The Ghost Fields (Ruth Galloway) (17 page)

‘I’ve been digging,’ she says. ‘But I haven’t found anything conclusive.’

‘What about the Bronze Age site?’ asks Hazel. ‘Have you found anything there?’

‘No,’ says Ruth. ‘It’s a puzzle. We were so sure it was a large burial site but so far we’ve only found one body.’

Cathbad and Hazel start talking about the site – about burial rituals and druidical practices and the perils of disturbing the dead. Ruth goes to the window. She wants to check on the weather. She gets out her phone. No signal. She remembers this from the day of the excavation. It adds to her growing sense of panic. If the wind gets much worse, she’ll head home, even if she hasn’t had the chance of that chat with Frank.

She pulls aside the rather mildewed velvet curtains. The library faces east, towards the marshes. Ruth expects to see windswept grass and a stormy sky. Instead she sees a figure standing stock-still in front of the house, staring up at the windows. It’s the man from the church. How the hell did he get here? There were no other cars in the car park. Did he walk? But it’s at least five miles from the church. The man doesn’t look as if he has just arrived either. In fact he looks as if he’s been standing there for ever, leaning on his staff, the wind blowing his hair and beard.

Ruth is suddenly aware that Blake Goodheart is standing beside her.

‘It is an ancient Mariner,’ he quotes. ‘And he stoppeth one of three. “By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp’st thou me?”’

CHAPTER 15

Ruth heads for the drawing room, intending to find Sally, say goodbye and thank you, and beat a hasty retreat. But before she can get there, a figure drifts out of one of the downstairs rooms. Nell.

‘Doctor Galloway?’ she says. ‘Have you got a few minutes?’

Ruth has time for anyone who uses her proper title. ‘Yes,’ she says.

Nell leads her to a seat in the hall, a sort of church pew with wooden back and tapestry cushions. It feels like an oddly clandestine place to meet.

‘It was so sweet of you to bring me Daddy’s photograph, Doctor Galloway. I’m very grateful.’

Ruth makes self-deprecating noises. Nell leans forward. She has blue eyes, as blue as Frank’s.

‘I believe you were the one who actually found my father’s body.’

‘Well, it was the digger driver who found the plane,’ says Ruth. ‘I was just called in when they saw that there was a body inside.’

‘From something Cassie said, though, I gather that you think Daddy wasn’t the pilot of the plane. That his body was put there on purpose, some years later.’

Chaz and Cassandra have been talking, thinks Ruth. Didn’t Blake say that earlier? She wonders how much she should tell Nell. Should she voice her suspicions about the pets’ burial ground? But it will take weeks to get the samples back from the lab and even then they might be inconclusive. On the other hand, doesn’t Nell deserve to know the truth about her father, whatever that truth is?

‘I’m pretty sure that your father’s body hadn’t been in the plane all those years,’ she says at last. ‘The preservation of the body . . .’ She pauses, not wanting to go into too much detail. ‘The preservation was more consistent with bodies found in marshy soil, not in chalk.’

Nell’s blue eyes are wide. ‘So you think his body was buried somewhere else and then put in the plane?’

Ruth admires Nell’s succinct summing-up. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Though I can’t be sure where the body was buried originally.’

‘But you’ve been digging in the grounds of Blackstock Hall?’

‘Yes.’ There’s no point in denying it. Presumably everyone in the family knows by now.

Nell looks out towards the front door, a massive oak affair slatted with metal. She says, almost to herself, ‘But why would someone bury him here and then dig him up, years later?’

‘I don’t know,’ says Ruth. ‘That’s the problem with archaeology. It always raises more questions than it answers.’

Nell is about to speak when someone calls her name. Blake is hurrying down the corridor towards them.

‘I have literally lost all feeling in my extremities,’ he tells Nell.

Ruth excuses herself and goes into the drawing room in search of Sally. Rather to her discomfort, she finds her hostess deep in conversation with Nelson, her hand on his arm. There’s no sign of Cassandra or the TV crew. Old George sits by the fire surrounded by people who could be described as ‘awful arty types’, who are hanging on his every gloomy pronouncement. Chaz and his father, Young George, stand by the window, looking like stags at bay.

‘Ruth!’ Sally sounds delighted to see her. ‘I was just talking about you.’

Ruth looks at Nelson, who gives her a rather sardonic smile.

‘I was saying that we should do a proper dig in the grounds,’ says Sally. ‘There must be all sorts buried there. After all, this house has been here since Tudor times. We could see if we could get
Time Team
interested.’

Sally’s involvement with the American TV company seems to have gone to her head. Ruth does agree, though, that there might be some interesting finds in the grounds. ‘There might even be prehistory,’ she says. ‘After all, the house is quite near the Bronze Age burial site.’

Cathbad and Hazel have also found their way to the drawing room and are in the process of topping up their glasses. Ruth has noticed before that Cathbad, while claiming to embrace only the simple things of life, has quite a taste for champagne. At this last remark of Ruth’s, they both head towards her.

‘Do you really think there might be a burial site here, Ruth?’ asks Cathbad.

‘Well, it’s possible,’ says Ruth, rather flustered to discover that she has an audience. Chaz and his father have also now joined the circle.

‘If we find something, it might stop the development on Devil’s Hollow,’ says Chaz excitedly.

‘It’s a nightmare,’ says Hazel. ‘I was there yesterday and three houses are almost up.’

‘I know,’ says Chaz. ‘It’s going really fast.’

‘Edward Spens is power mad,’ says Cathbad.

‘He’s a property developer,’ says Nelson. ‘He develops property. What do you expect him to do? After all, you sold him the land, didn’t you?’

He addresses this last question to Young George, who looks down and mutters something about needing the money.

‘We wouldn’t have sold it if we didn’t have to,’ says Sally with spirit. ‘George is passionate about keeping the estate intact for future generations.’

‘Does that mean you?’ Nelson asks Chaz.

There is a pause before Sally says, ‘Actually, Cassie is heir to the estate. It seemed fairer, as she’s the eldest. It involved quite a lot of faff, though, getting the entail changed so she could inherit. But George is all for equality.’ She looks fondly at her husband.

‘Of course,’ says Blake, who has also joined the group, ‘if that had been done years ago, Nell would have inherited the place, not George.’

There’s a silence. Nell appears at her husband’s side. ‘Talking about me? Hope it’s something nice.’

‘I should go,’ says Ruth.

In the hallway, she extricates her anorak from the curly coat stand, thinking that a whole lot of family skeletons are coming to the surface this evening. All in all, she’s happy to be leaving. Frank is obviously having a lovely time with the beautiful Cassandra and hasn’t given her a second glance. She wonders briefly what has happened to the bearded man, the Ancient Mariner. Is he still out there, staring up at the house? She shivers and puts on her coat. At least it’s only a short drive home.

But as she approaches the front door, it opens, bringing a blast of wind strong enough to make her step backwards. Frank stands on the threshold, coatless, his hair wild.

‘Ruth! Are you going?’

‘Yes, I’ve got to get back to Kate.’

‘It’s only five o’clock.’

‘But it’s already dark,’ says Ruth, ‘and there’s a storm coming.’

‘Cathbad says the storm won’t break until midnight,’ says Frank.

Ruth doesn’t ask why Frank has suddenly started believing (and quoting) Cathbad’s weather forecasts. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she says.

‘Just stay for a few minutes,’ says Frank. ‘I’ve hardly spoken to you.’ He draws her towards the church pew in the hallway. They sit side by side; it feels a lot cosier than it did with Nell.

‘Where’s Cassandra?’ asks Ruth.

Frank grins. ‘In the grounds. She’s showing Earl and Paul the best places to shoot tomorrow. It was a bit cold for me so I came back. Plus I’ve got a low tolerance for acting talk.’

‘Cassandra’s an actress, I understand.’

‘She is indeed. I think I’ve had the whole of her résumé tonight.’

Ruth wonders why Frank is complaining. After all, he’s the one who likes the company of young women. Then she jumps because Frank puts his hand on hers, ‘Ruth. Why didn’t you come and see me in Seattle?’

Ruth tries to move her hand away. ‘It was difficult,’ she says. ‘With Kate and everything.’

‘I would have been delighted to see Kate too,’ says Frank. ‘You know I would.’

‘Why do you care?’ says Ruth, trying to make her voice sound light. ‘Paul tells me you’re dating his kid sister.’ She tries and fails not to put ironical quotation marks around the words.

Frank leans back. ‘Ruth . . .’ he says.

But Ruth is never to learn what Frank was going to say because, at that moment, Clough bursts in through the front door, carrying Cassandra in his arms.

‘She’s been attacked,’ he says.

CHAPTER 16

Nelson is furious with Clough. Why did he have to come barging in like that, making the whole thing into such a drama? On the other hand, it was lucky that he’d been on hand to come to Cassandra’s rescue. Nelson had sent Tim home (he was keen to get to the gym and there didn’t seem any point in having the three of them hanging around) but he was pleased that he and Clough had stayed. Even though he had no reason to suspect that anything would happen at the party, he has still been on the alert. That was why he had sent Clough out to patrol the grounds, in the face of his sergeant’s extreme reluctance. He hadn’t expected Clough to have to fight off a violent attacker. If that was indeed what he had done.

Nelson had come to the door of the drawing room just in time to see Clough striding through the hall with the girl in his arms. For some reason, Ruth was there too, squashed up on a little seat with her American friend. The sight did not do much to soothe Nelson’s feelings.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ he said.

‘It’s Cassandra, boss,’ said Clough. ‘Somebody leapt on her in the graveyard.’

‘Bring her in here,’ said Nelson.

Clough had brought Cassandra into the drawing room and laid her on the sofa. Nelson saw that her hair was matted at the temples and that there was blood on Clough’s jacket and on the pale-lemon sofa. He called an ambulance as Sally came running to her daughter’s side.

‘Darling! What’s happened?’

‘I was walking across the field,’ said Cassandra, her voice high and shaky, ‘where the old gravestones are. I stopped because I had a text on my phone. You can’t get a signal up at the house and I wanted to answer. The next thing I knew, someone had hit me over the head. He . . .’ she pointed at Clough, ‘he saved my life.’

Clough coughed modestly. ‘Just doing my job.’

Sally sent someone (her son, Nelson thought) running to get water and bandages. The father was there now too, standing around rather ineffectually and patting his daughter’s hand.

Nelson turned to Clough. ‘Did you see the assailant?’

‘No. I was just walking the perimeter of the grounds when I heard a shout. I came running and Cassandra was on the ground. She said that someone had leapt on her from behind. I had a quick look around but couldn’t see the attacker. Then I thought my priority was to get Cassandra to safety.’

‘He picked me up like I weighed nothing,’ said Cassandra.

Chaz brought a bowl and some bandages, Sally tenderly wiped her daughter’s forehead as Nelson became aware that the room was suddenly full of people. Old George was there and the American couple. Looking round he saw Ruth and the TV bloke, Frank, standing by the door, both looking very shaken.