To Dream of the Dead

mike — too loud.

‘You want an introduction?’ Barry said. ‘I don’t really know how these things are done.’

‘I’ll just go into it,’ Lol said.

‘Good boy.’

Lol felt the first shoulder-twinge in days as Barry stepped away, lifting a hand to Eirion, and the lights went down and, on the plasma screen behind him, the first thin red slit of sunrise began to burn between the earthen ramparts on Cole Hill.

Holding the new Boswell close like a woman, he let his fingers find the only riff he figured most of them would know, from Flicks in the Sticks showings of ‘The Baker’s Lament’, named after this song. Lol closed his eyes, took a breath. One more time, for propulsion, and…

‘The shoemaker… made me some shoes…’

The sound low and warm and woody. A rush of applause soaking up the rain.

Merrily pulled off her cape, pushed back her hair.

The oak-panelled reception, lantern-lit heart of the New Cotswolds. No mirrors.

‘Look reasonably OK?’

‘You look fantastic,’ Jane said. ‘Now just—’

‘Just go in, damn you.’ James Bull-Davies blocking the door to the square. ‘Pair of you. I’ll get Parry, we’ll deal with this.’

‘James, look…’ Merrily clutching his arm. ‘I’ll cancel it. It’ll be simpler.’

‘The hell you will. My family kept that church from collapse for four centuries. Damned if I’m going to let some lunatic—’

‘We don’t know.’

‘Suspect list pretty damn short.’

Barry came through, rubbing his hands.

‘Two coachloads. Supporters of the Serpent. Sounds like some sort of secret society. Don’t normally allow walking boots in the lounge, but under these conditions, what can you say?’

‘Don’t let these Watkins women out again, Barry,’ James said as the Stookes came in behind him, shaking out an umbrella. ‘Find them ringside seats and tie them down.’ He stood over Merrily. ‘Plan to board the bottom of the window, drape something over the damaged area of the rood screen for tonight. Cover the doors with opaque plastic sheeting rather than risk damaging the wood with paint-stripper. Couple of hours max, OK?’

‘James, I’m very grateful but I’m not sure, after that level of violence and… malevolence, call it what you like… that the atmosphere’s going to be exactly conducive. I think I’d rather put it off.’

James was arching forward, peering at her under half-lowered eyelids.

‘Correct me if I’m wrong, vicar, but one rather thought dealing with atmospheres was your thing.’

She started to laugh. And maybe he was right. There was time. Maybe.

‘James… have you met, erm, Leonora and Elliot—’

‘Stooke,’ Elliot Stooke said firmly, the mauve ring around his white smile. He unwound a black scarf. ‘We’re at Cole Barn.’

Well, well…

‘This is James Bull-Davies, Leonora. You… met his ancestor.’

‘How’re you?’ James said. ‘Talk later, if you don’t mind. Work to do.’

‘God.’ Leonora watched him striding out into the downpour. ‘Isn’t he so wonderfully feudal?’

‘Except we don’t pay tithes or whatever to the Bulls any more,’ Merrily said, ‘and he still feels responsible for us. I’m sorry, we’ve had a bit of trouble — nothing you wouldn’t understand, so maybe we could have a drink later. If you want to go in… sounds like he’s between numbers.’

Still be hard pushed to say she actually liked Leonora Stooke.

Lol was talking into the mike about how Lucy Devenish had introduced him to Thomas Traherne, at a time when his life was turning around and he’d just met a woman who was going to be more important to him than he ever imagined a woman could be.

Jane rolled her eyes, beaming, Merrily shutting hers, aware of a blush coming up. The Stookes went into the passage leading to the lounge and then two men emerged from it.

‘… Come in for a quiet drink, and we have to listen to this shit.’

Merrily figured County Councillor Lyndon Pierce was at least halfway drunk. He was with his client Gerry Murray, twenty years older, a fair bit heavier, the owner of Coleman’s Meadow, inherited. Pierce’s gelled black hair was slicked over his forehead. Merrily said nothing, didn’t bother smiling, hoped Jane hadn’t heard.

As if.

Jane said, ‘Why don’t you make one of your speeches instead, Mr Pierce, then they’d really know what shit sounded like?’

Bugger.

‘Jane,’ Merrily said, ‘I don’t think—’

‘It’s the famous archaeologist, Gerry,’ Pierce said. ‘I hear Professor Blore was suitably impressed.’

Merrily said, ‘Jane—’

The craving for tobacco making her shiver. Couldn’t keep a limb still. What would help right now was if Barry came back. She looked across to the doorway to the passage leading to the lounge bar.

Neither Barry nor anyone else emerged. Lol began a song she didn’t recognise. Jane restrained herself commendably until Murray was halfway through the main door, Pierce following him, and then she said loudly,

‘Mum, wasn’t that Lyndon Pierce, the notoriously corrupt councillor?’

Merrily watched Pierce turn, like in slow motion, walk right up to Jane.

‘What did you say?’

Jane backed up a little. Maybe his breath.

‘Nothing you haven’t heard before, surely.’

‘You heard it, didn’t you, Gerry?’ Pierce said. ‘That gives me an independent witness when I take this girl to court.’

‘You shouldn’t’ve said that about Lol.’ Jane was blinking uncertainly. ‘He was asked to play, and a lot of people have come through the floods to see him.’

‘Well, that was another good reason to get out of there.’

‘And I’m sure they’re all glad you did, you… uuuh.’

He’d gripped her arm, hard.

‘Cocky little bitch—’

‘Get your—’ Merrily pushed him. He spun round in surprise and stumbled to one knee, and she dragged Jane away. ‘You’re drunk, Lyndon. Bugger off!’

She was panting in fury, trembling. Her legs felt weak and the yellow light from the lanterns hurt her eyes. She saw Pierce coming slowly to his feet, dusting off his suit trousers, then pointing a finger at Jane.

‘You won’t be laughing—’

‘I’m not laughing now.’

‘You won’t be laughing when the real truth comes out about Coleman’s Meadow.’

He turned and walked out. He didn’t look back. Lol sang about honey flowing from rocks.

Jane said, ‘What’s he talking about? Look, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop myself after he said that about Lol’s music. What did he mean?’

‘He’s drunk.’

‘He meant something.’

‘Let’s go in. Let’s just—’

‘You go in.’ Jane had her mobile out. ‘I’m going to call Coops.’

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