jo had put the phone The last time she slammed the receiver down she switched off her typewriter and walked slowly into the 179 bathroom. Turning on the light she gathered her long hair up from her neck and held it on top of her head, then she studied her throat. There still wasn't a mark on it. 'SO. at proves he did not touch me!' she said out loud. 'If anyone really had tried to strangle me the bruSses would have been there for days. It was a dream. I was delirious. I was mad! It wasn't Nick, so why am I afraid of him?' She walked thoughfully through into the kitchen and poured a glass of iced tomato juice, then she went back to the typewriter. All she had to do was see him. Even his anger was better than this limbo without him, and once he was there in the flesh, and she reminded herselfwbat he really looked like, surely this strange terror would go? The memory of those eerie, piercing eyes kept floating out of her subconscious, haunting her as she walked around the flat. And they were not even Nick's eyes. She found she was shivering again as she stared at the half-typed sheet of paper in her machine. On impulse she leaned over and picked up the phone to dial Nick's office. The phone range four txmes before Jane pcked t up. 'Hi, it's Jo. Can I speak to Nick?' Jo sipped her juice, feeling suddenly as.ifa great weight had been lifted offthe top of her head: 'Sorry. You've just missed him.' Jane sounded a little too cheerful. .'When will he be back?' Jo put down her glass and began to pluck gently at the curled flex of the phone. 'Hold on. I'll check.' There was a moment's silence. 'He'll be back on the twelfth.' 'The twelfth,' Jo repeated. She sat bolt upright. 'Where has he gone?' 'Scotland on Monday and Tuesday, then back and straight over to France on Wednesday morning for a week.' Jo could hear the smile on Jane's face. 'And today and tomorrow?' Jo could feel her voice turning prickly. 'Out. Sorry, I don't know where exactly.' Jo put down the phone thoughtfully. Then she picked it up again and dialled Judy Curzon. 'Listen, Judy, I need to see Nick. Will you give him a message please? Tell him I'm seeing Carl Bennet again afternoon. That's Friday - at three. Tell him I'm goingto fred out what really happened on Sunday, come hell or high water, and if he wants to know he'd better be there Have you got that?' There was a long silence on the other end. 'I'm not a service,' Judy replied eventually. Her tone was 'I don't give a screw who you're going to see tomorrow I afternoon, and obviously Nick doesn't either or you wouldn't have to ring him here, would you!' Jo sat looking at the phone for several minutes after Judy rang off, then she smiled. 'Hoist with your own petard, Miss she muttered with wry amusement. 'You walked right into that one!' cael ofon.' The voice spoke to Matilda again as she once more outside the moon-silvered walls of . Then it tried in words she understood. 'Do not my lady. I am your friend.' His French was halting dimly she recognised before her the dark Welsh boy who food the night befoie. But he was no longer it was her turn for terror. i She did not speak. She felt the hot wetness on her face and felt him brush the tears away with a gentle hand. 'You did not know then?' he stammered. 'You did not what was planned at the feast?' Wordlessly she shook her head. 'It is not safe for you here, whatever.' The boy spoke earn 'My people will seek revenge for the massacre. You go back into your castle.' i: Taking her elbow he tried to turn her back but she found scrabbling agonisingly on the sharp stones of the river as she fought against him on the slippery ground. 'No, no. I can't go back there. I'll never go back there, 181 never.' She broke from him and ran a few steps further on, towards the moon. Before it lay the mountains. 'Where will you go then?' The boy caught up with her in three strides and stood in front ofher again. 'I don't know. I don't care.' She looked around desperately. 'I will take you to Tretower.' The boy spoke, suddenly making up his mind. 'You will be safe there.' He took her firmly by the hand and strode out along the fiver and in a daze, oblivious of her torn and bleeding feet, she followed him. She never knew how long she stumbled on behind him. At one point her strength gave way and she sank onto the ground unable to go further along the steep rough bank of the river. The water ran mockingly pure and silver near her as though no blood had ever stained it. Bending she scooped some of it, icy and clean, into her mouth and then she lay back on the wet gras, her eyes closed. The boy came back for her and coaxed and pleaded, but she was unable to rise. Her back pained spasmodically. She re alised suddenly that she was going to lose her baby and she was glad. .-< The boy tugged at her hand, begging her to go with him, continually glancing over his shoulder, obviously worded that they were being followed, and then suddenly he seemed to give up the struggle and he disappeared as quickly and silently as he had come. He has left me to die, she thought, but she was past feeling any fear. She tried to recite the Paternoster, but the words would not come in the right order and she gave up. How would God ever find his way again to this country, she wondered bleakly, and she closed her eyes to shut out the silver trail of the moon in the water. But the boy returned with a shaggy mountain pony and somehow he helped her onto it. They forded a narrow fiver, the pony picking its way sure-footed through water shadowed now by stark overhanging branches entangled with clinging ivy. They passed the dark shape of Crickhowell Castle in the night, but she did not see it and the boy, apart from detouring dightly to avoid it, did not acknowledge its presence. Somewhere once a vixen screamed and Matilda clutched the pony's mane as it shied. They left the river and travelled through black unfriendly forest and over hills where the country was ilent except for the occasional lonely hoot of an owl and the wind in the branches of the trees. Closing her eyes she rode in a daze of pain and fatigue, not caring where she went or what he intended doing with her. Beneath her the pony, confident even in the dark, followed the boy at a steady pace, slowly imbing through the misty rain. Then she opened her weary eyes in the cold dawn and saw the keep of Tretower at last in the distance. She knew dimly that they must have been seen and been followed by the people of the forest, but for some reason she had been spared. The boy who held her bridle had been her talisman. He turned as they neared the tower and she studied his face in the colourless light. He smiled up at her, a sad, fond, smile. Then he pointed. 'Go,' he said. 'There will be your friends. Go with God and be safe, me/stress.' He released her bridle and he was gone, gliding back into the woods on silent feet. The pony stumbled on some rocks as she guided it as fast a she dared along the winding track towards the castle in the broad valley. She fLxed her eye on the tower and refused to look to left or right as her mount carried her at a sham bring trot along the path. To her surprise the drawbridge was down and she rode across unchallenged. Had everyone gone mad? Did they not know that the warring Welsh. must be everywhere? There was a veil of blood before her eyes as she sat astride her mount in the courtyard of the castle. She didn't dare try and slip from the saddle. The beast hung its head, its flanks heaving, and nuzzled a blown wisp of hay. There appeared to be no one there; Then, slowly, as though from a great distance, people came. She heard voices and saw fights and she recognised the clanking sound of a bridge being raised behind her. Hands 183 pulled at her dress. People took the reins, gripped her arms, tried to ease her offthe horse. The air was full of the sound of someone sobbing and dimly she realised it was her own voice she could hear. 'Do not distress yourself, my dear.' Bennet sat down beside Jo and gently put his hond on hers. His foot touched the small microphone on the floor and it fell over with a rattle. He did not notice. He was Staring down at her hand which was ice cold and covered in chilblains. 'Is she all right?' Sarah came over and knelt beside them. After a moment's hesitation he nodded. 'Go on, my lady. What happened next?' Jo withdrew her hand gently from his, rubbing it painfully as she stared past him into the room, her eyes freed somewhere in the middle distance, far away. 'I stayed there at Tretower with the Picards,' she said slowly. 'They put me to bed and cared for me and my stopped. I was not to lose the baby after all. William sent after me. I was too ill to be moved then, so Nll came with my baggage from Abergaveuny. But William did not come.' Christmas came and was over. Thick snows feb and melted into the swift running Rhian GolI. Ice locked its water, thawed and it flowed again. Slowly, almost unnoticeably her belly began to swell. The child inside her was doubly cursed by its father's ha-me and by the scene she had witnessed that terrible night and she still wanted to lose it. But it grew and seemed to flourish. She wanted Jeanne, her old nurse, Jeanne who would have understood the need to be rid of the baby and who would have found for her the juniper berries, pennyroyal and tansy which, with the right magic words, would procure a miscarriage. Matilda shuddered and crossed herself every time she thought about it, for she knew what she contemplated was mortal sin, but what else could she do when the child within her was blighted? But blighted or not the baby grew and her own health improved. Nell tended her as best she could, and with her a new maid, Elen, one of Dame Picard's women, an orphaned Welsh girl with a plump cheery face and an infectious smile who made Matil laugh, and stilled for a while with her stories and songs the deep restlessness within her. There was no word from William. As the winter weather began to ease its iron grip Matilda longed more and more to leave Tretower. She wanted to travel on to Brecknock where at least she would be her own .mistress in her husband's castle. But it was nearly Easter before the weather broke at last and the first chilly primroses began to force their way from the iron ground into the fitful anahine. Matilda had long given up the idea of taking a horse alone to Brecknock, trusting on speed and surprise ito get her there safely. Such tomboy escapades were beyond .her now, but she was still resolved to go. Anxiously she atched the trees bending low before the March gales, willing the winds to dry the earth and make the roads passable. For ithat she had to wait until the first day of April. It was a breezy day, the trees tossing their buds, the river peaceful, the sky a pure azure. i She dressed herself quietly before the women with whom chamber were awake and slipped silently down the great hall, where she knew John Picard would be taking some ale and bread before going out with his dogs. He gazed at her appalled when she faced him with her cool dmand for a litter and an escort to Brecknock, his eyes from beneath his heavy eyebrows, his mouth slightly open. Then he turned to his wife who had appeared at the door of still-room, an apron tied over her gown. 'She wants to leave us. She wants to go to Brecknock.' :,i 'And will go, by your leave, John Picard.' Matilda smiled , down at him, She turned to her hostess. 'My mind is made up. I can't tmpose on your kindness any longer.' 185 'But the danger:' Anne Picard stepped down into the hall and came to take her hands.'My dear, think of the dangers. And in your condition.' Matilda flinched away and drew her mantle round her shoulders as though trying to conceal her thickened body. 'There can be no danger if you will lend me a litter and an escort,' she repeated stubbornly. She stood looking down at the couple, a tall, lonely girl, her face and h-nds grown thin, her eyes weary, but resolute, and both knew that they would have to do so as she asked. John Picard insisted that he should ride with her to Brecknock, and ,Anne pressed on her the services of two of her own women, Margaret and Welsh Elen. 'There will be hardly any household over there, beyond the garrison,' she pointed out. 'It's no place for a woman. Oh, .please change your mind. Stay, at least till the babe is born.' She gazed earnestly at Matilda's face, unable to hide her anxiety, but the girl was adnmnnt. She refused even Anne's pleas that she pmtpoue her start for a day or two to give, them time to get ready. 'No preparations are needed,' she -nounced firmly, ttviag to keep the impatience outof her voice. 'Nell and and Elen can pack my boxes in the time it takes to harness the horses.' She was not prepared even to remove her cloak while she waited. The restlessness of the past weeks had suddenly become unbearable. She,did feel a pang of sorrow as she hugged Anne before climbing into the waiting litter, but as she settled herself beneath the fur rugs excitement began to take over again. The women who were to go with her mounted their ponies and John Picard, blowing a kiss towards his wife as she stood beneath the gateway, led the small cavalcade across the bridge. Only a matter of minutes after they set out Matilda had begun to regret her impetuosity. She had not foreseen the hor re Of travelling over the mountain tracks in a litter. She swayed and bumped inside the uncomfortable vehicle, unable to rest or balance, not knowing which way the next lurch would go. John Picard rode close at her side, his hauberk over his linen shin beneath a warm mantle, his helmet in place, his ever searching the budding thickets and bramble scrub the road. The day Was bright and it seemed quiet, but he certain that from the moment they clattered across the , were being watched. ..Secretly he was very relieved to be seeing Matilda away Tretower at last. He was genuinely concerned for her but he had daily been expecting trouble from the in the hills since the paths and tracks had They must know .that the wife of de Braose was and her life surely would be a fitting revenge for the of their prince and his sons. : of Brecknock was not prepared for its lady. The the outer-bailey rived in wooden lean-tos and stone outbuildings within the outer wall. The private great hall and the solar above bare. in the draughty damp upper chamber, Matilda : herself ready to weep. Never before had she arrived some before it had been ready for occupation. Turning she the newel stair into the main hall and con of the castle. place seems hardly prepared,' she said to him with a 'However, have your men light a fire so at least What is your name, sir?' 'Sir Robert Mortimer, my lady.' He gave a slight bow, to relay her orders to the men hovering in the is the chlttelaine? Why isn't she here to greet me?' Robert seemed embarrassed. 'My wife died eighteen back, my lady. The village women have done their sorry.' Matilda bit back the rude words which had on the tip of her tongue. 'Wh-.re-then is the I by ndown.' energy born of despair she set about directing the 187 inhabitants of the castle to work. Torches blazed in the sconces, the fire burned up at last and wooden shutters were found and fastened over the narrow windows. John Picard lounged on a bench in the great hall, holding out his hands to the fire. The lack of comfort made no difference to him but he watched with admiration the figure of his hostess, still swathed in her rnntle against the cold, as she moved from place to place directing operations. He saw her pause and look towards the door as a group of new figures appeared from the dusk outside. 'Clerics,' he muttered to himself. He had no time for the church but he was pleased to see them for her sake. Matilda gazed at the senior amongst the black-robed figures and smiled uncertainly. He was a grave, thin man in his mantle trimmed with miniver which showed up the black habit, of the monk at his side. His eyes, ranging round the hall, took in every detail of the place, and of the lady standing in front ofhlm. Then he bowed couneonsly and held out his hand in the gesture ofbenediction. 'I am Gerald, madam, Archdeacon of Brecknock.' He spoke softly and yet with great presence. Matilda bowed her head to accept his blessing. 'I was with Prior John when yo messenger arrived, my lady,' he went on. 'Some of the lay brothers are bringing furnishings across for you and I have sent to my house at Llandden for other comforts which may help you. I am sorry you should find Brecknock so unready for you.' 'It's my own fault.' She found herself responding to his warm smile. 'I brought no retinue, Archdeacon. No escort except for the one John Picard there could spare me, out of his kindne. Iwas foolish to come, I suppose.' He scrntinised her face for a moment, and then grinned boyishly. 'I can understand you wanting to come here. One's home is always the best place to be and I believe women in your condition frequently conceive such fancies. After all, where else should your child be born but here?' She felt herself blushing at his outspokenness and drawing her mantle more closely round her she retreated to the fire, she stood and watched as two sandalled lay brothers priory carried in a folding stool and set it down near were followed by others with trestles and table tops the dais, benches and candlesticks. Finally a linen cloth produced and carefully laid on the table. Matilda waited silence as the hall was transformed. Slowly, through eyes, she was beginning to see the funny side of her He had been watching her closely and he drop his eyes when she caught his stare, but grinned ouce more. 'Better?' he enquired humorously. She laughed. 'Much better, Archdeacon. I don't know how you.' i. 'Don't bother. My own reading chair is on its way down to from Llanddeu. You will find it easier sitting on a chair back I should imagine. If there's anything you need, or help wanted, send for me. I'm usually there when I'm not round the diocese.' He stepped forward and took earnestly. 'I'll take my leave now, I can see you're But remember I'm there if you need me.' John Picard raised an eyebrow as Gerald left. 'An intense man, that. But I'm glad he's here. He'll keep an eye on you till your husband comes,' and he leaned back tucking his comfortably into his belt. from Sir Robert Mortimer that she at last understood full extent of the danger in which she stood and which the managed to keep from her throughout the winter. Picard had left at dawn the next morning, bidding her a goodbye and leaving her with a smacking kiss on the then Sir Robert had found his way to Matilda's side. 'I've ordered a double guard, my lady, on the walls and on gate, and I've told them to keep the townsfolk out for 'Why?' She stopped clearing a pile of linen from the table to look at him, puzzled. Nell went on folding the 188 189 material, but her eyes too were freed on the constable's face. 'We cannot take any risks with you here at Brecknock, my lady. Things have been peaceful this winter. We've had no trouble, but now you're here I'd expect them to have a go at you.' He clenched his fist over the hilt of his sword. 'Have a go? Who?' Matilda narrowed her eyes. 'The Welshies ofcourse, my lady. An eye for an eye; a death for a death, all that. You've heard of the galanas?' She looked puzzled and he shook his head. 'The blood fend. They will seek revenge, my lady. It's the law of these hills. Then, no doubt, if they get it, your descendants and relatives will seek theirs in their turn and so on it will go. It's the way the Marches take their justice.' Matilda shivered. 'So Seisyll's wife died?' He shrugged. 'As to that, I haven't heard for sure. But weve got to assume you'll be a target, with Sir William away at Windsor or wherever. Did the Picards not warn you?' Matilda licked her lips nervously. 'Yes, they did mention it. Lady Picard told me of the feud, but I paid no attention - I was ill... I must have put them in great danger while I was there.' She walked over towards the hearth, her light green skirts sweeping the rushes. 'They sheltered me all winter, Sir Robert, and never let me know that.' Sir Robert rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. 'Aye, they're good folk right enough.' 'Let the town people come and go as usual. I don't want them to resent me from the start. Give me a bodyguard of some son, that'll be enough. These are my husband's people after all, not Seisyll's. I'm sure they're not involved in any feud.' Sir Robert frowned. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. 'There's something I think you should understand, my lady.' He looked at the floor, embarrassed. 'The thing is, your husband is not exactly well liked by the people. These lordships came to him from the fmily of his lady mother. They do not like de Brame.' His voice tailed away into silence. 'All the more reason that I should make them like me, Sir Robert,' she flashed back at him. Then she smiled. 'Please. Help me make friends with them. I should hate to feel that I have enemies here. Perhaps we can win them round if we try.' He looked at her determined, eager face and grinned. my lady, ff those are your orders, I'd be glad, for one. not a bad crowd in Aberhonddu. We'll guard you and hope they're not over-concerned with the doings in Will you be sending messages to Sir William?' She nodded. 'I must. He should be told I'm here and I want ome of my servants from Bramber. Will you arrange for someone to go to find him? Meanwhile I'll choose some women to serve me and we'll make a start at trying to make this place comfortable.' She grinned, and turned back to help lqell with her task. The next few days passed in a bustle of activity. As word round that Lady de Braose was there, people from the below the castle walls began to make their way her presence. She was called upon to act as arbiter and 'i judge amongst them. They seemed to be accepting her. She .had scarcely any time at all to herself, and almost forgot the worries and torments of the long winter. She found the people tithes of provisions and supplies, all eager e Sir William's bride; all apparently prepared She spent long mornings closeted with Hugh the bailiff, who had eventually turned up between two men-at-arms, so drunk he was unable to stand. She had curbed her initial :desire to have him flogged and waited to see him when he was sober. And she was pleased she had done so. He was in his grateful for her restraint and proved himself a com enough steward after his initial defensiveness had off. He took her on a tour of the barns, storerooms, and the cellar, proud that Brecknock should still be well stocked after the long winter. She sat for many hours, however, pondering over his desperately trying to make sense of the squiggles on 190 191 the pages before her, applying her limited knowledge of reading, knowing his taunting eyes were upon her, waiting for her m make a mistake. At last, sperated beyond measure, She slmmoned Father Hugo, the priest who had been sent by Gerald to take mass at the chapel each morning. 'Father, I need your help.' She looked up at him from Gerald's elaborate chair by the fire. 'I need m know how m read properly. Can you teach me?' Together they pored over the .account book for some time. Then Hugo straightened up and put his hnd to his eyes. 'I can hardly read this man's hand myself,' he muttered at last. 'Especially these last few pages. I'll bring the mass book from the chapel for you. That at least I know is legible.' Two days later Gerald was ushered into her presence. 'I hear you want to learn to read,' he said, without preamble. 'Hugo is not the man to teach you, my lady. His eyes are too old to see the letters himself. I shall do it.' 'You, Archdeacon? But how will you spare the time?' She was a little nervous of the energetic, handsome young man and she glanced rather apprehensively at the volumes under 'I shall teach you to write as well,' he went on. 'It is unthinkable that a lady of your standing should be unable to read and write with fluency. Writing is one of the greatest arts.' She blushed. He made her feel suddenly inadequate. she had been proud of the way she was handling the situation at Brecknock. It was the t'h-st chance she had had of-applying her skills in running a household without her mother-in-law breathing down her neck, and although the ld was abbreviated and inadequate, she was pleased with the way she was managing with the people she was cazefaily recruiting to her service. Bach day while he was at Llandden he rode down to the castle and spent an hour or two in her company. Sometimes they read from his own writings and from his poetry, which he predl. y brought to show her, and sometimes from the books from his library. They also struggled together with the bailiffs account books, and Gerald, his eyes sparkling with amusement, pointed out that the handwriting had markedly worsened from the day that Matilda had arrived at Brecknock and shown her determination to supervise his activities. Almost at once she discovered to her consternation that proudly claimed kinship through his grandmother with Lord Rhys himself, and that he knew all about the hap Since John Picard had left to ride home across the mountains Tretower she had tried to put the memory ofthat terrible day of her mind completely. It was easier than she expected ofher busyness at Brecknock, but.sometimes, still, at nights, in spite of her exhaustion, the noise and stench ofthat scene would return to her in horrifying nightmares which she would awaken screaming. Also there was the Each time it kicked she would shudder in revulsion as it joined her by a cord to the treachery she wanted to i now here was Gerald, sitting opposite her, a cup of in his hand, his thin, intense face serious as he gazed at her to confront that terrible memory once more. 'Your husband was the instrument of cruel excesses, but I doubt that others, more powerful even than he is, : the real instigators of the crime., He leaned forward and t her intently. 'You must not judge him, my lady. You you?' ,I was there, Archdeacon. I saw it all. I I know this part of the country them than most; I know William is a cruel, man. I've been told enough about him, but still, I believe he would commit such treachery. And I saw --. with his own hand...' She broke off, trying to stifle the which rose in her throat. 'It was so terrible. Even that Selsyll's son, and later the baby.' She bit her and sat silent, twisting the cloth of her skin between her Then she looked up suddenly, swallowing hard and -- squarely, her eyes fixed unwavering on his. 193 'My child is cursed, father, by what happened that day,' she burst out. 'I would rather it is never born at all.' She waited defiantly, half expecting him to be shocked, but to her surprise he nodded understandingly. 'It's a natural thing,' he said slowly, his low voice soothing and considered. 'But it is wrong. You must have faith. The child is as innocent as it is possible for a human creature to be. He will be washed and sanctified by baptism and by our prayen. You must not fear for him.' He drank back the dregs of his wine suddenly and rose to his feet. 'And now I have some news for you, my lady. Three nights ago your husband was at Hereford. From there I understand he plans to go to Hay and then he is coming on here to Brecknock, so you will be seO-'- him soon. You must prepare yourself for that.' Matilda pulled herself to her feet. Her hands were shaking, and nervouy she tried to hide them in the folds of her skirt, but thealleeing eyes of the Archdeacon had spotted them instantly.He put his hand gently on her arm. 'You have been a good and/eyal wife to William de Braose. Don't be afraid of him. He i ll the Christian man you married.' He grinned suddenly, hie enexpected boyish grin which she found so heartwarn ' 'Perhaps now I shall be able to have my chair back whe he comes. I miss it, I must confess, perched on that high atmte I'm reading at Llandden. I must be getting old.' He and put his hand to his back with a mock In gite of herlf, she laughed. She had grown very fond of Gerald in the few weeks she had known him. 'Poor Arch decon. Imut give you a salve to rub on your back. When William com, your chair will be my first thought, I promise you. It'll trel up that track to Llandden faster than lightningF But even the sound of his gay chuckle as he pulled on his mantle and swung out into the so rain to find his horse did nothing to ease the sick fear which flooded through her at the thought of Wil|m's imminent arrival. Nick sat back and smiled at Judy fondly. 'I never did ask you where you learned to cook. That was the most superb lunch. "Thankyou.' He eyed the empty casserole and then leaned forward to pour out the last of the wine. 'A woman should keep some secrets surely!' Judy grinned. She had changed from her paint-stained jeans and smock into a summer dre with vivid blue stripes, which suited her col outing remarkably well. As she leaned forward to take his plate Nick caught a faint breath of Mi Dior. 'Coffee would make it perfect,' he said hopefully. 'Fi/st crme brfile, then cheese. Then coffee.' Judy disappeared into the kitchen. Nick groaned.' Are you trying to kill me or something?' 'As long as you can beat me at squash a meal like this once in a while won't kill you.' She stuck her head round the door. 'Do you really have to go to your mother's this weekend, He nodded. 'I'm afraid I must. I haven't seen her for ages, and as I'm going to be away so much over the next month I thought I'd get it over with. And while I'm down there, if the tides are right, I thought I'd bring Moon Dancer back from Shoreham and leave her at Lymingtou.' He levered himself to his feet: 'There will be time for a siesta though, before I leave.' In the kitchen he put his arms around her slowly, savouring the feel of her body beneath the thin cotton voile of her dress. 'Friday afternoon is the best time there is for making love.' Judy raised her lips to his eagerly. 'Any time is the right time,' she murmured, trying not to wonder why he had not uggested she go with him to Hampshire. 'Why don't we leave the rest of the meal until later?' She ran her tongue gently along the line of his jaw and nipped his ear. ' His hands slipped round to the zip atthe back of her dress. ii Expertly he slid it down, pushing the fabric offher shoulders. lkneath it she was naked. 195 Unembarrassed, she wriggled away from him and stepped out of the dress. 'I'll turn offthe coffee.' He was undoing his shirt, his eyes on her breasts as she unpktgged the pot and walked past him into the studio. In the bedroom she drew the curtain, blocking out the sun, then she turned in the shadowy twilight and held out her arms. Nick laughed. 'No. No shadows. I want to see you properly.' Kneeling on the bed he reached across and switched on the bedside light. On the notepad by the lamp was a page ofwhorls and faces and doodles and strange shapes and in the centre of them all, framed with Gothic decoration the name Carl Beunet and a curllcued three. Nick picked up the pad and stared at it. Suddenly he was frowning. 'When did you write this?' 'What?' Judy slid onto the bed beside him. and lay down, her arms above her head, her legs slim and tanned on the lknnet. Why did you write his name here?' up. Snatching the notebook from him she hurled it loom. 'To hell with him. You're supposed to be me!' Judy.' Nick's voice was suddenly over her, his face taut with name down. Judy contemplated lying. Her brain was If he found out the truth later he would tell him. Softly she cursed herself for writ at all - a stupid absent-minded, automatic reac in her hand... yesterday,' she said sotly. She smiled, reaching up t..l him winding her arms around his neck. 'She thought might be here, that's all. It didn't sound important.' .'What did she say about Bennet?' Unmoving, he stared down at her and for a fleeting moment she felt a pang of fear. 'She said she was going to see him. Nick, forget her -' 'Did she say when?' 'Today. I told you, forget her -' 'When, Judy?' Nick caught her wrists and disengaged himself violently from her embrace. He sat up. 'She must not go there alone!' Judy stared at him in cold fury. 'So that's it. She wanted you to take her to her shrink! Is that who he is? "Uncle lqicholas hold my hand."' She grabbed the bedspread and pulled it round herself as Nick stood.up. 'Well, you're too late. She,ll he there by now. He's probably got her in a straitjacket alreadyl' Without a word Nick strode past her into the studio. He picked up his shirt and dragged it on, groping for his shoes. Behind him Judy stood in the doorway, still swathed in candlewick. 'Nick please. Don't go.' He turned. 'I'm sorry, Judy. I have to be there. I have to stop her ill can!' The long train of horses and carts which heralded the arrival of Willlam de Braose and his retinue began to assemble in the outer bailey of Breckn Castle on the first day of May. The serfs and townspeople, out from dawn about their ancient rites, tending the Beltane fires on the moors despite the threats from the priests, returned to find the castle full of Matilda sat in her solar listening with Margaret to the clatter of hooves and the rumble of wheels below, longing to hide. She dreaded the meeting with William, try as she might ' to remember Gerald's reassurances, and when her husband's arrival was at last announced she took a deep breath to still her beating heart and walked slowly down into the brisk sunshine to greet him. Dismounting, William looked at his wife as she stood on the steps above him, his face impassive. He was splendidly dressed in scarlet and.green, his mantle clped by a great cabuchon ruby, his fringed beard neatly trimmed. He strode up the steps two at a time and her hand ostentatiously, taking in with one quick, 197 satisfied glance the swell of her belly beneath the flowing lines of her gown. 'How are you, my lady? I meant to be with you long before thia but the King kept me with him.' She raised her eyes from the floor to look at him, expeaing to see anger and resentment there, but his eyes, behind the sternness of his face, were indifferent. She forced herself to smile. 'I am glad to see you, my lord. Very glad.' Her gaze met his for an instant. He straightened his back, pulling his cloak higher up on his shoulder and when he followed her back into the hall it was with a Confident swagger. The moment of nervousness he had felt under the scrutiny of his wife's cool green eyes with their strange amber flecks passed. He stuck his fingers jauntily into his girdle. He owed her no explanations; nor any man, save the King. She herself poured the mulled wine which was awaiting him and stood beside him in silence while he drank. When he handed her back the goblet with gruff words of thanks he stood awkwardly for a moment looking at her as though about to say something else. But whatever it was he changed his abruptly. He turned away, shouting commands to his men, and left her alone by the fire. It took only a day for the castle to be transformed by the comform carried in William's baggage train. Hangings appeared on the walls of the great bedchamber and cushions andfine sheets and covers replaced the rougher wear lent by the Benedictines from the priory. Two men were sent at once with the Archdeacon's best chair, up the winding track to his house at Llanddeu. Matilda continued without interruption her running of the castle, calling before her determinedly one by one the officers of hethnsband's household and making it clear that, while they mmld all continue their duties she intended to oversee their .activities herself in future as the mistress of the household, and that the servants she had taken on were to be assimilated into it. To her intense disappointment Jeanne was not am- agst the train, and she did not like to ask William why the old nurse had chosen to remain at Bramber. She couldn't prevent herself from crying about it in the secrecy of the great bed, however. She had so much wanted Jeanne t'o be there when the baby was born. Jeanne could comfort her and help and would know what to do if anything went wrong. Of William she saw little. He was constantly busy, riding to outlying castles or closeted with his scribes, writing endless letters which, according to Hugh, kept the clerks so busy that William had to pay them extra money to fmish night William slept in an upper chamber above hers. She was heavy and lethargic now, with the baby so close, and ireaded that he might try and force his attentions on her though but two months remained until the baby was but he remained distantly polite. Of Abergavenny they spoke at all, and all her tormented questions, so long remained unanswered. . It wasn't long before she noticed the small blonde serving at her husband's side, giggling as he pressed her. 'He'll not grow cold at night, for sure, madam, with that puss to keep him warm,' tartly, seeing her lady's eyes following the round the hall, and Matilda forced herself to smile. to visit the castle but less frequently. He his visits with journeys through the diocese and suddenly even more preoccupied than before with affairs. Matilda missed his attention and the talks they to have, but she was less inclined to make any effort now, . thankfully set aside her reading save where she had to go the household accounts. Now William's steward to do it for her, and she had only to superand soothe his occasional quarrels with Hugh. une succeeded, the windy days of May She began to spend long hours in the small garden she between the kitchen buildings and the chapel, the seedlings she had planted and pulling the ever weeds. Her three women were constantly with her, her to her feet after she had knelt too long on the grass 199 and scolding her when she dirtied her fingers in the earth, never leaving her alone, crowding her till sometimes she wanted to scream. She dreamed often of her lonely hillside vigils as a girl, far from crowded castles, and fought to keep herself shouting out loud with frustration. 'Oh God! When will t-bi waiting be over!' She rounded on Margaret at last.*'I shall go mad. How do women put up with it!' Margaret looked shocked. 'It's our place, my lady. We must be patient like the Holy Virgin.' 'The Holy Virgin was a saint, I'm not,' Matilda retorted. She pulled viciously at a string of bindweed. 'If it wasn't for this garden I would throw myself off the top of the keep. I never dreamed child-bearing could be so awfid.' Margaret lowered her eyes, embarrassed. 'My lady, it's not for much longer,' she whispered soothingly. 'It's long enough. Every minute is too long. And we need rain f these god-forsaken herbs. Why doesn't it rain?' She up, furious, at the clear blue sky, determined to be out of . Hem'by Hell and Elen were sitting on the wall quietly together, their veils pulled forward round faces to keep off the sun. put her hand up to Margaret's shoulder and pulled hero, heavily from the ground, shal6ng out her skirts. From the forge on the far side of the bailey came the sound of g and the hiss of a horseshoe going into cold water. She looked around, vaguely soothed by the fmiliar sights, but it was only the promi she had made to herself that once e was free from the burden of the child she would ride up to see Gerald in his own house whichbolstered her in the long dreary days. She put her hnd to her back wearily. The lying in woman had been at the castle now for two weeks. The wet nurse had been chmen and sat thi very moment on the steps of the chapel, suckling her child in the drowsy sun, oblivious of the horsm which stamped around her, waiting their turn at the forge. Throwing down her trowel Matilda lowered herself onto the little wall beside Elen. She had had it built bounding the on the side that faced the bailey and althoughit was to keep marauding dogs and animals out and keep the hooves of excited horses from the tender young plants, it a useful seat. She turned to watch the activity in the r beyond. On the far side of the cobbled area beyond the knot of Welshmen stood talking together urgently, their excitable lilt plainly audible above the noise of the Then, as she listened idly to the unintelligible music speech they suddenly fell silent, listening to one of number who, with waving arms and much gesticulation, moved into the centre of the group. They all looked at other and then to her surprise over their shoulders her, and she saw that they were crossing themselves, making the sign against the evil eye. 'What's the matter with those men?' she asked uneasily. . Elen, following her gaze, smiled a little ruefully. 'They'll about the green water, my lady. I heard in the hall morning. It's magic, so they say, and a message from Green water?' Matilda turned to her with a little frown. heard nothing of this. Tell me about it.' 'It's nothing, my lady. Stupid gossip, that's all,' Margaret hastily. 'Don't be foolish, Elen, talking like that. serfs talk.' Her plump face flushed with anxiety. 'It's not indeed,' Elen defended herself hotly. She put her to the irrepressible curly hair which strayed from her l no matter how hard she tried to restrain it. 'Everyone was about it this morning. It happened before, a hundred ago, so they say, and then it was a warning from God he was displeased about a terrible murder there had The blue eyes in her freckled face were round with 'It's a warning so it is.' as though the cold shadow of the moun had reached out and fallen over her. 'If it's a warning,' 'it must be meant for me. Where is the water, 201 'It's Afon Llynfi, machm, and the Lake Llangorse which it flows from, up in the Black Mountains yonder.' She crossed herself hastily. 'They say it is as green as emeralds, and runs like the devil's blood the whole way down to the Wye.' Nell pushed a furious elbow into her companion's side. 'Be quiet,' she hissed. She bad seen Matilda's face, chalk-white, and the expression of horror in her eyes. 'It's stupid to talk like that, Elen. It's all nonsense. It's nothing more than pondweed. I heard Hugh the Bailiffsay so bimlf. He's been down to Glasbury to take a look at it.' Matilda did not seem to have heard. 'It is a warning,' she whispered. 'It's a warning about my child. God is going to plnlgh my husband for his cruelties through my son.' She stood Up, shivering. 'lqousense, my lady. God would never think of such a thing.' Mrgaret was crisply practical. 'Elen bad no business to repeat such stupid gossip to you. No business at all.' She glared at Elen behind Matilda's back. 'It's all a fantasy of these people. They're touched in the head.; She looked disdainfi.dly at the group of Welshmen still huddled near the kitchens. 'Now, my lady, you come in and lie down before the evnlng meal. You've been too long out in the air.' Scolding and corlng, Margm, et and Nell led their mistress back into the cool dimness of the castle, with Elen following unrepenumt behind. Matilda lay down as they insisted and dosed her eyes wearily, but she was feverish and unsettled and she couldn't rest. She didn't go down to the crowded hall fo the evening meal and at last as the shadows lengthened across the countryside to the west she sent for Gerald. In spite of Margaret's soothing wolds she became more and more agitated waiting for him. Her hands bad started shaking and she began to finger the beads of a rotary. 'Holy Mary, Mother of God, spare my child, p|ease, pleme, spare my child. Don't let him be blamed for William's wickedness.' The half-formed prayers caught in her throat as she walked agitatedly up and down the room. When at last, out of sheer hustiou, she was persuaded to sit down again by the empty in her chamber with Margaret and Nell and two of her i women, she felt herself near to panic. they heard the steady slap of sandals ascending the and she pushed herself eagerly to her feet.' Arch she exclaimed, but she slumped back into her chair By the light of the rushlight at the top of the she saw the bent figure of Father Hugo. thousand apologies, my lady,' he muttered, seeing her only too clearly. 'The Archdeacon is not at He has ridden urgently to St David's where his the bishop has died. When I heard the messenger's I came myself to tell you. I thought perhaps I might be to help?' voice tailed off as he stood anxiously before her, his ', and concerned, as he took in the signs of distress in mistress's eyes. and smiled faintly. 'Good Father Hugo. very kind to me.' She hesitated. 'Perhaps I'm i heard about the River Llynfi, and I was She lowered her eyes. 'It is many months since my trouble at Abergavenny, but still it haunts my was frightened it was God's warning that my child suffer.' She looked up again, pitifully seeking stood staring for a moment, puzzled. He knew from confessions what she feared for the baby, and ' heard something about the river. The latter he dismissed as Welsh talk. He drew his brows together i to think what would be best to say to this distraught He bad bac no experience before offemales and their and groped for the words which would relieve the look in her eyes. at peace, my daughter. God would not punish an inno babe. The Archdeacon has told you as much.' it not written that the father's sins shall be visited on child?' she flashed back at him. was taken aback and did not answer for a minute. Then 203 he bent and patted her hand awkwardly. 'I will pray. I will pray for guidance and for your safe delivery, as I pray every day. God will spare your child in his mercy, I am certain of it.' He bowed, and hesitated, waiting for her to say something else. When she made no response, he sighed and, backing away, turned and plodded back down the stairs. She slept hardly at all that nigltt, tossing on the hot mattress, her eyes fixed on the rectangle of starry sky visible through the unshuttered window. Then at last as the first light began to push back the darkness she got to her feet and went to sit in the embrasure of the window, gazing out over the misty valley, watching as the cool dawn crept across the forests reaching towards the foothills of the mountAin.. Behind her, as the room grew fight, Margaret slept without stirring on her truckle bed. She was sitting in the solar, alone save for Elen, stitching the hem of a small sheet for the empty cradle by the wallwhen the chaplain once more padded up the stalrsand stood bowing before her, out of breath from the climb. He was agitated and pale him.lf but seeing her face with the great dark rings beneath her. es as she looked up at him, he felt a new and unexpected wave of compassion. 'What is it, Father?' she smiled gently, the sewing falling into her lap. He twisted his wrinkled old hands together uncomfortably. 'I told you, my lady, that I would pray for guidance last night. I knelt for many hours in the chapel and prayed to Christ and St lqicholas, our patron.' He winced, remembering the draught on the cold stone, which in spite of the straw-f'dled hassock had left his old knees rhlmticky and swollen. 'Then I slept, and I had a dream. I befieve it was in answer to my prayer, my lady.' He crossed him.e.elf and Matilda and Elen, glancing at one another nervously, followed suit. 'The dream told you the reason for the river being green?' Matilda's voice was awed. 'I believe so, madAm An old man came to me in my dream, said that Christ was greatly displeased.' He paused and Matilda rose to her feet, ignoring the sewing which fell to rushes, her eyes wide, one hand straying involuntarily to She felt suddenly sick. 'Why?' she whispered. is Our.Lord displeased?' ,'It is something that Sir William has done, my lady.' The in a hushed voice, glancing over his shoulder as did so. 'But it is something he has done here. He has kept property for himself which was granted to our chapel. It . to be used both for its upkeep and for works of charity and William has not allowed the money to come to us.' stared at him for a moment in silence. 'You're me that Sir William is misappropriating church prop she said at last. shrugged apologetically. felt like laughing hysterically. 'And this is an offence enough to cause the mountain waters to change their She turned away from him so that he couldn't see her She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. It took a to get herself under control again. Then she turned him. 'Have you told Sir William of this dream?' she his head vehemently. I shouldn't at the moment. I shall try to i'md out indeed withholding tithes due to the chapel, and he is doing it knowingly. I am sure there has been ..mistake. He would never take something which was the waited until he had gone before bursting into tearful then she shrugged; wiping her eyes, and looked at in despair. 'I wish the Archdeacon were here, Elen. He know what to do.' She sighed. 'He would know the t about Father Hugo's dream, and about the river waters.' took up the sewing which Elen had recovered from the and sat down wearily. are saying, my lady,' Elen began cautiously, 'that is, the townsfolk in Aberhonddu and Hay are saying that the river runs green for another reason. They say it is because of the King's great sin in taking Walter of Clifford's .daughter Rosamund to be his mistress and casting off Queen Eleanor She glanced at Matilda shrewdly, her blue eyes merry in her freckled face. 'I think it is more likely to be for the sins of a King, than of one of his subjects, however great, that the waters of Afon Llynfi should change colour, don't you?' 'I suppose so.' Matilda walked over to the narrow window and looked out across the valley. Sheets of fine rain were sweeping in from the mountain and the smell ofsweet earth rose to her from her tittle garden in the bailey below. She leaned out and sniffed appreciatively. 'I pray your story is true, or Father Hugo's- I don't care which. As long as the warning is not for me. And who know', perhaps Margaret was right. Perhaps it is just pondweed.' 'Smelly it is, machrn, anyway, Hugh says,' Elen put in briskly. 'He thinks it's because there's beet no rain, simple as that it is. And now thi morning the mitrhas come so we'll soon know, if the green all goes aw/ty. And your plants will be pleased by it, so they will!' inside the room and closed the door. 'Jo! Thank God, I'm in time!' Carl Bermet stood up, taking his glasses off in agitation. can't come in here. Please, leave at once! Who are you?' towards Nick. Nick was looking at Jo. 'Jo asked me to come,' he said. He at Bermet for the first time. 'My name is Franldyn. a friend of hers.' 'I thought I told you, Dr Franldyn, that Jo has asked you involve yourself in this matter!' Bennet stood looking at Nick, his face stem. 'Dr Franldyn is my brother,' Nick replied shortly. 'Jo, for sake explain.' does not know you're here.' Atmiously Carl Bennet put hand on Nick's shoulder. 'She is in a deep trance. Now I must ask you to leave -' 'Jo? Dear God, what have you done to her? You bastard!' knelt at Jo's side and took her hand gently in his. I call the caretaker?' Sarah said in an undertone. She mr hand ou a bell by the door. Bennet shook his head. He 'Please, Mr Franldyn. You must leave. I-am sure you it would be dangerous for you to interfere at this 'Rosamund Clifford,' Sarah whispered. 'Do you think she was an ancestor of hers?' Bennet looked away from Jo's face, suddenly thoughtful. 'Ancestral memory? Tranfferred genetically? I've read some interesting papers on the subject.' He shrugged. 'I don't believe it myself, but we'll have to see what part this Rosamund plays in the story. I should wake her now.' He glanced at his watch. 'She's getting tired. She has lived through six mouths in that world of hers.' 'Oh wait, Carl. Can't we fred out about the baby - I know she would want you to ask about it-' Sarah broke off maidenly as the door behind her opened. Nick stared into the room. For a moment none of them spoke, then, catching sight of Jo siv-ing on the chesterfield, Nick was staring at Jo's face. Her eyes were :at him quite normally, but she did not see him. The she was watching was in another time, another place. swore this wasn't dangerous. And she asked me to come her,' Nick went on, controlling his temper with an only got her message an hour ago. I insist on staying. want me to.' They no longer looked at They seemed to stray through him, unfocusing, the dilating rapidly as though she were staring directly at Slowly Nick released her hand. He backed away and sat down on the edge of a chair. 'I am staying,' am not letting her out of my sight!' threw herself back against the sofa with a moan 2O7 of agony. Her fingers convulsed and she clawed four parallel grooves in the soft hide of the upholstery. 'Holy Mother of God' she screamed. 'Where is Jeanne? Why doesn't she come?' There was a moment's total silence in the room asthe three looked at her, electrified. Nick bad gone white. 'Make it stop,' Jo moaned. 'Please, someone make it stop.' arched her back again, catching up one of the velvet and hugging it to her in despair. God's sake, Carl, wbat's happened?' Sarah was rooted 'Bring her out of it. Wake her quicldyV at down beside her. 'My dear, can you hear me? I to fisten to me -' He broke offwith a cry ofpain as his hand and dung to it. Her face was wet with and tears. sake, wake her,' Nick cried. 'What's wrong with a baby.' Sarah's voice cut in as Jo let out 'Women do it all the time.' ' women, perhaps,' Nick snapped. His skin was her up, man, quickly. Do you want m kill Jo screamed gain. you hear me?' Bennet battled to catch her still. 'The birth is over, Jo. There is no are going to sleep, Jo. Sleep and rest. And you will wake gently. Can you hear me, your eyes and rest...' longl' Elen looked at Margaret, frightened. Matilda's face with a cloth wrung out in sweet Jesus' sake, isn't there anything we can 'at the midwife who was once stomach beneath the bloodstained was practically unconscious now, propped deep straw litter of the childbed mke it soft and smooth. Between each ; drawing her down into before another spasm of rending agony began to build, tearing her back to screaming ne. Only the warmth of the blood in which she lay soothed 'There now. He's nearly here, the boyo.' The birthing 'woman was fumbling beneath the sheet. 'Another pmh or my lovely, and it'll all be over. There's brave, it is.' She imperturbably as Matilda arched her back in another contortion and a further spurt of blood soaked into . The rosary they had put in her fingers broke and acrms the floor. Horrified, Margaret cromed it was left to Elen to twist a towel into a rope and : it to Matilda to grip as, with a final desperate convulsion, , rid itself of its burden. i For a moment there was total silence. Then at last there was feeble wail-from the bloodstained scrap of life which lay. her legs. Matilda did not hear it. She was spinning into exhausted sleep, her body still hunched agmintt 'Is he all right?' Margaret peered fearfully at the baby as produced her knife and severed the cord. None of doubted Matilda's prediction that it.would be The baby, wildly waving its tittle arms in the air, let out It was unblemkhed. 'There, my lady, see. He's beautiful.' Gently Elen laid the arms. 'Look at him He's smiting.'. Fighting her exhaustion Matilda pushed away the birthing bad been trying roughly to massage her stomach. herself up onto her elbow, trying to gather her The moment she had dreaded was here. Somehow clawed her way back to wakefulness and with outward she received the baby and gazed down into the small face. For a moment she could not breathe, then ' she felt a strange surge of love and protective joy for firstborn. She forgot her fears. He was beautiful. She her face in the tittle shawl that bad been wrapped round him and hugged him, holding him away from her again only to look long and lovingly at the deep blue-black eyes and tiny fringed lids, the button nose and pursed mouth, and the thatch of dark, blood-stained hair. But as she looked the child's face grew hazy and blackened. She watched paralysed as the tiny features became contorted with agony and she heard the child begin to scream again and again. They were not the screams of a child, but those of a grown man, ringing in her ears. In her arms she held a warm woven shawl no longer. She was clutching rags, and through the rags she could feel the bones of a living skeleton. Thrusting the body away from her with revulsion she feverishly threw herself from the bed and collapsed weakly on her knees, retching, at tl feet of the terrified women who hadbeen tending her. tSweet Mary, Mother of God, save him and save me,' she clutching at the coverlet convulsively. Slowly the around her began to swim, she saw the great bed rock a deep roaring fdled her ears, cutting out all the other md slowly, helplessly, she slipped tothe floor. 'J reached her first. 'Jo! If's all right. Jo, please, Jo gathered her limp form into his arms, cradling her ', man. Beunet knelt beside the. 'Let me ee her. ie pped his ngsr in her face. 'Listen to me, Jlt are going to wake up now. Do you hear me. a moment of total silence. Outside the sound of a poiklm .wg in the.Marylebone Road brought the back into the room. JoY, She opened her eyes and lay looking up at Nick. The mtd anguish were slowly clearing from her face as she em, dhenelf upright. 'Jo? Al.m all right?' Nick's voice was gentle. He still had hi arm her shoulders. She frowned, staring round the room, looking first at Bem,et andthen at Sarah who was standing, white.faced, by the desk. Then her gaze came back 1o Nick. She smiled weakly. 'He's dead, in't he?' she said shakily. 'Jo, love -' Nick pulled her dose, his face in her hair. 'None it happened. Nobody died -' She stared at him 'Don't lie to me.' Her voice was very 'I want to know the truth.' Her gaze travelled past Nick '.'Archdeacon?' The room in Devonshire Place faded peered toward the end of the bed. She was once lying beneath the ove but now they were cleansed. had come outside and the room was lighted with a torches. Gerald held a crucifix in hi. hand and he was paive 'The child is dead.' She heard her voic as a hollow whisper asdust. Gerald kissed the crucifix calmly and rocked it back into his Then he came to the side of her bed and put hie cool 'Not at all,' he said cheerfully. 'The child is ilUalling manfiy. I've seen it. A fine healthy boy, my lady, to rest.' His grave eyes surveyed her carefully, in the disarrayed tangled hair all over the pillow, the pal damp skin, the quick shallow breathing. 'You have a touch Enough to cause some wandering of the mind in your overwrought condition, but there is nothing to fear, for the yourself. I have ordered sleep-wort and poppy for good night's rest will set you right.' She opened her mouth to speak, but sternly he put his fingers his tips and pronounced a blessing over her. Then he stood by and watched as Margaret, looking pale and shaken, brought her the sleeping draught, after which she lay back, exhausted. Too tired to think, let her mind go blessedly blank and .drifted slowly into the welcome forgetfulness of sleep. was she talking to?' Nick found himselfglancing over his Jo settled once more into his arms, her eyes closed. 211 Bennet shook his head. 'She was still seeing her arch. deacon,' he said slowly)He must have spoken to her, reassured her. Look at the flush on her cheeks lmost as if she were asleep-' Gently he picked up Jo's wrist and felt her puhe. Sarah covered her with a blanket and for a moment they all stood looking at her. Bennet took off his glasses. His hnds were shaking. 'The brandy, Sarah, if you please.' 'I hope you're satisfied!' Nick rounded on him. 'Didn't you realise after last time, how vulnerable she is? Didn't it dawn on you it might be dangerous to play with thig.., this asinine previous time with Jo? She nearly died under hypnosis before in Edinburgh. Didn't my brother tell you? She stopped breathins then! Christly He struck his flat onto his open palm. 'You're supposed to be a reputable practitioner! If Jo hasn't .got the sense to stay away from you, then surely to God you can say no to her yourself.' 'Nick?' Jo's voice from the sofa was still very weak. 'Nick. Don't shout. Please.' He swung round to look at her. Jo was struggling to sit up. 'Please, don't be angry. It's not Carl's fault. Everything went fine before. It was just that.., that having a baby...' Tears began to trickle down her face. Sarah tiptoed forward. She crouched beside Jo. 'Here, have some of this. It will steady you.' She closed Jo's fingers round the glass, and helped guide it to her lips. 'My baby really is all right, isn't he?' Jo asked after a moment as she pushed the glass away. Nick and Bennet looked at eachother. 'Jo.' Bennet waved Sarah away and sat down on the sofa next to her. He took her hands in his. 'What,s happened?' She glanced-wildly from him to the others and back. 'What's wrong? It was some sort of hallucination, wasn't it? That way he changed in my arms.. That wasn't real. Why don't you tell me? My baby is all right?' Bennet swallowed. He was still ftrmly holding her wrists. 'Jo, my dear. There is no baby. That was all in the past. world. Another age. Another you. There is no baby was full ofcompassion. 'But I gave birth to him! I held him ...' Jo was crying now. She stared round bewildered. 'He was here... my arms...' i Bennet held out his hand to Sarah for the glass. 'Drink a more of this, Jo. It will help to clear your mind. The was so real for you it is hard to imagine it did not you must try and put things in perspective.' him Nick and Sarah exchanged glances. Without a measures of brandy and taking one handed the other to Nick. He sat down heavily the edge of the desk, his hand shaking as he raised it to his Bennet beckoned Sarah over. He stood up. 'Sit here with a minute,' he said softly. As Sarah took his place and put a comforting hand on Jo's he spoke to Nick in an undertone. 'Is there someone at home to look after her?' Nick nodded grimly. 'I shall he.there.' I suggest the best thing is for you to take her back her to bed. All she needs is a good night's sleep. I'll something.' He reached into his desk for his pre pad. 'You mentioned that she nearly died under Do you know the circumstances? You must she did not tell me, and neither did your brother.' 'She doesn't know.' Nick glanced at Jo. He lowered his still further. 'I think you should speak to Sam. He was 'Dr Franklyn did try and contact me.' Bennet frowned. oAnnl said I was not to confer with him. I must confess I speak to him. I suspected something must have before, in spite of her protestations, but nothing like He ran his fingers through his hair. 'Nothing.' Nick scowled. 'It is obviously time you and Sam got whatever Jo says. I'll tell him to get in touch with Meanwhile, can you be sure she is all right?' Bennet glanced at Jo. 'I'll give you my home number. If anything happens over the weekend to worry .you, ring me.' He frowned. 'On Monday I fly to Chicago for ten days. It can't be avoided- but, I can give you the name of a colleague -' 'Don't bother.' Nick stood up. 'She won't need to see anyone else. I shall take care of her.' It was another hour before Jo was well enough to stand. Helped by Sarah, Nick half carried her out to the waiting taxi .and thankfully climbed in beside her and sat back, putting his arm round her shoulders. 'Feeling OK now?' She drew away slightly. 'I'm fme. I'm sorry. I made a fool ofmyselfin there.' 'It was hardly your fault.' He stared out of the window. 'I've asked the driver to stop offat a late-opening chemist.' 'Why?' 'Bennet's prescribed something to help you sleep tonight.' He felt in his pocket for the prescription. it out of his hand. 'You know'what I hink of Nick. Tell the driver tO go straight to Cornwall She tore the paper into tiny pieces. 'You can drop then go on hack to Judy.' voice was threatening. stared at him defiantly. 'That is where you She is the only person who knew what I this afternoon. I don't know why I told her really.' eye wearily, letting the scraps of the prescrip onto the floor of the cab. you wanted me with you,' Nick said 'Pedml!Pleme, Nick, tell him not to go to the chemist.' the driver, Nick turned hack to Jo. Her 'Do you wear a hand inside, guy?' The driver climbed out ater they the fiat and came round to open the door. Nick w holding Jo's arm and in spite of herself she knew e was still shaking too much to walk upstairs alone. She shook head firmly however. 'We can manage, thank you.' ill, have you, love?' Ignoring her protest the driver her onto the pavement. I -trniled wanly. 'Nothing too had. I've just had a baby.' looked down at her slim figure. 'I see.' He released her went to close the door of his cab. 'That's the reason for all . bleedin' confetti, I suppose!' He jerked his head towards m the floor, then with a grin he headed towards the ; seat once more. 'He didn't believe me,' sh said as I don't think he did.' Nick took the key out of her hand the front door. Then unceremoniously he picked and carried her up the stairs. He set her down gently on the sofa. 'Shall I call Sam, Jo? He to come and look at you.' Jo sat up and swung her feet to the floor. 'I'll be t'me, going to have a hath, then I'll go to bed. There's no you to stay. Really.' She glanced at him. At Bennet's i in the tsxi she had been glad he was there, been reassured his touch, but something had happened as he bent and : had been consumed with panic. It had oblit , other feeling in her for a moment, even making her the haby. She had felt herself go rigid in his arms, her , as swiftly as it had come her king like a leaf. She clenching her fists. 'Please, Nick. Can't you I want to be alone?' He was tom between concern and the usual 'At least let me wait until you're in bed,' he said at last. come near you, if that's what's worrying you. But I to stay a while. Suppming you fainted in the hath or ;he had been on the point ofprotesting that she 215 'OK,' she said at last unwillingly. 'Thank you. Perhaps you can make some tea or something. I won't be long.' 'At least let me stay next door on the sofa.Y He tried one more time when she was at last in bed and a hot whisky and lemon stood on the table beside her. 'lqo, Nick. Thanks, but no.' She took his hand. 'You've been marvellous, but I need to be alone. I'd rather you went. I shall beOK.' 'You won't play the tape of what happened or anything stupid to upset you?' 'No. I'm going to sleep.' Her patience was wearing very thin. Nick looked at her for a moment, then he shrugged. 'Right. Have it your own way. I'll be at my flat. Promise me you'll ring if you need me.' 'Not going hack to Judy?' She couldn't resist a f'mal dig. 'No.' He scowled. 'You haven't promised.' 'I promise. Now go.' She sat unmoving until she tnily heard the door bang behind him. Then at last she lay hack on the pillows and allowed the tears to fall. How could she tell h how much she :wlmted him to stay? Or how much she was suddenly afraid of It was just beginning to grow light when she woke sud For a moment she did not-know what had awakened as she stared around the shadowy room. The lamp was on by her bed, but outside, between the curtains, she pale light of dawn above the roof tops. Then she it again. The hungry cry of her baby. Sitting up, she flung back her hair and reached slowly towarda ..cradle on the far side of the bed. fell asleep at last with the bedside lamp on, unable to herself to face total darkness. Outside h window the hot and stuffy. Slowly the pubs in Gloucester Road from the people strolled home, enjoying the heady magic of a Restlessly she turned on her pillow, trying to hlfhearing the noise as she dried . Outside the treet quietened. A stray breeze, scent of heliotrope from amongst the pleached garden beside Kensington Palace, stirred and somewhere a cat yowled, knocking over an which rolled down a flight of steps into the She was lying on her side, her hair loose her arms round the pillow. 217 It wasn't there. The room was silent. And empty. For a moment she sat quite still, completely bewildered, then, slowly, she remembered and with a sigh she flung herself back on the pillows. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Her arms felt empty, desolate; she ached with loneline. It was as ifpart of her had been removed. The baby, with his downy hair, his tiny fringed eyelids, the fragments of caui still clinging behind his ears, the pale blue swaddling bands which had imprisoned his little fists as he lay in her arms, staring up at her with so much love and trust. 'Oh God!' She turned over and buried her face in the pillows. 'It was a dream. A stupid, bloody dream!' She groped on the bedside table for a box of tissues, then she pulled her clock to face her. It was half past four. She had begun to shiver violently. For a moment she lay huddled beneath the covers, trying to get warm, then bly she sat up again. It was no good She would not , again and she was getting colder by the minute. She - fervently she had allowed Hick to stay now. She someone to talk to. Her head was splitting and her ached. She crossed her arms, trying to ease the discm, and suddenly felt a cold wetness on the front of her . She stared down at herself in horror, then she shot out 0fbed. Running into the bathroom she turned on the light and ped down the ribbon straps, letting the thin cotton slip to the floor, leaving her standing naked in front of the mirror: Her breasts were full and tight, laced with blue veins and even as she stared in fascinated horror at her reflection she saw a drop of watery blue liquid forming on her left nipple. Her heart was pounding violently. Desperately she tried to control her tears as she reached for her bathrobe from the back of the door and folded it around her. Knotting the belt she groped her Way into the living room and reached for the phone. Her hand was shaking so much she could scarcely dial, but last she could hear the tone. It was several seconds before receiver was lied. 'Hick. Oh Hick, please come.. Please.' She struggled to her voice steady. . 'Jo? Is that you?' The voice the other end was so quiet it was a whisper. It was Sam. 'What's wrong?' Jo took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. 'I'm sorry to ou, Sam. Can I speak to Hick please?' There was a slight pause, then his voice, very gentle, came not here, Jo. Is something wrong?' 'Not there?' she echoed bleakly. afraid not. What is it? You sound frightened. Has happened? Tell me, Jo.' Jo swallowed hard. For a moment she could not speak, then whisper, 'Sam, can you come over?' He asked no more questions. 'I'll be there in t'een min he said at once, then he hung up. Aiier she had rung offJo didn't move. Slowly the milk was into her robe. Her teeth were chattering in spite of the and she huddled on the edge of her chair, herself gently back and forth, only dragging herself at last when she heard the sound of a taxi in the quiet outside. She reached the entryphone at the same it buzzed. Sam came up the stairs two at a time. 'What is it, Jo? Are you ill?' He closed the door behind him staring at her. She saw with a quick pang of misery he was wearing one of Nick's jackets over his dark roll was looking, he thought irrelevantly, more beautiful he had ever seen her, her long dishevelled hair dark the stark white of her robe, her face pale, her huge eyes the shadows beneath them. .'Hick said he'd go back to the flat,' she stammered. 'He said phone.' you did.' Sam steered her into the living room and 219 to-wards a chair. 'Now, tell me about it slowly.' Hesitatingly she told him about her latest visit to Bennet. She glanced at his face, expecting an outburst of anger, but he said nothin and she forced herself to go on. 'Perhaps he knew what would happen. He prescribed sleeping pills for me before I came home, but I never'take them. Nick wanted to stay, but I wouldn't let him so I suppose he went back to Judy after all.' She glanced down at her hands. Sam said nothing. He was watching her face closely. 'I woke up,' she went on with a heavy sigh. 'The baby woke me with his crying- WilliAm he was to he called, like his father and his father's father- but he wasn't there.' Her voice shook. 'And then I found -' she stopped. 'I found that I'm...' She hesitated again, suddenly embarrassed. Mutely her hands went to her breasts. Sam had seated himself near her on the arm of another chair. 'I am a doctor, Jo,' he said softly. 'You're producing a bit of milk, right?' She nodded, blnlhing. He miled. Getlg up, he knelt before her. 'May I ee?' Softly he pulled hr robe open and looked at her bressts. He touched one lightly. Then he closed the robe again. He smiled. 'It's nothing to worry about, Jo. Spontaneous lactation is unusual but not unheard of. It'll be a bit uncomfortable for a day or two but it will ease off. Stick some tissues in your bra.' Standing up, he crossed over to the table and picked up the whisky bottle. Tlli get some glasses, hll I?' She followed him into the kitchen, pulling the knot of her belt tighter. 'But how is it possible?' she asked huskily. 'Is this another of your physiological reactions, like my hands?' She took the glass fromhim and sipped the neat whL-ky. 'I suppose so, in a way. You obviously went through all the emotional trauma of childbirth yesterday and in some women that would be enough to stimulate the glands. The breast is far more of a machine th-n people realise. It doesn't necessarily always need a pregnancy and a birth to start it working. Adoptive mothers have been known to produce milk for their you know. Anyway, you mustn't worry about it. It's natural. Just leave things well alone and it will calm on its own in a day or two.' He leaned forward and some more whisky into her glass. HIS hand was shak slightly. dog had a phantom pregnancy once, when I was a Is that what I've had?' She managed a grin.. He laughed. 'Something like that. But I don't expect you to puppies.' 'You are sure Nick wasn't there?' Her smile had vanished as she turned away from him. 'You checked in his She paced up the small kitchen and then back, her stop herself shaking, the glass in one hand. 'I still love him, Sam. That's the thing. I love the bastard.' She stopped in front of the staring at the pink geranium in its poton the draining , she leaned forward to pick offa dead leaf and she did not see Sam's face. The cords in his neck stood out r as he stared at Jo's hack. With a little laugh she went on without turning. 'You I said that, will you?' 'No, Jo.' Shaking his head, he recovered himself with an 'I won't tell him. That I promise you.' , to himself as he nodded to the porter House, where Nick had his fiat, and let himself the lift. It was still not quite eight o'clock. He pushed : door and stood for a moment, listening. 'You've. been out early.' Nick appeared at the bathroom razor in hand. 'Make some coffee, will you? I'll be there minute.' Sam smiled. 'Whatever you say, little brother. I trust you : well?' He pulled Nick's jacket off and hung it up. Nick was looking at his watch. - 'I'm going to give Jo a ring see if she is OK. I half expected her to phone last night, the she was in -' 'No!' Sam said sharply. He withdrew the copy of the Daily 221 Telegraph he had under his arm and held it up to scan the headlines. 'Leave her in peace, Nicholas, for God's sake. If eveDrthing you told me last night about her session with Bennet is true, the last thing she will want is to be wakened at this hour of the morning by the telephone.' Nick had turned back to the bathroom. He unplugged the razor. 'I suppose you're right -' 'I know I'm right.' Sam raised his eyes for a moment from the paper to give his brother a penetrating look. 'I suggest you go down to see our mother this morning as arranged and let Jo alone for a couple of days. In fact leave her alone until you get back from your wanderings across Europe. She does know you are going away?' Nick shrugged, He was buttoning his shirt. 'Scotland I can't cancel, but the trip to France I could postpone.' 'Don't.' Sam walked into the kitchen and rmnmaged on the shelf for the jar of coffee. 'It isn't worth it. Jo has medeit clear enough it is over between you. Don't let a temporary wave of sentiment because you saw her unhappy ancJ emotional undo all the good you achieved by walking out on her. You'll just make the poor girl more neurotic than she already is.' 'Why did she ask me to go with her yesterday, then, if she doesn't want to see me any more?' Nick followed him into the kitchen, tucking his shirt into the waistband ofhis trousers. 'Did she, though?' Sam glanced at him. 'She rang Judy, you said, to leave a message for you. Judy of all people. That was a pretty provocative thing to do, wasn't it? If you ask me it was just to make sure you knew she was defying you defying both of us - and going back to see Bennet. I think it is time you showed Jo Clifford you are not going to be treated E-ke that, and the best way is to ignore her.' He fished a loaf out of the bin and began to cut meticulously thin slices, tossing them into the toaster. 'Have you any marmalade? I haven't been able to fred it.' Nick sat down at the kitchen table. He reached for the paper and stared at it unseeing. 'She shouldn't be alone, though, Sam,' he said at last. 'She won't be,' Sam replied. 'I'll ring her later. Remember a doctor as well as a friend. I'll give her a quick check if necessary, and make sure she's in good spirits and at it read her the riot act about ignoring our warn phone me if she wants me?' 'She won't want you, Nicholas.' Sam looked at him solici 'Get that into your thick head before you are really stared morosely beyond the reflection of the dimly-lit bar, through the indigo windows, at the rain Pimlico Road. 'I never thanked you for giving me a good write-up,' she said at last to Pete Leveson who sitting oppite her. She turned her back on the window. it was thanks to you that the exhibition went so well.' Pete was watching her closely, noting the taut lines her nose and mouth, the dullness of her eyes. 'It is of an anticlimax, now it's over, I suppose,, he said sighed. She picked up her glass, staring round the apparent distaste. 'That's probably it.' how is Nick?' His voice was deliberately casual. She coloured. 'He's in Scotland, on business.' Jo? Is she still dabbling in the paranormal?' Judy drank back her Buck's Fizz, then with a grimace she 'Does the name Carl Bennet mean anything to you?' 'Possibly. Why?' o went to see him on Friday afternoon, and the thought was going there was enough to make Nick wet his shot offafter her as if she had left a message that she having tea with the devil himself. Can I have another of hand to beckon the waitress without taking eyes off Judy's face. He gave the order and tossed a five : table. 'Beunet is a hypnotherapist,' he said. 223 'One of the best, I believe. And amongst other things he takes people back into their previous incarnations to treat them for otherwise incurable phobias,' Judy's month dropped open. 'You mean that is what Jo is doing? Jesusl She doesn't believe in that sort of thing does she?' She laughed suddenly. 'She really is loony, isn't she? My Oedl' 'Yon are not a believer, I take it?' Pete was looking amused. 'I am not! No wonder Nick is worried for her sanity. Anyone who believes that kind of thing is -dfiable.' She shivered ostentatiously. 'And imagine, letting yourself be hypnotised.' She her hand theatrically in front of his face. 'I have you under my power,' she intoned. She giggled. 'No wonde she freaked ont when I told her Sam thought she w hi:,id.' Pete we, sitting back, still watching her closely. 'She is doing it for a story, Judy,' he mid tolerantly. 'I think you thould watch what you say, you know.' Judy laughed again. Her third Buck's Figz on an empty stomach w going to her head. 'I don't have to in front &you, do I?' she said archly. 'Or do you think William Hickey is under the table? But seriously, who needs him when I'm i a drink with one of the meet prestigious reporters in Street.' She glanced at him provocatively under her 'You had a thing going with Jo once, didn't you?' leaned back in his Ch-ir. 'I don't believe it was a stiff like her. Everyone who has had an affair with to still like her. What a likeable person she must be!' sarcastically. 'Well, why don't you fred out exactly It would make a good story, surely?' her own story, Judy.' His voice was care hell wouldn't be the rome story if you told it, She ran her finger round the inside of her it pointedly. 'Yours would be much more had huge eyes- light .grey, with radiating streaks in irises, fringed with dark red lashes. Pete contemplated for a moment as he thought over what she had said. Jo a friend and yes, he was still fond of her, but the story, if was a story, would not hurt her. On the contrary, it counteract that bit in the Mail. In fact, why not sell one to the Mail? Give the real version of what was going Sensational, Judy had said.It was a word Pete could not forward he put his hand over Judy's and squeezed gently. 'Why don't I get you another of those,' he said 'Then you needn't lick the glass. Later I'll drop you talk about this some more.' days later Dorothy Franklyn rang the bell of the flat 'I hope you don't mind, Sam, dear. I did want to see you before you went back to Scodand.' She three green and gold Harrods carrier bags on the of the hall then she straightened, looking at him for a Reaching up to kiss him she rumpled his hair affect before walking past him into the riving room. 'When roll going back?' Sam followed her. 'I've a few things to do in town and Nick I could use the flat whilst he's in France, so I'll be here a so I expects' He threw himself into a chair and looked at her. 'You're looking very spry,/Via.' smiled. 'Thank you, dear,' she said. 'Now tell me, how raised an eyebrow. 'What did Nick tell you?' to make me very worried. This reincarnation is all rubbish, isn't it? I don't like the sound at all. I didn't like it when you were working on your under that creepy man Cohen, and I don't like it any I think it's dangerous. It's got nothing whatc.wer .do with medicine, or science. And to think that Jo has got with mumbo jumbo like that!' She shuddered, 'Can't you do something, Sam?' 225 Sam turned away from her and looked out of the window. In the distance he could see a solid wedge of traffic sitting in the broad sweep of Park Lane. 'I'm not sure that I can,' he said slowly. 'I think Jo has already become too involved to extricate herself even if she wanted to. I believe that we are dealing with a genuine case of total recall of a previous incarnation. There are too many facts, too many details.' He sighed. 'Too many things fit into the picture, Ma.' He glanced down at the books on the table. 'I've been thinking about all this very hard over the past week. When I heard the tapes of Jo's first regreasion a lot of hings began to make sense.' He ran his fingers through his hair. 'It has forced me to change my views. I believe, now, that maybe, once in a while, ff a person - or people - have left things undone, or perhaps made a terrible mistake in one life, it is possible that when they are reborn they are given a second chance.' 'And you think Jo is being given a second chance?' Her face was inscrutable as she watched him. Sam smiled. 'Jo. Or someone else. Come n, I'll make you some coffee.' / She followed him to the kitchen. You don't really believe that?' she said after a moment. 'That there is some kind of karmic replay?' She frowned. 'That is an Eastern philosophy, Sam, not one that sits easily on Western shoulders.' She took the spoon out of his hand and began to make the coffee herself. 'But how is Jo in herself, Sam? Nick was very worried about her. Especially when you rang and said she didn't want to ee him before he went offto France. She did say that?' She w watching him carefully again. Sam was searching in the cupboard for some sugar. 'She wat shaken by what happened last Friday and a bit coafuaed.. I think she felt she had made rather a fool of herself in fit efhim, It will all have blown over by the time he gets back !u they will both be glad they didn't meet again to proleg,the emharrasament. Here, let me put the sugar in for 'This theory of yours.' She accepted a cup from him and the sugar hastily. 'Does Jo believe it too?' still fighting it.' Sam frowned. 'And until she accepts is unlikely to accept the wider implication .that others reincarnated with her, so that they can work their destiny together with hers. It has to work like that.' think now that Jo is not the only one.' Thought' she walked back into the living room, carrying her cup. Nick is involved?' She looked at him suddenly. wasn't someone in thig past life of hen?' yes, Nick is involved.' Sam's voice had suddenly lost she asked sharply. She sat down, put her cup on the coffee table. 'And you?' she said after a you involved too?' rather think I am.' Sam sat down opposite her. 'Crazy, He gave her a disarming smile. r proof for this theory?' He looked at her in astonishment. 'How can there have you or Nick had this hypnosis thing done to to find out?' shook his head. 'Some things one knows. One remem shuddered. 'You're giving me the creeps, Sam! I have a load ofnomense in my life. You've let your run away with you. I suggest you go back to and imbue yourself with a good dose of Scots com her coffee quickly. 'Who do you think or were- in her story?' 'Never you mind, Ma. I think we should stop about this.' He stirred his cup energetically. 'Now, have you been buying? Are you going to show me?' refused to be distracted. 'Did this Matilda have many 'At least two. Probably three.' was watching him closely. 'Were they brothers'?' bluntly. 227 He laughed. 'No, they weren't brothers! Come on. Let me get you some more coffee.' She pushed her cup away, irritated. 'I don't want any more coffee. Have you told Nick about this idea of yours?' 'No.' 'Are you going to?' Sam shrugged. 'That depends. I think it would be better if baby brother concentrated on his advertising at the moment - and the delectable redhead in Fulham. There is no point in stirring things up needlessly.'. 'Im glad to hear that.' Dorothy stood up briskly, trying to ignore her increasing panic. 'Sam, I have to go. I've one or two things to do before I catch my train.' She reached up to kiss him on the cheek, then she hesitated. 'But tell me one thing fast. You said you thought you had remembered things from the past. That is such a strange, frightening idea. What have you remembered?' 'It was when I was listening to the tape of Jo's fast regression,' he replied slowly. 'I remembered a ring. A ring on the finger of a man.' He stared at the ceiling over her head. 'Ihave remembered that ring for eight hundred years.' There was silence in the room. Dorothy licked her lips uneasily. 'Why?' she whispered at last. 'Because he was my guest. And I murdered him' It was several days before.Jo's beasts returned to normal. Grimly she worked, typing notes, concentrating on her article about food, using every ounce of willpower she possessed to put Carl Bennet and Matilda de Braose out other mind. She spring cleaned the flat, filled the store cupboards, arranged to go back to Suffolk by train on Saturday morning to collect the MG, and less and less often had to remove the soggy tissues from her bra. Sam had told her that Nick was in France and she was glad. Nick was a complication she could not handle at the moment. Dutifully, each night she took the two Mogadou Sam had prescribed, went to bed at eleven and slept heavily. Unpleasantly heavily. 228 only saw Sam once more. He checked her over with professionalism, ruffled her hair as if she were a naughty drank a cup of coffee and went. She wished he had Pete Leveson rang out of the blue she accepted his to dinner with alacrity. He took her to the Gas and they sat in the huge, dimly lit reception room idly with the ornate chess pieces laid out in front of them they waited for their table. Pete watched her covertly as gin and tonic. 'You're looking great, Jo. Really How is work?' 'It's going quite well actually.' you get on with Carl Bennet? I hope the introduc moved a king's pawn, not taking his eyes and saw her wary look at once. interesting. Thank you Pete.' .He waited for her to say more as she leaned back, staring ' round the room. you fred out anything revealing?' he prompted at last. She reached for her glass. 'The woman never turned up . 'First time?' He picked her up at once. 'So, you've been Did he use hypnosis on you?' He moved one of her her with a malicious grin. 'Three times now.' Gently she took it back from him and it. She moved a bishop instead. 'And?' laughed uneasily. 'It appears I have an alter ego. I still believe I am her reincarnation, I can't bring myself to but this woman is riving a life somewhere there head and it is so real! More real in some ways than here and now.' 'Check.' Pete drained his glass 'You always were useless at Jo. Why didn't you let me help you? We could have the game last at least ten minutes. Tell me about her, r who lives in your head.' glanced at him. 'You're not laughing?' 229 'No. I told you. I fred it fascinating. I have always hankered after the idea of having a past life. It's romantic, and comforting. It means if you luck this one up, you can have another go. It also means that there might be a reason why I'm so unreasonably terrified of water.' Jo smiled. 'I expect your mother dropped you in the bath.' 'She swears not.' Pete raised his hCrtd to the young man hovering in the background and ordered fresh drinks. 'So. Shoot. Tell me about your other self.' k was a relief to talk about it again. Relaxed and reassured by Pete's quiet interest, Jo talked on. They finished the/r drinks and moved to their table in the grotto dark of the restaurant and she went on with the story. She only kept one thing back. She could not bring herself to mention her baby, or what had happened after his birth. When at last she had finished Pete let out a long, low whistle. 'My God! And you're telling me that you intend to let it go at that? You're not going back?' Jo shook her head. 'If I go back again, I'll go a thousand times. I've got to make myself drop it, Pete.'t" 'Why? What's wrong with knowing what happened? For God's sake Jo! It's better than Dallas!' He grinned. 'I wouldn't stop. I'd go back again and again till I had the whole story, whatever it cost. To hell with where she comes from. Whether she's a spirit from the past or a part of your own personality fragmenting up for some reason, or you in a previous existence, she is a fascinating woman. Think of the people she might have known.' Jo smiled wryly. 'She knew King John.' 'Bad King John?' He rocked back on his seat. 'What a story that would be, Jo. Think- if you could interview him through her! You can't leave it there You can't. You must see that. You have to go back and find out what happened next.' Judy was in the shower when Sam rang next morning. Wrapped in a towel she picked up the phone, shaking her wet hair out of her eyes, watching the drops lying on the studio was still running down her legs making pools feet. She dropped the towel and stood in the sunshine from the window. 'Yes, Dr Franklyn, of course I remember you,' she said 'What can I possibly do for you?' heard the grin the other end of the phone. 'I want you do something for Nick,' he said slowly. 'He was feeling low last week - I expect you know. And now he is in . could use some company. Supposing I give you t address. How soon could you be at Heathrow?' I ever want to see him again, and that I'm not ' and that I have a psasport and enough money for a ticket nothing better to do ...' Judy stared at her naked the full length mhTor on the wall in front of her. 'Assuming all that. Except that I shall pay for your ticket. I'll even drive you to the airport if you like. I've got raised an eyebrow. 'You're very anxious I should go, If I weren't such an innocent I might wonder laughed out loud. 'Then I'm glad you're an innocent, Curmn. I wouldn't want you any other way.' Jo at Sudbury on Saturday morning and bore her in an elderly Land Rover. The old house was full of sunlight, every door and window open onto the gar and Jo looked round her with enormous pleasure and Somewhere deep inside she had been afraid the tension weekend two weeks ago might return. Ceecliff produced a bottle of Piram-s. 'Hick you say?' She poured out two glasses as they sat the willow. it up before he went?' parted friends, I suppose,' Jo said cautiously. What Ceecliffthat he had leli her frightened flat and gone straight round to Judy? That he 23! hadn't been there when she needed him and that she hadn't seen him since? She felt her grandmother's eyes on her face and forced a smile; 'I've decided to go back to the hypnotist again. No more hysteria, no more involvement. Just to find out, objectively, what happened.' Coeecliffpursed her lips. 'That is madness, Jo. How can you possibly be objective? How could anyone?' 'Because Dr Bennet can tell me to be. That is the beauty of hypnosis, one does what one is told. He can use my own mind to hold everyr-hing at arm's length.' Ceecliff raised an exasperated-eyebrow. 'I think you're being naive, Jo. Extraordinarily naive.' She sighed. Then heaving herself out of her cbr she turned towards the house. 'But I know better than to argue with you Wait there. I'm going to fetch Reggie's papers for you.' She returned with an attach case. Inside was a mass of papers and notebooks. 'I think you should have all these, Jo. The Clifford papers. Hot much compared with some families' archives, but better than nothing. Most of it is about the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. You can look at that another time. Here. This is what I wanted to show you.' She unfolded an old letter,- the wafer which had sealed it still attached to the back, spidery scrawls of the address faded to brown. ently Jo took it and screwed up her eyes to read the copperplate hand. It was dated 12 June 1812. Jo 'My dear Godfon and Hephew - he's using long interested in your remarks about Clifford Castle, as I too visited the place some years been unable to trace a fa-mi!y connection with -Rosa Mundi, you will remember, was the indomitable Eleanor, wife to King Henry H, dearly have wished to fred some link to so tragic . There is a legend, however, which ties us so close to Clifford. I have been unable in any way, but the story has persisted for that we are descended from Gruffydd, a - though when and how, I know not. it suffice that perhaps somewhere in our veins there runs a of royal blood -' Jo put down the letter, laughing. 'Oh grimaced. 'Don't go getting any ideas above your my girl. Come on, .put it all away. You can look at it Let's eat now/before the food is spoiled.' grandmother rested, Jo drove to Clare. She parked beautiful church with its buttresses and battle parapets, and stood gazing at it, watching the clouds behind the tall double rank of arched windows. Richard de Clare stood looking at that same church? She t now, the last time she had seen him, in the at Abergaveuny, his hazel eyes full of pain and love and green mantle wrapped around him again clasped on the shoulder by a large round enamelled deep into the pockets of her ieaus and at it morosely then, hitching her bag higher on her she let herself in through the gate and began to walk Clare had never stood in this church. One look pillars and high windows told her it had been long after Richard's time. In disappointment she began up the broad aisle looking around her. There were other people wandering around with guide books, in muted tones. Ignoring them she made her way up the chancel steps and stood staring at the altar, i of the last time she had stood before a shrine - was it Breeknock? - with Gerald, saying mass. She remembered mingling of the incense and the candles, their acrid smoke by the cold wind off the mountains which fdtered every comer of the castle. She remembered looking at a carved, painted statue of the holy Virgin andpraying her unborn baby, praying with a faith suddenly so intense, absolute that it had fdled her at the time with a calm 233 certainty that her prayers would be heard. I wonder how long Matilda kept that faith, she thought grimly, her eyes on the cre.which stood on the altar. Did she still have it when she Leveson that she already knew the nor Ceecliff. was conscious suddenly of someone watching her as at the cross, and embarrassed she turned away. In Puritan, so Spartan church, the memories of her past seemed almost indecent, and to the agnostic, r Jo, the urge to go down on her knees and herself as she turned away from the sanctuary was superstition. she retraced her steps and let herself out into the She drove slowly through Clare, savouring the medieval buildings of the Suffolk town, and turned towards the counmy park and the castle. she stood and stared around her. Where of the Clares had once stood were now the ' station. The Great Eastern come, destroyed most of what temained of the its turn had gone., leaving only the empty shell trimmed and msnicured with mown grass i platforms where the track had been. Only a few rem-ained of the castle which had stood for BUt the motte was still there - the high, I mound on which the original keep had stood Jo climbed it, following the spiralling path From there she could see the whole of Clare himmering panorama before her. The air was hay and honey. She stood there her hands on the surviving chunk of if by touching the stones she could reach but nothing happened. There were no at all. through her grandfather's attach case. bedroom, the windows thrown open to the garden, she felt absolutely at peace. The small table was attracting the moths but she didn't notice as she out the old letters and diaries and his notes. Hever had she felt even the remotest curiosity about her Like Ceecliff her interest was in the present, per. because her father had died whilst she was still too young him properly. Her mother Jo rarely saw now. met from time to time, felt a rush of warm emotion as , kissed, then slowly sank into mutual incomprehension as tried to find some common ground. At present Julia ;. A fond smile touched Jo's mouth a moment as she thought of her mother. They would meet in the auDlmn or at Christmas, probably here, at gifts and a little bit of gossip, then their once more diverge. Jo looked back at the letter in hand wondering suddenly how much of her own tarmess a direct reaction against her mother's vapid fluttering. she knew, would have no time for the past either. her the past, like Jo's father, was dead. was only one mention of the distant past in the The mysterious Gruffydd of Wales. Was Matilda an ancestress of hers, through him? But how was possible when William was so implacably the enemy of Welsh? She wished she had noted the names of Matilda's more closely now, and what had happened to them. one name lived in her. memory. Little William. Her got home very late on Sunday evening, exhausted by long drive through the heavy traffic, and she slept , untroubled by dreams, to be woken by the phone. Is that you?' It was Bet Gunning. 'What the hell are up to, giving that story to Pete Leveson?' story?' Jo yawned. She looked at her clock sleepily. really nine? Sorry Bet, I overslept.' today's papers?' Jo could feel her stomach beginning to tighten. 'Daily Mail exclusive - a whole page - by Pete Leveson. Entitled, .o Clifford's Secret Life. It's all here, Jo. Your hypnosis. Matilda de whatever-her-name is ... bloody hell! I thought we had a deal. I thought this was one of your articles for W I 1.' Bet was furious. 'I know we're a monthly. I know Pete is a friend of yours, but you could at least have given me an option ' 'Bet,' Jo interrupted. 'I know nothing about this. That bastard took me out to dinner on Friday night. We talked offthe record, as friends.' 'Off the record?' Bet scoffed. 'That's just what it's not. He's got you verbatim. "Imagine my terror and confusion," Jo said to me last night, "when I found myself alone in an alien world..." ' Jo could feel herself shaking with anger. 'I never said any such thing!' she said furiously. 'I'll sue him, Bet. How dare he:' Her eyes were blazing. 'I'll ring him now, then I'll get back to you ' She slammed down the phone and dialled,Pete's number. It was several minttes before he answered. 'Jo, how nice. Have you seen it?' His voice was laconic. 'lqo I haven't seen it, you turdl' Jo stamped her bare foot on the carpet like a child. 'But I've heard about it. Bet Colnning is hopping mad - but not as mad as I am. Everything I said to you was in confidence ' 'You never said so, Jo,' Pete put in gently. 'Sorry, but not once did you ever mention the fact that you wanted all this kept secret. If I'd known that ' 'You could have guessed, Pete.' Her voice dropped coldly. "You used our friendship. That was the most cynical piece of underhand behaviour I have ever witnessed. And the fact that you didn't tell me what you wanted to do, proves that you knew it.' There was an exaggerated sigh the other end of the line. 'Cool it, Jo. It counteracts the item in the MailDiary the other day: It establishes that you're into something interesting and it keeps you in the headlines. Three plus factors, if you ask When your own story comes out they'll be out there ; to read it!' you use Carl Bennet's name?' Jo was not to be be furious! You had no right without asking him.' if he wants, I'll apologise, but he won't object to some advertising. The Great Public will beat a path to his door. it's super talking to you, but my coffee's perk and I've got to get dressed. Keep your hair on, there's a When you've thought about it a bit you'll realise it's all See you!' Blandly, he hung up. angry, Jo dragged on her jeans and a sweater. Catching her face with a scarfshe grabbed her purse. Gloucester Road underground station she bought a from the news vendor, then she sprinted back to the had said, it was a whole page feature. There were no photos of her - one a glamorous, misty picture three years before at a ball with Nick. He bad been The picture made her look dreamy and romantic ' beautiful. It had been taken by Tim Heacham. three times before she got through. am sorry, Jo, I really am. I didn't know what he wanted it Tim was contrite. 'Hell, what was I to think? Pete was in favour as far as I could see. I had no reason not to give it is such a god-awful picture! It makes me look-' failed her. makes you look quite lovely, Jo, unlike that hard bitch using over your byline.' Tim was grinning. to ring you, as it happened, to check, but you were was in Suffolk.' Jo flopped down beside the phone. She 'I went to look at Clare whilst I was there.' Tim's voice sharpened. 'Why?' you read the article?' Jo was staring at it as she 236 237 spoke. ' "The handsome man whose love had come too late .. The passionate Richard who had to turn away and leave his lady to her fate ...'' She grimaced. 'He came from Clare. I went to see his castle.' 'And did you fred him there?' Tim's voice was curiously fiat. 'No, of come not. Is something wrong, Tim?' 'No.' He said quietly. 'Why on earth should anything be wrong?' That nht the baby woke her again. She was deeply asleep, the sheet thrown back because of the warm hl:midity of the night, the curtaim and the window wide open. She woke very suddenly and lay, wondering what it w she had heard. Then it came again, the rele mewiing cry of a hungry baby. She felt herself grow rigid, her eyes wide in the darkne, not daring to breathe as the sound filled the room. Slowly she forced herlf to it up and grope for the light witch. A the darkne unk back into the comer she round. She could still hear him. Hear the intake of breath between each crem, thin pathetic as he grew more desperate. She premed her ban& against her ear, feeling her own eyes fill with hot tcal folrards in misery as she tried to block out the sound. At last she could bear it no longer. Hurlhg herself out of bed, she ran to the door and dragged it open, closing it bhind her with a slam. Then she ran to the kitchen. With the two doors closed she could no longer hear his anguished cries. Her han shaking, she filled the kettle, banging it against the rain in her agitation. The Scotch w in the living room. To reh it she would have to open the kitchen door. She tood with her hand on thehandle for a moment, then taking a deep breath she opened it. There w silence outide in the hallway. She ran to the living room, grabbed the bottle then she hesitated, loon at the phone. Any time, Sm had id. Ring any time... She knelt and drew it towards her, then she stopped. The fiat w completely silent, rove for the sound of the kettle in the kitchen. She could not ask Sam to come her in the middle of the night a second time, because of nightmare. took a slug of Scotch and the last Mogadon, then she lay down on the sofa in the living and pulled a rug around her shoulders in spite of the hot way she was going back into her bedroom morning. studio, staring at a copy of the photo of Jo and up until it was almost four feet across, had pinned it to a display board. A spotlight picked out with a cold hard neutrality which removed person features and technique behind. he moved across the darkened studio to the deck and flipped a switch, flooding the huge, empty with the reedy piping of.Gheorghe Zamfir, then he to the photograph, standing before it, aru folded, 7 edge of the brilliant pool oflight, the only focus in e vaulted darkness of the studio. him on the table lay a small piece of glass. A he the powder onto it and methodically rolled up a piece sniffed, deeply and then he walked back to the picture. some time later that, with a felt pen, working with care, the tip of his tongue protruding between his he began to draw a veil and wimple over Jo's long, softly hair into Tuesday night, typing up the notes ofher with Rose Elliot. The draR of the article w going and she was pleased with her results. Absently she for the cigarette packet then she drew back. The here sinc the end of June and ; now the eleventh of July. She tossed the packet to the table, typed another paragraph and then got up to coffee. In the ball she caught herselflisteuing for sounds 239 from the bedroom, but none came. The flat was silent. She worked for another two hours, then she switched on the TV and stretched out on the sofa to watch the late t'dm. She spent a second night there. It was about ten o'clock next morning that a knock came at the flat door. She opened it to find Sheila Chandler, one of her upstairs neighbours, standing on the landing. She was a prim looking .woman in her late fiflies, the intense unreal blackness of her iron-waved hair set off by a startling pink sleeveless chiffon dress. Jo barely knew her. She gave Jo an embarrassed smile. 'I am sorry to disturb you, Miss Clifford,' she said. 'I know you're busy. We can hear you typing. It's just that I thought I must look in and see if there is anything I can do to help.' Jo smiled vaguely. 'Help?' she said. 'With the baby. I've bad four of my own and I know how it can be if you get one that cries all night. Staying with you, is it?' The woman was staring past Jo into the flat. ]o swallowed hard. 'He you heard him?' She clutched at the door. 'Oh, I'm not compl!nlng!' Sheila Chandler said, hastily. 'It's lust that on these hot nights, with all the windows open, the noise drifts up the well between the buildings. You know how it is, and my Harry, he's not sleeping too soundly these ]o took a grip on herself. 'There's no baby here,' she said slowly. 'The noise must be coming from somewhere else.' The woman stared. 'But it was here. I came down- last night, about-eleven, and I listened outside your door. I nearly knocked then. Look, my dear, I'm not making any iudgement. I don't care whose baby it is or how it got there, it's just, well, perhaps you could close the window or something. Have you tried gripe water?' Jo took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry, Mrs Ch,ndler -' at last she had remembered the woman's na-me, 'but whatever you think there is no baby:' 240 She repeated the words to herself as she closed the door. at eleven she had sat here, in silence, listening, and had been no sound... went straight to the phone and rang Sam, then she through into the bedroom and looked round. The were wide open. The room was tidy - and empty. only sound was the distant roar of traffic drifting from the Cromwell Road. ; Sam arrived at ten to twelve. He kissed Jo on the cheek and bottle of Liebfranmilch. put on some make-up to try to hide the dark rings her eyes and was wearing her peacock blue silk dress. was tied back severely with a black velvet ribbon. He her up and down critically and then smiled. 'How are feeling, Jo?' The make-up did not fool him, no more than ' invitation. She had sounded point. 'I'm free. My tits are back to normal, thank God!' She a shaky smile. 'Let's open that bottle. I've drunk all Scotch. Sam - I think I'm going mad.' i'Sam raised an eyebrow as he rummaged in the drawer for a it for him. 'It's the baby. I've heard him + 'I see'. Sam was concentrating on the bottle. 'Last night?' The night before. But Sam, the woman upstairs has. him too. She came down to complain.' Her hands were slightly as she reached two wine glasses from the took them from her, his hands covering hers for a 'Calm down, Jo. If the woman upstairs has heard it he a logical explanation. There must he a baby in and you've both heard it.' Jo shook her head. 'It was William.' noise was in thi flat, Sam. She said so. Last night. stood on the landing outside my door and listened but I i hear him -' 241 Sam pressed a glass of wine into her hand. 'May I wander md?' He strode down the passage into the bedroom and d looking round, before he went to the window and, rowing up the lower sash, leaned out. Then, slowly and oroughly he explored the whole flat. Jo waited on the balcony, sipping her wine, staring across to he trees in the square. It was five minutes before Sam ined her. 'I admit it is a puzzle,' he said at last. 'But I'm not con nced there isn't a baby- a real baby- somewhere in the tilding, or perhaps next door.' He had brought the bottle ith -him and topped up her glass. 'Unless - I suppose there a faint possibility that somehow psychokinetic energy is ,ng created, presumably by you - t9 project the sound of a ld crying, but no, I don't think so. It is so unlikely as to be tpossible. I suggest you put it out ofyour mind.' 'I n't,' Jo cried. 'Can you imagine what it's like hearing fie Will cry, knowing he's hungry, wanting to hold him? :ondering why, if I can't feed him, someoueelse doesn't? ,meone who is there, in the pest with him!' 'Jo, I did warn you,' Sam said gently. 'You should have pped while you still could.' |o stared at him. 'You mean I can't stop now?' She snapped t'a stem of honeysuckle. 'No, ofcourse I can't, you're right.' ming on the balustrade she sniffed at the delicate red and d flower. 'I tried to ring Dr Bennet but he's still away in e States. Sam, I've got to work this thing through, haven't I? re got to get it out of my system. And the only way to do that to go on with the story. Find out what happened next.' She rued to face him. 'Please, Sam, I want you to hypnotise me. rant you to regress me.' Sam was watching her closely. Thoughtfully he raised his ms and took a sip of wine. 'I think that's a good idea, Jo,' he id at last. You mean you will?' She had been prepared for a standup ttment. 'Yes, I'll hypnotise you.' 'When?' He laughed. 'Why don't we eat that vexy appetising salad I in the kitchen, finish this bottle and relax, then if the seems right we'll have a go this afternoon.' To her surprise Jo wasn't nervous. She was relaxed in relieved not to be alone in the flat any more, she enjoyed the lunch with him. Several times.she found about Nick, as if she could not avoid the sound but each time she sensed Sam's disapproval and, wanting to spoil the atmosphere between them, she They played music and drank the wine, Sam made coffee while she lay back on the sofa and lis to the soft strains Of the guitar. She was almost asleep when she felt him sit down on the her and gently take the empty wine glass from her 'I think this is as good a moment as any to start, don't you?' i& He raised his hand and lightly passed it over her face, to tk. She could feel herself drifting willingly under his spell. It different from Carl Bennet. She could hear Sam's voice she was aware of her surroundings, just as in Devonshire but she could not move. She was conscious of him and going over to the front door where she heard draw the bolt. Puzzled, she wanted to ask him why, but feel part of her mind detaching itself, roaming free, back into blackness. Suddenly she was afraid. She fight him but she could not move and she could not Beside her, on the sofa, Sam smiled. 'No, Jo,' he said softly. is nothing you can do about it, nothing at all. It never to have crossed your mind, Jo, that you might not be in your new incarnation, that others might have fol you. That old scores might have to be settled and old life, Jo.' He gazed down at her silently for minutes. Then he raisel his hands to her face again. for now, we'll meet in the past. You know your place here. You are still a young and obedient wife there, Jo, and will do as I say. Now, you are going back.., back to flint )revious istence, Jo, back to when you were Matilda, wife f William, Lord of Brecknock, Bullth and Radnor, Hay, Upper Gwent and Gower, back to the time at Brecknock after ill's birth, back to the day when you must once again wel :ome your husband and lord into your bed.' 7 before Jo and Sam bad lunch together, the dining the hotel in the rue Saint-Honor had been very full. stared acrms the table at Nick as he tore his croissant in 'Won't there be any more time for us to be together? ' she coaxed again. He had been furious when she arrived five days before; :to believe it was Sam's idea. 'Why should he, of all you to come here?' he had said angrily. 'He knew my schedule was. It's not as though I'm here for a for God's sake. Oh Judy!' He had sighed heavily, catch, her hands as he saw the tears in her eyes. 'I am sorry, h isn't glad to see you. It's just, well -' He put some papers black case. to feel a little bit hounded.' She J her bag again. 'Don't worry, Nick. I'm as capable geg on a plane going in the opposite direction as I was in this.' Don't be silly.' He pushed the door closed and took the bag ofhar hand. 'Listen. I'm free about eight o'clock tonight. She grinned weakly. 'Right.' I tomorrow is Saturday. I'm going to spend the day with of my clients in Passy. I'll ring him and ask if I can , and kissed him on the cheek, jubilant. 'Thank Nick.' :next week I'm tied up most of the time.' iIt doesn't matter,' she had said meekly, iI shall paint.' now it was Tuesday. The dining room was beginning to Nick was immersed in some sketches and Judy was Petulantly she got up and helped herself to some English . discarded on the next table, then pouring herself They're not even today's,' she eclaimed in disgust 244 245 Hick glanced up. 'They get the new ones in the foyer. Here.' He tossed some francs on the table. 'Get me a Times while you're at it, will you?' But Judy was staring down at the paper on the table in front fher, open-mouthed. 'So, he went ahead and did it,' she said softly. She chuckled. the actually did it.' There was something in her voice which made Hick look up. lven upside-down he recognised Jo's photo. 'What the hell is that?' he said sharply. He snatched the paper from her. 'It's nothing, Hick. Nothing, don't bother to read it -' She was suddenly afraid. After a week without a mention of her nAne Jo's shadow had risen between them again. She stood up abruptly. 'I'll get today's,' she said, but he never heard her. He was staring down at yesterday's copy of the Daily Mail. He read the article twice, then, glancing at his watch, he stood up, folded the paper under his arm andstrode towards the iron-gated lif. He passed Judy in the foyer and never saw her. Impatiently he allowed the lift to carry him slowly up to his floor and wrenching the doors open he strode to their room. It was several minutes before the number in London was ringing. He sat impatiently on the bed, spreading the paper out beside him with his free hand, as he waited for someone to The tone rang on monotonously in Jo's empty fiat. Upstairs, Henry Chandler looked at his wife in exasperation. 'Why doesn't she get an answering machine ifshe's a journalist? If that phone doesn't stop ringing it'll wake that damn baby again.' 'She's gone shopping,' Sheila Chndier said slowly. 'I saw her leave earlier.' 'Did you see the kid?' 'lqo, she was alone.' They looked at each other sicantly. Downstairs the faint sound of the phone stopped. Seconds r both heard the thin protesting wail. are you ringing?' Judy threw back the bedroom door stood in the doorway, staring at Hick. put the receiver down with a sigh. 'I want m know v she did such an idiotic thing as to give that story to Pete He slapped the newpaper with his open palm. v bit ofcredibility she has as a serious iournai if she allows crap like this m be published. Look at this. "I aviolent, vicious man, but my heart belonged :the handsome earl who had escorted me through the moun protecting me from the wolves with his drawn sword." He picked up the phone and rattled it again. 'MadonoisellO Londre$ encore unefois, s'il tusplait.' is nothing to do with you, Nick,' Judy said softly. 'Jo has . for whatever reason, and it can't be undone now. She Pete used to be lovers, didn't they? What more natural she should tell him the story?' saw his knuckles whiten on the phone. 'E b/ merci. autre numbs.o, j o madonoiselle.' fool of yourse, Hick.' probably.' He tightened his mouth griml as he the phone down at last. 'Sam's not there either. . look at this last bit." 'I shall not rest,' Jo told me, 'until learned the whole story'..." Even you, Judy, know now to have guessed that that is dangerous for her.' turned away quickly to hide her smile. 'I don't expect meant it.' stood up slowly and walked across to her, spinning round by the shoulders. 'You knew about this article, you? Down there, in the dining room, you weren't You were triumphant.' His eyes narrowed as he what do you know about all this?' 247 Judy stood quite still, staring up at his face. 'You tell me mething first, Hick Franldynl' She was quite suddenly boilg with rage. 'Are you still in love with Jo? In spite of all her ,vers in this century and the twelfth, are you still in love with ? Because if you are I shall bow out of your life now. erhaps I could write an article or two myself. "How my challenged a man eight hundred years old to a duel over rather woman." That's it, isn't it? You can't bear to think of r in his arms, this Richard de Clare. You can't bear to think those creepy dead hands picking over her flesh, ref--ing to t go of her after all those centuries. You may not want her for g3rseif but you sure as hell don't want him to have her, do m?' She wrenched herself free of him. 'You watcheher, in't you. Last week when you rushed off and left me, you ent to Dr Bennet's and watched her dreaming about making e to anOther man. you had to see it: There are words to scribe people like you, Hick Franklyn -' She broke off with a little cry as Hick raised his hand and rye her a stinging slap across the face. The imlct of it threw n against the wall and she stood there, her hand pressed to r chee her eyes brimming with tearS. 'You bastard -' 'That's right.' His face was hard and very white. 'And there iIlbe more like that if you're not very careful. I've warned m befme, Judy. Leave Jo alone.' He turned to the bed and d .up his portfofio. 'I have a meeting to go to now. I gest it might be better for both of us if you pack your stuff uiclear out before I get back.' 'Hickl' She threw herself at him and clung to his arm. ]ick, please, I'm sorry. I really am. I won't mention her 'lain going back to London tomorrow anyway, Judy. To ,.' Hick's face softened slightly as he saw her stricken 'Bat she doesn't want you. She keeps telling you she m't want you.' {aetber she wants me or not, I want her.' He spoke with mfnmus force, his eyes hardening-. Judy felt a sudden shiver. He was looking not at her, but She backed away from him. 'I believe you're as as she is,' she whispered. 'You can't force a wuman to He stared at her, his attention fully on her again now. echoed. 'I won't have to force her.' He laughed 'I must go. Don't worry about your bill, I'll settle it. see you soon, Judy.' Gently he touched her cheek - still from his slap - then he turned and left her alone. did not move. She stared round the room. The ' of the Daily Mail was still lying on the pillow had left it. She sat down, smoothing the page, and slowly and carefully, taking in every word. When had f'mished she tore out the page and, folding it up very she slipped it into the pocket of her skin. When she left was a bitter smile on her face. was with his back to the window, his arms as, hesitantly, Jo began to talk. Matilda had strength slowly after the birth, but the day came last when, accompanied by Sir Robert and four armed she mounted for the fnt time the little bay mare given her. They rode out of the castle and turned the rocky bed of the Honddu through a and green with ripening oats, and plunging almost once into the woods. "Llanddeu is up there, my lady,' Sir Robert pointed up a their left. 'About three miles, I reckon. We'll go there you're stronger if you like.' But Matilda shook her Gerald had gone to St David's now, confident he was to new bishop, and Llandden had lost its interest. was amazed to find how stiffshe had become, but she her teeth and pushed the bay into a gallop behind as they followed a well-worn track through the heavy, ' woods. They had slowed again to a trot when suddenly pulled to a rearing halt in front of her and drew his 'Stop,' he shouted. The four men with them dosed 249 round Matilda protectively at once, their swords raised and ready. She could feel herself shaking with fear and the plunged nervously away from the horse next to her, sensing the dner. But straining her eyes she could see nothing izi the heavy greenery all round them. She could hear nothing but the thudding ofher own heart. 'What? What is it?' She looked round wildly. -.'See, a rope.' Sir Robert had dinounted. With one s!sh of hi word he severed a rope which had been tied across the at the height of a man's neck as he rode ou a horse. It fell, eeeatained and invisible, into the gra at theirfeet. rWe'd been going any faster, or if I'd been distracted, it woeld have had us all off our hones.' Sir Robert hit the have fled before we arrived. They could be anywhere in the woods by now.' A broken area of trampled greenery showed several people had been ouching behind the thick bony. 'Were they robbers?' Matilda was still trying to soothe her horse, stroking the sweating neck, Wish/ng she herself wasn't shaking quite so violently. She knew it was as much exhaustion as fear, but nevertheless she felt weak and frightened. Sir Robert nodded silently. He had stopped to pick up the rope and was coiling it over his arm. 'Outlaw of rome kind, I'll be bound. I'll have a word with Sir William. I doubt if the Wflsh would set up a trick.like that if they were after reprisals. No one knew which way we were c0minE.' He swung the rope over his saddle and remounted. Matilda noticed he didn't sheathe his sword. 'Reprisal?"Her heart began to hRmmer again at the word. 'That's right. They're bound to come some time.' He turned his horse. 'We'll go straight back, my lady, with your permiion. I was a fool to come out.with so few men. In future when you ride, I will see to it that you have a full escort.' She followed, relieved to be cutting short the ride. The of We!h reprisals had become remote in the months distracted as she had been by the baby and by with all his men. The Welsh she had met in county of Brycheiniog were friendly towards her. lqone to bear any grudge. She shivered. Outlaws. They have been outlaws of some kind, bent on robbery. She let herself believe that they were men from Gwent. it was a relief to be,back inside the castle, but William sent search parties out to hunt for the men had set up the rope, no trace of them was ever found. had melted into the forest as silently and efficiently as if ' had never been. was foolish to ride so far the f'st time out a/er the Sam said softly. He had seated himlfnext to Jo again. are well enough to ride, you are well enough to your wifely duties,' drew in her breath sharply. 'It is too soon,' she Sam said, 'it is the right time. Look at me, my lady. your eyes and look at me.' had been staring towards the far corner of the room. slowly, she turned to him and her eyes focused on his He held her gaze unwaveringiy. 'I am your husband,' he 'You do reco i me, don't you, Matilda'-he proi-e lightly, in the French m,,er - 'I am your to claim you.' 1o!' Jo edged away from him 'My lord, I told you, | tOO oon. He put his hnd out and caught her chin, her face round to his. Then he bent over her and her on the lips.. She went completely rigid, but she did struggle. Sitting up he looked down at her and saw her closed. 'Look at me,' he ttid ru'eateningiy. 'Look at were cornful and cold. felt a sudden surge of anger flow through him. Oh yes, that had been the way she always looked at Wilham. So superior, so dimi.ive, so beautiful and remote that her disdain had lnmanned him but not thi. time. This time ha had absolute control of her body and her mind. He leved himgelf off the sofa and stood looking down at her, forcing himself to be calm. She was watching him docilely enough, her eyes still mocking, but he thought he could see fear as well, hidden, but there, as she stared at her husband and waited. He smiled grimly. 'Stand up, Matilde,' he said slowly. Hesitantly she obeyed him and stood quite still. He looked at her for a moment, then he turned to the tape deck in the comer. From his pocket he produced a cassette which he slotted into the machine. He switched it on and listened as the first straing of an nnaccompanied flute began to play in the room, then he sat down on the chair facing Jo. She had not moved. Her head was held at a defiant angle, her eyes watching him with cool di-in as he sathack and folded his arms. 'Now, my lady,' he said softly. 'I want-you to show me some wifely obedience.' Matilda stared at her husband in horror. Behind him the blind flute player was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the window embrasure. She could hear the everyday noises of the castle all around them; any second someone would walk into the solar. She heard feet pattering down the spirai stair in the corner and the swish of skirts on the stone. They hesitated then ran on down towards the lower floors, the sound dying away into the distance. 'Take off your mantle and gown, wife,' he repeated his order. She glanced at the musician who played on as if he had heard nothing. 'My lord, I can't - I need my maid. Please, this can wait until nightfall -' 'It cannot wait until nightfall.' His eyes narrowed and she could see the vein begi'nning to throb in his neck. He drew the 252 ornately decorated dagger from his girdle and tested the blade again-st his thumb. 'If the fastenings of your gown defeat you, I shall cut them for you.' She swallowed. She had only to call for a servant, to scream, and run. He could not force her, not here. Not now. held her. She could not tear her eyes from his. ' she felt herself unfasten her jewelled girdle and let fall to the floor. Her scarlet surcoat followed it. She paused 'My lord, not here, I beg you -' 'Here, Matilda.' She felt his hands on her head, slipping off head-dress, allowing her hair to fall loose over her then he was unlacing her gown, pushing it down so too fell to the floor. She was lel clad only in her shi. shivered violently in spite of the warmth of the early Behind her the flute player shifted his position slightly as notes of his tune died away. There was a long . unbidden, he began to play again. it off.' William stood back and folded his arms. crossed her hands on her breast, clutching the neck of her shill 'Would you have me stand before the servants, and before your men?' Her eyes her fear eclipsed bya wave of scorn and fury. dodged away from him but he was too quick for her. He her wrist. 'I'll have you stand naked at the whipping before the whole world, if you defy me,' he said r shitt from her body, tossing it to the floor. Panic stricken she raised her hands his face, clawing at him frantically and beneath her a bloody welt opened down his cheek. With a curse he her by the hair, jerking her head back as greedily he her mouth with his own, his hands catching hers and them still as she struggled frantically to escape him. the flute player played on. was breathing heavily, sweat pouring from his face with a shudder she stood still, sensing suddenly that part his excitement came from the knowledge that she was 253 afraid. Raising her chin slightly she stared athim disdainfully. He released her wrists immediately and she took a step back, proud in her nakedness, feeling his eyes on her body which only weeks before had been swollen and misshapen, but now had s|immed ba with the resilience of youth, to a lithe tautness. Only the fldln of her breasts betrayed the recent childbirth and as she moved her head the heavy curtain of her hair swng forward to hide them from him. He licked his lips and slowly he began to remove his mantle. Once again she could hear steps on the spiral stairs at the corner of the chamber. They were coming cloer. She could hear knochg- a loud imigent banging at a door. Near them someone was shouting. She ignored the sound, her eyes on her husband's face, a flicker of mocking amusement showing in her expression as she saw him glance over his shoulder towards the rounded arch covered with a curtain which led towards the stairs. Abruptly he threw his mantle round her shoulders. 'So,' he breathed. "We are interrupted after all, but only for a while. You will forget this little incident until we have another opportunity to be alone, do you hear me?' He drew her to him his hands locked in the embroidered border Of his mantle, her body pressed aalnat his, his eyes fixed on hers. 'You will remember nothin about it, nothing at all, but when I order you to come to me again, you will come, Jo, do you hear me? Yon will come.' 'JoI' Nick was banging on the door again. He tried the key a second time and cursed. 'Jo? I know you're in there. Open the doorF Outside the flat upstairs a face appeared, peering over the winding banisters. 'She's in there all right. I saw her earlier.' Sheila Chandler came down a few steps. 'It's Mr Franklyn, im't it?' Nick gave her a brief-mile. 'She doesn't seem to be hearing 'Perhaps she's asleep. What with the baby keeping her awake and v-erything., 'Baby?' Nick stared up at her. He frowned, with a sudden shiver of apprehension, mechanically taking in the immaculate wave of the woman's hair and her elegantly cut silk then he turned back to the door and thumped on it his fist. 'Jo, ff you don't open this door I'm going it down!' His voice echoed up and down the silent and above him Shella Chandler's eyes rounded. her husband came to stand beside her, staring When the door was unbolted at last they both craned for Only Sheila saw that it was opened by a man. 'Sam?' Nick stared at his brother; 'What the hell is going Where's Jo?' Sam stood back to let him in. 'Shut up, Nick,' he said 'There's no need for all this noise. Jo,s free.' He door and as he did so Nick caught sight of a long scratch on his brother's face. Sam was in shirt-sleeves - from the front Of the shirt were missing. 'What the hell has been going on here?' Nick repeated as he out Of his way and strode into the living room. It From the stereo the lonely, monotonous sound Of . a pattern into the silence. .'She went into some kind of spontaneous regression.' Sam leani-n-g against the wall, watching his brother closely. me to come over after she'd been having a series of upstairs talked about a baby.' Nick frowned. is the strange part.' Sam threw himself down on sofa. 'Apparently they've heard it wailing. Assuming the do come from this fiat, I can only put forward the the sounds come from Jo herself.' mean s& "s crying?' that or the sounds are being created by the strength s. You've heard of poltergeists! Noises created energy charges within.an individual.' Sam wiped his face a handkerchief. Noticing the blood on it he frowned. .. she flew at me when I tried to restrain her,' he said 255 quietly, dabbing at the scratch. 'No, don't worry. She's all fight now. She's asleep.' Nick gave him a long hard look. Then he strode down the hall towards the bedroom. Jo lay on the bed wearing her bathrobe, her hair loose around her shoulders. 'Jo -' Nick sat down beside her and took her hands gently in hla. 'Jo?' 'Don't touch her.' Sam had followed him. His voice was sharp. 'I was about to awaken her when you started trying to break the door down. May I suggest you go and pour us all a drink while I sort things out in here?' Nick's eyes narrowed. 'I'd rather stay.' 'I am sure Jo would prefer it if you did not. She would be extremely embarrassed to think you had seen her like Sam walked to the bedroom door and held it open t'or him. 'Wait next.door please. This won't take long.' Nick hesitated, then with a shrug he walked through to the living room. He reached for the boule of Scotch. It was empty and he began to rlmma-ge in the cupboard, unconsously straining his ears for the sound of voices. It the distance he could hear Sam's gently monotonous tones and on impulse he tiptoed back towards the bedroom door and listened. 'Can you hear me, Jo?' Sam was standing over her now, looking down. 'When you wake up you will remember nothingof what happened whilst you were hypnotised today, do you understand? You will remember that you asked me to help you, that is all. You will awaken calm and happy, but you will remember that next time I wish to hypnotise you, for whatever reison, you will agree. You will hear my voice and you will obey me. Do you understand me, Jo?' Nick pushed open the door. 'What the hell are you saying to her, Sam?' Sam did not look round. 'Do you understand me, Jo?' he repeated. 'Now, when I count three you will wake. One. Two. Three.' On the bed Jo lay quite still, then slowly she opened her She looked around her, completely dazed, her gaze Nick. answered my question, Sam,' Nick hissed, at furiously. smiled coldly. 'Nor do I intend to. My methods of practice are none of your business,' He sat down the bed next to Jo. 'How are you feeling now? You had ,']tinting spell,' he said. Jo hoisted herself up on her elbow. 'I don't What time is it? We were having coffee-' She sit up but Sam pushed her gently back against the minute, Jo. You'll be all right in a short time, I pushed the hair back from her face with a cool at him. *you|, she said suddenly. 'you made my clothes of H.You stood and watched me while that was playing the flute. You said he was blind, but he , he was watching too -' creased Sam's face. 'You've been dreaming, Jo,' he There was an edge to his voice. 'Oh no, I remember clearly. You ordered me to take offmy Her voice shook. 'You had given orders that no one in, hadn't you? I expect everyone in the castle knew pl,n-ed for me. Did that make you feel big, my Did it? Is that how you get your pleasure?' scrambled across the bed away from him and stood up.. tightened the belt of the bathrobe. 'What a shame that came|' God, she's still in the past,' Nick murmured. 'Sam, happened to her again. For God's sake, wake her up Sam ignored Him . 'Jo calm down. Don't you recog me?' I recogn you|' She pushed her hair back off i face. 'You're...' She stopped short, groping for a name. she put her face in her hands, shaking her head side to side. 'You're not William,' she whispered 257 between her t'mgers. 'You're not William, you're not ... you're not.' Sam caught her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. 'Who am I, Jo?' he said. His eyes held hers. 'Sam,' she whispered. 'You're Sam.' 'And who is this with me?' He was still holding her wrists. 'Nick.' Her reply was scarcely audible. He released her. 'Fine. I suggest we all have a cup ofcoffee. Nick, rather than snooping in here, perhaps you could do that much for us?' He rounded on his brother harshly as Jo walked slowly over to her mirror and stood before it, staring at her face. Numbly she picked up her comb and began to draw it through her hr. With a shrug Nick went into the kitchen. His hands were shaking as he picked up the kettle and held it under the tap. Behind him he did not see Sam walk swifrly down the hall to the living room where he slipped the cassette into his pocket, and then picked up Jo's dress and her bra and panties fim the carpet and stuffed them behin a cushion on the sofa. When Nick appeared he was standing at the open French window staring out across the square. 'How is she?' Nick slid the tray onto the low table. 'Confused and disorientated.' Sam did not tm'n round. 'Give her a little time and she'll be fine.' 'She needs help, Sam. If this is going to happen spontaneously, for God's sake! She needs psychiatric help.' 'You seem to forget, little brother, that that is what I'm here for,' Sam said, turning at last to look at him. 'I warned you both what might happen if she got involved in this. Now all I can do is help. And first I want to see to it she doesn't go near that quack Bennet again.' 'He's in.the States.' Absently Nick picked up a cup and drank. His mouth tasted acid. 'Good.' Sam smiled enigmatically. 'Long may he remain there.' He raised an eyebrow. 'You haven't told me, incidentally, whatyou are doing here. I thought you were in ,Paris until the weekend.' 258 'I changed my mind.' Hick drained the coffee and picked up the coffee pot. 'That was a pretty damn fool trick to play, sending Judy aler me. What was the idea exactly?' Sam sat down. 'It was her idea, old son. I ust gave her the name of the hotel. Where is she now?' Nick shrugged. 'I told her to get lost.' 'I see.' Sam's gaze narrowed. 'And you thought Jo would be interested to hear all this?' 'I don't give a damn ifshe's interested or not. I was worried I saw that article Pete Leveson wrote and I thought be going out of her mind go give him the tory. You I suppcm?' 'I've seen it. And she didn't give, Nick. He took.' Sam his legs out in front of him slowly. 'I must say I it was singularly naive of her to talk to him at all, but not herself these days as we can all see. I want you to her alone, Nick.' He sat forward suddenly. 'Do you I want you to keep away from her. She can't more hale.' think that's for you to say, Sam.' Behind them Jo appeared silently in the doorway. She was wearing jeans a deep red silk shirt, unbuttoned at the throat. Her face very white. climbed to his feet. 'Have some coffee, Jo.' the cup coolly. 'I keep getting the feeling you are trying to run my life. for me,' she said. 'I'm very dl that, but I don't need it.' do need help, Jo.' Sam's voice was gentle. 'And I it. That was why you rang me morning.' bit her lip. 'I wanted someone to talk to. But full-scale : ami--bly. 'You couldn't afford me, love, for full-scale analysis! But seriously, I do want to help I have to go home tomorrow. I'm giving a lecture on r and another on Monday at a post-graduate conference, atie thatl can come back and I want you to agree to see jutt to talk thin through.' 259 She frowned. 'I won't need to, Sam. Really.' 'If you really don't need to, we'll forget it, but if you have any more dreams, any more crying babies, then you must call me. Promise?' Jo sighed. 'All right, I promise.' 'I'll give you my number in Edinburgh so that you can reach me there as weft. And I don't want you to go back m see Bennet. He's away anyway at the moment, I gather, but he's not competent to help you, Jo. He doesn't know how to cope with the reactions he's gain from you and more to the point, neither do you.' He sipped his coffee thoughtfully, not looking at her. 'I know you'll do the sensible thing.' Jo grinned. 'You're the first person who has ever said that to me,' she said. She reached forward and kissed him on the cheek, then she frowned. 'What is that awful mark on your face?' Sam glanced at Hick. 'I scratched it on some wire,' he said quickly. 'Don't worry. I'll live.' He put the cup down. 'And now, I must go and get on with some packipg. I'll give you a lift back to the flat, Hick, shall I? I've got your car. It's parked round the corner.' 'Then I'll have the keys.' Hick held out his band. 'Perhaps you'd grab a taxi, Sam, if you don't mind. I'll come on later. I want to talk to Jo.' 'It will be easier if we drive back together.' Sam's tone was insistent. Stubbornly Hick shook his head. 'I'll be along later.' 'Jo -' Sam appealed to her. 'You're tired. You don't want Hick here.' 'That's all right, Sam, t-bnks. But I do want to talk to Hick as it happens.' Jo smiled almost apologetically. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him again. 'You've been very sweet, Sam, thanks for coming.' Hick closed the door behind his brother thnnkfully and stood for a moment staring at it. Mortice, yale lock, chain and bolt. Why the bolt, in broad daylight when Sam was here? He shot it experimentally. 'What are you doing?' Jo was behind him; she looked appre hensive. 'I was wondering why Sam found it necessary to bolt the door. Unless it was you, of course?' He eyed her thoughtfully. 'I never bolt the door. What are you talking about?' The particular shade of burgundy silk she was wearing suited her exceptionally well. His eyes travelled to her breasts, outlined beneath the low-buttoned blouse. They seemed more prominent than usual. She was looking very beautiful. 'Then Sam must have done it,' he said. 'Did you ask him to hypnotise you, Jo?' He moved away from the door He stared at it absently. She 'I heard the baby crying again and Carl there and I didn't know what to do, so I rang Sam. He was mellous, Nick.' Nick put down the cup. 'He is pretty good, so I've heard,' said cryptically. Jo smiled. 'You heard right.' She raised an eyebrow. 'So. I gather you had company while you were 'I thought Sam might just find it necessary to tell you she come ater me,' Hick said cynically. 'It was the end of us, ifit's ofany interest. As far as I know, she's still there.' He glanced at her. 'Jo -' 'The answer is no, Hick. I don't accept cast-offs.' His face hardened. 'You are assuming too much. I came to see if you had recovered, not to resume our affair. I women to take me back.' 'Good.' She looked defiant. 'I don't think begging would out onto the balcony and stood there for with her back to him. Then she turned. 'Nick, do reincarnation now, after what's happened?' "No. I do not.' 'Then what do you think is happening to me?' 'I think you are the victim of you/" own imagination. Ho than that.' 'You don't think it is possible that everyone lives again? 261 You don't believe that we might have known each other before, when I was Matilda ' 'Ho, I don't.' Hick joined her on the balcony. He put his hands on her shoulders. 'Don't try and talk yourself into this, Jo. It's madness.' 'It was when I fainted at Ceecliff's,' she went on as if she hadn't heard him. 'As I was coming round I saw someone else's face there, in the room. Someone who was you, and wasn't you. Someone beside you ' 'Shut up, Jo. I don't want to hear any more ' 'That person tried to strangle me. I couldn't breathe. That was why I fainted. I thought it was you, but it wasn't. His eyes were different and he had a beard...' She pushed past him and went back inside. 'Hick, you were part of that life. And it's catching up with me.t The people from the past are following me into the present! They are here, in the shadows!' Her voice was rising. 'William, my husband William was here, in my bedroom, and the baby, my baby, little Will. Hick, I started producing milk to feed him! That's why I called Sam. I didn't know what to do!' Tears began to roll downier cheeks. 'And the man at Ceecliff's house reached out of the past to try and kill me, Hick. None of it was my imagination. They were real!' Hick was staring at her in horror. 'Jo, for God's sake, get a grip on yom-elf. You're talking rubbish.' 'Am I?' She took a deep breath. 'How come the Chandlers upstairs heard the baby crying?' 'You should be very glad they did, Jo. That proves absolutely, beyond a shadow of doubt, that it was a real baby they heard.' Nick sat down, still watching her. `you need to get away, Jo. Right away for a few days. Listen, I'm not due hack in the office until Monday ' 'I know aat you're going to say.' She gave him a brittle mi|e. 'Thanlcs, but no.' 'You don't know what I'm going to say. I was going to suggest that you come down to the boat with me ' 'Hick! Don't you understand? I'm afraid of you! Afraid of 'There h no other person, Jo!' Nick caught her arms. 'You've been cooped up too long in this fiat with this story all round you - tapes, books, nightmares. You've got to get away it sends you really insane. I'm going to take Moon to Lymington - I never got round to it when see Ma last. Come with me. You know you've always boat, and the sea air will help get things straight for remember?' Jo hesitated. He was right. She had got to get away. Separate bunks?' Nick grinned. 'Scout's houour. Why don't I-ring the and ask them to get her ready? We'll call in at House and pick up my gear and we could be at -- m a couple of hours or so.' Jo sighed. She stared round the room, thinking of the night alone, waiting to hear if the baby was going start crying again. Abruptly she capitulated. 'OK, I'll Thanks.' He smiled. 'Pack a bag while I phone.' He watched as she towards the bedroom, seeing already a new lightness her. He made the call and then threw himself back on cushions of the sofa. They slipped a little and a bundle of up clothlng fell onto the floor. He picked it up and the garments out, puzzled, then his face darkened. Standing up he strode towards the bedroom. 'Did you do a for Sam as the hors d'oeuvre or the encore?' he her briefs on the bed. She stared at them blankly. 'I don't understand.' :'You don't understand?' Nick threw her dress and bra as well. 'How strange. I should have thought it was It is no doubt part of that precious profcmioual Sam is so keen to preserve. He takes off your perhaps to take your pulse, then hides them under the tidiness' heI Or was it because I arrived unexpee any of my business, of course.' it isn't any of your business!' Jo flared angrily. She up her dress and shook out the creases. She felt suddenly very sick. 'I must have left them there earlier. I don't know. . perhaps last night. I felt so strange last night. I was drinking, and I took the last of the pills -' 'Jo, for God's sake!' 'There is nothing between Sam and me, Nick. Nothing. If it's any of your business,' Her eyes flashed. 'I'm not so sure this boat thing is such a good idea after all!' 'We're going, Jo.' Hick picked up her hag. 'Forget Sam for now. We'll talk about him later. Get a jacket. It might be cold on the water.' She hesitated. 'Nick, this is stupid. We can't do it. To go away together would be crazy.' 'Then it's a kind of craziness we both need.' His tone was becoming threatening. 'I'm prepared to carry you to that car, She was too tired to argue any more. She swallowed the automatic flareup of rebellion and followed him downstairs, tb-nkful only when the front door was closed without her hearing again the echoing wait of baby illiam's hungry Two and a half hours later, Jo clutched Nick's arm. 'Nick stop! Go back!' The Porsche screamed to a standstill on the dusty road. 'For God's sake, what's wrong?' 'That signpost! Did you see it?' 'Jo, you could have caused an accident. Christ! What is wrong with you? What signpost?' Turning in his seat he reversed up the empty road past the narrow turning to which Jo had pointed. 'There.' She was pale and excited. 'Look. It points to Bramber!' ii!'So?' Nick glanced in the rear-view mirror and waved a past, then he pulled the car into the grass verge. 'What's tbout Bramber, suddenly?' was William's home. It was where I went after I was Nick's hand tightened on the wheel. 'After Matilda was married, I suppose you mean?' 'That's what I said. Oh Nick, can we go there? Please?' A car slowed behind them, hooted and overtook, the driver gesturing rudely as he disappeared around the curve of the road. 'Jo, we've come to forget all that.' 'Oh please, Nick. I'll never rest until I've been there now. Just for a few minutes. It's research for the article amongst other hlngs. I can see how much it's changed. Nick, don't you see? I'll be able to compare. It might prove that everything has been in my imagination -' Sadness showed in her eyes suddenly. 'iF i recognise nothing at all, at least we'll know then. The Downs or the river. Please, Nick?' With a sigh Nick engaged gear. He turned up the narrow road, glancing at the countryside round them. 'We've been round here half a hundred times before, Jo. Every time we've left the boat at Shoreham we've explored the Downs to fred pubs and restaurants -' 'But we've never turned offhere.' She was peering through the wind-screen, her hand on the dash. 'I don't recoguise anything, Nick. Not the countryside, the Downs are so naked - so small.' He could hear the disappointment in her voice. 'They are the same as they were the last time you.and I came down to the boat,' he said gently. 'Look -' He slowed the car. 'It says "To the Castle". Shall I turn up there?' She nodded. Her mouth had gone dry. Nick swung the car up the steep lane between two small modern flint turrets and into a muddy car park. Above them rose a wooded hill with a squat little church nestling into its side. Jo pushed the car door open and stood up, her eyes fixed on the church. Nick hadn't moved. He was leaning across, watching her. She looked down at him unhappily. 'Nick, I have to do this alone. Do you mind?' 'Are you sure?' She nodded. 'And you'll be all right?' 265 She looked round. 'I'll be all fight. Go and fred one of those pubs you were talking about. Come back in an hour.' She pushed the door shut. Nick watched her walk towards the church. Only when she had disappeared inside didhe turn the car and drive back down the lane. Jo opened the door into the nave and stared round. The church was completely empty. She stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind her, her eyes on the huge arch of pale stone which spanned the roof before the altar. In her hand was a copy of the little tenpenny guide. This was Willlam's chapel - and before him the chapel of his father, and his grandfather. It had been dedicated, the guide book said, in the year 1073. Slowly she walked towards the altar.. If it were anywhere, his ghost would be here, in the very walls where he had knelt and prayed. She felt the skin on the back ofber neck prickle as she stood staring up at the simple wooden cross with the pale ochre curtain behind it. No lighted candles, no incense. The bell was silent. But there was a sense of prayer. A prese;xee. 'I should be praying for their souls,' she thought. 'Their souls - our souls - which are not at-rest.' With a shiver of something like defiance she made the sign of the cross and knelt before the altr, but the prayers would not come. The faith and burning trust which Matilda had felt before the twelfth century statue of the Virgin were not for the twentieth-century Jo Clifford, kneeling in her shirt and ieans on the cold soap scented flagstones. She felt nothing. She was suddenly conscious of how quiet the church was, and how empty. Raising her eyes to the three small, arched windows above the altar she felt very cold. The air around her had become oppressive; the silence so intense she could hear it beating inside her head. Overwhelmed with panic she scrambled to her feet and fled down the aisle, letting herself out of the door to stand in the vestibule, breathing deeply. Two women walked in past her and she felt them staring at her. They too bought a copy of the little guide, then they disappeared inside the church. 266 She stood in the graveyard shivering, feeling the warmth of the evening sun sinking through her shirt and into her bones. air was glorious. It smelled of honeysuckle and wood smoke from a bonfire below the churchyard, and of wild thyme from the Downs which ringed Bramber, bare and dusty the hot evening sky. Immediately below her around the foot. of the hill clustered the uneven, ancient roofs of the village of Bramber. Above, like a reproving finger, stood a huge pillar of masonry - part of the now ruined castle. Taking a deep breath, Jo leit the churchyard and.began to walk up the shallow steps cut in the side of the castle hill, across the overgrown depths of the defensive ditch and on towards the ruins. The top of the hill wa a broad flat area of mown grass in the centre of which rose another steep-sided hillock, the motte on which the first William de Braose's wooden keep had been raised in the days of the Conqueror. It was shrouded now by guarded by ancient yews. Very little of the castle remained. A few areas of crumbling wall around the perimeter of the hill where the only. invaders were ash and hung with the greenish, scented flowers of wild Only the one tall finger of wail remained rearing , to remind the visitor of the castle's former glory. Jo stood staring round her, lost. She could recognise noth Slowly she began to walk, seeing her shadow running her acrossthe grass, looking south towards the sea. the forest she had gone hawking with fallen at his feet to lie with her head on his lap. had gone. Trees climbed the castle hill now, which had been bare. Only the gap in the Downs was the same. river was quite different too. So small. Surely then it wider and there had been a jetty right here the hill with ships and bustle and noise. The only was the roar of traffic from the broad sweep of the road south, carried on the still evening air. 'Are you all right, Jo?' Nick had been following her She smiled at him. 'The only fixing I can recognise is the gap where the Downs aren't-.' She laughed wryly. 'And the church. I think the tower was the same, though there used to be mmething on top, then. And there was water all round here.' She waved her arm. 'I thought I said an hour?' She looked at -him closely. 'I didn't like to leave you, so I parked in the lane at the bottom of the hift. I was afraid...' He hesitated. 'Well, that something might happen.' 'So was I.' She put her hands on a fragment of wall, lightly touching the flints and mortar. 'I should be able to feel something. I know I've been here before- how often have you heard people say that, ioking? I do know it, yet I feel nothing. Why?' 'Perhaps you don't need to.' He touched the waft himself. 'Besides, it's quite possible that you had no particular affinity with Bramber. You probably have no reason to remember it. Matilda spent most of her time in Wales, didn't she?' Jo nodded. 'You're right; I expect all her memories are there.' She sighed. 'There was something, though - just for a minute, in the church.' She shivered again. 'William was so obsessive about religious observance. Do you know, his clerks had to be paid extra because of all the flowery bits of religious pomposity he insisted on adding to all his correspondence ' She stopped abruptly. 'I must have r.i that somewhere -' lqick took her arm. 'Come on, ,Jo. Let's get on to Shoreham.' She shook offhis hand. 'You were right. I took my clothfs off for Sam.' She was staring into the distane. 'I thought he was William. He ordered me to do.it, lqick.' 'Are you sure?' Nick stared at her grimly. 'I wasin the solar ,of the castle at Brecknock and he stood in front of me and ordered me to undress whilst the blind man played the flute.' 'William may have ordered you in your dream, J6. Hot Sam, surely. Sam wouldn't do such a thing.' lqick swallowed uncomfortably. 'Why did I take my clothes off, then?' she cried. 'Why? If it was just for William I would have described it, not actually it:' He frowned. 'You're making a terrible accusation, Jo.' 'There was no tape of what happened,' she whispered. 'No else there. Just Sam and me. And a pile of crumpled clothes.' She shivered again, looking down at the shadow of the castle wall on the grass. 'People can't be forced to do m-hing against their will whilst under hypnosis, I know and I thought he was my husband -' that's crap! You're talking complete, unmitigated .' Hick turned away sharply. 'I can quite believe that you I've seen you, remember? But Sam? He'd crazy to try something like that. Besides, nothing hap did it? Your husband didn't rape you?' His voice was coloured. 'No, he didn't rope me, because someone you- came. But not before he had humiliated ." and mocked me and set out to browbeat me like the sexist he was. He threatened to whip me, naked, before everyone t the castle and no doubt if there had been time he would on my knees before he put me on my back.' She began to walk swiftly down the way they had come. Hick followed her. 'Well, that proves it wasn't Sam at any said grimly. 'I don't see him as kinky.' 'Don't you?' Jo flashed back. 'You surprise me.' glanced at Jo from the phone. She was sitting in the of the pub nursing a Scotch and ginger. The noise the bar was. fairly high. Taking out his diary, he found was looking for and dialled it, leaning against wall so that he could watch her while he waited, change -hAnd, for the call to connect. He was thinking about Carl Bennet had only come in from Gatwick airport three cursed quietly as his wife came. get him out of the hath. 'Hick Franklyn? What the hell does Hick Franklyn want?' he muttered, wrapping a towel round his middle. 'I don't know, dear, but he's in a phone box.' Melissa Bennet smiled fondly at her husband as he tried to clean the steam off his spectacles. 'Get rid of him, darlhlg, then come down and eat.' 'Eat, she says,' Bennet snorted as his wife ran down the stairs. 'What the hell else does she think I did on-that plane?' He picked up the receiver. 'Yes?' he barked. His glasses had seamed over again. Within seconds he was reaching for his notepad. 'You are right. I should see her as soon as possible. I could fit her in tomorrow here.' He listened again for a few minutes, frowning with irritation as Hick paused to slot more money into the phone. 'Very well, Mr Franklyn. Monday at ten. I agree a break would do her good. But should this happen again - anything which worries you, I want you to promise to ring me, here, at once.' He hung up at last and sat still, chewing the inside of his cheek. He sighed. Post-hypnotic suggestion was always a dangerous field. To do as Nick Franklyn asked and wipe out the girl's memory of Matilda forever- that was a sad request. But the man was right. The past had to be controlled. It had to be relegated to where it belonged, otherwise it threatened to take Jo Clifford over, and in so doing, destroy her. 18 Sam opened the front door of the fiat to Judy that evening with a scowl. 'I'm packing to go to Edinburgh,' he said curtly. 'I'm afraid I can't spare you much time.' 'You can't?' Judy threw herself down on a chair. 'That's good, because I don't require much time. You know of course that by now Hick and Jo are back together.' 'I know they've gone down to the boat' He was watching her closely as he sat down opposite her. 'She doesn't want him. She is using him. You know that as well as I do, I expect.' Judy was wearing a pink flying suit which clashed violently with the bitter orange of the upholstery in Hick's fiat. She threw herself back in the chair pushing her hands deep into her P0C kets. 'I want Nick back.' Sam raised an eyebrow. 'Lucky old Nick,' he said coldly. 'So?' She smiled. 'You want Jo.' She studied his face under her eyelashes, but his expression nothing away. 'I think we should pool our resources, she went on atier a moment. Sam got up and went to the drinks tray. 'Assuming you even remotely right,' he said slowly, 'exactly what resources, as you call them, do you have?' He poured out stiff gin for each of them and began carefully to slice up a lemon. Judy smiled. 'Information. And advice. I think-that London is getting too hot for Jo. I thihk she would be better i a colder climate. Like Edinburgh for example. Don't you have a clinic or something in Edinburgh?' Sam handed her a glass. 'You mean I should whisk Jo off hospitalise her somewhere, preferably behind locked no doubt, thus leaving the field free for you?' 'Something like that, yes.' 'I'm afraid I don't have a clinic, Judy. Nor am I attached to He took a sip from his glass reflectively and went to stand in his favourhe position by the window. 'Besides, Jo doesn't need hospitLtL 'Yet.' He turned. 'What does that mean exactly?' 'She's going crazy.' Laughing, he turned away astin. 'Iqo, not crazy. A little confused, perhaps. A little frightened. But that is alL' He picked the lemon out of his glass and sucked it. 'There is no need for Jo to leave London to aid your plans.' He paused. 'I can drive a wedge between her and Nick which will put them further than four hundred miles aparh I can assure you. I can make Jo hate him" I can makeher afraid of him, I can make her revile andscrnhim" He hadn, t raised his voice, bm Judy sxJu at him" His tone, had been full of venom. ,you don't like your brother very much, do you,' she said cautiously. 'What makes you think that? I would He grinned suddenly. be doingit for youl' There was along pause as they looked warilyat one another. 'I don't think so,' Judy tid at last. 'I don't think you're even doing it becauseyou E-ke Jo. i think you're d0ing it to hm $qick.' Sam laughed out loud. 'Maybe. Maybe not. But you'll be there to pick up the pieces and kiss him better, won't you[' $qick was sitxing in the cockpit of the Moon Dancer, the tiller rocked beneath his arm, the sun full onhis face as he squintedup at the spread of cream canvas. 'I-Iappy?' I-Ie glanced at Jo who was lying on the cabin roof. She was wearing white jeans rolled up above the knees and a striped bikini top. She rested her chin on her hands and grinned at him, her hair blowing across her face. 'Happy. Better;Sane. She nodde& ,Are we going m stop at Bosham?' 'I don't see why not. Lunch at the Anchor Blen and back out ou the tide. Or we can spend the rest of the day there. Leave tomorrow. Whichever .' 272 He adjusted the sheet a little, watching the mainsail wing out before the wind as the huge orange spinnaker flapped for a moment, then ballooned full once more. Jo licked her lips, tasting the salt from the spray. 'Let's wait and see.' Already she could see the little pointed roof on the tower of Bosham church at the head of the creek. The tide was nearly high, brimming to the edge of the saltings where a cloud of terns danced over the sparkling ripples. She turned to watch a huge ocean racer draw smoothly past them under power. 'I haven't thanked you for last night,' she said suddenly. 'For what? As I remember, nothing happened.' 'Exactly.' She pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. 'You gave me space, Hick. It was what I needed. A super meal, enough Scotch to float the Titanic and oblivion.' He laughed. 'You certainiy look a little less tense.' 'I am. Once out of that flat I seem to be able to think straight. I've behaved like an emotional idiot, allowing myself to be influenced by all this business. Can you imagine? Jo Clifford, cool, businesslike, imperturbable Jo Clifford, herself to be so affected that my body reacted psy I shall write the story next week, and get it r system completely, then I intend to forget all about at her. 'I'm glad m hear it,' he said quietly. Jo Clifford.' They anchored in Bosham creek and paddled ashore in the dinghy. Walking across the long lush grass of the meadow they strolled past the church, breathing in the heady with honeysuckle and roses, intoxicatingly sweet the sharp salt of the sea wind,, laughing as they dusted drifla of white petals from the hedge. They ate a lunch sitting outside the pub in the sun, then slowly through the village hand in hand, watching lap up over the road, and slowly draw back leaving a trail of mud and weed. They hardly spoke at all as , walked along the point, then back across the causeway m lie for a while side by side on the grass, dozing in the sun. It was dark before they once more found their dinghy and paddled out beneath the stars to iVmd Moon Dancer swinging at her buoy. Jo lay back against the rounded rubber sides of the little boat and stared up at the ,sky. 'Do you know the names of all the constellations?' she asked lazily in the silence. Nick looked up. 'I used to. I'm always meaning to brush up on my astral navigation in case Dancer and I decide to head for deep water.' 'Seriously?' She raised her head and lOoked at him. 'Why not? I can think of worse things to do for a year. Let Jim take over the business.' She bit her lip silently, watching as he came alongside the boat and reached up to knot the painter to a stanchion. They climbed on board and Nick opened the hatchway to the cabin. Jo did not follow him below. She stood for a moment quite still in the cockpit staring across the darkly gleaming water. Then she shivered. Nick had turned on the lights. 'A nightcap before bed?' he She did not answer. She was watching the line of orange lights strung like beads along the in A27 at the end of the creek in the distance. With the wind off the sea she couldn't hear the traffic. All she could hear was the occasional dull slap of water against the planking and a splash as a fish jumped in the darkness. Once more she looked up at the glitter of stars above them, with the broad swathe of the Milky Way like an untidy scarf of samite dragged across the midnight velvet of the sky. A cold breath of air touched her cheek and she heard the immediate chatter of the halyards against the mast and the chuckle of rippling water beneath the bow. As the wind came round Moon Dancer turned a little across the tide. Somewhere in the dark a nighibird screamed. Jo climbed down into the cabin. Nick had put the kettle onto the little stove and was sitting on the bunk in the cramped cabin studying a chart of the Solent. 'Wouldyou like to dig out a couple of mugs?' He didn't lookup. She didn't move for a moment then slowly she began to unbutton her shin. She reached for the light switch and fliPll it off. Nick looked up, stm'fled. 'Hey! -' He stopped. She took off her shin and then her bra. He could see her breasts by the tiny light from the gas flame beneath the kettle. Holdin his breath, he watched as she slipped off her jeans. Then she came and knelt in front of him. 'I'm frightened, Nick,' she whispered. ,It's not all over. It all happened, all throe years ago and the echo of it is still out there.' She nodded towards the y beyond the open hatch. 'My destiny is somehow linked with a woman who lived and died eight hundred years before I was born. I can't turn my back on her.' Nick was slowly unbuttoning his own shirt. Gently he reached out and touched her breast. 'I think you must, Jo. And I think you can? He drew her between his knees, the agles ofhis face harsh in the blue light of the gas. 'I'll make you forget. Wit's the last thing I do, I shall make you forget.' 'Are you sure you don't mind being hypnotised with Mr Franklyn prent?' Carl Bennet looked at Jo closely. Outwardly she was more relaxed than he had seen her yet. She was tanned and smiling, and yet he could sense.a tension deep ' She nodded as she sat down. 'I want Nick here, and you do understand I don't want to be regressed any more, Dr Bennet. | want you to blot the whole thing out. Make me forget.' He nodded slowly. 'It .is the best thing I think, my dear, admit I am sorry in many ways. I had wanted colleague of mine to see you. I was talking to him il the States and he was hoping to fly over and ee you "Not' Jo clenched her fists. 'I'm sorry too, in a lot of ways. I 275 wanted to know what happened, but I can't take any more. I really can't.' She looked at him earnestly. 'It's affecting my health and my work, and for all I know my sanity as well, so please, put a stop to it now.' Bennet nodded. 'Very well. I agree. So, let us begin. I should like you to close your eyes Joanna and relax.' He was watching her hands, fisted in her lap. 'Completely relax, benning with your toes...' 'It takes longer each time,' Sarah commented when Jo was at last in a deep trance. Carl nodded. 'She is becoming more and more afraid of what might happen and fighting it. I doubt if we could have pro greased much further with her in this state ofmlnd anyway.' Jo was lying back in her chair passively, her eyes dosed, her hands hanging loosely over the armrests. Nick had seated himself unobtrusively in a corner of the room, his eyes fLxed on Jo's face. . 'Do youthink this will work?' he asked softly. Bennet shrugged. 'It will flit is what she reaJly wants.' He pulled up a chair next to Jo's and took her hand gently. 'Joanna, can you hear me?' |o moved her head slightly. It might have been a nod. 'And you are relaxed and comfortable, still thinking about your weekend at sea?' She smiled. This time the nod was more defmite. 'Good. How I want you to listen to me, Jo. It is twenty-five days since I first saw you here and you were first regressed. Since then the regressions have caused you much unhappiness and pain. I want you to forget them now, because you yourself want to forget them. When you wake up you will remember only that you had a few strange unimportant dreams and in time even that memory will fade. Do you understand me, He paused, watching her closely. Jo was motionless but he could see the tension had returned to her hands. Abruptly she opened her eyes and looked at him. 'I can't forget them,' she said softly but distinctly. Bennet swallowed. 'You must forget, Joanna. Matilda is dead. Let her rest.' Jo smiled sadly. 'She cannot rest. I cannot rest .. The story has to be told...' Her gaze slipped past him. 'Don't you see, I have to go back, to find out why it all happened. I have toremember. I have to live again that first meeting with John...' 'Stop her!' lick had jumped to his feet. 'Stop her, nmn! She's regressing on her own. Can't you see?' He grabbed Jo by the shoulders. 'Jo! Wake up! For God's sake wake up. Don't do itS' 'Leave her alone!' Bennet's peremptory order cut through his shout. Jo had gone rigid in her chair, looking straight through him. 'Jo.' It was Bennet who took hold of her now, forcing her to turn her head towards him. 'Jo, I want you to listen to me...' 'Listen to me! Listen!' William de Braose was standing furi -in front of.her. 'You will say nothing to the King of what happened on your journey, nothing, do you understand me?' For a moment Matilda felt the familiar surge of defiance. She met his gaze squarely, mocking his fear, then she looked away. If she fought with him now he would to take her to the King's presence, and that, above all, she wanted. Meekly she lowered her eyes. 'I shall say nothing, my lord,' Gloucester was crowded. The encampment of the King's s laid out between the royal castle and the King's . palace north of the city where King Henry habitually held his a colourful array of tents with the leopards King's standard rippling from the flagstaff on the great As they had arrived they had glimpsed the gleaming Severn with the fleet of royal galleys moored in lines to the but it was evening before they reached it and the castle the de Braose tents were raised next to those of their 276 277 Marcher neighbours who had come to attend the betrothal of the King's youngest son, John, to the Earl of Glbucester's daughter, Isabella, and even later before William, arrayed in his freest clothes, took Matilda at last to wait upon the King. They found him in one of the upper rooms of the palace, seated at a large table on which were unrolled several maps. Beside him stood William Fitzherbert, Earl of Gloucester, who had arrived from his castle at Cardiff only two days previously, escorting his wife and small daughter, and several other nobles. Wine goblets had been used to hold maps flat as together they pored over the rough drawn lines in the light of a cluster of great wax candies. There was no sign of Richard de Clare, she saw at a glance, as she curtseyed low before the King, her heart thumping nervously. She had so desperately hoped he would be there. 'Glad to see you made it, Sir William.' Henry acknowledged his bow. 'My son is to be your neighbour in the Marches ff our plans work out.and we get a dispensation for this marriage.' He peered at Matilda, half hidden behind her husband. 'Your wife, Sir Wil!i-? She can wait on young Isabella tomorrow. See ffshe can stop the wench blubbering.' He snorted, holding his hand out to Matilda who came forward eagerly. 'Your Grace,' she murmured, bowing low. She glanced up at the heavy lined face and wiry red hair dusted with white, and found the King surveying her closely with brilliant blue eyes. She sensed at once the appreciation in his gaze and uncertainly drew closer to her husband. 'Your father Sir Reginald was a good man, my dear.' The King held on to her hand. 'The best dapffer I've had to attend me. And you've the look of him about you.' He grinned at William. 'Lucky man. She's a lovely girl.' Matilda blushed and stepped hack as the King released his grasp, glancing nervously up at him from lowered eyes, but already his attention was on the maps before him once more. WilliCm was drawn immediately into the discussion around the table, so she moved quietly to the hearth where the King's in the heat, and she stood gazing lames, wondering whether she should withdraw. a door near her was flung open and a boy came into the room. He stopped short and looked her up and I saw you this afternoon with Sir William's party,' he coming to stand near her. His sandy hair was damp from riding in the rain. 'Your mare was You should have dismounted and led her.' beg your pardon.' Matilda blushed hotly. 'She was not : 'She was.' He made a face at her. 'I saw her. She was stumbling .'She was tired.' Matilda was furiously indignant. 'There was whatsoever wrong with her. I should never have ridden vas.' She looked at the boy with dislike, noting his scuffed shoes. 'Anyway it' s got nothing to d6 e no business to tell me what I should or should voice had risen slightly and she was conscious sud of a silence at the table behind her. She turned, embarrassed, and met the King,s cool gaze as he , over the maps. 'I hope my son is not being a nuisance,.Lady de Braose,' he uietly. And then, louder, 'Come here, John.' Matilda gasped and, blushing, looked back at the Prince, but r he had turned his back on her and gone to stand beside the safety of his position at the King's side he His father may not have seen, but one or two of the others at had, including William. She saw him glare his hand as ifhe wanted to clout him, r remembering where he was, he too bent once ) be{ore him. The King, suppressing with diffi the amusement in his face, " bowed sligl..fly towards and once more lowered his own eyes. Her cheeks i she turned back to the fn'e, wishing she could run from 279 'He's an odious, precocious little prig,' she burst out.later to Elen when she was at last back in her tent. She turned so that the woman could begin to unlace her gown. 'Heaven help that poor child Isabella if they are to be wed. The boy needs a thrashing.' 'Hush!' Elen, frightened, glanced round. 'You can't tell who might be listening out there, my lady. It would do no good to speak ill of the Prince. No good at all.' 'Prince!' Matilda snorted, begi-nnlng to tug at the braid in her hair. 'He behaves more like a stable-boy, except that he knows nothing about horses, lqothing!' 'He rides very weal though, so I've heard.' Elen gathered up the rich folds of material as her mistress stepped out of the dress. 'He's as daring as any of his brothers, although they're so much older.' 'Daring maybe.' Matilda was not to be placated. The hidden smiles of the men at the table still rankled, as did the look of amusement in the cold eyes of Henry himself. 'He has no business to accuse me of riding a lame horse and making me look a fool in front of William and the King.' There was a suspicious prickling behind her eyes, and she rubbed them fretfully with the back oher hand. 'It's humiliating.' 'Hush, my lady, he's only a boy.' Elen opened a coffer and rummaged through the contents looking for a comb. 'Forget it. Think about tomorrow instead, and the lovely ceremonies and the banquet after. It'll all be so beautiful, indeed it will. I've never seen so many people and so much grandeur in all my life.' Matilda threw her a fond smile in spite of bet vexation and eat down abruptly on one of the folding chairs so that Elen could reach to comb her hair. The pink cheeks of the Welsh girl glowed with excitement in the cold air of the dimly lit teat, and she remembered suddenly that for her too tomorrow wa to be a great day. It was the first time she had attended court.and it was f6olish to let the boy's defiberate taunts spoil what was to be such an exciting day; even if that boy was also the King's youngest son, the aiterthought child of Henry and formidable Queen, Eleanor. And if the boy was to be the of that day, well, as William pointed out, it was probably he would ever have, except for the wed itself, as the cfnUe of attention. What chance had he of . in his own right with three splendid and magnificent so much older than him,telf Elen at last she stepped wearily out of her shift, at the cold, and, leaving it lying where it fell, she naked into the low bed, and curled up beneath the of furs listening to the shouts and noise of the vast It was nearly the hour of curfew when the fires damped, and it would grow colder still. She longed call Elen into her bed for warmth, but she did not dare. Her lust had been mused by the King's obvious admir for her and his crude finnblings and explicit leers at the board had made it clear that she was to expect him ther bed again that night. enough, the fires were barely doused when William stamping into the tent, already beginning to unfasten riding in a ring tonight,' he exclaimed loudly, his cloak. 'It'll blow before morning.' He waved esquire away and sat down to pull off his boots himself. r lady, you certainly impressed His Grace the King.' 'lot many stand up to that spoiled brat of his, and come away to tell the tale without having their pulled.' his wife's eyes flash angrily in the light of the dim and stopped hastily. 'I'm glad you're to attend my dear.' He tried to appease her gruffly. a great houour. You'll be right in the forefront of , other boot with a grunt and threw it to the 'By Christ, Matilda, the King was in a fine mood today. a great hunt the day after tomorrow and I for one there with him. There's good sport to be had in the at the moment. We shall have a fine day.' 281 He threw off the rest of his clothes and, blowing out the rushlight, turned towards the bed. She gritted her teeth as he fell on her, and she felt his hands closing on her breasts, his knee forcing her thighs apart in the dark. 'The King liked you, Matilda,' he murmured, Iris face nuzzling into her neck. 'He said I was a lucky man and he knows a thing or two about women, does King Hemy. I'll have to watch you, won't I?' and he laughed exultantly as he thrust his way inside her. The moing dawned frosty and bright, and the wisps of mist which had drifred up river from the estuary were soon spirited away by the sun. Matilda stood in the chilly tent and allowed Elen and Nell to dress her. First the pleated shift, then "the undemmic of watcher green and lastly, over it, her gown of scarlet cloth, embroidered at the hem with gold stitching and crystals. Around her slim hips the girls placed the beautifully worked girdle which was saved for state occasions. She bade Elen pin up her long braids under her veil and tlen she surveyed herself critically in the polished metal hand mirror Hell held for her. She saw herself pale, her auburn hair neat beneath the snowy veil, the gilt fillet which held it in place sparkling from a ray of sun which escaped the tent flap and strayed through the shadows to where she stood. There was no hint on her face of the raw ache between her legs, nor the vicious marks on her breasts. She had been too proud to cry, but she had prayed for hours in the dark after William had at last fallen asleep that tonight he would be too drunk to leave the banqueting hall and that His Grace the King would never look in her direction again. The rooms occupied by the Countess of Gloucester were on the far side of the palace. Without WiLliam, who had left early to attend the King and the Earl of Gloucester for the signing of the formal betrothal documents, Matilda was lost. She stood in the centre of the courtyard around which lay a huddle ofbnildlngs, surrounded by noise and bustle, feeling bewildered. Behind her, Elen stood wide-eyed, barely able in her excitement and nervousness m refrain from stretching OUt to catch her mistress's sleeve. Eventually they had to find a boy to guide them to the C, ountess's rooms. They followed him through a cluster of toue and wooden buildings, some new built, some already :derelict, into the palace itself, and through dark passages and stairs until at last they came to a heavy door hung with 'She be in there, my lady.' The boy ierked his thumb at the He sidled up to Elen and held out his hand. 'I've 'e like 'e asked, mistress.' Elen looked at him puzzled. He wants you to give him a coin, Elen,' Matilda corn abruptly, scarcely noticing as Elen, blushing, groped at her girdle for a quarter penny. She took a deep , holding aside the hangings, opened the door. The large solar behind it was full of women. Hawise Fkz Countess of Gloucester, large and florid, was ur by her firing womem, her voice, shrill with-ira and ill-humour, clearly floating above the ubdued She turned as Matilda came in and, catch sight of her, raised her narrowly plucked eyebrows till almost vanished into her hairline. 'Not another one. Has every woman in the country been puru her mouth sourly. 'The King, Lady Gloucester, asked me to attend your Matilda, her cheeh burning, bobbed a conscious of the eye which were all focused on her. The woman snorted. 'You and who else. Well, madam, and 'Matilda de Brae, Countess.' Matilda took a deep breath, put out. you.' The woman seemed determined to be She ruined to take a brooch from an attendant and 'Lady de Brame is the wife of Sir William, Counte, Lord 282 283 of Brecknock in the middle March. It is a great honour that she should wait upon the little lady during her betrothal to Prince John.' She spoke in a stage whisper, designed to be heard by everyone in the room, and Matilda saw the Countess pause and. frown, looking at her again, and she blessed her unknown ch,mpion. She drew henelf up. 'Where is the Lady Isabella? May I offer her my greetinl?' The Countess held herself upright, holding in her stomach as her gown was laced up, and then held out her arms for her girdle. 'You can try,' she said grudgingly. 'She's snivelling in the garderobe.' With a swift glance at Elen, Matilda strode across the room. The women tepped back to let her pass and she could feel their eyes uncomfortably on her back, but her attention was fixed on the little side room from where she could hear the sound of heartbroken sobs. In the comer, huddling on the floor beneath a rail of hanging clothes, a little girl was weepingm though her heart would break, clutching a rag doff. A large plumlfaced nurse bent over her, coaxing, and behind, two maids hovered, clutching a selection of gowns and tittle mantles with which they were obviously hoping to dress her. 'What's the matter?' Matilda demanded, looking down at the child. She was horrified to see the little girl dirty and unkempt. Her hair was tangled with grass and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes. 'She tried to run away, madam, that's what's the matter.' The nurse gave up coaxing and stood, her hands on her hips, looking down at the child in exasperation. 'Here we are, with everyone nearly ready to go to the abbey and the child refuses to dress. She says she wants none of the King's son. Imagine! How dare she, the little minx. You wait till her father gets wind of this. He'll take the strap to her buttocks until they're raW. The little girl gave another sob and clutched her doll more 'Well he won't get m hear of it,' said Matilda quietly, trying to keep her temper with the insensitive woman. heart went out to the little girl. She had a sudden vivid William. She too had been a not much older than this one. She who had dreamed of tall, radiant, chivalrous knight had been informed by her great honour that had been done family, that she had been chosen by the stocky, ill whose reputation even then was marred by and viciousness. Her first reaction too had been to away. But then she sat down on her favourite spot on the and thought about her duty and, at hear a realist about : chance she had of ever having a better offer of marriage, had come home, apologised to her frightened mother, mgry father and resigned herself to making the of it, comforting herlf with the thought that she was be a great lady. But could she persuade this little girl see the sense in that? A little girl whose real world still peopled by doffs and puppies and her snow-white 'Please, nurse, will you leave us for a while?' She turned forced herself to give the agitated woman her most bril a little talk with Isabella.' The woman drew herself up to argue, but already Elen, had followed close at her mistress's heels, was pushing out, and the two protesting-maids with her. Then she her back to the doorway, panting. women,' she muttered. 'Clucking like so many are indeed. Poor carku/bach.' Matilda knelt down in the rushes and held out her arms to little girl. 'Come here, Isabella my love. Tell me what's Why are you so unhappy?' Whether it was the sympathy in her voice, or the sight of a she couldn't tell, but Isabella, with another scrambled to her feet and rushed to her, throw herself into Matilda's outstretched arms. gently for a while, touched by the feel of the tiny, frail body, so thin beneath the skimpy clothes. Then as the child's sobbing grew less, she pushed back the fair hair from her hot face and smiled gently at her. 'Come on, sweeting, tell me what's wrong.' 'I don't want to be betrothed.' Isabella sniffed loudly. 'I hate John. He's a bad, wicked boy. I don't want to be married to him, ever.' 'Why Isabella? Why not? Why do you think he's wicked?' 'He pulls the wings off sparrows.' The ready tears spilled over again as the little girl buried her head in Matilda's shoulder. 'He likes hurting things. He told me. And when I belong to him he said he could hurt me. And he said he could make me cry.' 'Christ blast that boy!' Matilda swore under her breath. She exchanged glances with Elen over the child's head. 'Listen Isabella. John only said that to tease. He would never hurt you. He couldn't. After mass in the abbey there will be a lovely patty, and then you are to stay with your mother and father until you're grown up. John probably won't come near you again. And when you marry him years and years from now, you'll be a princess. You'll be the most beautiful princess there ever was.' She smiled down at the drawn, pale little face. 'Come on, remember you're a great lady. Ladies must never be afraid.' She dropped a kiss on the tangled hair. 'Now, will you let your nurse comb you and wash you and get you ready?' 'But I saw him.' The little gift was sking still. 'He pulled the wings till the bird screamed.' Matilda shivered. 'I'll ask my husband to tell the King. John should be whipped for such cruelty.' 'You promi?' Isabella rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. 'I promise.' Gently Matilda pushed her from her lap. 'How come on, there's not much time.' The nurse reappeared so swiftly it was obvious she had been !itening outside the doorway. Half resentful of Matilda, .half relieved that her charge had calmed down, she pushed way to the child's side. 'Would you credit that boy,' she muttered as she stripped .. little girl and began rubbing the frail body with a cloth in a jug where the water had long since grown cold. i'They sat there yesterday, side by side, when His Grace the them together, neat as two pins they were, both rubbed and combed, and we saw John whispering to her. Then he took her by the hand and led her away. Lady Glou was that pleased, she was. Then the child comes racing in, screaming the place down. The Earl was furious, and the Then young John came in all innocent. "I don't "I don't know what's making her cry." ' She pulled a clean shift over the little girl's head. Then the gown. Then she began to drag a brush through the delicate fair hair. Outside in the solar the other women had been too preoccuwith the Countess of Gloucester's grumblings to pay much attention to what was going on in the garderobe, so emerged, holding Isabella, now neat and clean the hand, there was a moment's astonished silence. 'Well,' her mother said at last. 'About time too.' Ignoring with calculated disdain she went to take her daugh. Isabella snatched it away, clinging to Matilda dodging behind her out of her mother's reach. Exasthe Countess gave up without any further effort. 'Oh for pity's sake, you go with the child ifshe cares for you snapped. 'Stay with her and see she behaves. I no more trouble.' Her hear, beating with excitement, Matilda took .Isabella's again and led the way out of the" room. Outside she could calls as the procession lined up to await the St Peter's Abbey was packed. They walked slowly up the between the loRy columns which vanished into smoky high overhead, where the painted colours were still 287 lackened and tarnished by the disastrous fire which hd swept the church fdty years earlier. Matilda caught her breath with excitement nd uncomcinnsly clutched lsbelh's hand even tighter. The abbey blazed with candies, and every light was reflected a dozen times in the t'mery of those who had crowded in to hear high mass. The air was giddy with incense. The King was waiting for them in the choir with Prince John, splendidly dressed, beside him+ With them was the tall figure of the King's justiciar, Ranuif Glanville, who supervised John's education, and the Earl of Gloucester, Isabella's father, with the bishops and clergy ranked on either side. The boy John stood quietly, his eyes resting on the tomb of Robert, Duke of Hormandy. He looked as if butter wouldn't meh in his mouth. Never once did he raise his eyes to look at the trembling little girl who stood at his side as the blessing was pronounced. Nor did he look up as the choir burst into a joyful hymn of praise. Once, .though, he looked at Matilda. And she was surprised to see a direct challenge in his blue eyes. ma,ed, she stared at him for a moment, not believing she-had seen aright. The look had been so quickly veiled. I imagined it, she thought, bringing her attention sternly back to her charge, and to the sacred ma.., but somewhere a shadow had moved in the back of her mind, and she felt a flicker of warning. The celebrations with endless hunting and feasting lasted several days, and then at last it was time once more to move on. Richard de Clare had not come after, all, to Matilda's intense disappointment. She had seen the King twice only since the banquet which succeeded the betrothal formal/ties and the mass in St Peter's. On each occasion he was setting out in the cold dawn on a day's hunting, surrounded by his barons and knights, William amongst them. Once Prince John was at his side and again she felt the boy's gaze on her. This time he was thoughtful, even calculing in his stare and with a shiver she pulled her cloak around her and turned away to her tent. But not before she had seen that strange challenge again flickering in the depths of those cold blue eyes. The next moruing she was standing watching a ship being unloaded at the wharf, clutching her squirrel fur mantle around her against the icy wind from the Welsh mountains, when she heard her time called. She spun round. 'Richard!' She let out a tittle cry ofpleasure, hastily cut offas she glanced round her to see if anyone had heard. A Few yards away Elen was bargaining with a packman in whose bundle she had spotted some bauble she wanted. 'I had g/ven up all hope of seeing you here!' Richard glanced down at her. 'How could I not come, knowing you would be here?' He was breathing deeply, trying to contain the emotions which threatened to overwhelm him as he stared at her, seeing her so much more beautifi, or so he thought, than when they had parted almost a year before. She bad matured- turned from a coltish child into a lovely her hair glossy beneath the fir hood, her cheeks whipped to colour by the icy wind. He clenched his fist on the ofh/s sword. 'I hear you were delivered of a fine son, my lady,' he said , at last. 'My congratulations.' She smiled at him. She could think of nothing to say. Her was beating too quickly. She couk hardly breathe. He not touched her- not even kissed her glove, but she feel his touch, feel the longing that stretched like a : between them. 'There, my lady!' Elen returned triumphant with her put 'Shall we go on to the King's hall?' She glared at the fair-haired knight with the chevrons on his surcoat who :with suchnaked longing at her mistress, and she e was danger in that look. lady.' She pulled at Matilda's sleeve: 'We should go see you again?' Mati/da could not take her eyes off face. nodded helplessly, half reaching out towards her with his hand. It fell back without touching her and with a curt bow, he turned away. All day Matilda waited to see him again, but he did not come. Nor was. he to be seen at the high table in the King's great hall. Disappointed and worn out with longing, she retired early, her head throbbing from the smoke and noise of the dinner which had gone on for hours. She had unstoppered a phial of poppy syrup and was mixing a little with some wine when she looked up and caught sight of a movement against the tent wall. Her heart leaped. 'Richard?' she breathed. But only silence answered her, and after a moment she turned away. It was her overwrought imagination. He would never dare come to her tent. Picking up the cup she sipped the tincture, feeling it run soothing through her veins, and as she sfipped quietly out of her gown she had already begun to feel drowsy. She was too tired to call Elen or one of the maids. All she wanted was to sink into the bed and sleep the pain in her head away. Then suddenly she saw a shadow, clearly, on the tent wall between the blowing hangings silhouetted against a camp fh'e outside. It paused, and then moved silently towards the entrance flap. She caught her breath. That was not Richard. The shadow was too squat. Something about the stealth of the movement frightened her and she sat up abruptly, pulling up the covers beneath her chin, holding her breath. There was a tiny click, like two stones being rubbed together, and then silence. The shadow moved quickly to the entrance and paused again, then it shrank strangely and thickened as the prowler, whoever it was, stopped momentarily as though dropping something. Then it vanished. Matilda sat for a moment, her heart in her mouth, wondering whether to call the guard. Then she slipped out of bed and, pulling the coverlet round her shoulders, tiptoed to the entrance of the tent and looked out. There was no one there. A f'me starlit sky lit the dark encampment where here and there a damped fire glowed red beneath its turves. She caught her breath in the cold air, looking lef and right and then glancing down at the ground which was already white with icy dew. A bundle lay at her feet. Puzzled she bent and picked it up, still thinking of Richard. It was heavy and already the frosty night had worked its way into the rough cloth leaving it stiff and frozen. She carried it into the tent and, fighting a candle from the rushlight which burned before the portable priedieu, examined it more closely. The material was tied with a leather thong. Curiously she pulled at the knot, working at the tight leather until it came free. Unwrapping the sacking she pulled out another bundle of cloth. It was parti-coloured, in the flickering light hIfgrey, half scarlet. She unwrapped it. Lying in the folds before her, heavy and stiff, were three severed hands. The scarlet of the cloth was the blood which had soaked through it, dying it into a gaudy, cheerful mockery of colour. She gazed at them in horror for fully a minute, her eyes unconsciously taking in the details of the grimy nails, the whitened fingers, the beaten copper ring on one fthe knuckles, unable to comprehend the full horror of what she saw, and then she turned, retching, and ran for the entrance to the tent. 'Someone come! Help me! Help me!' Her screams echoed in the frosty air and within seconds the camp watch was mustering and a knight had ducked into the tent beside her, his face white beneath his chain-mail hood as his heavy sword. Horrified he stared down at the tent floor, then helplessly he touched Matilda's arm. 'Hush, my lady, hush. There is no danger now. Look, my - your maids are here, and Sir William ha been called.' enbroidered length of tapestry from a table and it over the bloodstained bundle, hiding it from sight. she could not stop scremlng. It was as if something her head had snapped. She was outside herself, watch herselfatanding there, barefoot, wrapped in a fur cloak in streaming light of the torch which one of the watchmen she could not stop screarnln. 291 Hush, Jo. Hush, there is no danger. It's all over. You're quite safe.' Hands were shaking her and she could feel something cold on her face. Agitated voices urrounded her. 'Can't you do something, for God's sake -' 'Here, catch her hands. Hold her still.' She felt pcopIe clutching at her, struggling with her, hold ingher. There was a prick in her arm - then she knew no more. 19 The room was small, shaded by a white venetian blind against the ram. She blinked slowly, trying to clear away the fog in her mind. Her mouth tasted unpleasantly chemical. 'Jo?' A man was sitting by the bed. He stood up, bending over her. 'qick?' Her tongue was so dry the word would not come. 'You're all right, Jo. Look, I've got a cup of tea here for you. Would you like a sip?' His voice was more gentle than she had ever heard it. Jo rubbed her eyes. 'Where is this? What happened?' She managed to sit up, and drank a little from the cup Nick gave her. Her head was spinning. 'We are still at Dr Bennet's, Jo. Do you remember? This is a rest room. You've been asleep.' 'Asleep? I thought... I thought he was going to hypnotise me again.' She fell silent, leaning back against the pillows, g uddeuly that there was a sot blanket over her leg. 'He was going to ce if he could make me forget,' he repeated slowly. 'Has it worked?' Nick sat down on the chair beside the bed once more. 'I .. I don't know.' She pushed her hair offher face with hand. 'I feel so strange. I can't think straight ...' Through the blind she could e horizontal lines of brightness slightly, casting shadows on the cool olive of the around her. The room smelled of antiseptic. It was ' small. Behind Nick the door opened quietly and Sarah peered in. she saw Jo sitting up. 'How you feeling?' 'A bit l,eculiar.' Jo managed to grin. 'Carl is very sorry but he is involved with his alernoon He was wondering if you could both come on Wednesday morning. It would probably he better 292 293 ayway to leave things for a couple of days to see how you are ling.' Jo frowned. 'Aiiemoon appointment? I don't understand. t time is it?' 'It's teatime, Jo.' Nick stood up. 'You've been asleep for .,veral hours. She'll be here on Wednesday,' he said quietly, ','11 ee.to that.' 'What do you mean several hours?' Jo repeated in bewilder lent as he closed the door behind Sarah and turned back to er. 'What's happened? Did I faint again?' 'You got a bit upset and Dr Bennet had to give you ashot of lium to --lm you down, that's all.' 'Utnet?,Why was I upset?' Hick gave the ghost of a grin. 'I'm hardly going to tell you tat, Jo. The idea was that you forget everything that has been rrying you. If the suggestion has worked, then it would be tadness for me to telJ you what happened, wouldn't it?' 'ry Judy Curmn's fiat again,' May.' Jim Grerson ran his ngers through his thinning hair as he held down the interm switch. 'Just did, Jim. And Jo's. Shall I try Mrs Franklyn in emlhire?' 'Ho, don't bother.' Jim slumped back in his chair and spun to face the window. His broad, pleasant face was haggard as e lited the letter offthe desk next to him and read it for the xth time. 'Get here, Hick, old son,' he murmured out loud. 'If you ant a business m come back to, stop chasing women, my iend, and get here soon.' :was ten past five before Hick finally paid off the taxi and llowed Jo upstairs to her flat. The phone was ringing as she .ned the door. 'It's for you.' She bnnded him the receiver with a weary n. 'The office.' She walked as always first to the French doors and threw them open, smelling the rich scent from the flowers on her balcony. Looking leit and right up and down the terrace of buildings it was strange bow few of the balconies had flowers. In Germany or Switzerland they would all be a riot of turn bring colonr, but here in London hers stood out almost alone with its tubs and pots of pinks and geraniums, the honeyuckle, and the exotic passion flower which clambered around the stone balustrade. She smiled faintly. Hick had always teased her that she must he a country girl at heart because of her love of flowers. She leaned on the balustrade. Her mind felt drugged. She could not focus her thoughts. Carl Bennet's face, and Sarah's, floated in her head, but there were others there too she could not grasp. Someone had talked about a horse being lame.. she could remember being very angry about that ... and then, later, there had been a hand with a ring on the finger, a -ha-rid with filthy nails... 'That was Jim.' Hick came out onto the balcony behind her. 'It appears Desco have turned down our presentation out of hand and are threatening to go over to the opposition. Goddamn it to hell! That was going to be one of the best promotions we've planned. I've only been. away from the office ten days - lord knows how they've managed to get it wrong!' He made an effort at a grin. 'Will you be OK on your own for a bit, Jo? I hate to leave you, but I think I've got to get over there to stop Jim cutting his throat' She nodded. 'Hick, I'm sortV. It's my fault- you'd have week if it wasn't for me ' 'Jo- I should be able to leave them.' He took a deep v his anger. 'Look, I'll he back for a late Don't go out.Rest till I get back and make do with a tin of soup or something.' She followed him to the door and closed it behind him. She tired and hot and sticky and slightly sick, and she didn't him to go. She was lying on the sofa dressed only in her towelling her eyes clmed after a long cool bath when she .emembered what had happened. One minute she was gazing ragoely across the room, wondering whether she had the mer83, to fetch herself a cup of coffee, the next she sat bolt tprght. It was as if a curtain had lifted. As clearly as if he scfe speO-'ng in the room she heard Carl Bennet's voice, youwill remember that you had a few strange, but nimpor t dry-- m...' ,Gloucester . .' she murmured. 'But it wasn't a dream. It as at Gloucester that I met John...' It was nearly ten by the time Nick got back from Berkeley treet and he was in a foul temper. 'Jim has cocked the whole ng up,: he said, flinging bimlfdown in a cbir. He looked hausted. 'I doubt if I can sort t-hlngs out, iF i can't I'm going :o have to go to the States and stay there till I get another tccount as big as Desco, othexwise it's the end of Franklyn rson. Jim just doesn't have a clue when'it comes to fightg the big boys. He's completely naive!' He closed his eyes searily. 'But I thought Mike Desmond was a friend 9f yours.' Jo sat town beside him. / lqick shrugged. 'This is business, not friendship. But I'll ave a damn good go at getting it back before I give up mtirely, you can be sure of tha.' He held out his hand to Jo. Hell, I'm sorry, you don't want to hear about all this. How tre you feeling? Has the headache gone?' 'Your post-hypnotic suggestion didn't work,' she replied leakly. 'I've remembered everything. Going to Gloucester, meeting Prince John - seeg Richard again.' lqick swore softly. 'We'll have to try again, that's all.' He ,hook his head. 'I wonder if Sm is right and Bennet doesn't rove the experience to cope.' 'I don't think it's that. I thin it's probably that in my heart [ don't really want to give up. I want to know what happens. kuyway, come on,' .she released Hick's hand, 'you must be tm'ving and I've defrosted some lamb cutlets. Is that a bottle f wine you brought in with you? If not, there are several in e wine rack. I've been stocking up.' He drew the cork and poured two glasses for them while Jo put the cutlets on the grill pan and ground black pepper over them. She was beginning to feel hungry at last. Nick handed tier a glass. 'It's not getting any time to my need is too great at the moment!' He sighed. what do we do about you now?' 'Nothing. I'll handle it alone.' 'Handle it alone? You were screaming so loud that people running from all over the building. Bennet had to give a shot to calm you down, for God's sake How can you Jo frowned. 'It was only finding those hands like that, suddenly that the Welsh were there, even in the encampment.. I hadn't realised how afraid I'd been we were in Wales- always wondering when their : would start. I felt safe at last at Gloucester and I was in.that tent, dreaming about Richard when suddenly, . in the middle of the King of England's men, were there. They could have cut my throat!' She shud as she began slicing some tomatoes, sprinkling them a few dried basil leaves before setting them beside the cook. She stared down at the knife in her hand and it hastily into the sink. 'Whose hands were they?' Nick asked quietly. 'Do you She rinsed her fingers under the tap. 'Three of William's knights.' She took the glass he offered and sipped it thoughtfully. 'I remember it quite clearly. had been riding for some time, through mist, on the way we saw a small wayside chapel, a shrine to saint. It was only a .huddle of stones with a heather roof, but as usual William went to kneel before the felt a quick shiver of warning touch his skin as he her. Her eyes were staring into the distance as she to describe the scene and he found himlf wondering ' if she even knew he was there any more. 297 'Someone had lel a garland ofwild roses and honeysuckle on the stone slab and sweet herbs had been scattered around on the earth. I didn't dismount, but Will had begun to squeal and I turned in my saddle and watched as the nurse raised him to her breast, wishing I could hold him myself.' She paused, biting her lip. 'Her mule lowered its head looking for grass to nibble and the boy at its head let it wander to a patch at the side of the road and stood there with the leading rein loose in his hand. It was silent, save for the champ of bits and the stampofhorses' hooves. I used to join William, but lately I had taken to waiting in the road like the others - sometimes with a whispered prayer of my own - sometimes not.' She smiled at Hick, who was staring at her.'After a moment Willi--m rose and crossed himself. Then he stopped. He was listening. Then we all heard it inthe early morning silence, the sound of a woman singing somewhere on the hillside behind the shrine. Everyone's heads turned and two of his knights wheeled their horses, closing up near him> as he stood dusting offhis blue mantle at the knees. I remember they both had their hands on the hilts oftheir sword. 'The deep, melodious singing was in Welsh, but I could not pick out the wouis. I pulled my cloak more closely round me, patting the neck of my horse, which was beginning to fidget, impatient to be moving. Still no one spoke. I think we were all 'Suddenly William turned to one of his knights, "Take two men and find her. Be careful. It may be a trap." He swung himself hack up into his saddle. Although his face beneath its weatherbeaten ruddiness was pale, he sat erect, gazing after the threemen. 'After a few minutes the singing grew more distant, as though the singer were walking away from us, up the hillside. 'I saw William swallow nervously, his eyes fixed on the track where his men had vanished. His horse shok its bit impatiently and pawed the ground and he stilled it with an oath and a tug at re-i, -. lqot a breath of wind stirred the trees and the drilt of obscured the track completely and the air grew chill. i i:i He waited a few more minutes, as usual unable to conceal his irritation, then he barked a command and four more riders, !their swords drawn, cantered up the track into the mist. " 'The skin at the back of my neck began to prickle and I round uneasily while the armed escort fingered their nervously. Only the nurse with the placidly suckling at her breast seemed unconcerned. 'Suddenly the four knights reappeared, slithering down the They were alone. The rider of the leading horse drew mount to a rearing halt at William's side and saluted with sword. ' "No sign of them, Sir William. The track divides in sev laces, but the mist is thick in the trees and we could see hoof mrks. It's so quiet up there. We tried shouting, but ." Then his voice tailed away and he glanced over his companions for support. 'Willirn's face flushed. "They can't be lost," he shouted. again. Take more men - take twenty men - and scour hillside! I want those men found, and I want the woman i." He drew his sword and held it ready across saddle, then he gave me a grim smile. "This is some trick clm Welsh," he said. 'The hillside above us echoed to the shouts of the armed as they forced their horses through the thick under hacking with their swords. But they found no sign of missing men. Eventually William had to give orders to we had trekked over the pass at BWIch that feel that strange prickling sensation beneath my It was then that I realised what it was. We were no longer watched. The severed hands came from those three knights.' came to herself suddenly with the realisatiou that the was full of the smell of burning. She put down her grabbed the grill pan. was staring at her, a strange expression on his face. none of that under hypnosis,' he said quietly. I?' She glanced up as she turned the meat and 299 tomatoes and lowered the fl-ame. Putting them back she poured some more wine. 'No harm done, t--n.k goodness. It was just the fat catching. A good thing we were standing here;' Nick hadn't moved. 'How much else can you remember?' he asked after a moment. She reached into the cupboard for two plates. 'Ev-hing I suppose, until we left Gloucester. At last, it seems like everything. Come on, let's eat before this lot gets itself incinerated. I don't want to talk about Matilda any more. Tell me what you're going to do to sink the opposition.' It was nearly midnight when Jo had tidied away their plates and made some coffee. Nick was sitting on the floor of the living room l-ning ainst the sofa, his head resting on the seat cushions, his eyes closed, as he listened to the last tape of the 'St Matthew Passion'. As the last notes of the final chorus died away he raised his head and looked at her. 'What was that flute music you had on that day Sam came over?' 'Flute music?' She knelt beside him and xeached for the orange coffee pot. 'I haven't any recordings ofute music.' 'You must have.' He frowned. 'It was a strange, rather haunting, formless solo piece. I've never heard it before.' She shrugged. 'Perhaps it was on the radio.' She glanced at him uncon0rtably. Hick had drunk most of the bottle of wine himteif, quickly, without savouring it, which was unusual for hlm and she could see that he was still tense and angry, the lines of his jaw taut as he lay back against the sofa cushions. 'Tell me,' he went on after a moment, 'if you remember everything about your visit to Gloucester so clearly, did you meet Richard de Clare again?' qick. I don't want to talk about it.' She was |ling her cup and did not look at him. 'I want to know, Jo.' His voice was quietly insistent. She sighed. 'I did see him, yes He was a close adviser of the King's. Once he arrived at Gloucester he was constantly in attegtdance on hlm' 'But did yon see him alone?' Jo smiled reminiscently in spite of herself. 'Yes, I saw him the day after the awful business with the hands. He my tent. Willi had announced that we were going to Bramber before the weather closed in. He was the whole affair and he had given orders that we set out the following day.' 'And Richard came to your tent?' Jo glanced up, hearing the undercurrent of anger in his 'We said goodbye, yes,' she said cautiously. 'Did he kiss you?' She saw his blue eyes narrow. 'Nick. For goodness' sake -' ...'Did he?' He sat up watching her intently. 'Yes,' she said defiantly. 'If you must know, he did. It was time he had ever held me properly in his arms. The in the wind, the heavy hangings which lined wails rippling as if they were going to be torn off their - it was so cold. The boy hadn't kept the brazier out properly, and it was smoking, not giving out Richard came in and I realised Nell must have let pass. Elen would never have let him come to me alone. was with the Earl of Gloucester -' She paused, sit on the floor, hugging her knees, gazing at the table lamp. a long silence. Nick's eyes had not shined from her 'Go on,' he said at last. 'Aren't you going to tell me what glanced up. 'He didn't say anything at all. He just in, dropped the heavy curtains across the tent doorway laced them together, then he took me in his arms. It was first time we had kissed properly and I remember, for a I was afraid. Then I forgot everything- Willi., Will in the next tent with his nurses, the fear that some come- everything. I had never known physical before, only hints of it whenever Richard came near but suddenly I was overwhelmed by it.'.She paused and thoughtfully, 'I think we had both imagined that feeling we had for each other could be contained in some flirtation, but suddenly it took tre. I didn't care what 301 happened. I led him to the bed and he pushed me down on the furs -' She stopped abruptly, seeing Nick's face, and gave an embarrassed little laugh. 'Sorry. I was getting carried away! Anyway it was quite good as I remember. Matilda's first orgasm ' She broke off as he lunged forward and caught her wrist, pn-lling it viciously so that she fell towards him knocking the tray off the low table. The coffee pot slid to the floor and cracked against the table leg, soaking the carpet with coffee. 'Nick, stop it!' she cried. She could feel her arm pressing on a sharp piece of broken china. Warm blood flowed over her wrist. 'Nick please- you're hurting me- plmse, look, Ive cut myself-' The blind fury in his face frightened her. 'It was only a dream, Nick. It wasn't real! For God's sake, what's the matter with you? Nickl' His hand was on her throat, his eyes murderous. Jo struggled frantically, feeling the pre sure on her wind-pipe slowly increase. Then abruptly his mood seemed to change. He moved his hand from her throat, catching her wrists instead, clamping them above her head while with his free hand he began to pull open her bathrobe. The he bent over her and began roughly caressing her breasts. He smiled coldly. 'That's better. You like a little medieval violence, don't you. It reminds you of the good old days-' 'Please Nick! Nck -' Jo was terrified by the blind savagery in his face. She had never seen anyone look like that before, except once... For a moment she stopped struggling and lay still, frozen with fear as she remembered the face of the man who had tried to strangle her before- Nick's other face then with a last desperate pull she manased to break free of him. She roiled away and staggered to her feet, clutching her robe round her. 'Get out! Get out ofbere,' she shouted. 'Get out of this flat, Nick, and never, ever come hackl' Her eyes were blazing with anger. 'Don't you dare lay a f'mger on me again! I don't know what the hell you think you're playing at, but you get out of here. I won't be treated like this. Not ever, do you hear!' She backed away from him towards the front knotting her belt around her waist. 'Did you hear me?' repeated desperately. He was smiling as he stood up. A cool, arrogant smile, turned her anger back to terror. 'Nick, please. What's wrong with you?' She had nearly the front door. Turning quickly she scrabbled with latch, frantically trying to drag the door open, but Nick close behind her. He s|mmed the door shut and rmmed bolt home, then he caught her arm. As he swung her to him Jo screamed. But the sound never came. It was cut : as he clamped his hand across her mouth, puiiing her against him. He half dragged, half carried her down the to the bedroom, and without turning on the light her on the bed. She lay there for a moment, winded, then as she turned, to struggle to her feet again, she felt a blinding blow her face. Half stunned she fell back as Nick's weight down on top of her. 'low, my lady,' he breathed, his t'mgers feeling for the belt, his face so close to hers she could see the of his eyes in the darkness. 'Another sound and I shall to take steps to silence you.' She tried to wriggle sideways as she felt his knee forcing her but he held her easily. Eventually realising that the she fought him the more he was going to hurt her she herself go limp, biting her lip in pain as he forced his inside her. His mouth ground into hers and she opened helplessly beneath probing tongue and suddenly fear she felt a little stab of excitement. As if he it Nick laughed softly, and she felt his grip on her tighten. 'So, my lady, you do enjoy violence,' he whis 'I think in a lot of ways you'll t'md I can please you than Richard de Clare,' and his mouth left hers and itroat towards her breasts. He fell asleep eventually, still spreadeagled over her body, his head between her breasts, his hands, loos at last, outstretched across the bedcover. Agouised, Jo tried to move. She was crying softly, afraid to wake him as she tried again to dislodge the dead weight which pinned her to the bed. In the end she gave up and lay still, staring towards the window where the heavy curtains cut out the first signs of a beautiful dawn. Hick woke just before seven. For a long time he lay 1removing, feeling the woman's, body limp beneath his, then slowly he eased him.elf offher and sat up. He grabbed his trousers and staggered to the window, throwing back the curtain. with a groan. It was full daylight. He looked at his watch in surprise, and then back at the bed as the stark dayfight fell across Jo. She was lying naked on the bedcover, her hair spread across the pillow, her legs apa. There were vivid bruises on her wrists and breasts, and he could see bloodstains on the bedspread. There was a long jagged cut encrusted with dried blood on her forearm, more blood on the inside of her thighs He felt suddenly violently sick. She had not stirred. She did not even seem to be breathing. He threw himselftoward the bed. 'Jo?.yof For God's sake, are you all right?' For a moment she did not move, then, slowly and painfi:tlly, she opened her eyes, dazzled by the light, and stared around the room. It was a few moments before she began to remember. He saw the fear flicker behind her eyes as she looked up at him and a wave of nausea shook him again. She still had not moved but he saw her lick her lips experimentally, trying to speak. Reaching for her bathrobe, thrown across a chn-ir, he laid it gently over her. 'I'll nke some tea,' he said soltly. In the bathroom he tugged at the fight pull and stared at himself in the cold, uncompromieing electric light. His face looked the same as usual. Tired perhaps, and a little grey, but nothing strange. There was a scratch across his shoulder, otherwise nothing to show for Jo's fight for her life. He walked slowly to the kitchen and made the tea, comforting him.elfwith the familiar sounds as he filled the kettle and fished in the jar for two teabags. Then he walked through to the living room. It was cold; the French doors had been open all night. The grass in the square was still silvered with dew. He pulled the doors closed then he turned and picked up his -hirt. There were coffee stain on the sleeve. And blood. Pulling it on he went back to the kitchen. He was numb. Slowly he carried the two mugs back to the bedroom. Jo had not moved. Sitting on the bed beside her he proffered one of the mugs tentatively.. 'Jo-' She turned her head away and closed her eyes. 'Jo, please. Let me explain.' 'There is nothing to explain.' She did not look at him. 'Please just go.' He stood up. 'All right.' He leaned forward as if to touch her shoulder, but he changed his mind. 'I'll come back this evening, Jo. I'll make it up to you somehow,' he whispered. Leaving the two cups of tea untouched beside the bed he walked slowly to the door. Unbolting it, he let himself out onto the quiet landing. As he tiptoed down the stairs towards the street he heard the distant sickly wailing of a baby. For a long time after he had gone Jo did not move. She lay rigid, listening to Will crying. Her fists clenched, her eyes dry, she stared at the wall, feeling the ache ofherbody where lqick had bruised her. Suddenly she sat up. She threw herself out orbed and ran to the bathroom, turning both bath taps on full, then she went to find her address book. Fumbling in her canvas bag in her haste, she pulled the book out and began .flipping through the pages with a shaking hand, trying not to and coffee still which had soaked the middle of the room. stopped at Leigh Delamere service station on the M4, into the crowded car park and resting her head for a moment on the rim of the wheel. She had thrown in her bags, and camera barely fifteen minutes after ringing Pugh. 3O4 3O5 Pulling the rear-view mirror towards her she studied her face. Her lips were still swollen and her eyes were puffy from crying so much in the night. She had dabbed make-up over her white skin and used lipstick and eye-shadow. It made her feel better. The long sleeves and high neck of her Victorian blouse covered the worst ofher bruises. She pulled herself painfilly out of the car and swung her bag over her shoulder. It was only another twenty miles, if that, to the Severn Bridge. Then she would be in Wales. Tim stood for a long time outside the house in Church Road, staring up at the grey slate roof with its dent-illtion of wrought iron decoration. The house was identical to its neighbonrs, save for the front door which was cream with a brightly, polished knocker. The windows were hung with fresh, plain net cxtrtaina, like old-fashioned muslin, he thought, as at last he raised his hand m the knocker. Sylvia Walton opened the door at his second knock. She had plaited her htir and wound it round her head in a silvery braid. It made her look ilke an Austrian peasant. His fingers itched for his camera, but he had not brought it with him. He grinned at her. 'It was very good of yon and Bill to let me come back and talk to you.' Sylvia smiled as she led him up the long fright of stairs. "He was pleased to hear from yon again. Miss Clifford isn't with you this time?' Tim shook his head. He followed her into he room they had been in before, but this time the lines of chairs were missing. Instead a small wheeled table which had been laid for three was standing near the fireplace: Bill Walton was writing at his desk. He rose as his wife ushered Tim into the room and held out his hand. The prominent green eyes surveyed Tim shrewdly. 'So, Mr Heachm you want to try a little regression yourself,' he said with a smile. 'I'm glad you found your previous visit so interesting.' drew the car up in a narrow lane and stared ahead of her a stone arch. Her stomach muscles knotted. Abet Castle. Climbing out of the MG she walked slowly arch and stared around her. night and the long drive from London were up with her fast now and she ached all over with her mind mercifully blank whenever she thought knew was that she did not want to be in and that if anyone could comfort her it would not be Richard - a Richard she might never see again, but physical ache. She drew a painful breath of air into her lungs, nd walked on. This castle too was a ruin but there was far more of it left at Bramber. She stepped onto a grass lawn strewn with and stared up at a mock-Gothic stone keep, unnehow ont of place on the motte at the centre of the bailey the Iqo rmn tower had stood. Around her rose high grey ruined walh, while below the hillaide the river in a lazy curve through the valley. Beyond it lay the Weish hills, shrouded in heat haze. One of the maiv.e was covered in :affoldlng and she could hear the soft the ladde near the top of mammy, where a tree cast its le over the stone. Shivering she began to walk around the perimeter path. here, in the bailey below the motte, the Welsh had lain in terrible dimrray, and in their midst Seisyll his son. She stood still again, staring round. Surely some of the horror must remain? The stench of blood? The She felt the warm wind from the south lift her hair on her neck. A patch of red valerian in the wall near but nothing more. The echoes were ill. William Brame w- dead and Seill long ago avenged. parked her car ontside Janet and David Pugh's neat house tnd rang the doorbell, staring back up empty street as she listened to the sound of footsteps down the stairs and towards the door. For a moment she and Janet stood staring at each other incredulously when the door opened. Janet saw a tall, elegant young woman with long, dark hir wearing a high-necked long-sleeved blouse and well cut slacks, most of her face obscured by dark glasses. Jo saw a very pregnant, fair-haired woman in a sleeveless sum met dress and Scholl sandals. She grinned. 'My God, you've 'So have you.' Janet reached forward tentatively and kissed her cheek. 'Come in. You must have had a hell of a drive from London.' From her bedroom at the top of the house Jo could see the castle DsinR. She stood staring out across the low huddle of retd" tops, her hand on the curtain, before turning to her hoete who was hovering in the doorway. 'It was good of you to let me come like this, with no warning,' she said. 'I had forgotten you lived in Abergavenny, then when I knew I had to come here something clicked in my mind and I remem 'I'm glad you did. You're working on an auicle, you said?' Janet's eyes went to the typewriter standing in its case at the foot of the bed. 'David was very impressed when I rang the school and told him yOU were coming here. You're famous!' Jo laughed. 'Infamous is a better word these days, I fear.' She took a brush out of her bag and ran it down her hair which crackled with static. 'You really don't mind my coming?' Janet shook her head. Her eyes sparkled with sudden irrepressible giggles. 'I'm thrilled. Ry. You're the most exciting thing that's happened to us for months!' She sat down on the end of the bed with a groan, her hand to her back. 'Well, what do you think of Wales, then?' Jo sat down beside her. 'I haven't seen much so far, but what I've seen is beautiful. I think I'm going to love it here.' How could she explain that already it felt like coming home? Impatiently she pushed the sentimental phrase aside and pulled off her dark glau at last, throwing them on the bed. Beneath them her face was very pale. David Pugh came home at about six. He was a squat, florid, sandy-haired man with twinkling eyes. 'So, you've come to see where it all happened,' he said cheerfully as he handedJo a glass of sherry. 'We were intrigued when we read the article about you in the paper.' He stood staring at her for a moment, the bottle still in his hand. 'You're not like her, are you? Hot how I imagined her, anyway.' 'Who?' Jo was looking around the small living room curiously. Books and records overflowed from every shelf and flat surface onto the floor. 'Our Moll Waibee.' He was watching her closely. 'You know who that is, surely?' Jo frowned. She took a sip of sherry. Out of the hack window across the small garden there was a hedge and more roofs and behind them she could still see the pink-grey stone of the strange Gothic keep in the castle grounds. 'Moll Walbee,' she repeated. *It's strange. I seem to know the name, but I can't place it.' 'It is what the Marcher people called Maude de Braose. You seem to prefer the name Matilda, which is, I grant, more euphonious, but nevertheless she was, I think, more often known as Maude.' He poured a glass of sherry for his wife and pushing open the hatch into the kitchen passed it through to her. Janet, a plastic apron over her drew, was chopping parsley. She looked slightly e dropped the knife and took the glass from him. up about that now, David,' she said in an undertone, lncing at Jo. I 'No.' Jo had seen the challenge in David's eyes. 'No, don't shut up. I'm interested. If you know about her I want to hear it. I can see you're sceptical, and I don't blame you. You're a histo I believe?' He snorted. 'I teach history at a local school. That doesn't me a historian, but I have read a bit about the history of ." Braose fmily made a name for them the Welsh for Maude, ofcourse. Waibee, I , comes from St V aierie, which was her father' s name.' He nodded. 'Or it could, I suppose, be a corruption of de h [-Iaie- from her association with Hay-on-Wye, but there must be dozens of parishes up and down the borders which :laim stories about her. She was reputed to be a witch, you now.' Jo raised an eyebrow. 'I didn't know.' She leaned forward md took the bottle out of his hand, refilling his glass and then her own. 'I'm not an historian, David. I know nothing about er, save what I remember from my -' she hesitated, seeing he disbelief in his face, 'my dreams, if you like to call them chat. I looked her up in the Dictionary of National Biography, ut I didn't look at any books on Welsh history. Perhaps I ;hould.' Janet appeared with a saucer of peanuts which she put on he arm of David's chair. 'My husband is a bit of an expert on focal legend,' she said almost- apologetically. 'We must shut him up about it, because if he starts, he'll go on all night.' 'No, I won't.' He frowned at her. 'All I said was that Joanna toes not look like her. She was reputed to have been a giantess. She is said to have stood,in the chtfrchyard at Hay rod, finding a stone in her shoe, thrown it across the Wye, here it landed at Llowes.' He grinned. 'The stone is about en feet long! And of course she built Hay C, ase singlehanded in a night. And she was Mallt y No who you can see riding tcroes the mountaing with the bounds of hell in the wild of a ttorm.' He laughed out loud at the expression on Jo's face. 'She must have been a fearsome lady, Jo. Overpowering, kma.onian even, who kept old William in terror of his life. Or at is the way the story goes.' Jo said nothing for a moment. Then slowly she began to pace up and down the carpet. 'I don't think she was especially ll,' she said reflectively. 'Taller than rilliam yes. And ldler t-hAn a lot Of the Welsh, but then they are a short people -' she broke offin embarrassment, looking at her host. He roared with laughter. 'I'm five foot four, girl, and proud it. It's power not height that counts in the rugby scrum, and ton't you forget it!' Smiling, Jo helped herself to peanuts. 'it's hard to explain what it's like being someone else, even if only as a vivid dream. She doesn't inhabit my skin. I find myself in hers. I think and speak and feel as her. But I don't know her future any more than she Would have known it. Now, talking to you, I know roughly what happened to her, but in the regremions I know no more than we know now what will happen to us tomorrow. If in later life she was called Moll Walbee, I don't know it yet. If later she came to dominate William, I have no 'clue. As a young woman only a year or so married she was afraid of him. And her only defence against him was There was a moment's silence. Janet had seated herself on the arm of a chair near the kitchen door. 'Do you really believe are her reincarnation?' she asked at last, awed. 'Really, in your heart ofhearts?' Jo nodded slowly. 'I think I am beginning to wonder, yes,' 'And are you going to go on being hypnotised to see what This time Jo shrugged. 'I'm not too happy about being hyp to be honest. Sometimes I think I must, other times scared and I swear I'll never go back. I tried to get the make me forget her, but it.didn't work, so know what I'll do.' 'Well, that's honest at least.' David had wandered across to He picked out a heavy tome. 'People who are if not invariably, regress intosev previous lives,' he said thoughtfully. 'I don't think I've a case where just one life was picked out like this." smiled at her quizzically. 'It is most intriguing. Do you Jo hesitated. 'It is as much as I can do to believe in myse,' 'but sometimes I wonder'...' Nick's face sud rose before her eyes. A Nick she had never known. A his face contorted with jealousy and anger, who had her to the bed and raped her, and behind his face 311 mother, a face with red-gold hair and beard - the m-rt who had tried to strangle her. 'Jo, what is it?' Janet's whisper brought her back abruptly o the room where she was sitting. She smiled and gave another shrug. 'Just something I hought of, someone who's been behaving rather strangely.' She bit her knuckles for a moment. 'But if he is the reincarnation of someone from my - from Matilda's past - who is he?' David let out a tittle chuckle. 'Don't worry about it too much, girl. I'm sure it will come to you. Either that, or you'll regain your wits. Now, why don't I find a bottle of wine so we run celebrate your visit, then while we eat IYll help you plan an itinerary so you can follow Matilda's footsteps, startin at Hay where most of her legend is centred. That is why you've :ome to Wales, isn't it? To follow her footsteps?' 'I suppose it must be,' Jo said after a moment. 'You know,' he said, his h-nd to his cheek, 'you could be te her, at that. I suspect you're a very determined lady when ou want to be!' Jo laughed. 'I have that reputation, I believe/ 'And you're not superstitious or anything?' he went on, 'Not in the slightest.' 'Good.' He handed her the book. 'Some bedtime reading br you, Jo. I think you'll Fred it interesting. .qick let him.elfinto his flat with a sigh. He dropped his case o the floor and picked up the mil from inside the door, then te stopped and looked round, fistening. 'Is someone there?' Aninner door opened and Sam appeared, lifting his hand n a laconic greeting. 'Sam!' Nick threw down the letter. Sam raised a cynical eyebrow. 'I don't think I've had so :static a welcome for years!' 'Shut up and listen!' Nick pushed past him and went hrough into the living room. 'I hurt Jo.' Sam had followed him and was about to help himself to a drink. He swung round and stared at Nick. 'You did what?' be said. 'I hurt her, Sam. Last night. We were talking about the regressions and she'began to tell me about things that had happened to her in that life- things she hadn't mentioned under hypnosis. She began talking about de Clare describing how they had made love...' He went to the tray of drinks. 'I grabbed her, Sam. I saw red and grabbed her. I wanted to punish her. I wanted to hurt her. I might have killed her.' Sam was very still. 'Where is she?' Nick shrugged. 'I don't know. I rang a dozen times this morning and went back at lunch-time. Her car had gone. I went up to the flat and looked round. She'd taken her typewriter and a case. There wasn't a note or anything.' Pushing him aside, Sam poured out two glasses of Scotch. He handed his brother one, then stood watching him thoughtfully. 'How badly did you hurt her?' Nick shrugged. 'She knocked the tray off the coffee table and cut her arm. That was an accident, but I was pretty rough with her -' 'Did you rape her?' Nick could feel Sam's eyes on him. He straightened defiantly. 'Technically, I suppose I did.' 'Techni ly?' There was something in the coldness of Sam's voice which made Nick step back. 'She and I have been living together on and offfor years, for God's sake!' 'That is hardly the point.' Sam sat down slowly. 'So, you forced her. Did you beat her up?' 'I hit her. She was covered in bruises. I don't know what came over me, Sam. It was as if I wasn't me any more. I couldn't control myself. I knew I was hurting her, and I didn't the pocket of his jacket for a pack . extracted one, then threw it down with a curse. is all such a mess. I was jealous, Sam, of a man 313 wtm died God knows how many hundreds of years ago. I thought for a while it was Jo going out of her mind. Now I think it's me!' He threw him.lf down opposite his brother. 'You've got to help me. What the hell do I do?' Sam leaned back in his hair. He was gently swirling his 'Have you ever considered,' he said thoughtfully, 'that Jo might not be. the only one amongst us who is living Nick snorted. 'You're not suggesting I am the reincarnation of her husband, or something?' 'No.' Sam's voice was icy. 'I am not suggesting that. But I think it possible that you were perhaps someone close tO her in the past.' Nick stared at him. 'Are you serious?' 'Perfectly.' 'Oh come onl Don't hand me that crap. Jo might have been persuaded by all this. In fact she actually asked me if I thought I'd lived before ' 'Perhaps she recootmixed you.' 'No! Oh no, I don't believe it. I'vegot enough problems in this life, and I'd have thought you'd have more sense than to encourage her. You of all people who saw the danger right from the start! 'I saw the danger.' Sam swung his feet up onto the coffee table. 'But as Jo would not sidestep it, neither can we.' Nick glanced at him sharply. 'What do you mean exactly?' Sam had closed his eyes. 'There is one way of finding out whether you were involved in her past, Nick,' he said. 'How?' Nick paused. 'Oh no). You think I'm going to Bennet to let him try his.regression on me?' 'There's no need.' Sam took a sip from his glass. 'I can do it. Nick's mouth dropped open. 'Are you mggesting that I let you hypnotise me?' he said incredulously. 'If so, you're out of your skull!' 'Why not? I have a feeling you might be surprised by what we find out.' Sam smiled gently. 'Have you never wondered why Jo and you were so instantly attracted when you first it not have been that you were lovers once before? Is it not possible that the Richard she loved so much was your ego, eight hundred years ago?' He was watching Nick's closely. 'It might he fun to find out,' he went on I)ersuasively. 'It couldn't do any harm, and it might explain a towards Jo now.' . Hick sat down on the edge of a table, one foot on the carpet, other swinging slowly hack and forth. 'I don't believe I'm this. You actually think I am the reincarnation of Sam shrugged. 'When dealing with anything like this, I keep an open mind. I think for Jo's sake you ought to B well. You owe it to her, if only to fred out why you attacked His eyes narrowed. why,' Nick said slowly, "if I was Richard de Clare, jealous of himT' Sam smiled. 'Good question. Shall we fred out?' 'Perfectly. If you don't regress, fair enough. Hot everyone by any means. At least we will have tried. If you do, it be interesting.' 'And you expect me to trust you!' Hick stared at him sus 'After what happened to Jo?' happened to Jo?' Sam's voice was hard. 'She is a trance subject, Hick, you are not. The experience would . for you.' 'I'm glad to hear it,' Hick said coolly. 'There are one or two you never explained, Sam.' His knuckles tightened on glass. 'Like why'it was necessary for Jo to take off her olher night, when you regressed her.' raised an eyebrow. 'Is that what she said happened?' is what she said.' Hick was watching him closely. smiled. 'She experiences the trances so vividly she it hard to differentiate between that stae.and reality, at a time, as I told you.' 'It wa reality, Sam, that I found her clothes that night, hidden in the living room -' 'Perhap she put them there before I came.' Sam crod one knee over the other, his whole body relaxed. 'I'm not sure what you are implying, Nicholas, but may I remind you that it is you who raped Jo, not I. It is you who needs help. I think you need to try hypnosis.' Still uncertain, Nick hesitated. 'I suppoae it would do no harm to try. And I'd rather you did it than Bennet,' he said at last, reluctantly. 'But I hate the idea. And I doubt if it would work on me, anyway.' 'Why don't we try?' Sam sat up slowly. 'In fact, why don't we have a go now? You're worried. You're fired. If nothing else, I can help you to relax.' He .miled. 'Come and sit down over here, little brother. That's right, facing the window. Now. Relax. Put the glass down, man. You're clutching it like a lifebelt! Now, let's see whether you can do one or two little ts for me. We'll start with the lamp.' Sam leaned forward and switched on the Angiepuise at.Nick's elbow. `No, don't look at the light. I want you to look past it, into the comer of the room.' Nick laughed suddenly. 'It's like having the "fluence" put on you by someone at school. Why don't you use a watch and 'It may have escaped your notice, Nicholas, but I don't wear It watch and cha-in' Sam moved silently from his chair and gently put his thumb and forefinger on Nick's eyelids. 'Now, look towards the lamp again and start counting slowly backwards from one hundred.' Several minutes later Sam stood up. He was smiling. He walked towards the window and threw it up, staring out for a minute up the narrow street opposite towards the tra/c in Park Lane. Then he turned towards Nick, who was lying back in his hir, his eyes closed. 'Comfortable, little brother?' he said softly. 'No, don't try and answer me. You can't. I don't want you to speak at all. I want you to listen.' knocked on Jo's door as she was undressing late that Pushing it open she hovered for a moment, staring at Jo wearing only her bra and brief% was sitting on the edge 'God, I'm sorry! I didn't think-shall I come back?' Janet backed away. 'I brought us some cocoa. I like to chat a bit. Old Welsh custom!' Jo laughed. 'Come in.' She reached for her thin silk hastily and drew it round her. anet sat down on the stool in front of the kidney-shaped table, manoenvring her heavy body with difficulty. I wanted to apulogise for David. He can be a bit belliger at times. He shouldn't have given you the third degree like He tends to think all Welsh history is his special pro resents anyone else who is interested in it, as you can't have failed to gather, he is a rabid 'Quite apart from thinking that I am completely mad any right at that. I'm glad he order me out of your house. I really did want to know Matilda, though - his Moll Walbee.' She reached for slowly. 'It was so odd to hear him talk her with such knowledge. He knew so much more do, and yet at the same time, he didn't know Janet gave a rueful laugh. 'That could apply to David on a of subjects.' She was silent a moment, watching a Jo from her mug. The pale blue silk of Jo's sleeve slipped back to her elbow, showing clearly the livid round her wrist and the long curved gash on her arm. she said tentatively. 'I couldn't help noticing-the and that awful cut -' she coloured slightly. 'Tell me if of my business, but well.., you sounded in such a you rang this morning.' She groaned slightly, her handto her back. 'There is more to this sudden trip than just research, isn't there?' Jo set down the mug and pulled her sash more tightly around her waist. 'A bit of men trouble,' she admitted reluctantly at last. 'And he did that to you?' Jo sighed. 'He was drunk - far more I think thn I realised. I've never seen Hick like that before.' 'Nick?' Jo laughed wryly. 'The man in my life. Corriou, the run who w in my life. e'd been having lo of rows and we split up a couple oftim, then w got back together and I thought veryhlng was going to he all right. Then uddanly-' she in mid-sentence. 'It was to do with my regrio. He doesn't approve of my doing it and he became a bit uptight about a lover I - Matilda - had had in the past...' 'Richard d Clare?' Janet nodded. 'I remember him from the article. He sounded really rather a dish. Every woman's fantasy man!' She brohe off with an clamtion. 'You mean flfi Nick knocked you abou becanse you udked about a lover in a previous life while you were being hypnofis' Jo lay b on the bed, her arm acro her f-. 'I think that wa what k wa about. The awful thing was I think I wanted to tell him about Richard. I wanted him to know.' 'And is the man you mantioned earlier, the ou you aid had been behaving $o srangely you wondered if he had |o nodded. She rolled over so that she could see Jane's face. 'Im't k mug? You and I to talk in hool about how it would be. You were fl one who w never going to mrry or have ldd. Now look at you. lephanfin And I was going to he a woman alou, wirlmut men.' 'I always thought that was a stupid idea,' Janet put in humoroudy. 'One has to have men. Lovers.' Jo sared at the ceiling thoughtfully. 'We were so idealic, o naive Do you know, I found out tin, ugh Matilda what it was lie to he forced to manTa man you hated. Forced, by a 318 father who doted on you, yet who by custom because you were a mere woman, had to hand you and your inheritance on to another man. I became a man's property, Janet. He could do what he wanted with me. Threaten me, lock me up, treat me like a slave and order me into his bed and expect me m obey him. It's been like that for women for centuries and only now are we fighting for liberation. It's unbefievable.' She sat up. 'The only way I - I mean Matilda - could keep him out of her bed was to tell him when she was pregnant that a witch had foretold doom for the baby if he touched her.' Janet chuckled. 'I'd like to see Dave's face if I tried that Mind you, I like him to touch me. Imagine, in my condi She patted her stomach affectionately, then she glanced 'Did you - did Matilda have the baby?' Jo nodded. 'Do you want to hear the gory details of medi Perhaps it's not tactful at the moment. The range of facilities were available to me - no expense A pile of straw to soak up the blood, a midwife who of ale and had all her front teeth missing - I imagine out by a previous client - and I was given a rosary to I broke it, which was considered an ill omen, and I had a stone tied on a thong around my neck. I was naked, of and the labour went on for a day and a night and most next day.' shuddered. 'Spare me. I'm going to have an epidural. it hurt terribly?' Jo nodded. 'I was too tired by the end to know what was on properly. Then afterwards, in real life, I began to milk for that poor scrap of a baby who was only a 'You're not serious.' Janet looked shocked. 'Oh, it only, lasted a day or two, thank God, but it was rather at the time.' Janet was staring at her. 'It.doesn't seem possible.' 'No.' 'And your Nick. Did he know about all this?' He was, you might say, present at the birth. He 319 was watching while I was describing it all under hypnosis.' 'Then I'm not surprised he's a bit rattled.' Janet shivered 9gain. 'The poor man must really feel weird. I'll tell you one thing. If all that had happened to me, I'd never let myself be hypnotized again as long as I lived. Neverl' She shuddered theatrically. 'You wouldn't want to know what happened?' 'But you do know what happened, Jo. David showed you, in that book. She died. Horribly.' Jo drew her knees up to her chin and hugged them. 'She died in about 1211. The events I am describing happened around 1176. That's thirty-five years later.' 'And you're going to relive thirty-five years of her life?' Janet's expression dissolved suddenly into her irrepressible smile. 'I take it t-hi is a fairly long project, Jo?' The smile faded abruptly. 'I t-hink yott're mad. Nothing on earth would make me go through with that deliberately. Didn't Dave say she had six children? Are you going to go through another five pregnancies and delivertes like that first one? I'm prepared to bet real money they still hadn't even invented morphine by the turn of the thirteenth century.' Jo grinned tolerantly. 'Perhaps you're right. And it is a pretty thankless task, with .no baby at the end of it...' She blinked rapidly, aware of a sudden lump in her throat. Janet heaved herself to her feet and came and put her arm around her shoulders. 'I'm sorry, Jo. I didn't mean to upset 'You haven't.' Jo pulled away from her and stood up. 'Besides, if I'm honest I have a particular reason for wanting to go hack Not just to see Will, though I want to hold him so much sometimes it hurts.' She gave an embarrassed smile. 'I have to go back to see Richard again I need him, Janet. He's got under my skin. To me he is completely real.' 'Suppming Matilda never saw him again,' Janet said thoughtfully after a moment. 'Then I'll have to learn to live without him. But until I know for sure I have a feeling I shall go back. Come on,' she 32O for the bedcover and pulled it down. 'I need my sleep, even if you don't. Tomorrow I am going to Hay Brecon and places to see if I can lay Matilda's ghost. iF i then there will be no more regressions. No more Richard. an article in Women in Action which will be of passing some and total boredom to others and then it will forgotten.' climbed into bed and lay back tensely after Janet had staring up at the ceiling in the dark, half afraid that all i talk of babies might once more conjure up the sound of in the echoing chambers of that distant castle, but she ; but the gentle sighing of the wind. the window the clouds streamed across the moon i shadowed silver played over the ruins. If Seisyll's ghost she did not see him. Within rain." utes she was asleep. .,breezes of Sussex were gentle after the frosty mornings of west and the trees were still heavy with leaves as yet , frost. As Matilda's long procession slowly trav the last miles to Bramber she could see from far away the of the castle, standing sentinel on its height above the Adur. They rode slowly down the long causeway into small village which clung among the saltings around the of the castle hill. The parish church and the castle looked : marshes and the deep angle of the river towards The tide was in and the deep moat full of water as they across the drawbridge, with gulls swooping and around them and diving into the slate-coloured beloved nurse Jeanne greeted them outside the tower joy, but she had news of death. is it, Jeanne dear? Is it the old lord?' Matilda gazed as she lipped from her horse, dreading suddenly any f sickness which might come near her son. He was and vulnerable. She ached sometimes with love for , and with the terrible fear ofwhat might become 'It's Sir William's mother, the Lady Bertha.' Jeanne's wrinkled old face was suddenly solemn. 'She slipped on the stairs and broke her thigh two months since. She lived on for weeks in terrible pain, poor soul, and then she died at last a week ago, God rest her. The bones were too old to knot properly.' The old woman crossed herself and then looked up shrewdly under her heavy eyelids. 'I wonder you didn't meet the messengers we sent after Sir Willi-m. You'll be mistress ofyour own, now, ma p'tite. I'm glad for you.' ,Secretly Matilda felt no sorrow for the domineering old woman, but she felt a moment's regret for William, who had cared for his mother in an embarrassed way. WilliAm had left Gloucester with the King, taking with him most of his fighting men, save her escort, after a brief, futile enquiry into the murder of the three missing knights. It would be some time before he returned to Bramber. Matilda suppressed the smile of relief which kept wanting to come. It might not be seemly, but a great weight had been lified from her mind. She had dreaded her meeting with Bertha. The old woman's bitter tongue would not have spared her a lashing for her improp.riety and disobedience in leaving Bramber the year before, nor would she have allowed Matilda to continue ordering-her husband's household. She glanced round at Bernard who was sitting slackly on his roan gelding behind her, apparently lost in thought. He would have lost all his respect for her ff he'd heard Bertha. Now there was no danger. Bramber was hers. Breathing a silent prayer of grati rude she raised her arm in a signal and the tired pressiou of horses and waggons moved slowly under the gatehouse into the steeply cobbled bailey within. Dismounting once more, Matilda followed Jeanne into the cool dimness of the great hall and looked around with a quiet sigh .of satisfaction at the beautiful arched windows, trimmed with delicately carved flintstoue borders and the intricate carving which adorned pillars and doorways. Bramber was beautiful compared with Brecknock. Beautiful, civilised and safe. She forced herself to go at once to look at the recumbent body other father :m-law. It was because he still lived that Bertha had l-mAined migt.reas of Bramber. Had he died as God, she was mre had intended, Bertha would have gone to her dower lands charge of the castle. It was because he still lived too, that Willim was in such a strange posirion, a haron in all but ritle. She looked down at old William's face. He had changed not at all since she had left Bramber. The skinwas per Imps more shrunken, the eye rockets more hollow as his , at the ceiling. The only sign 'life was the clawed hand which grasped inceantly at the light kiss on the papery skin of his brown cheek. He gave no and after a moment she left his bedside. In the privacy of her own solar she hugged Jeanne again, and Will from his nurse, unwrapped him herself and pre- him for the old woman's inspection. Jeanne ,amlned sleeping face. Then to Matilda's refiefshe nodded ' she commented. 'He does you credit, 'tit., but then I'd expect you to have bonny children.' She sideways at Matilda. 'I can see you're going to have That is good. This time I shall be near to watch Matilda smiled. She had suspected that she was pregnant though outwardly her slim waist hadn't thickened an so she wondered how Jeanne could tell so easily. But she happy. This time she would stay at Bmmber. Nothing to travel alier William as she had done before. possibility of the evil eye being directed at 'unborn child. She took Jeanne's hands and kissed the old The black mist-covered mountains ' memories seemed very far away. her second son, was born in April the following year, as ' scented air of Sussex drifted like balm through the windows of Bramber Casrie, bringing with it the slight of salt from the hazy Channel, floating in from the salrings 323 below, and from the fields and Downs, the heady perfume of apple blossom and bluebeils. As the c/ld was laid, sleeping peacefully, in its crib, Jeanne slipped/silently to the glowing hearthstone and there laid wine and water and fresh toweh for the fairies. With their blessing the child would grow strong and. lucky. Matilda felt a sudden shiver of fear. There had been no such magic for baby Will. Dimly she remembered as a bad dream from the past the vision she had had at her eldest son's birth and she crossed herself, afraid for him. Then, even as she tried to recall the meaning of the vision it blurred and sfipped from her and she saw that Jeanne was watching her with strangely narrowed eyes. Matilda fought to look away but somehow she could not move. The memory grew dim and she saw only the reflection of the sunfight glinting on the ewer of water by the fire, and then again she slept. In her bed at Ahergavenny Jo stirred in her sleep as the dream faded. The moonlight touched her face with cold fingers and she flung her arm across her closed eyes and shivered before lying still again. 'I want you to listen to me carefully.' Sam sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of Nick, his eyes on his brother's face. 'You trust me, don't you?' Imperceptibly Nick nodded. 'Good. And you know I would do nothing to harm you and I think it would harm you, Nick, to take you back into the past too soon. First I must prepare you. I must warn you who you were in that life, long ago...' Sam paused, a flicker of grim humour straying across his.face. 'You were not Richard de Clare, Nick, and you have good reason to be jealous &him. He was your friend and your adviser. And he was your rival. You and he both loved Matilda de Braose. But Richard won her. It was to him that she turned. She despised you. She feared you and hated you. She was your enemy, Nick. Do you remember?' He paused, watching Nick's face closely as his brother shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his face sombre. gaze had strayed from Sam towards the lamp once more, fixed on it, the pupils pin-sized in the brilliant blue of flood-lit irises. Hanging down towards the carpet at his one of his hands twitched involuntarily as he clenched l unclenched his fret. Sam smiled, wondering for a brief second if what he was had a grain of possibility bchind it. Where had the :in his brother come from? One day he would find out but not today. Today he was setting the scene. 'I think perhaps you do remember, Nick,' he went on 'You were a prince when you first saw her. Shewas and tall and charming. A lady. And you were a Do you remember? You were born too late. She the first woman you ever desired and she was already md the mother of his child, and you were ,, still even to screw the serving wenches you caught the dark corners of the palace. You made do then with their breasts and thrusting your hand up their skirts, later it was different. Later you could have any woman wanted. And you took them. Peasant or ldy. Willing or Your reputation has echoed down through the centuries. took them all. All save Lady de Braose. Her scorn you. When she looked at you, you knew she still you as a snivelling child. And your love began to sour. determined to bring her to her knees, do you remember, You told her husband to control her better, but he weak.' His jaw tightened momentarily. 'She needed help and he failed her. When he should have her and bridled her shrewish tongue, he let her He let her walk into your trap, when he could have He stopped, unable to go on for a moment, sweat out'on his forehead as he watched Nick's face. 'You then, and you determined she would pay for her her life.' He sat forward on the edge of the table, hooking his fore into the knot of his tie, and pulling it loose whilst him the sky was losing its colour, the sunset fading as the glare of street lights took over outside the open window. 'And now, Nick,' he went on after a pause, 'you and she have been born in another century and in another world, and this time you are not a child. This time she sees you as a man, a man she finds attractive, a man to whom she has submitted. But you cannot trust her. Your hate remains. You have not forgotten, Nick. And you have not forgiven. You swore vengeance against Matilda de Braose eight hundred years ago and you are pursuing it still.' He stood up abruptly and turned away from his brother, tearing off his shirt and throwing it to the carpet. He was perspiring heavily as he stood at the window and took deep breaths of the cool evening air, consciously trying to slow his pulse rate as he felt the violence of his heart beating beneath his ribs. Suddenly he laughed out loud, throwing back his head exultantly. 'And this time, my friend,' he murmured, 'when she calls on her husband for help, it will be there. I shall not let her down again. I have waited for the chance to make amends, and now at last I have it. Now at last e are all once more on the stage together.' He turned. 'You will love the role I've given you, Nick. You always were a conceited little bastard- so self-assured. So clever. So sure every woman will fail for you. And they all do, don't they? But Jo is beginning to see through you. She has tasted your violence now. She no longer trusts you.' He walked back towards Nick and pushed him back on the seat with a .contemptuous hand. 'When she rejects you you will be angry. You will hit her again, Nick, and this time she will come to me. She will always come to me, I shall see to that. And I shall comfort her. She'll return to you for more because there is something of the masochist in Jo. Violence exdtes her. She may even tempt you to kill her, Nick. But I shall be there.' He smiled evenly. 'And this time I shall be the one in charge. This time I shall have men to help me. And you will crawl away, my.liege,' his voice was heavy with sarcasm and there were little bubbles of spittle on his lips. 'You will lickyour wounds and beg for forgiveness as Willia-m did to his . and I shall have you sent away, not to hide in France to a whimpering shameful death like William had to, no, I have you committed, brother mine, to an asylum. The of place they put people who live in a world of make and pretend that they are kings. And Jo will come to be mine. She will repent that she slighted me and for forgiveness and I will console her as a husband walked towards the tray and poured himself half a of whisky. He drank it down at a gulp and then listening to me, Nick?' He turned slowly. moment Nick gave no sign of having heard, then he nodded. you understood what I have told you?' his lips. 'I understand,' he said at last. smiled. 'Good,' he said softly. 'So, tell me what your was, Nicholas, in this past life ofymn's.' at Sam with alarming directness. what you must do?' shifted in his chair. He was still staring at Sam but was a clouded, puzzled look on his face. frowned. He put down his glass. 'Enough now,' he I am going to wake you soon. You ask me to hypnotise you again, tittle brother. You find hypnosis is soothing. It makes you feel good. You are to forget all that I have told you today with your con mind, but underneath, slowly, you will remember, so you are next with Jo you will know how to act. Do was peremptory. one other thing.' Sam picked up his shirt and began to straighten the sleeves. 'A favour for a friend. Jo comes back you must go'and see Miss Curzon. peace with her, Nick. You like Judy, remember? good in bed. She makes you feel calm and happy. Not makes you angry. Go and see Judy, Nick. Soon.' 327 He smiled. 'Now, I want you to relax. You are feeling happy now and at ease. You are feeling rested. That's good. Now, slowly I want you to count from one to ten. When you reach ten you will awake.' He threw himself down on the chair, his head back aga-inst the cushion and watched with a mocking grin as, slowly, Nick began to count. 'Abergavenny, Crickhowelt, Tretower,' Jo murmured as she swung the MG onto the A40 next morning. She glanced up at the line of hilLs and then at the gleam of the broad Usk on her left, and she shivered, remembering the icy feel of the water, the snow beneath her bare feet and the silence of the hilLs Thankfully she concentrated as a tractor swung out onto the narrow road ahead of her. She leaned forward and turned on the car radio. She could not look at the hills now, not as well as bold the car on the road. She turned the station up loudly and, hooting at the tractor, tore past him north towards Hay, refusing to let herselfthink about the vast empty area of moor and mountain far away on her right. The approach from Talgarth was along the foot of the small foothills which hid the huge shoulders of Pen y Beacon and Twmpa - the Black Mountains which David had showed her on his map - but she could smell them through the open roof of the car, the sweet indefinable smell of the mountains of Wales, which she rememberefl, from her dream. The town of Hay, nestling in a curve of the Wye, was a maze of little narrow streets, crowded and busy, which clustered around the gaunt, imposing half ruin which was the castle. Drawing into a parking space in the market square immediately below the castle Jo sat staring up at it in awe. In front of her, to the left, was a cluster ofancient ruins, whilst at the right-hsnd end of the edifice was a portion which looked far more recent and appeared to be in the course of rebuilding and restoration. That part looked as ff it might have been recently inhabited. She climbed out of the car feeling strangely disorientated; this time yesterday she had been 328 standing in the London flat, phoning Janet Pugh. Now she was standing within a stone's throw of the building which Matilda had built. She took a deep breath and made herself turn away towards the crowded streets behind her. First she must find a guide book. Bookshops throng the narrow streets of Hay-onWye. Shelves overflow onto the pavements. Fivepenny paperbacks rub shoulders with priceless esoterica and antiquarian treasures. Fascinated, Jo wandered around, resisting the urge to ; top and browse, drawn constantly back to the brooding grey ruin. She bought her guide, a history of the town and a little meet map, then, with a pasty, an apple and a can of lager she down the hill towards the Wye, away from the was too mon to look at the castle. First she wanted to her bearings. Beyond the high modern bridge which spanned the river found a footpath leading down through the trees to a of the broad expanse of peat-stained so thickly in places with the tiny white flow that the water was almost hidden. She for a moment staring down at the river as it rippled eastwards towards Hertfordshire, pouring over the sculpted boulders and rocks through fiat water and away from the mountains, then she found a piece of sun-baked shingle and sat down. Opening lager, she propped her back against a bent birch tree, the water. Out of the comer of her eye she saw a of jewelled colours and recognis her first sight of a Enchanted she stared after it, but it had vaniahed 'as it had come. iShe lalmmaged in her bag for her books, and sat eating as through them, every now and then glancing up at town beyond the river to glimpse the castle at its centre, or church nestling beyond the bridge in the trees. Each time found her gaze drawn back to the water, watching it as formed patterns and swirls in the reflections of the A feather danced past, curled white in the sun, and far out in the middle of the current a fish jumped, silver-bellied, and plunged back in a circle of ripples. The afternoon was very hot and still. Jo nodded, and her book fell into her lap. Forcing her eyes open she made herself stare at the water again, trying to concentrate on staying awake, but the reflectiom danced in her eyes, d.ling, forcing her to clme them again, and slowly, imperceptibly, the und of the water dnlled and grew muffled. It was only after a long while that she realk she could hear the round of horses' hooves. England lay beneath a pall of dust. The summer sun burning down beneath a coppery sky smelled acrid and the hot breeze which occasionally fnned the travellers' faces was dust-laden and gritty. . Wearily Matilda pulled up her hone at last. The groom who had been walking at its head raised his hand and the whole fired procession halted. Behind. them the forests and mlliug hills of Hertfordshire shimmered in haze. The Bor clef March, a vast, wild area of forest and mountain and desolate moorland, lay before them to the west. At their feet they could soe at last the River Wye, which had shnmk in places to a narrow ribbon of water flowing between broad trips of whitened shingle. There were deep pools, shadowed from the beating overhead sunfight by the crowding alders and hazels, which in places overhung the water, and by great black rocks brought down by the spring floods. They alone were cool and green, the last refuge of salmon and grayling. William was once again in attendance on the King, this time in Normandy. Matilda had received a memage from him hortly before she left Bramber. The household had stayed there too long, overtaxing the facilities, running its mpplies down to nothing, but still she had been reluctant to obey Wllllam's imtrnctiom to set off once more for Wales. He planned to join her there, the message said, by Martinmas, so that he could enjoy some of the late on's hunting in the Hay fort. One by one the horses and men picked their way almost across the silver shallows. Before them lay the small of Hay. It clustered around the church of St Mary the neighbouring wooden castle on its rump securely by a thick high hawthorn hedge, trailing with and brambles. Outside the hedge the small red-gold with brittle corn, showed up in the heavy encroaching forest. Somewhere nearby were the mountain% but they had withdrawn beneath a which hid all but the lowest wooded slopes of the ' rode slowly through the gap in the hedge, and turned the beaten earth track towards the castle. It was little more a wooden tower, built upon a motte thrown up on the overlooking the river. Bdow it lay the still, deep waters i the church pool, e surface streaked with fronds of green To the west of the castle flowed the Login Brook, the heat of the sun. halted the procession again just outside the castle looked wearily around. The steward of the manor waiting for her beside the church and next to him, the vicar and the castellan. She tried mile at them. She was bored with the fawning servants castles and manors; she had wanted to Brecknock which at least she knew and where the Robert and Hugh still served, but Hay it had to be, eleven miles to the northeast. William had insisted on it. was consdom of eyes peering at her from dark door. and round corners. An old man, his limbs wasted and lay propped up against the wall of an outhouse r and he smiled toothlessly and nodded as he saw her rest on him. Several children ran giggling behind her which dragged horribly as to keep up with his friends. , Matilda, you are welcome to the Hay.' The steward md bowed low, his long hair falling acro bare crown of his head to reveal an ancient scar. He introduce! himself as Madoc, the castellan as Tom the Wolf, and the thin cadaverous vicar as Philip. They bowed in unison. Then Madoc straightened up. He looked Matilda in the eye, no trace of servility in his manner. 'The castle is prepared for you, my lady, if your servants will bring in the furnishings, and the kitchem are ready for your cook. We've had the fires burning since dawn. You have a visitor, my lady.' His eyes narrowed in the sunlight. 'The F, arl of Clare rode in yesterday. He is in the castle waiting for you.' 'The Earl of Clare?' Matilda's heart stood still for a moment. It was months since she had allowed herself to think of him And now, suddenly, tmnnoulced and unexpected, he was here! She did not bother m remount her exhausted horse. The rein over her arm, she picked her way over the dry turf ral3k with thitles, and made her way in excitement towards the gate in the castle wall. Richard had just returned from a hawking expedition. He was standing, stripped to the waist, at the foot of the stair which led up the side of the steep motte m the castle tower, while one of his men poured buckets of Cold water over his head. He was quite unembarraumt when he saw her. 'My lady!" He took another bucket of water full in the face and spluttering turned to cha the mtn away. The long line of pack mlmal, waggous and attendants was crowding into the bailey around them, milling in the dust as they halted and began to dismount and unload, before making their way towards the stahles and lodgings around the inside of the high wall. Matilda stood unnoticing in the middle of them all, smiling, watching as Richard towelled himself dry and wriggled into his tunic. Her heart was beating very fast. He fastened his belt and ran his fingers through his wet holt. 'Were's Sir William, my lady? I see he isn't with you.' He ran ahead of her two at a time up the stairs to the keep. It was hot and stuffy inside and full of acrid unoke from the fire in the hearth. Matilda followed him more slowly and stopped abruptly, her eyes mtarting as she tried to accustom them m the dark after the bright run outside. When she Could see at last she saw Richard gather up his sword and gird on. 'William is in attendance on the King. What are you here at Hay, Richard?' Suddenly she felt shy and ill at 'Waiting for you, of come.' He raised his eyebrow stepping cloe to her to kiss her hand. 'I'm returning so I sent mot of my people ahead and stayed do a little hawking in your beautiful valley. I heard you your way. It's been so long.' He was still holding her She tried to pull it away without success. 'Lord de Clare .' she glanced behind her at the doorway. 'I've tried again and again to visit you,' he went on in a 'but events have always stood in the way. I've been France with the King or up north or in the Marches, but you've been here, or in far away Suffolk.' He still her hands, looking into her eyes solemnly. 'Dear sweet but I've missed you so.' Richard, please.' She interrupted him, pulling her away at last. 'Please don't talk like that.' She hesitated, her light travelling cloak slip from her shoulders to the i uncertainly into his face, He had not changed all from the carefree youth who had escorted her across He was a tall young ran-n, fractionally taller than broad shouldered and painfully slim, with merry hazel She bit her lip and half'turned. what's wrong?' He swung his sword comfortably his hip. 'Why do you look so sad? I thought you might see me!' Richard.' She swallowed, and smiled at him with 'You'll never know how glad. It's just that... I'm that's aft. We've ridden such a long way today.' lady...' turned to t'md Jeanne pulling at her sleeve. The old face was disapproving. 'The little ones are asleep my lady. You should be the same.' The old woman to pick up the fallen cloak which lay forgotten on the ground. 'Your room is prepared. I'm sure Lord de Clare will excuse you after your long journey.' 'That I won't, old dame.' Richard reached for Matilda's hand again. 'Come, my lady, call for food and wine and music! We'll celebrate your arrival. I'm not letting you slip away to sleep with children tonight. You need cheering up, not sleep.' His high spirits were fectious, and Matilda could not help laughing with him, her eyes on his smiling face. It would be good to celebrate her arrival. Her weariness and depression began to sfip away. She turned to Jeanne. 'Go to the children, they need you now, I don't. I can rest later.' 'My lady, you're most unwise. You must rest.' Stubbornly Jeanne remained at her elbow. ?I said you can go, Jeanne,' Matilda rounded on her. 'Lord de Clare and I have much to talk about.' Jeanne hesitated, her hands braced stubbornly at the front of her full black skirts, then rehtctantly, muttering to herself, she left them, vanishing behind the screen at the end of the hall; 'She watches you closely, that one,' he whispered, as she lelL Matilda turned to follow his gaze. Then she laughed. 'She was my nurse before she was my children's. Sometimes I think she forgets I'm grown up now. Now, my lord, tell me all the news, and cheer me up. I command it.' She clapped her hallds to summon her page. 'Bring fights, and food and seats, Simon. Let's see what kind of food those Hay fires can provide.' Richard, one foot on a stool near the fire, gazed at her for a moment, head to one side. 'We'll have music and poetry and good wine and conversation in that order. Will that cheer you?' He raised an eyebrow and grinned. 'If it doesn't, I'm sure I can think of one or two other thinss which might appeal.' He looked down at the rushes for a moment. When he looked up she could see that the colour in his cheeh had risen He caught her eye and for a moment, as they stood in the centre of the bustle of preparation, they gazed each other without speaking. She felt a stab of excitement body, and swallowed nervously. He feels the she thought and she felt herself beginning to tremble. first. 'William joins me here soon for the autumn hunting.' Her ' more than a whisper. i'Auwmn is a long way away, my lady.' Taking her hand, he it almost to his lips. Then he let it fall. 'Come, where is must have music while we eat.' ' awake a long time that night, listening to the owls in the yew trees below the Login Brook. She could the touch of Richard's ha-nd on hers, and sense the mes his eyes as, sitting next to her, he had shared her dish ate, and listening to the boy who piped one dance tune another for them. The firelight had played on his face as leaned back in his chair and she had seen him watchin her, eyes never leaving her face. She lay still and fought back longing which overwhelmed her, trying to think .instead two baby sons, asleep with their nurses. The river was lapping gently over its stones, murmuring. beyond the. bailey wall. The castle was silent. She at the ceiling over her head and the rail rom which curtains hung, and stared, near to tears, into the Somewhere in the blackness of the room beyond the cur board creaked. She moved her head slightly, trying to between the heavy folds of material. Perhaps one of her in their sleep? Not a breath of wind moved the trees" outside. She stiffened. A aright scraping noise followed by profound silence. It was as though too, was listening in the dark. forget the sudden awful of the shadow outside the walls of her tent at The entire garrison was within earshot ff she screamed, and there could be no enemies within the castle. She shut her eyes, her fingers clutching the thin sheet up round her face. Then distinctly she heard the slight rattle of a curtain ring. Someone was touching the curtains of her bed. Her mind flew to Richard. Surely he would not be so stupidly reckless? She lay teme, waiting, not daring to open her eyes. The curtain were eased hack a little more find she felt a slight prepare on the bed as someone leaned over her. Little prickles ofpanic were bei'nning to cha up and down her hack and she fought desperately to remain till. Something wet fell on her hir, then on her face and her shoulder. A light mist like spring rain. Then she heard whipered words. She strained her ears trying to hear, wondering what prevented her till from crying out. It was a woman's voice, intoning softly. It sounded like a prayer. Or a spell. She felt herself grow cold. It was Jeanne; Jeanne was casting a spell on her. She tried to sit up, to shout at the old woman, to scream for Elen or the guards, but a black silken web 'emed to be holding her down, She opened her mouth, but no sound would come. The voicewas silent and she heard the curt-in being closed gently once more. ,The old woman had gone. Whatever her spell had been, it was complete. It was too late to fight it. Matilda tried to raise her hand to make the signs against evil and the sign of the cross but her hCnds were too heavy to raise. Surely, she told herself sleepily, Jeanne could mean her no harm. Slowly her eyelids dropped. Her sleeplessness had gone. Relaxed and at peace she turned over and was instantly asleep. She rose at dawn and Elen dressed her in her gown ofwachet green; she twited her heavy hair up beneath a simple veil, held in place by a woven fillet. It was too hot for a wimple or bar bette, or even a mantle, and she did not send for Jeanne. There had been no sign of the old woman. Rird was already in the bailey surrounded by men and horses and dogs. 'I hope you're coming hawking?' he called cheerfully when he saw her. 'The birds are ready.' The sky was limpid and clear. It was going to be another hot day. She forgot the fears of the night as she gathered up her skirts stein to her horse. They were no more to her thn some uneasy nightmare about which, though she having been frightened, she could recall no They rode out of Hay, away from the sweeping eu'pment of Beacon, which rose sharp as a knife agal,. the y, back the shallow Wye, this time turning north towards the grooms and austrinprecioushawks, Richard's chief falconer - some horsemen altogether - clattering after them along the track, and another dozen or so men on foot. In the di All at once from a bed of reeds nearby they put up a heron. pulled the hood from the bird on wrist and tossed her into the air. They reined their horses t and watched as the humped figure of the heron flew low and for the river, but it was too late. The hawk struck it within seconds. Excited, Matilda turned and called for a small but swift and deadly brown merlin. She 'I'H match you kill for kill.' She pulled on heavy gauntlet and reached down for the bird, feeling the talons as it settled itself, bells jingling, onto the her fist. She gripped the jesses and kicked her pony Gradually the path began to climb and after a while plunged ' woods which cloaked the southern side of Elfael. the trees cleared and the moors rose bare before them. waited as the beaters with their dogs scattered into the tall Richard's horse shined restlessly beneath him as he Matilda with a smile, soothing the glossy peregrine his wrist: "We should have some good sport up here. It's yet, and not too hot.' He reined uddenly as the beaters the hood from the Richard flew her and they waited, eyes nar the glare as she climbed high into the blue, tow above the quarry, ready for the deadly swoop. His eyes gleamed with excitement as the bird plummeted down. 'A kill,' he murmured exultantly under his breath. He urged his horse forward into the breast-high bracken, the winged lure dangling from his fingers. Matilda followed him, her eyes fixed on his broad shoulders and she breathed deeply and exultantly in the sharp air, almost laughing out loud as she kicked her pony on and felt the wind lifting her veil, teasing, trying to dislodge her hair. It was a good morning's sport. When they drew rein at midday the party was tired and hot. Sliding from his saddle Richard threw the rein to a groom and went to lie face down on the grass beside a tiny upland brook. He grinned up at her, shaking the water from his eyes. 'Come and bathe your face. It's gloriously cool.' Their attendants drew back into the shadow of a group of trees with the birds and Matilda, who had been watching as her horse was led away, dropped on her. knees beside him and let her fingers play for a moment in the water. The mountain stream was very cold and within minntesher hands were aching with it. He laughed at her. 'How improper! My Lady de Braose, paddling in the water likea child!' She laughed a little guiltily. 'I wish I could throw all my clothes off and jump in like a boy.' 'Please do, madam I should not object.' He grinned shamelessly. She could not be angry with him. 'God, Matilda,' he went on, suddenly serious. 'Would that you were not de Braose's wife.' His voice took on a .new note which frightened her. She glanced up apprehensively and found him gazing at her, the message in his eyes plain. 'Let's walk in the woods a little way away from this rabble which always follows us. I must talk to you freely. Alone.' 'lqo!' Her voice was firm, although her heart was beating fast. She wanted so mxch to throw caution,aside and do as he asked. 'No, not again, we mustn't. We mustn't as long as my husband lives.' She rose, brushing the loose grass from her kirtle. 'Please, don't ever speak of it again. Many things I would dare in this world, but I must not dishonour William again.' She turned towards the trees, biting her lips wishing he had not spoken, but he had scrambled He seized her hand. 'It is too late to speak ofdishonour, Matilda. You are mine your heart, and in your eyes when you look at me, and in I know it.' Careless of who might still be able to them he pulled her against him, seeking her mouth with own, caressing her shoulders gently as he pressed her She gave a little .shudder of longing. 'We must not,' she her lips against his. 'Such love will be cursed.' 'Rubbish.' His grip was more insistent now. He bent, and his arm behind her knees he scooped her offher feet. a little cry ofprotest, but he ignored it, carrying her the bank of the brook and wading across the gurgling to the shelter of some gorse bushes on the far side. he laid her on the ground. He reached for his belt and it, laying his sword aside, then he bent over her covering her face with kisses, his hands feeling for breasts .in the low neckline of her gown. She gasped with her arms encircling his neck, drawing him down her as she felt him fumbling with her long skirts. All was gone. She did not care who saw them as her swiftly, bringing her again and again to the giddy excitement. Once, as her back arched against him, hips moving with his, she opened her eyes, dazzled by the blue sky above them. For a moment she stiffened as moved- a shadow against the sun- then the :excitement within her claimed her whole attention she fell helplessly into the tide ofher passion. at last Richard raised his head he was smiling. 'So, yox are mine.' He dropped his head to nuzzle her She stroked his hair gently, still trembling. 'If I am .dis William will kill me,' she whispered. 'William iS in France. He'll not fred out,' he said, sitting up 'No one has noticed our departure. Ifthey-have, we'll 339 say we were scouting for cover later in the day. Come,' he stood up and held out his hand to help her rise. 'Let us go and eat, my lady. Love gives a man an appetite!' They walked slowly towards the clearing. By the trees Matilda halted, and beckoned the foodbaskets forward with an imperious wave of her bend, aware that many eyes had been watching them, and had probably missed nothin of their disappearance. Aware too that Richard was looking at her with eyes which made her shiver with desire. Only the slightly heightened colour in her cheeks betrayed her inner turmoil as she stood haughtily by as the cloth was laid on the ground. She glanced at Richard again. Outwardly at least he was calm now. He sat on a rocky outcrop of the bank, hisktunic unlaced at the throat, his hand held out carelessly for the wine his page brought him. Catching her eye suddenly he grinned again and raised the cup in half salute. 'To the afternoon's sport, my lady.' She turned away. abruptly, and watched as the anstringers settled their frames beneath the shade. The hawks huddled disconmlately on their perches, sleepy in the heat. Around them the grooms sprawled, shading their eyes from the fight that pierced the high branches of the Scots pines, chewing on their pasties. The air was heavy with the scent of pine needles and dry grass. The riders were upon them before anyone knew it. A party of a dozen or so, wearing the fight arm. of the Welsh, bows strung round their shoulders, their drawn blades glinting in the sun. Their leader drew to a halt before Matilda and Richrd, the hooves of his sturdy pony dancing only inches from the edge of the white cloth on the grass. He saluted and sheathed his sword with a grave smile. Behind them their startled attendants stood helpless, guarded by drawn swords. "Henpych 8,xell, arglwyddes. Yd oedd genmoch y &la da? Balch iawn yo dy tbogeu.' The man was swarthy. He had wavy hair and was dressed in glowing purple. 'Greetings lady; has your hunting been good?' he went on in flawless French. the sport of my mountains does me credit. I see your has been substantial.' He nodded in the direction of the which lay trussed for carrying beside one of the grooms. He eyed Matilda slowly, taking in the tall, slim figure with bronze hair beneath the veil. 'My Lady de Braose, ifI'm mistaken? I am Einion ap Einion Clud, Prince of Elfael.' bowed gravely in the saddle. 'I was told you were in May I ask when your husband is to join you His eyes, green as the sunlight in the moss below the Matilda coloured violently. This man had seen them. She knew it without a doubt. He had seen them make love. A quick glance at Richard showed her that he still sat, unarmed, in wine cup in hand, on his rock. The set of his lips and the dangerous gleam in his eyes were the only signs that he was angered by the interruption. 'It was good of you to ride to greet us, Prince Einiou,' she mid, keeping her voice steady with an iron effort of will. 'My husband is at present in service with the King. May I ask what you want ofhim? Perhaps a message could be sent.' Her face was haughty as she gazed at the man. The amusement in his face had gone. It was replaced by something hard and frightening. She refused to allow the suspicion of ten-or which gnawed suddenly at the back of her mind to show, as stubboruly she held his gaze. 'It is a matter ofa smail debt, mylady. The kin ofSeisyll of Gwent are unavenged. Do not think that the matter, of however little consequence, is forgotten.' His voice was level and light in spite of the irony in his words. 'Think about it, when you roam about my hills, and bid your men keep watch over their shoulders. I doubt if any of them would willingly lose a hand even ih the defence ofyour gracious person.' He bowed uin, mocking. She swallowed, clenching her fists to stop her hands from shaking. The moor was uncannily silent for a moment then, suddenly, close by, came the harsh grating call of a corncrake. Einion's horse threw up its head and whinnied. Instantly his mood seemed to change. He smiled a warm smile and raised his hand. 'Good hmting, my lady,' he murmured, inclining his head. 'I trust your sport is as rewarding this afternoon! ]arewell. Duo a to da it!' He threw back his head and laughed, then with a wave ofhis arm he call.ed his men to him and they turned as one and galloped up the hill in a cloud of dust and vanished over the skyline, leaving the moorlands empty. Richard sprang for his sword which had been resting only feet from his ha-rid against a rock. 'My God, I thought we were done for.' He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Td heard that he had succeeded his father. He's a firebrand, that young matt. Out for trouble. I doubt ff Rhys will keep him in cheok for long. He houours the blood feud, it seems,' 'The galanas they call it,' Matilda repeated softly. She gazed down into the swiftly rLnirg water for a moment. 'He saw us Richard. He saw us making love.' Richard glanced at her, his face grim. 'Come, I'll take you back. Mount up. We return to Hay. at once,' He flung imtruc tions over his shoulders at the frightened huddle of followers who waited beneath the trees. 'It appears hat you are not included in his partic-la-r feud,' he said quietly, eyeing her gravely as a groom ran up with their horses. 'I was there when Seisy11 died, but I knew nothing of William's plato,' she said wearily. 'A Welsh boy guided me over the hill to Tretower. He said they had no quarrel with me then, but...' She shivered. 'Richard, you heard what be said about the hands. It must have been his men who brought that dreadful burden to Gloucester.' He shrt/gged. 'As likely, one as another. They are all related, these Welsh princes. They all remember the blood fend when it suits them.' He helped her into the saddle, and then swung hi-mselfouto his own horse. 'But it's a warning. Peace there may be, officially, but never again should you venture into these hills without a flail escort. Remember that.' They rode swiftly and uneasily back across the moor through the bracken and the woods into the village of Clyro down across the low hill towards the ford, the lazy good gone. heat haze had again obscured the mountains and a , cloud mass was building up beyond the closer .Matilda rode into the outer ward of Hay Castle with relief. slid from her horse, ignoring Richard who had sprung to help her, and ran towards the children's lodging. thought had come to her as they rode home. The Willlam's children for Seisyll's. Would that be a fair was playing inthe dust with two com 'Is Wiil'all right?' It was many months since she had felt throat-constricting fear for her eldest son. my lady, why not?' The old woman looked up peaceful smile. Matilda gave a sigh of relief. She might be spared from the Gwladys, SeisylI's wife, had been spared. But two children had died and she knew the Welsh would scrupulous in their revenge. She heard Richard's quickstep behind her. 'What is it? Is : wrong?' 'Hothing.' She shook her head 'They're free.' She smiled --. 'A foolish mother's sudden fears, that is all.' She fell to Will close to her, feeling the softness of hair agaimt her mouth. The little boy wriggled free almost at once and staggered a away from her before sitting down and running the once more delightedly through his fingers. Matilda up smiling. Her smile faded as she noticed Jeanne's e#e on Richard. The old woman's face had con a passive mask and Matilda recognised suspicion eyes. Abruptly she remembered the strange of the night before. She had been inclined to dismiss morning as a dream. But it had not been a dream at It had been Jeanne. She sighed. If the magic the old 343 woman had woven was a spell to prevent her mistress feeling the pangs of love for this tall, handsome man, it hadn't worked, she thought sadly. For once, Jeanne my old friend, your magic is not strong enough to save me. She picked herself up wearily from the dust and, .shaking out her pale green skirts, she turned and walked towards her own lodgings, leaving Richard standing in the sun. Behind her she could hear a voice calling suddenly. She stopped and hesitated, wanting to turn, but she was afraid that if she looked at Richard he would follow her inside. The voice was insistent, Someone was r-mnlng er her. She felt a h-nd touch her shoulder and heard the soft lilt of a Welsh voice calling her... 'Are you all right? Come on there, wake up, my lovely. Come on.' The voice swam up again out of the shadows then receded. 'You'd best go and find a doctor, Alan.' Someone was bending over her. Jo opened her eyes slowly. She was lying on the shingle near the river With an exclsma lion of fright she sat up, her head sw/mmlng. The afternoon had gone. The sun was setting in a sea of golden cloud and two complete strangers were kneeling beside her at the river's edge. blank canvas beckoned. Judy was standing in front of it, a hunk of cheese, the structure of the painting floating head, ready to be trapped and laid on the naked back She had changed her position slightly, studying the of light, when something distraaed her and she turned of the studio, frowning. There was someone on the landing outside, their weight on the creaky 'Who is it?' she called. She put the last piece of cheese into fingers on the seat of her jeans. was no reply. Frowning, she moved towards the 'Is there someone there?' she said. She pulled it open, at the interruption. looking out of the high landing window sloping roof tops of the house backs. He turned slowly s word. 'Well? What the hell do you want?' Judy glared at him. 'I thought I would see if you had got back from France ' he said. He did not smile at her. 'A see, I did.' She put her hands on her hips. -' he came towards her suddenly. 'I'm sorry. I have left you like that. It was a lousy thing to do you had come out to join me. We'd had a good time.' i:'Until someone mentioned Joanna.' Judy stood by the holding it open as he walked past her into the studio. Nick shrugged. 'She's gone off somewhere. Is this going to new painting?' He was standing in front of the blank It's going to be a sculpture in bronze.' Her voice.was with sarcasm. 'So, Jo is missing and you decided to visit first reserve. Dear old unfussy Judy, always there to pat head and make a man of you again.' She was still standby the door. 'I'm sorry, Nick, but I'd like you to leave.' He walked back towards her. 'Can I have a drink first?' There was a new harshness in his voice as abruptly he pulled her hand from the door latch and hurled the door shut. 'A drink, Judy.' She took a step back in astonishment. 'All right! Steady. How much have you had already?' rblothing. I've been in the office all morning trying to sort mtt the balls-up Jim Greerson's made of our best account and around the studio '- is lunch.' 'Then I'll get you some food.' 'OK. A drink.' Judy was staring at him as she groped behind her in a cupboard and found a whisky bottle. 'I'll fetch sae giasses.' 'Do that.' Nick had not moved. He was looking at the blank canvas with the same intensity he would normally have given to a paint-in. His head ached and he knew he was tense and irritable, and that it had been a mistake to,come. He wam't sure why he had. His desire for Judy had gone and yet he had found himaelf bailing a taxi and giving her address automatically, compelled by a need to be with her which he could not define or understand. 'So what's wrong? Apart from the office, I mean?' Judy poured half an inch into the glass and handed it to him. He drank it quickly and held it out to her again. As she was pouring he caught her wrist, forcing her to slop the whisky until the glass was almost full. 'You cl-m idiot. Look what you've done!' she yelled. 'Shut up, Judy,' he said, bored. 'One tumblerful is the same as the sum of sll the prissy llttle dines you're going to give me one by one. 'I am not going to hand you little doses one by one. If you drink that lot on an empty stomach you'll be flat on your badd' 'Fine. With you in my arms?' 'lqol' She took the glass out of his hand and put it down with a bang on the table. 'Please leave now, Nick.' 'Oh, come on:' I 'I mean it.' Her eyes were cold with anger. 'Please get out of Go back to your office and sort out your problems there, my studio.' She pulled the door open and stood by it. 'I mean it!' For a moment he hesitated, then he picked up the whisky took a couple of gulps from it, put it down and strode her to the door. thought you wanted me back,' he said softly as he stood moment looking down at her. Nick,' she repeated stonily. shrugged, then, with a strangely grating laugh, he past her and out onto the landing. She slammed the door. For a moment she listened to the of his footsteps running down the long flights of stairs, back into the studio. yes, I want you back, Nick Franklyn,' she said to . 'But on my terms. Not yours.' Picking up his glass she began to pour the whisky carefully bottle. and Shirley Peters had motored up to the Welsh border 'We love this part of the country, see.' Shirley had a firm ) on Jo's arm. 'Mind the pebbles here, they're that uneven. ou feeling better now?' She had Jo's bag over her shoulder. On Jo's other side her taciturn husband was holding her elbow as though he afraid she would try and escape. gave me a real turn, it did, seeing you lying there near ' sherushed on. 'We saw you earlier from the bridge, "There's a mermaid, cast up on the strand," Alan said, you my lovely? And then when we came back two later you hadn't moved, so we thought, there's some wrong. You couldn't be asleep, you looked so uncom your head on the stones - and your eyes 346 347 were open. Quite normal they looked, but we couldn't make you hear. "She's epileptic, she is," Alan said, didn't you my lovely?' Jo smiled shakily as the woman paused for breath. 'I'm all .right, really. It's good of you to help me, but I can My car is up there, by the castle.' 'Car?' Shirley let out a shriek. 'You can't drive a car! It tmuldn't be safe! Where are you staying? We'll take. you +-]0 shrugged. 'I hadn't found anywhere. I thought I'd look hotel or something, but then I must have fallen asleep /ithe sun...' She was still confused, dazed by the suddem +"+-++" from past to present without the intermediary of ' Ik.n- net's gentle voice. Shakily she put her hand to her 'WeJI, there now, that's your problem solved then. We'll take you back with us to Margiad's house. That's where we stay, down by the church. Bed and breakfast she does, and she's a nice kind soul. She'll see you get to adoctor if you're poorly tomorrow, see?' Swept on in the tide of their concern Jo allowed herself to be fitted into the back of a small red Volkswagen and driven the few hundred yards to Margiad Gfiffiths' guest house. There, amid much fuss, she was shown a spotless tittle room with a mansard window overlooking the high common beyond the river and told to fie down whilst her landlady brought her a cup of tea. She lay back gratefully on the pink nylon sheets and gave a deep sigh. She was effihusted. She had been so tired and confused she had not even waited to see if Richard had seen where she went to - She sat up, feeling suddenly very sick. Richard de Clare did There was a knock on the door and Mrs Griffiths appeared carrying a .tray. She was a small, plump woman with pepper and salt hair and a soft pink complexion which complemented faded blue eyes. Once she must have been very pretty. 'They've gone' out again, you'll be glad to hear,' she said 'Talk the hind leg off a donkey, that Shirley would, no mistake. How are you, my dear?' She put the tray Jo forced herself to smile. 'I'm free - just very tired. I had strange dream by the river. It made me feel so odd -' her embarrassment she knew suddenly that she was near tears. Mrs Griffiths gave her a close look, then with innate tact turned away, delving into her pocket. 'I've some aspirin hall,' she 'Why don't you have a hot hath and pop into bed for a I can give you some supper later. Shirley said your car up by the castle. She said her Alan would fetch your if you liked.' Jo smiled. 'Would he really?' She stood up shakily and felt ieans for the car keys. 'It's a blue MG, by : War Memorial. I'd be so grateful -' Mrs Griths took the keys and dropped them into her 'I'll run downstairs and find you a spare nightdress for shall I?' And she was gone. sat back on the edge oF the bed and rubbed her eyes. lay back on the pillow. Her last thought as , drifted into sleep was of little Will. As he played in the din he had fallen on the ground and gr-d his someone cleaned them properly and on some antiseptic; the whole place was so fdthy... awoke next morning to the .smell of frying bacon. lay staring around her room, looking at the pink curtains blowing at the open window and the pink tulfamihar dressing table. Her mind was fuddled sleep. Slowly she pulled herself into a sitting position :yes. She was still fully dressed. Someone had a tartan blanket over her while she slept. Her bag and the door and she could see her on the dressing table. 349 It was all coming back to her. Sitting by the River Wye, looking up at the broken silhouette of the castle, she had somehow gone into a regression; on her own, and without wanting to, she had slipped back to the time of Mati|da and for two or three hours had lain on the white shingle in a trmce, oblivious of the world around her. She hugged her with a shiver, wishing suddenly that Nick was there. Th she put her head in her hands. Had she even forgotten That she could never see Hick again? She bit her lip, tohold back the tears. Nick and she were finished and Riehawas far away beyond her reach. She was alone. up shakily, she glanced at her watch. It was ten pa She went to the window and stared out at the low hills beyotut the trees. It was somewhere up there that she and Richard had ridden with their hawks. She found she was clenching her fists violently, suddenly overcome by .fear. Was it her need to see Richard that had made her regress alone and unprompted, or was it something else? Was Matilda beginning to take her ova? She took a deep breatl She had been mad to come tO Wales; mad to think she could handle this alone. She did need Carl Bennet's help. He had started all this off and somehow he had to help her to get free of it again. She had to go back to him had to persuade him to try again to make her forget, and as soon as possible. Margiad Griffiths was in the kitchen when Jo, showered and in a fresh dark blue cotton dress, went down. She turned from the cooker and smiled. 'Better, are you?' she said. 'I've just made some coffee, or would you prefer tea?' 'I'd love some coffee, please.' Jo sat down at the kitchen table. 'I didn't realise I was so tired. I am sorry, I've put you to a lot oftrouble.' from the dresser. 'The .Peters have gone, though. Sorry not to see you again, they were. They sent their best wishes.' 'I I could have thnired them. I still don't know quite what happened to me by the river yesterday.' 'Exhaustion, I expect.' Marglad poured the coffee. 'I :mually put .my guests at the tables in the sitting room, here, if you'd rather...' grimced. 'No, I'd rather stay here if I may. I expect all guests went out ages ago, it's so late.' Shrugging, Marglad passed her a bowl of sugar. 'I've only three rooms. The Peters had one, and there was a nice teacher in the other. Walking Offa's Dyke, he was, but stopped here for the books. Everyone comes to Hay for the Jo smiled. 'I was here doing some research into the history the town.' The coffee was strong and fragrant. She could seeping into her veins. 'OE, it's an old town. The castle's very ancient. That's Booth's now, ofconrse. Did you see it?' shrugged. 'I'm more interested at the moment in the old The first one. It was near the church.' 'Down here?' Margiad stared at her. 'Well now. I never Fancy there being another castle. You'll be off to Jo sighed regretfully. 'I can't today. I've got to go back to as Margiad put of eggs and bacon down on the table in front of her. 'I that was for me ' girl. Eat it up while I make you some toast. You do with some good solid food in you.' Margiad was her carefully while behind her the frying pan spur on the stove, 'Will you be coming back this way you f'mished all your research?' picked up the knife and fork. She cut into the top of the and watched the yolk flow across the plate. ' she said after a moment. 'I think it's a case of it haffmished with me.' towards the town took her past the site of the grass-covered and with wild flowers. There was no sign of the wooden or the bailey which she remembered, nor of the thick She stood and stared for a moment, half afraid that 350 351 something would happen, but there were no ghosts, no shadows, just a cheerful black and white collie who loped across the gra, cocked its leg against the wall, and disappeared into the trees near the church. It was market day and she stared in confion at the clustered colourful stalls which had appeared around her car overnight, wondering how ou earth she was going to move it. Catching the eye of the womb- selling farm produce from the stall beside the MG she shrugged and grinned apologetically. 'I'm sorry. I didn't realise it would be market day. I wasn't feeling well yesterday, so I le/t the car here.' The woman grinned back. 'So. It's not something you'll do again, is it?' she said cheerfully, and she turned away. Jo stuck out her tongue at the woman's back. She threw her cases into the car and climbed into the driving seat. It would take some careful maneuvering to extricate herself from the crowded, noisy square. Slowly, she wound down the window, and leaned forward to insert her key into the ignition. In front of her the castle walls rose high and grey aginsg the brilliant blue of the sky. When had it been built, she wondered idly as she turned on the engine. Would she ever know now? Her eyes traversed the high walls with the empty gaping spaces where the stone arches of the windows had fallen. In one ofthem a white dove was bobbing to and fro in the sunlight, its throat puffed into a snowy lace cravat as it cooed. Without knowing why she found herself staring at it with total concentration as behind her the noise of the msrket died away. She shivered. The silence was unny in the midst of so many people. Uncanny and suddenly frightening. William arrived unannounced one blustery autumn night. He appeared with his men and horses, exhausted, mud-splashed and wet with rain, before the gates of Hay, angrily demanding entrance to the castle. 'The ford will soon be too deep to crms,' he growled as hi.s wife came forward to greet him. 'By Christ's bones, I'm glad to umnd. It's not the weather for travelling.' He s cloak and flung the soaked 'How is the hunting, my lady? His ruddy were a shade more deeply lined, she thought, and his pronounced, but he looked as fit and well . ever. 'Will we kill tomorrow?' She laughed. 'So short a rest, my lord? Yes, the hunting's out of Elfael.' She scrutinised r the new Prince.' William threw back his head and laughed. 'Are they indeed? young nn and his territory.' He threw . boisterous arm round Matilda's shoulder, pulling her down plant a smacking kiss on her cheek. 'He splits my lands in does our Einion. If I held Elfael, I'd hold the middle m Abergavenny. But let be for now. King r wants peace with Rhys ap Gruffydd at present. I'm con' time. There are more amusing things to do in plan a mad campaign. Like hunting and bedding v beautiful wife.' He laughed again. He was te to his word. By Yule the larders were hung with and venison, and Matilda knew herself to be pregnant more. But it was not with William's child. Her monthly came back to her bed. Gritting her teeth in disgust and pain she allowed him to he would never suspect the That Jeanne had guessed she was certain, but the old an enigmatic silence on the subject of her lady's swelling belly. Of Richard she stubbornly not at all. Hews had come that he was , to Ireland, and after that nothing. Jeanne.watched over her now with increasingly jealous care t the time passel, fending off even the faithful Elen, who had apart, resentful and hurt, spitefully hinting that the old Matilda was sure ofit, and one day, bored indoors by the weather, she sought Jeanne out the walled herb garden. of your art, Jeanne,' she whispered, as she caught the old woman, muffled in a fur cloak, scraping snow into a bowl with a muttered incantation. Jeanne jumped guiltily, then she turned, a crafty smile on her lips. She had lost the last of her front teeth and it gave her an expression of cunning. Matilda caught her breath at the sight, but she steadied herselfand smiled, excited. 'I should like to know. Please tell me some spells.' Je--e's eyes shifted sideways 'I know no spells, Lady Matilda. 'Tis healing I practise, that's all, with herbs and prayers. Those I'll teach you gladly.' Matilda nodded. 'And I would gladly learn them, but the other thlnss, Jeanne -' she looked the old woman in the eye. 'What was it you whispered over my bed the night Lord Clare came to Hay?' Clutching her fists in her skirts she was suddenly afraid as she waited for the answer. Jeanne did not move for a moment, then slowly the hooded eyes fell to gaze at Matilda's stomach. 'My power was not trong enough to save you,' she murmured. 'Now it is too late. ' Event are already in train. I can do nothing/ Matilda shivered. 'There is nothing to do, Jeanne. My husband will never guess,' she whispered. 'We were discreet. We were never alone together again.' Jeanne shrugged. 'The truth has a way of finding daylight, map'te. One day Sir William will know One day Lord Clare must pay the price.' 'No!' Matilda clutched her arm. 'No, I don't believe you. How could William f'md out? No one knows. No one. You would not tell him -' Jeanne shook her head. 'Not me, ma p'te, nor the Prince of the Welsh who saw you in Lord Clare's arms-' She ignored the look of terror which crossed Matilda's face as she hobbledstiffly away from her, pulling her furs more closely around her. 'It is the child herself who will betray your secret. I have seen it inmy dreams. And all for nothing.' She turned uddenly, spitting with vehemence. 'Lord Clare is not for you, Matilda! You belong to another!' She spread her knotted hands expressively then she shook her head. attilda shuddered. 'I know,' she whispered, her voice , andlble above the sighing of the wind. Snowflakes were to drift down out of the sky, catching in the punted her lips over her toothless glm, 'you don't ma p,' she utid softly, 'and I pray that I have een and you never will. It is not your husband I have en.' husband?' Matilda echoed. 'Who then?' She ran clutching at her arm. 'What have you seen? Tell stopped. 'I saw a king,' she whispered, and she r over her shoulder. 'He is your destiny. And 'What do you mean?' Her mouth had with fear. 'You must tell me!' She almost shook the woman in her impatience. 'Tell rod' But Jeanne shook her finger to her lips. 'Perhaps, one day, ma ' was all she would say, and no matter how hard Matilda peak of the matter again. she did take her mistress to her still room, and there she s and flowers, salves and creator she t chest. There were also stones, and branches of tre from faraway lands, and scraps of parChment with strange symbols. Those Jeanne whisked out of '.beneath a napkin, and when Matilda went again to look had gone. She had to be content with the arts dowed her, the simple spell of words to induce sleep a fretful child, the way to comult the tan about the of the body, and how to prepare feverfew, and for when the labour pains came on her in the summer. alway she refitsed to speak more of what she had een in was sitting one evening, listening idly to the of a wandering rnlntrel who had floundered in out of when die saw Willi=m poring over some parchment on his forehead wrinkled with the effort of reading the close writing in the flickering light of the stroamiqg .candles. Outside the wind roared up the broad Wye valley, slamming against the walls, and rattling the loose wooden shutters. Once she thought she heard the howl of a wolf and she He looked up at her suddenly, grinning. 'A good haul, today, my dear, eh?" He rubbed his leg, stiff from the saddle, and stood up slowly, ornin tO stand cloe to her chair. .'There's some of the best hunting I know round here and I like the Hay. I'll be pleased when we have a more solid keep here, though. What do you say? Shall we pull it down and build in stone? That would make you feel safer, wouldn't it?' He looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow, then he reached for one of the parchments on the table. 'I've been working out the moneys with Madoc and Bernard. The tithes are good, but the area should be better defended.' He stabbed at the parch merit with a grimy finger. 'We're strategically placed here. I onld make better use of the position. The Welsh may be quiet at the moment, but one never knows when they're going to plan a surprbe attack. We could never h01d them off here for long, and we have been as goodas warned by your friend Eininn.' Herubbed his chin thoughtfully. An extra blast of wind whistled through the shutters and one of the candles blew out, scattering wax over the table. Wiili swore quietly as a page ran to the fire for a brand to relight it and he lowered his voice suddenly. 'There is plenty of labour and it would be a good jumping-off place should one ever have pla-n- to move into Elfael.' He looked at her and raised his eyebrow again. 'Well, womn, What do you say to idea?' 'It seems good. I won't deny I'd feel safer with stone keep ifwe must stay at Hay.' 'We'll return to Brecknock for a while, then back to supervise the building when I rejoin the spring. Give you somhing to do, eh, while to spawn that brat?' He laughed loudly and wine. so h was at Hay that Richard's daughter Matilda was on a cool, crystal clear, midsummer night, bright with have been borrowed from the frosts of eanne delivered the child, a flaxen-haired crap, then the offerings on the hearth. The baby was tiny - more like child than either of Matilda's lusty full-term and William accepted her as such without a word of himself as he caught sight of Jeanne mutter g protective spells above the cradle, hastily mining away to horses and his falcons. Alone again but for Jeanne, Matilda out her arms for the child and took her, staring down at delicate, perfect features. She had expected to feel an love for this child ofher love. She felt nothing at all. right?' woman from the produce stall had reached tentatively the car to shake Jo by the shoulder. clutched the steering wheel, her knucHes white. The car was idling quietly as the sun beat down through the her face. She rested her forehead on the rim for a moment, feeling suddenly sick and cold. you all right?' the woman repeated. 'You've been there for ages. I couldn't make you hear me ' with an effort. 'I think I must have asleep ' woman looked sceptical. 'You were staring up at the as if you were in a trance.' deep breath Jo forced herself to laugh. 'Maybe I at that. I'm sorry, and I'm parked in your way, too. If you help to see me out -' i'Yon're sure you're all right?' The woman did not look she straightened and stepped back from the car. sure,' Jo said firmly. 'Quite, quite sure.' Thursday was the third time she had been up to London t under a month, Dorothy Frauldyn reallsed suddenly. She ' 'ed. Nick ordered sandwiches and coffee for them both in his office. 'I'm sorry, Ma, but as you see I'm up to my eyes here today... I'll get you a slap-up lunch next time you come up to town, I promise.' He smiled at her fondly. 'Now, what can I do for you? Your call sounded urgent., He had been looking at her with some concern since Jane had shown her up to his office. Her face was drawn and she seemed suddenly old and frail as she drew off her gloves. She sat down on the low sofa which stood against one wall of the room beneath a colourful display of some of FranklynGreerson's artwork. 'I want to talk to you about Sam,' she said without preamble. Nick closed the office door carefully and leaned against it. 'What about Sam?' he asked. 'How do you think he is?' 'Fine. Sam has never been ill in his life as you well know.' 'I don't mean physically, Nick.' She fiddled with the clasp of her handbag. 'Then what do you mean exactly?' Eyebrows raised, Nick sat down beside her and reached for one ofherhands. 'What is this all about?' She sighed. 'I had a long talk with Sam the other day about Jo and he said some very strange things. I can't get them out of my mind.' Nick's jaw tightened imperceptibly. 'Jo has been doing some very strange things.' His mother's fingers closed around his and she squeezed his hand. She looked up at him. 'Nick, you do know that Sam is very fond of Jo, don't you?' 'Of course he is. He's known her for years.' Nick leaned forward and helped him*.elfto .a smoked salmon sandwich. She frowned. 'I think it's a little more thn that,' she said cautiously. 'You don't mean you think he's in love with her?' She saw the quick flash of anger in Nick's face, nlmost instantly 'No,' she said hastily. 'But I think he's become too involved in this business of her past life. He said such weird things to it - I just think you and Jo should discourage him discussing it with her any more. In fact I think it would much better ff you could persuade him to go back to and forget about the whole thing. Get him right ' from her.' Nick looked at his mother suspiciously. 'You really are aren't you,' he said after a thoughtful pause. 'And not like you to interfere. What are you trying to say to me?' 'I'm not trying to say anything,' she retorted sharply. 'I said it. Now., tell me, have you and Jo made it up yet?' 'No.' She sighed. 'Oh, Nick!' Her voice was wistful. 'Then per it doesn't matter aider aft.' Picking up a sandwich she of it. 'I love you and Sam so much, I've come too. I don't wt any ofyou to get hurt, that's all.' Nick stood up abruptly. Turning his back on her he strode the window and stared Ont. 'No one is going to get he said. 'I wish I could believe that,' she replied sottly. She was her younger son with an expression of enormous If only she could tell him what it was she really but with Nick's temper she didn't dare. She put down sandwich and reached for her coffee. 'Promise me some' she said carefidly. 'If Sam should suggest that you ever hypnotised like Jo, I want you to refuse.' He turned. 'Why?' 'I have a good reason for asking, Nick. You must never let hypnotise you.' 'Too late. He already has.' He grinned wryly. 'A little goodwill - and it dldn't hurt a bit.' Dorothy stooi up in agitation. Trying to cover it, she and picked up Nick's cup, carrying it to him as he 'When did he do it?' she whispered. 'To he exact? The day before yesterday.' He took her coffee 'What is this really about, Ma? What are you afraid She shook her head and smiled. 'Nothing. Just a superstitious fear of the unknown I suppose. But I never thought you would do it. You used to be afraid even of falling asleep when you were a little boy -' 'It wasn't like falling asleep. I remember every word he said -' He hesitated. 'At least, I think I do -' Her eyes shot upto meet his. 'Oh, Nick -' 'It's OK. There's nothing to worry about. Sam knows what he's doing.' She turned away. 'That is what I'm afraid of,' she said, so quietly he did not hear her. Absent-mindedly she picked up her sandwich again and stood staring at the wall on which hung a steel-framed silhouette of two children playing ball. It was several minutes before she could bring herself to speak again. 'And did he find out who you were in Matilda's past,' she asked at last, 'or did he say you were not there at all?' She turned back slowly to look at his face. 'Well Nick? What did he let you remember?' 22 Jo did not want to stop. She wanted to drive on. She wanted to get as far away as possible from the Welsh Marches where the norne of every town and village seemed to beckon her back into the past. She was afraid that ff she stopped it would happen again. The past was still there, floating on the edge of her consciousness; and with it the shadow of Matilda's fear. Driving blindly southwards, bypassing Abgr. gavenny, she realised suddenly she must have taken a different road to the one she intended and she pulled up at last, grabbing her road map, trying to force herself to concentrate on the network of roads on the page in front of her, tracing a route back towards her forefinger as the sun blazed down on the car. She stopped for a late lunch in the end at Monmouth, drawing the car into the side of the road, too tired to drive further without a break. The garden outside the pub was cool and shady, and she found herself relaxing as she ate a fresh crusty roll and a plate of Stilton salad, and sipped a glass of cider. Her panic was retreating. She had come, after all, to find Matilda. What had happened by the Wye and outside Hay Castle was no more than she had hoped might happen at Bramber or as she ran her hands across the ancient walls at Clare. Somehow she had triggered off some sort of trance and the place had done the rest. So, why had she been afraid? She leaned back in her chair, staring with half-closed eyes up at the underside of the striped -umbrella that shaded her table. What she ought to do was face this strange talent she had found within herself and bend it to her will; summon it once more and with it discover whether Matilda had lieeded Jeanne's warning. Slowly she stood up and stretched cat-like in the sun. Had ever come to Monmouth, she wondered? And if so, did she have the courage deliberately to try and find out? Undecided, she waLked slowly out of the garden and into road. She glanced with distaste at her car parked at the kerbside; the thought of another four hours in the sweltering heat did not appeal to her, so she turned her back on it and walked on. The sun was now shrouded in haze,.but it was still very hot as she followed a footpath between some old stone-built houses and made her way down to the Usk, where het down on a crumbling wall and watched a small lizard kitter over some dry moss and disappear into a crack.in the tone. Kicking offher shoes she dabbled her feet in the icy water. A few minutes' rest was what she needed. Then she would lecide whether to move on or wait to try and summon hack the past. The water was sucking at the moss-covered stones on the old bridge, combing tresses of brown weed into the sttxming torrent. How and then a stray limmer of sunslie would escape the haze ,and turn the oily smooth surface into a sparlding pool which would himmer and move and sfide back into the brown oneness of the river. Suddenly she found she was clutching her hands together, trying to force herself to look away as she felt a strange shimmer of unreality flicker before her eyes. She blinked and the 2ene steadied, then once again it seemed to move. She pulled her feet out of the river and made as if to scramble up the bank. 'No,' she whispered. 'No. I didn't mean it. Not yet. I'm not ready. I don't want it to happen again yet...' l'he nausea had returned. Wearily Matilda rested her head tgainst the pillow and waited for it to pass. Gently Elen placed a cloth ag-inst her forehead after wringing it out in the pitcher of ice-cold water. The girl's fingers were blue but she ncomp|ainingiy dipped the cloth in again, soothing her mis ress's fevered trembling with gentle hands. 'You'll not be able to leave Monmouth today, my lady. You must tell Sir William.' She ran for the basin as Matilda began Io retch again. 'No!' Pushing the bowl away Matilda struggled to her feet. I will go with Sir William. I have a feeling, a strange feeling ihere.' She pressed her hand to her stomach. 'There is danger Elen. I'm sure I'm needed at Hay. We should not allowed them to travel on with the household without 'But, my lady, you're ill.' Elen's eyes were soft with 'I am not ill; Matilda snapped at her. 'I told you. I am with 'But you never have morning sickness, madam. Never in all years I've known you :..' She stopped abruptly at the of Matilda's face. 'Well, I have now, so be quiet about it.' Matilda forced to climb out of the bed and reached for her gown. wrong, Elen. I can't explain it, but I have the i feeling something awful is going to happen, and my feelings are always right. I must be with the children. I must -' It had happened again the night before as she lay half in the firelight. A shadow hovering near her; some she could not grasp or see. 'There's death here Elen,' the whispered. 'Death near us.' She doubled up again and her eyes enormous with fear, ran to hold her and for a the two women clung together. Then, slowly, straightened up, pushing tendrils of hair back from damp forehead. The realisation that she was again pregnant had come as a bitter disappointment to Matilda. It was two years since she had given birth to her third son Reginald and she had dared to , that God was sparing her the burden of further children. Not realising that this pregnancy would make her tired and within a few weeks she had reluctantly agreed, while they at Gloucester, to allow the children and their nurses and to go with the main haggage train to Hereford and the newly built castle of Hay, on its hill above the site near St Mary's, while she accompanied William on a tour of his castles in Gwent; and she had braced herself to visit once again, should he require it, although he had as yet made no mention of going there. 363 It was seven years since that terrible night, but she was certain that he too remembered it sometimes, with horror, in hi dreams. And ever since they had waved the children away, she had been afraid. She pictured them. There was Will, tall and thin, riding very upright behind a groom, his delicate features solemn beneath the unruly mouse-coloured hair; Giles, so different from his brother, confident, with shiny copper-coloured hair, immaculately combed, and brighter by far than her own. Then came Matilda, a delicate silvery waft of a child, strangely eserved, giving no love and expecting none in return, and last little Reginald, a sturdy two-year-old, fair like hi ser, but as different from her as from the other two boy. They had all turned and waved back at her and shouted as the long procession of horsemen and waggous lumbered into motion. With them rode lqell. Poor Nell. Mar tied and widowed within a few months, she had returned broken-hearted m Matilda, and, grateful to have been put in charge of the nurseries now that old Jeanne was at last dead, ruled them with a gentle, eager love which had won the affection of nurses and boys alike. With the little girl she had no more succe than statilda. Matilda had watched them ride off into the forest together until they ware out of sight, then had turned sadly away. lqow, painfully, she began to dress, easing her aching limbs into the shift Elen held ready for her, then her gown and tunic. I.atst of all she held out her arms for her thick fur-lined clink. The clamp aurnmn winds had been cutting through to the bone as they hurled leaves, rain-sodden and brown, across their horses' paths on the long rides between castles. She shivered at the thought of it. But on the whole she was glad that Willi-am had decided they should winter in Hay this year. Hay was hers. In spite of everything Bramber still belonged to the ghosts of Bertha and old Sir William. And at Hay she would never meet the King. She had pondered often on old Jeanne's prophecy, picturing again the harsh face of King Henry. He held every man's destiny in his band, but why hers especially? She shivered - she had made the sign against evil again and again in recent months,, sometime feeling the huge eyes of little Matilda freed on her face. 'I still think you should tell Sir Williamou're not well, my lady.' Elen's chin was bennlng to stick out in the way Matilda knew so well. 'At least order a litter to carry you in 'No.' Matilda rounded on her. 'Be quiet, Elen. I will not have the litter. And I will not have Sir William told yet. I feel better as soon as I'm riding. Send for some hot broth for now, before I go down.' Elen signalled to the plump serving maid who had been luatting on her heels before the blazing fire and the girl Elen snorted. 'There's a lazy wench. She lili a finger ff she didn't have to. I'll be bound she aends someone else up with it,' and she began to busy herself packing away the last of the clothes and strapping the small coffer which stood at the end of the bed. Sure enough, when the broth arrived, it was not carried by the same girl. Elen went to meet the woma-n who held it. 'I'll give it to my lady. YOU can go.' The worns, handed it over without a word. She seemed about to turn, then she hesitated, her eyes going to the tall huddled in the heavy mantle by the end of the bed. 'Arglwyddes! My lady!' The woman's voice was low and 'I said you can go.' Elen turned, her eyes flashing. 'My lady does not want to be disturbed. Leave her in peace.' The other womn half raised her hand as though waving aside. To the girl's indignation she took a step nearer. silent, bach. I must talk with Lady Matilda. I must.' She troubled. Matilda swung round suddenly, letting her cloak fall her. 'Who's that?' She peered at the woman, her heart hammering in her chest at the sound of a voice stirred a chord in her memory. 'What do you want?' As 365 the woman looked up at her at last she recognlsed her with a violent .use of shock. ,Megan,' she whispered. 'Is it you?' 'So you remember me, my lady?' Megan stood for a moment, her hands clasped in front of her, looking steadily at Matilda's face. Matilda looked down at the carpet of rushes, gently rustling in the draught. 'I tried to forget, Megan. I tried to forget everyghlng that happened at Abergavenny. Even you.' Megan nodded. 'I knew you would.' 'What is it?' Elen suddenly stepped forward. 'What is it, my lady? Who is this.., thi person?' She looked Megan up and down haughiily. 'This person, car/ad, has come to have words with your mistress.' Megan turned on her sharply. 'How you,. girl, go -about your business. Put the broth down before you spill it. Oy a Dural' She shook her hands in agitation as Elen slopped the broth on the rushes, qqow go, I mid. And you too, boy.' She turned to the page who had come in behind her and leaned aginRt the wall watching the proceedings with interest while he chewed a straw. / Matilda an eyebrow. 'Elen is my friend, Megan. Only I tell her to go.' 'Well then, tell her, my lady, now and quickly. If she's o high and mighty, why's she waiting on you then? She should Matilda hid a smile. The two Wehhwomen were alike in height and build, although Elen's hair was fiery and Megan's white beneath her veil. They were eyeing each other like two 'Do as she says please, Elen.' She spoke firmly. Tll take my broth while Megan is with me:' She held out her hand for the bowl. Elen cast a furious glance at her rival then, probing the now hW-empty bowl of soup into her mktress's hands, she turned and flounced out. Once she had gone, Megan seemed to lose her confidence once more. She stood, her eyes on the floor, twhting her fingers nervously together as Matilda sank thankfully into her chair and picked up the carved bone spoon. The room was ,ilent for a while as she drank. Then at last, stifling the nausea had returned as soon as the soup was finished, she up and forced a smile. 'I'm glad to see you again, Megan.' 'Well, that's as may be.' The older woman stood erea the fire. Then suddenly she seemed to make up her peak. She went to crouch beside Matilda's chair, her voice lowered. 'I've come to tell you not to go to Abergavenny again, my I can be saying about it. Don't go there.' Matilda shivered. 'I don't want to, Megan, believe me. But husband says we must...' " To her mement Megan rose and turned away to spit ifito the hot embers. 'If your husband says he must, Lady Matilda, well and Let him go. But not you.' 'Why, Megan?' Matilda glanced sideways at her, suddenly as the other woman's pleasant, round face became 'and defiant. 'Maybe I know a good reason, maybe I don't,' she Just remember I'm telling you. Now I must away to my people before they f'md I'm gone.' She rose to but Matilda was too quick for her. Forgetting her sickshe jumped up and grabbed Megan's wrist. 'I forbid you to go yet. Tell me what you know.' glanced half fearfully over her shoulder. 'Indeed I for I shall say nothing, my lady. I've already said to I should not have come to you indeed.' She wrenched arm free of Matilda's grasp and fled through the door, her pattering down the broad stairs. Matilda moved to follow her, then she stopped and went to her chair with a shrug. If the woxttan refused to say there was no more to be done. She stood for a thinking. Megan had braved a great deal perhaps to and warn her, for the sake of their day of friendship so 366 367 many years before. She put her hand to her aching back and then bent to pick up her fallen cloak from the rushes and warily wrapped it round her. William had to be warned of course. She picked up the silver hndbell by her chair and rang it for Elen. He must be told without delay. She breathed a fervent prayer that Megan, if she still wanted to guard her silence, had already left the castle. She didn't like to think of Megan, however stubborn, being subjected to the full brunt of Wi-]irn'$ anger in one of the dungeons below the keep if she refused to tell bm the source of her information. Willlam'$ men, however, when they fanned out in their exhaustive search of the castle, found no trace of Megan, nor had anyone been able to t-hk how she had come to be there. She was not known by anyone at Monmouth, nor had anyone seen her come or go, save the trembling girl who had wi!!igiy given up to her the chore of carrying up the hot soup. 'I've already sent messengen to Abergavenny,' William announced, stamping into Matilda's chamber an hour later. 'You and I will ride on as far as Dingestow to see how Ranulf Peer fares with the rebuilding of the fabric of the castle there. It may be that I shall wait there with him till the building season is over. You can ride on to Hay.' He rubbed his hands ruefully. 'Winter is coming early hi year. There won't be many more weeks before the snows arrive if it goes on like this. What alls you, Moll?' He suddenly rounded on her irritably. 'Has this wretched woman upset you?' He seemed to have noticed for the first time her pinched pale face and stooping back. She forced a smile. 'No, William, it's not that. I'm afraid I'm breeding again. I'm feeling sick with it, that's all.' He looked relieved. Not wanting to believe that Megan's warning might have any substance himse, he had resented the thought that Matilda might be frightened by it. 'The ride'll soon perk you upl I was afraid for a moment you were ill,' he said gnLqly and he rested his hand awkwardly for a moment, on her shoulder. From time to time there were momenl almost of tenderness between them now. 'It'll be good to have another baby to keep you occupied, eh?' He gave a gruff laugh. 'How, the horses are waiting. This business with the Weishwoman has delayed us long enough. Let's ride.' He swung on his heel and slowly, clutching her cloak around her, she followed him down the stairs. The extensive alterations on the remains of the old castle of Dingestow were nearly completed. As they rode along the newly cleared track towards it at the head of their troop of horsemen Matilda saw the low curtain walls swarming with men. Obviously Peer was trying to t'mish the outer defences before the weather put a stop.to the season's building. A thin film of ice turned the moat a milky blue beneath the frosted sky as they clattered across the bridge which was still supported by a framework of scaffolding. Rant/if Peer was seated by a blazing fire in the echoing keep, the plans for the castle spread before him on the table. He pulled himself painfully to his feet at their approach, his foxlike features sharper and more prominent than ever, his hair snow white. He greeted them distantly, his mind obvionsly still halfou the plans before him. 'We haven't long to finish the walls,' he commented, showing William the outline on one of the pieces of parchment. 'The Welsh are restless. I don't like it. We've had reports that trouble is coming. I'll be glad to have your men here while we finish. I can spare very few of mine for guard duty.' He glanced almost distastefiflly at Matilda. 'Is your wife staying here?' , 'Thank you, no,' she replied, stiffly, conscious of all her old dislike for the man flooding back. 'I plan to travel on to Tretower, if you can spare me an escort.' She tried to keep the edge of sarcasm out of her voice. It was wasted on Peer 'Spare her the minimum, de Braose. We need those men He stabbed the table once more with his finger, before .on his heel. 'I can smell trouble, and I want to be 'It seems he's worried, too.' William threw down his riding gloves aer Poer had stamped out, and held his hands to the fire, glancing round at the bare stone walls and the piles of unshaped stones still lying in heaps in the far comer below the dais. 'You'd be best out ofhere, Moll. It'll not be comfortable anyway. Make your way as quickly as you can out of Gwent and. into Brycheiniog.' He thought for a moment, . scratching his head. 'I think you must give up your idea of going to Tretower. It takes you too close to Abergavenny, just in case that woman spoke the truth. Ride the direct route through the mountnin. from Llantilio to Llanthony. The good fathers will give you shelter for the night. From there to the Hay should be only a day's ride, even in this weather.' He glanced over his shoulder. 'Poet always was as nervous as a cat in these mountains. He doesn't believe Rhys can keep the peace in Gwent as he does in the rest of south Wales. Personally I think he still does. Just.' Matilda shivered. She had a strong suspicion that Poer was correct in his doubts, but she kept her fear toerself. William seemed confident, and her concern was to reach her children as fast as she could. If he became too worried, he might begrudge her even the small escort he had promi.u:d and insist she remain with him. They spent the night, fully dressed, huddled on straw pallets around the fire and Matilda left Dingestow the next morning at first light, The wind had changed as night drove in from the western hills and with it came a.wet windy warmth which loosed the ice in the hard earth and turned the winding tracks to running mud. With Matilda went Elen and her two women, Gwenny and Nan, and an escort of twelve men-at-arms. She rcle fast, forgetful ened by the brooding deserted country as their horses' hooves splashed through the shallow puddles on the hill trach and through the deeper mud of the still, shadowy ,oods. In her girdle she carried a knife and, as they cantered on, she loosed it nervously in its sheath. They paused early at the square-built tower of Llantilio, its commanding position on the top of the hill and, of her eagerne to go on, Matilda reluctantly agreed they spend the night there. She hardly dept. The sick had but her mind was in a turmoil of fear and and at first fight they rode on. They followed the old road north to where it plunged the mountaim and followed the river Houddu up the of Ewias towards Llanthouy Abbey, the horses slipping in the heavy rain. At midday the rain stopped last and Matilda pushed the horse as fast as she dared e threatening sky. They passed the little church of Cwmyoy, the track leading to it marked by one of the stone croe which signpoeted pilgrlm' way through the mountains. Out of habit I in her horse as so often she did when William there. Ttien she remembered and, contenting herself prayer as the3/walked past, she spurred her hore again. The heavy clouds threatened more rain, the rind across the mountains impissable. before her was the image of her children alone their attendants at Hay, with only a small garrison to them and the gates trmtingly open so that the come and go. Once Elen begged her to stop, ifnot for her own utke, then ftheir sweating horses and for Gwenny, who was :with the pain of a stitch in her side, but she ignored drifting cloud olcured theatill, silent moun side of the River Houddu. Even the buzzards had the valley. The moaning of the wind in the tree was only sound save the craig of the leather and the occa ucking squelch bf.a horse's hoof coming out of the She gnced over her shoulder and saw that the men her had drawn their swords. The sight gave her very It was early dusk when the exhausted horses filed into the orchards which lay in the deep valley south of' Priory. There were signs of much activity and 371 afilding. Llanthony, so long nearly deserted during the early ears, lying as it did so close to the border, had received ubstantial grants for its rebuilding from old Hugh de Lacy, he Lord of Ewins, and already a magnificent central tower nd the presbytery had risen nearly to theirfull height in nests fwooden scaffolding. Marl-ida breathed a sigh of relief as she sfipped from her mrse. Here at least, amid the orchards, gardens and vinerds, they-were safe and might pass the night in the canons' ,atest house without fear of attack. 'So, Elen, we are halfway home. I'm sorry I made you all hie so fast. I had no feeling of being watched, yet I was afraid, mt there, on theroad.' Elen snorted. 'You afraid, my lady!. And how is your sick tess now, may I ask? Quite better, I'll be bound, while we're 1 as exhausted as kittens.' She gestured towards the two vilting women who had dismounted behind them. Matilda smiled. 'Poor Elen. Perhaps my illness was all in ny head. Perhaps I'm not even with child.' She pressed her mud hopefully to her stomach. ' 'Indeed I think you are, maclum' Elen smiled grimly. 'But t'll be a miracle if you don't lose it, riding like that.' She lounced indignantly ahead of her mistress into the newly atilt guest house. With fire, and fight, and succulent meat from the pror's titchens washed down wi.'th raw wine from the vineyards doug the Houddu, Matilda felt better. 'Only a few hours' ride till we reach the children,' she ..rniled at Gwenny who was helping her off with her gown. It m the first time she had undressed for three- days. Gwny nodded shyly. 'They're safe enough, maOm. Jstress Nell would never let anything happen to them.' 'Could Mistress Nell do anything against an army?' /[atilda replied more sharply than she meant. She repented as e saw Gqs'enny's chin tremble. 'Oh, I'm sorry, Gwenny. I mow I could probably do no more than she could, but we are ringing twelve more men with us.' She sat down heavily on i the bed and took her brush from Gwenny's hand. 'You go and i: sleep. Tell Nan ad Elen to as well.' She looked around the tiny cell-like room, so unlike the great chambers she was used to. 'But you'll hear me if I call, from next door. Go ou girl, get rome sleep.' She sighed as the door closed and she was lelt alone. Per tonight she too would be able to sleep, lulled by the mfety and ser-oxity of the great priory, soothed and protected the chanting of the monks in the choir of their beautiful She had only just dozed off, or so it seemed, when she was awakened by a furious knocking on the guest house door. It took a moment to remember where she was, then she was out of bed groping in the dark for her fur-lined bedgown, trying to find the latch of the door to her room in the impenetrable blackness. She cursed herself for blowing out the light before she went to sleep. She ached with exhaustion. The main door had been opened by one of her young men-at-arms, his eyes still bleary with sleep, his fingers to buckle on his sword belt as he dragged the heavy oak back and let in the cold night air. It was the prior hirnaelf who hurried in, followed by two of his black-robed canons. His pale face was drawn and anxious. 'Forgive me waking you so early, my lady.' He motioned the man to shut the door as one of the canons put a lanthorn on the table and filled the dark room with leaping shadows. The man-at-arms went to the fire and, kicking offthe turves on the !mbers, squatted down to feed it dried apple twigs from the basket near it. Soon it was blazing up. The prior sat down on the stool by the table, his white hands twisting 'I had just come from celebrating prime a messenger arrived.' He gulped nervously. 'He had over the hills from Abergaveuny, my lady. The has fallen. As far as is known no one has escaped.' Matilda felt Elen's steadying arm round her as she gazed ld man's face. She was conscious of Gwenny behind her. 'Your husband, madam,' the prior's voice was gentle, 'was he at the castle?' She shook her head numbly. 'He's at Dingestow, Father Prior. We were warned not to go to Abergavenny, and messengers were sent to the garrison there.' She shook her head, anguished. 'They should have been prepared.' 'No messenger can have reached them.' The prior made a wry face. 'The boy who came to warn us said the Welsh hid in the underbrush which has overgrown the moat. They surprised them yesterday at dawn.' He crossed himself. 'The castle is burned. Apparently a Welshman spoke to the constable the night before and actually taunted him that they were going to take the castle and for a while the garrison took the threat seriously and waited up. Then they gave up and went to bed. I can't believe it, but they did] How can they have been so foolish?' He wrung his hands. 'They left the usual minimum guard on the battlements of course but... The Welah put up their scaling ladders and went straight in over the wails. The constable and his wife ace captured with many others. A lot ofmen died. No one escaw.d. I can't think how it happened. When the Welsh themselves warned them.' He sat there, shaking his head in distress, his narrow, lined facea picture of grief. 'Has someone sent messengers to Sir William? He must be warned in case they go on to find him at Dingestow.' Anguished, Matilda was standing in front of the old man, not noticing how her bedgown had fallen open to reveal her full breasts, half-swathed in her long copper hair. The prior, swallowing, averted his eyes. 'I will send my fastest horses, my lady.' He fingered the hehvy silver cross which liung from a chain round his neck. 'I feel sure he will haveheard at once though. Dingestow is no more than a few miles from Abergavenny, but I will send, if you wish it.' 'Please do, Father, he must be warned.' Matilda shivered. 'Is it known who led this raid?' !/ 'The sons of Seisyll of Gwent, Lady Matilda. Two died at mr husband's orders, but others lived and they're grown men now. They have waited a long time to avenge their We in Ewias and Gwent have heard often of vows for revenge in spite of Lord Rhys's orders that is all important. They only waited for their manhood then- for de Braose.' He shrugged and again Matilda felt a shiver run across h shoulders. , When the prior had gone she paced up and down, her voualy chewing her thumbnail. Then suddenly she made up 'Dress,' she ordered Elen and the two women. 'See that the horses are at the door at once,' she flung at the guard. ride m Hay, now. The Welsh could have attacked it already. They could be on the way there now. Don't wait for food, we must go.' She fled into her little room and began to pull on her clothes, bundling up her hair with pins inside the hood of her her f'mgers in her haste on the brooch at its Honddu valley still lay in darkness, and the morning light touched only the tops of the western slopes of the the long climb through the wooded valley towards the bleak, silent moors, past tiny chapel on the border and so into Brycheiniog and up the high pass between the mountains. Their horses still tired from the previous day's ride but Matilda pushed them on, her eyes fixed on the gap in the ahead. Once there, they paused for a moment to the countryside around them, bathed now in the warm of a watery dawn sun. Nothing moved in the bracken grass. Even birds and sheep seemed m have deserted the road. They pushed their gasping horses to a heavy hand in the thick mud and began the long slow descent from hills. As the exhausted party trekked the last mile into Hay the disappeared and rain began once more to fall, a steady downpour which shut off the mountains and the and blinded the riders, soaking into their clothes and 375 str--ming from the horses' manes. The town of Hay seemed deserted, only the flattened puffs of smoke escaping from the streamlining cottage roofs showing where the women were sheltering inside their dwellings. The castle was quiet. The guards on the main gate in the curtain wall stood tO attention as their lady walked her staining horse into the outer bailey and drew to a halt. All was well. There had been no attack. She breathed a silent prayer that it had been the same at Dingestow. 23 The shadow on the bridge had moved. Jo stared at it, puzzled, then she looked around her. The riverside was deserted; the backs of the houses which overlooked it had changed subtly - grey stone relieved here and there by boxes of geraniums and trailing Iobelia now deeply textured by brilliant sunlight. The heat haze had dissipated, leaving the air quite clear. She moved cautiously, and winced. Her foot had gone to leep. Bending to rub it gently she found her feet were - her shoes lying several feet away on the shingle at the edge of the river. She glanced at her watch then,-horrified, ere for an hour. Slowly she stood up and hobbled painfuily over the stones reach her shoes. She remembered nothing from the she had kicked them off to cool her feet in the swift brown water. Had she dozed off as she sat on the or had she once more gone back into the past? Her mind complete blank. Dazed she made her way hack up the lane towards her car; somewhere at the back of her memory trying to get but a memory of what? Had an episode of Matilda's life . wall, inst as it had at '- but if so, why could she not remember it? She felt a deep down inside her as she unlocked the Why should Matilda want to hide her now?Biting her llp she sat for a while, deep in but nothing came; nothing but a vague feeling of for her in her flat. Exhausted alter the long drive, she dropped her bag on the the doorway and then stared round. The first thing noticed, through the open door of the living room, was the of Scotch standing on the coffee table. The carpet below had been cleaned. She took a cautious step towards the inner 377 doorway and looked in. Nick was lying on the sofa, his arm across his eyes. He looked as ifhe were asleep. Dismayed, she stared at him. 'What are you doing here?' she asked from the doorway. Her stomach gave a small lurch of panic. 'I was waiting for you.' He moved his arm slowly, blinking as she switched on the light. The curtalnR were half closed against the even- ing sun. 'Why? We've nothing more to say to each other, Nick. Nothing. And I'd rather you didn't let yourself in like t-hi. She fought to keep her voice steady. 'I want my key hack. I don't want to see you any more - can't you understand thaO' The door behind her was still open and she stood near it, poised to run as Nick slowly sat up, his face l,gard. She glanced from him tO the glass on the table and hack.'Are you drunlO' 'I've never been more sober.' He reched for the glaas and stared into it thoughtfully. 'I actually cme here because I wanted to be alone for a while. To think. We finally lost the Desco contract this afternoon., He climbed to his feet and stared at hlmelf in the mirror for a few seconds before turning to look at her. 'Where have you been?' 'Away.' 'And you don't intend to tell me where, I suplx,' he said wearily. 'That's right, I don't. I'm surprised you had the nerve to come hack here, Nick. If you want to be alone, throw Sam out of your own place - don't think you can use mine.' 'You missed your appointment, Jo.' His eyes narrowed. 'You were supposed to see Bennet yesterday and you didn't turn up.' 'i'll ring him and apologise.' She felt a quick flash ofanger. 'I'm sorry I've interrupted your solitude, but now that I'm hack you have no remon to stay, have you?' She took a step into the room so that they were facing each other acro, the coffee table. 'I think I have. There re things we have to discuss. 'I should Nick, that everything was fmished,' Jo said ' alter 'Well and truly finished. I'm sorry about is not the place to drown or think out your future.' Nick sat down on the Victorian chair by the fireplace and t his legs in front of him. 'I'll go,' he said, 'when ready. But I want some answers from you first.' He 'Have you been seeing Richard de Clare Jo froze, staring at him. 'You're out of your mind! You're talking as if he's a real man, which he isn't. And even if he it would be none of your business! You and I are Nick. Finished. How many more times do I have say it? And I want you to go.' She flung herself towards front door and dragged it as far open as it would go. Nick did not move. 'Have you seen him again?' 'Are you going to leave, Nick?' 'Did you see him?' 'You really are going madl' She stared atim in frightened 'As you just pointed out I missed my appointment Carl, so of course I haven't seen him. How could I?' was no way she was going to tell Nick what had hap Hay. 'Look. If you won't go, then I shall ' She broke off with a little frightened cry as he moved her with astounding swiftness, and putting his hand the front door pushed it closed. He gave a tired smile. going to touch you.' Staring up at him she was overwhelmed suddenly by pity as reco,niul the deep nnhppines$ in his eyes behind the hard msk. 'Nick,' she said, trying to keep the ache of longing out of voice. 'What has happened to you? Where are you? You Io be like thi..' 'Maybe you weren't two-timing me before'. He turned v from her and stood in the middle of the room, his hack to his arms folded across his chest. 'And maybe I hadn't just lost my biggest client before. Losing that account could mean we fold. Desco more or less carrried the finn.' 'I told you, I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'But you'll fred other clients. And I'm not two-timing you, Nick. It was you who left me for Judy, remember? Look, I'm tired out. Can we talk tomorrow perhaps? I could meet you for. lunch or something.' 'I'll take you out to dinner thi evening.' 'Nick, I really am fired. I'd rather make it lunch tomorrow.' 'Dinner.' Nick spun round. 'Now.' 'Goddamn it, Nick!' Her temper suddenly snapped. 'Have you gone deO I don't want to go out now. I've been driving for hours and I'm worn out. And as you look like being less thn good company tonight I'd rather you just went away!' She took a step forward and stood in front of him defiantly, her ey bi$. 'Go on, Nick. Get the hell out of here. If you don't I'm going to ring Sam and tell him to come and fetch you.' She pushed past him walked to the phone. She picked up the receiver but before she could lift it to her ear Nick had snatched it from her. He $lamme it.back in place. 'I'll give you five minutes to get ready,' he said. His voice was very quiet. She stared at him in horror, all her fear returning. His face was reuse, the skin drawn tight across his cheek-bones, his eyes narrowed, his mouth hard as he took a couple of paces away from her and waited. She stood up shakily. 'Why are you behaving Like tbi?' she said at last, bewildered. Her voice was trembling. He ignored her question. 'Get ready, Jo. Your five minutes is pmnin OUt,' he warned. 'OK.' She gave in. 'Why don't you ring the place up the road and see if they've got a table free?' At least in a pubfic restaurant she would be safe. She smiled at him shakily then turned and fled towards the bathroom. He made no attempt to follow her as she s!a-mmed the door and locked it. Then she leaned over the basin. For a moment she thought she was going to be sick. She was shaking violently and her hands and face were sweating as she turned both taps on full and began to splash water onto her face. It was several moments before she turned them off and reached for a towel; as she did so she heard the ping of the phone being replaced. When she emerged at last Nick was sitting waiting for her, a book in his hands. Recognising it she glanced at her bag still lying where she had dropped it in the doorway. Sure enough it was open and a pile of guide books and maps had spilled across the floor. 'You've been to Hay-on-Wye?' Nick asked, slowly flipping the book shut and letting it fall onto the coffee table. She nodded mutely. 'Why on earth didn't you say so? What happened?' She shrugged. 'Nothing much. I went to Abergavenny first where...' she hesitated, 'where Matilda spent so muchtime, to stay with an old schoolfriend and then they sent me on to Hay. I wanted to make notes for the article.' 'And did you recognise anything?' 'Not even vaguely familiar. It had all changed so much.' She was watching him whilst she was talking. The tension in hi face had eased. 'Was there a table?' He nodded. 'At nine. Time for a drink first.' Suddenly he grinned - the old, infectious grin. 'I'm not drunk, Jo, really. God knows why I have been behaving the way I have. Forgive me. It's worry, I suppose. Or the male menopause or something.' Jo managed to laugh, relieved by hia sudden change of mood. 'Hardly the latter I hope. Not at your age!' 'My age!' Nick took his glass and walked across to the French windows. Drawing back the curtains he threw them and walked out onto the balcony. 'I feel about a huh 'I'm .going to have to go to the States in a week or two,' he said over his shoulder, 'to see ffI can win other account we've been angling for. If I could get that, it would more than make up for losing Desco. And I haven't given up on Mike Desmond yet - if I can only concen He frowned. 'Oh God, Jo. What is the matter with 381 me? I know I'm behaving crazily.' He ran his fingers through his hair. Jo followed him outside. 'You're tired I expect,' she said at last. He shook his head. 'It's more than that. It's as if-' He tightened his lips angrily. 'No, no excuses. It's me. Some foul-tempered, vicious part ofme. A part of me I don't understand.' Absently he picked a bloom from the passion flower which trailed from an ornamental urn across the stone railings round the balcony. He scrutinised it carefully. 'There is something rather horrible about these,' he said after a mment, thoughtfully. 'They're like wax. So perfect; so symmetrical, they don't look real. And all that symbolism. Nails, whips, blood and wounds.' He flicked it with his finger. Then he looked up suddenly with another lightning change of subject. 'You remember your meeting with Prince John?' Jo nodded, trying to ignore the sudden tightening of her stomach muscles at the mention of John's name. She watched as Nick leaned over the baIcony and let the flower drop. It spun crazily as it fell, hit the railings belowand disappeared into the dark basement area. 'You didn't like him much as I recall.' 'Not me, Nick. Matilda.' Jo corrected him gently. 'No, she didn't. He was an utterly obnoxious child.' Nick picked off another flower-head. 'Look, they're beginning to close for the evening.' He held it in his palm for a moment, before dropping it after the first. lick, stop it! I ILke them, even if you don't. I don't want a bald plant.' 'Have you come across him again yet' 0 shook her head. 'Don't let's lk about Matilda any more, plee. She doesn't bring out the best in either of us.' o glanced t her watch. *Why don't we walk up the rod slowly? I'm ravenous.' She was very tired. She glanced at Nick across the table in the dim candlelight, watching the shadows playing on his face as he ate. He reached for his glass and raised it so that the candle reflected ruby glints Off the Valpolicella. 'Shall we drink to new bennings?' he said, looking at her at last. She smiled. 'To your new account. May it be so huge you can afford two more Porsches!' He laughed. 'To that also. But I really meant, to us. I didn't mean'to hurt you the other night, Jo.' She looked away abruptly. 'You damn well did, though.' 'Will you give me another chance?' His eyes sought and held hers. They were almost transparent in their clarity in the candlelight. Unwillingly she put down her fork and almost without realising she had done it, she moved her hand slowly across the table. He grasped it, his eyes still fixed on hers. "Can you forgive me, Jo?' The touch of his fmgen sent little tingles of excitement up -and down her spine. With an effort she tore her gaze away. Between them the candle guttered violently above its strangely shaped sculpture of dripped wax. 'I don't know,' shesaid after a moment. 'Nick, I don't know what to do.' 'I'll make it up to you, Jo. I mtke no excuses. I don't know what happened.' He moved his thumb slowly across her paim towards her wrist. 'But I will mke it up to you, if you will let me.' She was shaken by the wave of longing which flooded through her as his hand moved on lightly up the inside of her forearm, touching the rough scab which had formed over the Slowly she shook her head. 'It won't work, Nick. We don't belong together,' she whispered. Her hand still lay beneath his on the-table. 'It was never meant to be.' Tearing her eyes from hit face she looked back at the candle, concentrating on the white heat at the centre of the flame. 'It was meant to be, Jo.' His words floated almost silently iato her consciousness. 'You are fighting your destiny, don't see?' She didn't answer. Unblinking, she went on staring at the flame. The silence stretched between them. 'What are you seeing, Jo?' Nick's voice came to her at last from a great distance. 'Perhaps it's John. Why don't you spare a few dreams from Richard de Clare and hink about Prince The outer bailey of Winchester Castle, below the squat tower of the new cathedral, was busy with horses and grooms. Beside Matilda, William pulled up his horse and threw his leg stiffly over the pcmmel. It would be good to have a few days' rest before going on to Bramber, where the old baron his father had at long last died. 'Whose men are those?' he enquired curtly, seeing them without livery as his page ran to help him. 'Prince John's, my lord,' the boy whispered hoarsely. 'The gi.g's son has come to hunt the New Forest.' illiam snorted. 'That young hound. It's time he went to hunt hlmself'some bigger game in France.' He gave his arm to his wife and led her towards the hall. 'But if it's to mean some good hunting in the King's forest, then I'll forgive him his presence here,' and, chuckling he went to greet his host. Prince John had grown considerably since his betrothal three ysars before. He was still stocky and short for his age, but his face had fined down, losing the puppy fat which had marred his features, and his hair was the red gold of his father. He seemed pleased to see the newcomers at the evening meal in the great hall that night. 'Sir William, it's good to have you here,' he exclaimed leaning across his nelghbour and gaTing intently into the older man's face. 'I trust you are fully recovered from your wounds? That was a sorry business, when the men of Gwent attacked Dingastow and killed Peer.' He smiled grimly. 'God rot them! You were lucky to escape. 'You will join us, I hope, for the hunt tomorrow? Then we'll have the chance to see your prowess.' He selected a piece of meat from the plate and chewed it thoughtfully, the rings on his fingers winking in the candlelight. Beyond her husband, who seemed flattered by the boy's attention, Matilda fiRle.of the Prince, and she sat back, not wanting to attract his attention. Her memories of him were not particu pleasant. She had often thought of young Isabella as she King's youngest son travelling round England, him.elf in one great castle after another, sometimes I in the company of Ranulf Glanville, who was acting as his iltutor, sometimes with only his attendants and his favoured groom William Franceis. Her husband, who had met him often, liked the boy and spoke well of his promise, but she could not help thinking of the heartrending scenes before the betrothal ceremony had taken place. She knew the child was safe at home in Cardiff, still with her mother, but the ' of the memory had been aggravat el by the rumour that had reached her at Hay that the Earl of Clare was negotiating to marry Isabella's elder sister, .Amicia. Desperately she tried to dismi the thought of Richard from her mind .and, pnhlng aside her dish, she concentratedon the activity in me centre of the smoky hall below the dais, where a singer with a harp was being ushered forward to entemin the guests. Her vow to think no more of Richard had been often and badly broken, but somehow through the years she had avoided seeing him alone. The glittering crowd of nobles and their attendants gathered outside the castle at sun up the next morning. The air was full of excitement shared by the nervously curvetting hoses and the barking hounds. Matilda reined in her black mare tightly; the horse was already frothing at the mouth, her hooves beating rhythmically on the slippery cobblestones. Prince John, dressed splendidly in brocade trimmed with ermine, was-mounted on a tall raw-boned chestnut stallion two hands too high for hlm but he reined it in savagely as it .plunged beside the other horses. Already William was thf.re the Prince, and she saw John turn and grin at her and shout some good-humoured iest when he was not preoccupied with staying on his horse. It seemed the boy had taken a fancy to William and she saw scowls amongst the Prince's friends as de Braose took the coveted position at John's side. Then they were off, horses, hounds, riders and foot followers poundLug out of the gates and across the bare ground to the west of the town which separated-the castle from the outsHrts of the forest. The pace increased to a gallop. Matilda bent .low over the mare's neck, excited at the prospect of the chase, intent on keeping up with the leaders as they plunged into the cool leafiness of the trees. Almost at once the hounds found a scent and their excited yelping turned to a full throated roar. The huntsmen picked up the notes on their horns and the horsemen thundered afier them down the grassy ride. It was the first day of the season and they killed plentifully ire turning their tired horses at last for home. The main of riders split up into small groups as they walked back gh the leafy glades dappled with the evening sunlight. da was exhausted, and she had alloweder mare to drop ]ain" d the others a tittle and pick her own Way quietly over raft paths between the trees, when there was a thunder of behind her. Turning to draw aside out of the way of fle hurrying rider, she found Prince John at her side. He reined in and grinned at her. 'A good start to the season, my lady. I trust you enjoyed your day?' His surcoat was stained with blood and the blade of his knife sheathed carelessly in his girdle showed an encrustation of gore. i ,She returned his smile cautiously. 'It was a good day's Your Highness. I'm glad you were at Winchester. always says there is some of the freest hunting in the Sir William.' The boy eyed her thought free man and good with his bow, and he's a lucky to have so beautiful a wife.' He glanced at her the horses jostled for position his thigh for a moment brnshed against hers. She felt a surge of repugnance. Was the silly boy trying to flirt with her? She forced herself to smile. 'You are very flattering, Your High llesa, thank.you.' After a few paces, to her relief, the path broadened and she able to guide the mare away from him a little. 'Sir William keeps you too much in those border lands of John went on thoughtfully. 'You should come to my father's court with him.' 'Oh I stay on the estates because I want to. I hate court.' Matilda was thinking wistfully of the times she had chmen not to go, rather than risk meeting Richard; not wanting to see the King: She paused abruptly, seeing the Prince wling furiously, and cursed herself for her tactlessness. 'But of course,' she hurried on, trying to cover her mistake hastily, 'I am much honoured when I have a special invitation...' 'Honoured but not pleased, it seems,' he interrupted, his tone sarcastic. He stood up in his stirrups, reaching for a leafy branch and pulling it down as he rode under it. His horse shied, and John laughed. He seemed to make up his mind to try a different tack. 'You're a lady who knows her own mind I think.' He reined his horse close to hers once more, 'And too young and beautiful to he content with so coarse a husband. I wonder ff perhaps a lusty prince would he more to your liking?' He leaned across and put his hand on her thigh. Matilda was overcome with anger. Not stopping to think she raised her whip and thwacked him smartly acrms the wrist with the handle. 'I don't think you realise what you're suggesting, my lord,' she flashed at him. 'Do you wish to dishonour the wife ofoue of your father's most loyal subjects?' Her flay dissolved suddenly at the sight of his red, discomfited face told she tried to suppress a gurgle of laughter. He was,.after all, but a boy. 'I am sorry, my lord Prince. It is just that you were only a child when last I saw you, and now ' Her words died on her lips at the sight of his face. It was white with fury as he groped blindly for his reins, pluttering as he tried to speak. 'God's teeth,' he managed at last. 'Not so much of a child, mad, that I don't know how to deflower a woman or father a brat, I assure you.' He pulled his horse to a'savage bait, which sent it rearing and plunging sideways against the bushes at the edge of the path and, giving her one murderous glance as he turned, he sent his horse galloping back down the ride. Matilda let her mare stand for a moment as she reaiised, with a shock, that she was shaking from head to foot. She knew she bad been a fool. She could have put him off tactfully without making an enemy of him. 'An enemy for life. She murmured the words to herse, watching the mare's ears twitch at the sound of her voice and she shook her head, trying to throw off an irrational feeling of fear. How stupid, to let a little incident ruin a beautiful and exciting day. Taking a deep breath she gathered up her reins and turned once more to follow the sounds of the other riders, slowly making their way back towards Winchester. She told William what bad happened when they were alone together in their guest chamber that night. To her surprise he threw back his head and laughed. 'The young puppy[' he said. 'The runt of the litter and he fancies his chances with my wife. You should be very flattered, my dear. Prince John has an eye for a pretty woman.' 'But he'$ only a child,' she burst out. 'If it wasn't so fi, mny, it would be disgusting.' 'I'd bedded women and plenty by his age.' William unfastened his mantle and threw it down. 'Take no notice Moll. Think ofit as a compliment. He's spoiled and as the King's son, few women refuse him. It's about the only benefit he does get from his position, poor lad. He's not yet learned enough discretion to know whose wife he can wheedle and whose he can't. He'll know next time.' He laughed again. For the r-minder of their stay at Winchester John ostentatiously ignored Matilda, and as obviously courted the attention of her husband. The sturdy baron was con.qantly required by his side, g, ioking, even lecturing the boy, clapping him on his shoulders and laughing uproariously at his comments, and Matilda watched silently as John litened and smiled, never totally unbending, but always William to feel he had his confidence and his friend and she found herself wondering if the boy was quite as '.as William thought. On the next hunting expedition she took care to remain in centre of a crowd of women followers, not once allowing her weary horse to drop back alone. She need not have worried. John went out of his way to avoid her, remaining with his lords and William .and the leading huntsmen. When they left for Bramber castle John bade William an affectionate goodbye. To Matilda he extended a cold, hostile hand and when she curtseyed and murmured the appropriate wnrd$ of farewell he turned away without a word. Jo stared up with a start. The waiter was standing beside her, his hand on her plate. The food on it was practically untouched. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It was very good. I'm just not hungry.' She looked across at lqick. He was watching her through empty thoughtfully between , 'YOU hypnotised reel' she gasped. He shook his head, 'I did nothing. I merely sat here and ,listened. Two coffees, please, and the bill.' He looked up at he turned his attention back to Jo. He smiled faintly. 'You were, what I believe is called, scryingo uing in the candle flame, lqo doubt you could see them in a balLa well. You must be paychicl' Jo bad gone white. 'That's nonsense -' 'h it? It's more common to see the future than the past, I been burned at the stake for lem.' 'And today I could make my living telfing fortunes on the end of a pier[ Oh Godl' She put her head in her hnds. 'I'm frightened, Nick.' 'Why?' He picked up the bottle and poured the last of the wine into her glass. 'You obviously have a gift. And if you are going to persis] with researching into the past, the ability to do it yourself will at least save you Bennet's no doubt exorbitant fee,.' He pursed his lil. 'Do you remember what you said?' She took a sip from her glass, glancing round at the other diners. No one was staring. No one seemed to have noticed anything miss. 'It must have been you asking about Prince John earlier,' she said slowly. 'I saw him again. Only he was older this time. A teenager.' 'But you found him as noxious as before.' Nick was still twisting his between his fingers. Jo nodded thoughtfully. 'He seemed to think me attractive, but his methods of showing it were pretty crass. ThAnk you.' She looked up and milled as the waite put a cup down in front Perhaps your reactiom were tactless andxigh-hAndecL' A nervous tic had begun at the mer of Nick's eye. She stared at it. 'We are talking about me again,' she said tardy. 'It was not me. It was Matilda.' 'Whichever one of you it was, you should have had the semi tivity to handle the situation more discreetly.' Nick took the bill and began methodically to check it. ,Why are you so angry?' Jo. said addenly. 'It's as if you're taking it personally. I didn't mention Richard, did I? Or is it just becan, I talked about the past? Or because I wasted this beamiful meal? Or did I shout and yell and make an exhibition He shook his head, reching into his pocket for his wallet. 'None of them. Come on. Let's go.' Pushing his cbir back he stood up. It was a glorious night, warm and balmy. They walked slowly back up Victoria Road. Most of the house, were in dark hera. Here and there a window was still lighted, shadows mov 390 Nick did not touch her. He strode ahead in silence. Only when they reached the doorstep beneath the pillared porch did he speak. 'Are you going to let me come in?' She stared up at his face in the fight of the street lamp. 'No, Nick.' 'Please, I won't hurt you, I promise.' He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled her af,nst him. She wanted him badly. She could feel her heart beginning to beat faster as his mouth moved gently against hers and she felt her resistance weakening as he moved his hands slowly from her shoulders towards her breasts, massaging them sensuously through the thin material of her shirt, pressing her spine again,st the door. He felt in his pocket for his key, silencing her feeble protest with another kiss as he slotted it into the lock behind her and pushed it open. The hall inside was black. He did not bother to try to find the light His arm pinioning hers, he kissed her more fiercely as the door swung shut behind them, leaving them in 'Nick,' Jo gasped. 'Please, don't -' 'Why?' She could hear the strange exultance in his voice as he tore her shirt opened and dropped his head to nuzzle her breasts. 'Please, I asked you not to come in-' 'But you want me, Jo,' he breathed. 'You want inc.'Catching her wrist he pulled her with him up the stairs, unlocking 'the door into her flat and pulling her inside. Only then did he release her. Jo groped for the light switch, trying to refasten shirt and tuck it back inside her skirt. 'Nick, please, I'm -' She backed away from him uncertainly. 'Will you go make soe coffee -' 'No coffee. It sohers you up too fast.' He strode into the pulling the curtain-, shut and turning on the table lamp the comer. 'What we need is soma more wine and some Leaving her standing by the door he disappeared the-kitchen and returned with a bottle. 'I see you've 391 replenished your cellar.' He smiled at her. 'Put some music on, Jo. And relax.' She was standing by the door, her band on the latch. 'Turn off the main lights and put on something quiet and sexy,' he went on, his voice suddenly gentle. 'I said I wouldn't hurt you. Come on. Relax.' He turned away from her to fred the corkscrew and set about drawing the cork.and pouring out the wine. Still hesitating, Jo moved to the shelf and shuffled through a pile of cassettes. Her hands were shaking as she picked one up. 'Piaf?' she asked, conscious that he had put down the bottle and walked across towards the door. She spun round, afraid that he was moving to lock it, but he merely went to the switch and turned off the rnin lights, leaving only the sofi glow from the one small lamp in the corner. Trying to steady her nerves she turned back to the tape, putting it on very low. 'Your wine.' He was immediately behd her: She faced him and took the glass from him. 'Yo3 won't hurt me again qick? You promise?' she whispered as he reached up to touch her face. Nick smiled. 'Why should I hurt you?' He took the glass back from her and set it down on the sheffbehind her, then gently he drew her to him: With a grown he began to unbutton her shirt once more. He pulled it off then reached up to unfasten her bra. 'That's better,' he murmured as he dropped it ou the floor. 'How, why have you still got your shoes on?' He stood back and folded his arms once more, watching as, uncomfortably, Jo kicked offher high-heeled sandals, embarrassed at his sudden cold detachment. She gave a nervous laugh as she turned away from him to pick up her glass. 'Aren't you going to take offyour shirt too?' 'Of course.' He watched her drink. 'You enjoyed it when I raped you the other night,' he said suddenly. 'I did not,' she flared. I think you did. I could feel it. A woman can't hide it when she's excited.' Jo stopped and picked up her shirt hastily, clutching it her, 'I hope you haven't got the idea that I like being about, because I don't. Please Nick, stop teasing Nick took a step nearer her. He dragged the shirt out of her and threw it down behind him, then he caught her by pulling her hard against him. 'Beautiful, indepen oh so liberated Miss Clifford! I doubt if any man has to tell you what to do before, has he? One look from flashing eyes and men cower back into their comers. was Pete Leveson like in bed, Jo? He looks like a teddy I doubt if he ever beat you. Perhaps that's why you such a short affair.' 'Nick.-' 'Or Sam. Sam has always wanted you, hasn't he? My and told me as much today. Has he ever dared to you? I doubt it! My brother is scared ofclever women!' 'Please Nick!' She tried to pull away from him. 'You're : me. You promised you wouldn't -' "I'll do what the hell I like with you, Jo.' He smiled at her. s you. You like powerful men. You like a man bring you to your knees.' She struggled frantically. 'You're drunk, Nick -' 'I don't think so. In fact I've not drunk nearly enough.' He suddenly she nearly fell. 'Let's have some more 'You've had enough.' Dodging away from.him she stooped grabbed her crumpled shirt. 'If you don't get out of here t ten seconds, Nick, I'm calling the police!' had picked up the wine bottle and, holding it up to the for a moment, he poured some into his glass. He towards her, sipping it. 'This is a good year,' he mur 'I'm" glad you care about good wine..Many women -, .Jo was backing away from him towards the phone. As she he lunged towards her and caught the phone cord, it out of the socket. His wine spilt over her arm as, a cry of fright, she dodged past him. 393 'You know, I quite enjoy your show of re,--Lttance, Jo,' he mid lazily. 'I can see why men always prefer - what is it they call them - women ofspiritl' 'Just stop all the chanvi crap and get out ofhereF Jo was shaking violently. She put the sofa between herself and Nick as she pulled on her shirt. 'We were talking about the men who told you what to do, weren't we,' he went on couversationo!!y. 'What about those men of Matilda's? William de Braose now. He never asked permission before he screwed his wife, I'll bet. Did it thrill you? Being forced to obey him? You had to Obey your husband, didn't you?' He was moving towards her again slowly, his hndsome face set. J0 bcked towards the French doors. 'Please Nick, go away.' 'You haven't told me yet. Did Witlm turn you on?' She shook her head. 'Never. He was repellent.' 'Yet you bore him six children.' 'Not me, Nick. It wasn't me, for Christ's mkei Look, why don't we go out? It's a glorious night. Whydon't we go for a drive? A long drive. Do you remember, once, we drove down to Brighton. We could have a swim at dawn and then have breakfast down there -' 'Tell me about Richard de Clare,' Nick went on as if she hadn't spoken. 'Tell me about the handsome Richard. He turned you on now, didn't he?' Suddenly her fear and anger overflowed and she was yelling at him, 'Yes, he bloody well did. He turned me on as you put it. He was tim. He was humorous and good to be with. He wasn't intense and competitive. He wasn't bloody nit even though he was a medieval knight and an earl! . was a gentleman, Nick. Something you wouldn't know :to be, if they exist these days which I don't think they do. he was good in bed. And in the bracken and anye he happened to be! Very, very good. A hell of a lot you will ever bet' She mopped, psnting. In the silen.ce between them the brown, spiced voice of Edith Piafhad begun to sing 'Nfilord'. Suddenly Nick began to laugh. 'So, we have the truth at He went to the stereo and turned up the volume. 'Alle,, dancez, milord!. My only comolatio, milord, is that milord. Dead for eight hundred years! Poor Jo. Being screwed by a ghmt! A fucking, imaginary ghost!' He turned up the volume fifll then gave her a mock bow. The sound blazed round the fiat, reverberating off the walls, distorted almost out of recognition by the vibration of the bass notes. Jo clapped her hands to her ears. Snatching his jacket off the chair, Nick slung it over his . and walked to the front door, then he turned. 'And ' he shouted. 'Are you a ghost as well? Think about it, my lady! Think about it!' Opening the door he strolled out the landing. Jo hurled herself at the door and banged it shut, shooting the bolt and putting outhe chain. She was shaking from head Then she staggered to the stereo and switched it off. then, in the sudden echoing silence, did she hear e hammering onthe ceiling from the fiat upstairs. 395 24 The desk in Bet's olic w covered with Kodachromes. She looked up as Jo came in and grinned maliciously as she switched off the viewing box. 'God! You look as if you've had a hard night. Coffee or medicinal brandy?' 'Coffee, please.' Jo flung herself down in the ochre armchair by the window, letfi'n her I:mg fall to the floor. There was a jug pesking permanently in the comer of the office, slotted between the bookshelves and piles of magazines. Bet reached for a cup off the tray, filled it with black, unsweetened coffee and handed it to Jo. 'Are you going to tell me?' 'Nick and I had a row last night.' 'So, what's new?' ]o raed the cup to her mouth with a shaking hand. 'He's 'I can't ay I'm surprised. You heard about the eock-up Jim Greerson made of the new Desco Campaign? He commissioned mine unknown to do the |work, then I gather Nick wasn't interested enough even to look at it so im went ahead and approved it to show to Mike Denond. had fdly fits it was so lousy and ran scren off to FranldynGreersou's nearest competitor and had the vapours-in their lap.' Bet ratinid o's fe with cool mber eye. 'But you knew all that.' |o sled wearily. 'I knew the gist of it. Can I have some brandy in thi coffee?' Bet walked to her desk, opened the right-hand bottom drawer, and took out a full bottle of Courvoisier. 'He didn't knock you about did he, Jo?' Her eyes were resting on the fading bruise on Jo's wrist. Jo shrugged. 'Only verbally last night.' 'You mean he has before?' Bet was vastly intrigued. Jo trailed. 'lqot really, I suppose. Sorry to disappoint you, Bet. But he did frighten me. It was as if he'd changed person completely. It can't have just been business worries. I was around hen he and Jim first went into partner They weathered all sorts of crises then and Nick just as a challenge. He wouldn't let one thing like this his whole personality!' She gave a little shiver. 'He's like someone possessed.' Bet sat down on the chair behind her desk. She crossed her r trousered legs. 'Do you still love him?' Jo sipped her coffee. 'God knows!' 'Then I suggest you leave the relationship to God for the being.' Bet scrutinised the sol1 red leather of her ankle boots. 'What about thinking about work instead? I seen your byline on the news stands for weeks. You appear tO feature as the subject of other people's articles days.' 'Bet, I said I was sorry about that ' 'Forget it.' Bet put her elbows on the desk. 'I want this , for W Id, Jo. The whole story, as it happem. Matilda's story. Not the romantic crap Pete Leveson was spooning The blood and guts reality. I want from now on. And I'll pay. I want to serialise or less as it happens. Right to the bitter end.' don't know if I'm going on with it, Bet.' Jo reached for brandy bottle and slowly unscrewed it. 'It frightens me so I was thinking ofgoing back to Bennet and a-.king him forget all about Matilda. I went to Wales, to places Matilda knew. When I got there I went into a spontaneously, without anyone there-to hypnotise It was as if I were being taken over by her. I couldn't stop She bit her lip. 'I panicked and came home. It was Bet. I couldn't ha-ndle it. I could suddenly see the thing getting out of hand, see her life unrolling hoar hour, day after day, taking over my own existence ' eyes were shining. 'Exactly! Jo, you've got to let it Come on, don't tell me you don't want to do it. It's scoop of the year. I want to know what it feels like for a twentieth-century woman to go through the time barrier into the dark ages ' 'It's hardly the dark ages, Bet. The twelfth century was a time ofrenalssance.' Jo -trailed wearily. 'And it's not me who goes back. I am not conscious of myself as havin--g any identity other than that of Matilda at the time. I only make compari 'Then make them afterwards!' Bet picked up a pen and held it in front ofber with both hands. 'Come on, Jo, it's not like you to duck out of a challenge. Throw yourself into it. You said you had been to Wales?' Jo nodded. 'Then go back. Go back now. Concentrate on the story. Don't fight it. Take this hypnotist man with you if you want to. W IA will pay. I'll draw you up a contract giving us exclusive fights. You can have three consecutive months. Msrlmum publicity, TV advertising - cover flash, of course. It's possible a TV series might come out of it - who knows? I'll talk to one or two people I know at the Beeb and see what they think. Come on, Jo. We're talking about a lot of money apart from anything else.' She paused, giving her a sideways glance. 'It'll get you away from Nick for a bit. That can't be bad either.' Jo took a deep breath. 'True,' she said. She was tom. The journalist halfofher wanted to do it; it was the other half, the deep-rooted private half, which resented Bet's intrusion, and that half of her was still afraid. She looked thoughtfully past Bet out of the windows towards the river. 'What about the rest of my series if I agree?' 'We'll do the food article on its own as you've just about finished it. Drop the rest of the series for the time being. We can go back to them later.' Bet stood up. She walked around the desk and took the brandy bottle out of Jo's hand. 'Come on, I'll take you out to lunch. You have to admit it, Jo, it's a bloody good story. You're too experienced a journalist not to see that. You once told me you'd like to have been a war correspondent, remember? Now is your chance to prove it. you're taking some risks, but think of the experiences There is a book in this, Jo. You can base it on series.' She scooped the strap of her tote bag onto her Then she paused. 'Listen, why not see if Tim you down in Wales?' She dropped the bag phone on her desk to face her. 'I'll call him now..' 'I haven't agreed yet, Bet.' Jo stood up. 'Yes you have.' Bet grinned as she dialled. 'You wouldn't s morning if you'd really wanted to stop. would have gone straight to your hypnotist. Here,' she phone, 'the number is ringing.' met Pete Leveson for lunch at Langan's the following sat downstairs, both'greeting other diners for a , turned to one another. Pete grinned. a slice oflemon at this time of day, right?' Bet raised an eyebrow. 'That will do for starters.' She sat in her chair and looked him straight in the eye. 'I'm pre you know why I asked you to meet me here.' 'Hands offJo Clifford?' Pete leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. He stared up at the ceiling. 'Do you r while?' 'You mean you want me to trade stories?' Bet glanced at him 'Possibly. If you know anything exCiting that I don't.' Bet laughed out loud. 'Touch. Supposing I promi to 'ear to the ground.' She took up the menu and began to at it thoughtfully. 'There is one favour you might do for mid, not tdng her eyes from the list of d'oeuvres. 'Spend a little time with/a pen'te Curzon. I f'md her grateful.' 'You mean Jo will be gratefifl if Judy has less time for Nick.' Bet concealed a smile. 'No, that's not what I meant,' she said. raised a languid hand to greet a colleague who had n the doorway. Pete gave her a sharp look. Then he grinned. 'I see - and . She's gone to Wales, you mid?' Bet nodded. 'Tim has gone with her. He's going to photograph the locations- ruins and mountaln and things, and /Iso try and eatch Jo whilst she's in a trance. You'd he amazed how quickly he agreed to go. He dropped everything -lett his entire diary to that dihy Georgechappie and whatever his Pete gave. a silent whistle. 'So, that's the way the wind blows. Does lqick know what is happening?' She shrugged. 'I don't know and I don't care. Nick Frauldyn is Jo's worst enemy in some ways. He distracts her from her work. He rums her neurotic when I want her in "ctsive and militant. He blunts that acerbic edge which makes Jo, Jo.' 'Besides which you've fantfied him yourself for years.' Bet gave an enigmaticsmile. 'Have you tried the nest of qt3-il' eggs-they do here,' she said innocently. 'If not, I'd recommend it.' There was a knock on Jo's bedroom door. She stood back from her suitcase and stared for a moment out o'the dormer window towards the trees which screened the River Wye from her view.. 'Come in, Tim. I'm inst about ready.' Tim appeared, stooping beneath the low sloping ceiling. 'You were right about Mrs Grit/iths,' he said in an undertone. 'What a gem. I'm glad she had rooms for us.' He wore an open-necked check shin and jeans. There was a camera case slung from his shoulder. 'Shall we walk up into Hay?' Jo nodded. She slipped her notebook into her tote bag and followed Tim down the creakin staircase and .out onto the They walked slowly up themad past the church, stopping to stare at the grass-covered rump where once the first castle of Hay had stood, then. they made their way towards the bridge which spa nned the river. Leaning on the blue-painted railings, they stared dowo into the water far below. `you say it happened here the first time?' Tim asked. Jo nodded. 'I was sitting on the shingle down there.' 'And it happened completely spontancomdy?' 'I think I knew something was wrong. Things went strange a bit jerky, as if I were starting a migraine. Then, quite sud I was somewhere else.' 'You want to my again?' Jo swallowed. 'Of course. That's what we've come for. wry smile, 'I'd rather have someone I think I'll feel safer somehow. Waking up and finding people bendin over me...I felt as if they had seen me Tim nodded soberly. 'I do understand. Come on.' He was turn away from the tail when he stiffened and leaned down into the bright glitter of the water. , those streamers ofweed.' Jo felt a shiver touch her shoulders. She clutched the rail, down, half expec0-'. to see some shadow from the long ago past. 'There. See it?' Tim leaned over in excitement. 'A huge Jo relaxed. She smiled at him in re.lift. 'This is a famou fishing fiver. You should have brought your rods, if you fish.' 'No way.' Tim followed her towards the far side of the kill anhing for fun, that's a sport for as much as I wnt with my camera.' She turned in at the swinging gate which led off the mad 'That sounds very philosophical.' 'Perhaps.' He was grinnin as he followed her down the through the trees and onto the shingle strip along the Slowly Jo led the way to the spot where she had sat picking her way over the smooth roch which lined the fthe river. She stopped at last on the edge of the shingle again. 'It was here,' she said. Tim was watching her. 'You don't have to my and do it 'No. I want to.' She put her bag down and sat nervously on one of the She swallowed, staring at the water, not blinking, 400 401 allowing her eyes to be d--led, deliberately trying to make her mind a blsnk. Beside her Tim uatted silently on the shingle, his eyes on her face. He was completely relaxed, his long llmtn folded with the motionless ease of someone accustomed to the role of watcher. Jo, in contrast, was rigid with tension. He saw her waliow again. She was frowning. 'It isn't going to happen,' she said at last. 'You're trying too hard,' Tim said easily. 'Try and relax.' 'I can't.' She tore her eyes away from the water to look at him. 'I anppose, deep down, I don't want it to happen. I'm afraid. Last time, sitting here, I was completely relaxed. It was the last thing I expected. Besides, I think I was so ,hnted that my mind went a complete blnk and that is when it happened.' 'Were you afraid with Dr Beunet?' Tim smiled easily. She nodded. 'I was afraid but I couldn't fight his hypnosis. He knew how to approach it obliquely to put me at my ease.' 'You were telling me you read a book ou self-hypnosis. What did that tell you to do?' She grinned wryly. 'It was incredibly complicated. To do with separating the two halves of the brain. You have to keep one half distracted whilst the other hlt'is stimulated. I didn't read the instmcfious too carefully at the time, I must confess. It mded awfully like hard work.' Tim laughed. 'You should have brought it with you could have read out the instructions as we went along. I find it hard enough to cope with my brain even when I think it's working in unison.' He stretched his arn bove his head lazily. 'Tell me the point Matilda's story has reached now.' 'Well, here it was rather exciting.' Jo smiled. 'She met Richard again. They flew their falcons on the moors somewhere up there behind us, beyond Clyro, and they managed to go off on their own. They made love on the grass, by a mountain stream. Tim? What is it?' Tim had u'ambled to his feet. He walked to the edge of,he river, kicking at the ripples with the toe of his shoe. 'lqoth.' He tooped and picking up a amall atone, akimmed it s walk up and see your castle. try again another time for a trance.' 'All right. If you want to.' Jo frowned, puzzled by his Turnin--& he uniled at her, extending his hand to pull her to feet. 'I should like to take some shot with the sun low like then why don't we find a nice pub and grab an early 'That would be nice.' She picked up her hag and followed the stones. 'Tim. Do you think I'm mad to pursue He hrugged. 'Who knows? If you are driven to do it then must.' 'Driven? By Bet, you mean?' Lauhin. he shook his head. 'Driven by something imide Matilda henelf perhal, uing to tell her story.' Jo shivered. 'Do you she is forcing herself on me? I feel posmed, not even olmmed. I think I'm just 'Then you can choose.' 'Would you go on if you were me?' There was a moment's ailence. Tim was looking up at the bridge, his eyes narrowed. 'I'm not ure. I believe in you see.' 'omething like that. To know what ha gone before won't it is better not to know.' But I do know.' The worda came out as a whisper. 'I know happened from books.' Tim shook his head. 'You don't know the truth, Jo. You facts. Suppositious. It was too long ago, poorly documented, to know the truth. The way you will find that out is to five Matilda's life again 'Right up to the bitter end?' Jo thought for a moment. 'I think I have the courago. I think I am afraid of death.' 4O2 4O3 'Even when you are living proof of the fact that death isn't the end?' She smiled. 'That is begging the question. You are assuming that Matilda was a previous incarnation.' 'I know she was,' Tim said soily. She stared at him. 'You know? Or you would like to think so?' 'I know.' 'Why are you so sure?' For a moment she thought he was going to tell her, then he hook his head. 'One day I'll explain, Jo. Not yet. Come on, the light's changing. Let's get to work.' They did a complete circle of the castle, photographing it from every angle, in some places close beneath the wall, in others viewing it beyond roof topa and tree;, always at a 'Aren't you going to try and go in?' Tim said, putting one camera away and taking a cond one out of his hag. Jo shook her head. 'I don't think 80. At least, not yet. It is so changed, Tim. Even if some of those- walls are Matilda's own, even if ahe did lay some of the stones with her bare bnda, it's not the same. I found that out at Bramber and Abergavenny. And so much of this is of a later date. No, I don't want to go inside.' Tim nodded. 'Shall we go and look for a nice pub then?' Jo had walked a few paces from him lring up at the high stone wall. They were in Castle Lane, a narrow street where the buildings on the north-east side were overshadowed by the high walb of the ruin which faced them. She was staring up, her eyes focused on an empty arched window high in the crumbling walls. Quietly Tim raised his camera. She did not notice, her attention riveted to the greying stone. 'Jo?' Tim said quietly after a moment. At first she did not appear to have heard him then she turned. She smiled uncertainly. 'I thought for a minute...' He was putting his camera away. 'Don't worry about it. It come if it's going to. Bill Walton says self-hypnosis is the other sort, but you can't force it, You will learn or it will come by itself-' .'It's not self-hypnosis, Tim, I told you, I never tried to do it except just now by the river.' She stopped 'When did you talk to Bill Walton about it?' 'A few days ago.' He led the way round the foot of the wall. [...' He glanced back at her sheepishly. 'I had a go myself.' Jo stared at him 'you mean you were regressed' He nodded. 'And?' ; 'It didn't work.' He lifted his camera bag on his shoulder. I want food.' How could he tell her about what had happened in that room in Richmond? The whirling black the fear and anger which had possessed him, frustration and, at last, the realm of failure which had pursued him through life after life, spun, without identity, down through the centuries. He shook his head wearily, following Jo back down the pavement which led from the High Town down the river. He had gone back. Twice. And on neither had he been coherent or co-operative. The second he had cried. He knew he would not try again. church was very cool atter the heat of the morning. themselves in, Jo and Tim stared round. 'There she is,' Jo whispered. Near the west wall lay the of a huge, worn stone effigy, barely recognisable as approached it slowly and J'o stooped and rested. hmd on the stone. "Moll Walbee,' she said quietly. 'I if it.is her?' Tim was looking at the leaflet he had picked up by the 'It says not, here,' he said. 'It says it is the figure They both stood in silence looking at the imost featureless them, its worn head resting on a pillow of stone. Tim chuckled. 'If it was her you can see why she was reputed to have been a giant. That bit alone must be over four feet long and it's only half of her - or him.' He raised his camera and took a shot of Jo as she crouched over the figure looking down at it, her hands resting on the smooth stone, her eyes lowered, her long dark hair hanging loose over her shoulders. She closed her eyes, trying to will some kind of warmth into the cold hardness beneath her hands. The church was completely silent. Tim did not move, watching the woman who, in her cool green linen dress, was as unmoving as the recumbent figure beside her, her tanned skin taking on the tones from the shadows of the nave. He found he was shivering and he fingered the top buttons of his shin, drawing them almost defensively together. Jo's eyes were still closed. He stared at the dark lashes lying on her cheeks and fought the sudden urge to touch her shoulder. 'Oh Christ: Thy won't it happen:' Jo cried suddenly. She sJmmed her fists down on the effigy. 'I've got to know, Tim. I've got to. If it won't happen here, where will it?' She stared round the church. 'I'll have to go ba to Carl Bennet. I thought I could manage without him- I wanted to do it alone ' 'Perhaps that's it, Jo,' Tim said quietly. 'Perhaps you need to be alone. Perhaps it's because I'm here.' 'Perhaps it is.' She swung to face him. 'Perhaps it's because I want to cash in on it. I wanted to follow Bet's advice and do the nicles for her. aen she mentioned a book and even TV the idea excited me. I wanted to use all this, Tim. And it has spoiled it. It has made it eoutrived. Like you and your camera. You have no place here, Tim!' 'I have, Jo.' He turned away from her and sat down in one of the pews, staring up towards the dark, triple arched chancel, with his back to her. 'I do have a place her.' 'I don't believe you.' She glared at him. 'I should never asked you to come!' She scrambled to her feet and towards the door, pulling it open and disappearing out into the sunhlne. Behind her, Tim sat unmoving, listening to the echoing silence as the sound of the falling latch died beneath the church's vaulted roof. Jo walked swiftly across the grass, swinging her bag, seeing it scattering the seedhels of the dandelions as she headed towards the overgrown untended half of the churchyard which sloped down steeply round the north side of the church. Somewhere nearby she could hear the gurgling of a brook. It was very hot indeed. The morning haze had cleared,,way and the full heat of the sun beat down on the top of her hei. She could feel the sudden perspiration on her hack and between her breasts as she stopped and looked round. The churchyard was deserted. There was no sign of Tim. With a sigh she pushed her way through knee-high wild grasses, threaded with meadowsweet and campion and buttercups, and sat down on one of the ancient lichen-covered tombs, beneath a yew tree, dropping her bag on the grass. She opened the top buttons of her shin-walster, and turned back the collar the hair offher neck as she stared up through the green of the tree towards the metallic blue of the sky. It 'was here, or somewhere very cioe to this spot, that Jeanne was buried. She could hear the drowsy cooing of a woods tree ne"by. Closing her eyes, she leaned back, letting the dappled ' acro her face. The hall of the castle was crowded, wisped with smoke the fires as the diners sat st the long tables. It was the --ofl7. Matilda was seated at the high table, next to her hus and on her right was Gerald, Archdeacon of Breck Beyond William was Baldwin, the Archbishop of looks tired. He did not expect his preaching of the Third Crusade in Hay to be greeted by a riot!' Mtilda smiled. 'The men of Hay so eager to follow the croas, their wives so eager to stop them! It was ever so, I fear.' She broke off, biting her lip. William had been conspicuous amongst the men of the Border March in not volunteering to go to rescue the Holy City from Saladin. Gerald noticed her silence at once and guessed the reason for it. 'The King has need of Sir William at home, my lady,' he said gently. 'Your husband will give money to the cause, which is as welcome as his sword.' 'Even Lord Rhys and Einion of Elfael pledged their swords!' Matilda retorted. 'And William dares to call them savages -' She broke off, glancing at William to see if he had heard, and hastily changed the subject.. 'Tell me about yourself, Archdeacon. Are you content? You seem to he high in the Archbishop's favour.' His piercing eyes had lost none of their alertness and never ceased probing the men around him, but now they confronted her quietly as he wiped his lips on his napkin and reached for his wine. 'I am never content, Lady Matilda. You should know that by now. I serve the King and I serve the Archbishop, but I will confess to you a certain restlessness, a lack of fulfilment.' He put down his goblet so abruptly it slopped on the linen cloth. 'God needs me as bishop of St David's!' he said vehemently. 'Wales needs me there. And yet, still I wait!' He took a deep breath, steadying himself with an effort. 'But, I have continued with my work. And always I write. That has brought me much solace.' He glanced past her at the Archbishop. 'Tomorrow we go on to my house at Llandden: the Archbishop has graciously consented to spend the night there before going on to Brecknock and I have decided to present him with my work on the Topography of Ireland. Did you know I was there with Prince John three years ago?' He shook his head wearily. 'A fiasco that expedition turned out and no mistake, but it showed me Ireland again. And my book has been well received.' 'You sound as though you dislike the King's-youngest son,' Matilda said cautiously, lowering her voice again. Gerald shrugged. 'One does not like or dislike. He offered two bioprics tilere. But I want St David's, so I declined them.' He smiled ruefully. 'He is young yet, but he is spoiled. s intelligent and shrewd, but he showed himself no in Ireland. Perhaps Normandy will teach him He turned and waved a page forward, holding out his cup be refilled with wine. 'But now, with two of his elder dead, John becomes a man of importance. He is the throne now than he might ever have hoped. His is old, Geoffrey's son is a child.' He shook his head 'And Prince Richard is not yet married, in spite John may yet come to be a force to be reckoned with.' Matilda shivered. 'I don't trust him.' Gerald smiled at her shrewdly. lqor I, my dear. We shall have to hope that maturity will bring better counsel.' He his napkin and placed it on the table. 'Now let us speak your family are. What is the Matilda frowned, troubled again. 'There I need your You spoke with the Prince Rhys at Gruffydd yester Is he a good man, do you think?' Gerald frowned. 'A strange question. As you said, he . up the cross.' He smiled at her. 'And his son-inEinion, too. I remember you feared him once, for your sake.' He put his hand on hers as it lay on the table. it's not just that, I can see. What troubles you, my lady?' i'He and William have been discussing an alliance.' She at the white cloth, her mouth set in a hard line. wants niy little Matilda for wife for his son Grnffydd. told me that whatever he thinks of the Welsh he It is the King's wish.' shrugged. 'Gruffydd,' he mused, 'is named his heir. He's not as handsome as his brother Cwnwrig, and strong and he's able to cope with the quarrels with his brothers. They fight endlessly you know, the sons of Rhys. They turn the poor man white-haired with worry. He'd probably make the child a good husband.' 'I'm afraid for her, Gerald. I have kept my children safe from inion and from the rest of Seisyll's kinsmen and now I'm to be asked to give her to Rhys with my own hnds.' She t-timed to him, suddenly passionate. 'Swear to me, Archdeacon. Will she be safe?' Gerald raised his hand placatingiy. 'How can I swear? I know Rhys to be a man of excellent wit. He's honest, discreet, I believe him to be sincere in his quest for peace. More than that I can't say, although he is my cousin. He wants this marriage obviously to seal this uneasy peace we have on the borders, to make sure the ga/anas never reappears between your houses. I suspect the power of de'Brame is the nearest challenge to his, so he is anxious to secure a peace with you. What better way than by marriage? But all you can have is his promise. It is more than many mothers get.' He glanced down the hall to where ten-year-old Matilda ate at one of the lower tables with her nurse: Her two eldest brothers William and Giles were pages now in neighbouring lda, as was the custom, while Reginald, her third brother, hovered at a high table proudly serving the Archbishop. Matilda's two youngest children, Isobel and Margaret, were in the nursery lodgings in the west tower. They were a happy, healthy brood of children, some of whom Gerald himself had beptised. He glanced fondly at their mother. She was a young woman, still no more than twenty eix or seven, he guessed, as erect and slim as ever in spite of all the children. He watched her for a moment as she too gazed down the hall at Matilda. It was a miracle that she had not as yet had to bear the grief of the death of a child. He sent up a brief prayer that she would never be broken by such a loss. Matilda's gaze went down through the smoky, torch-lit hall to fix on her daughter's face and, as if feeling her mother's scrutiny, tittle Tilly raised her eyes. They were clear, almost 410 colourless grey. For a long momerlt mother and. daughter looked at one another. Then Tilly turned away. Matilda felt her heart tighten beneath her fibs. Always that indifference, that unspoken rejection. Her thoughts spiralled back to Jeanne, all those years before. It is the child herself who will betray your secret. But how could she, when she didn't know? Matilda bit her lip. In the last ten long years she had seen to it that she and Richard had never again been alone together. She had ignored the longing in his eyes and fiercely resisted the anguished burning of her own body. There was no way that Tilly could ever have guessed how much her mother loved the courteous, handsome visitor who from time to time came to see them at one or other of their castles. 'You sigh, my lady.' Gerald brought her attention gently back to himself. 'There is no need. I feel sure Gruffydd will be kind to her.' Matilda forced herself to smile, She nodded. 'You are right, of course, Archdeacon.' She felt his eyes probing hers and immediately her wary fear returned that he could read her thoughts; that he might even suspect that Tilly wasn't William's child. Desperately she tried to distract him, suddenly very afraid. 'Tell me, Archdeacon, do you intend to writea book about your trip round Wales with HIS Grace, the Archbishop?' she aaked quietly. 'It would make a fascinating account, I feel You could include that shameful ene in the church at St Mary's this afternoon.' She smiled, and saw at once the bait was taken. His eyes lit up and he was leaning her, his face intense with excitement Surreptitiously she glanced back towards her eldest daugh Sure enough, the huge grey eyes were once more on her mother's face. This time Matilda saw not , but fear, and - was it longing? candlelight was flickering in her eyes. Angrily she raised to her face, shielding it as she turned hack to Gerald 411 but he wasn't there. A figure was kneeling before her in the sunlight, camera raised. She blinked. 'Tim?' 'Welcome back.' He took another picture and then reluc umtly lowered the camera. 'How long have I been sitting here?' 'About an hour.' 'I was at dinner...' 'With Giraldus Cambrensis. I am very impressed with Jo stored at him. 'How do you know?' 'I asked you where you were. You seemed to hear me quite clearly. You talked very logically, describing what happened here in the churchyard- the riot and the way the Archbishop had to race-back to the castle, and the incident where, man tried to get through the gate to give his oath to take up the cross and only made it at the cost of losing his trousen-' He chuckled. 'You know of course that Gerald took your advice. He wrote an account of his trip through Wales - the I6nerary, it's called. It is still in print today.' He grinned. And you photographed me?' 'That is what I'm here for, Jo.' bit her lip. 'It makes me feel so vulnerable.' q3ly your expression.' ++,q3ki I talk about my daughter?' 'You dido' Tim stood up abruptly, dusting the grass from hit knees. 'The hltd who made a cuckold of de Braose.' Jo started visibly. 'I said that?' . "You must have, love, mustn't you?' His voice was very d., 'Imagine lit-de Titty going to m,rry a Welsh prince.' .:'she did.' Jo rose stiffly from her uncomfortable seat on th old tombstone. 'My grandfather reckoned the Cliffords wege ,eed from a Wet-h prince, Tim. Perha[ that is of Mati/da and Richard de Clare!' She paused for a 412 Tim smiled almost wistfully. 'And you are pleased that you She nodded. 'I have to fred out what happened. Whether g:.T.my married Rhys's son. In a way I hope she did. I'm ;mug to feel rather pro-Welsh - I l'e the'idea that I could be : descended from a prince. Perhaps I could ring David Pugh ask him to look it up in his books. I promised I would ring them while we were down here. But dear God[ To sacrifice such a child to dynastic ambition. It wascruel.' 'You said she was a strange little girl?' Jo nodded. 'She was distant. Cold. Self-pmsessed. Hot - .like the boys who romped around like puppies. Yet not like Richard either.' She glanced up at him with a rueftd little smile. 'Did William ever find out she wasn't his?' Jo shrugged. 'I can't see into the fuxre, Tim. It doesn't say so in the books that I know of, but I can't believe that he didn't guess. She was so different from the others. So fair.' 'And Richard was fair?' Jo nodded. 'Fairish.' 'And you are still fond of him?' 'Matilda you mean? She still loved him.' Her voice betrayed sudden pain. 'That was why Tilly was so special.' She picked a stem of soft creamy meadowsweet from the long grass near her, twisting it between her fingers. Tim was watching her with half-closed eyes. 'Where does lqick fit into all this, Jo?' he asked suddenly. She stared -at him. 'Nick? He .has nothing to do with it.' 'Are you sure?' He began to lead the way slowly through the grass towards the wrought iron gates which led out of the churchyard into the road. 'I think he is involved - I think he is aiso living ,gain. x am, Jo.' She stopped dead. 'Is that why you went to see Bill Walton? To see if you had rived at the utme time as me?' Tim nodded slowly. 'But you said it didn't work.' 'That wasn't quite true, Jo. I didn't go into a full-blown 413 regression like you, but something did happen. It's not the first time, you see. I've had a feeling for a long time thlt I've lived before. Not just once, but many times. I've read a lot about it - particularly about Buddhism and I've been taught to meditate and to try to contact my past incarnations through meditation. The Tim Heachn no one knowsF His smile did not quite reach his eyes.. 'I thought it might help me to come to terms with the present if I could find myself in the past. I went to see Bill to see if he could make things a bit clearer. 'And did he?' Jo whispered. He ook his head. 'I went back twice alter I went with you, hoping he could sort me out. But my ,alter egos or whatever you like to call them were too agry, too unforgiving, to emerge peacefully.' He snapped offa frond from a sweeping branch of yew as they wlked slowly past it. 'My previous incarnations were fnll ofanguih, Jo. FUll of failure and betrayal.' 'But who were you?' Jo w staring at him. 'Why don't I Tim grinned bitterly. 'Perhaps because we were not des tined to play a part together. Theh or now.' I 'And you think Nick is?' Tim eyed her silently. Then'he nodded. Jo swallowed nervously. Nick's been behaving we strangely. I wonder if he suspects.' 'He would have to be very unimaginative not to.' 'Who w he, Tim?' Tim shrugged. 'You have the ct list, not me. The only thing we both know is that you don't seem to resemble /lda physically all that much. You're not her double or anything - at let, not as fr as you know, are you?' Jo smiled. 'Well, I'm not eight feet tall, as David said she 'But your hair, your eyes. If you were in a film would you and she be played by the same actress?' 'I don't know. I'm darker, I t-bink. Matilda's hair was much brighter- almet auburn. I don't know about her eyes. I don't remember ever staring at myself in a mirror for long - 414 the mirrors weren't very good, anyway. They were metal, not glass. You'd hare to ask someone.' 'Richard de Clare?' He smiled gravely. 'Well, not Willie-m, that's for sure. Oh Tim, dght person for this to happen to! I've no sense of I think karma and kismet and things like that are a load of bullshit. Easy ways out. "If it's destiny then there's nothing I can do about it." That's a cop out. Not for me,' 'And of course, you have never had the feeling that you've been here before.' 'Never! I don't believe in sentiment and woolly roman Tim. I'm Jo Clifford, remember?' . 'How could I forget?' He rumpled her hair affectionately. you mean to fight destiny if it dares to rear its woolly head in your direction?' Jo nodded emphatically. Then she frowned. 'You think it ll?' He nodded, not smiling. 'I think it already has, Jo. I think is assembling. We know that something pretty grim to Matilda. She was betrayed by her husband and :by her friends and she was murdered, probably at the King's Maybe - just maybe - her soul has been crying out 'Tim!' at him, appalled. She shuddered. 'You're For a moment he said nothing, his eyes fixed on the road of them as they turned out of the churchyard and fol towards the town centre, then he grinned. 'It's dram-tic theme for your book!' . 'It's horrible. It's grotesque. You think you're here for me on you? You and who else, for God's -he? do youhink Nick was?' told you, I don't know. Forget it, Jo! Calm down. I was : 'You weren't. You were damn serious. So, tell me. Who He shrugged. 'I really can't even guess. Perhaps Judy? 415 Perhaps Bet? People you know. Pete Levesou?' 'And Nick.' He nodded. 'And Ni.' ,And you think Matilda is out for revenge, through me?' Tim stopped. He caught her arms and spun her round m the was thining directly into her face. For several :ouda he gated at .her intently then released her. 'No. lqo, I don't think Ilhe is. I think you are aa helple in b, as the rest of us.' He touched her cheek gently with his finger. 'I was tarry to hear about the Deo account.' Bet met Nick's gaze challengingly in the dim light of the saloon bar. Behind him along the edge of the canopy over the beer pump a line of pewter tankards gleamed soRly. They swung gently in unhou as a tall head brushed ainst one and the burnished anrfaces winked and rippled. Nick inclined his head slightly. 'I hope to be replacing it almost at once.' Bet smiled. 'I've no doubt you will. But you must keep a tighter rein on that partner ofyoun.' Nick frowned. There were taut lines of strain around his eye. He looked pale and tired. 'It. was bad lick, Bet. No more.' 'There's no room for bad luck in thi game, lqick. You know that as well as I do. Tell me,' she changed the subject almost too abruptly, 'how is She was watching him cloeely but his expression gave noth Lag away. He raised his glass lowiy. 'As far as I know she is well.' 'Some time ago you asked me to suppress an article she wanted to write.' Nick swallowed his drink and put the down, fitting it meticulously into the wet ring it had left on the table. He miled coldly.'A request you saw fit to ignore.' 'I am Jo'e editorg Nick. Not her wet nurse. If she wants to write somet-hin and I think it is good, I'll publish it. It is good. Damn good. And you know it.' 'Good for the circulation of IPlA maybe.' Nick's eyes suddenly, and meeting his gaze Bet felt herself 'You're a selfish bitch, Bet Gunning,' Nick went on. venom in his voice, but nevertheless she shifted in her seat." 'No. I'm a damn good editor.' 'Maybe. I'm glad I'm not one of your writers.' i 'You could be.' She held his gaze steadily. 'Your version of happening to Jo.' For a moment she thought he hadn't heard her. His eyes to be looking straight through her, then abruptly he the bartender. He ordered new drinks for them I 'Where is Jo?' he said at last. She drew her new glass towards her. 'Out of London.' 'Did she tell you what happened?' 'Between you? Yes.' 'And you believed her, ofcourse.' 'Of courseo' 'Are you going to tell me where she is?' 'No.' 'I'll try and fred her, you know.' 'Why bother? There are other people around who won't run away.' He grinned, looking suddenly boyishly handsome. 'Why, Gnning, I do believe the thought of violence rams you 'I ILke my men to be men.' She raised an eyebrow. 'Just so only for playtime.' She nodded towards barman, indicating their empty glasses. 'My round this I think.' 'So, we're allowed to spank you at playtime, then when the rings for nursery tea it's back in the cupboard, Master whilst Ms Gnnnin go back to being the bo?' 'Somethln$ like that.' She watched his hand on the bar, the tanned fingers gently drnmming a silent rhythm, spell out the suppreed tension inside him. She raised her eyes 417 lowly m him. 'I've always felt you and I could amuse one nother, Nick.' 'I'm sure we could.' He took up the fresh as it was shed to them acro the counter, watching as Bet rumaged around in her bag for her purse. 'But I have no wish to muse Jo. She needs to be brought to heel. She has defied nd humiliated me long enough!' 'Christ, Nick! That's a bit heavy.' Bet's flirtatious mood anished. Nervously she dropped her pure back into the hag nd reached for her drink. 'You don't mean it.' 'Don't I?' He looked at her enigmatically. 'Perhaps not. I the it he has gone hack to Wales?' 'She's working, Hick. Give her a break. She's a fnt-rate uudist and her work is important to her. SO is finding out bout Lady Matilda. You can't stop her. She is going to he top and you've either got to learn to live with it, or you've m to find another womo.' Nick was watching her thoughtfully. 'And you are variable?' She smiled. 'I !1d be.' .. 'What about Tim Heacham? I thought you and he were iving together.' She shook her head. 'I've cooked him Saturday supper and iunday lunch from time to time. It amused us both, but he's m other arrangements at the moment.' She smiled know gly. Then she leaned forward and put her hand on his knee. hall I cook you dinner this evening?' "Hot this ewening, Bet.' He smiled faintly. 'I'm flattered nd of cour I'm tempted, but just at the moment I have ther pbm. And they involve Jo.' Bet moved away from him slightly. 'So. DoYOu love her?' He didn't reply immediately. 'She's with Tim. But of course you'd guessed that,' she said ofdy. She watched for his reaction through narrowed eyes. He gave a half smile. 'She's not interested in Tim. If he's fith her it's for work. Are they in Hay?' 'You're not thinking of going dowo there?' Bet wag watch his eyes. The harme had returned and it made her 'I may.' He pushed away his fl-. The drink was barely 'I don't know what I'm going to do.' He stood up. Bet's wrist as she toyed with the stem glass. 'I nearly killed Jo the other night. Did she tell you Ma Gunning? We weren't playing your mphisticated She. wasn't enjoying what I did to her, but she had me. She slept around then taunted me with what she She's playing a dangerous game. So ff you see her I do, you had better warn her of the fact..' He turned . then he stopped and looked back at her. 'Did I been playing the field?' Bet shook her head. 'She hasn't, lqick I'm -' 'You're sure?' He took a step back towards her. 'You've ent Tim Heacham, knowing he'd give his right arm to with her. You offer to me ou a slab like a hunk of r should he he any different?' Two spots ofcolour showed on Bet's cheeks. She kept a tight anger. 'Because she is different; Nick, and you know sleep around. Not the way I do. OK, imult me if got a thick skin. But leave Jo out of it.' 'She told me about it, Bet.' He gave her a look of withering Bet stared at him. 'Who is it?' she whispered. His knuckles wet white as he clenched his ts. 'Richard,' 'His name is Richard.' stared aler him as he turned away out of the gilded doors. Already the seat next to hers had been taken and shisper. 'Christ Almighty, lickl Richard is a a cab back to the office, paying the driver with hak hands then she caught the lif up to her office, not even hear. the cheerful banter of one of her colleagues as he got in 419 phone. The number Jo had given her was scribbled in the back of her address binder. She bit her lip as the phone rang, hitching herself up onto the desk. 'Mrs Griffiths?' she said at last as the number was answered. 'Please, I must speak to Miss Clifford. Is she there?' 'I'm sorrY. She and the gentlem-n have left.' The Welsh voice rang out loudand clear in the quiet ofi3ce. 'Going on to :!- 'Raglan?' Putting down the receiver, Bet stared at it il blankly. 'Dear God, I hope it's a long way away.' She stood up and walked across to the window, gnawing her thumbnail as she stared down at the broad glitter of the Thames. In spite of the heat of the afternoon she was feeling very cold. Tim was ging up at the massive grey ruins of Raglan Castle. 'I'm glad your friend Pugh told us to come here,' he said in awe. 'It's magnificent.' Then he glanced at her sideways. 'But you don't have to tell me. It's not your castle:' Jo laughed softly. 'It was too long ago, Tim. Of course everyt-ing has changed. Let's stay out here on the gnm - t for now.' He loked longingly over his shoulder at the castle. 'Why don't I go away? I could leave you to it, while I explore." She nodded. 'Good idea.' He looked down at her fondly as she knelt on the mossy then, camera in hnd he turned away and strode up the steep bank towards the enormous walls. Jo closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking slightly as deliberately she tried to empty her mind. The castle grotmds were silent. The air was heavy, the sky soft with deep black cloud. It was very hot. She forced her eyes open slowly, staring down at the grass, feeling the heat and her exhaustion overtake.her, suddenly fighting sleep. Tim was coming back. Out of the comer of her eyes she saw him walking towards her, tall, loose-limbed. She frowned. It soon; it should have taken him hours to go round the and she wasn't ready. Behind him she saw a flicker of dance for a moment behind the majestic walls of the lighting up the windows as though candles still burned black of the sky. Then she heard the music of 421 Matilda was standing resting her hand on the stones of the new high wall of Radnor Castle. It seemed strange that she could look out at the Welsh tents all around the castle, a sight she had dreamed of with dread for so long, and yet know them to be friends. The red prancing lion flag of Prince Rhys flew gaily in the cold wind near them, as she looked down at her small daughter who stood shivering at her side, her fur-lined mantle whipped open by the wind. 'Well,' she smiled. 'To think my little girl is to be a princess.' Tilly uncharacteristically groped for her mother's hand, giving rather than seeking comfort. 'I like Lord Rhys. He sent me a necklet of crystals.' The child gazed out towards the tents and pavilions encamped around them in the valley, her eyes shining. 'And I'm to have a white pony with scarlet harness and John Spang, the prince's fool, has promised me two puppies from his own bitch. I like him?, Matilda was staring at the heavy cloud which hung over the encircling mountain.% her heart heavy as Tilly prattled on. Then she stooped and kissed the top of her little girl's head. 'You'll be happy in your new home, Tilda. Lord Rhys will be a kind father.' Her voice broke at the word, and she fiercely blinked back her tears, turning her face away. 'Can I go and play with 'Sbel and Margaret now?' The child was itching to run off, uncomfortable as she sensed her mother's tightly controlled iery, not understanding. Matilda.forced herself to smile. 'Of course, darling. Run along. I'll come and kiss you goodnight later.' She did not let herself watch the small head as it darted from her side and ran down the stair inside the thick wall. Instead she turned back to watching the bleak hills beneath the threatening sky. It was not until very late that she took a candle and climbed slowly, her heavy blue kile gathered in her bond, to the little girls' bedroom high beneath the stone roof of the main keep. Tilly was already asleep, worn out with excitement, in the big bed which she shared with her sisters. Matilda tiptoed .towards the bed and saw Eleanor, the children's nurse, sitting the shadows beside the dying fu'e. The girl was sobbing ' into her apron. Matilda stopped, her heart beating fast. 'What is it, girl? :Why are you crying?' Her voice was sharper than she intended. Eleanor jumped and raised a reddened face from her lap. Oh, my ladyl' She screwed up her kerchief and rubbed her eyes with.it. 'My lady. I don't want to leave you all and go to them heathens.' She hugged herself as the tears began- to fall Matilda felt her heart sink, the tears rising unbidden her own lids. She swallowed hard. "Don't talk such nonsense, Eleanor. Rhys is a good Christian Prince. And he is a kind man. I should never let a child of mine go .to him otherwise.' She dropped her voice suddenly. 'I hope you let Tilda see you cry like that.' 'Of course not, my lady.' Eleanor sniffed indignantly. 'I would never let her, she's so happy about going.' She dissolved into tears again. Matilda crossed to the bed, looking at the three sleeping heads; Tilda serene and pale; Margaret with her shock of copper hair tossed on the pillow, so like her mother in miniature, nd tittle frail Isobel, no more t-hn- a baby, so happy to be promoted to her sisters' bed, not realising she had come so Margaret should not suddenly be alone. . Margaret had her arm protectively round 'the little girl's shoulders. But i Tilly slept apart, her to the others. Matilda wondered if she even realised that tomorrow she was to leave them. She slowlyto her knees beside the bed, swallowing hard,and herself quietly, she began to pray, suppressing the treacherous thought that far away in Dehenbarth Tilly would be able to betray neither her mother nor her true 423 ,'he wedding ceremonies were over and the feast had already isled an age. Matilda looked anxiously at her little daughter itting in the place of honour next to her husband. Gruffydd 7as good-looking young man, rather florid, with tightly .urling golden hair. He drank oilen and deeply and ate mngrily from the platter he shared with his new wife, Tilly tad touched almost nothing. She looked around her with rnnurally brilliant eyes, a deep flush on her usually pallid ..heeks. The crystals at her throat gleamed and reflected from he candelabra on the table and the pure gold band in her hair ,,lowed on the silk veil She looked, amongst the solid men md robust women at the high table, like a delicate little fairy. k#xatilda eyed the Princess Gwenllian, Gruffydd's mother, a .w-boned woman with eyes rather too close together over the igh-bridged no with unease. But she saw the woman lean ver and pat Tilda kindly on the shoulder, her eyes smiling, md she felt a little reassured. The wedding celebrations continued for several days, and then at last came the morning when the Welsh-party began to pack their tents and shelten. Matilda with William in Rhys's great pavih'on gravely kissed their solenm little daughter and her tall groom and watched as with the Prince Rhys and his glittering throng of followers they mounted and prepared for the ride to Rhys's palace of Llandovery in Cantref Bychan. 'So, that seals the peace as long as King Henry live, at least,' William commented tersely as they rode away. Matilda turned to him, her heart growing suddenly cold at his tone. 'And if the King should die, what then?' Wil!iam shrugged. 'Who knows? We'll pray he lives long and heartily. If he should die and Rhys and his sons do not acknowledge his heir, then I will have playedmy hand badly.' He frowned. 'Tilda will he all right, whatever happens. They will keep her away from the fighting if there is any. But, by Ged, if they try and use her against me...' He left his threat umpoken. ida found herself gazing at him in blank despair. Had i then washed his hands of the child the day she went to table? Was she nothing to him any longer other which he miht have carelely let slip in a chess more important pieces? She gazed into William's and shuddered. If his eldest daughter could look to no r from him who could? She silently prayedthat none of children should fred themselves dependent on mercy one day; nor she herself. Miserably she looked over her shoulder, back towards the where the sun wa sinking in a blaze of gold behind Rhys's mountains. Somewhere there, Tilda was alone. don't cy, love.' The voice was gentle. She felt an arm her shoulders. Tim was bringing her back, but she want to come. Frantically she resisted him fighting to the world from which he was dragging her. She could see the countryside wrapped in forest below the caetle on which she stood, whilst superimposed on it, like a were the ruined masses of another castle. The sky and she felt the scene shift gear before The wall beneath her hand had gone; she found she grass. :I want to know how TilIy is,' she cried miaerably, tl must I must find out what happened to her -' 'Jo, you will fred out.' Tim pulled her against him gently. later. Not now. Get up, love. It's beginning to rain. We'll back to the car and t'md somewhere to stay, all right?' her feet. ,Still dazed, she clung to him, as her knees threatened to way. She had begun to shake violently. Tim ahnot carried her back to her car, pushing her into the seat-as the rain began to fall in earnest, then he let on the driver's side. 'I'll fred a hotel for us, shall I?' said gently. 'A hot bath ands good dinner is what you at her as he leaned forward to turn on the igni was lying back in her seat, her eyes closed, her face 425 pale with exhaustion. `No more, Jo,' he said softly. 'It's taking too much out of you.' She smiled faintly. 'I'll be OK. After a good night's sleep. I'm just so very, very tired.' He drove for about twenty minutes through narrow lanes itt the teemlrt rain before drawing up outside a long white painted stone-built inn. He peered through the windscreen wipers at it and grinned. 'It looks nice. I can almost smell that dinner.' Jo smiled. 'Lead on then,' she said. But it was with an effort that she climbed out of the car after him. The landlord, was a tall, florid man of about fifty, who greeted them like long-lost friends. 'The be=t dinner in Gwent, I can give you,' he said to Tim with confidential modesty, as Jo sank onto the the in the dark hallway. 'And I've a cellar here would make some of your London hotels green with envy, man. There's only one problem. I've just got the one room free, see? A double it is. But just the one.' Tim glanced at Jo. Then he nodded. 'We'll take it.' She did not protest. A hot bath and a change of clothes in the low-ceilinged, whitewashed bedroom and Jo was bennin tO feel herself again. She grinned at Tim. 'I'll toss you for that sofa thing later.' He grimaced. 'You won't have to. I'll do the gendemanly thing and volunteer.' They both looked at the small two-seater settle by the window with its worn to//e de met cover. Jo laughed. 'And you owe six feet tall. Perhaps we can put a bolster down the bed in the best tradition.' 'No need. I shall take a temporary oath of abstinence. Anything that would be more comfortable t-ha, this bed of Procrustes.' He slapped the arm of the sofa. 'I'll trust you then.' She laughed. 'Come on. Let's eat.' The meal was all they had been promised and more. Looking round the small dining room Tim let out a contented groan. 'I h=ll recommend this place to Egon Ronay.' Jo leaned forward to top up his wine glass. 'Don't. It will be swamped witlz horrible townies and spoiled. This must stay a secret. Just ours.' She yawned. 'But, nice as it is, Tim, I think I'm going to have to go to bed. I'm completely exhausted.' He nodded. 'I think you hould. You stig look shattered. Go on up. Jo. As it's stopped rinlng I shall go for a bit of a Jo stumbled up the narrow twisting staircase to their room. on the light, she stared round it. There was little The large old-fashioned bed, with a candlewick an Edwardian dressing-tsble and chair and the the window. On the polished floor there was a rush With a sigh she slipped off her clothes and put on her -- silk dressing-gown. She brushed her hair slowly then, pulling one of the books from her tote bag, she flung herself down by the window. The casement was open, looking out over a small back ;arden. Beyond the drystone wall the hillside stretched downward into the shadows of the valley. In the silence she thought she could hear the sound of a stream out of sight in darkness. Slowly she opened the book, frowning as a moth in through the window and blundered towards the lamp biography of King John. She picture of him on the cover. It showed an elegant wearing a crown. She turned slowly to the illus in the book, staring at statues, sketches, even coins. One thing they all seemed to agree about. had been a good-looking man. A straight nose, a firm bearded- and deep-set arrogant eyes. eyes with a shiver. This was the man who ordered Matilda's death. She glanced up at the window again, staring at the rain they fell, huge and wet, onto the sill. Then with an she tore her gaze away. She forced her eyes open as the book slid from her hands to the floor. She did not to pick it up. She stared round the room. The walls to he moving sfightly in the shadows; the floor rippled. She pushed herself up on the sofa, clutching at its back, and put her hands over her eyes, rubbing them violently, trying to swing her feet to the mat but somehow they would not obey her. They felt heavy as if they no longer belonged to her. Her head was hammering and once again she was conscious of a strange flickering behind her eyes. l.=h,usted she fell back, her head on the shiny material of the sofa arm and, defeated, she clmed her eyes. The borders ,thimmered beneath the burnished August sky as Matilda and William and their attendants rode towards Marlborough for the royal wedding. It was a long time since Matilda had thought about the girl who was soon to become John's wife. It pained her to think of the child she remem be.red- small, frail and very frightened- being linked for ever with the volatile prince, a prince who was now heir to the throne after his father's death and the succession of his The Downs refleaed the beating sunlit as the horses wearily made their way towards the encampment around the abbey outside the walh of Marlborough. The pennants and the flags hung limp and nnmoving from the tents and flag. Everywhere horses and men stood dajeaed and hausted in the heat. In the centre of the encampment the pavilion stood open and empty. Prince John had taken a few companions and gone into the forests, seeking the cool of the shade. In the Countess of Gloucester's quarters, late at night, after William had gone off to roister with the prince and his cronies, Matilda found Isabella, seated quiet and pale before a polished mirror, looking in somhing like woude as a lady combed out her pale silver h,i,-, fingering her silky tresses as though she had never seen them before. Beside her on the stool sat another girl, almost as fair, almost as delicate; a little taller, with watchful dark eyes. She was patting her sister's arm reassuringly when Matilda was shown in and Matilda saw her eyes at once seek her own in the mirror, hostile and This then was Amicia, Isabella's sister, the girl she now knew for sure, was to mrry Richard de Clare. Refusing to meet the glance in the mirror, Matilda went to arm round Isabella's thin shoulders and dropped a on the fair head. Isabella looked up and smiled weakly. 'I'm glad you've 'I promiai, didn't I?' Matilda took the comb from the and gently continued combing, drawing the fair hair girl's hot face. 'And you'll attend me tomorrow, in the abbey?' 'Of course.' Matilda tried to smile at Amicia. 'Do you sister too?' she asked quietly. At once the eyelids I do my duty, madam, mother demands of me.' 'Where is Lady Gloucester?' Matilda couldn't help won' the woma-n wasn't with her daughter at a time like Amicia shrugged. 'We see little of our lady mother, Since our father died, she prefen the company of and of course, of the Prince.' Her voice was heavy with innuendo. In the mirror Matilda saw the sister blanch. The girl's hands, clasped in her lap, at the knuckle, and she felt a rush of sympathetic It was insufferable that this small delicate girl should linked with someone as insensitive and boorish as Prince 'I hope, Lady Matilda,' Amicla went on, not taking her eyes s face in the mirror, 'that you will do me the me at my wedding. I know Sir Richard pleased. You are, I believe, such an ok/friend.' Matilda cohld feel a flush of anger mounting in her cheeh, she instantly wanted to give hun for hun. 'I shall be dear. It will after all be rather an anticlimax your sister has wed a prince.' She was sorry that she had said it. Isabella gave a little gasp, look at her sister pleadingly, while Amicla, white with fury, 429 rose to her feet and swung for the first time to look Matilda in the face. 'Prince John isa brute, madam, and a cruel man with women, as everyone knows.' She looked coldly at her trembling sister. 'I wish Isabella joy of him. I shall have a kind and gentle husband. But then,' she almost spat the words, 'you would know all about the qualities of Sir Ricliard, madam.' Gathering her rich green skirts about her she swept out through the curtained doorway, leaving the other two to gaze at each other in horror. Isabella's eyes were fdled with tears. 'I don't know what's happened to Amicia. She used to love me.' 'She's jealous of you, child.' Matilda took the elder sister's place on the stool and put her arm round Isabella. 'Can't you see? Her younger sister is marrying a royal prince. It is more than she can bear.' 'And she's jealous of you because you,re so beautiful and the world says Sir Richard loved you once.' Once. Matilda's arm fell away from the girl's houlders. Yes he had loved her once. She had thought he loved her still. It had been that knowledge which had fiolstered her during the long lonely nights when she had had to submit to Williarn's rough attentions, and which had somehow comforted her againlt all his abuses when he was drunk. She shivered suddenly. She had not realised that anyone else had ever guessed their love. But these two people knew. Isabella, who would be the wife of the prince, and Amlcia, who was to marry Richard. And if they knew her secret, how was it possible that the rest of the world did not know it too? Above the, camp the stars were .ous in the bronzeblack arch of the sky. She stopped for a moment on her way back to the de Braose tents to gaze up at it, feeling the immensity of it above her, quietly soothin her. A sfight breath of hot air, almost a breeze, stirred the skirt of her gown for a moment, then the night was still again. 'Do you find it hard to sleep, Lady Matilda?' She started at the deep voice at her elbow, and then recoguising with a shock the figure of Prince John in the shadows, she low. 'I was returning to our tents, sir, after visiting your bride.' frowned. She could see his face quite clearly in the starlight, strong and clean-cut, with the arched and heavy high-bridged nose of the Plantagenets. HIS had broadened with manhood and the hot lqorsun had tanned his face m a uniform darkness. He at her, showing white, even teeth. 'How is my little Still shaking at the thought of the ogre she must frets at his mocking tone. 'She is very Your Highness, and very shy. You must give her 'She has had time. Ten years to get used to the idea.' 'She has aim had ten years to brood over the cruelty you John threw back his head and laughed. 'I had no idea I had any impression on her at all at Gloucester. So much the see you are sorry for her, Lady Matilda. I think you spare me some sympathy. Imagine being married to little milksop. Can you see her in bed? Can you see her mother of strapping sons?' John laughed bitterly. 'I'll good Sir William had no such fears about you on eve of his wedding! He glanced at her sideways. 'But he went on, following his own train of thought, 'I must It is imperative that I secure my own line...' He 'Are you coming to my brother's coronamadam?' She smiled, relieved by the sudden change of mood. 'You know, surely, that women are not invited, Your Highappears the King does not share your appreciation of John snored. 'True. The King wants it to be a sacred I would have women ff it were my coronation. me. I swear it.' He threw his arm round her shoulders roughly, and reached across to kiss her cheek. Then before she had a chance m struggle he released her abruptly and with another lightning change of mood turned away from her. 'You know that my brother is to marry at last? It was agreed before my father died. He and Alice, the daughter of the King of France, are to marry.' He gave a cynical laugh. 'My father no longer needs the lovely Alice to comfort him so he felt he could at last spare the lady to her rightful betrothed and houour the agreement with King Louis.' 'Sir!' Matilda was shocked. 'I can't believe that there was any truth in the rumours that your father loved Alice. Why, that's almost incestuous, his own son's betrothed. I'm sure you don't really believe it either.' John merely shrugged. 'My father was a passionate man. A great man in many ways.' He was thoughtful for a moment, gazing up at the burning heavens. 'He was a good king, my father.' Matilda stirred uncomfortably. She wanted to return to her tent. The Prince's moody company made her nervous; the camp seemed totally deserted. She wondered too what he was doing out here by her tents quite unattended, and almost as though he had read her thoughts he smiled at her again, throwing offhis reverie. 'The banqueting hall was too hot for me. A stag-night roister is all very well but if the groom melts clean away before he gets to his bride it defeats its purpose, so I came out. Half the good fellows in there were asleep, your husband amongst them. The others are too hot to care and if they do they suspect me of going to find a f'mal friendly bed for the night.' He laughed again, a dry mirthless laugh. 'My last night with a real woman, before I have to commit adultery to gain satisfaction from my bed.' Another slight breeze stirred the pennants hang above the tents, and gently moved the skins of Matilda's kirtle over the ground which was beginning to gather dew. She felt herself grow suddenly cold. Taking a step away from him she quietly dosed her f'mgers on the folds of her skin, holding it clear, ready to run. She took a deep breath. 'It is late, Your and I attend your bride early in the morning. If you yet thanked you for your wedding gi/t,' he went as if she had not spoken. 'Three hundred cows and a fine bull, they tell me.' He smiled, his eyes blue slits, in the dark face, one eyebrow slightly raised. 'I'll that was your choice, Lady Matilda. I seuse.a touch of . there, lqo, my lady, I'll not excuse you, not yet.' His hand reached out, touching the shoulder of her gown. do you fear me?' he said tardy, 'I've not harmed you.' hands were on her shoulders, gently pulling her towards They were strong hands; the hands of a man. She raised her ey to look into his face. There was no sign of the boy she had so disliked, nor the importunate who had accosted her at Winchester. These thin, features were those of an adult, and, she suddenly r attractive. 'Your Highness.' She tried to draw back, but he was hold her too hard, his t'mgers digging into the flesh of her arms. hers. 'I have not dismissed you, my lady,' he breathed, qqor do I yet.' Mesmerised by the intense blue of his eyes she felt her lips at last with a shock of recognition. For a moment her seemed to cleave to his, then abruptly his strange spell a voice range out cool and loud from the dark 'Good evening, Your Hi.hneas, my lady.' John released her with an oath and whirled round, his hand to the hilt of his dagger. A figure had stepped out of the shadow of one of the pav and coming nearer, bowed low. As he stood up again, and slim beside the figure of the prince, Matilda saw with gasp that it was Richard de Clare. Richard bowed to her formally and distantly, and then again to the prince, grinning. 'We missed you in the and some were growing worried.' 'Indeed, Lord de Clare.' John's voice was low-pitched and very cold. 'It was good of you to volunteer to f'md me. As we are so soon to be brothers-in-law perhaps you felt a family feeling of protection?' Richard coloured a little at the note of sarcasm, but he bowed amiably enough. 'Shall I walk with you, sir? Lady Matilda looks tired..I'm sure she's anxious m get some rest.' Recovering herself as best she could Matilda swept a deep curtsey to the Prince, then she turned towards her own qnar ters, picking up her skirts as soon as she was out of sight and, careless of her dignity, ran towards the safety ofher tent. It was already growing dark, and the wedding celebrations were all but over the next day when at last Richard sought out Matilda from the thronging guests and guided her towards the shelter of a tall hedge threaded with honeysuckle and dog roses. His face was grim. "You're playing with fire when you flirt with John, surely you know that,' he began furiously. Matilda blushed. 'I did not flirt with him! He followed me. I had no wish even to talk with him, believe ne. I dislike that young man.' RicbCrd glanced over his shouider: 'Don't talk so loud,' he said anxiously. 'Well, he certainly likes you and it wouldn't do m make an enemy ofhim by showing you don't return his feelings.' He glanced at her obliquely. 'Are you suggesting that I...' 'I am suggesting nothing, Matilda. Just take care. Please.' He put his hand gently on her arm. Matilda pressed her own f'mgers miserably over his, swallowing the lump which came to her throat. 'I will take care, Richard, I know he's dangerous.' 'I leave tomorrow to attend the coronation.' His voice chopped almost to a whisper. 'Then I go to Cardiff. I am to marry ,miia of Gloucester within the month.' She felt rather than saw his eyes on her and blinked back her sudden tears. 'I know, Richard. I wish you every happiness.' She took a deep breath and turned away for a moment, trying to regain control over the misery which had welled up 434 was almost too great to bear. When she faced him was smiting. She broke off the delicate pink shell of rose and pushed, it gently into the clasp of his mantle. be friends, Richard dear.' She was almost as tall and gazing at him for a long, last moment she leaned suddenly and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, then fled. her maids away early that night and, blowing out lay dry-eyed in the dark, listening to the dis t shouts and music which floated across the encampment. she knew, was with the Prince. Richard too, she the three men withwhom her life seemed inextri bound, nking together at the banqueting board, each other into the night. lay for a long time fistening to the giggles of the two who attended her as they prepared for bed beyond the canvas partition in the tent, then gradually as they grew eyelids became heavier and eventually she dozed. was Gwenny, the elder of the two, who wakened her, shaking her shoulder in the dark. The camp was and the coals in the brazier beyond the tent flaps were dead. 'My lady, you're to come quickly.' The girl was with fear. Matilda sat up. 'What is it? What has happened?' She for her bedgown and wrapped it round her naked as the girl lit the candle by her bed. 'You're wanted, my lady. In the Countess of Gloucester's Quickly.' Gwenny was panting slightly, still shocked her own awakening by the Countess's terrified maid, the candlelight showed her round face plump and per as sh searched by the bed for the discarded leather 'Oh my lady, there is such trouble there, I hear.' trouble, girl, tell me?' Matilda pushed her feet into slippers and stood up, reaching for the candle. 'What's But Gwenny only shook her head dumbly, too terrified by which the maid had passed on to anyone who 435 tents. The guards at the entrance came to a salute as they passed through, their eyes curiously taking in the details of the two women in their nightclothes, and Matilda, her arm firmly round Isabella's shoulders, escorted her qnicldy from their gaze. John's servants, bowing, held hack the heavy tapestry hangings which covered the entrance to the sleeping area. 'Go to him' Matilda whispered. She glanced round nervously, not wanting the Prince to see her, but as she spoke a small plump woman appeared from the inner room and curtseyed. 'There you are, Your Highness,' she addressed Isabella, who stared at her blankly. 'The Prince your husband told me to come to keep you company and fetch you a hot posset. She heout her hnd and guided Isabella through the curtains. 'His Highness has gone for a ride. He said he doubted if he'd be back by morning, so you may sleep undisturbed tonight.' The woman was careful to keep any expression out of her voice but she glanced over Isabella's head at Matilda and made a wry face which Matilda guessed w intended to mean that the Prince had in fact said a.great deal more than that and at some length. She sighed, and gave the girl a gentle lush. 'Goodnight Isabella. Sleep well, love.' She watched for a moment as the woman bustled round fetching a jug of staining fragrant liquid and a goblet and then as Isabella climbed, still moving as in a dream, into the high bed, Matilda turned and pushed her way out of the room, suddenly stifled by its oppressive heat. She made her way quickly and nervously hack to the de Braose tents, half afraid she would be once more waylaid by the Prince, conscious suddenly of the black shadows behind the circled tents, of the grove of trees, the leaves unstirring in the windless air, and of the motionless encampment guards half dozing as they leaned on their swords. But in the event it was Richard who waylaid her. He stepped from the shadows, his finger to his tips and beckoned her after him into the shelter of the trees. 'I could not leaye like that,' he whispered. 'Not without just.one more.moment alone with you. Dear God! Why did we not meet each other in time!' The wind teased the streaming torch on the edge of the encampment near them and she saw the shadows playing on his face. 'It was not to be, love.' She put her hds on his shoulders. 'Maybe, one day ' He seized her hands, enfolding them in his own, holding them pressed against his chest. 'One day!' he echoed bitterly. 'When you belong to de Braose and when the Prince has already marked you for his own!' 'That's not true!' She pulled away from him violently. is nothing to me and I am nothing to him. lothing!' He was looking down at her, his eyes gleaming strangely in the torchlight. 'lothing?' he echoed. 'lqothin. [ swear by all I hold sacred!' He shook his head. 'Don't swear. You don't know what may happen. The Prince has power. Matilda.' He touched ii her hair gently. 'Dear God! I want to throw you on my horse and gallop away with you Take you-for my own!' For a moment she felt a blind excitement as the power of the passion in his voice flooded through her. Ifhe had aked then she would have gone, but his hands fell slowly to his and he shrugged. 'i am to be brother-in-law to the it Her eyes fdled with tears. 'As befits a great Earl,' she whispered. Forcing herself to smile she looked away. 'I must go in, Rchrd.' 'Ofcourte.' He took her hand.and raised it to his lips. 'I'll ee you again. Soon.' She nodded dumbly, then she turned away, pulling her around her as she dodged past the flare and into the came upstairs it was already dark. He had walked four miles down the valley and back, shrugging off the warm spots of rain and he was tired. He pushed open door quietly and glanced into the bedroom. Jo was asleep on the sofa, by the window. Her book had fallen to the floor. With a fond grin he picked it up and put it on the table without looking at the title, then he turned and, pulling a blanket from the bed, he tucked it gently round her. Then he paused, frowning as he looked down at her face. An expression of anguish.had crossed her features momentarily and as he took her hand, gently slipping it beneath the rug, he found her fists were clenched. 'Jo?' he whispered. 'Jo? Can you hear me?' She did not respond. She was breathing in tight, almost imperceptible gasps. 'Where are you, Jo?' he murmured, but she did not answer. He touched her face lightly than reached over to turn out the lamp. He undressed quickly in the dark and slid into bed, and lay listening, but Jo was completely silent. Not so much as a sigh me from her as she lay locked in that different world on the far side of the room. He must have dozed off after a while, fora slim moon had appeared at the window when he woke sudctenly. He gazed at the lnmlnous dial on his wrist. It was ten past three. Then he realised what had disturbed him. Jo was moving restlessly on the sofa. She moaned softly and hesaw her sit up,The blanket slid to the floor and she swung her bare feet off the seat and stood, staring round the room. 'Don't tell me it's your turn for the bed,' he said softly into the shadows. She did not reply. She moved towards him slowly, staring down at him in the watery moonlight. 'I thought you'd gone,' she whispered at last. 'Only for a walk.' He propped himself up on one elbow. 'Weren't you going after the Prince?' Tim froze. 'Jo?' he said softly. 'Jo, can you hear me?' She was half smiling, her eyes on his face. 'There's no one here,' she whispered. 'Oh Richard, please. Make love to me just once more. Surely it's no sin when we love each other so much. Tomorrow you can go. You'll be brother-in-law to the Prince. You'll be Amicia's forever. Give me just a few hours with the sash of her dressing-gown. his tongue over his dry lips. 'Jo,' he said hoarsely. I think you'd better wake up -' She opened the gown and let it fall to the floor. Beneath it was naked. He stared at her body, silvered in the thin and felt himself tense all over as she threw herself the bed and wriggled into his arms beneath the sheet. 'Richard! Oh Richard!' Her mouth sought his as his arms round her. 'Dear God, please hold me!' With a groan Tim lay back, gathering her against him, the silky weight of her hair slide over her shoulders his face and neck, blotting out the moonlight. kissed her again and again, threading his fingers her face still as her slim, warm body on his. He kissed her mouth, and her eyes, her neck and breasts, then catching her shoulders he turned her onto back, lying on top of her, his tongue probing between lips, feeling her legs fall willingly apart to receive It was daylight when he fell asleep at last, his arms still one thigh lying possessively across hers. He slept heavily, barely stirring when Jo slipped from the grabbing her dressing-gown, fled into the bathroom. She was fully dressed when he woke to the sound of a knock bedroom door. He watched sleepily as she took a tray their host and slid it onto the bedside table, then she sat on the bed beside him. She smiled wanly. 'So, you're awake.' Tim grinned. 'Barely. Is that early morning tea I see?' He slowly then he looked at her remorsefully. 'Jo, it was fault. I took advantage of you last night. I should have said I should have tried to wake you somehow -' 'I was awake.' Her face was drawn and tense. 'But I thought Richard. I wasn't in a trance, Tim. I knew I was in room. I knew we were in a pub. I knew this was the hands were shaking suddenly and she 441 clutched them together. 'But I was still Matilda. And you - you were Richard.' Tim gave a tight smile. 'Matilda was one hell of an uuin hibited lady. I'm not surprised Richard could never get her out of his system.' He smiled gently. Jo coloured violently. Reaching for the teapot she managed to pour out two cups, uing both hands on the china handle. He took his cup from her hastily and sat lning against the pillows, staring down into the tea. 'That was the last time they made love,' he went on quietly. She looked up. 'How do you know?' 'I just know. They weren't meant for each other.' He gave a rueful grin. 'Shame, isn't it?' She was staring at him. 'You were Richard de Clare,' she whispered at last. 'It did work with Bill Walton!, For a moment she thought he wasn't going to answer, then he nodded reluctantly. 'It's not as simple as that, though, Jo - Jo? hat is it?' She was crying, mddeuiy; soundless, exhausted weeping, the tears falling remorselessly down her cheeks. 'I thought it was lqick,' she said brokenly. 'Oh Tim, I'm sorry, but I so wanted it to be Nick.' 26 was lying on the sofa in his flat with his eyes closed, :luiet strains of Debussy when Sam let himself door and pulled offhis raincoat, shaking :in the hall before hangingit up. He appeared in the doorway brother in surprise. 'I thought you were offto New York today?' 'I've postponed the trip until the second.' Nick did not his eyes. 'That way I can see all the top men in one go. no point in going twice.' i. Sam raised an eyebrow as he crossed to the tray of drinks. doesn't sound E-ke my energetic baby brother. Do you a Scotch?' ,.lqick shook his head. 'I'm energetic when I need to be,' he 'It's just that there are a few things I want to sort out I go.' He sounded depressed. Sam was pouring himself a large gin. 'Would one of those he said softly. Nick altered the position of his head slightly so that he watch Sam as his brother walked to the window. storm was brewing and the light outside was as the cloud billowed up over London from the 'I used to think you were quite fond of her,' he said 'But you're not, are you.' Sam stiffened. 'What makes you think that?' ,Observation.' your powers of observation must be sadly awry. I very fond of her.' Sam was staring out at the thunder A flicker.of lightning lit the sky above the park, the trees fluorescent for a fraction of a second in of the bruised purple of the storm. 'It is you, brother, seems to be having trouble working out your feelings for You still need my help, I think.' He turned at last and at Nick. 'All that hostility is still there, isn't 'The hostility your hypnotism was supposed to cure?' Ignoring the warning which had begun to ring a bell in the back of his mind Nick sat up suddenly, thirsty after all, and levering him.elf offthe sofa, went to help him.lf tO a drink. He picked up the Scotch and unscrewed the bottle slowly. 'It didn't work, did it? I never thought you'd be able to do it. I doubt if I was even properly under.' Sam smiled. 'Oh, you were properly "under", as you put it. You just don't remember.' 'What was there to remember?' Nick asked sharply. 'I thought you said you hadn't regressed me.' Sam inclined his head. 'I said you were too tense, too screwed up, so I spent the time calming you dowo and getting you m relax. At least you must remember how rested you felt after I woke you up!, 'Did I?' Nick flung hiram.elf down on the easy chair by the stereo. 'Well, it didn't last.' 'Then perhaps I should doit again.' Sam perched on the edge of the coffee table, looking at him. 'hy don't we try and see what happens?' Nick gianced at him suspiciously, suddenly remembering his mother's anxiety. 'Why are you so eager to hypnotise me, Sam?' he asked after a moment. 'I'm not eager,' Sam said. 'I'm merely offering. It is something I find that I'm quite good at and there isn't much call for it in the work I'm doing at the moment, so when the opportunity or the need occurs I am glad to use it. And ifit happens to help someone with a prollem, then I am doubly pleased to try. If you'd rather I didn't, no sweat. I'll go and have a bath. I'm going out to dinner later ' 'No, wait.' Nick put his glass down. 'You're right. It did help. I remember now.' To his own surprise he found him" putting his misgivings fh'mly aside. 'A bit of mental is just what I need one way and another. Perhaps later, when you come back, OK?'. 'It will be very late by the time I get back.' Sam leaned forward, his sudden excitement tightly curbed. 'Why don't try it now? It won't take long, then you can spend the Nick sighed. 'Well I suppose it couldn't do any harm.' 'No harm at all,' Sam said. Without further protest Nick sat back in the chair and his shoulders against the deep orange cushions. Only a moments later Sam was smiling in triumph. 'Well done, he murmured. 'That's it. Now you are completely Completely asleep. But you can still hear me, can't . Nick nodded. Open your eyes and look at me. That's it. Now, I remember who I told you you were, once before, years ago. Who was it, Nick?' His brother's eyes were steady. They narrowed slightly. ' he said. He took a deep draught from his Your Royal Highness,' he emphasised the words Braose, did we not?' Nick nodded. A frown appeared between his eyes. . 'The .woman you loved, sir,' Sam went on relentlessly. 'The woman who rejected your advances and spurned you. The woman who accused you of murder before the world.' Abruptly Nick stood up, almost knocking into Sam as he etrode acrms the room, his face angry, his fists clenched. 'She taunted me about my nephew, Arthur ' 'And that was when you first decided that she must die,' Sam said softly. 'But now she has returned to taunt you again. And even in this life she still despises you. She still thinks herself superior to you - to you!' Sam watched with detached interest as Nick picked up the empty cassette box from the top of the stereo, and stared down for a moment unseeing, before crushing the box in his fi Silvers ofperspex flew in all directions and Sam saw some flecks of blood appear on his brother's hand. ' 'You will punish her again, won't you, sir,' he whispered. But before you do it, you will tell me what you intend.' He was silent for a minute, watching as Nick dusted the sharp fragments of the cassette box from his fingers. 'Did you hear me?' he repeated softly after a long silence. 'I heard you.' 'And you will tell me?' 'I will tell you.' Sam smiled. 'I wonder who you really were in that previous life,' he said reflectively. 'If you were anyone at all. Come, little brother. Why don't we find out, just for the hell of it.' Standing up he took Nick's shoulder and steered him hack to the cha-ir. 'I want you to think back to when you were a child. Back to when you were a haby. Back even before you lay in the womb, hack to the time before the darkness, hack to the late twelfth century when Richard Lion Heart was on the throne of England. Tell me, did you have a life then, too? Did you know me as William de Braose?' He flinched slightly as a flash of lightning cut through the eerie twilight of the storm outside. It was followed almost immediately by a loud crash of thunder which made the windows rattle. Nick had not moved. His face was like carved stone. / 'Well?' Sam was perspiring slightly. He leaned over Nick and, taking a handful of his hair, pulled his head hack so that his brother was forced to look up at him. 'Who were you?' he hissed. Nick's eyes were cold. His mouth moved into a haifsmile as for the first time he looked at Sam directly. 'Can you have forgotten so ou?' he said slowly. Sam drew hack abruptly. 'So,' he swore under his breath. 'The trance wasn't deep enough. You've been fooling me. Yet I could have sworn -' He took several steps hack. 'Nick? Nick can you hear me?' Nick nodded slowly. He was watching Sam with the half smile still on his face. 'I see.' Sam reached into the pocket of his cords and pulled out a clasp knife. 'Well, let's put it to the test shall we? I am going to tap your hnd with my finger. It is not going to hurt and I doubt if you will feel it at all.' He unfolded the knife. Nick's hand he held it a moment, staring at the the blade poised. Nick did not seem to have noticed. ' Sam turned the hand over and deliberately he stroked blade across the back of Nick's wrist. A thin line of blood but Nick had not flinched. 'So. A deep trance still exists,' Sam murmured as he put the. away. 'And your wit comes from another time. Yes, I have forgotten who you are. Why don't you tell Nick straightened his shoulders. Slowly he stood once 'You dare call me brother?' he said. 'Your name?' Sam said. 'Tell me your name, then I shall know what to call you!' 'I am John Plantagenet,' Nick shouted suddenly. 'I am the Sam smiled. 'I see. The idea appealed, did it? I thought it He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. 'All right, We'll go back to the beginning again. You are Nicholas Franldyn. I want you to think hack to when you were a tiny haby. That's free. Now, you are even smaller, lying in our mother's womb. Now, let your mind travel back. Back down the ages.' He paused. The room was silent as Sam sat down on the arm of the chair. 'Where are you, Nick?' he asked again at last. The flash of lightning was almost outside the flat windows; the crash which followed it so loud Sam wanted to clap his hands to his ears. Nick did not appear to have heard it at all. He was watching his brother as if from a great distance. 'I stand in England now in my brother's stead,' he said slowly. 'And one day, de Braose, I shall make you kneel to me. You, and that witch you call your wife.' He smiled coldly. 'What is this talk of babies in the womb? Are you deranged, man? Can it be that you do not know your Prince?' He strode towards Sam suddenly and took hold of the front of Sam's shirt. The blood from the cut on the back of his wrist was trickling across his palm and a smear of it transferred itseifto the blue cotton as Sam tried to pull him-self free. 'Look at me!' 447 Nick shouted suddenly. 'And look well, de Brame! Rememb the face ofyour future Kingl' For a moment neither of them reacted to the sound of the front door buzzer. Nick had not heard .it, but Sam, as he wrenched himIf away, turned angrily and glanced towards the hsdl. It buzzed.again as another flash of lightning lit the room. Sam cursed. He had to get rid of Whoever it was. He backed away from Nick, cautiously. 'I shall return in a moment, sir,' he said, trying to coet-aln the anger and impatience which had swept through him. 'Sit down, sir,' he added forcefully. 'We shall continue this conversation in a moment.' He paused, reluctant to move, but Nick, aiier a second's annoyed hesitation, had swung away from him and was standing in the middle of the room, his arms folded across his chet. Sam hurried into the hall, clming the door behind him: as the bu2zer sounded for a third time and he dragged open the front door. A bedraggled figure was standing on the dimly lit landing, dressed in a fawn raincoat. It was Judy Curmn. 'Thlmk Godl' she said, pushing past hinf- 'I thOUght you were out. I'm half drowned.' 'Judy!' Sam was still holding the door. 'Wait[ You can't come in! Why didn't the porter ring through to say you were here?' She had u--nimotted her belt and dropped the soaked rain cmt ou a chair. 'He wasn't in his cubbyhole, so I dodged past and grabbed the lift. I hate being interrogated by your porter. It mkes me feel like a burglar. What do you mean I can't come in, for Christ's sake? Why not?' 'I have a patient here, Judy ' 'Crap! You don't have patients. You do experiments on poor, bloody animals.' Judy pushed open the drawing room door.-'Get me a drink and a towel and let me wait until the storm is over, then I'll go -' She stopped dead in the doorway. qqick?' Her good humour wn*hed. 'I thought you were suppmed to be in the State.' Hick turned slightly towards her but he said nothing and he turned back m the window where the light WaS lmost contimlous behind the streaming rain. Judy scowled. 'And hello to you too, Nichdlas, sweetiel' ,, walked 'oss to the table and picked up the gin bottle, it up to the fight. 'You said you were with a patient, Do I gather you meant your benighted brother?' Sam had followed her into the room. He dosed the door 'Sit down, Judy, and shut up.' His voice was quietly She spun round. 'Who the hell are you tdling to shut 'lqick is deeply hypnotisod, Judy. He doesn't know you She stared at Sam, then, stnnned, she Ulrued to lq'ik. "You it? He can't see me?' She tiptoed towards him and few feet away. 'Why did you do it?' she whispered his shoulder. She looked at him speculatively for a minute then she shiv 'Does he know you've done it?' 'Of course. He asked me to.' 'Have you made him go back into the past, like Jo?' Judy raised her hend. as if to touch Nick's face, then abruptly she moved away from him again. Sam nodded. 'I've been trying to do that, but he is not such a good subject as Jo. He doesn't go deeply enough into the u'ance.' Judy poured herself out an inch of gin. 'But he's deeply enough in a trance for me to come into the room and him not know it[ What has he done to his hand?' Sam -m!.ed eni.t, matically. 'I cut him.' Judy stared, aghast. 'Why?' she breathed. 'To see ffthe trance was deep enough.' 'And was it?' He nodded. 'I think so.' Judy had begun to feel a little sick. Staring at the blood on 449 Nick's hand she turned to look at Sam. 'You're sure you didn't have a fight?' she asked faintly. Sam shook his head. 'Of course not.' 'Wake him up, please.' She was suddenly frightened. 'I was about to when you arrived.' Sam helped himself to another drink. He was watching Judy closely, noticing the conflict of emotions as they followed one another in quick succession across her face. Fear, disgust, interest, excitement and then something like calculation betrayed themselves in her eyes. But no affection that he could see. No sympathy. No love. 'Can't he hear us talking at all?' she said aer a moment. Nick was staring out of the window at the rain. 'He can. But he's not listening. He's in a world of his own, aren't you, my liege?' He walked up to Hick and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. Nick turned. His expression was icy. 'You display the man hers ofa pe---nt, de Braose,' he said. Sam coloured. 'Peasant or not, brother,' he replied smoothly, 'I am the one who holds the power now. I can free you, or leave you locked in the past.Do you know what would happen to a man who thinks he is King John? He would be put away somewhere where he could harm no one for the rest of his claysl' 'Sam!' Judy cried. She ran to him and grabbed him by the arm. 'Sam, for Christ's sake, wake him up. Stop it!' Sam smiled at her. 'Afraid of losing your handsome Nicholas to the men in white coats?' Sheclung to him. 'Wake him up] [That you're doing is evil. It's vile! You're manipulating him!' 'No, no.' Sam gently drew away from her. 'He'll be OK. I've done nothing to harm him.' 'What about post-hypnotic suggestion?' Judy was watching Nick's face in anguish. 'What have you told him to do when he wakes up?' 'Ah yes, the one thing every layman- or worn- has heard of.' Sam folded his arms. 'Perhaps you have some good for one or two post-hypnotic suggestions yourself?' He at her, one eyebrow raised,his eyes full of amusement. Judy glared at him. 'Well, you could tell him to leave Jo for a start,' she mapped. 'If you'd like to do something both flinched as another fish of lightning lit the Sam was watching Nick's profile. 'I am not prepared to do ' he said. 'Hypocritel' she blazed suddenly. 'I thought we were on same side! You said you could split them up. You were to send me aer him tO France to get him away from obviously it was a lousy idea.' He turned to her his voice heavy with dislike, 'I can't force him to like i you.' He smiled faintly. 'Though he obviously does, in spite of the fact that, as I told you before, I believe you have certain which put my brother off. Pursuing him is obviously one of them.' He threw himself down on the sofa, pulling one ankle up to rest on his knee as he looked up at her. 'Though as I recall you did not expect to see him when you came here this ev-ning. YOU therefore came to see me, I presume, or was your visit really merely an excuse to get out of the rain?' Judy scowled. 'Whatever I came for, it was obviously a big mistakel It was you who told me to follow Nick to France, ff rememherl You even paid my farel Now you accuse me of him[' Sam ignored the.indit'nant words. 'So. You came to discuss Nick.' 'I may have.' Judy looked at Nick uncomfortably. 'But I lm't talk about him like t-hi as ifhe's not herel It's not fair. It's grotesquel' 'Then I shall awaken him and you can tell him your problem to his face.' Sam stood up. He strode over to Nick and swung him round. 'You remember what I told you, brother?' he said quietly. 'You remember what you must do. But the rest you 450 451 will forget. Whatever you have been experiencing there, in your head, you will forget for now. You will forget everything, save the fact that you are rested and relaxed and ready to receive your visitor, when I count to three. Now. One - two-three.' Judy held her breath as shewatched them. Slowly Nick's face became reanimated and suddenly he was looking straight at her. 'Judy? When did you arrive?' She forced herself to smile. 'Only a few minutes ago. I wanted to get out of thee storm.' Nick turned to the window, puzzled, then he put his hand to his head. 'What happened? Was I asleep?' Sam grinned. 'You asked me to hypnotise you, remember? I was hard at it when Judy arrived.' Nick groaned. 'Did I say anything odd?' Judy looked away. 'Of course noL You didn't say anything much.' 'I was doing all the talking.' Sam caught Judy's arm and swung her to face him, 'But Judy is not goingto give away any trade secrets, now, is she? She is far too semible.' She looked up into his face. For a long moment they stared at each other, then Judy smiled. 'I'm very good at keeping secrets, Sam,' she said. 'Tell me, who was I in this past life you are all riving so cosily together? I'd like to know.' Sam looked pained. 'If you want to fred that out, Judy, you must go to a professional like Carl Bennet.' 'But you could do it!' He shook his head. 'I don't run side-shows, and I'm not a therapist.' 'But you regressed Nick!' She coloured indignantly. 'For a reason. And because he is my brother. I'm sorry, Judy. It would not be ethicalfor me to do it to you. But, for what it's worth, I wouldn't bother.' Her mouth dropped open. 'What do you mean?' 'I mean I don't believe you've lived before.' 'Sam! Give it a rest!' Nick flung him-telfdnwn on the sofa. 'How the hell can you tell!' Sam shrugged. 'I'm sorry. I'll rephrase that. You may well lived before, but not with us. Not as part of Jo's story.' Judy laughed. 'I see. Keep it in the family, eh? All nice and How convenient. Just like the way you've been priming , 'What do you mean?' Nick sat up suddenly. 'I mean the whole thing is a great hoax! You weren't He told you who you were and then he told you past life!' 'Judy.' Sam's voice was low and threatening. 'You heard saw nothing but the end of our session.' 'What does she mean, Sam?' Nick stood up. -'She means I was telling you to forget your worries and re--ln,, For some reason she found that sinister.' 'You told him -' 'I told hirn nothing,' Sam interrupted forcefully. 'Nothing, Judy, which need be of the least concern. But in one thing you were right. It was not a proper regression. As I told Nick before, he is too tense yet to attempt it.' The ringing of the phone punctuated the end of his sentence. Sam, who was standing right beside it, picked it up. For a moment he stood listening, a frown on his face, then suddenly he was smiling. 'Why, Jo! How nice to hear from you. How are you?' He waved Nick away as the latter tried to reach for the phone. 'No, he hasn't as a matter of fact. He's not going until the second, now... I see. Poor Jo, where are you then?... No, I won't tell him. Ofcour I won't.' He smiled sweetly at Nick. 'Yes. Yes, I'm glad you rang. Keep in touch.' He put the receiver down gently. 'That was Jo,' he said unnecessarily. 'She's at the Black Lamb Hotel near a place caned Tatgarth.' Judy's eyes blazed. 'You bastard!' she said. 'I distinctly heard you promise Jo you wouldn't tell Nick where she was!' Tim had caught a taxi from Paddington back to Covent Garden. He walked heavily up the stairs to the studio and stared 453 ound. The place was blazing with lights, the small dais urrounded by floods and spots, a wind machine playing on he girl who stood there dressed only in the finest wisps of :n -smidst a litter ofstraw bales. George Chippen, his assistant, was busy with his camera, napping the laughing girl, but he stopped as Tim appeared nd walked over towards them. Tim altered the position of ne of the spotlights a little and winked at George. 'I'll get hay bver if I hang around here,' he commented with a heavy ttempt at a smile. 'You carry on, George, you're doing a reat job. Ciao, kids. I'll see you all later.' Humping his heavy mg into the comer of the studio, he dropped it, then he 'limb the spiral staircase to his bedroom, oblivious to the ,Janc of curiosity which followed him from the studio floor, ad, locking the door, flung himself on the bed, staring up at he ceiling. It had been his idea to leave. She had not argued. Subdued, carcely speaking, she had driven him to lqewlrt Station. ['here she had kissed him once, a long wistfgl kiss, full of ndness, but without passion. 'I'm so sorry, Tim,' she whispered.-'I wish it could have men for real.' 'So do I, honey.' He had stroked her hair lightly, trying to nemorise the touch of it beneath his hand. 'So do I.' With a groan he turned his face to the pillows to hide the mess on his cheeks and he began to sob quietly, like a child. Some time later he heard George run up the spiral stair and apou the door. 'Tim? Tim, can I come in?' The boy sounded zcited and cheerful. Tim did not answer. He pulled the pillows over his head nd after a while he heard the patter of trainers on the 7rought iron steps as George went down once more. Tim ighed. Sitting up he blew hit nose loudly, then he reached for 'M Griffiths? It's Tim Heacham. Tell me, did bliss get back safely?' t the other end of the line Margied Griffith untied her apron with her free hand and stretched to hang it on the back of kitchen door. 'Why, Mr Heacham, I'm so sorry, but I here when she came back. It was my daughter who aw t she'd be wanting the room again, see, and it had gone. So sorry, I was. I'm afraid I don't And I had another message here to give Tim closed his eyes wearily. 'It doesn't matter,' he said. hope to see you again, one day.' He hung and threw himself back on the bed as, far below, the clang of the street closing echoed up through the empty studio. Tim lay for a couple of hours staring out of the high windows which showed nothing but roof-tops silhouetted against the purple storm clouds. At least it had stopped raining. His head ached and his throat was sore. He felt unbearably lonely. Slowly he sat up at last. Leaning across the bed he unlocked a drawer in the cuphoard next to it and drew out a box. He sat and looked at it for a long time, then slowly he opened the lid and pulled out the hypodermic, the narrow tourniquet and a packet of powder. To lose a woman twice, be it to destiny or to another man - what kind of mall did that mke him? What was it she had said once? That he reminded her of an Afghan hound! He laughed out loud, the bitter sound ringing round the empty room. At least he had one night to remember; one night she could never take away from him. Methodically he went about his preparations, meticulously sterilising the needle. It waan't often he resorted to this; not yet. Snorting was usually enough; that and the ".cigarettes. Anything to keep the shadows at bay. But tonight he wanted to crash out all the way. Out into the whiffing spaces beyond his mind. The office was full of strange noises at night. Nick lay on the long elegant couch staring, at the venetian blind drawn down across the curtinle window. The mtet lamps outside sent weird horizontal tlaedows tumbling through the slatLand 455 across the white carpet towards him like the rungs of a ladder. For the fiftieth time he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. His head was spinning, but Judy's words kept coming back to him. It's alia hoax... He told you roho you were... He told you what to do ... Judy and her stupid redheaded temper! She had stormed at Sam and then at him, angry with them both for some reason, then she had grabbed her wet coat and run out into the rain. When she had gone, he and Sam had had a furious row. Nick sighed and sat up slowly. It hadn't just been Judy. In this very room his mother had warned him; his gentle, loving mother, who worshipped Sam, had tried to tell him something; as good as said that Sam was dangerous. Nick shook his head wearily. Why should Sam want to harm him? It didn't make What had their row been about? He couldn't even remember that now, He had asked Sam about the hypnosis but his brother had refused to be drawn, saying Judy was neurotic and sex starved and it was then that Nick had decided to go out for a walk. He had strolled slowly down Constitution Hill, staring up at the harsh light of the electric lanterns in the streaking rain, smelling the wet flowers and earth beyond the high walls of Buckingham Palace, then on round the Victoria Memorial, the palace huge and dark behind him, down Birdcage Walk, conscious of the lightning flickering now in the distance behind Big Ben. The roads were empty; Horsegusrds bare and swept with rain, the lighted windows in the Haymarket, eerie in the empty street. He made his way slowly back up Piccadilly, and then, unable to face speaking to Sam again that night, he had come hack to Berkeley Street and opened the locked office. He paced up and down the carpet. Bet had told him that Jo was in Wales with Tim Heacham. The last person on earth she would want to see was him, but now he had her address he knew ha hadto go to her. With a sigh he switched on the light and, reaching for the percolator, he gave it an experimental shake. There was still some coffee in it and he plugged it in. had to see Jo; he had to make things all right with her stared down at the glass of the jug with a frown, the condensation forming on its sides as the coffee to warm. He was being torn apart. Halfofhim wanted to hold her, to comfort her and beg her to forgive her. He didn't understand even now why :had done it, or what had made him so angry. But he was still, and part of him still seethed quietly inside; part of was still fanatically jealous. Part of him wanted to hurt again. paced up and down the carpet a few times, listening to occasional car roaring up the street outside, then-he at his watch. It was nearly three. Sitting down at his he flicked on the desk light and pulled out a .map. It do no harm to work out the route to Wales. In the he would make the final decision as to what he walked into the office at eight, Nick was hard at 'Good God, Nick! Now you're making me feel doubly What time did you get here for Chrissake?' Jim said, down his case. Nick glanced up. t'I've been here all night.' Giving a wry he stretched his arms above his head. 'But don't go on martyr act, you've done your penance - and I came for peace as much as anything else. Look, Jim, I want to . meeting with Mike Desmond, then I have to go for a couple of days.' groaned. 'Nick, for God's sake. You're needed in the 'Not if you're here. You can handle things.' 'You still that?' Jim's tone was bitter. gs up once in a while.' Nick stood up picked up the coffee jug. It was empty. 'The secret is to Otherwise, you're dead.' He turned Jim. 'I have a feeling you'll handle this meeting like a 457 master, that's why I want to sit in on it and, let's face it, we've nothing to lose. In fact, if we get Desco back and I win the New York accounts we'll have to expand!' He walked to the window and pulled up the blind then he turned to Jim and grinned. 'And I'm just in the mood to build an empire at the moment, so you've been warned!' It was seven twenty that evening when at last he walked into the bar of the Black Lamb near Talgarth. He glanced round. It was empty. 'What can I get you, sir?' The publican appeared through a bead curtain at the back as Nick hauled himselfwearily onto a stool. He ordered a Scotch and soda, looking round with some curiosity. There was no sign of Jo. 'You seem very quiet, landlord.' The man shrugged. 'They'll all be in later. Friday, see. Tarring themselves up, they are, then come eight, they'll all be here.' He pushed the glass across the bar. 'Have something yourself.' Nick flippecUa five pound note onto the counter. 'Tell me, do you still have a Miss Clifford staying here?' He picked up his glass. The man grinned. 'Thank you very much. One more night, she said. She's out now though - going to Radnor I think she said she was, this morning.' He drew himself a pint before opening the till to look for the change. 'Friend of hers, are you?' Nick nodded. 'You haven't another room, I suppose?' 'Just for the one night is it?' 'Just the one.' 'Well, if you don't mind somewhere a bii shabby like, maybe I could fit you in. It's a bad time of the year, see, with all the visitors.' 'I don't mind as long as I can sleep.' Nick finished his drink and pushed the glass back towards the man. 'Tell me, do you expect Jo - Miss Clifford - back for dinner?' 'Well now, we don't exactly serve dinner, sir. Chicken in a basket we can do you, or a nice scampi.' He leaned forward 48 Nick out of the window. 'Isn't that her now?' round. His jaw tautened as he watched Jo back MG into the corner of the car park behind the pub. She out of her car and he saw her stand for a moment at his Porsche, then she glanced over her shoulder the pub. Even from that distance he could see the anxiety on her face. She was wearing a deep rose jeans and he found himself staring at her as she stooped into the car to find her bag, then she the door and walked almost reluctantly towards pushed the door open. 'What are you doing here, 'Didn't I make myself clear? I never want to you again!' Behind them the barman folded his arms and leaned with till. 'I told Sam not to tell you where I was,' she went on, her bag down on a chair.'A gin and tonic, please, Mr 'Coming up.' He reached up to the gin bottle with a grin. gentleman is paying for it, is he?' 'He is.' noticed that her hand was shaking as she reached for glass and to his surprise he felt a quick surge of pleasure. 'You should know better than to trust Sam,' he said softly. know better by now t-hn- to trust Sam with any at all.' She did not smile. 'It's over, Nick. Finished.' She tried to from his face. HIS handsome features were with fatigue. She looked down abruptly at her Nick. Don't make a scene here.' 'I'm not going to make a scene. All I want is to talk.' Nick a despairing grimace at their host who was listening undisguised attention. 'Where, by the way, is the tal Mr Heacham? I thought he was supposed to be with 459 She tensed suddenly and he saw he colour rise in her cheeks. 'He had to go hack to town. He only came to rake some pictures.' Nick tried to hide his elation. 'All the better. We can talk in peace. Look, Jo: I'm going back to London tomorrow, so you needn't panic. Why don't we have something to eat and a bottle ofwine, then we'll talk later. That's all I want to do. Please -' he added as an afterthought. Jo hesitated, then she stood up, forcing a smile. 'All fight. I'll go and change out of these jeans and join you in ten minutes. But just for a meal.' She pickedup her hag. 'Do I gather you intendto stay here tonight?' He nodded. 'Mr Vangh has a cupboard for me, I believe.' 'That's just as well.' She gave him a tight smile. 'Because my roomis single.' 'OuchV Vaughan said quietly as Jo swung out of the room. 'Would I be right in thinking you're offended the lady?' Nick gave a dry laugh. 'Something like that,' he said. In her room at the top of the steep stairs Jo shut the door and leant againq it. She clcgled her eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly she walked to the small table, which sported a square mirror, and stared at her reflection as she began to unbutton her blouse. She had known when she rang Sam that he would tell Nick where she was. Was that why she had done it? She pulled off the blouse and threw it on the bed then wearily she slipped out of her jeans. Pulling on her dressing-gow she went to the door. There would be time for a shower and a few minutes flat on her back with her eyes closed before she need go back downstairs. 'Have you gone back into the past again since you've been here?' Nick looked up at her acroashe small table. The room was noisy now, crowded and full of cigarette smoke. She was toying listlessly with her chips. After a minute she nodded. 'You know, when I wanted to go into a trance with Tim there so that he could photograph me - nothing happened. I couldn't do it - but then.later I did.? 'And it frightened you, didn't it?' 'It frightened me that I couldn't control it.' She glanced up him under her eyelashes. 'I was going to Radnor today, halfway there I stopped. I panicked. I didn't want it to again; suddenly I didn't dare go anywhere Matilda have been. I didn't want anything to trigger offanother not alone.' Their eyes met. Hick's face was harsh. 'So, your past please you. Do you intend to forget about Matilda 'How can I? I'm trapped.' She gave up all pretence of and reached for her wine glass. 'Are you going to say I He ignored the question. 'You need not have come back to 'Oh, but I did have to. I'm working on a story, and I want to 'Even though you're afraid?' 'Even thonEh I'm afraid,' she repeated slowly, with a rue smile. 'Remember the war correspondent.' He was watching her closf.ly. She had let her hair fall on her shoulders, wearing now a tan linen dress, a thin gold chain around her neck. As she heavy lock of her.hair slipped forward onto her breast. down her glass. 'Have you come up here to apologise, 'For what?' He narrowed his eyes. 'For what?' she echoed. 'For bloody well nearly killing me then last time for scaring me silly.' She stared at him. you don't remember what happened!' He .-m!ed grimly. 'I remember clearly. Tell me, did Tim you while you were making love to one of your be pictures of you writhing in ecstacy I over the gutter press?' eyes hardened. 'You know bloody well there won't. if you've come up here to make trouble again -' 'Trouble?' He raised an eyebrow. 'I'm not going to make 461 She stared at him He was watching her with a strange look on his face, half wry amusement, halt" something harder and more calculating, and she felt a prickle of apprehension. 'Nick, you behaved like a ndman,' she whispered. 'I was scared.' 'With reason.' He picked up the wine bottle and fdled his ghss. 'You're not even sorry, are you!' She was incredulous. 'I didn't want m hurt you, Jo.' 'Then why did you do it? Were you drunk?' 'Perhaps.' A half smile flickered he-hind his eyes. She swallowed hard. 'I don't understand you any more, Nick. You've changed.' He laughed uneasily. 'Obviously for the worse as far as 'Yes, for the worse.' Her eyes sparkled angrily. 'Judy Curzon may like your new macho image, Nick, but I don't. I find it boorish. What the hell is happening m you?' She stood up abruptly. 'I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed now. I'll see you in the morning, no doubt, before you leave.' For a moment he thought she was going to say something else, then she changed her mind and threaded her way switily out of the bar without a backward glance. Nick did not move. He pick up the bottle again, refilling his glass, and sat staring out of the window at the twilit garden, his hack to the crowded drinkers. What the hell was happening to him? He had no idea either, and he was beginning to feel afraid himself. Jo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It wasn't yet fully dark. She could hear the low rumble of conversation from the bar downstairs, the occasional shout of laughter, the banging of the door to the car park. Outside the window a hat was flitting back and forth against the yellow twilight. She clenched her fists suddenly. 'Oh God, no. Not here. Don't let it happen here.' She sat bolt upright. There was perspiration on her face as she pushed hack the sheet, her 462 breath coming in quick shallow gasps, and swung her feet to polished floor-boards, feeling its-cool solidity with thank as she gripped the bedhead and stood there for a staring down at the pillows, trying to steady her there was a shout beneath her window. She half not relinquishing her hold on the bed, and her eyes cautiously towards the evening light. It was now, less bright. Laughter and a scuffle in the shrubs was followed by the sound of car doors slamming. an engine roared. With a sigh of relief she stag feeling the cool air She could smell the sweet scented stock in the bed It had not happened after all; there were no cars in the past. the narrow creak stairs made her turn wearily from the window. She at her watch. It was ten fifteen. The steps stopped outside her door. 'Jo? Are you there?' She froze. N/ck. Her lips formed the word soundlessly as standing in the lock. Had she turned it she climbed into bed? She ran m the door and put her hands against the panels. 'Jo?' He sounded impatient this time. 'For God's sake, up!' The handle rattled, and she felt the wood move as he pushed, but the key held. 'Jol Stop being so ' childish!' She bit her lip, saying nothing as once again the handle 'All right, have it your own.way, Joanna mine.' His was slightly slurred. 'I'll see you in the She heard him snunble as he began to climb the ladder-like staircase at the end of the dark landing, then there was Her eyes filled with tears. 'Nick.Oh Nick, what's happened 463 to you?' she murmured as she threw herself onto the bed. 'What has happened to us both?' 'You didn't mind me coming over, Tim?' Judy was standing nncrtnlnly in the middle of the darkened studio. 'I know it's late, but I w up at the Barbican and I didn't feel much like going home. Not yet.' She glanced up at him, 'Life's being a bit of a bitch.' There was despair in her voice. Tim gave a rueful scowl. 'I'm sure I can fred something here to keep the bitch at bay for another few hours. Booze. Dope.' He threw him.eelfdowa on a canv- ehr. The, if you WlOt me.' Judy set down on the edge of the d,i,, her arms wrapped around her knees. 'I wouldn't mind a drink,' she seid. She was trembling slightly.. He laughed. 'What ehe?' Hanlin himlf to hit feet, he went into the kitchen and took a bottle of champagne out of the fridge. She stood up and followed him 'Were yo) really in Wales?' He ung round. 'Who told you that?' .'Nick. He's followed Jo down there, you know.' Tim had been rummaging in a cupboard for two champagne g!-ses and he straightened abruptly, his face contorted 'They belong to each other, Judy,' he said after a moment, controlling himself with an effort. She took the glas out of his hands. 'Oh, I know I've lost him. For now. But one day I'll get bm back. I have to get him bac Tim.' He shook his head. 'Jo and Nick have a date with destiny, Judy.' She threw back her head and laughed. 'Crapl You're stoned already. You didn't even wait for me.' He picked up the bottle and tore the foil off the neck. 'As a newt, my love. It helps.' Tmsing the wire into the sink he flipped the cork. : Judy picked up her foming gla and walked thoughtfully back into his studio. 'It was here I told Nigel Dempster she was going mad,' she said over her shoulder. 'I thought I had won, then. I really thought Nick had finished with her for good.' She ran her hand down the bank of switches by the door, flooding the huge bare room with stark light, and let out a sm*-|! cry of surprise as the sudden illumination revealed a large easel in the corner of the studio, covered by a sheet. 'Have you taken up painting?, She moved towards it purposefully. 'Don't touch it, Judy!' Tim was standing in the kitchen doorway, swaying slightly, his glass in his hand. 'Why? Are you shy?' She laughed harshly. 'I said, don't touch it:' He moved with sudden speed towards her. 'If you touch that cover, I'll throttle you.' Judy dodged, out of reach. 'Tim. You're embarrassed[' Champagne slopped onto the floor from her glass as she him and caught the corner of the sheet, pulling it from the huge board and throwing it onto the ground. She stared at the tinted life-size photograph in silence, her eyes travelling up the tall, slim body of the woman she saw there, taking in the pale green gown, falling in heavy folds to the floor, the fur-trimmed surcoat, the wimple and veil. 'It's Jo,' she breathed at last. 'Top marks for oly'rvation!' He picked up the sheet. 'But how - how did you get her to let you take a picture like that?' Tim laughed heavily. 'I didn't exactly take it like that.' 'You mean it's a mock-up? But it's o real -' 'That's a naive re-rk, coming from you.' She ignored the retort. 'Her eyes are different. And her hair,' she went on, touching the photograph lightly. 'It's Jo, but it isn't Jo at all. You've caught omeone else. Someone as you or me. It's not just the clothes...' There was a silence as they both stood staring at the picture, then she him. 'You're in love with her, too.' She made statement in a flat, lmhnppy voice which made him glance 464 465 'Quite a pair, aren't we?' he replied. He covered the picture again, meticulously pulling the sheet straight. 'You love Nick and I love Jo. And they love each other.' 'Did she tell you what she looked like in the past?' Judy asked suddenly. He shook his head. 'No need. I can see her clearly in my mind as she was.' With a sigh he walked to the wall and began to turn offthe lights one by one. 'I wonder if Nick can too.' Her voice was very husky. Tim picked up the champagne bottle. 'I wonder,' he echoed. 'She was very beautiful, Matilda de Braose,' Judy. said as she held out her glass. Tim fdled it until it overflowed onto the floor and slopped over her shoes. 'The most beautiful woman in the world,' he agreed unsteadily. 'The most beautiful woman in the world!' Nick was reading the papers at a small round table at the open French windows of the pub dining room when Jo came down for breakfast. She was wearing jeans again, with a loose white silk blouse. " He stood up as she appeared. 'Coffee is on its way. How did you sleep?' 'Not too well. And you?' She surveyed him cautiously as she slipped into the chair opposite him Nick smiled. 'It was very hot up in that attic.' He grinned suddenly with something like his old humour as behind them the door opened and Dai Vaughan appeared with a tray of coffee and cereal and toast. He slid it between them onto the table. 'Will you be wanting to stay tonight alier all?' he asked Nick as he began to set their places. 'Just so that I know. The room is empty if you want it.' Nick shook his head slowly. 'I have to go hack to London,' he said. Jo glanced at him sharply. 'Do you have to go thi morning?' she said in spite of herself. He nodded. 'I think it would be best, don't you?' suppose so.' The magnetism between them was still as :as ever. She longed to reach across the table and touch Nick hesitated. 'Perhaps I could stay until this . then we could go for a drive or something? I should see a tittle of this Wales of yours before I leave -' He his breath, waiting for her response. set the coffee pot in front of ,. 'Now there's an idea,' he said cheerfully. 'Why don't I put a picnic for the both of you. It'll stay fine a while yet with squinted out of the window. 'Where would you like go? I can lend you a map. Llangorse lake? The waterfalls? not go up to the mounts-in, by here - Castel -- perhaps. There's "a fine view, and lovely country and not too far.' Jo frowned. She .had been watching Nick's face. 'I don't t might remind me -' she said quietly. :qot today. I can't cope with that. Castles make me , 'Oh it's not a castle like Bronilys or Hay. It's :earthwork, see. Celtic, I think it is.' He picked up the tray. you he leaving this afrernoon too, Clifford?' Jo nodded. lqick raised an eyebrow. 'Are you coming back to London?' keep the triumph out ofhis voice. She watched Dal Vanghan until he was out of the room. going back to Hay.' She rested her chin on her hands. 'I've got to, Nick. I told I can't let itgo. Not yet.' He scowled. 'But you will let it go today?' She nodded. 'I'd like that. Let's go and see this Castel I doubt if the de Brames were into archaeology.' She at him suddenly, the wariness lifting from her face. Nk?' 'Truce.' He leaned forward and put his hand on hers. A haze had formed over the mountaintops as they parked the Porsche in a narrow lane and climbed out. Nick was holding the Ordnance Survey map in his hand. 'I don't think there's much point in taking the food with us,' he said. 'It may be nice now, but the weather's closing in fast. Do you still want m go up there?' She nodded, staring up at the gaunt shoulders of the Black Mountin.% rising above them, clear and sharply defined in the brilliant sunlight, save where wisps of cloud and mist touched them and drifted down into the folded cwms. Hick shuddered. 'God, what a lonely place! Tha must be-' he glanced down at the map. 'Waun Fach- heaven knows how it's pronounced!' ,It's beautiful,' Jo was staring round her. 'Quite beautiful. Smell that air. Hundreds of miles of grass and wild thyme and bilberries- and just look at the hedges down here. Honeysuckle, dog roses, chamomile, foxgloves - and a thousand flowers I don't even know the name of ... - Dropping his map on the car bonnet he had put his hands on her shoulders, drawing her to him, feefing the warmth of her flesh beneath the thin silk of her shirt as he folded his arms around her and pressed her ag-inst him, his mouth ng into her hair. Jo clmed her eyes. For a moment she stood still, feeling the tide of longing rising in her as she clung to him, overwhelmed with happiness suddenly, her doubts dissolving as she raised her mouth to his for a long passionate kiss, her hands automatically reaching for the buttous of his shirt, slipping inside to caress his chest. With a smile she drew back a little and looked up at him at last. Then she froze The face of the n who stood staring down at her did not belong to Hick. Her stomach turned over in icy shock as recognition hit her and she remembered the blue eyes, the arrogant brow, the imperious touch and her own body's helpless response as this man had drawn her, long ago, against his hard body. 'Nol' Jo's eyes were dilated with fear as she pulled away from him. 'Oh no! No! Please God, no!' Tearing herself out ofhis arms she began to run up the lane away from him. 'Jo!' Nick called angrily. 'Come back here! What's the matter?' But she took no notice. Hurling herself at the gate she scrambled over it, staring up the steep grass slope in front of her. Far above their heads she could hear the lonely scream of a circling buzzard. Hick vaulted over behind her. 'Jo, wait!' But she had begun to run, shaking her hair out of her eyes, her heart thumping in her chest as she forced herself as fast as she could up the steep ridged grass with its scattering of sheep droppings. Hick stood for a moment watching her. His good humour wni.hed, he made himself take a deep breath, ttving to steady the sudden wave of anger which had gripped him. In front of him Jo had stopped again, She turned, gasping for breath, u'ing down at him from the slope and he could see the fear in her eyes. Behind her the mist was drifting down across the mountain. A patch of sunlight dimmed and disappeared. It was becoming oppressively hot again. There was no breath of wind. Slowly he began to follow her upwards. |o reached the earthworks first and stood panting, staring round her at the piles of fallen abandoned stones and the ditch ramparts of the Celtic fortress, high on its hill amid the mountains. The mist was growing thicker. Blind panic she whirled as a quiet rumble of thunder echoed ye valley in the distance. ' Nick had stopped several feet from her, breathing heavily the climb. He was watching her with a strange half 'Don't run any more, Jo,' he said quietly. 'There's no 469 She could feel the blood pounding in her temples as she took a few staggering steps backwards, her hands held out in front of her. Nick... help.., me... She wanted to call out to him, To Nick. Not the other man, to Nick. But the words would not come, trapped ringing in her head by the mist and the silence and by Nick's strange implacable smile as he began to follow her again. Turning she started to run once more, stumbling down the steep bank of a ditch. Around her the hills closed in; the mist lapped against the grass and once more there was a rumble of thunder in the east. Dear God, she had been here before. This place she recog- promised ; it came into her story and was indelibly etched upon her memory. It must not happen here. Not in front of Nick- not now, not bring her helplessly to her knees alone here, with a man who hated her - 'Jo! Stop, for God's sake-' His voice was irritated now. 'Jo - Jo, come back ...' It was echoing slightly in the eerie silence of the hills. 'Jo...' 27 A visitor was announced as Matilda stood running her eyes down a list of accounts. She was alarmed and astonished to see the King'. brother whom she thought to be at Gloucester with William. John was bare-headed, his colour heightened from the gallop through the chilly morning. 'How is the gracious Lady Matilda, this fme day?' the Prince enquired with a mocking bow. 'I am honoured that you should come to Hay, Your Highness. I am well.' Her voice was guarded and her hands, clasped before her, were unconsciously plaiting her girdle. She saw his eyes running down the line of her body, ever insolent, the pupils hooded by lazy eyelids. 'Good. I've come, my lady, from Hereford. No doubt you are aware that my brother, the King, cornmnded me to demand homage from the princes in Wales.' He stopped. 'But of course,, your daughter is married to one of them, is she not?' He smiled coolly. 'Have you news of her, perhaps?' Matilda paled and looked away. Since her worst nightmares had been realised and Groffyd had joined his father in revolt agaimt King Richard, there had been no news of Tilda. 'Nothing, Your Highness,' she repfied firmly. John frowned, as if suddenly aware of her distre. 'She is eafe, I am sure, Lady Matilda,' he said more gently. 'I shall, ff send messengers to enquire.' He smiled amiably as turned to face him, her eyes alive with hope. 'But, for my lady, I had in mind to visit one of the castles in your holdings, Dinas, somewhere to "the west in the John took a cup of wine handed to him by a anddrank it in a gulp. 'I hear too that it has a magic . blessed with powers ofhealing.' , Matilda thought rapidly. 'The building there is finished, I been there yet, my lord, and I have heard the has certain wonderfi properties. Surely you do not Your Highness?' She couldn't resist the last 471 question, but immediately regretted it, as his good humour vanished and his face became surly. 'I am interested in such places.' He was silent for a moment, the empty goblet dangling from his fingers, his eyes fixed on the wall somewhere behind her. 'You have heard, I suppose,' he went on suddenly, 'that my brother, the King, refuses to come and meet Lord Rhys at Oxford? I pacify the Welsh princes for him, they agree not to fight while the King is away on his crusade, and I get Rhys to come with me to pay homage to Richard. But Richard is too high and mighty to come halfway to meet him at Oxford as our father would have done.' He held out his goblet for more wine. 'Lord Rhys, with all the exquisite touchiness of the Welsh, has decided now that he has been mortally insulted and he re.fix.q: to meet my brother or his envoys at all.' John drew his band impatiently across his brow. 'God's teeth, you can't say I haven't tried.' He was silent again for a moment, then, his black mood passing as swiftly as it had come, he gri0ned at her again. 'So you see, I have given myself a few hours to rid myself ofmy frusttations, madam.' Matilda tried to force a smile. 'I am sure I can find men to guide you into the mountains, my lord, and an escort.' 'I have an escort.' He gestured impatiently. 'I need a guide and I should like you to accompany me, Lady Matilda. It is umhinkalle that you have not yet visited the castle yourself. It is a duty I am sure Sir William would expect ofhis wife. He sends you greetings, by the way. He chose to visit Wigmore on his return to his estates. He will he back soon enough, no doubt.' He threw himself into a chair and rested his ankle casually across his knee, his mocking look once more upon her. 'I hear you ride with the courage of a man maia so I am sure you wouldn't refuse to come with me on such a small adventure.' He threw his challenge so lightly she had risen to it without even realising, the memory of his boyhood insults about her horsemanship suddenly surfacing in her mind. 'Of course! It's not more than a dozen miles ...' Too late she sensed words filled her with foreboding. 'A small party, well mounted, could do it in an hour or so, doubt. Just you and I, madam. The guide and my men. will he no trip for a bevy ofledy's maids.' glanced at him warily, but he was intent on tracing the pattern of the goblet with his thumbnail and refused to her eye. 'Find fresh mounts for Prince John and his followers,' she suddenly, her mind made up. The waiting ser he door. 'Saddle my chestnut tell Ifor the huntsman to he there to guide us to Camel We leave at once, then we will he back by dark. Does lord?' He jumped to his feet, grinning like a boy, as he swept up gauntlets and adjusted the sword belt at his waist. 'Indeed The wind freshened as they rode out of Hay towards the Ifor, a small curly-headed figure on his raw-boned cob, , a bow slung across his shoulders, while behind the four knights who had accompanied John from Matilda felt a momentary pang of anxiety when she escort was so small but her pride would not let her more men on the Prince. If he thought four men suffi the King's brother then so be it. They rode swiftly, following the narrow but well-marked the foot of the hill towards the little borough of Talgarth, the horses' hooves kicking up clods of the soft red earth. John rode in silence, his , but she thought she saw a gleam of triumph in his he turned once to look at her. She whipped her horse to up with him. 'Ifor is a good man, Your Highness. He the most direct route. Are you familiar with not.' He glanced up at the thickly wooded shoulder of to their left. 'But I thought I would improve my with the de Braose--possessious.'. Was that in his voice, and in the sidelong glance which he ent her? She felt another tremor of warning. The road was rough and muddy from the recent rain, and the ride took longer than she expected. Partsof the track had been washed away and Ifor had to lead them away from the xther ways into the thick woods where they bent low over their horses's necks, avoiding the sweeping branches of the trees. Although they had let Hay before noon the light was alregdy bennlng to fail as they trotted into Talgarth. Again she felt the warning prickle under her skin. How were they to return by nightfall if the road were so slow? She noticed John draw his dark cloak over hi hauberk, concealing the intricate details of his brooch and belt. Curious eyes followed them down the main street of the tow, and he was glad they had Ifor with them, calling out friendly greet in in Welsh a they passed towards the bridge over the angry red water of the swift-flowing Enig Brook. The Prince's m.perated report of the failure of the negotiations with Lord Rhys had filled her, once he had overcome the accustomed pang of worry about Tildar with a seine of foreboding. She knew, as perhaps John'did not, just how quickly the vengeance of the Wel could mke itself felt in the valleys of the wild country round them. The hor climbed slowly out of Talga away from the uluare ix'el tower which guarded the bridge. Before them lay the mountin. Matilda cured herself for allowing them to come at all. It was growing late and the slowness of the ride meant that, with the heavy clouds hanging so low over the peaks, it was growing dark, and this was no place to be benighted. Shivering, he pulled her cloak more clmely round her shoulders and kicked her mount close up bhin-d John's. The escort dosed tightly about them and they rode in silence save for the occasional clink of harnest or the click of hoof on stone. Matilda could see John's bsnd on the hilt ofhi sword as he looked about him. At last he too eemed to be growing nervom. Before them the mynydd-dir rose in a high barrier, mlaty and black. ]hind the broad Wye valley was lost to sight behin-d the band of woods. They rode hard, not sparing the horses on the rugged path, which followed the wandering of the tumbling Rhian Coil, running angry and muddy red with flood waters from the motmtain. A cold drizzle was beginning to fall. To their lef the great triangular hill of Mynydd Troed rose in a massive shoulder in front of the clouds. Castel Dinas stood sentinel over the pass. It was an awesome, lonely place. Matilda could feel her hore beginning to tremble, perhaps sensing her own fear. Its ears pressed fiat on its head, its eyes staring, it followed its companions as Ifor tddenly wheeled off the track and turned up a steep turf ramp which led to the walls of the castle itself. 'Open up there,' he shouted into the gale. 'Lady de Braose demands entry.' But there was no answer; the gate.house was The hones had come to a rearing halt outside the north entrance. On either side a deep dry ditch encircled the high escarpments of the castle. Before them the gate.houses flanked strong nail-studded gate. The builders had obeyed William's orders well so far. John forced his frightened hore near enough to the gte to gllow him to beat on it with the hilt of his sword. 'Ho there] 'I' he shouted, but the wind whipped the words from his Behind them the clouds were flying up the pass, grey, hiding trees, mountains, perhaps men... From the of her eye Matilda thought she saw something move on the side of the hill. The palms of her hands were with fear and the horse, sensing it, plunged sud fighting the bit, poised to bolt back the way it Then at last a small gleam of light showed in one of the high >fa gatehouse. you lazy clods.' John put every ounce of strength had left into his shout. 'Lady de Brae wants entry to her last they heard the bars being slid back and the great of oak swung open to reveal hell a dozen men, drawn 474 475 swords in their ha--nds, stremlng torches held above their heads for light. Piles of dressed stone and mortar, weird white shapes in the gloom, lay all round in the shelter of the bailey's walls. At the far side the lower part of the new keep showed pale and square, obviously unfinished, in the darkness. 'Who is the constable here?' demanded Matilda. 'Why was there no lookout pte' Prince John and I have ridden far ad fast. We do not expect to be kept waiting outside like serfs.' Her fear had turned to fury. Gripping her whip she wheeled the horse. 'Shut the gates now, you oafs, before hell the countryside wanders in at your invitation. Where is the captain of the guard?' Four of the men ran to push the gates shut and slid the bars across into the sockets. One of the soldiers came forward and dropped on one knee. 'The constable is sick, like rnny in the garrison, my lady. Forgive him He did not know anyone was coming.' The man hesitated and looked quickly over his shoulder at his companions. 'It is hard to keep a full lookout up here.' , Matilda was not to be appeased. 'Hard! Hard to keep a look-out! Then pot some more men, sir. I don't care if you have to carry them up, but do it. You could be attacked and overrun and have the enemy sitting before your fire before you knew he was at the gate.' 'May I ask the nature of the illness which strikes down so many of thil garrison?' John's lazy voice broke in suddenly. 'I don't... I don't know, sir. 'TIS very common...' 'They're all dead drunk Your Highness.' One of the other soldiers stepped forward suddenly, his face lit by the torchlight showing a scar from eyebrow to chin 'That's the illness of Cstel Dinas. If you'd been an hour or so later I'd have been down with h myself, and probably my fine com panious as well. There's not a man will stay sober the night through, here, and keep his sanity.' John looked at Matilda and raised an eyebrow sardonically. 'Perhaps we should join them in their merry making, my lady. God's teeth[ It doesn't look as though there'll be much service here tonight. You, fellow,' he nudged the kneeling mn with his foot. 'Show Lady de Braose and myself the splendours of your new tower. We-need food and wine and warmth.' The man scrambled up and bowing, ran ahead of them towards the keep. It was Spartan indeed. A hearth had been built into one wall in the new fashion but it lay empty. Instead a pile oflogs burned low in the middle of the floor, the smoke straying through the room and escaping at last through the doorway from which they had entered. Around it were the snoring, sleeping figures of a dozen or so men. Goblets and jars of wine had fallen to the floor, and the room stank ofstale wine and vomit. Matilda pulled her cloak to her nose in disgust. 'Get them out,' she ordered, her mouth set. 'But, my lady -' the man looked at her aghast. 'Get them out.' She had raised her voice onlya little. 'Is the hll of my lord and husband going to be used as a pigsty? Get them out, and swill the floor. NOW!' She shouted the last word, stamping her foot. The soldier, with one look at her blng eyes and set chin, bowed and ran to the sleeping forms, setting about them with the fiat ofhis sword. John looked around and then strode to the staircase in the wall. 'Perhaps there is a solar which would be more hab i table,' he commented sourly and ran up, his spurs ringing on -the stone. There was a moment's silence and then she heard him call, 'It's clean and dry here. We'll mke this our bead quarters. Fire and lights!' The last words were bellowed in a meant to be obeyed. Her ,-hustion and fear and the-anger and shame that it when she found the condition of the castle had she had for a moment not fully her predicament. But now it became obvious there chatelaine here, no maids; whatever womenfolk there attached to the garrison, washerwomen or followers, supposed, return to some local vill,t,e or encamp at night. There was no sign of them. She paused at the of the stairway, the stones still dusty from cutting and 477 glanced up at the racing shadows thrown on the stark walls by the torch as the man ran up ahead of her. Up there John was waiting. His manoeuvre, if manoeuvre it was, of getting her alone to Dinas had worked better than he could have hoped. Her heart thumping with fear, she began to climb the stairs. With the help of several of the least drunken of the garrison the solar was made more habitable. There were only planks on boxes provided by the carpenter to sit on, but hay was brought to warm the floor and piles of furs and fleeces, and the wine was good. Cold mutton and rye bread proved the only food, but there was plenty of it, eaten from tin plates on the plank bench. 'I can understand why these men have to get dnmk,' John commented, elbows on knees as he sat chewing a mutton bone. 'Sweet Lord, but this is a wild place. What made you think it was complete?' He gave her a mocking smile as he raised his goblet to hisfips, and she felt herselfblnshing. 'We were informed it was finished and gat'risoned, sir. The accounts called for no more money for stone.' She sipped her wine, grateful for the warmth it spread through her veins. 'The stone's all here, I can see that. It's stacked in the bailey. But the castle's less than half built.' John threw a bit of gristle into the fire. 'lqo chapel, no stores, no inner wall, no other building save the keep. Only the foundations. I saw them in the dark.' Matilda shrugged. 'Sir William will be furious when he finds out. And as for them all being drunk, they should all be flogged. They shall all be flogged.' John raised an eyebrow. He was drinking hard, the heavy wine bringing a flush of colour to his cheekbones. 'You'd enoy that would you, msdm? We'll see what we can arrange foryou. I intend to hold an inquiry myself as soon as it's light and they've slept it off suiYtciently to stand. Don't worry. They'll be p-mihed.' He stood up abruptly and hurled the bone across the floor. 'How. For our sleeping arrangements.' Matilda clenched her fists. 'I htl! not sleep tonight, my lord. I couldn't.' She could hardly order the King's son to go nd sleep below in the hall amidst the stench and filth. She only rely on his sense of chivalry. 'Our escort will you. I shall sit here by the fire.' She stood up and, her back to him determinedly, held out her hands to 'Oh come, Matilda, that's hardly friendly.' He was behind and she felt his hands on her shoulders. 'The warmest would be for us to lie together, surely.' His fingers down until they closed over her breasts. caught her breath. 'That would not be right, Your High she gasped desperately. He was turning her to face him, lips reaching for hers, cutting off her protest as he pulled against him. His body was young, lean and strong, and in spite of her he pressed her against him, Matilda felt own flesh respond, yearning suddenly for the confident, young man after so long with only William to her. In spite of herself she hesitated, yielding slightly, torn with longing. John laughed triumphantly. 'So, we make progress at last, Come.' He caught her hand, pulling her towards the s and furs which had been heaped on the floor in the 'We shall find this journey was, aler all, not goI' Matilda tore herself away from him. 'I think, sire, cannot know what you're suggesting.' She spoke as 'as she could, hoping he could not feel her violent as he caught her arms and pulled her against him He was immensely strong. His hands gripped her r inches now from hen. 'I am wife of Sir William de Brame, not a common whore,' she her momentary weakness gone. She flung his hands .,yes flaming. 'And I think, you forget your new wife. Perhaps you should reserve attentions for her and getting that son you were so for.' 479 There was a long silence. Then John gave a little hugh. She did not dare to look at his face as, suddenly terrified by the audacity of what she had said, she backed away from him. He was breathing fast, his eyes narrowed, his fist clenched on the hilt of his dagger as he watched her and she felt her bones dissolve in an icy trickle ofterror as, slowly, he began to unbuckle his belt. He laid his dagger aside, on the improvised table, then he turned to her again. 'You may be no whore yet, my lady,' he snarled, 'though some would beg to question your innocence when they speak ofyour friendship with Lord de Clare - Oh yes!' he laughed am. 'You colour and look away. So modest, and so shy, ma,-I,m yet your tongue betrays you for a shrew and, by God's bones, I'll make a whore of you as well[ Sir William would not begrudge me a night with his lady, I'll warrant. He follows my star closely. You should do the same. When I'm king I shall remember my friends.' He moved purposefully towards her.'And I shall also remember my enemies, She tried to dodge away round the blocks of stone towards the archway which led to the spiral stair and to escape, but John was there, barring her way. 'Which are you, Matilda?' he whispered, breathing heavily. 'My friend or my enemy?' 'Neither, Your Highness. I am the wife of one of your brother Richard's most loyal subjects -' She broke off, biting her lip, seeing the blind fury in his face as she mentioned the King's rne, cursing herself for her tactlessness. 'And we shall be yours too, sire, should you succeed him,' she rushed on, backing away again. 'Your friends - your loyal friends -' She gave a little cry as he lunged forward and caught her arm and pushed her, stumbling, towards the pile ofruga. He threw her down and stood for a moment over her, staring down in cold triumph. 'Then prove your loyalty, madam,' he breathed. '}4o!' She tried to crawl away, dragging herself across the piled furs, hampered by her heavy skirts. 'Your Highness, please: Think of Isabella. You break your vows of knighthood, sire ' Her anguished cry turned to a scream as, with an oath, he threw himself on her, pushing her violently over onto her back, one hand clamped over her mouth as she tried to scream again, the other groping for her throat. 'Silence, woman!' he hissed. 'Do you want the entire garrison here as spectators to our lust?' She was struggling desperately against him, afraid now only of the pitiless fmgars tightening around her throat as she fought for breath, clawing frantically at his hands, hearing l!nothing but the roaring in her ears as her struggles grew weaker. Then everything grew dark and she lay still. She felt herself moved, her kirtle stripped from her, her gown unlaced and pulled from her body, and she was lying naked on the furs before the fire, struggling for breath through a swollen half-closed throat. Through the darkness saw his face above her, his eyes intense, blue as the sky, his hair and beard gold in the flickering light of the flames. Then all went black once more. His lips took hers, his tongue moistening her dry mouth, her breasts before moving on to caress her and push demandingly between her thighs. She did not struggle, scarcely conscious any more of wb, at he did to her, the arched vaults of the roof, smoky and dark above his shoulders, spin and recede into the darkness, flicker in the and grow dark once more. He took her again and seemingly unconcerned whether she lived or. died, fury and his lust on her acquiescent body, then he her roughly over onto her face and threw himself on again. Her single agonised scream, dragged in pain and from her bruised throat as he drove deep inside was lost in the rancid sheep's wool of the fleece which I nose. It was a long time before she realised that he had at last away from her. Her bruised body, spreadeagled over untidy heap of rugs, refused for a moment to respond as tried to ease her position, wanting to curl up against the hit her now the sweating body of the man left her 480 481 uncovered. With a groan she rolled onto her side and managed to drag the fleece over her, then she lay still, her eyes still closed, her body a mass ofaching bruises. John had pulled on his tunic and mantle. Buckling on his belt with its jewelled dagger he turned to her at last, and stood looking down at her for several moments. Then he smiled. 'If you will excuse me, Lady Matilda,' he said softly, 'I will go and see that the horses are comfortable and fed.' She heard him cross the room and run down the steps. He did not come back. She did not move for a long time then, driven by cold as the fire died, she dragged herself to her feet and, still diT, and confused, groped wearily for her clothes before taking wood from the basket and dropping it on the cooling embers. For ages she stood rigid by the fire as it blazed up again, then at last, weary beyond endurance, she sank to her knees and wrapping herself in her cloak rested her head on her arms on one of the upturned boxes. She slept fitfully, half listening for Johg's returning footsteps, but they did not come. Towards dawn she fell more deeply asleep for a while and then awoke abruptly when somewhere just outside the window of the keep a cock crowed. She was painfully stiff and very cold. The fire had died to white ashes and through the badly improvised shutters in the windows the cold morning light stretched across the floor. A pool of dull light showed in the hearth beneath the broad chimney. Climbing numbly to her feet, Matilda crossed to the window and pulled down the shutter.A mist swam outside, lapping the mountains, condensing like rain on the sill of the embrasure. She shivered. The great hall had been cleaned. A fire had been lit in the fireplace and a makeshift table was already standing on the dais. At it sat John, f'mishing his breakfast. He half rose when she appeared, giving her a mocking bow, then he continued eating. His eyes were cold and uncompromising. Matilda stood for a moment watching him, fighting her 482 and terror as she pulled the hood of her cloak more ' around her bruised throat. ..... 'Come, join me for breakfast, my lady,' he called, not lookup. 'You must be hungry after so disturbed a night.' He a servant from the shadows and indicated his empty every shred of dignity to her aid Matilda across the floor. By the dais she dropped haughty curtsey. The castle seemed full of people this as, reluctantly, she took her place beside the Prince. i -ahame-faced servant brought her bread and mulled wine, scattered fresh rushes on the floor. From some hi the bailey came the sound of harnering. John is the castellan?' he snapped to the man with his 'lqow Lady de Braose is here, bring him at once - let hear the reason for the state of this place.' The servt bowed and m out, returnillg almost at once his hauberk and fully armed. He fell his knees before Matilda. John, seemingly disinterested,. eating. Matilda swallowed painfully. 'Well,' she said with an 'what have you to say?' man's face was grey. 'I am Bernard, my lady. Forgive He claped his hands pleadingly. 'This castle is a terrible can stay here and keep sane. 'I've begged for a but no one comes to relieve us.' He glanced at the , lord, have pity.' snored. 'Pity. When you can't take a little not the discomfort, sir, no indeed.' The man leaned then?' John looked scornful. 'Have the Welsh men been frightening you then?' He put on a sing voice full of sarcasm and scorn. i'lqo sir. We're not afraid of the Welsh.' Bernard was indig 'No, my lady, it's something else.' He dropped his eyes suddenly and shifted his weight uncomfortably from one knee to the other. 'What?' John demanded unsympathetically. 'It's the old ones of the.castle, Your Highness.' His voice had fallen to a whisper. 'They walk the ramparts beside our men. They tramp the ditch, they ride on the hill. They are everywhere in the dark.' He crossed himself fervently and they saw him finger the amulet which hung at his throat. Matilda glanced at John, shivering in spite of herself. 'What nonsense is this you talk?' he asked. 'What old ones of the castle? There's no one in these hills but shepherds and warring Welsh tribes.' Beside him, Matilda's fingers were pressing white on the goblet in her hand. A little hot wine slopped on her wrist. 'They're shadows, Your Highness. Castel Dinas was theirs a thousand years ago. Maybe more. Before Our Lord was born this land belonged to them. We f'md their belongings in the foundations. The ditches and ramparts were dug by them. Their gods still rule, my lord, Christ is not welcome here. The walls of the chapel fall each time we begin to build...' He was speaking quickly now, his hands Inessed together, beads of sweat standing out on his brow. John stood up and leaned towards him across the table. 'God's teeth! Are you telling me that this garrison is reduced to total terror by a pack ofghosts?' His voice was icy. The man lowered his eyes. 'They're real, my lord. I've seen them. Spirits, maybe, from the old da, but they're real. My -lady, please release us. The only way is to abandon the castle to them.' He turned to Matilda at last, his hands pressed together in supplloatiou. 'How dare you suggest such a thing?' John's voice CUt through the an's pleading like a whiplash. 'The pnlshment for desertion is known to you, no doubt. I .think you had better consider well before you suggest abandoning a strategic point 'That is enough.' Matilda rose painfully to her feet and tried to clear her throat. 'You may go for now,' she said 'There will be no punishments until messages have Sir William. You will see to it meanwhile that the and that there is no more drunkenness.' .The man scrambled to his feet, and bowing low, fled from hall. her. 'What, no floggings, Lady Matilda? Do feel that they're justified being lszy good-for-nothing they can tell a good ghost story?' She coloured. 'Perhaps they're right, my lord,' she said 'There is something evil about this place.' from me, you mean?' His voice was heavy as her green eyes sought his and held his stare for a moment. first.. 'It's lonely here certainly,' he said at last, rising to is feet, and walking over towards the hearth, 'and She watched him as he stood looking down into the glowing His handsome face was pale and drawn and there was an about his muscles as he flexed his f'm slowly around the stem of the emhenware cup. She violently. 'The mountains are oien eerie to the sensitive, Your High' she mid soRly. 'I believe the men here are right. The old still walk these hills. This place is theirs and they will their own.' He swung round and gave her a searching look. 'And are their own tOo, my lady?' he said mockingly. 'I think not. gods or ghosts or men did not leap to your defence as I night.' fury which showed for an instant in he took another thoughtful sip from the goblet. 'No, rubbish. I'm prepared to swear that a few floggings and a hanging or two would ensure that no more gods or ever seen here. You cas yourself, my lady? Can be you are afraid of ghosts?' His eyes glittered once more. not, with me here to protect you even if your gods will He took a step towards her. 484 485 Matilda felt the blood drain from her face. 'You are no protection, My Lord Prince,' she said. 'God help the people of this country if ever you should become its kin#' She turned her back on him sharply, trying to steady her shaking hnds. Behind her there was a moment's silence, then she felt his f'mgers lightly touch her shoulders. 'You presume too far, my lady,' he said softly in her ear. 'As you did, Your Highness,' she whispered. 'God forgive you.' His hands fell away, but for a moment he did not move. 'We were meant for each other, Matilda,' he said quietly. 'You cannot fight what God intended.' 'God!' She faced -him abruptly. 'You think God intended you to take me as you did last night?' He gave a half smile. 'He was perhaps the source more of the inspiration thn the method, madam. The result is the same. You are mine.' For a moment she stared at him in silence, her eyes huge as they held his, searching for some trace ofgentleness behind the stark words. There was none. He held out his hand suddenly and taking hers raised it to his lips. 'You have to accept the inevitable, my lady,' he said softly. 'The stars themselves have spelled out our destinies ' 'No!' She pulled her hand away from him violently. 'No, I don't believe you.' He smiled faintly. 'As you wish, but it will be the harder lesson for you to learn. Come, let us inspect the holy well which graces this unholy place. Then perhaps we can return to the Hay. Your hospitality on this occasion does not overwhelm me, madam!' Brushing past her, he pulled his cloak from the stool where he had flung it and ran down the steps into the misty cold sunshine. For a moment she did not move, overcome with fear and disgust, then reluctantly she forced herself to follow him outside. The cold win&wept valley was swahed in feeble sunshine as the heavy clouds streamed past, whilst all around them the mountains rose like evil presences, brooding, guarding Dinas and its secrets. She found she was shivering violently once : more. Dinas Well lay outside the north gate, a small bubbling surrounded by sharp rushes where a low wall of loose had been raised to protect it. There were signs that had been left to the guardians of the well, whoever might be, and garlands of wilted michaelmas daisies decorated the stone. . For a moment John stood staring down at it, then slowly he off his heavy mantle and began to unlace the russet cotte beneath it, baring his breast to the teeth of the gale. Matilda caught her breath in horror. On his breast was an wound in the shape of a crescent moon. He knelt, hesitating for a moment at the edge of the spring then, clenching his teeth, he bent towards it splash the icy mountain water over the wound. It she watched that somewhere the memory stirred at the mind of Jeanne's voice talking about the holy well iof Dinas. It was this water alone which could heal the incur wounds procured by witchcraft; and thi man was a of Melusine - the daughter of the devil, Crossing Matilda turned quickly away her fear and revulsion doubled. It was a long time before she dared turn back as for time he bent and scooped some water into the palm of hand and splashed it over his throat. And when she did saw him tos a gold coin into the opaque green waters pool. At last he rose to his feet, the water still glistening on his 'Let's see what magic this can perform,' he sd as he back on. 'Perhaps it will redeem my good God-forsaken place: Shall we call the horses get out ofhere? I feel we've done all we can. I've seen the of your defences.' He smiled amiably enough, but : flinched at the double-edged cut to his meaning. 'Come,' went on. 'We've seen the weft. I wish to return to Hay. The 487 day is several hours old, and I don't relish the thought of another night here.' There had been no storm in London. Above the high dome of the Reading Room at the British Museum the dry was relent lesaly blue and harsh. Sam Franldyn stretched and sat hack in his seat staring thoughtfully upward. Making up his mind abruptly he began to shut the books in front of him. He closed his slim notebook and twisted round to tuck it into the pocket of the jacket hnging on the back of his chair, then he stood up. He was smiling as he handed in the armful of textbooks at the circular central counter. He made his way out of the museum through the crowds of visitors, pushed out of the swing doors and ran down the broad flight of steps. The heat hit him like a hammer as he headed for the shade of the plane trees in Great Russell Street and began to walk brisidy south west, threading his way purposefully towards Long Acre. Tim. wa peering through the viewfmderof his camera at the brilliantly lit dais in his studio. Nearby George was altering the positioning of the spots trained on a young man holding the leash of a tall, elegantly bored De!mtion. Sam stood in the doorway, surveying the scene over the shoulder of Tim's other assistant, Caroline, who had run down the long fright of stairs in answer to his ring. His gaze rested on Tim and he frowned. The young man on the dais stretched ostentatiously. 'I'll have to take the dog out for a crap soon, Tim, old son. Hurry it up a bit, for Christ's sake.' Tim ignored him. He waved George a few feet to the left and bet once more over the camera. Sam slld into a chair at the back of the studio and sat watching the scene. It was haman hour before Tim had completed the session ,to his satisfaction and the young run and his dog deapatched out into the street. Caroline whispered at lint in Tim's ear and he turned, seeing Sam for the first time as he sat in the shadow. ; 'I'm sorry, Dr Franklyn, I didn't realise there was anyone warily as George and Caroline the dais into darkness and slowly began to tidy away props. Tim moved towards Sam slowly. He was suddenly tired. 'What can I do for you?' stood up and extended a hand with a relaxed smile. 'I to talk to you about Joanna. You were with her in headed for the kitchen. He found two cans of beer in fridge and handed one to Sam. 'Jo is an old friend and a Mr Franklyn. I don't talk about my friends backs.' A look of veiled amusement crossed Sam's face for a split expression was bland once more. know was whether she seemed well and happy. r know, I have been helping her with her problems.' me,' Tim said shortly. How was she?' Sam's eyes were suddenly probing as sought and held the other man's. ripped the ring off his can of beer and flicked it into He looked away. 'She was all right:' , T regressions while you were there?' what we went for.' Low many did she have?' walked to the side of the studio and pulled at the lever slid the blinds back from the huge skylights, flooding sunlight. 'Two or three.' eyes. 'Did they distress her?' distresses her, Dr Franklyn. The fact that could not at first regress under self-hypnosis frightened then when it did happen the experience itself frightened Waking up and having to leave that other world behind to back to this one frightens her too.' She was frightened. But she displayed no physical afterwards. Bruises? Cuts, aches and pains that 488 489 Tim thought for a moment. 'No.' 'Do you have the photographs you took of her?' Tim frowned. 'I don't know that I should show them to you without her permission. 'I'm her doctor, man. I'm in charge of her case.' 'Her case?' Tim glanced at him ha-rply. 'I wasn't aware that Jo was a ce.' 'Tim?' George appeared behind them. 'Shall I start on the film?' He glanced curiously at Sam who ignored him. Tim nodded impatiently. 'Let Caroline help you.' He waited as the two of them collected the cameras and left the studio, then he turned back to Sam. 'Is she still in Wales?' he asked. Sam nodded. 'My brother has gone to her.' A wave of near physical pain swept over Tim and he turned away sharply trying to hide his face, conscious that Sam was watching him closely. He had a feeling that this man could read his mind. 'I'll get the photos,' he said. He moved hastily across the studio and, unlocking a cupboard, produced a portfolio. Laying it on a large table he snapped on the harsh overhead light which hung low over the table and pushed the folio towards Sam. Slowly Sam opened it. His face was impassive as he turned over each successive photo. The pictures of scenery, the castles, the mountin, he barely glanced at. His attention was f'd solely on Jo. Tim walked away miserably. He threw the empty beer can into a bin and went back into the kitchen for another. His guest, he noticed, had barely touched his own. The kitchen seemed suddenly ve7 stark and bare; the white fitments had a surrealist glow in the slanting light from the sun-filled studio. It was like a morgue. He stood in the doorway drinking his beer fast, watching Sam's face which was floodlit by the working lights. Like a Rembrandt painting, he thought suddenly, the one of the doctors lesnlng over the table staring at the corpse. He shuddered violently at the analogy. 'She said it made her feel naked,' he said joining Sam by the table. The, photographing her like that.' Sam did not look up. 'Her expression is certainly very revealing,' he said guardedly. 'Photographs can tell you so much about the subject,' he paused. 'And about the photographer.' He glanced at Tim and Tim stepped abruptly backwards, shocked at the open dislike, even hatred he saw in the other man's eyes. For a moment they held one another's gaze, then Sam looked away. He laughed. 'Perhaps I'm wrong, but I don't think so.' He closed the portfolio and pushed it aside. 'Are these all you have?' 'That's all.' Tim's voice was very dry. He did not allow his eyes to wander towards the portrait on the easel beneath its coVer. Sam foldedhis arms, straightening. 'I knew there was someone else,' he said softly. 'I didn't know who it was until now. Have you been regressed?' Tim did not reply for a moment. HIS instinct told him to be very careful. Sam was dangerous. He wished, as so often these days, that his head was clearer. 'Yes,' he said at last. 'I've been regressed.' Sam nodded slowly. 'So,' he said, mlmost to himself. 'Now there are three.' 'Three?' Tim echoed. Sam smiled. 'The three men who loved the Lady Matilda.' Tim stared at him. 'And you are one of the three,' he said thoughtfully after a moment. The?' Sam said. 'Let us say I'm an observer. Just an observer.' He picked up his beer can and raised it to his lips. +For now, anyway.' Jo had fallen first to her knees, then slowly down until she was sprawled on the grass, her head near a lump of roughly shaped stone. Hick knelt beside her. 'Jo!' he called urgently. 'Jo, for God's sake, can you hear me?' His anger had vanished, the sudden unsought surge of antagonism gone. He took offhis shin and rolled it up, gently pushing it beneath her head, and, worried by her stillness, felt for the pulse in her wrist. It was there, quick and light, but steady, her breahing shallow. As he knelt, helplessly watch- ing her, she flung out her arm with a little painful cry. 'Jo?' he whispered. 'Jo, where are you? Can you hear me?' There was no response. Her eyes did not open; her face was still. He chafed her band gently as the thunder rumbled cleaer be-bind them and he saw a flicker of lightning in the valley. 'Jo, love, you must wake up. We can't stayul here in the rain. Jo!' He spoke more loudly, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her. She groaned, and her eyes opened, but she did not see him. Her gaze went past him to the distant bills. 'Please, no,' she whispered. 'Please.' 'Jo! You must wake up.' Hick shook her again, more roughly this time. 'Jo. Come on! Listen to me.' He let her fall back with a sigh, and touched her face lightly with the tip of his finger. 'Are you with him again, Jo? Is Lord de Clare there?' His jaw tightened. 'Are you lying in his arms at this very moment?' He clenched his fists. 'Why here, Jo? What happened here? What triggered it off?' She didn't answer. Far away in the mists of that other storm, Matilda was staring at the streaming torches of the frightened soldiers. A heavy drop of rain fell on Nick's naked back. He glanced up, aware suddenly of how close the storm had come. The sky overhead was indigo above the soft weight of the slate bellied clouds. Two more drops fell on Jo's white blouse as he stared down at her trying to control the conflict of strange emotions inside himself. 'Christ!' he cried out loud suddenly. 'Oh Jesus Christ!' He bent over her and kissed her fiercely, his eyes closed as he felt the complex web of anger and frustration and desire ride over him. Then it was gone as fast it had come and he was aware only of the fact that he was kneeling on the bleak mountainside with an unconscious woman and that it was about to pour with rain. He scrambled to his feet and gently extricating the shin from beneath her head, shrugged it on. Then he stopped and lifted her from the ground. Slowly he began to descend back tow.ds the car, holding Jo in his arms, wary of the steep ground which was slippery now beneath the rain. He had gone perhaps half the distance back towards the lane when he heard a shout. The rain was falling harder now. He shook his head to clear it from his eyes, conscious of the sweat standing on his forehead. His heart was pounding. Jo was slim, but she was tall, and already her weight was exhausting him tearing at.the muscles of his arms and shoulders. 'Wait man, wait! I'll help you!' The figure was gesticula ring now as it appeared out of the rain, a black and a white collie at his heels. 'An accident, was it?' He was beside Hick now, a small man in plus-fours, incongruous with shinsleeves and a flat cap against the rain. Hick gently lowered Jo's feet to the ground, supporting her weight on his shoulder, gasping for breath. 'She fainted,' he said after a moment, noting with reliefthe broad shoulders and sinewy arms of his rescuer. 'I had to try and get her out of this rain.' 'Put her arm round my neck, here. I'll give you a hand.' The man spoke with c-lm authority. 'We'll get her to my car, see. It's only down there.' He gestured to a stony track leading up from the lane. In the dancing lightning Hick could see a silver Range Rover drawn up on the grass immediately below Between them they lifted Jo into the back, her head cushioned on a rug. Then Hick climbed in beside her as their 493 rescuer vaulted into the driver's seat, the dog beside him. Outside the rain became heavier every second, dD3rnmng on the roof, surrounding them in a wall of streaming water as it poured down the windscreen and slammed against the windows. The man turned, his elbow over the back of his seat. 'They're the devil these storms. They come so fast then in ten minutes the sun is out again. Is that your Porsche I saw a couple of miles back?' lqick nodded. 'We walked farther than I realised.' The man was staring down at Jo. He nodded. 'Easy to do in the mountains. And in this funny old weather too. Will we take the lady to hospital? It'll be easier in this, I reckon.' Hick stared down at Jo. She was deathly pale, her head rolling sideways as the m turned back to peer through the windscreen, heginnirg to ease the car forward slowly up the rutted lane. Her hands were ice-cold. Her breat-hlng very shallow. Hick rubbed her hand gently, and finding another rug covered in dog hair he laid it over her With a sigh he nodded at the man's back. 'Yes, please,' he said. 'I'd he very grateful if you would take us to the hospital.'. Jo flinched at the blinding light shining directly into her eye. She stared up in fright. She was lying flat on her back, staring at the ceiling and a young man was standing over her. 'So, we're awake at last.' He smiled down at her, tucking his flashlight into the top pocket of his white coat. 'That's good. How are you feeling?' He felt for her wrist. She glanced round wildly. 'What's happened? Where is this?' 'Nothing terrible has happened. You're free. You had a bit of a fainting spell, that's all.' Jo stared at him hewildered. 'Are you a doctor?' -'Uh-huh.' He was gently feeling her neck, turning her head fractionally from side to side. 'Have you any headache? Nausea? Any pain anywhere?' 'No. No, I'm free. Please, let me get up.' Disorientated, she .jtruggled to sit upright. She was on a high bed in a small narrow cubicle with a blue circular light overhead. It was slightly. With a groan she lay hack again. 'Could I have a cup of coffee, please?' The doctor smiled at her. 'In a while, perhaps. One of my is coming to have a look at you, then I'm sure we fred something for you to drink. Your fianc is waiting Would you like to see him?' 'My - ?' Jo stared at him, But he had already turned away, :the curtain across the doorway with a rattle ofrings. A Nick appeared.. He looked very strained. i 'How are you feeling, Jo?' he whispered. 'Since when have you been my fmnc?' She managed to sit this time, clin,ttg to the edges of the narrow bed to steady The room was ,spinning. 'I'm glad to see you back in fighting form,' said with a glance over his shoulder at the doorway. 'I'm seemed to give me a bit more status. They might have let me stagy with you. You know what hospitals are I don't know what hospitals are like. I've never been in er mouth was dry. 'Why am I here? 'Don't you remember?' Hick was staring at her. i 'lqo, I don't.' She was suddenly shaking. 'What happened? a car crash?' did not answer for a moment. He took her hand gently his own. '1o, nothing like that. You passed out again. I bring you round. Someone helped me carry you from Castel Dinas - remember? A farmer drove us into and brought us here.' put her head in her hands. 'I don't remember anything. I driving down with Tim...' She looked up sud 'There was a car crash, wasn't there? Tim? Is Tim all Nick a second doctor had appeared, white coat shirt. 'Now, what's all this about a car crash, Miss Clifford?' he said softly. He leaned ai the bed and folded his arms, looking at her. 'She doesn't remember,' Hick said. 'She doesn't seem to 'Perhaps you would wait outside, Mr Franklyn.' The doctor smiled. 'I'd like a word with you in a moment, if I may.' Jo lay back and watched him weakly as Nick disappeared behind the curtain. 'It wasn't an accident?' she said after a moment. The doctor produced a torch as his colleage had done. He bent so low over her face she could feel his breath on her cheek and the touch of his bushy eyebrows on her forehead. 'No, not an accident. Just a blackout. You've had them before, I hear.' 'A blackout?' Jo frowned. 'Yes,.I did have one. A'few weeks ago in Suffolk. That was in a thunderstorm.' As if to underline her words there was a rumble of thunder from outside, barely audible above the noise of air conditioning. The doctor nodded. 'It could be that electrical storms cause you a problem. A lot of people feel uncomfortable in them. Do you feel all right otherwise?' Jo mnaged a feeble smile. 'I'll feel all right as soon as I'm out of here.' He grinned back. 'You'd be surprised how many patients say that. But I think we'll keep you in just a-little while, Miss Clifford. Run a few tests to make sure you are all right. Then if everything is OK you can leave this evening.' Suddenly Jo was too fired to argue. The cubicle was still spivning. She lay back and closed her eyes. Nick collected Jo at six o'clock. 'I've booked a room with your Mrs Griths in Hay,' he said as he helped her to the car. 'We'll go straight there. It's a double room, I warn you now I don't want any fuss. I am not going to iump on you only minutes after you come out of Jo managed to smile wanly. 'I'm glad to hear it. I don't think I'm up to a fight.' 'So, how are you?' He helped her into the passenger seat. i. malin-rer of the fu'st order.' She settled back with a 'They can't find a thin wroug with me.' 'Thank God for that.' He touched her hand tightly as be .ttled hirateifbehind the wheel. `Nick, shouldn't you be on your way to London?' He could See tl strain in her eyes as she turned to him. He smiled. I should, but I'm leaving it until tomorrow. 's nothing that can't wait another day.' She was silent for a moment. Them another thought struck her. 'My car? Where is k?' 'In Talrth. It's quite safe. I rang V.u.;,, and asked him to keep an eye ou it till wc colloct it. c 11 pick up your things as we go by, but I uggeat you don't try and drive. Not yet,' She took a deep breath, trying to collect her wits. 'Vanghan?' she repeated. 'Trchearne Vanghan?' Nick was reachi, to ttlrll on the ignition. He glanced at her sharply. 'Jim Vanghan, Jo. The landlord at the pub we 'Oh.' She looked down at her hds. 'I... Heft it there?' 'This morning. Before we went out on our picnic. Don't you remember?' He glanced at her as they drew up at a mad junction and r he leaned across to ruffle her hair. The clouds s the mountain taking the storm with them, leaving behind a wispy sky. It was cooler now; a light wind had taken away the humidity. Nick reached for the switch which slid back the opening roof. He glanced at Jo again. Her eyes were clmed. 'Tell me how to find Mrs Griffith'$ house,' he mid softly. 'Then you can go to sleep.' 'You poor child. Come on up. I'll help you to yore" room.' Griffha met Jo at the door as Nick pulled their cases just m very sorry you couldn't come here on Wednesday when you asked, but we were so full up, we were.' 497 She took Jo's elbow in her hand and firmly guided her towards the stairs. 'Your fianc said you'd share a room. I hope that is all fight?' Jo nodded wearily. 'That's free, Mr Griffiths, thnk you.' 'And that nice Mr Heacham?' Mrs Griffiths asked curiously as she stopped on the landing, panting. 'Has gone back to London. He was a colleague, as I told you.' The other woman sniffed loudly. 'Colleague he might have been, my dear. But he was very much in love with you. But you know that of course.' Jo gently removed her arm from Mrs Griffith's protective clutch. 'Yes, I know,' she said bleakly. 'May we see our room?' Jo jumped visibly as Nick's voice came from immediately behind them on the stairs. He was carrying their cases. Flustered, Mrs Griffiths threw open the door opposite them. 'There,' she said. 'I hope you like it.' She shot a nervous glance at Nick. The room was a large one. Two single beds)with a foot space between them faced the windows which looked out onto the street. The bedspreads and curtains were of primrose yellow chintzy material and the carpet moss green. Jo walked to the window and threw it open, staring out at the quiet houses opposite. She was trembling slightly. 'This is a lovely room. Thank you.' Mrs Griffiths preened herself visibly. 'I wanted you to have the best this time, my dear. Now, Mr Franldyn said you'd like supper in, so I've put on a nice piece of lamb. It'll be ready about eight, if that is all right with you.' She smiled from one to the other.' My Ted, he loved my cooking when he was alive. He always said my lamb joints were the best he'd ever tasted. Now-' She looked round with quick confident possessive hess- 'I think you'll find you've everything you need. But you've only to call downstairs if you can think of anything.' She glanced nervously at Nick once more as he opened the door for her and ushered her out, then he closed it firmly behind her. He spun to face Jo. 'So, even she could see that Tim Heacham is in love with you!' Jo froze. Slowly she turned to face him. 'Tim has gone back London, Nick. He came here to take photographs. That 'Did you sleet pulled her case up it. 'I didn't sleep with Tim, no.' She had still been Matilda when she had slipped into Tim's and he? Surely, for a few hours he had been once again Earl of Clare. She looked up and met Nick's eye for a moment before be#'-g to pull ciothes from That hard suspicious face, the tightened jaw, the eyes with anger. He had changed again to that other Nick. : Nick who had made her so afraid because he reminded arrogant, Plantagenet prince. She swallowed hard, out ofher mind, shaking out her two hoping he would not see how her hands were trem 'Are there any coat-hangers in the cupboard, Nick?' forced herself to sound normal. 'I think I should change this sumptuous dinner, don't you?' She gave him a aie. 'I'll have a shower and get the smell ofhospital ofmy hair.' Picking up his own grip, he flung it on the other bed. I'll have one after you.' He grinned at her suddenly as a fresh shirt. He was himself again. Jo picked up her dreasing-gown and washing things and door, glad to escape. She wanted to be alone, to try and face the terrible suspicion which was becom every second more real in her mind - that Nick had once John, King ofEngland, the man respoible for her She closed the door behind her softly and took a deep Below her Mrs Griffiths was climbing the stairs once She came to an abrupt halt as she saw Jo with her hand the handle of the door. 'Miss Clifford, I forgot to tell you. After you left here on 499 Wednesday a Miss Gunning rang from London. She said I was to tell you if I saw you again to ring her urgently. You can use the phone in the parlour if you like.' Jo frowned. She glanced at her watch, then back at the bedroom door. 'I might just catch her before she goes out. Thank you. I'll phone straight away.' She followed Mrs Griffiths down the stairs. 'She's my boss in a manner of speaking,' she said apologetically as Mrs Griffiths showed her the phone in what was obviously her private sitting room. 'I'll pay for the call.' Bet was in the bath. 'Jo? Thank Christ you've rung! Where are you?' Jo looked around the small neat room with its deep armchairs with spotless antimacassars. She could smell the lamb cooking. 'Back in Hay. What is so urgent, Bet?' 'Jo, love, I'm not sure how to say thi.% but I had lunch with lqick on Wednesday. We talked quite a bit. Jo, listen, I think, he's going to try and come after you. I know t-hi8 sounds crazy, but I think he's dangerous. I think he's out of his mind. He really hates you, Jo. God knows what's.got into him, but I think he is capable of trying to kill you!' "" There was a moment's silence, then Bet's voice rang out again in the quiet room. 'Jo? Jo, are you there? Did you hear what I said?' 'I heard,' Jo said softly. 'And?' 'And, I hope you're wrong.' Jo's voice was bleak. 'I hope to Godyou're wrong...' In London Judy Curmn was staring curiously round the small neat living room of the house in Gloucester Avenue. Everything was immulately in place. The white sofa with two geometrically designed black and white cushions, the only furniture besides a white table and a phalanx ofbook-shelves down one wall, holding, besides hundreds of books, a stereo system, video recorder and television and a rank of indexed filing boxes. 'A drink, Judy?' Pete Leveson followed her into the room after clming the front door. 'Thank you.' She was still looking round with interest. .: Noticing, he gave a rueful smile. 'This is all the furniture ' first two wives cleaned me out. It's all one needs. ', to sit on, books and music.' She took the glass from him. 'My philosophy too. Only I my guests sit on hard stools, or the floor.' She gingerly herself onto the sofa. 'Are you sure you don't mind , coming over?' Pete walked over to the window. He threw up the lower and sat down on the white-painted window seat. 'I'm you did. I needed some company. So, what's new in 'I'm preparing for a new exhibition.' 'So soon?' He put his foot up on the seat and clasped his round his knee. 'lqot so clever really. I had nearly enough material for two anyway. This one is exciting though. It's going to in Paris. But I didn't come to talk about that. Pete, I need 'You don't need my help, Judy. But you'll have it, for what worth. I enjoyed writing up the last one, and the thought a trip to Paris to write about the next is not entirely to me.' He grinned. 'I might even buy a picture imeo' 'I'm not talking about the exhibition!' Brushing aside his compliment she jumped up restlessly and went to in front of his bookcase, staring up at the lines of titles. want you to... that is...' She turned awkwardly towards 'You know Tim Heacham, don't you?' Pete concealed a smile in his hand. 'Ofconrse.' 'Did yon know he was in love with Jo Clifford?' 'I had heard rumonrs to that effect, yes.' 'He doesn't just fancy her, Pete. It is something much, more...' For a moment Pete saw an almost painful in her eyes and he looked at her with renewed red hair was becomingly tousled, her dark shin and her jeans well cut and for once paint-free. She 501 exuded an air of gamine charm which did not quite conceal the determination which directed all her movements. His eyes rested on her broad almost masculine hands with their neatly trimmed nails. Scarlet talons were more to his taste, but she certainly had something, some underlying current of sexuality which appealed to him enormously. He stood up and reached for her glass. 'Let me get you another,' he said gently, 'I take it you feel that I can help their romance along somehow.' She narrowed her eyes. 'Yes. And for a start you can tell the world what a cock-up Hick has made of his business affairs.' Pete's mouth fell open. 'Hang on a minute. I had the impression that you were rather keen on Hick yourself.' The grey eyes took on a hard glitter. 'I can't think why. If you're afraid ofcriticising his business abilities in print, Pete, try this for size. The reason he has been ignoring the office more and more is because he has been hypnotised too, like Jo. And in his previous existence he knew her before. And he hated her enough to kill her.' She took the rlled glass from him and gave him a knowing smile. 'Surely, you could use material like that,.Pete, couldn't you?' Jo stood for several minutes after she had hung up the telephone, staring out of the window at the roof of the tower of Hay Church, lmost hidden amongst the trees. She was numb. 'Finished then, dear?' Margiad Griffiths popped her head round the door. 'Supper will be on the table in fifteen minttes if you were going to have a quick bath.' Jo looked blankly at the dressing-gown and sponge bag she had put. down on one of the chies. Slowly she picked them up. 'I'll pay you for the call,' she said huskily. 'Bad news, was it dear?' Mrs Griffiths came into.the room properly. 'That white, you are. Here.' She gave a conspiratorial smile. 'Why don't I give you a glass of sherry? That'll perk yon up a bit, so it will. You can take it Ulntairs with you.' Gratefully Jo took the tiny thistle crystal glass of sweet sherry and made her way back upstairs. The bedroom door was still shut. She locked herselfin the bathroom and, drawing the shower curtain round the bath, turned on the tepid water before she pulled off her mud-stained jeans and blouse and stepped under the shower attachment, letting the water stream over her face and breasts, soaking her hair until it turned to a iet curtain ofwet silk on her back. Supper was ten minutes late and Margiad Griffiths was flnstered. 'It's the wine, see. I sent my Dorcen up the road to get you some from the Swan, but I don't know ifit's any good. My late husband, he knew about wine, but I don't like the stuff myself ' She thrnst the bottle at Hick shyly and then handed him the corkscrew. Hick looked gravely at the label. 'That's very nice, thank you. Will you thank your daughter for going to so much trouble,' he said to her witha smile. He grinned at Jo as their hostess withdrew. 'Chambr it certainly is after its voyage back from the Swan, wherever that is. been shaken to the point of shall we say sparkling, if not actually frothing.' Jo managed to laugh. 'The way I feel now, I don't care how it comes as long as it's wet and alcoholic.' She watched him drw the cork and gingerly sniff the neck of the bottle. 'The food she said soberly after a minute. 'And so is the wine, in spite of its adventures. Here's to the intrepid Margiad - isn't that a lovely name?' Hick took a large mouthful. 'And here's to you, Jo.' He met her eye, suddenly i sobering. Jo sat back in her chair. 'There was a phone message waiting for me to call Bet Gunning this evening,' she said. Her grey green eyes studied his face gravely. 'I spoke to ler just now.' 'Oh?' Hick picked up his knife and fork. 'She said she had lunch with you last week.' Hick rn|led. 'Is that why she rang? To tell you what happened?' 'What did happen, Hick?' 'She told me to keep away from you. She said I was ruining your career prospects and spoiling your literary style. She then offered herself to me as compensation. When I declined her kind suggestion she was a little upset. Though not enough, I should have thought, to report back to you. aat was her version?' Jo gave a small smile. 'Much the same. Bet is nothing if not honest. Perhaps she wouldn't have been if you had accepted her offer.' She took a tentative mouthfitl of lamb. 'She also told me she thought you hated me.' She did not look up. Nick said nothing for a moment. 'Hated me enough to want to kill me,' she went on, so quietly he thought for a moment he had not heard aright. 'Jo.' He reached across the table and took her hand. 'Bet is a serf-confessed troublemaker and bitch. She also has a vivid imagination. For God's sake -' His expression turned to one of incredulity. 'You don't believe her?' She shook off his fingers and put down her knife and fork. 'No, ofcom not.' Reaching for the wine bottle she poured ome more into her glass. 'But you have been rather odd, Nick. You 8dmitted it yourself.' Her hand was shaking as she looked up at him. She forced herself to smile. He frowned. Then abruptly he stood up, pushing his chair back, his foodhardly touched. 'Jo, we've got to have this out. I love you -' he gave her an embarrassed grin. 'Not an easy thing for an Englishman to say in broad daylight, but, there, I've said it. I think I've loved you ever since I first met you.' There was a moment's tense silence as they both considered suddenly the deeper implications of what he said. With a shiver Jo looked down at her plate. Her throat had constricted so tightly she could barely breathe. 'Then why did you go to Judy?' she whispered at last. He groaned. 'God knows! Because you told me to go to hell, I suppose.' He paused. 'Because sometimes you make me so angry -' 'Angry enough to want to hurt me -' She looked up at him. he replied explosively. 'It is as if-' he paused in staring out of the window. 'It is as if there is .in my mind which closes down like a shutter. it happens I don't know what I'm doing for a while. excuse, Jo. There is no excuse for what I did to It's perhaps all the more frightening because it's like I don't understand it.' He frowned. 'But it will - cannot happen again.' i Jo ached suddenly to stand up with him and take him in her but resolutely she sat still, staring down at her plate down Nick and eat your supper. Mrs Griffiths will t least make the effort,' she said quietly. expect you've been overworking, what. with the worry everything,' she added, as matter of factly as 'That might explain it all.' :He sat down heavily opposite her. 'It might, I suppose.' He a weary smile. you come here, Nick?' He paused. 'To see you. To be with you.' why?' She clenched her fists in her lap waiting for his 'Because I was worried about you, I suppose,' he replied moment. see.' She bit her lip. 'And you're still going back "I have to. I'm due to fly to New York on Wednesday and do first. Supposing it had happened to or driving, for God's sake!' is no reason it should happen again, Nick.' Jo gave her attempt to eat and laid down her knife and fork. 'I don't I had today was a regression anyway. I just fainted like I did at Ceecliff's. As I told you, the doctor said it was , something to do with the thunder we've been having much. it happened before in a storm, remember? He thinks allergic reaction to electric force fields, or something.' gave a little laugh. 'He said I'd probably be the sort of pukes under pylons.' 505 Nick managed a smile. 'But you didn't tell them about the regressions, did you?' She shook her head. 'They'd have locked me up, Nick. And kept me in for a month for psychiatric tests. If anyone is going to do any tests on me, it's going to be Carl Bennet.' She glanced up at him under her eyebrows. 'Would you come with me, Nick, if I went back to him?' Nick frowned. She saw his fingers clench and unclench around the handle of his knife. 'As an observer, Jo,' he asked quietly after a long pause, 'or as another patient?' She went up at about nine. Nick did not stop her. Nor did he suggest he go to bed too. Instead he let himself out into the street and began slowly to walk towards the church. The churchyard was shadowy. It smelled of new-mown grass in the evening twilight as he sat down on the wall and lit a cigarette, feeling the dew soaking into his shoes. He could see the bats flitting in and out of the darkness of the yew trees round him and once or twice he beardtheir faint asdic squeaks. Slowly it gw dark. He knew he0ught to go back. Mrs Grilfiths would probably be waiting to lock up but somehow he did not want to leave the quiet velvet night. He ground out his third cigarette into the grass with his heel, conscious that the dew was striking chill all round him now. Moths had begun to crawl over the street fight near by, fluttering desperately in its harshness. He watched as the bats swooped through the pool of light, taking the mesmerised insects in quick succession before wheeling out into the darkness again and circling for another swoop. In the distance he heard a clock chime eleven. Reluctantly he stood up. Jo was asleep. He clicked on the lamp beside his bed but she did not move and for a moment he stood looking at her. He had described the strange thing in his mind as a shutter. It was more like a shadowy incubus, lying sleeping in his brain, which every now and then shook itself and stirred and murwhen it spoke he had to obey. He felt the prickle fear touch the skin at the back of his neck, as his mind from the lurking suspicion which had haunt him, But there was one thing he had to face. it was, this alien part of him, Bet was right, it Jo. Gently he pulled the sheet up over her shoulders, touching !rand of her hair as he tucked it around her. Asleep she so vulnerable. Why should any part of him want to her? Bet had seen it. Her bantering and flirting had she had seen the other being in his eyes. Judy. What was it she had said to him? You f.oercn't Sam told you who you were and then he told you what down on his bed thoughtfidly. But his ietrst attack Jo had been before Sam had hypnotised him. And Sam want him to hurt Jo. Angrily he pushed away the mother's voice. You must nezer let Sam hypnotise Nick... did he find out who you were in Matilda's past? let you remember? He remembered suddenly Judy's expression as he had the living room of his flat, intending to and refill it. She had backed away from him and had seen in her eyes the same fear and uncertainty he had in Bet's; Judy too had glimpsed the stranger in him. Jo stirred on her bed and flung out her arm, but she did not Nick looked down at her, then he walked away to the side of the room. He did not dare let him.elftouch her woke at dawn. Her eyes strayed sleepily around the un room focusing on the open window for a moment, she started to shake. She sat up, clutching her pillow to her chest, burying her in it as she tried to control the terror which flooded her. The memory had returned all at once, just as it before, the details three-dimensional in their clarity. Dinas in the threatening storm, Prince John, the drunken men, and her own vulnerability and fear as the King's brother made his intentions clear. She clutched the pillow tighter, seeing again the handsome, drunken face above her, feeling his brutal hands on her breasts, feeling her absolute powerlessness before his determlrttion. 'Are you all right, Jo?' She stifled a scream as Hick's hand closed over her wrist, and tearing herself from his grasp she threw herself to the far side ofher bed.' 'Don't touch me!' She siid out of the bed, still holding the pillow, and backed away from him. She was trembling violently. 'I'm not going to touch you, Jo.' Hick moved back. He sat on the side of his own bed, his eyes on her face. 'You've had a bad dream, that's aft.' 'A dream!' Her face was white as she stared at herself in the dressing-table mirror. 'Do you think a dream did t-hi? And this?' She thrust her wrists at him and then her shoulder in the thin silk nightdress with its ribbon straps. Both were bruised and there was a long scratch on her neck near her collar bone. Her throat was braised and swollen. Hick stared at her in horror. He bad become suddenly very cold. 'Jo! I hope you don't think I did that, for Christ's sake. I didn't do it!' 'Didn't you?' She was like a trapped animal, her shoulders prel against the wall. 'How do I know it wasn't you?' 'It wasn't, Jo.' Hick moistened his tips nervously with his tongue. 'You were asleep last night when I came back from my walk. I didn't touch you. I slept here in this bed, until just now when you woke me. For God's sake, Jo! Do you think I could do that to you in your sleep and you not wake?' He w. as breathing heavily. 'You've had a dream. Another regresston in your sleep. It wasn't anything to do with me, Jo.' She was a tittle calmer now. He saw her arms still defensively clutching the pillow, her face pinched and white. 'Ho,' she breathed at last. 'It was at Castel Dinas, I remember now.' She took a deep painful breath. 'We rode there with the Prince's men. There was a storm and the castle guard was terribly frightened - of the ancient gods. I don't know who were. Celts, or Druids, I suppose, but they still walk the and I were there, Alone.' 'John?' Hick whispered. He could feel the goose bumps rising on his skin. Jo looked at him directly for the first time. 'Prince John,' said. They stared at each other in silence. Hick tried to swallow the sudden bile which had risen in his 'And he did that to you?' he said slowly. She nodded. He could see the accusation in her eyes. 'It was . Nick ' 'No!' He launched himself from the bed. 'Jo, get a grip on k was not me! You were in a trance. No one touched except inside your hed. I took you to hospital and they you there for hours whilst they examined you. There a mark on you. Not yesterday, not last night. It hap in your sleep, Jo!' Gently he took the pillow from her put it back on the bed, then he caught her hands. They ice-cold. 'Jo. I think we should see Bennet. As soon as He pushed her into a sitting position on her bed. She was looking up at him. Tentatively she raised her hand , over his eyes and nose. Suddenly eyes filled with tears and she threw her arms around his 'Oh, Nick, don't let it be true. Please,' she cried desper it be true.' cigar smoke wove around fluted silver candle and drifted up to the high ceiling, curling beneath plastered mouldings. Ponderously Sam stood up, a glass port in one hand, and walked down the long table to a its head. He put down his glass and extended hand. 'Dr Bennet? My name is Samuel FrnHyn.' up and surveyed him briefly, then he indi the empty place beside him. 'Please, sit down, Dr hoped we might meet here this evening,' he said. 'We have a patient in common, I believe.' He glanced up once more, his eyes narrowed. 'One of the most interesting cases I have ever come across. Cigar?' Sam shook his head. 'She has finally changed her mind about us conferring - now that it is too late for me to stop you becoming involved - did she tell you?' Bennet raised an eyebrow. 'She did not. But I did intend to have a word with you anyway, I must confess.' He was studying Sam's face with interest. 'When did you last see her professionally?' 'On the twelfth. You were away, I believe.' Bennet nodded slowly. 'I saw her the following week. We had a very disturbing session during which I ried, at her request, to .suggest to her that her interest in her past life would lessen or be lost altogether. She rejected the suggestion and became very disturbed. It was necessary to sedate her. I have not spoken to her since then. She missed her next appointment.' Thoughtfully he kept his eyes fixed on Sam's 'She went to Wales.' Sam took a sip from his port. 'She decided to try and check some of the facts and locations of these regressions for herself. And now, I gather, she has begun to regress spontaneomly.' Bennet sighed. 'Auto-hypnosis. I was afraid that might happen.' 'And not entirely involuntary, I think. I gather you believe in this reincarnation?' Bennet smiled warily. 'I try to be objective about my patients. In fact I had contacted one or two people with whom I would like to have confronted Joanna. A medieval historian. A linguist who would question the Welsh she has begun to speak from time to time. A colleague, Stephen Thomsonyou've probably come across him- all of whom would be better equipped to judge the material she is producing. They could tell us so much about where all this is coming from if she could only be persuaded to return.' Sam gave a slow smile. 'She will return, I'm sure of it. My brother is with'her in Wales at the moment, and I think he'll see to it, one way or another, that she comes back. You met my brother, I believe?' he added thoughtfully, after a moment. 'On more than one occasion.' Bennet laughed ruefully. 'He does not trust me, nor my trade.' 'No, he wouldn't.' Sam fell crytically silent. He helped himself to some more port and passed the decanter on round the table. 'I would be interested myselfin your experts' views. And so I think would Nick.' He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. 'He worries me sometimesi Nick,' he said reflectively. Beunet refrained from commenting. He was watching Sam closely. 'He is becoming more and more unstable,' Sam went on. 'With violently swinging moods. If he were a patient I would be a little concerned by now. As his brother I find it hard to be objective.' He gave a disarming grin. 'There didn't seem much wrong with him to me.' Bennet leaned sideways, his elbow on the back of his chair. 'He is worrying about a woman with whom he is obviously deeply in love, that's all' He paused. 'He also is, I think, a deep trance subject him. I should like the chance to regress him. I sense a soul much troubled through the ages, I should hazard a guess that you think so too.' Sam's hand, lying on the table near his glass, bad closed .into a fist. 'I am not sure I share your belief in reincarnation, Dr Bannet.' 'That surprises me.' Bennet smiled faintly. 'I pride myself in having a nose for these things and I should say you have reason to believe you have much in common with your brother.' 'Possibly.' Sam gave him a cold glance. 'If I were to persuade him to bring Jo to you again, will you assemble your experts? But no more suggestions that she forget Matilda. She has to follow the story through.' Bennet frowned. 'Has to?' 'Oh yes, she has to.' Sam stood up. He held out his hand. 'It's been very interesting meeting you, Dr Bennet. I'll be in 510 511 touch when Jo and Nick return to London...' He gave a small bow and turned away, walking slowly back along the table towards his original seat. Bennet watched him as he went, a preoccupied frown on his face. There was something about Dr Sam Franldyn which diaturbed him greatly. Jo and Nick arrived in Carl Bennet's comulting room the following Tuesday. Besides Carl and Sam, there were three strangers present. Bennet took Jo's bnd when she came in 'Let me introduce you to my colleagues, my dear. This is Stephen Thomson, a consulting physician at Barts. He is somethi-g of an expert on stigmata and other phenomena of that kind.' He gave her an impudent grin.'And this is Jim pxnan, a medieval historian who knows a great deal about Wales, and this is Dr Wendy Marshall who is an on Celtic languages. She is going to try and interpret some 6fthe Welsh words and phrases you come up with from time to time. She will knoy at once if they are real - and from the right period.' Jo swallowed. 'Quite a barrage of experts to try and trip me up.' Bennet frowned. 'If you object, I shall ask them all to leave, Jo.' He was watching her nioualy. 'I don't mean this to be an inquisition.' 'No;' Jo sat down resolutely. 'No, if I'm a fake, no one wants to know it more than I do.' She gave Sam a tight smile. He was seated unobtrusively in the corner of the room, wat-ch ing the others. He had nodded to her briefly, then his gaze had gone beyond her, to Nick. Bennet glanced at Sarah, ready by her tape recorder, then he smiled. Around them the others were arranging themselves, leaving Jo alone, seated in the centre of the room. 'Shall we begin?' he said gently. He sat down next to her. Jo nodded. She sat back, her handsloosely clasped in her lap, her eyes on Bennet's face. 'Good,' he said after a moment. 'Yon have learned to relax. you had been practising.' Every eye in the room was on him as gently he talked Jo back her trance. Within seconds he was content. He looked over s shoulder at Sam. 'The self-hypnosis we were discussing has She doesn't really need me, save as a He straightened and looked at the others. 'She is ready questioned. Who would like to have a go first? Dr Mar what about you? Would you perhaps like to ask her some'. in Welsh? She has, as we all know, maintained that she no knowledge at all of the language in this incarnation, I suspect that would be very easy to prove one way or the questions of historical detail.' Wendy Marshall nodded. She was a tall, slim woman in her early forties, her hair an attractive brown, drawn back into a at the nape of her neck, to fall in undisciplined curls down back. Its exuberance contrasted sharply with her severe. and the puritanical simplicity of her linen dress. Picking up the clipboard which had been resting on her knee she stood up and walked towards Jo. 'Nawr te, arglwyddes Mallt.' She launched at once into a torrent ofwords.'Fefaswn i'n hoffi gofyn ichwi ychydig cwestiynau, os ca i... I have told her that I'm going'to ask her some questions,' she said over her shoulder. The silence in the room was electric. Nick found he was clenching his fists, as, like everyone else, he watched for Jo's reaction. 'A ydych chi'n fyn deall i? Pa rydw i'n dweud? Fyng arglwyddes?' Wendy went on after a moment. There was a long pause. Jo gave no sign of havingheard her. Her attention was t'ned somewhere inside herself, far from the room in Devonshire Place. Wendy gave a shiver. She glanced at Bennet. 'I just asked her ifshe understood me,' she said in an undertone. 'She looks completely blank. I am afraid it looks as though she has been fooling you.' Hick stood up abruptly. He walked towards the window and stared out, forcing him.*.elf to stay calm. Behind him, Sam's gaze followed him thoughtfully. 513 Nick spun round. 'You think she's been lying?' he burst out. 'You think the whole thing is a hoax? Some glorious charade we've all made up to amuse ourselves?' 'Nicholas, please.' Carl Bennet stood up. 'I am sure Dr Marshall is implying no such thing.' He turned to Jo. 'Can you hear me, Lady Matilda?' His tone was suddenly peremptory. Slowly Jo looked towards him After a moment she nodded. 'You have told us that you speak the language of the hills,' he said firmly. 'I want you to answer the questions tiffs lady asks you You can see this lady with me, can't you, Matilda?' Jo turned to Wendy, looking straight at her. Her eyes were strangely bl-nk. 'Speak to her again now' Bennet whispered. Wendy raised a disbelieving eyebrow. 'Fyng argO, dymw.h am y Cymry sy'n dn'go o gennpas y Gelli, os geoetycA chi'n dda,' she said slowly, speaking very distinctly. ' YdycA chi'n fyn deall ' Jo frowned. She pushed herself forward in the chair, her eyes focused now intently on Wendy's face: ' Y... y Cymry o gwmpas y Gelli?' she echoed hesitantly. 'That's it!I've asked her to tell me something about the people of Hay-on-Wye,' Wendy said quickly over her shoulder, her face suddenly tense with excitement. 'Eres ych araith,' Jo said slowly, fumbling with the words. 'Eissoes, mi a wn dy zddrol di. Managaf wrthyt yr hynn a ovynny ditheu . . . pan kyrchu y Elfol a oruc Rh$ . . .' 'I will tell thee of what thou desirest.., of Rhys's attack on Elfael,' Wendy murmured, scribbling in her notebook. 'Slowly. Yn afar.' She had forgotten her irritation with Bennet and with Nick as soon as Jo had started to speak. Sitting down close to her she waited for a moment, her eyes intent on Jo's face. 'S/aradzoch e, yn afar, os oelycA chi yn dda,' she repeated at last. 'Slowly, please. Yn araf iawn.' Jo gave a little half smile. She was looking beyond Wendy now, towards the windows as if she were watching Nick. 'Rhys a d3nmwt y caffei ef castdl Fallt a gyrrei ef Wilym gyt a'y mibion o Elfad a Bryctiniog mgys rye yrrassd wyntu y Maes-y-fed.' She paused thoughtfully. There was in the room, broken only by a quiet rattle as Sarah her pen on the table in the corner; it rolled unnoticed the polished surface to fall silently onto the carpet. 'Don't tell me that's not real Welsh she's speaking,' Bennet said triumphantly. 'What is she saying now?' Wendy shook her head. 'It is Welsh,' she said quietly, 'but The pronunciation is unusual and the syntax.., that use of the old perfect form dywawt is striking. It's an early Middle Welsh form which has disappeared. And also very odd is her use of the verbal panicle ry with the pronouns, meaning "them", following it. Such usage is very early.' She looked round at the others. 'You would not expect to fred it even in the Middle Welsh of the thirteenth or fourteenth century. It is very, very interesting.' 'She is talking to you from the twelfth century, Dr Marshall,' Sam put in quietly. 'You would not, I am sure, expe anything other than twelfth-century speech.' Wendy swung round to look at him. 'She speaks modern English,' she said sharply. 'Using your criterion I would her to speak the language of Layamon, or even more likely Norman-French. But not the English of the 1980s.' Sam shrugged. 'She has a twentieth-century brain, Dr Marshall. The memories she is drawing on include the languages she would have spoken at the time. But they are being relayed through the medium of a twentieth-century woman who, until now, has been instructed to answer in the twentieth-century idiom. Why don't you address her in old French? Or even Latin. See what happens:' 'Pan dducpwyt chwedyl o'n orchyfygu vi i yngastell Paen,' Jo went on suddenly, completely oblivious of the exchange going on over her head. 'Gzoybuum mineu yna ymladd a wnaem ninnu. Nyt oed bryd inni galro cymhorthiaid . . . ' 'What is she saying now?' Bennet leaned forward urgently. 'Wait! I am trying to understand her,' Wendy snapped. She was frowning intently. 'She said she would have to fight. There was no time to salmmon aid...' 'Where? Where is she?' 'Pain's Castle is it? She is going to defend Pain's Castle.' ' Yglawr mawr - Y bu yn drennm etto,' Jo went on. 'Te heavy rain, it was still heavy ...' Wendy echoed under her breath. 'Oed goed twe ymhob cyfer -' 'There was thick forest all around -' ' Y clywssam fleiddyeu pellynnig -' 'We could hear distant wolves.'. Jo was sitting bolt upright suddenly, and she had begun to talk very fast, growing more fluent by the second as her tongue became accustomed to the unfamiliar sounds she was uttering. Her eyes were wide open, the pupils dilated, and she was becoming more and more excited. 'Tell her to speak English!' Beunet interrupted sharply. 'I think we've proved our point beyond any doubt. Tell her, quickly ' 'Dyna igu Siarach Saerneg yn nawr, osf dim ots chi.' Wendy leaned forward and touched Jo's arm, almost reluctantly. Jo drew away. She was staring beyond the people sitting around her in the room, into the far distance, where she could see an untended fire, burning low, and acrid smoke billowing around the castle hall as first one log and then another sfipped from the dogs and fell into the ashes. She was hearing the silence of that cold desolate night, torn by the ugly shouts and scr rn-* of men and the angry clash of swords as the first wave of attackers was beaten back from the scaling ladders they had flung up against the walls. She and she alone must take command. The lives of every man and woman in the castle depended on her now that the castellan was dead. Slowly she stood up and drew her cloak around her, then she turned towards the door. Somehow she must fred the strength to take up his sword. 'Smso, fyng arglw3ddes. Nid ydyn ni ddim i'n eich deall chfl' Wendy cried. 'Speak English. We can't understand youl' Jo stopped abruptly in the middle of her flow of words. '.vynnwch chwi y dywettwyf i Saesneg?' she repeated, puzzled. 'Saesneg ... English ... I must talk English?' Then, haltingly, she began to speak once more in a language they all understood. 517 29 Bennet put his hand on Jo's forehead for a moment. 'Quiet now, lady. Rest,' he commanded gently. He looked at Nick. 'So now you know about the siege of Painscastle. Your Matilda was a courageous lady, to hold the place until help came. She doesn't seem too tired. Shall we go on?' Hick nodded. 'Why not? She's not upset.' 'Does anyone else want to question her?' He glanced at Jim Paxman, who shook his head. 'For now I am intrigued. Later, perhaps, I'd like to cross-question her further.' There was a pencil in his hand. 'I'm making some notes of things I'll ask her. So far her detail is uncanny! 'And accurate?' Sam's cold voice from the comer made them all glance round uncomfortably. 'I haven't faulted her on anything yet,' Jim replied cautiously. 'But there is so much more there than I or anyone else could verify, even with the minutest study of the chronicles. No, Carl, please, get her to carry on. I want to hear more of her fmily. And more of the campaign. Rhys didn't leave it at that, you know. Ho way. He went back!' Carl nodded. He turned back to Jo. 'Matilda,' he said softly. 'Tell us what happened next.' It was nearly dark. Matilda sat in the window trying to match some final stitches into her embroidery, in the private solar she used as her own in the castle of Hereford where William was now the sheriff. Impatiently she selected a length of golden thread and squinted up against the last flsing gold of the western sky to try and thread it. The knock at the door made her bend the thread and she cursed under her breath. She had been treasuring the hour of silence alone in the upper room, with even her daughters and her women chased away, and she longed to prolong the moment if she could. Her head ached a little and her eyes were sore, but as long as she could still see to sew she had the excuse to remain alone. The knock sounded again more urgently and this time the heavy handle turned. 'My lady?' Elen put her head round the door. 'Elen, I told you I want to be alone. For a while, just until full dark.' 'I know, my lady,' Elen grinned unrepentantly. 'But you've a visitor, see, and I thought it was time I lit the sconces and saw about sorting a few things in the garderobe here. And look at you,' she scolded suddenly, 'trying to work in the dark and ruining the sight of your eyes as you sit there, is it?' She pushed open the door and hurried across the room. Behind her, on the threshold, stood Richard de Clare. He was alone. In spite of herself Matilda felt her heart give a lurch at the sight ofhim. Seeing her, he bowed, his old grin nnmlstakable, lighting his face. He held out his hands. Matilda glanced at Elen, who was fussing about with a righted spill, going from sconce to sconce, but the woman kept her back ostentatiously turned and after a moment she disappeared behind the curtain into the garderobe. 'Richardl' She could hold back no longer. Her hands outstretched, Matilda ran to him and felt for a moment his strong arms around her, the touch of his tips on hers. Then gently, too soon, he was pushing her away with another fight kiss on her forehead. 'Oh Richard my dear, my love! It's been so long.' 'It has indeed.' He stood back, still holding her hands and looked her up and down slowly, his eyes taking in every detail of her slender upright figure. Her hair seemed as burnished as ever beneath her head-dress. His own, as he saw ruefully that she had noticed, was nearly white 'Richard, what happened?' She reached to touch it with longing, wistful fingers. He grinned. 'Married life, sweetheart, and premature old age, combined with our East Anglian Weather and the ministrations of your son. He is with me, by the way.' 519 Behind them Elen cleared her throat loudly before appearing in the doorway. 'My lady, Sir William has finished with the sheriff court sessions for the day. His brother-in-law Adam Porter is here and he is with him at present, but I'm thinking he was about to come up here.' She was carrying an embroidered surcoat over her arm. 'I'd best be here when he comes.' Matilda glanced helplessly at Richard, who merely smiled and shrugged. 'He never forgave you, you know, for supporting William Longchamp ag-in.t Prince John,' she whispered. Then with her voice politely social again, 'Are you pleased with Reginald? I was so glad when he became your. esquire. You should have brought him up with you to see me, Richard. I suppose he's grown so large I'll not recognise him like my other boys.' She sighed. 'It's hard to think ofmyselfas mother to so many enormous children, Richard, I don't feel old.' He threw hack his head and roared with laughter. 'No one else would believe it either, sweetheart. Your. waist isn't an inch wider t-h- when I first saw you. Do yotremember? Just after your wedding, when you came to Bramber and I saw you riding across the saltings with William. So tall and stiff you were on your horse, with your htir newly put up beneath your veil and wanting to tumble down again, like a maiden's.' He raised his hand gently to her temple and then -imost guiltily let it fall. They had both heard the frm step on the stairs and they drew slightly apart. William, when he appeared, was in jovial mood and seemed content to forget his pofitical differences with Richard. He had never over the years by so much as a hint betrayed whether or not he had ever heard any of the rumours which she knew had abounded about her love for Richard, and now as always when she saw the two men together she could not help wondering, comparing, and guiltily moving to hr husband's side. William, for his part, flung out his arms expansively at the sight of his visitor and embraced him. 'I heard you'd arrived. How is Renid behaving .in your service? Moll, help me with my tunic. Where are the pages?' shrug the heavy garment offhis shoulders. 'My I'll be glad when this spell at Hereford is over. Being all very well, but dispensing the King's justice after a while, I can tell you. I need some to loosen up my bones again.' heard about your extra duties, William. congratulatious. I see you are a man to be reckoned with Wilham beamed, holding his arms out for the new tunic Elen had brought to him. 'I think you might say so,' he 'I think you might say so.' William returned to his duties in the court room the Matilda and Richard ordered their horses their hawks and rode ut of Hereford towards the south great forest of Aconbury. The leaves were every turning to russet and gold and the horses' hoooes the rustling carpet, stirring the bitter scents teased the nostrils and caught at the back of Matilda's slightly ahead of her, his eyes screwed up the frosty glare, but after a while he reined back alongside 'Tell me, how have things been, my dear?' he said quietly. you heard any news ofyour little Tilda?' Matilda's heart lurched. Did Richard know? Had he ever that her strange silver-haired daughter was his? She in her throat with an effort and, summou a smile, she managed to nod. 'Gerald saw her in the I am a grandmother, Richard.' Her eyes sparkled sus for a moment and Richard found himself fighting to touch her h-n-d.-'She has a little son,' she went on. Ienanc, young Rhys, after his grandfather, God rot searched herface for a moment. 'Rhys took Malit's end, of course.' Her face tightened with anger. 'As you say, he returned the last of the snow with no warning and with such a force there was no time for the constable to summon 521 aid. William had gone to fight in Aberteifi with Will - Rhys only agreed to spare the castle if they abandoned the campaign in his lands and came back to Hay.' 'And he agreed,' Richard said quietly. 'I could not understand why. It seemed unlike William.' She smiled ruffully. 'Whoever understands Willim my dear? He is a law unto him.eif.' There was a long silence as the horses walked slowly on, then Richard spoke again. 'I came to Hereford with a proposition, which I hope will please you. I must put it to William, but I should like your tiews. It touches us very closely.' His eyes were fixed on the gilded leather of the rein in his hand. She followed his gaze, noting absent-mindedly how thin his hands had become, the ioints slightly accentuated. 'I should like my daughter, little Mattie, to marry one of your sons. If you agree, I think Willim might find the match acceptable.' She didn't answer for a moment. The sun's rays brewing through the thick treetops of the copse in, to which they had ridden fell across the party, throwing a gold veneer onto the horses' coats. At the heels of her mre an excited dog suddenly began to bark, and was at once silenced by an angry command from a huntsman behind them. There was a lump in her throat when at last she spoke. 'I should like that, Richard. Above all I should like that.' She paused again. 'You were thinking ofReginaid, Isuppose? Have they formed an attachment to one another? That is good. Giles anyway plns to take Holy Orders after Oxford and then Paris. But Reginald - oh yes, I am sure that William would approve of a link with the house of Clare for Reginald.' She looked up at him and smiled. 'Yes, it's what I had hoped for, Richard. We have plans for the two girls of course. Margaret is to marry Walter de Lacy and William is hoping for an alliance with the Mortimers for little Isobel, but mar rlages for the other two boys have not yet presented themselves. I think,' she dropped her eyes, almost embarrassed, 'I think Willim is becoming very ambitious, Richard. I think : has set his sights very high for the future.' Two days later Richard left. Matilda was standing in her giving orders to her steward when Elen brought him in. , dressed for the road. 'My lady,' he said formally. 'I come to take my leave.' luill with which she the lists before her. It was a moment before could look up. 'Must you leave so soon, Lord de Clare?' steward bowed and leit the room and she was of Elen rounding up the ladies who had been at with their sewing near the fire. In moments the place , but for themselves. As the heavy door closed behind the last of them he caught hnds in his. The pen fell to the rushes as he raised them don't know how long it will be before we see each 'Richardl' she whispered in anguish. She clung to him raising her lips to find his, as her eyes fdled with 'I thought growing older would teach me seus' she 'I thought at least it would be easier to bear as on.' He held her so tightly she could hardly breathe. 'It will my darling, never. That is our punishment forbidden love.' His lips touched her eyelids gently. 'If of our children can find love with one another, perhaps will ease our own pain. At least William has agreed in to the idea.' She nodded, unable to speak, clinging to him desperately. 'I have to go,' he said at last. Gently he tried to release her arms. 'I know.' She clung to him even harder. 'Oh Richard, take of yourse, my dear.' She reached up for a fmai kiss. of them spoke for several mimltes, then at last straightened and fu'mly pushed her away. 'We will again.' He forced hlmlfto smile. 'Who knows, maybe t Mattie's and Reginald's wedding. God willing!' He caught it quickly, then he turned and swung out 522 523 of the tall, vaulted chamber and disappeared, his spurs ringing on the stone of the staircase as he ran down towards the entrance to the keep. Behind him Matilda began to cry. 'That's enough!' Nick crossed the room in two strides. His eyes were blazing. 'Wake her up. How, man. Quickly!' Tears-were pouring down Jo's face as she spoke, her words lmost unintelligible through the violence of her He sat down beside her, his arm around her shoulders. 'Wake her up, man. She's had enough!' Sam pushed lim.elf away from the wall against which he had been leaning. 'Don't interfere, Hick. Grief is all part of life's rich pattern. She sinned. She has to suffer.' His voice was heavy with irony. 'Surely you of all people would agree with that.' Hick glared at him and, as Bennet and his colleagues watched, the concern and anguish wnished from his face to be replaced by cold anger. 'She is weeping for Richard de Clare!' he said through clenched teeth: 'One of John's 'advisers and even his friend! Dear Ged! She mocks me, even now! Haunting her love of the man and rejecting me. Me! As if I were no one.' They stared in astonishment at the .arrogant fury of his expression, so unlike anything that anyone who knew Hick had ever seen, and they saw the colour run up his neck to suffuse his face. " Bennet stood up hastily. 'Steady, my friend,' he said, laying his hand on Hick's arm. 'Jo was mg no one. Couldn't you see how she was being torn?' Hick shook off the hand and dragged his eyes away from Jo's face, visibly struggling within himself, his jaws clenched as he stared at Bennet. He was looking straight through him as ifhe weren't there, oblivious of the presence of anyone else in the room. The sweat was standing out on his forehead. Bennet glanced at Sam. 'What is wrong with him?' he said sharply. 'This man is possessed in some way!' 524 shook his head. 'As I told you, I suspect my brother incipient mood disorder,' he said quietly. 'It is becom ; less easy to hide -' Bennet snapped. He clicked his f'mgersin front face. 'He is as much in a trance as Jo. He has been -but not by me, I think. This is a reversion of kind. Has he been having hypnotherapy, do you know? regression hlm.elf?' raised an eyebrow. 'Under the circumstances, would be surprised if he had?' Bennet looked up at him and pushed his spectacles of his head. 'I am merely concerned in case he has himself to someone who is less than competent.' two men held one another's gaze for a long moment. It Sam who looked away first. am sure he wouldn't do that.' Sam did not bother to hide amusement. 'Why don't you ask him what he's been up He turned to Hick. 'Hicholas, you are making a fool of brother,' he said sharply. 'Wake up! Look at all these ,atching your performance!' Hick glanced round. For a moment he looked bewildered. he gave a sheepish grin, the anger gone from face. sorry. I don't know what came over me. I didn't know I was saying -' right,' Bennet said slowly, lie was rutining closely. 'You didn't say anything to worry about. How, we can do for Jo, shall we? It is, after aih her we lie gianced round at the others. question her further before I awaken her? Jo stared round the room blankly for a moment as she her awareness of the present day. Her nose was Unobtrusively Sarah picked up a put them down on the sofa beside her. Jo one. 'Sorry,' she said miserably. 'It's so silly to be I can't seem to stop crying.' 'I'll make coffee,' Sarah said softly. 'For everyone. I think 525 that should be the next priority before anyone asks any questions.' 'But I want to know,' Jo said. She blew her nose. 'Did I speak real Welsh? Did you understand what I was saying?' She looked at Wendy. Wendy nodded. 'You spoke a version of real Middle Welsh. I don't think there is any possibility at all that you could have picked that up by accident, or without long and intensive study, so it would not have been cryptomnesia. Your pronounciation was fluent if unusual - I have no way of knowing if it was genuine of course, but I suspect so. I am completely lost for an explanation as to how you could have done it.' Bennet smiled. 'You are still not content with my explanation then?' Wendy laughed. 'I'm reserving judgement. A ydych chi'n fyn de, all i? Pa rydw i'n dud? She turned back to Jo suddenly. Jo shook her head, and shrugged. 'It's no use. It's gone. I don't understand any more.' She put herhands to her head. 'What did you say?' 'I only asked whether you still understood me.' Wendy stood up and threw her notes down on the table. 'It is extraorditmry. Quite extraordinary!' She swung round to face Carl. 'Could it be some kind of poasession? Or even a case of multiple personality?' 'There is no question of it,'Carl said swiftly. 'Jo came to me with no history whatsoever of mental or personality problems. Whatever this is, I am certain in my own mind that it is from her own past.' 'And it has now become part of her present,' Sam put in quietly. 'I suspect that the past was unresolved. Perhaps resolution can only come in this life.' Jo shivered violently. 'Sam! That's horrible! What are you saying?' 'People are not reborn without a purpose, Jo. They return to progress or to expiate their sins.' 'Rubbish, man!' Jim paman- gave Sam a look of undisguised dislike. 'I have never heard such arrant nonsense. If this is an echo from the past, then that is all it is, an echo. With no more meaning or lmrpo than the accidental replaying of old record. This woma-- is in some way acting as an instrument, a... a...' He groped for the right word. 'A medium?' Wendy put in thoughtfully. 'If you like, but that has psychic connotations which I don't accept. We are not dealing with ectoplasm or crystal balls here. That is not what we are talking about at all.' 'Aren't we?' Nick said. Everyone looked at him. There was an expectant silence. Behind them Sarah pushed open the door. On her tray were eight cups of coffee. Sam and Nick both went back to Cornwall Gardens with Jo. They were all silent in the taxi and once they were in the flat Nick went straight to the cupboard in search of the bottle of Scotch. Jo threw herself down on the sofa. 'I feel as if I've been through a mental mincer,' she said. She put her arm across her eyes. 'Isn't it fnnny? I thought today would prove something - either that I'm hallucinating, or inventing things or that it is all real and I am the reincarnation of Matilda de Braose, and yet, with all that talk and all that argument and all .those experts, it has proved nothing. In fact now it is worse. All they have done is make me terribly aware of the fact that there are a whole lot more theories to account for my condition than I had ever thought of and I am more muddled than 'Forget it all, Jo.' Nick sat down near her with a sigh. 'Why the hell should you turn yourself into a specimen under the microscope for that lot? Or me for that matter.' He frowned. 'We know what we believe. That is what is important.' 'And what do we believe?' Sam put in. 'That's the point!' Jo sat up. The Scotch had brought the colour back to her cheeks. 'I don't know any more. Except 526 527 that it's not just me. We are all three involved. We are, aren't wet.' She looked from one to the other. 'Perhaps.' Sam walked out onto the balcon and stood looking down at the square. A group of children were playing on the grass be-hind the railings with a huge striped plastic ball. He turned to lean on the balustrade. 'We must all experience with an open mind and record meticulously and with unbiased comment what happens. Particularly you, Jo, if you still intend to write a book on all this. The book will be of enormous scientific or occult or historical or linguistic or whatever, significance. Let those .experts of Bennet's with their analytical minds tear that apart. From now on we'll leave them out of it. We don't need them. The run himself is, of course, a fool. You do realise that, don't you? For all his expensive offices and the panoply of medical pops he is not a qualified psychiatrist.' Nick raised an eyebrow. 'He couldn't call himself doctor, surely, if he weren't qualified.' 'He qualified as a physician in Vienna jgst alter the war, but he never practised as far as I can see,either in general practice or as a specialist, until he came to England, when he did a minimal training in hypnotherapy, and launched himself as an expert on some decidedly fringe activities.' Nick gave a lazy smile. 'It struck me he didn't think much of you, either.' 'Shut up, both of you.' Jo stood up. 'Why don't I get us all a salad? I want to think about something else for a change. My mind is so tired, so terribly tired of all this-' Her voice trembled slightly. With a glance at Sam, Nick followed her into the kitchen. ']o, what happened to me at Bennet's?' he asked in an under tone. 'Did I go into some sort of trance as well?' She looked at him, astonished.'You?' 'Yes, me, Jo.' He glanced over his shoulder hurriedly. 'I am beginning to think Sam may have given me some sort of post-hypnotic suggestion -' 'Sam?' Jo stared. 'You haven't let Sam hypnotise you?' 'lqow, who is taking my name in vain?' Sam had brought bottle of Scotch with him into the kitchen. 'No one.' Jo glanced at him uncomfortably. She turned ' to the fridge and took out a plate of cold meats and a of salad, then she reached into the door for a bottle of 'Sam, the corkscrew is in the drawer behind you. Leave ' Scotch alone and pour us all some wine instead, will you? you say your plane was tomorrow, Nick?' she went Nick was watching his brother expertly insert the tip of the the centre of the cork. He was frowning. 'Eleven. I'm going to have to go as soon as we've eaten, Jo. things I must do at the office before I go back to the Jo looked down at the boule of olive oil in her hand. 'You said how long you will be away,' she said. He must how lost she felt at the thought of him leaving. 'Ten days at least.' His voice was gentle. 'Ten days for Jo to sort out her affairs with Richard de Sam put in as he poured out the three glasses of wine, stooping, his eye level with the worktop, to , all contained identical amounts. 'Sam.' Jo glanced at Nick, suddenly terrified that the men of the name would change him again, back to the fright travesty of the Nick she knew. His face had hardened, he was still Nick, The stranger was not there behind his 'She's finished with de Clare,' Nick said after a moment. picked up one of the glasses. 'And de Clare knows it.' 'Knew it, Nick,' Jo said quickly. 'It was all a long time ago. take the salad through, and the bottle.' Sam was watching her as she took the plates from the 'You intend to follow this story through to the end, don't Jo,' he said softly as the door swung closed behind Nick. She straightened abruptly. 'Don't be absurd. You know well I don't. And you know why.' 529 'I think you will. I don't think you'll be able to stop when the time comes.' 'Oh believe me, I will, Sam.' Jo clenched her fists. 'Do you think I will want to go on when John turns against them? I don't want to know what happens then. Do you think I could bear to live through all that - the knowledge that Richard did not li a finger to try and save her, for all his love. And Wiilitm! William, after all their years of marriage, their children - William betrayed her!' 'She had betrayed William first,' Sam said sharply. 'She had driven him too far.' 'He was a coward,' she retorted. 'A bully and a coward.' Sam flinched visibly beneath her scorn. 'He paid for that last betrayal,' he said. 'He paid. Dear God, how he wanted to make reparation. Don't you think he wanted to return to save her?' Nick pushed open the kitchen door behind them. 'Come on you two, what's happened to supper?' 'No!' Jo did not even hear him. 'No, I don't think he did. He didn't give tuppence for anything but Iris own skin. Don't forget, he let his own son die too. His eldest son!' Sam narrowed his eyes. 'His son! Will wasn't his son. Will was the bastard of that weak fool, de Clare. An incestuous bastard!' 'Sam!' Nick shouted. 'Stop it!' Sam ignored him. He hadn't taken his eyes off Jo's face. 'Do you know who little Matilda de Clare married? No, not Reginald. Not good, honest, upright Reginald, so like his father. No, you let her marry Will! You let her marry her own brother!' 'No!' shouted Jo. 'No, that's a lie. Will was William's 'I don't believe you. Matilda was a whore. She deserved to die the way she did.' 'Sam, shut up!' Nick glared at his brother. 'You bastard! Leave it alone, do you hear?' Suddenly Sam smiled. 'Of course. I'm sorry. How tactless of me.' He was breathing hard. 'Yes, why don't we have supper! It can't matter now, anyway, can it, what happened eight hundred years ago?' I i It was a qtdet meal. Leaving most of her food untouched, Jo her plate aside and toyed instead with the glass of e. It was only just after eight whenNick stood up. 'I must go, Jo.' He took her hands as she rose too. 'Take care won't you?' a watery smile. 'Of course. Don't worry about me.' want to speak to me, Jim will have the phone num And I'll be in touch with them just as soon as :I hit New York. Do you want me to ring you?' She shook her head. 'Forget me for ten days, Nick. Concen on your work. I'll see you when you get back.' He looked at her hard for a few, moments, his blue eyes intense, then he kissed her gently on the forehead. 'Sam will here to take care of you, don't forget, if you need him.' Sam was still seated. He refilled his glass slowly, watching Jo raised her arms suddenly and threw them around Nick's neck. He frowned. 'I'll see you back at the fiat later, Nick,' he 'You're not coming with me now?' Nick disengaged himself gently. There was a hint of caution in his tone as he looked down at his brother. 'There are one or two things I want to say to Jo first.' 'No.t' There was no reason for Jo's involuntary response; its 'I mean, not now, Sam, please. I m so tired. I'd really rather be on my own this evening, if you don't mind.' 'I won't keep you long.' Sam did not move. Nick put his hands on the back of Sam's chair. 'Come on, see Jo wants us both to go.' 'She'll change her mind.' Sam glanced up at Jo.with a 'A cup ofcoffee, then I'll leave if you still want me to. I She clung to Nick for a moment on the landing and stood 530 531 watching him walk down the stairs, then slowly she turned hack. 'You really want coffee?' 'Please.' Sam had collected the plates together. He carried them through to the kitchen, then he leaned against the wail, watching as Jo set about making some instant coffee. 'Not the real thing?' he enquired lazily. There was a slight smile at the comers ofhis mouth. 'It takes too long,' Jo said over her shoulder. 'I mean it, Sam. I really am too tired to talk.' She turned suddenly and looked at him. 'Sam ' He raised an eyebrow. 'Is Nick-' She hesitated. 'Have you ever hypnotised Hick?' Sam smiled. 'That's an odd thing to ak.' 'Have you?' 'Put down the kettle for a moment and look at me.' 'I'm m.king your coffee.' 'Put it down, Jo.' She did so, slowly. Then she stared up at him 'Sam -' 'That's right, Jo. Close your eyes for a moment. Relax. You can't fight it. There is nothing you can do, is there? You are already asleep, and travelling hack into the past. That's it.' Sam stood for a moment staring at her, then he moved forward and took her hand, leading her out into the fiat's short corridor. A right turn would take him towards the front of the fiat, the living room with its open balcony doors. To the left was the bedroom and next to it the hathroom. He turned left. In the bedroom he pushed Jo into a seated position on the end of her bed, then he moved to the windows and closed the heavy curtains. He switched on the lamp. It cast strange synthetic shadows in a room where the evening sunlight was still struggling through between the folds of the heavy material, fighting up a 7--ling wedge of gold on the dusty rose of the carpet. Sam folded his arms. 'So, my lady, do you know who I am?' Jo shook her head dully. 'I am your husband, mim!' 'William?' She moved her head slightly as though trying to dazzling light. 'William.' He had not moved.'And you and I have a whole do we not, to remind you of your duties to your Jo stared up at him, her gaze alarmingly direct. 'My duties? duties do you intend to remind me, my lord?' Her itone was scornful. i Sam smiled. 'All in good time. But frst I want to ask you a question. Wait. There is something I must fetch. Wait here until I return.' [atilda stared at Williem's retreating back. He slammed the heavy oak door of the bedchamber and she heard the ring of his spurs on the stone as his footsteps retreated. She shivered. The narrow windows of the chamber faced north and the shutters braced across them did nothing to keep out the cold. She went to stand near the huge hearth, drawing her fur rnntle around her. Her bones had begun to ache now in the winter and she could feel her soul crying out for the balm of spring sunshine. She must be beginning tO feel old! What had William gone to fred? Wearily she bent and picked a dry mossy apple bough from the basket and threw it on the fire. It scented the room immediately and she closed her eyes, trying to imagine herself warm. William returned almost at once. He flung hack the door and stood before her, his face closed-, his eyes hiding some new anger. She sighed, and forced herself to smile. 'What is it you wish to ask me, William? Let us speak of it quickly, then we can go down to the great hall where it is so much warmer.' What was it he held behind his back? She stared at him curiously, feelin., as she always did now for.him a srange mixture of scorn and fear and tolerance and even perhaps a little affection. But he was so hard to like, this man to whom she had been married now for so many years. William slowly held out the hnd he had been keeping behind his back. In it was a carved ivory crucifix. She drew back, catching her breath, recognising it as coming from a niche in the chapel, where it was kept in a jewelled reliquary. It was reputed to have been carved from the bone of some long-dead Celtic saint. 'Take it.' 'Why?' She clutched her cloak more tightly round her. 'Take it in your hand.' Reluctantly she reached out and took the crucifix. It was nnnaturally cold. 'Now,' he breathed. 'Now I want you to swear an oath.' She paled. 'What oath?' 'An oath, madam of the most Sacred kind. I want you to swear on that crucifix in your hand that Willism the eldest child of your body, is my son.' She stared at him. 'Of course he is your son.' 'Can you swear it?' She stared down at the intricately carved ivory in her hand - the decorated cross, the tortured, twted figure of the man hanging on it in his death agony. Slowiy she raised it to her lips and kissed it. 'I swear it,' she whispered. William drew a deep breath. 'So,' he said. 'You told the truth. He was not de Clare's bastard.' Her eyes flew to ,his face and he saw the paleness of her skin flood with colour. For a moment only, then it was gone and she was as white as the crucifix she had pressed to her lips. He narrowed his eyes. 'You swore!' 'William is your son. I swear, before God and the Holy Virgin.' 'And the others? What of the others?' He took a step towards her and grabbed her wrist. He held the crucifix up before her eyes. 'Swear. Swear for the others!' 'Giles and Reginald, they are youn. Can you not see it in their colouring and their demeanour? They are both their father's sons.' 'And the girls?' His voice was frozen. 'Margaret is yours. And Isobel.' She looked down sud unable to hold his gaze. 'But not Tilda?' His voice was barely audible. 'My little de Clare's child?' He pressed her fingers round the until the carving bit into her flesh. 'Is she?' he suddenly. Desperately she tried to push him away. 'Yes!' she cried. she was Richard's child, God forgive me!' William laughed. It was a humourless, vicious sound. 'So, great alliance with Rhys is built on counterfeit goods! The of Gruffydd ap Rhys will not be descendants of '. mine!' 'You must not tell him!' Matilda sprang forward and caught his arm. 'For sweet Jesus' sake, William, you must not him!' She gave a little sob. Dropping his arm she whirled i round, scrabbling on the floor until she found the crucifix. She grabbed it and thrust it at him. 'Promi me. Promise me tell him! He would kill her!' i William smiled. 'He would indeed- the fruit of your whoring with de Clare.' She was trembling. The fur cloak had fallen open. 'Please, p romi me you won't tell Lord Rhys, William! Promise!' 'At the moment it would be madness to tell him,' William imid thoughtfully, 'and I shall keep silent for all our sakes. For now it shall remain a secret between me and my wife.' He '. mailed coldly. 'As for the future. We shall see.' He stretched out and took the crucifix out of her hand. it he put it reverently on the table, then he turned back to her and lifted the fur from her shoulders. 'It is so e alone, my lady. I think it would be a good time, don't you, to show me some of this passion you so readily give carefully removed her blue surcoat and threw it after the cloak before he turned her numb body round and set unlacing her gown..She was shivering violently. William! Not now. It is so cold.' 'We shall warm each other soon enough.' He turned and shouted over his shoulder. 'Emry$! You remember Emrys,' he utid softly. 'My blind musician?' She did not turn. Clutching her gown to her breasts she heard the door open hlnd her, then clme again quietly. After a few moments' silence the first breathy notes of the flute began to drift into the chamber, spiralling up into the dark, smoke-filled rafters. She shuddered as Willim's cold hands pulled the gown out of her clutche and stripped it down to the floor. 'So,' he whispered. 'You stand, naked in body and naked in soul.' He took a deep shaky breath. 'Let down your hair.' For some reason she could not disobey him. Unsteadily she rahed her h=nds to her veil and pulled out the pim which held it. She uncoiled her braids, still long and richly auburn with only a few strands yet of silver, and legsn to unplalt them slowly, conscious of the draught which swept under the door and towards the hearth, ending icy shiven over her kin. She still had not looked at the musician. William watched in silence until her hair was free. It swung round her shoulden and over her pale breasts, rippled in the firelight into dancing bronzed life. He took another deep breath and groped at last for the brooch which held his own mantle. 'You have a girl's body still, for all the children you have .carried,' he said softly. 'True born or bastard, they haven't marked you.' He put his hand on her belly. She shrank back, her eyes silently spelling out her sudden hatred, and he laughed. 'Oh yes, you detest me- but you have to obey me sweetheart! I am your husband.' He dropped his cotte aRer his mantle. 'You have to obey me, Matilda, because I have the key to your mind.' She swallowed. 'You have gone mad, my lordl' As if breaking free of some spell she found she could move suddenly. Turning she picked up her fur cloak and swung it round her tmtil she was covered in rich chestnut fur from chin to toe. 'You hold no keys to my mind!' 'But I do.' Abruptly the music stopped. William raised his in front of her face. 'Drop the cloak, Matilda. That's He smiled as, unnerved, she found herself obeying 'Now, kneel.' Furious, she opened her mouth to argue, but the argument not come. Scarcely realising she did it, she knelt on the at him, the firelight playing on her pale hlmelf. Watching, she aw naked body, the mat of greying chest hair, tapering his belly, the sturdy muscular thighs, the white ugly one on his left thigh, the other on his left shoulder. She seldom seen him naked. Though everyone customarily unclothed, wrapped in rugs and furs, or sprawled in coarse linen sheets, she resolutely rolled herself in covers whenever possible, and kept her eyes tightly Now there was no escape. Some force of will in him to keep her eyes open, fLxed on his body. Nervously gaze travelled down to the rigid penis, then back to the arms which could hold her so mercilessly as She clenched her fists defntly, her eyes rising more at last to meet his. He smiled. 'Lie down, wife. There on the floor.' 'No,' she breathed, sllmmoning the last vestiges of her defy him. 'No, my lord, I will not. It pleases you to like a whore but I am your true wife, faithful to you many years. If I must submit to you it will be on our 'Faithful?' he sneered suddenly. 'You have betrayed me de Clare. With who else I wonder?' He looked at her, T calculating. She dropped her gaze and he laughed. 'Your eyes spell out guilt! Who was it? One man? Two? A hundred?' 'Only one other, my lord.' Why was she answering him? It as if some force compelled her to make the admission. 'And who was that one other?' 'One to whom you yourself would have given me, my lord,' burst out. 'And I did not lie with him willingly. Before I swear it[ He took me by force.' William raised an eyebrow. 'And who was this so eager suitor, msdam?' 'Prince John,' she answered in a whisper. royal whore. And where did John take you? On a bed trimmed with cloth of gold? No matter. For me you lie on the floor where you belong.' He stooped and picked up the broad leather belt he had dropped with the rest of his clothes. 'Lie down, Matilda, or I will give you the thrashing you deserve.' Bhlnd them the music began again suddenly, thin and breathy, unrelated to the darkne of the chamber, the flaring noky torches in the sconces, or the bittersweet smoke of the fire. Ontide, the wind had begun to moan gently acrms the hills, an eerie, dismal sound, as lonely as the cry of the hungry wheeling buzzard, riding the currenta below the streaming Matilda did not move. Her eyes narrowed scornfully. 'You resort so easily to violence. You are like an animal my lord. gaat you cnnot take by force you wish m destroy.' She saw his hand tighten on the leather thong and she felt a quick pang offear, but she did not move. 'I have often wondered why you have never beaten me,' she said half thoughtfidly. 'You have often wanted to.' She smiled at him. 'Perhaps you have never dared.' He stared down into the mocking green-gold eye. The sorceress. The witch. Did she know then that he was afraid of her? He clenched his fist tighter on the belt, resisting the urge to cross hlmlf with his free hand. He must take her now, while his desire was hot, whilst his anger sustained him. Whip her and mount her and by God's bones hewas not too old to get her with child again. A true-born child to replace the bastard girl he had given to the Weish. He stepped forward, his arm raised and brought down the leather thong across her shoulders, with every inch of mength he poe. He heard the air whistle out of her lung as the blow fell, : but apart from that she did not make a sound. For an instant he saw fear in her eyes, then hatred - then, as he raised his arm for the second blow she threw back her head and laughed. rang out, wild and mocking and he felt his desire and die as he heard it. Goose pimples rose on the flesh his shoulders. With an oath he dropped the belt and at his feet for his tunic. 'So be it,' he breathed. 'You may laugh now, my lady. You whatever demons protect you, and scorn me now, but mine shall be the last laugh. Stay here! Stay in your astle, lady! Stay in the past and lick your wounds. Stay there!' He swung his mantle over his shoulder and walked out of " chamber. Dry-eyed, Matilda climbed to her feet. She picked up her cloak and wrapped it around her tightly, trying to stem the agonised shuddering which racked her body, then wearily she climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers over her. Only then did she realise the music was still playing softly in a dark comer near the window. 539 30 There was a persistent knocking somewhere in the distance. Judy dragged herself up out of the fog ofsleep and groped for her bedside clock. It was three fifteen. With a groan she sat up and reached for her bathrobe. Staggering slightly she switched on the bedside lamp and pushed open the door into the studio. It was quite dark in there, the smell of turpentine and oil paint pleasingly overlaid with beeswax. She sniffed appreciatively; smells were always so much stronger and better defined in the darkness. Snapping on a single spotlight in the corner she made her way to the door. Behind her the new canvas, nearly finished, stood alone in the centre of the floor and she glanced at it possessively as she passed. Totally absorbed, she bad been working on it, in spite of the lack oflight until nearly two. 'Who is it?' she called. She slipped the chain into place. 'Stop making such a row and tell me what ygu want.' 'It's me, Sam Franklyn.' The knocking stopped abruptly. 'Do you know what time it is?' Cautiously she opened the door and peered through the crack. Sam was lenlng against the wall. His shirt was unbuttoned and he carried his jacket over his shoulder, his finger hooked through the loop. Slightly bleary-eyed, obviously tired, he was, she realised for the first time with a sudden sense of shock, as handsome in his own way as his brother. With an obvious effort he stepped forward and pushed at the door, swearing violently as the chain caught it and held it fast, bruising his knuckles. 'Open up, Judy, for God's sake. I need to talk to someone.' 'Someone? Anyone?' She stared at him indignantly. 'Are you drunk, Sam?' Reaching for the light switch by the door she flooded the studio behind her with light as the fluorescent strips clicked on. Pushing the door almost shut she slipped off the chain. 'No, I'm not drunk.' Sam walked in past her. 'But I would like to be. Do you have anything here to create the desired effect?' Judy raised a sarcastic eyebrow. 'If it were up to the Frank tyns I wouldn't have much left for anyone to get drunk on! Anyway, I thought you were a coffee addict.' He grinned at her, but there was no humour in his eyes. 'Coffee up till two perhaps, but then Scotch.' She shrugged. 'One. Then you can go home. I'm sick of you and Nick using this place as a railway station bar! What's the matter anyway?' 'The matter? Why should anything be the matter?' Judy found the bottle of Scotch in the kitchen cupboard and brought it back into the studio. 'People don't usually arrive here at three in the morning wanting a drink without .something being the matter,' she said curtly. 'Is Nick still in Wales?' Sam shook his head. 'They came back at the weekend. Nick k flying to the States tomorrow.' He emptied the glass and put it on the table. 'I lie. morning. He is going thi, morning. 'And does he still think he's King John?' Judy poured herself a small measure and sipped it without enjoyment. She had begun to shiver. Sam smiled. He sat down and put hi elbow on the table. 'He ms King John.' 'Crap. You've been feeding him that stuff deliberately. What I want to know i, why? You don't like your brother, do, you Sam?' 'How perspicacious of you to see it.' Sam picked up his empty glass and thoughtfully held it level with his face, squinting through it sideways. 'And you are setting him up?' 'Possibly. Give me another wee dram and I shall reveal all.' Judy hesitated. He was not obviously drunk, but he was making her feel uncomfortable. There was something strange -even frightening- about him as he sat motionless at the table; a sense of latent power which could be unleashed at any 541 moment. Still shivering she reached for an old sweater which was hanging over the back of a wooden chair near the table and knotted it around her neck like a scarf. 'OK. It's a deal. One drink and you reveal all,' she said. She watched while he drank, then she sat down, arms folded and waited. He put down the glass. 'I am a puppeteer, Judith. A Punch and Judy man. A kingmaker. Nicholas is dancing on the end of my suing.' He held out his hand, angled above the floor as though he held a puppet there before him, dancing at his feet. 'Even in the States?' she asked dryly. 'In the States, sweet girl, the king who lives in his head will sleep. He will wait until he returns to his native land and then he will strike.' 'Strike?' Judy echoed. She looked at him apprehensively. 'What do you mean, strike?' 'Who can tell?' Sam said. 'He is a king.' He laughed suddenly, throwing hack his head so that she could see the gold fillings in his upper molars, then abruptly he looked back at her. 'He seduced my wife, you know.' 'Your wife?' Judy echoed in amazement. 'I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't know you were married.' 'Oh yes.' He balanced the chair on its two hack legs, lolling in it comfortably, his fingertips resting on the edge of the table. 'Because he is King he thinks he can do what he likes with other people's lives. He thinks he can take with impunity. He doesn't know how wrong he is.' His fist clenched convulsively on the table and he jerked himself upright. Judy was watching him nervously. He was like Nick; he could be blind drunk and not show it at all. She eyed the bottle which she had left on the table less than two feet from his hand. It was still half full. Standing up, she edged away from him. 'I don't know about you, but I need some coffee, however late it is.' 'Not for me.' He moved slightly in his chair m watch her. 'I have just come from Joanna's flat,' he went on after a moment. 'I walked round for a long time before coming down 'Oh?' She hid her surprise as she went back into the kitchen switched on the light. 'She is a lying bitch.' He said it reflectively, but without 'A beautiful, lying bitch.' 'Do I gather you made a pass at her?' She jumped violently she turned from the cupboard and found him standing behind her. He had moved after her with 'and silent speed. He ignored the question. For a moment he stood staring at then he smiled again. 'You, too, are a beautiful womn, One thing my brother has is an impeccable taste in He reached out and touched her arm. 'Look at me.' Startled, she lifted her eyes to his and for a moment she herself trapped, the clear, almost colourless irises holdaze, and she could feel her mind reaching out to meet eager for the fusion. For a brief second she remained , still, then with an effort she tore her eyes away and 'Oh no you don't, Dr Franklyn! You am't hypnotise me. I'm immune!' Her eyes narrowed with anger. 'I wasn't good enough for you before, remember? There was no way you wanted to include me in your little happy family of medieval freaks. So, who have you decided I be, now you've changed your mind? Eleanor of Aqui Queen Berengaria? A serving wench to hitch up my for you and bare my backside whenever you fancy a poke, now that Jo has rejected you! You realise you struck off for all this? And for what you're doing to She hacked away hastily as he took a step towards her. 'Don't you touch me, Sam. I warn you. You'd better go!' Sam grabbed her wrist. 'Oh come on, Judy.' He pulled her him. 'Don't play the shy virgin with me - you know it's all about. I need you. Believe me, I need you.' There was no room for her to pull away from him in the kitchen, trapped as she was between the worktop and a and before she knew what was happening he had seized her mouth, forcing his tongue between her teeth. For a moment she was too shocked to move then, tearing herself away, leaning backwards over the work surface, she gave him a stinging slap across the face. 'I'll give you two minutes to get out of here[' she spluttered furiously. 'Then I'm clling the He laughed. 'Just try it.' He staggered very slightly as he moved towards her again and the enamelled coffee pot which had been standing by her elbow overbalanced and crashed to the floor. Sam ignored it as he reached for her, but she had ducked past him and, dodging his grasp, she rail through the studio and into her bedroom where she slammed the door and locked it. Breathing in tight, angry gasps she waited, listening. Sam was coming after her. She heard him knock into something in the studio and flinched. 'Please God, not the painting.' Throwing herself on the bed she grabbed the phone on the table on the far side of it, punched out 999, then she waited, holding her breath as the handle ofber doorrattled. The police were there in four minutes. When the doorbell rang she unlocked the door cautiously and came out, pulling the belt of her robe more tightly round her as she peered out into the studio. Two -niformed constables were already standing there, staring round, their caps held beneath their arms. Sam had opened the door to them. 'Are you the lady who phoned for assistance?' one of them asked as Judy appeared. She nodded. 'You bet I did. This bastard is as drunk as a lord and I want him out of here.' She pushedher sleeves up to the elbows, unconsciously businesslike. 'He tried to force his attentious on me.' 'Right, sir.' One of the policemen turned to Sam. 'It sounds as if you'd outstayed your welcome. What about going home and sleeping it off, eh?' Sam glared at him 'If you think I'm drunk, officer, you are a poor judge of men.' 'I'm not saying you're drunk, sir,' the constable said 'Just that this lady would like you to go.' gently. 'That lady, officer, is a cock teaser.' He the phrase with immee care. 'A very artistic ." moved away into the centre of the studio and of the canvas on the easel. Judy caught her breath. 'She is also a painter of pornographic filth,' he went on 'She should be locked up for producing sug gestured at the broad canvas with impasto of pale colours. 'Doesn't look pornographic to me, sir,' the other pofice 'In fact it looks very pretty.' Sam's scorn distracted them from Judy's indigua ' and twisted and tortured, like a woman's Before anyone could stop him he grabbed the canvas the easel. Judy's scream of anguish did him from bringing it down with a violent crack across knee. He hurled it into the corner of the studio and then he moved towards the wall. 'More pictures. It doesn't it, Judithl It hurts when I destroy them. Are part of you, then? Children? Bastard children? gave me?' The two officers clox[ on him before he got near the wall. 'That's enough, sir.' 'Enough?' Sam yelled. 'Enough The day I hear my dangh is another man's bastard! ChristAlmightyl' He tore his arm of the policeman's grasp and took a firious swing at the face, spfitting his lip so the blood spattered across his 'Don't you tell me that's enough!' he shouted again as r dived on him 'I haven't even begull!' typed the last line of his story, ripped the paper out of the switched it off and sat hack with a contented sigh. watch. It was nearly four am. Picking up his glass, he sipped contentedly at a brandy and as he read through the piece. It was neat, snappy; not factory stuff like the last one, but still very, very ro/hantic. He grinned maliciously. This would show Bet Go nning what he thought of her claim to exclusive rights! Aad if it had the side-effect of pushing Hick and Jo together once and for all, well and good. That would leave the sexy and informative Miss Curzon for him, He leaned forward and switched off the desk lamp then, stretching, he stood up and walked across to the open window. Staring out at the silent street he took a deep breath of the warm fragrant air. At this time of night when the accursed traffic slept at last, you could smell the flowers from Regent's lark. The room was very cold. Jo shivered violently, curling up for a moment as tightly as she could to try to fred some warmth, and she felt around, her eyes still hut, trying m pull the bedclothes over her again. There were none there. Puzzled, she opened her eyes and stared round. She was lying on the carpet in her bedroom. For a moment she lay still, her mind a blank, then slowly he sat up. Outside the closed curtains she could hear the clatter of dustbins in the mews and the roar oftraffic in the distance from the Cromwell Road. Overhead a broad-bellied Jumbo was flying low across London, heading for Heathrow. Stiff and aching she stood up slowly and, still disorientated, she stood still for a moment, then suddenly realising that she was cold because she had no clothes on, she moved awkwardly to the door and unhooked her dressing-gown, wrapping it round her. Her shoulders ached and there was a raw streak of pain across her back. Wearily she drew back the heavy curtains, letting the daylight flood into the room. Her bed was still made, the covers unrumpled. Her clothes were on the floor and she picked them up. Her dress was torn down the front, ripped almost in half. She stared at it, feeling the fu'st stirrings of panic. She had been in the castle - which castle? She could not remember now, and William had been there- a furiously angry William who had forced her to undress, and had struck her with his belt. Her mouth went dry. She turned and fled into the bathroom, tugging on the light cord and throwing off the dressing as she turned to look at her hack in the huge mirror. There was an angry bloodied welt across it, reaching from her shoulder-blade across and round to her fibs on the other She swallowed hard, trying to control the urge to retch, hands shaking so much she could barely turn on the tap splash cold water over her face. It was now she needed Bennet's experts' advice on hysterical and psy manifestations! Yesterday she had produced none, but now[ She bit back a sob, burying her face in a towel. How she had produced a beauty! Painfully she dressed. Then she wandered, still feeling strangely disorientated, to the front of the flat. The balcony doors were open, the remain of a meal spread on the coffee She must lulve gone into a trance quite suddenly after had left. She.picked up the three place mats - then she frowned again. Sam. Sam had been there too. When had he eit? He had not gone with Nick - she had made him some coffee - or had she? Frowning she carried the things through into the kitchen and stared round. All the paraphernalia for making coffee was spread around on the worktop, the jar of instant still open. She screwed the lid on automatically; she would never normally have le a coffee jar unsealed. Had it happened then, whilst she was busy? It didn't make sense. Nor did the spoonful of coffee in the bottom of each cup, the kettle unplugged, full, standing on the worktop, the milk - off- out of the fridge. She sighed and plugged in the kettle again, then thoughtfully she made her way to the phone. She dialled Nick's flat. There was no reply. She glanced at her watch. It was after nine. Nick could already be on his way to the airport and Sam must have gone out. Slamming down the receiver, she winced at the pain in her shoulder. Making herself a cup of Neseaf, she carried it hack to the " bedroom thoughtfully. At least there would be no baby crying today; he had gone, faded, like the strange discarnate dream he must have been, now that her children were all grown up. She put the cup down on the mahogany chest of drawers in the corner, then she frowned. Her tape recorder was sitting there beside a pile of magazines and she distinctly remembered putting it in the drawer in the living room the day before, after they had come back from Devonshire Place. Clicking it open she looked down at the utlfamiliar tape, then, puzzled, she slotted it back into position and switched it on. For a moment there was silence, then the haunting, breathy sounds of a flute fdled the room. 'No!' She clapped her hands to her ears. 'No, it's not possible! It was in the castle, not here! No one could have recorded it! Not from my dream!' The sound fdled the room; the sound the old man had made, sitting in the corner of the bedchamber as rilllnm humiliated her; the sound that had gone on without ceasing even when he had raised the leather thong and brought it down across her shoulders. Shaking her head, she desperately tried to block out the sounds, then she grabbed the tpe recorder and switched it off, ejecting the cassette and turning it over and over with trembling hands. It wasn't a commercial recording. On the blank label someone had written in biro: perpetuum mobik. Nothing else. There was no clue as to the player or the insmmaent. Dropping the tape as if it had burned her she stared around the room, trying to calm herself. ras this some joke of Sam's? Some stupid trick to mke her regress even when she had no wish to? Some way ofhypnotising her without the preliminaries- even without her knowledge? She pushed her hair out of her eyes with both ha-rids and took a deep breath. But surely he wouldn't do such a thing! Why should he want to? And if he had, why hadn't he stayed with her and woken her himself? Her eyes fell suddenly on the torn dress in the corner where she had thrown it across the chair, and she felt the breath catch in her throat. 'Oh no,' she whispered out loud. qqo, Sam, no! You wanted to help me! Why should you want to hurt me, Sam? Why?' For a moment she thought the sharp sound of knocking was from inside her head and she winced, putting her hands to her ears, then she realised suddenly that the noise came from the hall. There was someone knocking on her front door. For a moment she couldn't bring herself to move. Then slowly she It was Sheila Chandler from upstairs. The woman smiled tightly. 'How are you, dear? We haven't heard the baby lately.' Jo forced herself to smile back. 'The baby has gone,' she ,aid. : 'I see. Look, I don't want always to seem to be complaining -' Sheila looked down sideways as if overcome with embarrassment, 'and we never would at a weekend, of course, that would be different, but well, it is only Wednesday, and it i really was so terribly loud - and it was one in the morning!' Jo swallowed. 'I know. I'm terribly sorry. I don't quite Sheila nodded. 'I expect your boyfriend had had a bit too to drink. He doesn't seem to have been himself lately, does he?' she said pointedly. Her eyes were busy, darting past into the flat. 'Harry said he heard him leave. He must have his footing on the stairs, Harry said, because he swore dreadfully! So it echoed up and down the stair-well. My I know blasphemy doesn't mean anything to you people these days, but really, to swear by Christ's - What in the world is it, dear? Are you all right?' Jo had grabbed at the door jamb for support as the blood from her head and a strange roaring filled her ears. felt the other woman'a fingers on her elbow, then an arm round her shoulders as slowly Sheila helped her back pushed her gently down onto the sofa. She Shella was bending over her, her face full of concern. was moving; she was still talking. With an enor effort Jo tried to understand what she was saying. 'Shall | get you some water, dear?' The words seemed to come from huge distance away. Weakly Jo shook her head. 548 549 William! William had been there in the fiat with her! Like the baby, other people had heard him. He had shown himselfas a real presence. She sat up with a terrific effort of will. 'I am sorry.' She took a deep steadying breath. 'I... I saw a doctor yesterday about these dizzy spells. They're so silly. I'll... I'll try and make sure there isn't any noise in future. I am sorry you were disturbed, only William -' she bit offan hysterical laugh. 'William doesn't understand about flats. He's not used to them, you see, In fact, he's not really used to neighbours at all.' Sheila stood up and with a little automatic gesture twitched her skin straight. 'I see. He lives in the country, does he? Well, we'll say no more about it.' She glanced round the room. 'Do call upstairs, dear, if you are feeling poorly, won't you? I'm always in. Would you like me to make you a nice cup of tea now?' Jo shook her head. 'That's kind but I've some coffee, and I was just going to get dressed.' She pulled herself upright. 'Once again, I am sorry about the noise.' Obviously reluctant to leave, Sheila backed slowly towards the hall, but at last she was once more out on the landing and resolutely Jo closed the door behind her. Slowly she walked back towards the bedroom and picked up her cold cup of coffee. Sipping it with a grimace she sat down on the end of the bed; she hadn't even the energy suddeniy to go and warmitup. On the floor something touched her bare foot. Looking down she saw, half hidden by the folds of the bedspread, a broad leather belt. 'Look Jo, I can only take a short break.' Tim tucked the receiver closer to his ear as he looked over his shoulder at the two models on the dais. He sighed. 'I tell you what. I'll meet you at Temple Underground at twelve. We'll go for a quick walk along the Embankment. That really is all the time I can spare today. Are you sure you're OK, Jo?' he added. She sounded strangely tense and breath.l, ess. 'I'm free, Tim.See you at twelve; Picking up his camera he turned hack to George with a grimace. 'I'm going to have to go out in a couple of hours, so let's get this show on the road. Now,' he said. Jo was sitting on a bench in the Embankment Gardens near the statue of John Smart Mill, staring reflectively at the pigeons pecking around her feet. She glanced up with a smile when she saw him. 'Have you ever tried to photograph that incredible colour in their necks? I'd love an evening dress like that.' 'Try shot silk,' Tim said dryly. He was looking down at her intently. 'You look very tired. What's the matter, Jo?' 'Can we walk up through the Temple?' She stood up and he saw her flinch slightly as she hitched the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. 'It'll help to keep moving.' 'Anything you like.' With a half-regrehe glance at the roses in the beds behind them he fell into step beside her in silence, from time to time glancing at her. He was puzzled and a little apprehensive. 'I had to talk to someone, Tim,' she said at last as slowly they climbed the steps up into F.atsex Street. 'I'm going to give it all up. The book, the articles, the whole idea. I'm not going to follow it through any more.' She hesitated. 'I thought I might fly over to the States.' 'With Nick, you mean?' His voice was carefully neutral as they walked slowly down Devereux Court and turned into the Temple. 'He left this morning -' She stopped, then she began again, fumbling for words. 'I can't cope, Tim. Last night something happened.' She eased her bag on her shoulder uncomfortably as they stood staring at the fountain. The high jet of water glittered in the mmlight, spattering dightly out. of the circular tree. there where a few blade stuck up through the dusty soil, but in the dutde of the trees the air tmelled cool and fresh from the water. There wa a yellow irb in the comer of the pool. She m,! at it in silence for a moment. 'Sm came over.' 550 551 'Some strange things happened, Tim, and they frightened me.' She began walking again and he followed her. 'I had a regression, but I don't think it was spontaneous. And I don't think I was alone.' 'You think Sam hypnotised you?' 'He's done it before. I asked him to. But this time I hadn't, and I wanted him to leave, but I don't think he did. I think he hypnotised me without my even knowing it. This morning I found-' she bit her lip. 'I found a tape of music which I remember from the trance. Flute music and I don't think they even had flutes at that period- or at least not that kind of flute. It's the only anachronistic thing that's happened - and there was something else -' Again she stopped. This time she couldn't go on. Glancing at her, Tim saw her face was pale, the skin drawn tight with fatigue and worry. He drove his hands into the pockets of his trousers, his flsts clenched. 'What else, Jo?' he said softly.. She shook her head. 'Tim - I think Sam may have somehow been directing the whole thing. I don't think any ofit was genuine after all. I think he's behind it all-even you and Nick. Somehow be's manipulated us all into believing that it was all real. Do you know, this morning when my nosy neigh bout came down to complain about the music in thanight, she said she'd heard someone leave the flat and I thought it was William! I thought somehow he had manifested himself into a physical presence, like a ghost! Then I realised it must have been Sam they heard. It was Sam all the time. Sam still somehow pretending to be William...' Slowiy they had walked on towards the Temple Church, and on impulse Tim pushed open the door and gestured to Jo to go in ahead ofhlm out of the hot brilliant sunlight into the cold of the interior. 'I have a feeling the whole thing is some sort of horrible hoax,' she went on, scarcely noticing where they were going. 'I think Sam might even somehow have initiated the whole thing all those years ago when I was a student. None of it is real, Tim-' Her whispered words echoed round the silent church. 'And I can't bear it. I wanted it to have happened.' took a deep breath, trying to steady the shakiness in her 'I know I'm not being objective! I know I'm being and sentimental and I should have my head x-rayed but I can't bring myself to believe it's a hoax! I don't to believe it's a hoax!' 'It's not a hoax, Jo,' Tim said softly. 'In some ways I wish to it was. But you are right in one thing. Sam is involved. came to see me last week and I knew it then. He is part of 0.' She stared at him. 'How?' she breathed. 'There were three ofus, Jo, three men who all loved you as And who all love you now.' In the silence that followed they looked up, startled, as a walking slowly round the church behind them, raised camera and took a flash picture over Jo's shoulder. He at them apologetically and moved on. unseeing at the stone effigy of a knight lying them on the ground. 'Three men?' she echoed in a 'Who?' Tim shrugged. 'The only one I know about is Richard,' he 'Only Sam and Nick can tell you who they were, if yet.' There was a long silence. 'Sam hates Nick,' Jo said softly. 'I never realised it until Franklyn told me, then suddenly it was so obvious, in he does and everything he says.' do you know Sam?' Tim put his arm around her Jo moved away from him. 'I've known him about I like him. He's fun and he's kind and he's very If Nick hadn't come along I suppose I might She stopped abruptly. 'Oh Tim -' her voice shook. took a deep breath. 'Don't let him hypnotise you Don't ever trust him.' she whispered. 'No. But it doesn't matter now, Whether it's real or not, it is over. And I 553 wanted you to know because.., because you are.., were... involved.' Tim bowed slightly. 'Thanks.' He gave a rueful grin suddenly. 'How strange! Do you see where we are, Jo?' He indi cated the effigies at their feet. She stared down. One of the four stone effigies which lay with their feet towards the east was the carved figure of William Marshall, 1 st Earl of Pembroke. On his left arm he carried a shield, in his right hand a sword. His face, moustached and bland, stared from his mail hood up past them towards the dome of the church, the eyes wide. One foot was broken, the other rested on a small snarling animal. A thin ray ofsun!ight straying through the clear glass of one of the south windows touched his face. 'We knew him, you and I,' Tim said solily. For a moment neither of them moved then Jo turned and, with a little sob, she -Imost ran from the church. Tim followed her slowly, closing the door behind him with a ctter which echoed in the silence of the bt01ding. She was standing outside, staring up at the slo: 'I am going, Tim,' she said wildly. 'I am goingto the States. Hone of this will matter there.' Tim nodded slowly. 'So. When will you leave?' She shrugged. 'I'm seeing Bet late this afternoon. There's a contract I've got to tear up.' She gave a rueful laugh. 'Once that is over I'll sort things out and leave as soon as I can.' She shivered. 'It's cold. Let's do what you f'LrSt suggested and walk down along the fiver.' The tide was high, the moored ships riding up alongside the river wall, the thick Thmes water deeply opaque as it slopped cheerfully against the grey stone. They leaned on the wall and stared over at the river boats chugging up the centre of the tide. Tim's f'mgers itched suddenly for his camera as he stared south towards the opposite bank. The choppy water, sparkling in the breezy sunlight, threw a rippled haze efrefracted light onto the black paintwork of the old ThAmes barge moored against the green piles. He took a deep breath. IfJo could throw off the past, surely God he could too! Slowly they began to walk west towards Westminster. He his watch. 'I have got to get back by two, Jo,' he 'I've got another session starting then.' She smiled. The wind had pushed the hair back from her bringing some colour back to her cheeks. 'You do think to go, Tim,' she was almost pleading suddenly. 'One can't run away from destiny, Jo.' He didn't look at 'But then your. destiny is tied up with Hick.' 'Is it?' she said in a small voice. 'All I know is I want to be She walked on, her eyes narrowed in the dazzle of watching the gulls wheeling and diving in wake of a police launch as it churned westwards. 'The I have a feeling that in that previous life of ours he 'You do know who he was, then?' Tim had almost to run to keep up with her as she began to faster and faster. Then she stopped dead, staring towards the Festival Hall across the glittering water. 'But it's not real, Tim,' she said at last. 'That-part of it is Tim clenched his fists in his pockets as she began walking more, but he said nothing. It wasu't until they reached she stopped again. turned to him at last. 'You'll have to take the Under back if you're going to make it by two. I'm sorry. I've you late.' He nodded. -' she caught his hands. 'Tim.- that night in Raglan. He smiled at her. 'So am I, Jo.' The smile broadened. 'I destiny one, now.' .i'Perhaps in our next life...?' a date.' stood watching as she dodged across the road and on a bus as it moved up the road, then he turned 555 towards the steps which led to the station near Westminster Pier. His smile had died as swiftly as it had come. 'No! No! No!; Bet slmmed her fist on her desk making the pens jump up in the air. 'No, you can't tear up that contract! I won't let you[ If you try and wriggle out of this I'll see your name is mud with every magazine in the countryl' Jo sat right-lipped in front of her. 'Look, for God's sake, be reasonabld' 'I am being reasouable! I have offered YOU as much time as you need. I've promised you a monumental fee. I've offered any research facilities you care to name. I arranged for one of London's top photographers to go with you to Wales. I will do any god-mn thing you like, Jo, but I want that series! What's wrong, anyway? Is it Nick? He's put you up to this, hasn't he, the bastard! Or is that you are afraid of him?' Her eyes were probing suddenly. 'You didn't tell me what hal> pened in Wales.' Jo looked away. 'Not much,' she said gur. dediy. 'Look Bet, please. You won't get me to change my mi.l ' 'Then you've got to give me a good reason for your decision. Did Nick threaten you?' Shaking her head, Jo sighed. 'On the contrary. He told me he loved me.' 'Buff There has to be a butl' Jo smiled. 'You're right, of course. There are so many buts. Even so, I want m go to New York to be with him.' Bet groaned. 'Jo, do you know what the temperature in New York was yesterday? It was ninety-four degrees with a h-]midity of ninety per cent. Are you serious about going? You've only to touch another human being and you both die of nuclear fusion.' Jo laughed. 'Isn't it fmiou? If I remember they've got pretty efficient airconditioning over there ' 'Passion flourishes on the streets,' Bet said darkly. With her customary impatience she stood up and went to her favourite stance by the window. 'If it's not Nick, then something else has happened m frighten you off,' she said over her '.'Are you going to tell me what?' 'I don't think so, Bet. Let's just say that I'm worried about sometimes tenuous grip on sanity.' Bet laughed. 'Oh that!' .'Yes that. 'I'm not doing it, Bet. And you know you can't ontract only bound me to exclusivity.' threw herlf back into her chair. She took a deep 'OK, I tell you what. Let's both go away and thi it, and in the meantime you can do me a favour to put a good mood.' relaxed a little, but even so she eyed Bet suspiciously. It like her to surrender so easily. 'What favour?' 'I'm planning to run an article about a chap called Ben and his wife. He is one of these self-sufficiency The types you were about to knock for six in your eries. Back to nature, neatalgia- everything rood easy is bad. Everything old and muddy s good. How would you like to go and interview me? I want a nice three pages with pictures. But not Heacham this time, please. I can't afford it.' lements,' Jo said thoughtfully. 'He lives up District somewhere, doesn't he?' looked vague. 'I heard he's moved. I'll call up the toe if :an do k straight away I will, just to put in that good mood. Then I'U go to New York.' leaned forward and pressed the buzzer on her desk. Get the Ben Clemenl3 file, would you?' She glanced Jo. 'You won't bac out ofthis?' won't back out ofit.' Jo stood up. 'You've got to try and ther thin Bet. It's not just a series of It's me and I can't be objective about what's happen door opened and Bet's secretary appeared with a manila folder. She grinned at Jo as she put it on Bet's desk. 'Coffee or tea, ladies, while I'm in here?' 'Coffee. Please,' Jo said. 'And me.' Bet flipped open the fde. In it were one or two cuttings, some notes and a photograph. She passed the photo to Jo. 'There he is, a nice old boy by the look of him.' Jo studied the face before her. Ben Clements looked as if he were in his early sixties, his hair and beard white, his face tanned and wrinkled, netted with a thousand laughter lines. 'I gather he has a young wife and hers is the angle we want, of course. Here,' Bet thrust the file at her, 'stick that in your bag and work on it when you get home. I am scheduling it for the December issue so I'll want it by'the sixteenth at the latest. Obviously I don't want you to make it too summery - but you needn't waffle on about Father Christmas on the farm. I've enough references to seasonal spirit in the rest of the issue. I'm trusting you, Jo. Normally I'd get one of our own feature writers on this.' Jo took the file. 'Don't worry, Bet. You've made me feel so guilty already that I won't let you down. I promise. I wouldn't mind a trip up north actually.' Bet took the cup of coffee from Sue and pushed it across the table towards Jo. 'He's moved, I told you. But you'll find all the details in there.' She looked at her watch. 'God, I've got a meeting downstairs in three minutes.' She drank the coffee scalding. 'Good luck with the article.' Jo didn't open the file until she was home. She threw herself down on the sofa and, kicking offher sandals, put her feet on the coffee table before taking out Ben Clements' photo and studying it closely. As Bet had said, he looked a nice old boy. She tipped the contents of the file out Ohm her lap and looked through it. His address and phone number were on a card by themselves, the last item to come to hand. Jo picked up the card and looked at it, then she put it down. For a moment she stared into space, then slowly she began to laugh. 'You are seven kinds of no good clever scheming cow, Bet Gunning,' she said out loud to the empty room. 'But it won't change my mind!" The card read: Pen y Garth Mynydd Nr Brecon The headline in the morning paper in huge black letters was JOHN GOOD FOR JO. Judy stared at it in stunned as she stood on the curb, not seeing the traffic as it inches of her along the Fulham Road. Pete done it! He had printed what she had told him, word for word! Advertising executive Nick Franldyn can comfort himself aRer his latest big disappointment in the world of business. In the wake of live-in girl friend Jo Clifford's revelations about her previous life as a medieval femme fatale, Nick, not to be outdone, had himself hypnotised by his psychiatrist brother. Imagine his surprise when he found out that-in his previous life he had been, not Jo's lover, nor her husband, but her king! folded the paper abruptly and shoved it in the litter on the lampost beside her. She felt slightly sick. Turning began to walk slowly up the road, pushing her hands deep pockets of her peacock blue jeans. Pete had promised would not tell anyone who had given him the story, but he keep his word? She bit her lip nervously. Nick was the States, but someone was bound to tell him about the Jo would see it too. And Sam. She shivered. had spent the rest of the night he had been arrested in He had appeared before the magistrates on Wednesday i contrite and very sober, accompanied by his impec character and his professional qualificatiom, to say of Nick's solicitor, Alistair Laver. The outcome had 558 559 been a heavy fine and he was bound over to keep the peace. When he rang Judy later to apologise she hung up on him, She bought a pint of milk and some bread and cheese, and on second thoughts another copy of the paper, then she made her way back to the studio. Pete answered on the second ring. 'Hi! Have you seen the article?' Judy grlmed. 'It's a bit scnsationlid isn't it?' Pete laughed. 'I thought you wanted it shouted from the roof tope. That was the biggest print I could persuade the editor to use without being considered vulgar! Has the victim creamed yet?' 'Pete! You're looking for trouble!' 'No. No. I was just doing a lady a favour.' Judy ighed. 'I almost I hatln't told you, now. It seems a cheap thing to do. Nick's in the States. Jo is the only one who is likely to e it.' Pete chuckled. 'And the redoubtable Ms, Gmnin$. I can't wait for her to spot it. I tell you what, sweetie. Why don't you and I have lunch? We'll sprit a bottle &bubbly and plan your next revelation. At thiR rate I shall have to pay you a retainer. What do you say? Joe Allen's at one?' 'OK. Thanks, Pete I'd like that.' She hesitated suddenly. 'But supposing someone sees us? They might guess it was me that told you!' 'Deny it.' Pete was Rmiling to hirer.elf as he stirred milk into hi8 muesli. 'Belly everything Judy. Ialways do. I'll see you at one o'clock!' Bet rang Jo at four minutes past eight. 'Have you seen what that unprincipled bastard Pete Leveson has done now?' Jo sat down, pulling the phone onto her knee. 'That's a good one, coming from you, Bet! What has he done?' 'He's printed the sequel to your story.' Jo froze. 'The sequel?' 'About Nick. Dear Godl No wonder I thought there was odd about him last time I saw him. And to think I -' She shut up abruptly. 'You nearly what, Bet?' Jo said sharply. 'Nothing, sweetie.' Bet swiftly turned on the charm. 'Jo, s for ages. You might have told It explains his crazy behaviour, for God's sake. And it makes 'so much more exciting. And to have had a declaration from him too! You must go through with it, Jo. You You do see that, don't you?' 'Bet -' The muscles in her stomach were clenching nerv as Jo sat forward on the edge of her seat. 'What exactly 'Listen. I'll read it to you.' Bet read the article aloud in a fast She paused expectantly when she had finished. For a moment Jo said nothing. Her hands were sweating. She as she held it to her ear. The room 'roundher. 'Jo? Jo, are you there?' Bet's insistent voice cut slowly in her head. Jo managed to speak at last. 'Where did he get the story from?' 'He doesn't say-Quote! "Close friend of Nick's" unquote. He's timed it well with Nick abroad. It is true, I 'I don't know,' Jo said. 'He never told me he'd been regressed. asked him but he avoided telling me. It's... it's grotesque.' a whisper. Her suspicions, her worst secret fears - they were true then, She felt suddenly sick. 'Are you going to ring him?' 'No.' 'But you must! You've got to ask him ifit's true.' 'Over the phone? When he's three and a half thousand miles " to know, he'd have told :loed her eyes. 'Leave it, Bet. I leave it alone ' 'But Jo ' 560 561 'Bet, you told me Nick wanted to kill me. It wasn't Nick. It was John. It was John who ordered Matilda's death.' There was a long silence. At the other end of the phone Bet's eyes had begun to gleam. 'Jo,' she began cautiously. 'No,' Jo said. 'I don't want to talk about it.' She cbged the subject abruptly. 'I rang your Mr Clements in Brecon.' 'Oh good.' Bet contained her excitement about Nick with an effort. 'When are you going to interview him?' 'On Tuesday. I'll drive down on Monday afternoon and stay with Mrs Griffiths again. That'll give me a week to write and polish the article for you.' 'I knew you'd do it, Jo. And then, if while you're there anything shcndd happen ' 'It won't.' Jo's voice was repressive. 'Believe me, Bet, it won't. Especially now.' Her last words were barely audible. Bet bit her lip, trying m keep her voice casual. 'When was Nick planning to come back?' 'He didn't know. It depended on how things were going in New York.' 'And you'll still be going out there when you've finished the article?' There was a long silence. 'I don't know, Bet,' Jo said at last. 'I'll have to think about it now.' The lane was steep and very rutted when Jo finally arrived at Pen y Garth. Nervously she put the MG into first and crawled up it, waiting to hear the hard crusted earth ripping out the bottom of the car. At the top of the hill the pitch debauched suddenly onto a mountainside ablaze with gorse and ended in front of a low, whitewashed farmhouse. Drawing up with relief, Jo climbed out and reached for her bag. The familiar smell ofmountain grass and wild thyme and bracken filled her lungs, mied with the acid sweetness of the pale pink roses which clung and tumbled round the sentry-box porch at the front of the house. Above the white walls there was an uneven roof of thick Welsh slates, green with lichen and speckled with yellow stouecrop. Jo stared round. The farm faced east towards the Wye She could see for miles. 'You like our view?' A figure had appeared in the doorway. Jo smiled. 'It's quite breathtaking.' Ben Clements laughed. 'In every sense if you'd walked up the road. Come in.' She followed him into the single large room which made up ground floor of the farmhouse. Half kitchen, half living the stone floor was scattered with brightly coloured rag and littered with toys, the walls crammed with books ; Jo looked round, startled by the colour and the untidiness all. 'I didn't reallse you had small children!' she haz , as she avoided a wooden train set. He threw back his head and laughed. 'One of the penalties old is insanity in our family! I got married at the of fifty-seven and, unequal to the horrors of family found myself pret, nant, as you might say. Have a I never ask anyone up here before twelve and then I have all this silly social nonsense ofponcing about with what-not. You can have Scotch or beer.' Jo grinned. She could feel she was going to like this man. Please.' He nodded approval. 'I hope you didn't want to see Ann particularly. She's taken them to Hereford for the to see some cousin or other who's paying a flying visit.' ; Jo felt her heart sink. 'It would have been nice. I'm writing woman's magazine. So the woman's angle is important.' : 'Ah.' He grimaced. 'I've cocked things up, haven't I? Con male thought it was me you would want to see. My are nearly always men, my dear. Forgive handed her halfa tumbler of Scotch, undiluted. 'I wanted to see you both. Perhaps I could come Clements i at home and interview her then, you now?' , It would mean staying longer in Hay. Was that what she really? Pushing away the thought, Jo concentrated on the gentle face of the man in front ofher. He was still smiling. 'Fair enough. So, do you want to see the farm at all?' Jo reached into her bag for her notebook and camera. She nodded. 'I'm going to take some snaps if I may, then we'll send down a proper photographer if mine" aren't good enough!' 'Of course they'll be good enough.' He led the way to the door. 'You mustn't be defeatist, my dear. That won't do at all.' He turned. 'Ann told me you were a formidable lady, whose articles are nearly always very scathing. That true?' 'Often. Does it worry you?' 'Not a bitl' He ducked under the low doorway and preceded her round the farmhouse to the back where a stone wall surrounded a large vegetable garden. 'I've had everything thrown at me by the farming chaps who think I'm round the bend. Luckily more and more people are seeing it my way now and I think people of the organic persuasion are slowly winning through.' Quickly and methodically he showed Jo around the smallholding, supervising her notes and taking most of her photographs for her. Then he led the way back inside and refilled her glass. 'Ann's left a cold lunch for us. Shall we eat outside?' He glanced at her. 'I amuse you, don't I?' Jo smiled. 'No. I was just thinking you might as well have given me duplicated notes at the door. You are too used to giving these interviews.' 'OK, I stand reprimanded. Now, you interview me.' He carried the plates out to a table outside the hack door where the blazing sun was partially deflected from them by a trellis hung with honeysuckle. 'Ask me all the questions I haven't answered yet.' Jo sat down. 'Does your wife get lonely up here?' 'Shouldn't you ask her that?' His face lit with humour. 'I shall. I just wondered hat you thought she felt about it.' 'Well.' He took a huge mouthful of food. 'Ann is a remarkable woman. She has enormous inner resources. Of course I resupposing her genuine love of the country, but there is to it than that. She loves the mountains and the rivers '.he loneliness. She loves the soil, the joy of making things just as I do. She likes the people, the villages, the not antisocial just because we live up here but neither do we miss people when we don't see them a while. Like me, she came to Wales as a foreigner. I'm a she, God help her, is American! But we both been completely absorbed by this country with its and its traditions, its history. These hills may look to you, but they are full of life and dreams and Fascinating. What is it? What have I said?' HIS blue eyes had noticed Jo's sudden tenseness. She forced a smile. 'Nothing. Go on.' 'You're a sceptic? A townie?' 'No.' Jo met his gaze. 'I've lived up here, too.' 'Ah. I wondered why they'd sent you, particularly. So you I meant. Whereabouts did you live?' Jo hesitated. How she had said the words she could hardly them, and besides, she had an overwhelming urge to him, Glancing across at his face briefly she looked across the falling mountainside towards the misty dis and took a deep breath. 'You'll probably think I am mad. It was a long time ago. In previous existence.' She paused, waiting for his laughter. ; however, watching her intently, and after a on. She told him everything. When she fell silent at last he did speak for several minutes, gazing silently out across the 'That is a truly amazing story,' he said at last. 'Truly I had heard ofMoll Walbee, of course. Who hasn't here? But to have entered so completely into her life, extraordinary.' 'You believe me then?' 'I believe it has happened to you, yes. As for the explana -' he shrugged. 'I think I must seek for a more mundane 564 565 explanation than reincarnation.' He smiled enigmatically. 'To do with the relativity of time.perhaps. I would suggest that you have an area of your brain particularly sensitive to what one might call the echo of time. You have tuned in, as you might say, to Matilda's wavelength and can, when in a state of receptiveness "listen in".' He put his head on one side. 'How does that theory sound to you?' Jo grinned. She leaned forward and pulled her plate towards her again, helping herself to a slice of Ann Clements' crumbling stoneground bread. 'To be honest my brain has given up asking how and why. The last few times it happened I wanted to fight it. I don't want it to happen again. And I think I know how to stop it now. One must not let one's brain be distracted into blankness. It is only receptive when it's idling, like a car engine out of gear.' 'Fascinating,' Ben said again. 'You know, you must talk to Ann.about this. She was a psychology major at UCLA and past life recall was a particular interest of hers. She wrote an article about it for one of your sister magazines some time ago. Your editor might even have seen it.' Jo stared at him. Then she gave a wry smile. 'I think she may indeed,' she said. 'it would have been almost too great a coincidence, my coming here otherwise, I suppose.' She sighed. 'But I am glad I'm here now. Talking about it has helped. Perhaps Bet has done me a favour after all.' He glanced at her under his heavy eyebrows. 'I'm not surprised that it has worried you, though. It would scare the pants offmel' He reached for some bread and applied a rich lump of cheese to the crust then, munching thoughtfully, he sat back in his chair. 'But from what you have said it's not your journeys into the past that have upset you and put you off repeating the exercise.. It is the involvement of other people in the present. If you don't mired my saying so, it sounds to me as if you've allowed yourself to be too much used by people who seem to have points they all want to prove at your expense, from your journalist colleagues to your boyfriend.' 'But they are all involved -' 'Perhaps.' He reached forward and touched her hand. 'It's a nice theory, but don't be too ready to believe what others say, my dear. Look in your own heart for the answer. That is the only place you'll fred the truth. Now, let me get you some cheese. This is our own cream cheese from Aphrodite and her daughters, or there is a curd cheese from Polyphema, the one-eyed goat.' He twinkled at her mi.chievously. 'You must keep your brain fully alert while you are here, Joanna. I am not sure I could cope with a visitation from a baron's lady as well as afternoon milking!' 567 Jo took the wrong road at the bottom of the hill and found herself heading north west instead of back along the Wye valley towards Hay. She almost stopped to turn, then on a sudden defiant impulse she drove on into the narrow busy streets of Brecon itself, slowing the car to a standstill in the knotted traffic. She found a place to park, then wandered slowly round the town before climbing to the cathedral with its squat tower. By the time she had reached it she had made up her mind. Pushing open the door she walked in, staring round. The guide book was we informative. It was during the lifetime of Bishop Giles de Breos and his brother Regld that the eastern part of the original Norma church of Bernard of New march had been replaced by the chancel, tower and transepts that exist today... Her eye travelled down the lines of close print. Reginald was the only Lord of Brecknock to be buried in the Priory Church .... She bit her lip staring round. Reginald was buried here. Here, somewhere beneath the lovely arching vault of the chancel... Suddenly she didn't want to know. Reginald, that sturdy, cheerful boy, her third son, whom she loved in such an uncomplicated way and who had loved her. Her eyes filled with tears, and it was only with an effort that she pulled berselftogether. After all she had not needed to come into the cathedral. If she had really wanted no more to do with the de Braose family she should not have come to Brecon at all. She stood staring up at the high altar with its carved reredos and its offering of flowers below the huge stalned-glaas window, then forced herself to look back at the guide book which told about the church of the de Braoses. There wasn't much left of the castle. A mound and an ivy-covered fragment of wall, that was all, but she was used to that now. She climbed the worn staircase carefully and stood staring out across the roof tops towards the vivid toothed outline of the Beacons. Yes, this view she did remember; the outline in the mist, and the sunset behind that faraway bastion of mountains. She dug her nails into the stone blocks of the wall, th6n, taking a deep, relaxing breath, she deliberately began to empty her mind. The room was dark and there was a pounding in her temples. She tried to raise her head, then with a groan, let it fall back on the pillows, lights flashing and searing behind her eyelids. She lay, exhausted, for what seemed a long time, then dazedly, she realised there were people in the room with her. Someone helped her to vomit and she lay back again, a cool wet cloth across her burning forehead. She heard Elen's alternately scolding and soothing, and a man's voice intoning something. Was it prayers or a magic charm? She but her mind slipped away and wandered again. Two men in Aberhonddu had died of the plague and one of s clerks had succumbed, with suppurating boils s armpits, and she had visited him holding a bunch rue to her nose; and laid a gentle hand on his forehead, to ease his pain, before they realised what illness it was had struck him down. The summer was cursed. No rain had fallen. The harvest failing. Heat shimmered and hung over the mountains Lord Rhys was dead. His sons still r and Grnffydd was imprisoned nor of the little son them she had borne. No news.., no she called for her nurse, but Jeanne did not and Matilda could feel the tears wet on her cheek as the swept her once more into darkness. A cursed summer. A summer when William had quar with Trehearue Vaughan, her kind, scholarly friend, the man who had given her her Welsh a kinsman of the Welsh princes. His face floated in and ofher dreams with William's. William who never came. 569 Willia-m who kept away from the plague-bound castle and left her to her fate. It was a long while later that she woke and, for a time, looked around. The pain in her head seemed to have eased for a moment and then she became conscious of the terrible burning in her groin. She groaned and closed her eyes. It had been dark beyond the uushuttered window, but the flickering light from the sconce by her bed seared her eyes; the room was pungent with bur-Jng herbs from a brazier. She tried to call out and tell them all to go away; m leave her; to save her children, her babies, but her tongue was swollen and dry in her mouth and no wards came. One or two angry tears squeezed out between her swollen eyelids and she sfid once more into a halt-sleeping dream. When she awoke again her bed was wet with sweat and vomit and there seemed to be no one there m help her. 'They have left me to die.' The whole of her left side pained her and there was an agonising cutting pain beneath her arm now as well as on her side. 'Christ! Christ be with me!' This time shenanaged a whisper, but at once someone was there, sponging her face. 'Be brave, mother dear. You will be well.' It was Margaret's voice, shaking, pleading. 'Please mother. You must get well.' The girl was bending over her, trying to ease away the foul pillow. Matilda heard herself scream as the girl jarred her body and she saw the terror in Margaret's eyes. Then she saw nothing more. When she next awoke it must have been dawn. The sconces had gone out and the brazier was cold. A pale light was beginning to filter through the unshuttered window opposite the bed, and she could hear the clear, joyful carolling of a thrush from the rowan tree outside in the bailey. She lay quite still, shivering beneath the damp covers, wondering where she was. The room smelled terrible. She tried to tick her lips, but her tongue was too dry, She could feel the sticky pus nmning down beneath her arm and shoulder. Closing her eyes she drifted into an uneasy sleep. She did not know it yet, but her indomitable body had won the battle against the plague. As soon as she was strong enough, she sat in the high arched window of her solar looking down towards the town out across the river to the mountains. It worried her that legs were feeble and unsteady still, but it was pleasant to herself for a while in the broad view, resting from her ' of the accounts and figures which she had had brought her bedside. The people of Aberhoudduhad suffered ter from their losses in the plague and the poor harvest and knew that they knd all her vast estates faced untold hard if not starvation, in the coming winter. With her hand her aching forehead she tried once again to calcu of the granaries within the castle s could be made to stretch. . Her eye was caught suddenly by a flurry of activity near the Bridge and she sat forward with interest. A small of horsemen seemed to be waiting there, stirring the on the roadway as their impatient animals pawed the Then she saw for whom they were waiting. A party of were riding two by two up the track from the Before them, dearly recognisable under his banner, rode his surcoat emblamned with the rising eagle, shim'.in the sun, the black horse on which he rode prancing the fn'mly held rein. , on the bridge rode forward to meet him and for a the two groups of horsemen drew to a halt, facing in the dusty road. passed her hands over her eyes again, sighing. Her weaker since her illness and all this peering the glare gave her a headache She thought at first the catching her Vision were from her own head then, with a shock, she reaiised they came from the sun reflecting on drawn swords. She leaned forward sud her heart thumping, and the accounts sfid unheeded her knees to the floor. smaller group of men were being beaten back towards seemed to be fighting for their lives. She to follow William, lost sight of him and saw him again. 571 He was determinedly fighting one man, the leader of the other group. Then suddenly it was all over. The man was disarmed. Matilda saw his sword fly, at William's savage stroke, in a great arc, flashing in the sunlight as it fell into the undergrowth by the side of the road. The man was dragged from his horse and his hands bound behind him. Then the victors remounted and at a yell from William set off at the gallop towards the bridge. The man tried des .perately to run with them, lost his balance and fell, to be dragged mercilessly behind the horses of his captors. Matilda watched, sickened, until they were out of sight at the gates of the township, and then she turned from the window. So William had come hack. Elen dressed her in her scarlet surcoat as she asked and then went down to fred Dai, a shepherd who had come in from the hills to sell his flocks to the drovers and had stayed, working for a while, in the stables of the castle. Somehow it had become his self-appointed task to cam/Matilda up and down the steep, winding stairs to her solar and out into the herb garden whenever she required, handling her with such gentleness and ease that she had grown dependent on him in her weakness, although she knew he pined for his hills and would long since have been gone but for her pleas that he stay. 'I will wait for Sir William in the great hall, Dai bach,' she said with a smile, and she was rewarded with a long slow grin as with a quiet 'I, fyng arglwydd,' he bent over her. But William did not come into the hall, although she waited for what seemed like an eternity. When she had imost given up, leaning with closed eyes against the narrow, high backed carved chair by the hearth, she heard the clatter of hooves and the shouts of men in the bailey outside. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she pulled herself up from the chair to be standing when William appeared. 'A hanging! Ttre's to be a hanging.' She heard the excited page call across the hall and saw him scamper out again into the sun. With a quick look over their shoulders in her direction, the three men who had been sweeping out the old rushes cast aside their brooms and ran after the i linge, pushing each other in their haste to leap down the flight outside the hall. Matilda looked round for Dai but he had gone. The man must have been some felon William had encoun on his way from Hay and he was going to administer justice before bothering to come to greet her. She of the poor scoundrel she had watched them away. Slowly, with shaking steps, she made her way to the door and, clinging to the doorpost for support, she looked out scene below her in the bailey. The open area between walls of the keep and the outbuildings which clustered the outer walls was full of men and horses. Her bus was the only man still mounted. She saw him at once, near him a soldier on a ladder was easing a rope across a jutted beyond the rough stones of the wall. She could see no sign of the prisoner. William's face her. It was cruelly twisted; full ofhatred and malice, he looked straight at her, she knew that he hadn't her. She glanced up, shuddering, at the serene sky and at the fruit on the rowan tree growing in the bailey above the shouting men. The women of the castle had gath together near the kitchens and gossiped quietly as they crowd of men. Matilda felt touch on her arm. Margaret was standing behind her. mother. Don't watch.' Matilda shrugged her off. 'I've seen hangings before, child. |was looking for your father.' A sudden noise, haftshout, halfsigh, made her turn back to scene below. They had thrust the prisoner up onto the of a raw-boned horse and were leading him beneath the face was covered in mud and blood, but glancing at Matilda suddenly gave a gasp. 'It's Trehearne Vanghan from Clyro! It's Treheame', she desperately. 'Dear God, is William out of his mind? got to stop him. Mm'garet, help me quickly!' She pushed forward, gripping her daughter's ann. 'William, for Christ's sake, stop!' she screamed. 'Don't do it! At least take time to decide -' But her cry was lost in the roar of the crowd as, with a thwack on its rump, the horse was sent careering across the cobbles, leaving Trehearne hanging from the beam. His legs kicked violently. 'Cut him down, forGod's sake!' she screamed again above the noise of the crowd. 'Oh God! Oh God, stop it! Save him!' She never knew how she found the strength to cross the bailey, but at last she was by her husband. 'William, you can't know what you're doing!' She grabbed at his bridle and his horse reared back, its eyes wild. 'Cut him down, r the love of God.' She groped at him frantically, her eyes blinded with tear. Willlam glanced down at her for a moment unseeing, his face a twisted mask, then suddenly he seemed to realise she was there as she pulled desperately at his mantle. He smiled, and abruptly she stepped back in fear. 'Cut him down. A good idea.' He forced his plunging horse towards the man and sliced through the rope with one stroke of his sword. Trehearne fell to the cobbles, and lay there twitching, his face swollen and purple beneath the mask of drying blood. Looking down at him for a moment William, in the expectant hush around him, suddenly laughed 'I think we'll have his head,' he said, in a tone so quiet that Matilda scarcely heard it. He beckoned and two men-at-minas caught up the spasmodically ierking body and dragged it to the stone mounting block. There, at a nod from William, one of them struck off the man's head with one blow from his heavy two edged sword. A great sigh ran round the bailey, followed by a yell and wild cheering. All around her men and horses had begun to move again, the spectacle over. There was work to be done. Ignoring the fallen trunk of the man, and the bloodied head which lay on the cobbles where it had fallen, Wiillam reined back his ten'or-stricken horse and rode past Matilda to the stein of the great hall. Dismounting he flung his rein to a squire and stamped up into the doorway without a backward ghmce. Matilda stood where she was in the middle of the bailey holding Margaret's arm. The girl's face was white and Matilda could see the blue veins in her temples beating wildly. Swallowing with an effort the bitter bile which had risen in her throat, she began slowly to walk back towards the keep, consciously keeping her back straight, forcing her stein one by one as she leaned on Margaret's shoulder, feeling the : .curious glances being cast in her direction by the dispersing crowd. Dai as she reached the stein and, uncer picking her up, carried her back to the chair by the hearth. William was pouring himse wine from the jug on the table. 'Fyng arg/wyddes, may I have your permission to return to my hills?' She suddenly realised that Dai was kneeling before her, his face a pasty yellow. 'I no longer wish to ran're you. I'm tarry me/stress bac& D/oer, you were good to me indeed, you were, but I cannot stay.' 'I understand, Dai,' she sighed. Her hands were sidng uncontrollably. 'God go with you, my friend.' She watched him stride towards the doorway, eXlxing him to turn, but he didn't. Neither did he so much as acknowledge rilliam's presence standing behind them. He ' went out onto the steps without a backward glance and ran down out of sight. Margaret pressed a goblet of wine into her hand. 'Drink mother, you look so pale.' She glanced apprehensively her shoulder towards her father, but he continued to pouring himself another goblet and emptyingit gulp. Matilda turned and looked at him at last. 'Did Trehearne 'merit such high-handed, barbaric treatment, William?' , her voice trembling. He set down the goblet with a bang on the treble. 'In my he did.' . 'He emed to be waiting for you at Aberhonddu.' 574 575 'We had arranged to meet there, certainly.' He strode down offthe dab. 'He seemed to think we could discuss our differences and part friends. Ha! He misjudged me!' Matilda raised an eyebrow. 'So, I think, do a lot of people, William,' she murmured in disgust. 'Have you thought Of the repercussions which will follow? Trehearne was well liked by others as well as me, and he has powerful kinsmen.' 'So he couldn't stop telling me. The man blabbed like a coward. He thought you could stop me. He thought Gwenwynwyn would revenge his death and that the Marches will be alight from Chester to Monmouth with revenge for his scrawny bones.' He turned and spat viciously into the rushes. 'I doubt ifhe's as important as he hink.' 'Page!' he yelled at the boy who stood listening, openmouthed, by the serving screens. 'Help me off with my hauberk before I send you after Gwenwynwyn, yu imp!' He threw back his head and laughed, then he hurled his goblet at the wall where it struck and rolled away,*dented, into a corner. Lying taut and sleepless in bed that ight next to her snoring husband, Matilda could not close her eye. The picture of Trehearne's pitiful death kept rising before her, and with it the sight Ofber husband's laughter. William seemed to care neither for the death of a neighbour and her friend, nor for his broken word- for he had, it appeared, given Trehearne safe conduct to travel through his lands nor for the revenge which would undoubtedly follow. His conceit and his overweening arrogance were complete.. And, though it didn't seem important any more, she could not help but notice that he had not once enquired for her health or excused his own flight from Brecknock in the summer. When they had finally gone to bed he had been incapably drunk. There were tears on her cheeks when Jo came to. She remained quite still, leaning ag inat the wall, her eyes fixed on the mighty sllmmit Of Pen y Fan and for a moment she did not dare move, wondering with a shudder of disgust if she still had the mrks of the plague sores on her body. Then suddenly, below her in the street, she heard some children laugh The sound acted like a charm, easing away the awful stench and f'dth and miy of her u'ance and upright, feeling the sun beating down on her head. was a throbbing in her temples, and the perspiration down between her shoulder-blades was aggravating raw whiplash across her back, but other than that there no pain. She shuddered violently. William had indeed to answer for. was in the kitchen when Jo arrived back at house. She glanced at Jo in concern. 'There now, it's ill looking again, girl,' she said. 'Come you in and sit And have a glass of my sherry, won't you? I'm all alone You're doing too much driving up and down, you are. you try and stay down here for a bit?' o sat down gratefully on a kitchen chair. 'I would like to,' 'I'm doing two jobs at once, that's the trouble.' She sherry and closed her eyes. to go and have a sleep, girl? I'll get you some later.' Margiad eyed her closely. She could see the on Jo's face, the grey pallor beneath her tanned the lines of pain which had not been there two weeks he had first seen her. Jo shook her head slowly. 'Do you believe in destiny, Mrs 'Destiny, is it?' Margiad thought for a moment. She pulled the chair opposite Jo and eased herself into it. 'Fate, you mean? No. I don't. Life is what you make of it We've no one to blame but ourselves in the end. It's you are, isn't it?' Jo nodded. 'I suppose I am.' She reached for the bottle ' and refliled her empty glass. Margiad, who had yet sipped her own sherry, said nothing. 'I think I'm being haunted,' Jo said softly. raised a brisk eyebrow. 'Who by?' 576 577 'A woman who died nearly eight hundred years ago.' 'You mean, you've seen her?' Jo frowned. 'She's not a ghost. Not an external thing at all. She's inside me. Somewhere in my mind - memories .... ' She put down her glass and put her hands over her eyes. 'I'm sorry. You must think I'm mad.' Margiad shook her.head slowly. 'I told my Doreen that you had a fey look about you when first I saw you. You've Welsh blood in you, haven't you, for all your English way of talking?' Jo groped in her pocket for a tissue. Not finding one she stood up and tore a paper towel from the roll over the sink. 'I think I must have,' she said slowly. 'It is like that with a lot of Celtic people,' Margiad said comfortably. 'They have the sight. It is not easy for those who cnnot control it, but you must learn to five with it. Don't fight what's in you, girl. Accept it as a giit from God.' 'But I'm nor foreseeing the future,' Jo said in anguish. 'Though, God knows, perhaps that would be even worse. I'm seeing the past! In great detail.' 'Then there's a reason for it. A truth to be learned, an injustice to be righted - who knows?' Stiffly Margiad stood up. She disappeared into her sitting room and Jo could hear her rummaging around in a. drawer. A moment later she returned. In her hands was an old leather-covered Bible. She thrust it at Jo. 'Pray if you can, girl. If you can't, just put it under your pillows. It'll ward off the bad dreams. Now, I've a nice stew cooking. It'll be ready in an hour, so you go up and have a hot bath, and put all this out of your head!' Hick lay back on his hotel bed and tore off his tie. His shirt was damp from the heat of the sidewalk outside and he was sweating and uncomfortable but, for the moment, he was too exhausted even to go and stand under the cold shower. He put his arm across his eyes. The presentation had gone well; he should be elated. He listened wearily to the wail of a police siren filieen floors below in Lexington Avenue. 578 He was almost asleep when the phone rang beside him. He rolled over onto his elbows and picked up the receiver. 'Hick?' It was Jim Greerson. 'How did it go?' Hick lay back. 'OK. I think things are looking hopeful. How about your end?' 'I had dinner with Mike Desmond as arranged last night. I grovelled a bit more, old boy, and then I told him what an ass he was, chucking the best up-and-coming firm in London just because we'd given a break to a new bloke. I told him wed supervise a new campaign for him personally.' He hesitated. 'When I say we, I actually said you.' 'And?' Nick crossed his ankle over his raised knee. He was gazing up at the ceiling. 'He's not too pleased with the service he's got so far from you know who. I gather he expected them to jump once they'd got a sniff of the account, instead of which, according to him, they sent some teenybopper copywriter over. I saw him at a good psychological moment. Besides which he said he couldn't pass up the opportunity of being serviced by royalty.' Jim sniggered. 'Royalty?' Nick leaned over and reached for the iug of orange iulce on the bedside table. 'What royalty? Don't tell me Prince Edward has decided to become an adman?' 'No, old son. You.' The ?' 'Your secret life. You mean you don't know it's blown? It's all over the papers here, for God's sake. The Mail had it on Thursday and the Standard on Friday.' Nick sat up. 'What secret life? What the hell are you talking about?' 'Hang on, hang on. I'll f'md the page and read it to you. Bear with me, old boy. It's midnight here, and I've had a hard day.' Nick lay still, his eyes closed as Jim read the piece to him over the transatlantic line. He felt completely detached, as if the person being talked about was someone else. He was not surprised, not even indignant. Merely very, very weary.. 579 When Jim finished there was a brief silence. 'Is it all true, old boy?' Jim said tentatively alter a moment. 'It's true that I let my brother hypnotise me, yes,' Nick said curtly. 'As to what happened, you'll have to ask him. I remember nothing about it. It all seems very far-fetched.' He heard himself laugh. 'I suppose Judy Curzon is responsible for this. I'll wring her neck when I get back.' 'Better send her to the Tower, old boy, it's more in character,' Jim laughed uproariously. 'You haven't heard from Jo about it then?' he asked curiously after a moment. 'No,' Nick said shortly. 'Not a word.' There was a moment's silence, then Jim went on, 'Listen, I've got a meeting at eight tomorrow, so I'd best go or I'll never wake up. I'll call you tomorrow, same time, OK?' Nick replaced the receiver. Sitting up, he swung his legs to the floor. The alr-conditioniug had made the room very cold. Walking into the bathroom he stripped off his shirt and turned the shower full on then he went back to the phone. 'I want to call London,' he said brusquely and he gave his own number. Margiad Griliiths woke Jo with a cup oftea. She sat down on the edge of Jo's bed. 'How did you sleep then?' Jo stretched. 'Very well. Your charm must have worked.' She felt beneath the pillow for the old Bible and touched it lightly. Margiad nodded. 'I knew it would. There was a phone call for you earlier,' she went on. She reached into the pocket of her skirt for a piece of paper. 'Mr Clements. He said would you go and have lunch with him and his wife tomorrow about twelve. He said don't ring back unless you can't go.' Jo smiled. 'That's nice of him. Mr Clements is the reason I'm here. He's written lots of books on smallholdings and animals and the history of Northumberland. He's bought a place near Brecon.' Margiad stood up. 'Famous, is he?' She smiled. 'And you're writing about him, are you? Good. That'll take your 58O mind off your other troubles.' She hesitated in the doorway. 'What will you do today, then?' Jo sat up, pushing her heavy hair offher face. She glanced at the window where a thin layer of hazy cloud masked the blue of the sky. 'I'll stay here another night or two if I may,' she said. 'I've some notes to write up about Ben Clements, and then ' she hesitated. 'Then I think I'll explore Hay a little more.' Heavy swirling black clouds were building up in the western sky although as yet there was no breath of wind. Matilda reined in her horse and glanced up, then she signalled the horsemen round her to hurry as they cantered back down the track towards Hay, following the curving arm of the Wye through the flat dry meadows, throwing up clouds of powdery dust which stung the eyes and choked the throat. A zigzag of lightning lit up the purple sky and sent her horse shying across the path of her companion, Lady de Say, who swore like a man and grabbed at the pommel of her saddle to prevent herself from being thrown. It was unbearably hot. 'I'll wager a silver penny we can get back before the fast raindrop falls,' Matilda called over. her shoulder. She was exhilarated suddenly by the threat of the storm. It had been a bitter and unhappy year, and she had been preoccupied during much of the ride with dark thoughts of the events which had followed Treheame's murder. His death had served, inevitably, as an excuse for more fighting in the hills and the intervention of his kinsman, the increasingly powerful Prince Gwenwynwyn, who had laid siege to Paiuscastle in his turn, with a huge force of men. In a last attempt at mediation !their son-in-law Gruffydd had, at Matilda's suggestion, been brought back to Hay from his imprisonment at Corfe. But his i surly attempts as a peacemaker failed and on 13 August, the of Holy Hippolytas, hostilities had culminated in a major t behind Trehearne's home at Clyro, as barons fought desperately to retain their ascendancy in the r won, but with a terrible toll of Welsh lives. Another flash oflighming ripped across the sky, followed by 581 a distant rumble of thunder and, putting her distal! thoughts firmly behind her, she raised her whip and urged her horse into a gallop, her veil stromlug in the wind, tendrils of hair tearing themselves loose from her wimple and whipping across her eyes. She raced up the hill into Hay scattering children and poultry, oblivious of the shaken heads and secret smiles of the men and women who saw her pass into the great gates in the walls ofher castle. The guards came to attention smartly and Matilda reined in her horse to a rearing, sweating halt. With a glance up at the huge, swollen clouds she turned to claim her wager from the dishevelled, unhappy lady who had tried to keep up with her ahead of their bodyguard, when all thoughts of it were driven suddenly from her head by the sight of a figure coming towards her across the bailey. Dropping her horse's rein, she gave a short gasp, not daring to believe her ey@. 'Tilda?' she whispered at last as she slipped .from the high w6oden saddle. 'Tilda, is it really you?' The girl had grown as tall as her mother, slim, with silver hair anda complexion as fair as the ivory of a carved crucifix. 'I hope you are well, mother dear,' Tilda s miled and curtseyed formally before submitting coolly to her mother's ecstatic kiss. 'I have come to be with Gruffydd.' 'And your baby, Tilda? Did you bring him?' Matilda held the girl's two h-nds in her own, gazing into her face. There was so much of Richard there - and so little. Tilda lowered her lashes. 'I have two children now, mother. Rhys who is two, and Owain. He is only seven months. They-' she hesitated, glancing away. 'That is, we thought it better that they should remain with Gruffydd's mother and their nurses. I have come alone.' 'You mean they wouldn't let you bring the children with you?' Matilda seized on the fact hotly. 'The Welsh have kept them as hostages, two small babies!' 'No mother, do be calm. It wasn't safe or suitable to bring them, that's all. They are safe and happy where they are. I wouldn't have left them otherwise.' Tilda glanced up as the first heavy drops of rain began. 'Come, let's go in, mother. I don't want to tell you my news in front of your entire escort, in a thunderstorm!' She led the way to the door of the hall, her figure slim and erect like her mother's. But there the similarity ended. Where Matilda was auburn and high coloured. Tilda was pale and ethereal. The mother belonged to the sun; the daughter to the moon. Since Margaret had gone at last, only a month before, to marry her Walter, the castle had seemed quiet. Of all her children Margaret was the most like her mother and Matilda missed her support and companionship sorely and dreaded the fact that at any moment Walter would take her away to his earldom across the Irish Sea, in Meath. Isobel was soon to go too, to Roger Mortimer at Wigmore, whose first wife had died in the plague, and whose eager suit William had indulgently . agreed, so it was a double joy to have her eldest daughter home. But Tilda proved a hurtful disappointment. She showed little warmth to her mother, answering her excited questions in a bored tone which effectively dampened Matilda"s en.thusiasm. She went to sit obediently at Gruffydd's side as soon as he returned with William to the castle, and reduced Isobel to tears with her cutting, icy criticism. Matilda, who had been going to beg her to come with her to for the Christmas. celebrations, bit back the invitation. 'You've changed, Tilda. Yu used to be .gentle and obedient to your family,' she reproached her sadly. Tilda drew a quick breath and turned on her mother, her eyes flashing. 'I owe you no obedience, mother. My duty is to my husbandl And it is hard to be gentle when my father is an ogre and a murderer throughout the principalities. is known for his treachery and his double-dealing. And as you.' The girl paused, her nostrils pinched suddenly. call you a sorceress,' she hissed. 'I hear stories being r children of Mallt the witch who will come for them if they don't sleep, and it's their own grandmother who is being talked off' Her voice had risen to a cry of anguish. Matilda looked at her in horrified silence for a moment. 'Why don't you stop them?' She turned away, not wanting the girl to see the indignant tears which threatened to come suddenly to her eyes. 'Because for all I know, it's true.' There was no miaking the hard note of dislike in Tilda's voice. 'I remember you muttering spells when I was a chiids you and that old nurse of yours. I remember the smoking concoctions you would brew up in your still room. And there are other things. They say you talk to spirits, that you called up a hundred thousand devils at Dinas, that you ride with the storm- as you did,' her eyes suddenly flashed, 'the day I came here, mother.' Matilda sat down on a carved joint stool and gazed into the I.owing embers of the fire. 'If you believe all that of me, Tilly, why did you come back to us?' 'I came to see Grufrydd. I didn't know if he would be allowed to come home. I had m come here.' 'I see:' Matilda's voice was flat. 'Well,