Freya's Quest (30 page)

Suddenly, the false door in the bookcase swung open and Dylan stepped into the room.

Veronica stood still, her body beginning to shake, which made the poker quiver in front of her. Then she dropped it on the floor and tried to make out as if nothing had happened.

But Dylan had evidently overheard everything Veronica had said, from his hiding place behind the mirror. His face revealed his inability to understand why Veronica hadn’t told him the real truth before. Why she had allowed him to suffer for seventeen long years in the belief he was to blame for Seraphina’s death.

I walked over to Dylan in an effort to comfort him.

Veronica saw the strained and horrified expression on his face. She knew it was all over.

He rushed towards her. He gripped her by the blouse, tearing the fabric as he pushed her against the wall.

‘Why! Why!….Why!’ he screamed.

It was the first time I’d witnessed his tears flowing.

‘I want you out of my life for good! And Janis’s and E-J’s. You disgust me! I never want to see you again. Pack your bags and leave here. Leave the mill. And leave me alone!’

‘But Dylan….Dylan!….Please….’

‘Get the hell out of here!’

Dylan hounded Veronica out to her car. I hung onto Dylan’s arm in an attempt to stop him from venting his rage further.

We watched the Hillman career off.

Then I returned with Dylan to the hallway. As we arrived there, I was stung on my face by a swipe from the back of his hand.

I fell to the floor, holding my throbbing cheek.

‘Look what you’ve done, you bitch! Why did you have to come here?! Why did you have to meddle in my affairs?!

I cowered at his feet, still stunned from his blow. He’d turned his violence on me. I knew this had to be the end.

‘What do I know of your background, now you’ve delved so deeply into mine? Absolutely nothing!’

‘Well, whose fault’s that? Not mine. Once you’d got into my knickers you weren’t too interested in the back-history.’

Dylan scowled at my cheap gibe. ‘Who sent you to haunt me so?’

‘Sera’s old boyfriend – John.’

‘What
are
you on about? You’ve got that wrong. I’ve remembered his name now. It was Fairfax….Joshua Fairfax.’

But his puzzled expression soon turned to one more pensive, as if something was beginning to click within his creative mind.

I shook my head, confused, mumbling ‘Fairfax? Fairfax?’ under my breath. ‘John sent me here. John Jones!’

‘Now hang on a minute – that’s me! The old me!’

And a look of abject terror swept across his face and he hurried out of the house.

BUT I HADN’T gone outside at all!

Instead, I found myself alone in front of my word processor. I looked around me, caught up in the reality of what I’d tried to disguise in my imagination. My surroundings were familiar. Papers were strewn all around the tower room.

I pulled myself out of my chair, stiff-limbed and aching. I found the door, opened it and walked slowly down the spiral staircase. The Lodge was full of dust. It hadn’t been cleaned for weeks. And the building was freezing. The oil to fire the central-heating boilers had dried up long ago.

I became aware of the awful stench emanating from the kitchen. I went inside. Dirty dishes overflowed in the sink. Tins had been left opened and only half eaten. Food was rotting at the foot of the open fridge door.

I walked out of the house. The front door had been left wide open to the ravages of the elements. The hallway was flooded.

The manicured lawns were beginning to overgrow. I turned back to regard my house. All the shutters were drawn over the windows. Only those in the tower remained open.

I scratched my face in bewilderment. It took me a few seconds to notice I’d grown a beard.

Time had moved on. Yet I could remember nothing.

Then I saw Freya, skipping over the main lawn, laughing.

This cheered my mood.

I followed her over the long grass and into the woods. I could hear her ahead. I fought my way through the undergrowth to the yew-tree tunnel, oblivious to the burrs and thorns that bit into my legs. Suddenly I realized I was naked.

Pushing my way frantically through the creepers, I came upon the old folly. I hadn’t been here in years. Not since that first time with Emily. I couldn’t bear the memory of what I had done to her. I would have retreated had I not heard Freya’s soft voice inviting me inside.

I steadied myself, then cautiously entered. Freya stood in front of me, staring at me forlornly. Then I watched her float up into the dome of the ceiling, back whence she had come.

Once again, she became the long-blonde-haired nymph in Sera’s exquisite painting.

Now it was Sera’s tears I was hearing down the ages, tears she’d shed whilst executing the picture. I turned to her self-portrait, the jet-black-haired maiden being ravished by the Devil. Her head seemed to move, her wild eyes taunting me.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I came to an ultimate realization.

I fought my way back to the courtyard and stumbled over to the old stabling block. I opened the wooden door. Light flooded into the gloomy interior.

And there was Sera’s old Fiat 500. A large film of dust covered the tiny car now. All four tyres were flat. It had not been touched since it’d been stored there years before. I rubbed the dust off the window. Sera’s old school uniform still lay on the back seat, where she’d discarded it on our journey to a new life in Wales that, as it turned out, was never to be.

All the characters I’d written about – except Freya – had existed in my life, yet they’d been involved in a novel of my own making. And the text saved on my computer upstairs must surely be my last novel!

Freya was as mythical as her name. Sera’s angel.

Come back to claim me from my manic flurry of literary endeavour and sexual pursuits that my defences had sustained for so many empty years.

Sexual promiscuity had been such a lonely experience. Mechanical fornication, not genuine lovemaking. Even my longer-term lovers had eventually left me. Even they hadn’t been able to overcome my sickness.

And it was a sickness. I was aware of that now.

And I’d driven all my friends and lovers away because of it.

Janis and Emily were not Sera. Nor were all the others I’d conquered. Yet every one of those women had taken on Seraphina’s guise when I’d seduced them.

Every one.

But what had I done to them all in the process?!

There’d only ever been one woman for me.

Sera….

Seraph….

Seraphina!

I had to go to her now.

I ran down to the outer gatehouse and picked up the tools I required for the task in hand. Then I made my way across the lawns and battled through the undergrowth to the ruined chapel. The place not visited in so many years.

It must have taken me the whole of the afternoon and evening to dig down into the solid earth. The earth which had remained undisturbed through the seventeen years since Sera had been laid to rest. When my spade hit the lid of the coffin, I was suddenly aware that the sunlight had changed to moonlight.

Once uncovered, the decayed wood fell apart in ruins around my beloved Seraphina.

Then I saw her again.

I’d waited for this moment for so long.

I gazed down upon her beautiful form. She was unclothed, her breasts half-hidden under the silken blanket of her cascading jet-black hair. The dark area at the confluence of her milk-white thighs looked so inviting.

I descended onto her to possess her again at last.

But I felt her ribcage crumbling to dust under my weight.

Something was terribly wrong!

I stared in horror at the whiteness of her skeleton. The sunken voids of her eye sockets looked sadly up at me. Much of her hair was still in evidence, around the skull that had caved in when she’d struck the rocks below Castle Crag all those years ago.

And I screamed!

THE TAXI PULLED up in the forecourt of the old mill. Janis and her daughter climbed out. Rupert, smiling benevolently, approached them as Janis paid the driver.

She turned to greet him and he stretched out his large hand for her to shake. ‘You’re a little late. Come inside.’

‘Sorry. My flight was delayed. And I had to collect E-J from school on the way up from London. Anyway, I’m here now.’

She had been given Dylan’s power of attorney. She’d agonized over what to do with the museum and had gone through a number of failed managers whilst trying to sell the attraction. In the end, it hadn’t sold and she’d taken a risk on Rupert. He had come out of a disastrous marriage to Lady Jennifer MacAlistair and several rehabs and had wanted space away from the City. Looking around at all the parked cars and the many visitors, she was pleased with its success and the decisions she had made. It looked like it had done Rupert good, too.

As they walked past the garages, a number of the mechanics and bodywork specialists came out to greet her, staff Rupert had managed to retain. They all seemed pleased to see her after all this time.

After several minutes of re-acquaintance, Rupert led Janis and her daughter into the old mill-owner’s house. Janis was taken aback by how different the lounge looked. Rupert had made the place his own, even finding space for a grand piano. All of Dylan’s possessions had gone.

Janis was expecting Quasi to come bouncing out to greet them. Then she remembered he’d died here at the mill, pining for his master, only months after Dylan had left.

E-J sat down very calmly and politely. She had grown up a lot in these past few years, Janis thought. She had dyed her long hair blonde, and was a lot taller and more mature. Boarding school had given her independence, and a good set of boundaries for her behaviour which Janis had found so difficult to instil. Not having her around all the time had eased Janis’s stress levels and had helped make the holidays so much more special as well. Janis had also worked hard on her parenting skills. She was proud that physical chastisement was no longer a feature of their relationship.

Rupert brought in a tray of tea. E-J offered to pour it out for everyone and he let her do this.

‘So, do you want to see the books?’

‘No. I trust everything’s in order.’

He smiled. ‘What are your plans now?’

‘I think I’m coming home for good.’

‘That’s great.’

‘I’m not too sure what I’m going to do yet. I’ve got enough to retire on. My partners and I struck a big deal. The schools in Chamonix, Snowdonia and my original one here are now all under new ownership.’

‘Do I detect mixed feelings?’

‘Yes. I was happy in Chamonix. I have many friends out there. And winter mountaineering is my real forte. I might be ready for some new Himalayan expeditions. My only responsibility now is to E-J. She’s got to be my priority. So maybe I’m dreaming.’

‘Look, Mum,’ E-J said. ‘Don’t let me stop you. I’m happy at my school. I don’t need you as much as I used to. If you really want to do it, go for it! Life’s too short.’

This brought a tear to Janis’s eye and she hugged her daughter.

Janis and Rupert spent the next fifteen minutes talking about the museum. Then he gave them a tour around the complex, after which he halted at some garages.

‘We’ve got a little surprise for you,’ Rupert said, pointing to Janis’s old Citroën, now completely restored.

Janis ran her hand along the wing, opened the door and sat back in the driver’s seat. ‘It’s lovely. You’ve done a splendid job. I need something of old to help ground me back here.’