Ravens Deep (one) (13 page)

             
“I want to see you too,” I said feeling a fluttering sensation in my stomach. It was not just the fact that Darius was watching me, there was something on the tip of my tongue. It was now or never. I had to ask the question.

             
“Do you ever go out during the day?  I only see you at night.” Darius pupils dilated suddenly, he was unexpectedly tense as if uncertain how I was going to react.

             
“I avoid the daylight, I have a condition called Porphyria. I am allergic to the sun,” he said. “It causes a severe reaction in my blood, even in low levels of sunlight.”

             
I was stunned, I hadn’t really expected an answer like that.

             
“That’s terrible Darius,” I began, not knowing what to say.  But I didn’t want him to think that it bothered me.  “I was beginning to let my imagination get the better of me, believing that you may be a ghost,” I concluded cordially. There was a moment of coldness in his eyes. “There are worse things than being dead, Madeline.” I felt a little unnerved and not sure how to take that remark or his look.  I wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking, and I decided to ignore his last words, I knew having a condition like that must be hard for him.

             
“So what does that really mean, do you never go out at all during the day? What about when it’s overcast?” It was a sad thought that he could never know the beauty of the world around him in the sunlight.

             
“No, during the day even low levels of light can cause my skin to blister. Do not look concerned, Madeline, I have adapted to live my life to deal with my condition.”  I looked down at his hand, his perfect white skin. I could not imagine it disfigured with blisters. Darius stood up and I followed. Drawing my hand to his lips he said,

“Maybe one day, you will know all my secrets.”

             
“When you are ready to tell me, Darius, I will be here,” I answered, and wished he wouldn’t leave. I wanted him to kiss me properly, but all too quickly we were standing at the front door.  Darius turned to me and smiled, all earlier coldness had vanished.

             
“Until tomorrow, Madeline.” Releasing my hand, he disappeared into the blackness of the night.

Chapter Nine - First Lamentation

             
Darius’s tale was replaying in my head as I set the mousetraps for the night. I thought that these mice were either getting smarter, or I was setting the traps incorrectly, as each morning all four traps were sprung, but there was never a body to be found.  Then again the thought crossed my mind:

             
Maybe the ghost caused the traps to spring.

             
In my bedroom, the familiar presence was apparent, and I was slowly growing accustomed to the unearthly feeling that came and went, but tonight, more than any other, I was chilled by it. 

             
I shouldn’t have been so insistent that Darius tell me the stories of Ravens Deep.

             
Now, I felt scared and haunted as I lay in bed with thoughts of opium and murder going through my mind and speculated if Theo had been murdered in this very bed.  Uneasiness swept through me, but I had slept here peacefully on previous nights, it was just tonight I was allowing my imagination to take control.  I felt reassured that everything Darius had told me had happened over a century ago.

             
This is probably a different bed anyway.

             
But in the back of my mind, I knew, this furniture was just as ancient as the house. I fell into an uneasy sleep and I was tormented by disturbing dreams. Tortured corpses rose up to haunt me and somewhere amongst it all Darius figured greatly.  I suddenly jumped and awoke from my nightmare, my heart was beating fast.  A combination of my disturbing dream, and a sound from below. A muffled snap and then another.

             
Those damn mice!

             
I eventually fell into another fitful sleep and didn’t remember anymore until I was aware of sunlight pouring into the room. The curtains were open, I had forgotten to close them the night before and I sleepily looked around me. It was hard to believe anything evil could have ever taken place here. In the light of day Ravens Deep was as beautiful and tranquil as ever, and outside it was promising to be another perfect day with not a single cloud in the sky.

             
A little later I walked outside, dismissing my previous thought of continuing with my book because the garden lured me into its rambling and secluded corners, where I delighted in the discovery of an old-fashioned rose bush.  The sweet fragrance enticed me further and I felt dismay that it was hidden from view, I worked to free the rose from the long tendrils of ivy, then I decided to clear the tangled weeds from the base of the stone walls.  Maybe, I would discover how the mice were getting inside. Besides, Mr. Chambers had been kind enough to loan me his house, the least I could do was maintain the garden a little.

             
Previously I had noticed a small structure in the back garden, similar to a potting shed.  I made my way to it and opened the door.  It was virtually empty apart from a few rusty old tools.

             
These will have to do.

             
Enthusiastically, I cleared the tallest weeds away from the foundations, pruning back the overgrown roses and working my way steadily round to the side of the house.  The ivy had climbed the entire stone wall and I cleared the weeds from underneath and started to trim the ivy back.  It had grown clinging to everything in sight and cascaded downwards to form a thick curtain. After trimming years of growth, I found myself staring at a wooden wall. I pulled aside the curtain of ivy to reveal, not a wall, but a solid wooden door. I was astonished at my discovery.

             
What is a door doing in the side of a chimney breast?

             
My eyes moved upwards and I wondered if it were a surviving remnant that connected the current house to the part that had been destroyed many years ago.  I saw a black metal keyhole with matching latch which I attempted to lift, but it was solid and impossible to move, well and truly locked.  I let the ivy to swing back into its original position and stood back, speculating exactly what was behind the door. 

             
The library wall should be on the other side.
 

             
I judged the distance from where I stood to the window and realized that there could be a room, a cellar perhaps, or maybe a staircase or a secret passage.  I gazed over the entire wall and I could see that the bedroom where I slept was located directly above the library, and felt intrigue, I wanted to know what lay behind that door and I went back inside and to the library. Apart from the actual chimney breast, bookcases lined the entire wall.  There was no way to tell if a hollow space was hidden behind the cases. I was disappointed to not be able to discover any hidden passage from this room, but I went upstairs to my bedroom and to the wall that ran behind the dressing table.  I knocked gently. A constant solid sound emanated back at me until I reached behind the dressing table, where it changed to a soft hollow sound.  I stepped back.

             
A
hidden room or just attic space? 

             
My eyes were drawn to the small recess in the wall, which I had supposed held a candle many years ago.  I examined it again, this time more closely, but just as before, there was complete darkness. It was most likely just attic space. I could not see or feel any evidence of a bricked up doorway, and I ran my hands lightly over the wallpaper to be certain, but there was nothing to reveal that there had ever been a way through. 

             
The wardrobe stood in front of part of this wall, but it was so heavy and appeared to be firmly fixed in place. I couldn’t even move it an inch and I concluded that if there had been a way through it could have been behind this wardrobe, but it was unlikely I would ever know for sure.  It was just another perplexing mystery at Ravens Deep.

             
I resolved to ask Darius about the door, maybe he knew the explanation.  I put the tools back in the potting shed and left the garden to its own devices. I had to go into the village and buy some supplies.  In recent days I had been so preoccupied with my writing, Darius, and the mysteries of Ravens Deep that I had thought about little else, even food, and the cupboards were virtually bare. 

             
I really should take better care of myself and eat a proper meal.

             
Leaving Ravens Deep, it seemed as though the lane had grown narrower still, as my car was once again enshrouded by the hedgerows. As I passed the driveway to Ravens Farm, an unfamiliar white shape lying to the side of the cobbles caught my attention.  I stopped the car and got out. I walked closer and soon saw that it was a dead sheep, and wondered why the farmer had left it here.  It did appear to have a small amount of dried blood soiling its white coat, which suggested that it had been attacked by something. But what?  A fox maybe, but that was the second dead sheep in as many days.

             
“These things happen,” I told myself. “All part of country life.”

             
 
After all, this sheep was probably destined for someone’s dinner plate anyway.  

             
I tried to make myself feel better about the discovery. I didn’t know what to do as I could not lift the dead animal.  I returned to my car, determined to dislodge the image from my mind and think about more pleasant things.

             
I continued on to the village of Beaconmayes and was mildly surprised at the amount of traffic.  I wondered if it was market day or if some local event was happening.  It took several minutes to find a space to even stop, but I eventually parked the car and walked to the small grocery store. After selecting several items I placed them on the counter and smiled warmly at the woman who was packing my groceries into a plastic bag.

             
“Is there something happening in the village today?” I inquired. “There seems to be a considerable amount of traffic around.”

             
“That’ll be the funeral procession, quite a turn out too.”  She spoke with a thick West Country accent. “That’ll be ten pounds and twenty-two pence please.”

             
“Oh, who died?” I asked.  My question was more out of politeness than interest, since I didn’t’t know anyone here.

             
“Samuel Dunklin.” The woman held out her hand for the money I had been counting, but I stopped counting and froze. An odd shiver ran through me.

             
“You mean the old man Samuel Dunklin?” I asked.

             
“There was only one that I know of.  He’ll be sadly missed, one of me regulars he was.  Did you know him?” she inquired.

             
“No . . .” I hesitated.  “Well yes, I met him only a couple of days ago. What happened to him?”  I asked still reeling from the shock. The woman handed the bag of groceries to me.

             
“I am not really sure, he died sort of . . . sudden like.”

             
“And they are burying him already?” I asked incredulously.

             
“Yes,” she continued, “I think it’s the family.  Some people are heartless.  Want to burn him up before he’s even properly cold,” she concluded, shaking her head.             

             
“They are allowed to do that?  What about an inquest?”  She looked at me knowingly.

             
“They don’t much bother with things like that out here, too remote. Unless it was a murder of course.  We pretty much take care of our own out here.”  I took my bag of groceries and left the shop in stunned silence, wondering what year I was living in.  I knew this place was remote, but this was positively behind the times. 

             
Samuel Dunklin had been fine when I had spoken to him, he hadn’t seemed sick or really that old, come to think of it.  I was also very much aware that he had been the only person I had so much as spoken to since arriving on Exmoor, apart from Darius of course. Now Samuel was dead.

             
I did not feel like going back to Ravens Deep so soon.  Instead I drove through the village with Samuel in my thoughts. As I drove passed the old Beaconmayes church, I could see the congregation of people milling around the graveyard and I felt deeply saddened by the sight. In a few days I would go and pay my final respects to him. I was sure his ashes would remain in that churchyard.

             
As I reached the end of the village, I noticed a sign-post: Selman Point. The sign brought to mind Samuel’s recommendation.  Now, out of respect and sadness for the man who was gone so suddenly, I turned the car towards the sign.