The Silent Touch of Shadows (37 page)

A few days later she forgot all about Roger, however, as something even more momentous occurred, something which occupied her mind to the exclusion of all else.

‘No, it can’t be!’ Melissa shook the little container as if that would make it change its mind. The line on the indicator remained stubbornly blue. Shocked, she sank down onto the closed toilet seat. It would seem Jolie would have her wish after all.

How could this have happened?
They’d been so careful.
Except for that first time
 
…
Melissa knew that was all it took. After all, this wasn’t the first time she’d been in this situation. ‘Damn, you’d think I would have learned my lesson then,’ she muttered.

‘Lord, I must be the most fertile woman on earth.’ She glared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Melissa Grantham, you are a first-class idiot. Stupid, stupid, idiot.’

Jake would probably be delighted, and so would everyone else. Except her. Not that she didn’t want more children, but this one hadn’t been conceived under what she would call normal circumstances. What sort of child resulted from a union between a human and a ghost? A slightly hysterical laugh escaped her.

‘Get a grip, woman,’ she admonished the face in the mirror sternly. Ghosts could no more create children than they could come alive again. This was Jake’s child, and no one else’s. She lowered her face into her hands and tried to massage away the tension building steadily inside her temples.

‘So what do I do now?’ She thought she felt a caress at the nape of her neck and shrugged it away. If Roger was trying to pacify her now, he was too late. This was all his fault and she’d had enough.

If only she could solve the mystery. If only she could make Roger go away. But she had tried everything she could possibly think of
 
… or had she?

‘No, wait,’ she exclaimed. She gritted her teeth in determination. There was one thing she hadn’t tried yet.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

‘Sibell, my love, you are a sight for sore eyes.’

‘You’re back!’ Sibell was startled to find Roger outside Ashleigh Manor’s front door in full daylight and alone, but since she was overjoyed to see him again, she forgot everything except the here and now. She flew into his arms with a little shriek.

‘Indeed I am and with excellent news. I’ve been acknowledged by Sir Gilbert and have come to formally ask for your hand in marriage.’

‘Sir Gilbert is definitely your father? And he’s agreed to tell everyone?’ At his nod, she laughed and kissed him. Happiness bubbled up inside her as he kissed her back with the pent-up passion of many weeks and for a while they both forgot his errand in their blissful reunion.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ The sneering voice of Simon intruded on their idyll. He sauntered up to the couple with his arms crossed over his chest aggressively, closely followed by his younger brother Edmund, who wasn’t slow to add his comments.

‘Well, well, if it isn’t the whoreson of Langford making free with our sister. What do you think of that, brother?’

Roger froze and cursed under his breath. Sibell’s heart disappeared into her throat and she swallowed convulsively. They shouldn’t have been so careless, but in truth, the sight of Roger after such a long time had obliterated every other thought. When he was near she couldn’t think rationally.

‘I have come to ask for your sister’s hand in marriage,’ Roger informed the brothers stiffly, looking from one disbelieving face to the other. They quickly recovered from the shock and burst into loud guffaws of laughter.

‘Marriage? To you? That’s rich, upon my word.’

Sibell stamped her foot. ‘Stop it, the pair of you! He’s come to see Father, not you. Leave him alone.’

‘Oooh, the little cat shows her claws.’ Simon’s childish jeer made her even more furious and she was on the verge of boxing his ear.

‘Very well, this way, sir. I’m sure our father will be very interested in hearing what you have to say.’ Edmund made their guest an elaborate bow and indicated the way into the hall. Roger managed a reassuring look at Sibell before marching past the brothers with his head held high. Into the lion’s den.

Simon fixed Sibell with an angry glare. ‘As for you, go away and leave this to us. It’s men’s business. I’m sure Father will call for you if you are needed.’

With a smirk he followed his brother and Sibell stood looking after him, seething with anger and nerves, but unsure what to do about it. Oh, if only she had been a man
 
… Well, she’d be damned if she was going anywhere. She had a right to be present, too.

Exorcism
was an ugly word. It conjured up images of angry demons, of people possessed by the devil and of evil practices. It made Melissa feel sick to the stomach, but she couldn’t see any other way. There was simply no alternative. Once her decision had been made, she went in search of Dorothy immediately.

The old lady was doubtful at first. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this? It sounds a bit drastic, you know.’ It took all Melissa’s powers of persuasion to make her great-aunt understand that this course of action was necessary.

‘I just can’t go on like this, Dorothy,’ she told the older woman, ‘and you have to admit I’ve tried everything else. It’s driving me insane.’

‘Yes, I suppose so, but
 
…’ Dorothy shook her head sadly. ‘I just have this feeling it will do more harm than good, but on the other hand I hate to see you suffer. It’s been so nice to have you and Jolie living here, I couldn’t bear it if you left now.’

Melissa hugged the old lady and reassured her. ‘Of course we won’t leave. We love it here.’ Ashleigh felt like home now and Melissa knew it always would. ‘But I refuse to share the house with Roger. If he stays you’ll soon be living with a raving lunatic. I mean it.’

‘Well, if you say so.’ Dorothy didn’t protest any more, but Melissa knew she was still uneasy.

The Reverend Mr Brindle was a large, florid man, whose supreme self-confidence was evident in the way he carried himself. Here was clearly a vicar who believed himself chosen to lead the poor sinners of his congregation, Melissa thought scathingly. He obviously considered himself to be in a position to judge them as well. Quite why she disliked the man so much from the very beginning she couldn’t say. She only knew she had to force herself to be civil when he looked down his long nose at her.

The Reverend Brindle had brought an assistant. Small and thin, and painfully new to his vocation, Mr Atwell didn’t say a word beyond a polite greeting. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down nervously. He was clearly in awe of Mr Brindle, his gaze full of admiration whenever he looked at the older man.

‘When performing the rite of exorcism it is vital that a second minister be present,’ Mr Brindle informed them after the necessary introductions had been made. ‘One has to be prepared to meet strong opposition, spiritual and psychic, and should one minister become incapacitated the other has to be ready to step in.’

Melissa almost laughed. She couldn’t imagine Mr Atwell stepping into the breach at a time of crisis. The poor man looked like he was wishing himself a hundred miles away. Anywhere but in this room. He was sweating profusely and kept rubbing his palms against his over-sized cassock.

She detained him by the door by placing a hand on his arm, and even that small gesture made him jump. ‘Are you all right, Mr Atwell?’ she whispered.

‘I, er
 
…’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ll be fine. It’s just that I never thought
 
… I mean we were taught about these things at college, of course, but I never imagined anyone actually
 
… that’s to say
 
…’

Melissa took pity on him. ‘You didn’t think anyone did this sort of thing in real life, is that it?’ He nodded, eyes wide with fright.

‘Yes, yes that’s precisely what I thought. And in my first week, too.’ He hesitated and swallowed hard. ‘I have to tell you,’ his face went a shade paler and he leaned close to whisper confidingly, ‘that I saw one once.’

‘A ghost?’

‘Yes, when I was a child. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It was an evil looking thing, floating about.’ He shuddered. ‘I would rather not repeat the experience.’

‘I’m sorry, but I really am desperate, Mr Atwell. The ghost in this house has been plaguing me for months. If you were that scared just from one sighting, imagine how I feel having to live with one all the time.’

‘Oh, of course. I hadn’t considered that.’ He made a visible effort to pull himself together. ‘Well, I’m sure Mr Brindle will make every effort to help you and I’ll try to assist as best I can.’

‘Thank you, I really appreciate it.’

Their whispered conversation at an end, Melissa walked over to the Reverend Brindle. ‘You have done this before then?’ she asked. Her own body was shaking. This wasn’t going to be any easier for her than for poor Mr Atwell.

‘Several times, and I met with little resistance.’

Probably because there were no spirits there to resist you, but you might find it slightly more difficult in this house.
Melissa kept her thought to herself and just nodded.

‘Please, have a seat.’ Dorothy indicated the sofa, and he sat down ponderously before rummaging in a large black bag. He brought out a Bible, a crucifix, some candles and a container of holy water. These items he placed with great care on a pristine white cloth, which he spread out on the coffee table in front of him. He proceeded to light the candles and they flickered, as if they too were uneasy. Mr Atwell perched nervously beside him, his eyes darting around the room.

Melissa’s hands were clammy. A tension headache had been building steadily behind her eyes for the last hour, and she wished the whole process over and done with.
Thank goodness Jolie isn’t here, at least.
Melissa hadn’t told her about the exorcism and hoped it would all be over before her daughter came back from visiting Amy. She glanced at Dorothy, who was sitting quietly on the other side of the room looking resigned. The old lady’s fingers were laced together in her lap as if in readiness for prayer. Melissa wondered if Dorothy had been right. Would they do more harm than good?

Exorcism.
The word echoed inside her, and knifed the back of her head. The ache began to pound at her brain with the strength of a sledge-hammer.
Can’t the stupid man hurry up?
She wanted to scream with frustration.

‘You’re sure this will work, Mr Brindle?’ She plaited her fingers together in her lap to keep from biting her nails.

‘My dear Ms Grantham, the Church exists to undo the devil’s work and it certainly appears that you have some form of demonic presence in this house. We shall bring the power of God to bear on those poor souls who need deliverance from evil, and perform a spiritual cleansing of this dwelling. I think you will find it most helpful.’

Melissa still had serious doubts, but she kept silent as he prepared himself with a prayer.

‘Nooo! Wait! Listen to me.’

The plea made Melissa jump and she received a look of irritation from Mr Brindle. She glanced at the other occupants of the room, but they didn’t seem to have heard anything.
Roger, please, we must do this
, she answered the voice silently inside her head and tried to concentrate on the priest’s words.
It’s for your own good.

The vicar stood up and began by blessing the house, sprinkling holy water into all four corners of the room. ‘Peace be to this house and all who dwell in it,’ he intoned. ‘Let us pray together. Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name
 
…’

The familiar words of the Lord’s Prayer flowed over Melissa and soothed her agitated mind temporarily as she recited them with the others. She relaxed slightly. However, when they reached the words ‘… but deliver us from evil
 
…’ there was a sudden noticeable drop in temperature, and her teeth started to chatter. If the others noticed, they gave no sign. She scanned the room, but couldn’t see Roger anywhere. Would he put in an appearance, or would the vicar’s words just make him disappear forever? Somehow the thought of that possibility made her want to cry out in anguish.

‘… for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory for ever and ever. Amen
.’
As Mr Brindle finished, the two candles were swiftly extinguished by a draught of air. The younger clergyman turned ashen and swallowed hard when the cold gust whooshed past his face.