Barbara Erskine - Sands of Time

‘So, are you there?’ She whispered the words out loud. ‘Are you so little the gentleman that you would follow a lady in here?’

There was no answer.

Had he left her then? Was he still in the car? Or was he outside the door waiting? She swallowed hard. Then she reached cautiously into her pocket for the mobile. ‘Please. Answer. Serena?’

Serena’s phone was switched off. The phone service picked up the call. Sobbing with frustration Anna left her number in a whisper. ‘I am heading towards Aldeburgh. I’m going to throw it in the sea! Serena, tell them Carstairs is with me. He isn’t in Toby any more. Help me. Please!’

When Serena had arrived in Lavenham at last it was after midnight and Toby was once more asleep. Phyllis led her into her kitchen where it was warm. ‘Don’t be too horrified when you see him. I hit him over the head with the poker and he’s got a terrible lump.’ She chuckled. ‘It did the trick though. Carstairs vanished!’

Serena smiled. ‘I didn’t think of that. You’re obviously a woman of action!’ She surveyed her elderly hostess admiringly as she explained who she was. Phyllis was obviously not only a very brave woman, she was also far more alert than her visitor, who after the long drive was exhausted. ‘So, what do we do? Should we wake Toby?’

They decided, on the principle of letting sleeping dogs lie, that they wouldn’t wake him yet. He too had been exhausted and he had a headache and they would achieve nothing by dragging him downstairs. After all, Anna and the bottle weren’t there and he could be no danger – or help – to her. Not now. Not tonight. Not until they knew where she was.

They didn’t have to wait long. Serena, asleep on the sofa in the sitting room by the fire, heard Toby as he stumbled downstairs. Climbing to her feet she went to meet him in the hall. ‘I heard about your run in with the poker.’ She eyed his bruise.

He nodded ruefully, his hand to his head. ‘I came down to get a drink of water. I’ve got a filthy headache.’ He followed her into the kitchen. ‘But you will be glad to hear it did the trick. Carstairs is gone.’

‘Are you sure?’ Phyllis appeared behind them. She had heard him come downstairs.

She waved her guests into chairs at the kitchen table, gave Toby a glass of water then set about making them all a pot of coffee. The cat, Jolly, was sitting in front of the Aga licking its paws.

‘I’m sure. I don’t know how, but I can sense it.’ Toby’s face was grey with fatigue and the huge bruise on his forehead was swollen. Outside it was still dark.

Serena ran her fingers through her hair. ‘You don’t think he followed Anna? After all, she has the bottle.’

‘Dear God!’ Toby stared at her in horror. ‘That never occurred to me. I thought it was me he was using. Because we were related.’ ‘It was you,’ Serena said thoughtfully. ‘But if the bottle has gone maybe he is not interested in you anymore. You can’t help him while you are here; you can’t help him unless you are with her.’

‘I wish I knew where she is. Do you think she’s gone home?’ Toby stood up and went over to the window. Lifting the curtain he peered out. There was still no sign of it getting light.

‘Not if she’s running away.’ Phyllis was sitting staring at the coffee pot. ‘She’ll have gone somewhere none of us will find her. As far as she is concerned Toby is the enemy.’ She glanced at him. ‘I’m sorry, my dear. But it’s true.’

‘And always will be?’ Toby groaned in despair.

Phyllis glanced at Serena helplessly. ‘I do so hope not.’

Serena shrugged. ‘I’m out of my depth. I’ve only studied ancient Egypt. I’ve never had to cope with a Victorian occultist. I don’t know where to start.’

‘Mary had a little lamb,’ Toby said softly. ‘That worked.’

For a moment they were all silent.

Outside, in Serena’s car, her phone had finished charging. It lay forgotten, nursing its secrets in silence.

Anna tore open the back door of the car and looked in. ‘Where are you?’ Her anger had temporarily conquered her fear.

There was no reply.

Biting her lip she slammed the door and went round to the driver’s side. Pulling that door open in turn she stared down at the bubble-wrapped package lying on the passenger seat. She didn’t notice the infinitesimal patch of damp beneath it on the dark leather.

What would happen if she dumped it here? She could throw it into the bins she could see at the side of the garage building. Drive off and leave it. Or she could take it to a bottle bank. Toss it in amongst a thousand wine bottles to be ground to dust and recycled into some innocuous item which would find its way onto a supermarket shelf somewhere.

Don’t be foolish. Do you realise what would happen if it was broken?

Somehow he had picked up on that thought.

The power that would be released would devastate the world! We want that power, you and I. Oh, Miss Shelley, we could do so much with that power!

‘What? What do you want to do with all this power?’ Smothering a sob of frustration, Anna fired the question into the dark. ‘What is it with you men? Why do you all want to dominate the world?’

A mere woman would not understand such matters, Miss Shelley . The tone was mocking.

‘And another thing, I wish you’d stop calling me Miss Shelley. That is not my name!’ Anna snapped back at him. ‘My name, if you wish to be so formal, is Anna Fox.’

A car had driven up and parked opposite her on the far side of the pump. She saw the driver stare at her, startled, as he reached for the nozzle.

Very well, I will call you Anna. And please, do not try running away from me. I can move at the speed of thought. Get in, my dear. We have to go north! I have everything we need at Carstairs Castle. My laboratory is waiting .

‘I doubt it!’ Anna retorted. She climbed in reluctantly, tossing her mobile onto the other seat to lie beside the bottle, and reached for the seat belt. With the car light off her neighbour couldn’t see who she was talking to and talking to her passenger seemed to be the right thing to do. ‘If I remember rightly Carstairs Castle is a ruin. I think the whole place has been razed to the ground.’ She put the key in the ignition and turned it, waiting for his reaction to that piece of news. None came. She smiled to herself quietly. ‘As it happens I do know the place to go. I’ve thought of the perfect place of power.’ She glanced over her shoulder towards the empty seat. Would he suspect her plan? See through her? ‘Trust me, my lord. Let me show you.’

She waited.

Silence.

She could feel the small hairs on the back of her neck stirring.

‘OK. Let’s go.’ It couldn’t be that easy. Surely he was not going to believe he had won her over? Was he really that conceited? Carefully she engaged gear and pulled back out onto the A12 once more. Somehow she had to veil her thoughts. She couldn’t let him know that she had reached a decision. That she was going to fling the bottle into the sea, to let it sink or float or grind to pieces amongst the shingle. Mary had a little lamb. She held her breath, listening. Oh God, it was worse when he was quiet. She didn’t know if he was still there. She could imagine him sitting on the seat – was he relaxed, legs crossed, watching the passing scenery or was he leaning forward, his hand on the back of the seat just behind her neck? She jerked forward slightly, feeling the tiptoe of fear again. Mary had a little lamb. Concentrate on anything but where she was going. What she was going to do.