Midnight Is A Lonely Place Part 8

*What are you doing here?' Alison's voice, harsh and angry, broke into her thoughts so sharply she jumped.

*Oh thank G.o.d!' The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. *I thought perhaps you had had an accident a '

*You thought I was buried in there?' The note of disdain quivered a little at the end. Alison stepped white-faced from behind the edge of the dune. There were dark circles under her eyes.

Kate smiled. *Only for a second. It was when I saw your radio.'

Alison's gaze switched to the ca.s.sette player. She did not move towards it. *I forgot it,' she said after a moment.

*So I see. I'm afraid it was buried in the sand. I think the tide probably got it.'

*Why did you come here?' Alison's voice was markedly less aggressive as she stood looking down at Kate. She still had made no move to jump down into the hole, or to pick up her radio.

*There was something I wanted to check.' Kate scrambled up beside her. *The different lines of strata being exposed. Do you see? The sand fall last night is revealing the line of a peat bog which is probably thousands of years old.'

Alison's eyes strayed to the dark streaks in the sand for a moment. Still she had not moved. *Did you see anything moving?' she asked. *When you came. Was there anything a anyone here?'

Kate looked at her sharply. *What sort of thing?'

Alison shrugged ma.s.sively. *I don't know. Yesterday, when I was here. There was something.' She looked away evasively. *I don't suppose it was anything. Maybe a bird-watcher or a naturalist or something ...' Her voice trailed away.

*But you didn't see them clearly,' Kate prompted.

*No.'

*Did you smell anything strange? Wet earth.'

Alison stared at her. *The whole place was wet.'

*True.' Kate smiled.

For a moment they both looked down at the excavation in silence. Then, *Are you going to do some more work on it today?' Kate asked at last.

Alison shrugged. *Might. But I've got work to do to catch up for school.' She was s.h.i.+fting restlessly from foot to foot. She had not wanted to come today but something had made her do it. She could not stop herself.

*That's tough. I wondered why you weren't at school,' Kate said. *Have you been ill?'

Alison nodded, but offered no further explanation. Kate did not pursue it. *I think it's going to rain. Better to leave any digging for another day.' For some reason she would feel much better if Alison were not here alone on the beach. The thought of the child digging away in isolation in this lonely grave appalled her. And it was a grave. Alison was right.

*You said you were going to take some photos. Would you like me to do it for you later, when the sun is right?' she asked at last.

Alison peered at her through wildly blowing wisps of hair. *Would you?'

*Of course. I should think by about midday the light would be better. I'll come out then. I'll bring the film with me this evening and whoever goes into town next could get it developed.'

*Great.'

Was it her imagination again or was there a marked lessening of enthusiasm? *Allie, did something frighten you yesterday?' Kate asked gently.

*No, of course not!' The flash of red in Alison's cheeks and the defiant glare belied her words.

*I just wondered.'

*Why, does it scare you?' Pitying. Disdainful.

*It does a bit. Yes.'

*Why?' Again the aggressive, derisive note. But beneath it, Kate sensed there was a plea. And she knew suddenly that she must not reinforce the girl's fears. She shrugged. *I don't know. Perhaps it was, as your brother said, that I've grown used to living in a town. One forgets the country noises. And I've never stayed so close to the sea before.'

To her relief Alison's face cleared. *You'll get used to it,' she replied. For the first time she smiled. *Will you really take the photos for me?'

*Of course I will. No problem.' Kate hesitated. *Do you want to come back to the cottage for some coffee before you go home?'

Alison's nod and the speed with which she gathered up her ruined ghetto blaster and turned away from her excavation spoke volumes. Following her, Kate turned and glanced over her shoulder only once towards the dig. A cloud of gulls hovered over the place where she and Alison had been standing. Then with a wild screaming and shrieking, they wheeled as one and flew straight out towards the sea.

*Why did you lock it? We never bother.'

Out of sight of the dunes Alison was once more her supercilious self.

*Habit, I suppose,' Kate replied easily. *After all, someone did break in.' She pushed open the door. *Black or white?' She walked ahead into the kitchen.

*White please.' Alison had not followed her, nor had she given any acknowledgment of Kate's comment. She had walked through into the living room. *You've let the woodburner go out,' she called.

Kate closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. *I know, but it's laid all ready to light. Do you want to do it for me?'

She reached for the coffee jar and stopped. There was a trail of black peaty soil on the worktop.

*Oh Christ.' She didn't realise she had spoken out loud.

*What is it?' Alison appeared behind her in the doorway.

Kate took a deep breath. *Nothing. I spilt something, that's all.'

*Where are the matches?' Alison bent and rummaged in the cupboard under the sink. She had taken off her jacket and brushed back her hair with her fingers.

*There, on the dresser.' Kate was still staring at the trail of wet earth amongst the mugs. *Allie, don't bother to light it now, OK? When we've had our coffee, I'll walk back with you. I need to drive into Colchester this morning.' Again the thought had come unprompted. Perhaps this time it was because suddenly she didn't want to be alone in the house.

*What about the photos? You promised.'

d.a.m.n the photos!

*That's OK, I'll do them later, don't worry. In fact the later I leave it, the better the light will be. We'll get more definition. I'll still have the film for you by this evening.'

She lifted two mugs out of the earth and rinsed them under the tap before reaching for the coffee jar.

*What's all this mess on the side here?' Alison had seen it. Staring down at it critically she ran a finger through it, leaving a clean trail on the varnished wood of the worktop.

Kate shook her head. *I'm not sure. It must have come in when I brought the logs in earlier.'

The answer seemed to satisfy Alison. Turning away she returned to the living room.

*Do you like using a computer?' Her voice came through the door as Kate waited for the kettle to boil.

*Yes, quite. It makes correlating notes and chronologies and things much simpler.' Kate carried the mugs of coffee through. Alison was standing at her table looking down at her books and notes.

*My brother Patrick is a computer wizard,' the girl said. *Most of the time, he's a nerd, but he is tops on computers.'

*Will he be there tonight?'

*Yeah.'

*And will Greg?'

Alison shrugged. *No one ever knows what Greg is going to do.'

*I see,' Kate said dryly. *Well, I'm looking forward to coming to dinner with your parents. They seem so nice.'

*They are, I suppose.' Alison finished her coffee and put the mug down. *I'm going. Do you want to come with me?'

The challenge in her eyes was hostile again and suddenly Kate was tired of the child. *I'll be ready in about half an hour,' she said. *If you want to wait for me, that'll be nice, if not, I'll follow you over later.'

For a moment Alison hesitated, obviously reluctant to walk back alone, then with an exaggerated sigh she flung herself down in one of the chairs. *OK. I'll wait.'

*Thanks.' Kate smiled. She gathered up the mugs and left the girl sitting there.

The door to the spare room was open and the boxes and cases in there had been strewn all over the floor. Kate stared at the scene for a moment in dismay, then she turned and called down the stairs. *Alison, did you do this?'

*What?' The girl's voice was puzzled.

*Do all this? For G.o.d's sake!' Her case, the case with the torc was still locked, she could see that from the doorway.

Alison ran up behind her and looked round. *What a mess.'

*All these boxes and things. I left them tidy.'

*Oh.' Alison avoided her eye. *Well, it wasn't me. How could it have been? I haven't been upstairs at all.'

Kate found her heart was hammering rather too loudly in her chest. There had to be an explanation. This child or her brother must have done it. Perhaps while she was on the beach Greg or the unknown computer wizard had sneaked in and messed up the place. Turning, she flung open her bedroom door. Nothing in there appeared to have been touched. Everything was as she had left it.

Seeing her white face Alison frowned. She too suspected that it must have been Greg. Last time she had seen him, he had still been planning to try to scare Kate out of the cottage. He was keen on her idea of making Kate think it was haunted. Could he have done all this? Had he already taken things this far? Staring round she felt herself s.h.i.+ver. If it was him, then it was working. She narrowed her eyes for a moment. Was it Greg down on the beach as well? Was he behind what had happened yesterday?

Suddenly she was furious. She turned and running down the stairs she opened the front door. *Come on. I need to get home,' she called. *There's nothing wrong. Let's go.'

If it was Greg she would get even, if it was the last thing she ever did. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d! The unmitigated, double dealing, swindling b.a.s.t.a.r.d! He had really scared her. And he owed her a new radio ca.s.sette player.

XIX.

*You shouldn't have come.' Nion took her hands. *You take too many risks. What if you were seen?'

She broke free and ran a few steps in front of him to the edge of the water, skipping like a child. *Who is there to see? He's out all day. The slaves are too busy to care. The child and his nurse think I am visiting my sister.' She pirouetted, laughing. *I've never been so happy. I can't believe this is happening. Me, a staid Roman matron, and you a' she stood in front of him, staring into his face and rested her hands for a moment on the folds of his cloak, *a you, a prince of the Trinovantes.'

Nion laughed, throwing back his head, his strong teeth white in his tanned face, the laugh lines at eyes and mouth carving deep into the square features.

Around them the dunes stretched for miles; sand, spun and blown by the wind into hollows and ridges, the s.h.i.+ngle thick and clean as the tide drew back. Nearby, her mule waited patiently beside the horse, which stood between the shafts of his chariot, grazing listlessly on the salt sand flowers and gra.s.ses. They were alone. Quite alone. He caught her against him, burying his face in her hair.

*I want you to come away with me. One of my brothers is in the west. We could go to him there. Your husband would never find you.'

She tensed, raising her face slowly to his and he read the conflicting emotions in her eyes. Desire. Hope. Excitement. All three blazed in their sea-grey depths, but there was doubt there too. Doubt and fear. *I can't leave the boy.'

*Then we'll take him with us.'

*No.' She shook her head sadly. *No. He would never allow his son to go. Me a' she hesitated. *I don't know if he would come after me, but he would search the whole earth for his son.' Her eyes brimmed with tears. *And I could not ask you to leave this a your home.' His land, his woods, his pastures, his fields, his water, the salt pans which made him rich, all worked by the men of his people.

She s.h.i.+vered as she looked up again and raised her lips towards his. His G.o.ds were powerful, cruel, demanding. Sometimes she wondered if they had given their blessing to their servant's union with a daughter of Rome, or if they were jealous, biding their time, waiting to punish her for her presumption.

Behind them the sun glittered on the sea, turning it the colour of jade. As his hands moved down to release her girdle she forgot her fear; she forgot everything, drowning in the pleasure of his touch.

*We'll have to give you a season ticket at this rate!' The man in the ticket office at the museum greeted Kate with a cheery smile.

She smiled back. *I think you might. Or a job!' She was still wondering why she was here. Was it the thought of the next book, bubbling uncontrollably in her subconscious, or was it just the fascination of that strange, half-excavated pit on the beach beside her cottage? She refused to admit that she felt a slight reluctance to stay in the cottage alone. She could not allow that. But perhaps it was a little of all three. She was feeling guilty. She shouldn't be here. She should be working with George Byron and his irritating, hysterical mother.

Retracing her steps upstairs she went to stand once more in front of the statue of Marcus Severus, gazing into his face as if somewhere there in the cold, dead eyes she would find the answer to her riddle. For he had something to do with that grave on the sh.o.r.e, she was sure of it. Marcus Severus Secundus and Augusta, his wife. Thoughtfully, she turned to the display case where his bones lay exposed to view. There was no answer there. Nothing but the gentle hum of the lights and in the distance, the m.u.f.fled and unreal shouts and screams of the video replay of Boudicca's ma.s.sacre.

As she parked the car in the barn later she glanced at Redall Farmhouse with a certain amount of longing. They were there this time; she could see smoke coming from the chimney and there were lights on in the kitchen. They were expecting her to supper; supposing she knocked and went in now? Perhaps she could help prepare it, or sit out of the way by the fire sipping tea or better still whisky, until the appropriate time. But she couldn't, of course she couldn't. She glanced at her watch. It was barely three o'clock. She had another five hours to wait before she could knock on their door.

Shouldering her bag she turned up the track into the woods. The early suns.h.i.+ne had gone. The sky was growing increasingly wintry and as the wind rose a quick light shower of sleet raced through the trees. She s.h.i.+vered. At least the fire was ready to light at home.

Home. She hadn't thought of the cottage as home before, but for now that's what it was. She could draw the curtains against the coming darkness, have tea and a hot bath and do a couple of hours work before setting out on the walk back through the dark.

Opening the door she dumped her bag on the floor and glanced round, unconsciously bracing herself against signs that anyone had been inside. There were none. The cottage was as she had left it. The kitchen was spotless, the doors and windows closed and the air smelt faintly of burned apple wood. Relieved, she unpacked her shopping and went to light the woodburner, then slowly she went upstairs.

Pulling open her cupboard she looked through the clothes she had brought with her. Since she had arrived in north Ess.e.x she had worn trousers and thick sweaters, but she wanted to change into something a little more formal tonight. More formal, but still practical, bearing in mind that she had a long walk through the muddy woods. She pulled out a woollen skirt and a full sleeved blouse and threw them on the bed.

It was then that she remembered her promise to Alison to photograph the grave. She glanced at the window. It would soon be getting dark and the sky was already heavy with cloud. Perhaps she could leave it until tomorrow. But she wanted to keep her promise. She needed to win the girl's trust, for the sake of what was left of the site. She hesitated for a moment longer, then reluctantly she went to find her camera. She loaded a new roll of film and with a wistful glance at the fire she grabbed her anorak and set out into the cold.

The beach was very bleak. Turning up her collar, she put her head down into the wind and walked as swiftly as she could back towards Alison's dig, firmly resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder at the coming darkness. The wind had blown the sand into soft ridges, rounding the sharp corners, drying the surface of the soil so the different strata were harder to see. Squinting against her hair which whipped free of its clip into her eyes she raised the camera and peered through the viewfinder. She doubted if anything would come out even with the flash, but at least she would have tried. She took the entire roll, shooting the dig from every angle, and trying, rather vainly, to get a few close-ups of the sand face itself. She did not see the dark, withered stumps which had been a man's fingers; nor the black protrusion which was his femur, broken and splintered and already crumbling back into the sand.

Safely back inside the cottage she locked the door with a sigh of relief and, taking the film out of the camera, put it into its plastic case and tucked it into her shoulder bag. She was damp and thoroughly chilled. Slotting a tape of Vaughan Williams' Fifth Symphony into her ca.s.sette player and turning it up loudly, she climbed the stairs and went back into her bedroom, pulling off her scarf and shaking out her wet hair as she began slowly to undress. Putting on her dressing gown she paused, listening, as the music downstairs grew quiet. She could hear a strange buzzing from the spare room. She frowned. For a moment she hesitated, biting her lip. What was it about this d.a.m.n house which made her so jumpy? It was a fly, that was all, awoken by the morning suns.h.i.+ne. Taking a deep breath she flung open the door and switched on the light. The room was deserted. A quick glance showed that her cases and boxes were undisturbed; Greg's pictures stood where she had left them, face to the wall behind the door, and she was right, a couple of bluebottles were crawling across the window. As the light flicked on they buzzed angrily against the gla.s.s. Shaking her head she backed out and closed the door. Tomorrow she would deal with them.

The bathroom was very cold. With a s.h.i.+ver she pulled the cord to switch on the wall heater and, putting the plug in the bath, she turned on the hot tap. As the windows steamed over she closed the curtains then she tipped some foaming bath oil into the steaming jet of water and stood back, twisting her hair into a knot on the top of her head as she watched the bath fill with fragrant froth. Lying back in the warmth was ecstasy. With a groan of pleasure she submerged all but her head and closed her eyes.