Once (14 page)

Another breath as she thought of Thom, only a few feet away on the other side of the wall and unaware of what she was doing to herself, and her body shuddered helplessly as juices inside her began to flow. She rubbed herself, but only gently, unwilling to take it too far, for she had other plans. Her first finger joined its companion in stroking her vaginal lips, occasionally dipping further, feeling her swelling clitoris, collecting the slickness there so that when she withdrew they were silky wet.

She allowed the hem of her skirt to fall, then held the fingers to her nose, sniffing their scent. Her breath was heavy by now, her breasts almost heaving with barely suppressed excitement. She ran the damp fingers around her neck, between her breasts, behind her ears, smearing herself with her own secretions, for they contained pheromones,

the most natural but barely perceptible aphrodisiac. The chemicals mixed with those produced by her light perspiration, enhancing the effect. Male pheromones were generally more powerful than those of the female, but Nell was well aware of her own special allure.

Fully aroused, she reached into the kitchen’s refrigerator and took out the lemonade bottle. Quickly filling a beaker, she returned to the other room where Thom was perched uncomfortably on the very edge of the sofa, studying a wicker cat that stood on a small sideboard at the other end of the room, the animal perhaps fashioned by Nell herself. He turned his attention to her and she saw the edginess in his eyes. It broadened her smile.

‘Here, this should cool you down a little,’ she said, handing him the full beaker, the innuendo not lost on him.

He took the drink with a murmured thank you and swallowed half the contents at once.

‘I knew you were thirsty,’ she remarked as she sat next to him. Thom had to move along the sofa to make room, but even so, their knees were almost touching.

‘Aren’t you lonely there, Thom, out in the woods, all by yourself?’ she asked, leaning sideways so that her face was even closer to his, no hint of mockery or teasing in her eyes now.

A slight mustiness drifted across to him from her, a faint smell that was difficult to identify. It was not unpleasant.

‘It’s how I like it/ he replied before taking another sip of lemonade. The quietness makes a change from London and the solitude … well, it gives me space to think.’

‘Sometimes too much thought can be a bad thing. You start gettin’ inside your own head and it’s not always easy to get out again.’

It was a strange thing to say, but he thought he understood what she meant. Since the stroke and particularly in the early stages when he could only lie helpless in bed, he had often felt himself trapped inside a shell, his body no

more than a mobile container for his mind - not his brain, but his mind. His eyes were merely the portals through which his mind gazed out at the world.

‘I’ve pretty much kept myself occupied since I’ve been there.’ An understatement if ever there was one. For a brief moment he was tempted to tell her all that had happened to him since arriving back at Little Bracken, but something -that little niggling voice again - warned him not to.

“You surprise me.’ Her arm slid along the top of the sofa and, because he had leaned back, her hand brushed the nape of his neck. ‘I wouldn’t have thought there’d be anything to do there.’

Well, I’ve got regular exercises to get me fit again, and I can take long walks through the woods. In a few days’ time I intend to get back to some easy carpentry.’

‘Ah yes, the master carpenter. Hugo told me how good you are.’

This last remark gave him the opportunity to turn the conversation around. ‘Just how long have you known Hugo?’

‘A year or so. I knew of him, of course - everybody hereabouts knows of the Bracken Estate - but we’d never met until he came to me for help one day.’

When he was looking for someone to nurse Sir Russell?’

‘No. Hugo came to me because of his warts.’

What?’ Thom almost spilt his drink and Nell laughed at his expression.

‘You didn’t know he had warts on his back?’ She gave another short laugh.

Thom shook his head, wondering what Hugo’s mild affliction had to do with anything.

Tm a healer, didn’t you know? Didn’t Hugo explain that to you?’ She looked genuinely surprised.

Well, no. I just thought he’d hired you because you had some training as a nurse or carer.’

‘And so I have. I worked in a health centre in Wales before an old aunt I never knew I had died and left me this

place. I was her only living relative, so everything she possessed became mine.’

‘You’d never met her?’

‘Never met her and didn’t even know she existed. My mother had never spoken of any family, so I’d always assumed there was nobody. Imagine my surprise when I learned we shared the same vocation. She was a healer too.’

‘A nurse, you mean?’

‘A healer, Thom. A herbalist, a homeopath. Some folk around here believed she was a witch.’

Again the laughter, but her eyes were fixed on Thom’s.

He looked again at the astrological symbols painted on the brown walls, then, almost laughing at himself, at the rough broomstick leaning against a corner of the inglenook, the big black pot on the shelf inside which now, to him, resembled a cauldron.

Her laughter had stopped, and her expression was enigmatic. ‘And they think I’m one, too,’ she said.

His turn to grin. ‘In this day and age?’

‘You think there are no witches?’

‘I’ve heard of people claiming to be so. I’ve always thought it’s in their own heads. I suppose they’re harmless enough as long as nobody takes them too seriously.’

‘I won’t argue with you, Thom. But I’ve always been able to heal.’

That’s a different thing. I can accept that. But magic spells and curses? No, I’ll leave that to storytellers, the kind who write for children. What happened about the warts, by the way?’

He felt her fingers curl into the hair at the back of his neck and was aware of a slight tug as he leaned even further forward.

‘Hugo had heard about me, how I could make old country cures, potions to help the troubled body and mind.’

‘Potions? Sounds like you were carrying on your aunt’s work.’

‘I learned everything from my mother and she from her mother actually. The secret ways of the Wicca have always been known to my family even though we’ve never been accepted by those who call themselves true Wiccans.’

She caught the cynicism in his eyes and her grin made him uneasy.

‘Don’t believe in such things?’ she scorned. ‘And you from Little Bracken.’

There were all kinds of things implied in that last remark, but Thom kept quiet.

‘It has nothing to do with belief anyway,’ she went on. The Wiccan values, Thom. They value and celebrate the natural world, they have the feelin’ for magic. They also value the natural ways, cures and remedies that aren’t synthetic or chemical.’

‘But you said you’ve never been accepted by them,’ Thom interrupted.

‘Some of us like the unnatural ways.’ She laughed, a full throaty sound. He felt chilled for a moment.

Her laughter stopped abruptly and her sly charm returned. ‘I could make you feel much better, Thom, if you’d let me.’

‘I’ll stick to mild pills and therapy.’ Now he managed a smile.

“You don’t believe I can make you better?’

With herbs and potions?’ His smile broadened.

“foil don’t believe me?’

He was blunt. ‘It’s a little far-fetched.’

‘Ask Hugo about his warts. I made them disappear.’

This time he laughed. ‘My illness is just a bit more severe.’ He became serious again. ‘I still don’t understand why Hugo took you on as a nurse. Sir Russell is gravely ill and needs all the expert medical attention he can get.’

‘I told you, Sir Russell is dyin’ and the best doctors and nurses in all the world can’t alter that. That’s why Hugo

wanted my help once he’d listened to me and learned to have faith.’

It seemed as if there were two small fires in those beautifully dark eyes of hers and somehow it made her even more startling. Jet-black curls framed her face, accentuating the high cheekbones, the vivid redness of her shiny lips. Thom felt himself tense, but it was a pleasurable tenseness, the arousing kind, the kind that sent blood rushing. Somehow, and without his noticing, she had moved even closer, her legs turned towards his so that their knees touched.

Time and time again the medical profession lets us down, sometimes even killin’ us with their stupid mistakes and ignorance, so people have no choice but to look for other ways to be cured.’

He could not prevent his eyes from taking in the fullness of her breasts beneath the blouse she wore, the undone top buttons providing almost intoxicating glimpses of bare flesh. Although he was not sure if he liked this woman or not, Thom could not deny he was attracted to her.

‘I help Sir Russell with the pain. I use balms to soothe his nerves. I have my own preparations that can take the strain off his diseased old heart.’

‘When I saw him this morning he seemed pretty much drugged.’

Tm obliged to use the normal stuff on him, Thom…’ she made normal sound like a dirty word ‘… his own doctor insists on that, but I help him in other ways. Why don’t you let me help you?’

‘I told you, I need exercise, rest and the regular mild pill. It’s what the doctors have ordered.’

The finger of her left hand rested on his knee as if to make a point. He felt its light pressure, but it wasn’t localized: it seemed to spread along his thigh.

‘I thought you understood me, Thom - doctors know very little, especially when it comes to the human psyche. My kind of healing deals with mind, body and spirit.’

Now her whole hand rested on his knee. He shifted, feeling uncomfortable, but she did not take her hand away. Her other hand found the back of his neck once more, and warm fingers slid beneath his shirt collar. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it felt electric, a gentle shock that hurried its way down his spine.

‘I can calm your nerves, Thom,’ Nell said quietly and, it seemed to him, sincerely. ‘I can cure whatever ails you, those headaches …’ her hand left his leg to touch his brow and her fingertips did feel wonderfully soothing ‘… I can give your leg strength again…’ she must have noticed his limp and inward-turning left foot when he carried her bicycle to the Jeep ‘… make your arm strong again …” obviously she had noticed how he’d favoured his left arm when he’d lifted the bike ‘… and I can cleanse your spirit, Thom, I can make you feel safe inside your home …’

‘What?’ He took her hand away from his forehead, not forcefully, but firmly enough to make the message clear. ‘Why shouldn’t I feel safe there?’

She straightened and he thought he saw regret in her eyes, as though she blamed herself for breaking the mood.

You haven’t realized there’s something wrong inside Little Bracken?’ She regarded him with genuine curiosity.

‘It’s my home. There’s nothing wrong with it.’

Then how did that plate fly across the room and smash itself on the floor?’

‘A wind came through the door. The door was open, remember?’

‘I didn’t feel any wind.’ If she was annoyed, she did not show it. Rather, she spoke in sympathetic tones, as if concerned that he could not see the truth of it for himself.

We were preoccupied at the time.’

At least she smiled as she remembered. She argued her point though. ‘I’ve felt it before, each time I’ve visited.’

You’ve been inside Little Bracken before I came back?’

‘Only twice. Hugo asked me to dust and clean the place

for your return. I stocked your cupboards and fridge the second time. That was when I sensed something bad there.’

‘In a cottage that had been empty for years?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t believe in that kind of stuff, and neither should you.’

“Why not? It’s not uncommon for some places to have their own moods or atmospheres, ‘specially if somethin’ bad has happened in them. I don’t think Little Bracken likes people.’

He could not help his wry grin.

‘It’s true, Thom. How did you feel inside the mansion today? Didn’t you sense its misery?’

‘Sir Russell is dying there. Anyone who knows that is bound to feel something is wrong.’

‘It’s much more than that. Every room feels wretched. But I’m worried about you, Thom.’

Again her fingers nestled in the hair at the back of his neck, while her other hand rested on his thigh. He felt its heat through the tough material of his jeans.

He did not resist. Why should he? But he did delay.

“Why … why would you be worried about me?’

‘Because you’re alone there.’

There’s nothing wrong with the place.’

‘Oh, but there is …’

Nell was not one to be diverted. She pressed her lips against his.

Now Thom did resist, but only feebly. His mind was full of questions: What was the matter with Little Bracken? And so what if he were alone - what could harm him? And why was she so keen to seduce him? And why the hell was he playing so hard to get?

He suddenly matched her pressure, kissing Nell hard, his lips moistened by hers, her tongue darting between his teeth, seeking his. He felt her hand against his neck, drawing him forward so that their kiss became almost painful; he felt her other hand move on his thigh, travelling further as if she

knew of his swelling, and was eager to touch. His own hand found the bare flesh of her arm and her skin was firm but so smooth. He smelled her odd muskiness and somehow it roused his passion even more. Her fingers moved to the top button of his jeans, pushing against the rise beneath them, skilfully pressing against it, arousing him even more. Even with his mouth hard against hers, he drew in a short sharp breath - her breath - as the button was released. He gave out a murmur…

And felt a tingling vibration against his thigh.

He was confused for a moment, the rising passion stalled. The vibration again, like a tiny and painless electric shock, stronger this time. And then the sound and the understanding came together. His cell phone, a Motorola that was small enough to tuck into his trouser pocket without feeling a dragging weight. Then its ringing tone began.