Freya's Quest (18 page)

‘But I sense there’s something else keeping you tied to Dylan, isn’t there?’

‘Maybe.’ But she did not elucidate.

I left it there. If Janis didn’t want to talk about it, then I had the courtesy not to try to drag it out of her. After all, she’d already talked so freely and frankly, to an extent far more reaching than I had ever thought she would.

We were starting to descend steeply off the ridge, through the slag heaps of a neglected nineteenth-century mine. I was exhausted. And the boots Dylan had bought for me were beginning to hurt my feet. After complaining for some time, Janis sat me down and took them off, finding my heels and little toes had blistered badly.

She brought out her first-aid kit. E-J swirled around us impatiently as her mother skilfully plastered over my wounds. ‘You poor thing. Dylan should’ve told you mountain boots take a lot of breaking in.’

She helped me to my feet and stayed near, assisting me to negotiate the descent. E-J skipped on merrily ahead, still full of energy, and grateful to be moving again.

We had started the day’s walk at nine o’clock; now it was after three.

‘We’ll stop by that stream down there in a minute and finish off the rest of our lunch. Looks like you could do with a little more sustenance. Once we’re past this bit, it’s a much more gentle walk.’

‘Good,’ I sighed, showing how much I meant it.

‘Esmerelda!’ Janis screamed suddenly. ‘Get away from those mine workings!’

She rushed down to where E-J was located, next to a gaping shaft. Janis gave her three rapid slaps on her bottom, whereupon E-J began to cry.

‘Haven’t I told you enough times to keep near me and not go wandering off?….Answer me, sweetheart.’

‘Yes, Mummy,’ E-J whimpered.

‘Good. You could’ve fallen down there, love, and hurt yourself….or worse. Y’know I only want to keep you safe, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Mummy.’

Janis kissed and cuddled her daughter then, as if to seek her forgiveness for losing her temper.

We sat down to consume the last of the sandwiches, mintcake and orange juice. Then we were off again, joining the old railway which had once served the mine, the tracks long-since removed.

E-J bounced off ahead again, although she did turn around every once in a while to keep an eye on her mother.

I took this moment to say: ‘I think I know the overriding reason why you stay with Dylan.’

Janis stared at me, but said nothing.

‘E-J is Dylan’s daughter, isn’t she?’

‘How did you guess that?’ she said, taken completely unawares.

‘Well, I know Dylan’s favourite classic novel is
Notre Dame
. He called his dog after one of the principal characters; so it seems natural to assume he might’ve named his daughter after another of them.’

‘Indeed. Clever. You’re right, of course….But please don’t tell my mum.’

We descended a little further down the slope.

Then Janis said: ‘We’ve talked a lot about Dylan, but you’re somewhat of an enigma yourself, aren’t you?’

I gave her a puzzled look.

‘You intrigue me. You have an intellectual curiosity that reminds me a little of Sera. Maybe that’s why he finds you so appealing….But I’m fascinated about what attracts you to him, beyond his obvious sexual prowess. There’s a compulsion in you to go deeper. Is there an ulterior motive?’

My defences came swiftly into action to quell her suspicions. ‘No, not really. I only wish to understand him better, that’s all,’ I said, shrugging my shoulders.

We walked on without further comment.

The track descended through a small gorge. I was stunned by the sight. The mountain had eroded away to leave a small crag of more resistant rock, rising like a sentry all on its own, guarding the Derwent valley. I realized I had seen it several times from differing vantage points over the last few weeks. Only now, at close quarters, did it get my undivided attention.

The path ran directly through this cleft. I looked up at the cliff and the great mass of scree strewn across its slopes.

‘This is the most romantic place I’ve ever seen. What’s it called?’

‘Castle Crag,’ Janis answered politely, but somewhat strained.

I noticed a route to the top, weaving steeply through the scree.

‘Can we climb it?’

‘No,’ Janis said brusquely.

‘Oh, come on. It won’t take us long.’ With that, I began to climb up the path, all thought of my exhaustion and the pain in my feet forgotten for the moment.

Janis was left with no option but to follow with E-J.

The scree turned out to be the waste product of a quarry, located right on the top. The path zigzagged through the heaps of slate, past a ruined house and the hole the quarrymen had left, to the summit.

Stunted trees lined the edges, where rocks sheered away into cliffs. A memorial for local men killed in the Great War elevated the peak a few feet higher.

I reached the top long before the others arrived. No one else was there. For a few moments I had the place to myself.

I was absorbed by the fantastic panorama. I could make out the Skiddaw massif, Keswick and the ferryboat we’d travelled on earlier in the day still chugging its way across the lake. I wished I could wake up every day to such a view.

Presently, Janis approached.

‘I’m glad I came up here. For only fifteen minutes of exertion, one couldn’t hope for a better summit. It crowns the day for me.’

I swung around and hugged Janis. ‘Thank you for a marvellous day.’

She tensed up and pulled away from me. She rushed down the pathway at breakneck speed, gathering up E-J on the way.

I cursed to myself. The friendship I’d been trying to cultivate all day had been jeopardized, but I couldn’t understand her reaction.

I followed the Nortons off Castle Crag, down through the gorge and into the forest by the banks of the river.

Surprisingly, we had come out at the very place where Dylan and I had met Emily the other day. But she and her newfound friends had now decamped.

When I caught up with Janis, she was sitting on the riverbank, her back turned towards me, dangling her feet in the clear water.

I came and sat down next to her, not attempting to look at her face.

E-J was paddling in the river with other youngsters. We had caught up with the tourists again.

‘I’m sorry, Jan. I’m not sure what I’ve done, but I’m truly sorry for upsetting you.’

Janis turned her head to face me. She looked as if she’d been crying ever since she’d left Castle Crag.

‘Don’t worry.’

We set off again, through the campground and along the lane to Grange.

I was expecting Janis to explain what had upset her for every silent second of that walk back to the Citroën. But nothing could prepare me for what she was about to reveal.

Janis stopped in the middle of the Grange bridge, leant against the wall and gazed at the water. Then she lifted her head and looked back towards Castle Crag, now masked by the trees.

‘You see, Freya, you were standing on the very spot where Sera threw herself off!’

WHEN I AWOKE the next morning, I shifted uncomfortably on the bed. As I turned over, I felt a strange sensation. I held up the duvet to find the whole of my body covered in freshly cut red roses from the garden. Overcoming my initial surprise, I smelt their sweet fragrance and became caught in the romantic mood Dylan had wanted to induce. I cast off the covers, which sent some of the roses onto the floor, and stood up. As I did so, I stepped on some of the discarded roses and winced as I felt pricks in my feet. I knelt down and clutched my foot, realizing he had left the thorns on the stems. This broke the mood.

I hobbled over to the dressing table and sat down. I began to brush my hair, discovering a tuft of hair sticking out from the rest. At first I thought nothing of it, trying to brush it back into place. This did not succeed, and on further examination, I realized a lock of my hair had been cut off!

I clutched at the side of my head. I was caught in a quandary as to how to react, which symbolized my growing ambivalence towards my lover. I’d wanted to spend this second consecutive night on my own. I could live with knowing he had invaded my privacy to make a romantic – and perhaps a conciliatory – gesture. But in cutting my hair, I felt he had abused my trust. Something about this behaviour disturbed me, and I wondered about his motivation.

I stared into the mirror and could not move for at least five minutes. I carried on brushing out the tangles in my hair, steadying my nerves. I heard the mingled voices of Emily, Yasuko and Janis rumbling away in my thoughts.

Leave now, or be further embroiled….Leave now, or be prepared to share him….Be careful, he has a darker side….Easy to get, impossible to keep….

I debated whether it was the time to go. I had stayed with Dylan longer than most. I could have left long before now. In remaining, I’d begun to discover deeper layers of his complex character. This held out a fascination for me. But something lay beyond even this – a strange compulsion to keep close to Dylan, utterly beyond all reason and self-preservation.

To depart now would leave my task incomplete. An oddly disappointing scenario. Not just for John, but for me.

Instead, I put some of my new clothes into my rucksack, together with the spare set of Austin-Healey keys. This would facilitate a fast escape at a later time, if need be.

Dylan’s approaching footsteps in the corridor made me bundle the rucksack back inside the wardrobe. Then I dived onto the bed and flipped myself over onto the floor on the other side. I climbed to my feet, running back to the dressing table and sitting down in the chair, just in time for Dylan to appear.

I fiddled with my hair as Dylan came up behind me. He nestled his head against mine, laid his hands upon my shoulders, and whispered into my ear. ‘I hope you liked the roses. Peace offering. I’m sorry I upset you so much.’

He kissed my cheek and his right hand crept under my gown and encircled my left breast before I could answer.

‘It was a nice thought.’ I felt myself succumbing to his roaming fingers on my nipple and fought hard mentally to resist it.

I turned and gave him a perfunctory kiss on his lips, then tried to rise to my feet. He withdrew his hand, disappointed.

‘Look, I just need a little more time, Dylan.’

He sat down on the bed, but did not respond.

‘I can’t get my head around the concept of sharing you with others.’

‘I see.’ He bowed his head to the floor and fidgeted with his fingers. ‘You’re not the only one to’ve said that, of course. That’s why few stay for long.’

‘It doesn’t help when you hide things from me. Why didn’t you tell me Yasuko was your wife?’

‘Well….you never asked.’

I shook my head at his facetious reply and ignored his grin. ‘You’ll need to give me more time to process it all. Otherwise you’ll lose me for good as well.’

Dylan became distressed, slapped his hands on his thighs and cast his arms skyward. He climbed to his feet and paced the room in manic fashion. Then he became more pensive as he propped himself against the windowsill.

‘Well, I’ve said all along you can leave when you like. I’m not stopping you. Everyone else seems to be doing so, so why not join the crowd, eh?’

I came over to him, compassion returning, draping myself over him and kissing him again. ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’

‘Don’t tease me, Freya. Make up your mind.’

He pushed me to one side and made for the door.

Seeing my forlorn expression as he turned back to face me, he said: ‘I’ve got a novel to write, so you’ll have plenty of time to think things through.’

He closed the door and my composure broke. It was getting increasingly difficult to maintain my false facade.

Suddenly, the door reopened and he saw me slumped against the wall. He ignored this, and said: ‘I’m expecting a postal delivery. Please see to it, so I don’t have to be disturbed. Thanks.’

He left and I heard the door to the tower being opened, closed, then locked.

I’d made my choice, at least for now.

I dressed and went down to the kitchen, trying to cheer myself up with a full fried breakfast. Despite this, I found myself moping around the Lodge with increasing lassitude. I returned to Dylan’s novel, which provided some escape, finishing it and falling asleep on the sofa in the drawing room.

The shrill sound of the entrance buzzer awoke me. I wearily climbed to my feet, and went into the front hallway to find a red light flashing on the video link. I picked up the telephone, seeing the postal truck on the monitor, and buzzed him through when he confirmed his details.

I went out to meet him at the front door. A short, grey-haired man in a cap climbed down from the cab.

‘’Ello, deliv’ry for Mr. Quest.’ He held out a clipboard with the paperwork to sign. ‘Ain’t seen you before?’

‘No,’ I said, signing the form for him.

‘Dyl’n not around?’

‘No, he’s busy writing. Told me to deal with you.’

‘OK. I need key to outer gate’ouse. I’ll jus’ ge’ it.’ He walked towards the door.

‘Hold on,’ I said, trying to block his way.