To Dream of the Dead

Leonora called out, ‘Darling, have you heard of a man called Ellis?’

‘Father Nicholas Ellis,’ Merrily said, as Stooke came in with a loaded tray. ‘That’s not his real name, but it doesn’t matter.’

‘I’ve a computer file on him.’ Stooke laid the tray on the desk. ‘Had some correspondence with a reporter out there. I think he was linked to a corrupt itinerant evangelist called… McAllman?’

‘Yes.’ Merrily nodding. ‘Ellis’s was an unpleasant kind of ministry involving sexual exploitation of women. He’ll be blaming me, among others, for its demise in this country.’

‘This West woman is one of his disciples?’

‘It’s unlikely she ever encountered him in person. I just wondered if you’d had any contact. Couldn’t find any mention of him in The Hole in the Sky.’

‘It would be in the next book.’

‘Does he know?’

‘Possibly, I don’t know.’ Stooke looked at his wife. ‘Probably does now.’

‘Yeah, yeah, very stupid of me,’ Leonora said. ‘I didn’t think. Pretty damned angry that morning. The electricity meter was read after the last of the workmen moved out and before we moved in. Four or five weeks later we had a bill for over ?900? Which, even allowing for the way fuel prices are going…’

‘Crazy,’ Merrily said. ‘You do like it warm in here, though, don’t you?’

‘This is oil. And wood? OK, a lot of lights, but we don’t use much electricity otherwise. Eat out most days. It’s not that we can’t afford to pay the bloody bill, it’s just that it’s so obviously wrong.’

‘Thanks.’ Merrily accepting a coffee from Stooke. ‘And that’s why you were asking the guy on the archaeological site where they got their power from?’

‘Just a thought that they might in some way be leeching electricity from here.’ Stooke brushed a hand through his grey-black spiky hair. ‘Bit of a long shot.’

‘We had it tested,’ Leonora said, ‘according to the complaints procedure. They said they could find absolutely nothing wrong. As they usually do. Anyway… that’s why I wasn’t in the best of moods when I stormed into the post office to pay the final demand instead of just posting it.’

Stooke sat down on the sofa, close to the stove. He didn’t seem to be aware of the heat.

‘The agents were no help at all. And the firm that owns the place is in France. Places like this, Middle England, they think they can charge what they like for half a job. I’d quite like to move out and try and get some of our money back, but—’

‘Darling, I couldn’t face it again. Not for a while. The sheer stress of moving, feeling like refugees. We’ve just…’ Leonora turned to Merrily ‘… had a run of trivial teething troubles, that’s all. It’s a barn conversion, nobody’s lived here before. Power surges. Bulbs popping. Wake up in the night and one of the smoke alarms is going off, which sets off all the other smoke alarms.’

‘They saw us coming,’ Stooke said.

‘So they know who you are?’ Merrily asked. ‘The agents.’

An irrational tension had set in. Power surges. Bulbs popping. Smoke alarms. How often had people brought domestic problems like that to her door?

‘The security services had a word with the agents,’ Stooke said. ‘Presumably pointing out that if anything leaked out from them, we’d have to move, putting the house back on the market.’

‘And they had enough difficulty letting it last time.’

‘Did they?’ Stooke looking up sharply. ‘Why?’

‘Because… the future of Coleman’s Meadow is undecided. You either get a whole army of new neighbours or a prehistoric tourist attraction. You were a godsend. As it were. What’s the atheist term for a godsend?’

‘Are you going to make atheist jokes all night, Merrily?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, no.’ Stooke stood up awkwardly. ‘It’s me.’ He grimaced. ‘Fractious. Sorry.’

He folded his arms. Amazingly, in this temperature, he was still wearing the black fleece. Merrily smiled uncertainly. She felt swimmingly disorientated — that uncomfortable sensation of floating one step behind your senses. Too much heat, too much light. She stood up.

‘I’m going to have to go.’

‘I didn’t mean to offend—’

‘No, you didn’t. I have to drive to the other side of the county and I don’t want to be back too late in these conditions. Just one final thing. Shirley’s friend…’

Stooke looked blank. Merrily almost snatched the opportunity to say it was OK, it didn’t matter. Get herself out of the heat. She didn’t need this kind of complication.

‘Oh,’ Stooke said. ‘You mean the man who was watching the house.’

‘Erm… yeah.’

‘That made me angry. I don’t think Lenni’s seen him, but I spotted him a couple of times. He’d just be standing there at the top of the field, on the edge of the wood.’

‘The orchard?’

‘Yeah, whatever, the trees. I thought he was one of the archaeologists at first, and I shouted to him from the door, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there. Well, it’s a public right of way, so you can’t actually order people off. I just went back into the house.’

‘What time of day was this?’

‘Early evening. Just on dusk. Five-ish? Next time I looked he’d gone. Then I saw him again, a couple of days ago.’

‘Same time?’

‘More or less. It was raining. Lenni’d gone into Leominster, to the shops.’

‘Antique shops.’ Leonora had pulled off the towels, was shaking out her red tresses. ‘So many in Leominster.’

‘And there was the guy again, getting soaked?’

Stooke went over to the desk, opened a drawer, took out some papers and extracted one.

Merrily said, ‘What was he like? Anybody I might recognise?’

‘He wasn’t close enough. I thought…’ Stooke handed her a folded sheet of A4. ‘We’d had that the same morning, and I suppose I saw him in those terms… as, presumably, I was expected to.’

We know why you are here.

We know why you have come NOW.

To call forth the old dark ones from

the woods and reclaim the stones for

your infernal master.

But know that we too are vigilant!

Stooke wrinkled his nose in distaste.

‘First time one of these… missives had mentioned the stones. I should’ve made the connection after your parish meeting. I suppose when the guy appeared again, I saw him as… like it says there.’

‘One of the dark ones from the woods?’

‘Some kind of Stone Age warrior. Short cloak or a skin, and a stick. Couldn’t see him clearly, too much mist. I was angry, but I did nothing. Should’ve gone out, but the field was soaking wet and… you don’t know what drugs these guys are on, do you?’

‘Who? The Church of the Lord of the Light? You really think so?’

‘Well, maybe not drugs.’ Stooke took the paper back, crumpled it angrily. ‘But how can they think we’re so stupid?’

‘You’re destroying the evidence.’

‘It’s a copy.’

Stooke looked into Merrily’s eyes, and she really didn’t know what to make of his expression.

‘I’d better be off,’ she said.