Barbara Erskine - Sands of Time

There was a short pause. ‘He said you told him how to drown Carstairs out,’ Frances said hopefully.

‘But will he do it?’ Serena shivered. She was thinking that it was Carstairs, not Toby, who had pushed her out of his way.

Frances was silent for a moment. When she spoke again her voice was full of doubt. ‘I’m sure he will do his best, Serena. He loves Anna. He really does. He would never knowingly do anything to put her in danger. He would do anything to protect her.’

‘If he can.’ Serena sighed. ‘If you hear from them, will you tell me? I’ll give you my mobile number. Please, call me anytime. I mean it.’

There was nothing more she could do. Turning out the lights she climbed up to her bedroom and laid the mobile on her bedside table. Downstairs the smell of incense from her ceremony began to dissipate. Soon it would be gone.

Frances walked slowly through her house deep in thought. If she could find out Phyllis’s address she could ask Serena to go there. Serena had sounded sensible and caring; she was knowledgeable and she had somehow managed to cut through Toby’s torment, teaching him her nursery rhyme mantra.

Out of the blue the name came back to her.

Lavenham.

That was it. And surely it wasn’t a big place? She reached for the phone.

Phyllis Shelley’s number was listed.

Serena wasn’t asleep. She answered the phone on the second ring; she was in the car and on the road within half an hour.

Leaving London just as the rush hour was starting, it had taken Toby three hours to drive to Lavenham. Pulling up his car in the darkness of Phyllis’s deserted street in the picture-book small town he sat for a moment, his head resting on his hands on the rim of the steering wheel. Faint light showed through the tightly closed curtains of Phyllis’s oak-beamed cottage. Now he was there he was wondering why he had come. Supposing Anna wasn’t there? What would he say to the old lady? And if she was there, what was he going to do then? What was Lord Carstairs going to do? He shuddered. Suddenly he felt very sick.

A twitching curtain indicated Phyllis Shelley had heard the car draw up outside. With a deep sigh he reached down to release his seat belt and climbed out.

She showed him into her sitting room where an apple log fire smouldered reassuringly in the hearth, supervised by a large sleepy cat. It was apparent at once that Anna was not there. A quick phone call established she was not at home either – or if she was, she was not answering her phone.

Phyllis, smartly dressed in a blue cardigan and matching skirt, her grey wiry hair neatly cropped, looked far less than her eighty-eight years. After one glance at Toby’s pale face and drawn expression, she wouldn’t let him explain the reason for his visit until he had consumed a glass of whisky, some tomato soup and a cheese sandwich in the chair beside the fire. Only then was he allowed to speak, but by then he was fairly certain her calm scrutiny had winkled out most of his innermost secrets without him having had to utter a word. She asked him nevertheless. ‘So, what has gone wrong, Toby?’ She had a quiet voice with a thread of steel in it. ‘You love each other. Can you not work things out between you?’

He gazed down at the glowing ashes. ‘Not in this case.’ He bit his lip ruefully. ‘It appears Lord Carstairs has come between us.’

She raised a haughty eyebrow. ‘And how, pray, has he managed to do that?’

He gave a wry smile. ‘Just how unfair do you think it is possible for fate to be? It appears that I am his great-great grandson!’

He looked up in time to see a twitch of humour for a fleeting second in her eyes. ‘That doesn’t sound like fate, Toby. That is The Fates. Did you never believe in them?’

He shook his head morosely. ‘You don’t even seem surprised!’

She smiled – openly this time. ‘I won’t spout the cliché about how when you reach my age you cease to be surprised about anything. It does however happen to be true. There is obviously some deeper destiny working its way out here.’ She paused thoughtfully. ‘What does surprise me is that Anna should have let it come between you.’

‘I told you why. It’s not destiny, Phyllis. It’s Carstairs.’ He told her what had happened.

It was several minutes before she said any more. Seeing her so deep in thought he was content to sit back in his chair staring at the flames, somehow purged of his fear by having told her. His moment of peace was short-lived.

‘How strong are you, Toby?’

He shrugged. ‘It depends.’

‘Let’s imagine the worst. Suppose Lord Carstairs is an unquiet spirit of some sort. Maybe he is a common or garden ghost.’ She gave a small snort of derision. ‘Or maybe he sold his soul to the devil or maybe he is one of the undead.’ She paused thoughtfully with a sideways glance at her guest. ‘Supposing he is still determined to own the ampulla. Supposing he believes he can use it for some sinister purpose. Supposing the fact that you are his great-great grandson has somehow allowed him to make a connection with you so that he thinks he can use you in some way.’

‘Use me as a medium?’ It was what his mother had implied. Toby shuddered. Discussing the subject so dispassionately somehow made the nightmare worse.

Phyllis nodded uncertainly. ‘Something of the sort.’ She hesitated, then went on, feeling her way with care as she spoke. ‘It seems to me that in this case he would be dependent on you as the host acting for him. He would need your mouth to speak; he would need your hands to gather in his precious ampulla and he would need you to use it for whatever purpose he has in mind.’

‘So, if I refuse to comply he would be helpless.’ Toby nodded, slightly comforted.

‘Exactly.’

‘But -?’ He was watching her face.

‘There are no buts, Toby, if you are strong.’ She gave a gentle smile. ‘And this has only happened once, has it not? You don’t know that you will ever hear of or from him again; you don’t know that what happened was any more than a momentary hallucination. But I don’t think we should underestimate him.’ She paused, then went on thoughtfully. ‘And I don’t think that now is perhaps the right moment for you and Anna to test your resolve.’

‘That’s what my mother said.’

‘Well, she’s right. Are you sure Anna is on her way here?’

He shook his head. ‘I thought this the most likely place she would come.’ He stood up. ‘I couldn’t think of anywhere else. But I know so little about her, Phyllis. I don’t know who her friends are; her relations. I am in so many ways still a stranger, and -’ He hesitated. ‘I am not sure how long I can stand the suspense of all this. It’s like having a time bomb inside me!’

‘He’s not inside you, Toby! Don’t imagine that.’ She looked very stern. ‘It is your body. Your brain. He cannot use them unless you let him.’

‘What if I can’t help it?’ He was staring down at the fire.

‘That sounds very defeatist. You can’t afford to be weak. Not for an instant.’

‘It would be easier if I knew when he was going to strike.’

‘If he is going to strike.’ She sighed. ‘If anything else happens, Toby, it is because he still wants the bottle. My guess is he would wait until it is nearby. He would wait for Anna. And you’re right. I think she might come here.’

‘Then I must go.’ Turning to face her, he sighed. ‘I can’t risk being here when she arrives.’

‘You’ll have to face her one day. I have a feeling Carstairs could wait longer than you would be able to.’

‘You’re not suggesting I stay? Face him out?’

‘I’m not sure what I’m suggesting, my dear.’ She looked round helplessly. ‘I’m not an expert in all this. I don’t know what we should do. Perhaps we should ask your friend, Serena. She seems to have been the only one with any idea of how to deal with this situation.’ She raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘It is fairly specialised.’